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sarahghetti · 10 months

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going to the carnival hcs; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader, the gang's all here

summary: the carnival's in town! some headcanons for how you spend your time there with the boys.

warnings: mildly suggestive near the end, but essentially just pure fluff all the way through. reader is called princesa once, no descriptions otherwise.

word count: 2.0k

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

the carnival rolls into town—of course you’re all going!

and it’s kind of perfect because they all have their favourite parts.

food

marc is your food guy—he won’t be the one to suggest the funky fair foods like frog legs or peanut putter pickle corn dogs, but he will go halfsies with you on anything you want to get so you can try a lot of different things.

you’re giving this look to the deep fried oreos stand that has marc pursing his lips, obviously hesitant even though he offers no resistance when you direct the two of you towards it.

“if you want cookies, I saw a place near the entrance,” he suggests in a placating sort of way, as though he could dissuade you from trying any of the monstrosities at your disposal.

“but…” you gesture at the sign, look at it! and he’s never been more aware of how much you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger because he’s buying an order for you without a second thought.

“it’s… very sweet,” he remarks after his first bite. “not sure if it’s much of an improvement on the original thing.”

“then why do you keep eating it?” you make grabby hands towards the tray in his hand to try one, and he dangles it out of your reach. “wha—hey!”

“just hang on a sec.” he polishes off his cookie, tongue darting out to catch some errant sugar on his lips before pulling you deep into a kiss.

he’s grinning wide at his own cheesiness before he even draws back completely, your face is burning and, yeah—it’s pretty sweet.

meanwhile steven kind of taps out for this. veganism doesn’t exactly pair well with the hodgepodge of carnival foods being offered, but he will take a good sorbet when it gets particularly hot out.

if he fronts after marc or jake eat something non-vegan, steven will find the nearest lemonade stand to wash the taste out of his mouth. he gets a different one every time, and almost drinks the entire bubblegum flavoured lemonade even though he dislikes it.

jake secretly thinks it’s good. marc fronts again near the end of the cup and immediately tosses it in the trash.

jake has simpler tastes but will try to deviate a little in spirit of the carnival. as long as it’s generally something he likes, like fried chicken or a burger, he won’t mind if it comes in a cone or has a shit-ton of cheese piled on top. is the one to pay eight dollars for a cob of corn.

games

marc and steven will only play the fair game scams if you want to, but jake has no qualms about them at all. you mention that there’s a prize plushie you think is cute and he’s already pulling you towards the booth, eyes glinting in a way that you know he’s up to trouble.

jake then proceeds to crush every single game you come across.

skeeball? he’s getting 100 points with every ball he throws. hoops? draft this man into the nba, he’s sinking baskets like your life depends on it.

jake’s bracing a pellet gun against his shoulder, lining up the scope with the targets at the end of the booth when it finally clicks.

he might not be wearing the suit, but that doesn’t mean that khonshu isn’t with him. you lean in over his shoulder. “wait, are you—?”

bam, bam, bam. three shots, three bullseyes. the people around you are whooping and hollering, but jake just turns to you with a smug look on his face.

“didn’t even need him for this one, princesa, but—” his eyes dart to the top of the booth and you can imagine the god sitting up there, watching you. “what is true justice if not scamming a scammer, hm?”

the attendant comes around to give jake his prize, which he presents to you with flourish and a wink.

“now, is there anything else you want? the fist of vengeance—” he drops his voice down to what you know as an imitation of khonshu “—still has a few games left in him.”

marc fronts again to find his wallet much lighter and his arms full of plushies that jake won for you and just sighs.

steven must’ve read a book about the design behind carnival games at some point because boy is he knowledgeable about it.

it’s a bit of diversion from his usual egyptology, but he seems to know all the tricks of the major games like the back of his hand and leans in close to your ear to tell you exactly what’s happening as you watch other people play.

“you see that?” he points towards the ring toss booth, where a handful of people are fruitlessly bouncing rings off the rims of bottles.

you already know what’s coming but still, you ask: “do you wanna play?”

“oh, no, love, now the rings—” he brings the tips of his forefinger and thumb together in demonstration “—they’re barely big enough to fit over the bottles, you’d have to hit it dead on to have a chance. even then, the material isn’t any help, the rings’ll bounce right off like—that!”

he snaps his fingers, and you giggle a little at his theatrics. the sound always makes him blush a little, and he turns back to the game to distract himself before he gets too flustered.

someone puts down twenty dollars for a bucket of rings and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “poor buggers.”

maybe he says it a little too loudly, catching the attention of some of the players and his face flushes red as he stammers an apology. you shove him playfully, face similarly burning. “steven!”

“sorry!”

the only exception for marc is the horizonal bar game, you know, the one where someone has to hang from a bar for some length of time? it’s practically impossible because it rotates under your hands, yeah, yeah, steven—he knows.

but marc’s a guy with far above average fitness who climbs up walls on the reg. doesn’t even need khonshu’s power to beat it, he just hangs up there, smirking at you as the timer counts down. it’s the easiest prize he’s ever won in his life.

rides

marc’s whole life is a rollercoaster, so he’s ok.

but in all seriousness, the midway rides aren’t really his thing. they’re transported in from who-knows-where, then set up in a parking lot by who-knows-who, and you’re supposed to just let them flip you upside down over and over again while paying ten bucks for the honour? no. he does not trust them.

steven and jake, however, see all the bright lights and loud music and are a little more favourable.

steven probably feels nauseous at the idea of being put upside down, but travelling fast in a circle, or spinning around in teacups? he’s so down. will join you in spinning the teacups to the max or sport a devilish grin as he singlehandedly spins the teacup as you scream.

(will give you a lil kiss on the forehead as an apology if he accidentally takes it too far)

jake sees the crazier rides as a challenge. won’t push you to do them if you really aren’t comfortable, but he gets this spark in his eyes and promises to keep you safe if you ride with him.

what does that mean? it means that he has full confidence that if there’s a failure in any of the safety mechanisms, he can suit up and save you before anything bad happens.

marc is absolutely flabbergasted that jake “protector of the body” lockley even considers going on any of these deathtraps. loudly protests from within as jake tells you about how fast his reaction time is—it doesn’t matter, jake, just don’t take them on the ride in the first place!

the Ferris Wheel SceneTM goes a bit differently depending on who’s fronting at the time.

steven absolutely insists on going on the ferris wheel and will wait any length of line so that you can ride it.

“look at that!” he’s pressed against your side, shoulder to hip, and uses your joined hands to point out landmarks in the distance as you climb in height. the city lights glitter across the horizon, and steven laughs at the spectacle of it all.

he’s probably imagined this very moment happening ever since you told him that the carnival was coming to town—sitting on top of a ferris wheel with you at his side, being able to kiss you at the top.

“did you have fun?” you bump into his shoulder, smiling at how happy he looks.

“fun? love, this is—” he shakes his head. “today has been like a dream. you’re like a dream.”

he says the last part like a confession, grinning, and you feel his happiness when he finally gets to press his lips to yours.

jake suggests you go on the ferris wheel in the same way as when he suggested the two of you cheat at the carnival games, so you’re immediately suspicious.

“stop looking at me like that.” he tries and fails to keep a smirk off his face, giving you an innocent look as he rests a hand on your knee. “isn’t it beautiful outside?”

it is. you take your eyes off him for one moment to admire the view and his hand creeps higher, fingertips pressing into your thigh.

“jake!” your eyes widen, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh. he leans in close, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“nobody can see us up here—it’s just you and me.” his lips move down to graze your jaw, and your breath catches in your throat. your heart flutters.

“I like the sound of that.” jake pulls back slightly to see the small smile on your face. “’you and me.’”

it’s like you’ve taken the wind out of his horny sails. he can’t help but to smile back, and when he kisses you again, on the lips this time, you know that he agrees with you.

the ferris wheel is the only ride you can convince marc to go on; no matter what he says, he’s a big softie at heart.

he keeps an arm wrapped around you the entire time, holding you close. the scent of him envelopes you like a warm blanket.

marc doesn’t say a lot, preferring to just enjoy your company as you slowly make your way to the top. you don’t mind—you just rest your head on his shoulder and wait for him to open up on his own.

when you stop at the top, it’s like you’re in a movie. the neon lights spread out beneath you, your quiet breaths in the cabin, the soft kiss he presses to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and it means so much more than you’ll ever know. you smile up at him and he looks back at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen—like he’s at finally at peace, and you’re the reason why.

you can’t help but kiss him, then—let him taste the words as you say “I love you, too.”

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #i have no shame this is purely self indulgent

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transdruid · 5 months

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How to Get Better at Tarot (and other divination)

If you often find yourself stumped with a reading, or you're just getting started and are totally lost, this post is for you! I'm using tarot as a base, but this guide will help you learn how to improve your reading skills of any divination. I'm basing the points in what I've struggled with in the past, as well as stumbling blocks I often see other people get stuck on.

Step One: Practice. You hate this advice, I know, but it is the only way to actually get better. You have to fuck up. You have to try again, that's just how the world works. Sorry. Getting good at anything, but especially something as amorphous as divination, takes years. I have been practicing tarot for nearly five years, for less than half that time have I felt the click of confidence. Tarot is an investment!

Okay. You get it. You have to practice, but how do you practice? What can you do to make your practice more beneficial? How do you get the most learning you can out of every reading? Let's dig in!

Use Smaller Spreads

Simplification is your friend. If you draw too many cards, it muddies the water. Think of your reading as a bowl of water, and each card you draw as a drop of color. If you add one drop of red, and one drop of blue, the answer comes through as a clear purple. But if you start adding more and more drops of every color you can think of, the colors get all mushy and gross. If you frequently find yourself drawing more than four or five cards for a spread, chill! Your don't need that many, I pinky promise. As you gain confidence, you can add more cards. The goal here is to get clear answers, and pulling twelve cards is not going to get you there. I recommend sticking to one, two, or three card readings. Remember that tarot decks typically have 78 cards; when you get up to ten or more cards, you're pulling a significant portion of the entire deck. No wonder it doesn't make sense!

Ask Better Questions

There are good questions to ask your cards, and less good ones. For a start, tarot is not good at yes/no questions. If you are expecting a yes/no answer, turn to something like a pendulum or a coin toss.

Okay so that one is a bit obvious. Let's dig a bit deeper. When you pull out your cards, take the time to sit and think about why. What do you want out of this reading? Think about what cards are in the deck; do any of them actually work to answer the question you have? For example, if you're doing a deity confirmation, simply asking "who are you?" and drawing a card isn't going to work very well. There isn't a card in there with "Dionysus" written across it, and there are infinite possible answers. Instead, think about what could point you in the direction you need. "What's your vibe?" works a bit better. Then we could get a card such as The Devil, to stand for the indulgence and physical delights of wine. If this were the first question (who are you?), your first instinct would be 'ohmygoditsthedevilhimself! This spirit must be evil!' Instead, you know that the vibe is about something maybe a bit mischievous (taboo, even), or someone that was cast as the devil somewhere in history. Combine that with something like the Three of Cups and it's practically a neon sign saying "Hey! My vibe is about having a good time! Let's drink and party!" which leads right to my homie Dionysus.

Question phrasing is important. When you go into google and type in "Tarot Spreads" you get a lot of junk that tries WAY too hard to sound super smart and spiritual. "What part of myself do I hide from observation out of fear and/or shame?" Can be boiled down to "What am I ashamed of?" When I started tarot, I got most of my spreads by googling "tarot spread for ---". This works, but I often found myself pulling the cards, looking at the questions, and realizing I didn't actually know what the question was asking. If you find yourself in the position, try boiling down the question to it's essential parts.

Align Your Expectations with Reality

This ties into the above step, but I feel it deserves its own section. Tarot and divination are a tool we use to gain understanding of ourselves and those around us. Tarot is good for this! Play to this strength. Tarot can be used for practically any question, but there are some things that work better than others. Start with the things tarot is best at, then branch out to the more challenging questions! Think about what the cards themselves are able to say.

You should also be careful to consider if you should even be asking this question with divination. I have strict rules in place for what types of readings I accept. I do not use my cards to read the future. The future is ever changing, with infinite possibilities. I prefer to just let it happen. I do not do readings about school or tests (you're at school to learn! Not be told!). I do not do readings about medical problems. Those should be asked of a doctor. Morally, mixing the spiritual with physical health is not acceptable. When you turn to divination, ask yourself if divination is really the best way to get what you need.

Do Not Doubt Your Card Draws

Okay. So you've now thought about what you want from the reading, you've picked your questions, and now, finally, it's time to pull some damn cards. You shuffle, you draw, you flip, and --- wait a second, that can't be right?! Why did I get that card for this question?! I must have shuffled wrong, or picked the wrong cards!

Nope! You didn't! (Trust!)

Look at the cards. Observe them. Open your guidebook (I swear to god you need to actually use your fucking guidebook do not try to go without it oh my god--) and read the entire entry for every card. Sit with them some more. What jumped out at you in the descriptions? Trust your instincts! Meditate on them. If you don't get it, don't fall into the trap of drawing additional clarification cards. Remember the first tip? More cards equal a muddier reading.

Fine, you say, but what if the cards are really weird? What if they make less than no sense actually for real? Write that shit down in your journal, and wait until it makes sense. I'm serious about this. Sometimes readings only make sense months down the line, and sometimes it's above your current skill level. Interpret it to the best of your ability, and check back in six months later. If you're super impatient, try reaching out to someone who's ability you trust and ask their opinion! Just don't be offended if they say no. Interpretation is a lot of work!

If you (like I used to) continuously struggle with doubt about how/where/when to draw, how much to shuffle, and if you picked the right cards and maybe you should just scrap it and start over... Stop yourself. Come up with a routine and rules for the draw! Tell your deck "okay, one more shuffle, then I'm pulling!" and do that. You gave your deck the notice it needs to get its shit together, trust it!

Do Not Take the Cards Literally

You've heard this one. Everyone says it. But what does it mean? How do you not take the cards literally?

Let's start with the example everyone knows.

XIII. Death

Whoa! You say, scary! Well, not really. Death indicates the ending of something, but not necessarily a life. Perhaps you're graduating school, and saying goodbye to that part of your life. Perhaps you're ready to move on from an outdated way of thinking. It depends on the context! Death is about cycles, about closing one door so you can open the next. This is really where the practice is going to set in.

Let's take a look at another one that tends to really ruffle peoples' feathers.

"Oh shit! It's XV. The Devil!"

Is Satan himself in the room with you right now?! Probably not. Does this mean something evil or bad is going to happen?! Is this a sign that everything is cursed?! Also no. I've seen plenty of people balk and backpedal as soon as The Devil turns up in a reading, but really they're balking at nothing. The Devil does not mean some evil spirit is trying to trick you. The Devil asks you to interrogate the taboos in your life and in the society around you. The Devil says "hey, wanna buy some Deathsticks?" Sometimes the answer is hell no, and sometimes it's "Fuck yeah Obi-wan wants to party!!!" Remember back a few sections ago, and I used The Devil as an indication of Dionysus? That's because Dionysus is the god of wine, of the party, the physical indulgences that society tells you are wrong.

Learning to Not Take The Cards Literally is hard, and takes practice. But that's why we gotta practice!

Be Not Afraid (of your guidebook)

The guidebook loves you. The guidebook wants to help you. The guidebook is there to guide you! Use it!! Too many readers place too much emphasis on doing readings without the guide, on being independent, and not using the "cheat sheet". Look into my eyes. That's bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. Memorization is a completely different skill from interpretation. Memorizing will leave out the details, the little things you forgot (and unless you have a photographic memory, yes, you will forget things). Sometimes all I need for a reading to click is one word in the guide, something I wouldn't have thought of without reading the book. Every deck is different. That's why they give you the guide. Someone put so much effort into the design of the cards, into the meanings behind the art. When you skip the guidebook, you're ignoring all the hard work that went into it. Don't make that writers work go to waste. Don't make them sad :(

How To Make Your Interpretation Better

Okay. You're trying not to think literally, you've read the guidebook, now what? "Good" tarot readings are incredibly subjective, and everyone will have a slightly different metric. But this is my post so we're using my metric!

Good tarot readings give you more questions. Good tarot readings ask you to interrogate yourself, and look at the real and true answers. Good tarot readings make you learn about yourself and the world around you. Good tarot takes into account the symbolism of the cards and melds it with the words of the guide. So let's take a look at some symbolism.

The Ten of Sticks and the Seven of Sticks. Starting with the ten, what do we see? Some dude with some sticks. But wait -- he's holding all ten sticks by himself. His back is bent, his arms are full, and we can't see his face. The ten of sticks is about carrying burdens, about responsibility.

Now the seven. Some rando just holding a stick, right? Take a second glance. He holds the stick like a staff, a weapon, in a defensive position. He stands on a hill, and we see him fending off all the other sticks. The seven of sticks is about taking a stand for what you believe in, having the conviction to stand up on a hill and fight for it!

If you draw the ten of sticks, ask yourself if you're overburdened anywhere. Think about the responsibilities in your life, if they're enough, if they're too much. If you draw the seven, think about the things you believe in enough to climb that hill. Why do you believe those things so strongly? What drives you to the defensiveness behind your position?

Symbolism is another one of those skills that will simply come with practice and time! If you don't get it, don't beat yourself up. I highly recommend getting your hands on an app or book that breaks down both the meaning and symbolism of the cards for you to reference (Galaxy Tarot is my favorite).

Something else you can do to increase your understanding is to study readings other people do. I learned so much from watching my partner interpret readings (@knightofhylia <333). Look at the cards and the interpretation, can you follow along, or do you get lost? If you're lost, pinpoint what threw you off track and focus in. Pull the cards out of your own deck, lay them out, read the guide. Did you come to the same conclusions, or something completely different? Why? How? Which interpretation do you like more? Why do you like that one?

Divination will always be a highly personal experience. To know your cards is to know yourself. Tarot was not designed to be easy, it's an esoteric skill. By definition, the esoteric is difficult to understand and grasp to beginners and outsiders. The esoteric is supposed to leave you pondering, wondering, and asking more questions. With perseverance, you too can learn to understand the mysterious!

#Tarot #divination #tarot cards #cartomancy #card divination #beginner tarot #how to read tarot #tarot guidance

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irb-pascalito-99 · 4 months

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Date Night

Pairing: Joel x f!reader

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: My younger sister Ellie and Joel’s daughter Sarah go on a school trip for the weekend, leaving Joel and I alone for the first time since we started seeing each other in secret.

Warnings: SMUT, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, breaking furniture

A/N: This is an excerpt from chapter thirteen of my a03 fic Always an Angel, Never a God. For more chapters on this pairing please go to a03.

I turn in the bed and attempt to push Joel to wake him up. He grumbles and pulls me closer to him. I push him again and whisper his name.

“Joel! Get up, it’s almost 8:30. We overslept!” Joel looks up at the alarm clock as well. When it starts to sink in he jumps up and starts shoving his clothes back on.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I guess I forgot to set an alarm.” I wrap myself in a robe and start gathering Joel’s things off the floor.

We’ve been trying to be more careful since the night of Ellie’s nightmare. We’ve started spending less time together so I can start focusing on Ellie more.

Her grades have continued to make an improvement, and we’ve been getting along great. She often comes to draw in the art studio while I paint. We’ve been setting an actual routine.

I still have no idea whether or not she’s having more nightmares. Sometimes at night I wait in the hallway trying to listen to any noises of distress, but I haven’t heard anything. I got her in to see a therapist once a week, hoping that even if she isn’t talking to me about it, maybe she’ll talk to someone. She seemed apprehensive to the idea at first, but she seems to really be opening up to her now.

I text Joel throughout the week, but we keep our visits to weekends only now, something that makes the time we do have together seem more precious and finite. Desperate touches linger as long as possible, while we wait in each other’s beds as long as we can.

He was not supposed to come over on a Thursday night, but after the day he had at work he begged to see me. We surprised Ellie with a Sarah sleepover and waited to sneak Joel back in until after the girls were asleep. He was not supposed to spend the entire night, but at some point gentle caresses turned to sleepy eyes which turned to dreams.

Now, Joel walks as quickly as he can down the stairs without making too much noise. I hurry after him, making glances up to the top of the stairs to ensure one of the girls didn’t come out of Ellie’s room. We make our way toward the front door, but just as his hand reaches for the handle we hear noises in the kitchen.

“Dad?” Sarah asks as she rounds the corner. My heart leaps in my chest while I turn around. Did she see him come down the stairs?

“Hey! Good morning!” Joel says cheerily. He glances at me quickly and then moves to Sarah. “Just came to pick you guys up for school.”

If Sarah finds it strange, she doesn’t say anything. She hugs her dad tight and drags him into the kitchen. He looks at me over his shoulder and motions for me to follow.

Inside the kitchen Ellie and Sarah are making breakfast. There are ingredients all over the counter, which are a disaster, and the smell of eggs wafts through the air.

“We need to make some for dad too!” Sarah says to Ellie who uses a spatula to push the eggs around the pan. Sarah makes her dad sit at the kitchen table and looks at me to do the same.

Joel and I sit awkwardly while we wait for the girls to finish cooking, not wanting to seem suspicious. When the eggs are done Ellie brings plates over for us containing scrambled eggs and toast. Sarah walks over with two big glasses of orange juice. Joel makes a face when she puts his juice down on the table in front of him but forces himself to drink it anyway.

His knee brushes mine as the four of us eat breakfast. The girls didn’t do too bad considering their lack of experience with cooking. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Joel take a piece of eggshell out of his mouth.

“Did you bring my bag?” Sarah asks Joel as we finish eating.

“Bag?” Joel asks with his mouth full. Sarah rolls her eyes and looks at Ellie.

“For the trip…” Joel furrows his brows in confusion for a moment, dropping his fork and muttering to himself when he remembers. “Dad!”

Joel clears the table in a hurry and looks at his watch. He rushes the girls to grab their things so they can go.

“We’ll pick it up on the way,” he says. I hand Ellie her bag as they start to head out the door. Sarah and Ellie while Joel waits in the doorway. “They’ll be gone for a whole weekend…”

He has a mischievous look spread across his face as he stands beside the front door. He closed the door almost fully, so the girls can’t see the two of us. I laugh and shake my head. The girls are headed on a class trip this weekend, leaving both Joel and I child-free for the first time since we started whatever this is.

“I’ll see you soon then,” I chuckle.

“Tonight? I can come over here after work. I’ll stay the whole weekend if you’ll let me” I bite my lip as I grin at the thought of how eager he is to see me again.

I nod and he glances a look at the girls through the crack in the door before quickly pulling me in for a kiss. We’re both smiling like idiots when he leaves.

—

It’s hard to focus the rest of the day. There are several times either Frank or Bill had to say my name until I snapped out of whatever weekend daydream I had followed out of reality. It doesn’t help that Joel kept me up so late last night as well. I try to tell them that I’m just tired, but I can tell neither of them believe me.

I ended up having to stay a little later than I hoped due to a reconstruction project I needed to get finished before the weekend set in, so I quickly shoot Joel a text.

Me: Hey, things are running late at the shop. Looks like I’m going to be another hour, but the key is under the doormat if you want to let yourself in :)

Joel: Sounds good! Also, doormat? We gotta fix that, anybody could find it there and just walk in…

I giggle at his protectiveness and put my phone away again. Nearly two hours later I’m finally pulling into the driveway of my home. Joel’s truck is parked in the garage in case Maria or Tommy drive by. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I walk up to the front door.

I don’t see any lights on when I walk up the front steps, but there’s a faint flicker between the blinds. I open the front door slowly, the smell of freshly cooked food emanating from the kitchen the second I do. The floor between the kitchen and front door is covered in rose petals and the walkway between the two is surrounded by tiny little tea lights.

I feel my face flush as I make my way down the path, pausing for a second to put my keys in the bowl Joel made me. When I get to the kitchen I find Joel at the table, plating something he had just pulled off a pan. He looks at me with the biggest smile on his face and places the empty pan in the sink.

“Hey darlin,” he says as he makes his way over to me and presses his lips to mine.

The table is also set up nicely, with a red tablecloth spread across it that Joel must have either brought from home or bought today. There’s a bouquet of flowers in a vase set in the middle and flower petals sprinkled across the surface as well. There are even petals sprinkled across the kitchen island along with more tea lights to help illuminate the kitchen. Two taper candles sit beside the vase on the table and he’s set two plates of food across from each other with what looks like steak and scallops on top.

“What?” I ask, looking between the table and him. He grabs my hand and kisses the top of it.

“I know we can’t really go on an actual date because we’re keeping this thing secret, but I thought you deserved something special.” He says.

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he watches my reaction. I’m not sure how to respond. I feel the emotions well up in my eyes as I take it all in. This is by far the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, and there’s a part of me that wonders if I deserve it. I’m the one forcing us to keep this a secret. I’m the reason we can’t be a real couple. I push those emotions down and blink a couple of times to keep the tears at bay.

“Thank you,” I say. I kiss him again, slowly. It isn’t like the rushed passionate kisses we normally exchange in a rush to have each other before the time runs out. Something deeper lingers in this one, a shared emotion exchanging between the two of us despite the fact that neither of us are ready to say it out loud. It floats in the open air as we pull away. “Give me one second.”

Joel looks confused when I turn back toward the stairs and rush off. I quickly run up to my bedroom and search for something else to wear, something more deserving of this occasion.

I pick out an olive green satin dress with little flowers embroidered on it from the back of my closet. When I put it on I ditch my bra and pick out a pair of my sexier underwear. I make sure to throw my work clothes in the laundry hamper in my closet and I take my hair out of the braid it’s been in all day as well, letting the waves settle down my shoulders before I head back down the stairs.

Joel watches with wide eyes as I make my slow descent. I have to fight a giggle from escaping my lips when his jaw literally drops as I move into full view of him. His hands immediately find my hips when I’m within reach of him and his eyes roam over my figure once more.

“God damn,” he mutters under his breath. My cheeks warm again.

I pull from his grasp enough to do a little twirl so he can see the whole dress. When I turn around I hear a sharp intake of breath from him before he grabs my hips again to pull my body against his. He immediately buries his face in my neck, kissing up the side of it as he pulls my hips flush with his. I lose myself in it for a second, allowing myself to melt against him as he bites down on my neck and grinds against me.

“Joel,” I say breathily. I remember the dinner on the table in front of us and grab his hand as it attempts to roam down my thigh. “Joel, stop, dinner.”

“Screw dinner,” Joel groans and runs his tongue over the last place he nipped on my neck.

I laugh at his eagerness to suddenly ditch the meal he spent all this effort setting up. It’s tempting to cave, to follow our desires and let him take me right here. Even though we just spent last night together, I still can’t get enough of him. He leans in to kiss my neck again and I twist away.

“Okay now, hands to yourself. I want my date mister.” Joel sighs and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever she wants,” he says. He flashes me a grin again.

He makes his way to one of the chairs and pulls it out for me. He pushes it in after I sit down, then grabs the uncorked bottle of wine from the middle of the table. I watch him pour a glass for me before making his way to his chair. He pours himself a glass too. After he pours his glass he lifts it in the air.

“To our weekend in paradise,” he says, reaching across the table to grab my hand. I squeeze his hand and smile.

“To our weekend in paradise,” I repeat and clink my glass against his. We each take a sip, refusing to let go of each other’s hands until we eventually have to in order to cut the steak.

Despite the fact that this technically is our first date, it feels more like we’ve settled into a domestic routine. We don’t make the typical small talk where you ask about each other’s lives or hobbies. Instead he asks about the shop and my restoration project. He tells me how excited the girls were for their trip. We hold hands whenever we can and I see him stealing glances of me through the corner of my eyes as I tell him a story about Bill’s heated exchange with a customer today.

When he’s done eating Joel patiently waits for me to finish. He stares at me like I’m the only thing worth seeing. I fidget self consciously under his gaze.

“What?” I ask, finishing my food and bringing my wine to my lips to take another sip. Joel grins and shrugs.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he responds. My face warms again as I put my glass down. I keep my eyes on the candle wax that’s begun to drip onto the tablecloth.

Joel rubs circles on the back of my hand for a moment and then gets up. He turns on some music in the background. He takes a couple of the empty dishes from the table, moving them to the sink. I finish my glass of wine and get up to help him clear the table but when he turns to see me with dishes in my hand he almost looks offended.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, taking the dishes out of my hand. He places them in the sink while I look at him confused.

“I’m helping clean up,” I respond, grabbing the two candles from the table and blowing them out. He grabs my wrists once I’ve placed them on the kitchen island and pulls my chest to his.

“Your only job right now is to stand there and look pretty. Let me take care of you.” I roll my eyes at him. The constant argument between us coming up yet again, his insistence that I sit back and let him take care of me. It’s annoyingly predictable at this point.

I sigh and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He smiles, thinking he won the argument. I lean my head against his chest as he wraps his arms around my waist. Neither of us said anything about dancing, but we slowly find ourselves saying to the music. He grabs one of my hands from his neck and twirls me slowly in a circle.

When he pulls me back to him his hands grip my back as he dips me. He leans down and brushes his lips against my clavicle while my hair fans out below me. He presses soft kisses down my chest, stopping just above the hem of my dress. He notices then, my lack of a bra and groans, pulling me back up to stand. Joel takes a step back, his eyes darkened with last.

“Show me,” he says. I slowly move my hands to the straps around my neck. I pull the tie until it loosens, keeping my eyes on Joel’s as I let the dress fall to the floor around me. He licks his lips and lunges forward the second it hits the floor.

One of his hands grips my neck as he kisses me passionately while the other squeezes my butt. He walks me backward until my hips bump into the kitchen table. I let out a moan when his lips leave mine to pull one of my nipples into his mouth instead. His fingers pull me impossibly closer as mine roam across his shoulders.

He lets go of my nipple with a pop and moves on to the other. My hand moves down his chest as he does so, fighting to undo the buttons of his shirt. I finally manage to get his shirt open as he pulls away. Joel’s eyes rake over my figure, consuming me as the candlelight flickers behind him.

“You’re so damn gorgeous baby, like a piece of fuckin’ art,” I giggle and he pushes me back, laying me out on the kitchen table.

It creaks under the pressure of my body laying on top of it. I almost ask him to get me down, but I forget the words as he starts kissing down my breasts and stomach. He stops at the waistband of my underwear. I whimper and tug at his hair in anticipation. He pulls my panties down my legs, his hands running down my skin gently, and shoves them in the pocket of his jeans.

He gets down on his knees in front of me, pulling me to the edge of the table and hanging my legs over his shoulders. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch as he dives into my dripping core. His tongue laps hungrily at my folds. I throw my head back in pleasure, biting my lip as my body begins to shake. He grips my thighs tightly as he sucks on my clit.

“Fuck baby, you like that?” I whimper and nod my head. His lips twist into a smile before he thrusts his tongue inside me, curling it and pulling me closer to him. His nose bumps my clit sending shockwaves through my body.

I’m so close already. I pull at his hair while the coil builds, whimpering and shaking as I get closer and closer to the edge. He takes one of his hands from my thighs and sinks two fingers into my heat, immediately curling them to hit the sensitive spot inside me. I moan and shift on the table which creaks again.

My breaths are coming out in short pants as he continues working me up. He thrusts his fingers harder, lapping at my folds with more fervor as my body teeters on the edge. I look down to see him peering up at me with hungry eyes, watching my every reaction as though in worship. The look in his eyes is what pushes me over the edge.

My hips buck into him and I pull his hair as my orgasm crashes over me. He continues his pace, allowing me to ride out my climax for as long as possible. When the pleasure turns to sensitivity I push his shoulders away. He cleans my folds gently with his tongue in my aftershocks and places gentle kisses up my thighs before raising himself from the floor.

His shirt still hangs across his shoulders, the front completely unbuttoned to expose his bare chest. I move my hands up his chest as he stands between my knees and kisses me softly. My hands linger further down as he deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against mine as I unbuckle his belt. I shove his pants down his thighs and he helps push them down to the floor and off to the side.

He moans into my mouth as my hand brushes against his bulge on the outside of his boxers. I trace the outline of it with my finger and feel him shiver against me. I reach in and pull his cock out, pumping it a couple times in my hand. He pulls away from my lips and rests his forehead against mine as his breathing gets more shallow. He lets me play with it for a second, and then pulls his boxers off as well. His chest heaves as he watches me position his tip at my entrance.

“Fuck sweetheart, just like that.” He groans and then begins to push in. I moan quietly at the stretch of it. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the size. He pulls me further onto his cock with one hand on my hip as the other grips the back of my neck. “That’s it darlin’ let me in. Takin’ it so well.”

I moan again, one hand grasping the back of his neck. The other is tangled in the tablecloth underneath me as he pushes the rest of the way in. I bite my lip to stifle my sounds while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face with his eyes and moves the hand on my neck to my jaw, brushing my lip with his thumb.

“It’s okay baby, nobody’s here. You can be as loud as you want.” He reminds me.

We’re completely alone, for a whole weekend. No taking care of anyone. No worrying about washing the girls up. No hiding for either of us. I had forgotten what it felt like to be free from that kind of responsibility.

He slowly pulls out and then slams back into me. I let out a high pitched moan as he continues to pound into me, my hand on the table gripping the tablecloth desperately. He sets his pace hard and fast, groaning each time he pushes in.

The table shifts with each thrust, creaking as it does, but I couldn’t care less at this point. Joel leans his face into my chest and kisses my breasts. My hand leaves the tablecloth to grip his shirt instead.

“That’s it baby, let me hear you sweet girl. Let me hear those sounds you make.” Joel says against my skin. I moan louder and pull him closer. He starts to thrust even harder.

I feel my next orgasm building in my core. I clench around him and he moans out as well. He kisses up my neck, leaning his forehead against mine as I get closer.

“Don’t stop. It feels so good. Joel! Please don’t stop.” He grins at me as he keeps his pace.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart. Fuck! You feel so good.” I slip my hands under his shirt to scratch at his back as I teeter on the edge of my climax.

The only sounds in the room are our shared moans and the increasingly loud creaks of the table as it thumps with each thrust. Joel plus his forehead away from mine to look over my figure, his eyes settling on where our hips join. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. He groans and thrusts harder. The table groans as well and then crashes to the ground, sending Joel and I to the floor with it.

“Shit,” Joel says when we hit the ground, but he doesn’t stop.

I should be more concerned about my broken kitchen table, but all I can think of right now is how good this feels. I lay down, my hair fanning out across the messy table cloth and flower petals.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” I moan. Joel moves his hand to my folds, his thumb being to circle my clit.

“That’s it baby, let go. Come for me. Come on babygirl.” I moan so loud I’m sure the neighbors can hear as my second climax crashes over me. He pulses inside me as I clench around him, staving off his own orgasm until mine subsides.

As I come down he sloppily thrusts into me a couple more times and then pulls out, ropes of come splattering against my thighs and lower stomach. He groans as he lets go and then collapses on top of me.

We both pant as we come down. My hands start to play with his curls as he rests his weight against me. After several minutes he rolls over slightly so I can breathe better, but keeps his head on my chest. The coarse hairs of his beard tickle as he breathes in and out.

“I made chocolate strawberries for dessert,” he says and I laugh loudly. He chuckles as well, running his hand down my side absentmindedly.

“What about the table?” I ask. Joel looks at the broken piece of furniture beneath us as if just now noticing it and shrugs.

“I can fix it,” he responds. “Was a piece of shit anyway if it broke just from that.”

I giggle and pat his head. He looks at me confused and I run my finger across the line between his brows.

“I can fix it, was a piece of shit anyway,” I say, mocking his tone. He rolls his eyes and presses his cheek against my chest again. “I didn’t know you could build tables.”

“I’m a contractor,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to the side of my breast. I suppose he has a point in that he literally builds houses for a living, but I figured furniture would be different than that. “Plus I do some woodworking as a hobby.”

“You do woodworking?” Joel nods. “Like what? Building furniture and stuff?”

I tilt my head down to look at him as he draws patterns on my skin with his finger. Joel shrugs and I shake my head.

“Sometimes I make little figurines. Started when Sarah was little and it just kinda stuck.” I kiss the top of his head, rubbing my hands down his muscular arms.

“I’d like to see that sometime.” I say.

We stay laying on the kitchen floor for a little while longer until Joel starts to complain about his back aching. He helps me stand up and glances over my body again. I’m still covered in remnants of him.

“Let’s clean you up darlin’,” he takes my hand and leads me upstairs.

#pedro pascal #smut #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou #joel smut #fanfic #tlou hbo #a03 fanfic #a03 writer #joel miller smut

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umbrify · 7 months

Text

Wip Wednesday! Today, I’ve got a snippet of one of @made-nondescript and I’s longest standing AU’s, the fWhimmy Mer AU

There’s someone else at the docks.

He hadn’t noticed until he made it most of the way down the narrow path, the hardy desert shrubbery obscuring his view. But, there’s definitely someone else here— looks like they’ve gone for a swim? They’re right near the end of the twin set of docks— if he could even call them that, at this point— and he can just barely catch the flashes of movement through the gentle waves.

And, Jimmy supposes, it can’t possibly be that unusual, though he’s never seen someone else here before. But, well, that’s not about to stop him, really. He trudges down the rocky beach regardless, the full moon overhead lighting his path.

—

fWhip spends a lot of time here, at night. The quiet waves lapping at the shore, and the sky’s reflection in the water… it’s peaceful. Relaxing. He enjoys it. Good for a late night swim by the coast. Might even find something good here to take home, if he’s lucky.

What’s not so relaxing, is that someone else has just thrown themself down on the docks, huffing loudly.

Not exactly what fWhip had in mind, for tonight. Well, too late to leave now, he’s already been seen.

“Uh— hey man…?” fWhip says cautiously.

The man heaves a sigh, blond hair falling into his eyes as he rests his tanned arms on his knees, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Hey,” the man says, “long night for you as well, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” fWhip pulls himself partly out of the water, using his arms to prop himself up on the docks. “What’s, uh— you wanna talk about it?”

The man sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just— it’s a lot of work, you know! So many things came up today, and—“ he throws his arms in the air, “I can’t be everywhere at once!”

fWhip’s brow furrows slightly, confused. What exactly this guy is talking about, he can’t say for sure. But… asking him to clarify doesn’t really seem like the correct move here, fWhip thinks.

“Yeah, I get you,” he offers slowly instead.

He can’t say he finds himself in a situation like this often— or ever, really.

Gem’s not gonna be happy.

He shakes his head lightly— problems for future fWhip, he figures. Luckily, it seems like this stranger isn’t paying him much mind.

“And it’s just—“ the man leans back, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, “I know Joel was busy too, I get that. But I wish he could’ve— I dunno! Helped a bit more?”

fWhip tilts his head to one side, letting out a questioning hum.

Joel?

“It’s not his fault, really. I’m not mad. He was busy,” the man waves a hand in the air idly, “now that we’re in the dry season, he’s got a lot of planning to do, improvements and whatnot— I get it. I really do. It’s just—“ he cuts himself off with a groan.

fWhip can’t help but feel just a little bit… baffled, by this whole thing. New day, new experience, he supposes. He figures it’s best to play along, just in case.

He does sink a little bit lower into the water, though. Just in case.

“And, you know,” the man continues, “I was in the office all afternoon, doing— might I say, a ridiculous amount of paperwork, how could there possibly be so much—“ he exhales sharply. “I had other things I wanted to do. The horses needed to be brushed today. He didn’t even brush the horses.”

“He didn’t even brush the horses,” fWhip echos. “That sucks, man.”

Horses…? Like… seahorses? And he brushes them?

“But,” the man speaks quickly, “Pix needed my help, and it’s not like I’m gonna say no— it needed to be done anyway— it wasn’t gonna get done on its own!”

A strong gust of wind blows over from the ocean. The man shivers slightly, tugging his sleeves down. fWhip draws his arms closer to his chest, one hand reaching up to fiddle absentmindedly with the gold chain around his neck.

“It’s not like I had anything better to do, but I had things I’d rather have been doing, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah no, I feel you,” fWhip says.

What in the world is this guy on about?

“It feels like this day’s been a week long, at least,” the man grumbles, pulling a hand across his face, “and I can’t sleep, but I feel dead tired anyway.” He laughs, dryly. “What a scam, right?”

Now, that, fWhip understands. “I’ve had days like that before, for sure,” he agrees, “it’s… rough.”

That day may as well have been a century long, for all the difference it would’ve made. Oli’s shouts for help, and Joey— gods, Joey… splinters of some sort of wood embedded into his skin, blood trickling from each wound, staining the water around them a sickening peachy red. He'd never seen anything quite like it before. He never wants to again. fWhip blinks quickly, exhaling a sharp breath.

And after all that, to be told they had to leave…? Could barely even wait for Joey to recover before they had to go— and it’s not like they’d ever leave him behind, no. They had to go with him.

Maybe if he’d been there, or if they’d been quicker, maybe… maybe Joey wouldn’t have been hurt. He doesn’t know. fWhip shakes his head. Not the time.

“I’ll get over it,” the man mutters, seemingly oblivious to fWhip’s blank, faraway look. The man rests his chin on his hands as he pulls himself into a sitting position, sighing softly.

An uneasy quiet rests over them as the man stares blankly out over the ocean, stars shimmering in the water’s reflection. fWhip’s eyes briefly dart away, out towards the sea.

Maybe… would he notice if I—

“Oh, I’m Jimmy, by the way,” the man— Jimmy, says suddenly, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before?”

—

“Uh—“ the man in the water stutters, “I don’t uh— don’t get out much, you could say?”

“Don’t get out much, huh?” Jimmy muses, casting a brief glance at the man, who’s sopping ginger hair obscures most of his features. He’s able to catch sight of a single golden chain around the man’s neck, glinting softly in the moonlight as he twists it between his fingers. “Did I ever catch your name?”

“It’s— uh—“ the man’s eyes dart out towards the ocean before snapping back to Jimmy’s face. “It’s fWhip.”

Jimmy hums a noncommittal note, looking back over the ocean, waves lapping gently against the docks. He rests his head fully onto his arms, eyes drooping slightly.

Jimmy takes a sort of comfort, in the quiet. Wind rustles softly through the trees, casting ripples across the water. He takes a slow, deep breath, letting his shoulders relax. It’s awful nice down here, what with how the dense shrubbery dampens any ambient sounds from the town nearby. It’s peaceful, even with the company.

Of all nights he’d find someone else here, he reckons tonight would make the most sense. Can’t blame anyone for wanting to take some time away from it all— he knows he sure needed it— and these docks, despite their age, have always been nice this time of the year. He runs a hand across the old planks, picking idly at a small patch of moss growing into the wood.

Honestly, Jimmy finds he rather doesn’t mind the company at all. Makes it a bit less spooky here, at night, and the guy seems nice enough.

He is dreadfully tired, though. Perhaps he ought to head back soon. Still plenty to do tomorrow, after all. Really, his time spent here could’ve been much better spent elsewhere— either sleeping at home, or even just getting a bit more done.

Always more, isn’t there?

fWhip clears his throat.

“I think I’m gonna head out now,” he says.

“Yeah, alright, see you later man,” Jimmy mumbles, not looking up.

A soft splash, and then, silence, once more. Jimmy blinks slowly. He really better make his way home, too, before he’s too tired to get back up that trail without tripping over his own feet.

Or, maybe five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore is almost a bit hypnotic, and Jimmy finds himself spacing out for a moment longer, staring blankly out towards the sea.

Wait.

Jimmy sits up suddenly, whipping his head around behind him, before sharply turning back to the water. The dock next to him is dry, save for the faint wet imprint of fWhip’s arms on the far side. He stands.

Where did that guy just go?

He can’t see any sort of water tracks across the docks— and there would’ve been, right? That guy was in the water the whole time, surely there would’ve been.

And why was he in the water anyway, this late at night?

And who was he?

Jimmy rubs his eyes blearily. Perhaps he’s more tired than he realized. Surely he’s just— he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to think. He shakes his head, making his way back up the path into town.

He’ll think about it again in the morning.

#fWhimmy mer au #empiresshipping #umbrify writes #empires smp

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lyramundana · 9 months

Note

Hello! Your request of Bang Chan being jealous/controlling is set to be written in August.

But since we are both a lover of soft smut, can I pls request inexperienced reader with Chan? Just something comforting and sweet.

Thank you :)

I'm incredibly, tremendously sorry for the long waiting. I'm the queen of procrastinating and I had zero ideas of how to proceed with this one, but mostly it was procrastinating. I'm not confident on writing soft smut scenes, but I'll try my best here:

Again, sorry for the waiting, and I hope this turned out decently. It's been on my drafts for a long while, but I never found the headspace to finish it:

When you were first starting to get to know Christopher, it was obvious he was experienced in that field, which made you slightly insecure about your own lack of it and it worried you that he might had find you less desirable.

Surprisingly, not only he was very understanding and sweet about it, but he seemed to want you even more.

He gladly took over everything. If you weren't sure, he guided you through it with his gentle voice and safe hands. Needless to say, your first time with him was mindblowing and better than you could've ever imagined. In fact, you enjoyed it so much that you felt yourself growing addicted to it.

You never thought you could grow so needy and horny for a man, and it made you feel a bit embarrassed sometimes, but he made clear how much he loved it.

You come home after an awful day. Everything seemed to go the opposite way of what you wanted, and added to the sexual frustration you are already carrying, you are beyond stressed. Your boyfriend is there, waiting for you to arrive, and as soon as he notices your mood, he hops you in his arms to comfort you.

-Hey, babygirl. What happened? Do I need to beat up someone? -he caressed your hair, kissing your forehead as he spoke in his gentle, loving voice. You felt yourself melt in his arms and the stress slowly leaving you.

-Just a bad day, that's all. I'm so sick of everything. -you murmur with your face buried in his shirt, and you happened to feel his strong pecks right under it.

Your skin feels hotter and it has nothing to do with the weather.

He rubbed your back, soothingly.

-You know what, baby? How about we take a long, warm bath and you try to relax? And maybe you can tell me about your day -he said as he left a kiss on the top of your head.

You stilted in his arms, lookin up with big doe eyes. A bath sounded great indeed...until you realized he intended to take it with you.

You would die.

And that's how minutes later, you found yourself buried in the warm water that reached your shoulders, with Chris' chest against your back and his arms surrounding your torso. Sometimes, his fingers draw circles on your sides and it drove you mad. How long has it been since your last intimate time together, after all? Weeks? A month?

-Try to relax, baby. I can see the steam coming out of your ears -he spoke against your temple. - You've been tense since I hugged you. Is it something I did?

-No, love. It's not about you. - well, partially yes, but it wasn't the main problem. - Its just..it feels like i'm doomed. No matter how hard I try or how much I improve myself, things go the opposite of how I want them to. I know i'm trying my best, but it doesn't feel enough. -you choked halfway through the words and you sniffed back your tears.

Your boyfriend was in silence for a bit. He pulled you closer to him as he noticed the strain in your voice.

-Oh, baby, it's okay. I understand what it's like, i've been there too. -he laid his head on top of yours, sighing. - It's fucking frustrating, I know, but we have to accept that, sometimes, it doesn't matter how hard we work, some stuff are out of our control and there are things we can't prevent. You're human, love, so you have limits. Don't be so harsh on yourself. -he kissed your neck- for what it's worth, you're more than enough in my eyes. You're perfect.

Your heart was melting as he said that, wanting to cry again but this time out of love. You can't know what you did to deserve for this man to devote himself to you, but you hope it lasts forever.

-I missed being with you like this - you muttered, looking up to him to kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiled and then kissed your lips, sucking your lower lip teasingly. You whined. - Don't do this to me, Christopher, or else..

-Or else what? Tell me, babygirl - he said with an annoyingly sexy grin. His hands descended slowly down to your hips, fingers brushing your inner thighs at times.

You gasped, grabbing his hands to stop them.

-Chris, please..

-What was the last time you had an orgasm, sweet thing? -your grip did nothing to him, as he continued tracing lines inside your thighs, now with his lips brushing your neck.

-I..dont't recall. Last month, I think? I don't know! -you cried as he started to drift closer to your core.

-Oh? You haven't been taking care of yourself, you mean? You know I don't like that, babe -he sounded serious now, pinching your skin to make your squeal.

-I know, it's just...-shit, you couldn't believe you were gonna say it. - I can't...only you can make me feel good. I don't know how do it without you!

His motions stopped suddenly and you whined at the loss. Before you could protest, he turned your whole body until you were facing him, sitting directly in his lap. You felt how hard he was and the words died in your throat.

-Fuck, baby, you can't say that shit to me like it's nothing. - he lunged at your neck and bite the skin harshly, making you moan as he left a mark. -You're so good for me. My good girl, who can't even pleasure herself without my help. You need me, don't you?

You struggled to find your voice with the sudden change of events.

-Y-yes -you gasped when his head brushed your clit. - I don't know-fuck-what to do without you.

His expression softened for a moment, right before acquiring a calculating gaze in his eyes.

-I hate it when you neglect yourself, pretty, but I understand you couldn't help it. I fuck you so good your little hand just can't compare, right? - he closed his eyes as he kept grinding your hips against his. -And you've been busy lately, haven't you? Poor baby must been so stressed. -he took your nipple in his mouth, licking and twirling it in his tongue, making you whimper and grip his shoulders. -You deserve a reward

You gulped. Last time he said you ended up cumming five times in a row, shaking in his sheets and under his mercy.

He raised your hips, lowering you slowly down his raging cock. You sighed at the sensation, throwing your head back. You felt so deliciously full. God, you've missed him so much, missed this. He let out a hiss once he was fully inside you, burying his face in your shoulders and nibbling the skin. When he attempted to roll your hips unto his, you whined and stopped him.

-Shit, Chris, give me a second. You're so big. - you wrapped his neck with your arms and laid your forehead against his, letting him feel your heavy breath.

-My size hasn't changed, baby, but maybe your pussy has forgotten about me. -he chuckled, caressing your cheek. - Guess we'll have to fix that.

You clenched around his lenght with those words and he groaned.

-Please, do. -you begged him, hiding your face in his neck out, flustered. -Fuck the stress away, Daddy. Fuck me until I can't think anymore.

He tensed under you. Holy shit, he was a breath away of wrecking you until you were crying out loud, but had to remind himself this was about you, about making you feel better. He closed his eyes forcefully, taking a deep breath to not fall for his instincts.

-Say less, my love. Let Daddy take care of everything, mm? -his vouce sounded deeper now, tender.

He gripped your hips and began to guide you up and down his lenght. It was a slow, steady pace, but it got you moaning in his chest at the so craved friction. His teeth traced your neck softly, leaving purple marks as he pulled your hair to make more room for his mouth. His hands lowered down to your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he thrusted into you.

You began to bounce unconsciously against him, doing your best to keep up with him. You moaned as his hips shifted and found another angle to hit you deeper, making you tremble in his hold. God, he made you feel so good, your eyes growing glassy.

His movements haltered once he heard you sniff.

-Babygirl? What is it? Want to stop? - you panicked and kept grinding against him.

-No! Don't stop, please - tears flowed your vision. You hugged him tightly, sniffing in his neck. - It's just..you don't know know much I missed this. I haven't stopped aching for you since the last time, but I didn't know how to tell without sounding desesperate and I.. - he silenced with your his lips, swallowing your next words. He bit your lower lip gently and pulled a bit before letting you go.

-My pretty, perfect baby, what did I do to deserve you? -he covered your face in kisses as he fastened his thrusts, making you whimper in surprise and pleasure. - You couldn't ever sound desesperate to me. I'll drop anything to give you what you need, so please, don't refrain yourself like that. -he toyed with your nipples again, making you moan loudly. - I'm here for you, princess. It's my job and biggest joy to give you what you want. -he groaned as you clenched around him again. - Now, let's fuck the stres out of you.

You went on like this for a while, with a quick but gentle pace. Your sounds of pleasure filling the room, for whoever happened to hear them. You needed this more than him, this relief and comfort only he could give you. His words encouraged you to just take what you needed.

The knot started to form in your stomach and you still reacted like the first time, eyes wide open and body tense as you took in the incredible sensation. Like he could feel it, his fingers drifted to your clit and began to rub it expertly, helping you chase your high. He felt his own climax come at him violently as he watched the addicting sight of you cumming with a high-pitched scream for him, because of him.

His other hand pulled your face closer by the neck and smashed your lips together, swallowing your beautiful moans as he kept thrusting his hips up roughly. You clenched again and he had to throw his back at the feeling, a deep moan escaping his lips.

-Fuck fuck FUCK! - he pressed his forehead in the conjucture of your neck. You whimpered as you felt his warm seed filling you, and he grabbed your hips with an iron vice grip, moving you to milk out the last drop of his climax - Take it, babygirl, fucking take it.

You rolled your eyes and let yourself fall entirely unto his hold. With a deep breath, he adjusted his position and laid his head back on the bathub wall. He massaged your back and left you occasional kisses on your face, his softening dick tupped inside you, preventing his cum from leaking out.

You basked in the silence for a few minutes, your breathing eventually going back to normal. Your head felt all mushy and your body completely relaxed. Everything was good, the world set itself right back again.

You stood there until the water grew cold, you growing sleepy with his cuddles and him watching you with a soft smile, pure and raw love sparkling in your eyes.

#this draft has been haunting me for months #i don't know what the fuck is this but i tried my best #tho i won't be surprised if it turned out bad anyway so i apologize in advance #i'll probably never going to read this again #but i'm so fucking glad i finally finished it #bang chan smut #skz smut #my works #requested

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birgittesilverbae · 1 year

Text

tmtl: anniversary

There's a thump behind the couch, in the space between the living room and kitchen of the too-cramped short-term rental, and Beatrice stiffens. She sets her book down, retrieves the knife stowed beneath the couch cushion and silently unsheathes it. Notes the shimmering reflection in the television screen, just enough detail to give her a location, and then vaults over the back of the couch. She sweeps out her leg, knocks the figure to their back on the floor and presses the knife to their throat.

Beneath her Lilith arches an eyebrow, but doesn't fight back against the pin. "Hey, Beatrice."

"Lilith." Beatrice keeps the knife tucked tight beneath Lilith's chin, drawing a thin line of blood, as she takes her in for the first time since she'd left her in front of the Ark. Lilith's in a too-small hoodie and sweatpants, an extra inch of exposed skin at her wrists and ankles. There are scratches across her cheek, too fresh to have begun healing, and tear tracks glisten wetly in the light of the reading lamp.

Lilith has a pile of fabric clutched in one hand, and she looks up at Beatrice with unmasked sorrow in her eyes and presses it up against her chest. "Happy anniversary," she rasps, voice rough with disuse, careful with the weight of Beatrice's knife at her throat.

Beatrice has to take a second to breathe deeply and work it out in her mind, what exactly Lilith thinks they should be celebrating. She hasn't been keeping track of anything but the time that's passed since Ava went through the Ark three months, ten days, seven hours, and sixteen minutes ago.

"Five years," she says finally, a lump growing in her throat. Five years since she'd joined the OCS, since she'd found a family that it had taken only a fraction of that time to lose.

Lilith nods slightly, a small movement but still enough to drive Beatrice's knife further into her skin. She almost can't pull her eyes away from the blood droplet that leaves a trail down Lilith's neck as it slides beneath her collar. "I meant to wrap it, but I took a far more… direct route than I'd intended."

The corner of Beatrice's mouth quirks up despite herself, and her free hand brushes across the line of scratches on Lilith's cheek. She watches enthralled as they scale over and fade into her skin.

Lilith takes her wrist and ever so gently draws her hand away. "I've been looking after that cat for the better part of six months and she still can't stand me half the time," she remarks.

"Only half the time? That's an improvement"

Lilith scowls up at her and shoves the bundle into her hand. "Twerp."

"Bitch."

And then Lilith's gone in a ripple of fire.

Beatrice rests there on the floor for a long while, the scene of brimstone heavy in the air, her knife blade dark with a smear of Lilith's blood. It's not until she remembers Lilith's gift that she moves, settling back onto her heels and putting the knife aside to retrieve the bundle of fabric from where it had fallen to the tile beneath her in the wake of Lilith's departure. She grabs a handful of cloth and pulls, letting it unfurl as she lifts it.

Beatrice stares open-mouthed at the waxed canvas jacket, her throat tight, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. She'd never expected to see Shannon's jacket again, the same she'd worn on a flight back from her personal hell, the same Beatrice had pressed her face into again and again when drawn into a hug. She'd assumed it had been left abandoned in the destruction of Shannon's room. Not, presumably, tucked deep in a closet at Mary's apartment, only just now unearthed by Lilith.

She takes a shuddering breath and pulls the jacket over top of her sweater, brings the collar to her nose and inhales. The scent of cedarwood is so heavy in her nose, verging on cloying. She feels as though she might drown in it.

#fic: tmtl #warrior nun #myfic #mywn #sister beatrice #sister lilith

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aria-ashryver · 4 months

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Woven Threads and Winding Roads (Pt. 3&4)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Raine) Words: 1.3K Ratings/Warnings: General; none

Summary: Five times Tyril attempts to braid Raine’s hair; and one time those threads begin to come together again as they should.

A/N: Written as a gift during the Choices Secret Admirer event - Raine belongs to the wonderful @thosehallowedhalls 🌼💛 Also participating in Choices February 2024 with the prompts Eros, Philia, and Pragma.

‘I thought we were training swordplay,’ Tyril protested, rubbing at his arm where Raine had just landed an unarmed blow. The sun dipped low to kiss the horizon; the woods were cool and calm this time of evening, perfect for a spot of sparring, just the two of them.

They’d been trading the “we can relax now” argument back and forth between them as the weeks wore into months; Undermount remained as well-guarded, well-provisioned, and frankly boring as ever, and still some days Raine woke, her fingers itching for the comfort of a blade.

By some unspoken agreement, she and Tyril had kept room in their slowly filling schedules to prioritise their weapons training. Peaceful though their corner of the world may be, they wanted their skills sharp.

‘Imtura said my Boulder form needed work.’ Raine grunted, trying her damnedest to slam into Tyril with her shoulder. ‘She threatened to make me spar with Skullcrusher if I hadn’t improved my Kaytar by the time we saw her next.’

She lunged forward with a jabbing thrust that Tyril parried, stepping within his reach and trying her Boulder form again.

‘Here, be a little shorter for a moment, will you? Maybe just… humour me and fall down a little bit?’

Tyril stepped easily out of the way of her manoeuvre, the tip of his sword pointed low in a ready guard.

‘I think not.’

‘Damn it.’

They circled one another, blood humming with exhilaration.

‘You’re really not letting the cape thing go, hmm?’ Tyril smirked as Raine’s footwork turned a little more… swishy than was entirely necessary.

‘“Hero of Morella”, Tyril!’ Raine countered, a verbal riposte to match her swordplay as steel rang against steel. ‘How did it go? “Champion of the Realm and Saviour to all”? No, I am absolutely not letting the cape thing go. A title like that deserves a fancy cape now and then.’

Tyril gave her an unreadable stare. On the next swing of her blade, he side-stepped, grabbed the edge of her cloak, and jerked it so she stumbled off-balance.

‘Ack— hey!’ Raine laughed at the mischief dancing on his face. ‘Now who’s cheating!’

The leather band she’d tied her braid with came away in his hand; they traded blow after blow as her hair began to unravel.

Calling a draw some time later, they collapsed together on the soft earth, chests heaving. Their fingertips found each other’s in the grass, wildflowers and clover tickling their skin. The minutes passed in quiet harmony as they watched the sky melt from gauzy pink to deep tangerine, the sunset shining majestic through the gaps in the canopy.

Eventually Tyril pulled Raine upright; she sighed happily as he braided her hair once again, the slight tug of her roots against her scalp soothing as he worked. When he tied the end off with the leather band he’d stolen, she tugged it over her shoulder to inspect his work.

‘Not bad!’ Gingerly, Raine felt around her scalp. ‘You’re starting to get pretty good at this.’

‘I hope so,’ he said gently. ‘I can’t think of any other way I’d rather spend my time.’

‘What?’ Raine laughed. ‘Braiding hair?’

‘No.’ Easing her back down into the grass, Tyril captured Raine’s mouth in a slow, tender kiss. ‘Taking care of you.’

His kisses tasted of moonflowers and honeydew, the crisp, salt tang of sweat and steel. Raine drank him in deep, winding her arms around his neck to draw him close.

The world was easy, when it was just the two of them. When they had nothing and no one to please, little to think about except making the other smile.

Undermount was lovely… but sometimes, Raine found she couldn’t quite relax. She was plagued by this constant feeling that she was forgetting something. Missing something.

Some spark of adventure.

Life and laughter.

Camaraderie and purpose.

Her purpose was in loving Tyril now, she supposed. There was freedom in that. The joy he brought her was so abundant it almost terrified her sometimes. She could do worse than spending her days making him smile.

Happiness brimming in her heart, Raine wrestled Tyril onto his back, peppering his face with tiny kisses, feeling his eyes crease with a smile beneath her hands.

She pushed up onto her feet when he tried to kiss her back, darting just out of his reach.

Delighted, he laughed. ‘What are you doing now?’

‘Zephyr form! Try and catch me!’

Tyril’s expression lit with playful challenge. He sprang to his feet, his mouth curved in warning.

Grinning, Raine took off through the trees.

Raine jerked herself awake as Tyril brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead, pressing a kiss to her sleep-warm skin.

Groggily, she glanced around at the book splayed open in her lap, the fire burning low in the hearth. The embers crackled, their molten glow soothing against the night dark that had stolen into their bedroom.

‘Was your book so interesting?’ he teased. Her cheeks were pink and creased with sleep; strong as she was, it melted his heart to see her look so impossibly soft, at times.

Every day, Tyril found a reason to fall in love with her again.

‘It was, actually,’ she said, indignant. ‘I was utterly riveted… up until the part where I, uh, fell asleep.’

Tyril chuckled as Raine tugged her shawl around her shoulders, shifting to make room for him on the soft, shaggy rug before the fireplace. He breathed in the scent of her skin as she snuggled into his side; Raine smelled of old parchment and sunlight; of wild thyme and blade oil.

To him, she smelled of home.

Thumbing the dog-eared pages, Raine set her book aside. ‘Kade would love this series.’

‘You’ll have to lend it to him the next time he visits.’

Something soft glowed in Tyril’s chest at the warm smile that lit Raine’s face at the mention of her brother.

‘I’d like that.’

Snagging a pillow from the chair beside them, Tyril eased them back, his fingertips tracing idle patterns against her arm as he held her close.

‘We should put a bigger settee in the library,’ Raine mumbled into his shoulder, already half-asleep again. ‘So Kade can sleep there when he visits. If he wants.

Tyril pressed a kiss to her forehead, watching the firelight play in soft shadows across her face.

‘I miss him,’ she said quietly.

‘I know.’

‘I hope he has time to visit us soon. This house is too empty just for the two of us.’ Raine was quiet for a long time, before she added, ‘There isn’t enough laughter in the taverns here.’

Tyril had been feeling it too. That emptiness everywhere their friends weren’t. Kade. Mal. Imtura. Nia.

‘Tyril?’

‘Yes, my heart?’

Raine’s fingers knotted into the silk of his nightshirt.

‘Can we sleep down here by the fire tonight? I just feel like I need…’ Her words were lost beneath a shuddering yawn. ‘I don’t know what I need. But, will you stay with me? The bed is just… it’s too soft, sometimes.’

Some nostalgic pull hooked itself beneath Tyril’s ribcage. Gathering up the blankets from the bed, he nestled them around Raine, slipping in beside her to gather her close once more.

‘I will always stay by your side, beloved.’

Gently, he tugged the tie from the end of her braid, unravelling it with loving fingers. She groaned in contentment as he worked his fingers against her scalp, soothing away the day’s ache.

Tyril let the golden strands spill across his fingers, sunlight made solid. It wasn’t long before Raine’s breath had evened out beside him in peaceful rest. He watched her for a long time, memorising the lines of her face.

The wind blew cold beyond the frosted windows. It was a long time before sleep found him.

Click here for: [Prev - Parts 1&2]

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesfandomappreciation @choicesfebruary2024 @thosehallowedhalls @dutifullynuttywitch @lilyoffandoms @stars-are-within-me @jerzwriter

#blades of light and shadow #choices blades #tyril starfury #tyril x raine #tyril x mc #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choicessecretadmirer2024

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zmediaoutlet · 9 months

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ww: letters (2)

for the @wincestwednesdays prompt: begging

You remember—it was forever ago, even I barely remember it except that I was embarrassed, kind of. Not that I should’ve been, considering the kind of stuff you’d admit out loud, like it was nothing. We were on that job with—a ghost, I think it was—and I told you that I prayed. What I remember best is the look on your face. Like, you really thought you knew everything about me and I was pulling the rug out, not even meaning to.

I guess I’d never told you. We never talked about that stuff. I just assumed, with the kind of lives we led and the work we did, that you’d come to the same conclusion. If there was dark there had to be light. Should’ve realized. You always were a pessimist. You were usually right about the big stuff, too, but not this one. Although I guess we were both wrong, in the end. What I prayed to, that wasn’t what turned out to be the truth. Pretty much the opposite.

Today I got really drunk. One of those things I’ve practiced. You’re gone and I lose it. Mostly I pull it together, after a week or two, but today just—fell apart. The car blew a tire. Middle of Ohio; it hasn’t improved since you last saw it. Got a motel room and I walked in and there was this ugly brown carpet and uglier green blankets on the two beds and I just stood there, holding my bags, and I really, really wanted to kill myself. Like that was the best option. Like if I could just not be here anymore, looking at the beds and wondering what I was going to do the next day and the day after that, that’d—it wouldn’t solve anything. It’d just be a relief.

One of the times you and Dad left me with Pastor Jim, he asked if I wanted to come to his Sunday service. What else was I going to do. He only had twenty, thirty people in that little church and he let me sit in the back and he talked about faith. The evidence of things not seen. How small the soul could feel, how insignificant you could be in the face of the huge cresting wave of the dark, but how you could stand firm, anyway, and know that even if your own strength wasn’t enough you could call on some deeper greater thing and withstand whatever crashed down.

I’m out of practice. When we found out the truth I didn’t really know how to go back to that place. Plus, I realized that half the time the strength I was drawing on wasn’t any mystical distant thing but was just—us. The two of us in the car, looking out at the road together. The look you’d get when you thought of something funny and knew I was going to groan about it and you’d just grin bigger because I was groaning. Your shoulder against mine, in the dark. Steadiest thing in the world. I’m spun out, now. I don’t know what to brace against.

The impulse passed. Or I drowned it. Kinda feel like I’m going to puke. The room’s not spinning, at least. I killed the other thing but I still have the memories. Like how, back then, I went down under some vision and it was you, not any greater purpose or power, that caught my arm and eased me down and got a hand under my jaw, and said my name, and that was how I knew who I was. How I knew I could get through it, no matter what. I want that back so badly my whole body hurts. Though that could also be the hangover.

I can hear your voice, like you’re right behind my shoulder, saying, hey, you want a higher power, I got one right here. You always thought you were funny. I never laughed because—I don’t know, I just didn’t. But if you don’t mind I think I might take you up on that. No other offers going and I can see that wave, building higher. Bigger than me. Might need to borrow your lighter.

#wincest wednesday #wincest #my writing #happy wincest wednesday #suicide mention

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crissiebaby · 5 months

Text

Double Diaper Dare: Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, public humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, WAM, hypermessing, hypnosis, diaper filling, slime transformation, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“I-Is this a prank or something?”

Baffled by Codi’s sudden change in behavior, Crissie couldn’t help but have flashbacks to trick-or-treat night when she and Codi swapped personalities. Only this time, it was only Codi whose personality shifted, at least as far as Crissie could tell.

Shaking her head no in response to Crissie’s question, Codi didn’t appear bothered in the slightest by Crissie’s apprehension. “Hehe! Nuh pwank! Buh if chu wans…” she said, rubbing her hands together as she exploded into an abundance of mischievous giggles. As her laughter slowed down, she began to blow a bubble with the gum in her mouth, drawing Crissie’s attention to it.

*POP!*

“Hey, wait, didn’t you spit that out already?” asked Crissie, causing her to look back at the table where the gum was found, spotting that the once discarded gum wrapper was once again empty and unfolded. With the words, “Bubbly Baby,” written in bold on the wrapper cluing her in, it didn’t take her long to figure out what the purpose of that experimental gum was, “I-I think you might want to stop chewing that gum.”

However, as Crissie looked back at where Codi had been sitting, she was shocked to see that her babified roomie had disappeared without so much as making a sound. Having been so focused on deciphering the mystery behind Codi’s new attitude, it was no surprise that Crissie didn’t hear Codi slink away without a trace.

“Codi?! This really isn’t the place to go full Little Space!” shouted Crissie as she looked around frantically. Having written for the Test Dummy series several times, as well as making up various other CrissBaby inventions throughout her bibliography, she knew what dangerous, potentially perma-regressing stuff was in here. She may have wanted to see Codi open up her Little side more to her but this was NOT the way.

*POP!*

Whipping her head in the direction of the ear-piercing popping sound, Crissie began to make her way toward its source. Codi may have been sneaky but Littles could only be so quiet, giving her the upper hand. All she had to do was follow the popping and she’d find her eventually.

Passing through a set of hanging, opaque tarps, Crissie entered into the greater testing area, where Mark’s control console and various other testing devices that were further along in development were located. At the moment, everything was set up to test a finalized version of the playsuit that Charles wore in Lawyer Dummy. She snickered a little as she remembered writing in the caveat that he would have to be the one to test it.

As Crissie admired the new and improved playsuit, of which several were hanging on a clothing rack in a variety of colors, she failed to notice the small stream of purple goo that was crawling across the floor near her feet. With the hose to the filling machine in clutches, Codi lifted a pair of slimy tentacles from the floor, pulled open the back of Crissie’s diaper, and jammed the hose inside.

“WHAT THE-” was all Crissie had time to say before the filling machine roared to life and began pumping oatmeal into the back of her diaper. The sloppy mush quickly filled all the available space it could find, pushing its way between her legs and up into her diaper front before she even had time to react. Bits of slop gushed through the slots in her chastity belt, increasing her sexual frustration. She reached back to grab the hose, hoping to halt Codi’s deviance in its place.

Unfortunately, as soon as Crissie touched the wide tube sticking out of her diaper, Codi rose from the ground fully to stop her, placing her hand on Crissie’s and keeping her from removing the hose. “Ah-ah-ah! I Douba Diapee Dawe chu ta keep da hose in until chu’s diapee espwodes,” she whispered, her soft words sending shivers down Crissie’s spine.

Unable to say anything due to a mixture of steaming humiliation and unabated bliss, Crissie whined like a dog in heat as her shaky hand slowly ungripped the hose. If Crissie kept a list of her most desired fantasies, this would certainly be at the top, and she knew Codi was aware of that. She gazed down at her rapidly expanding diaper, pressing a hand against it to test how much it sunk in. This move only heightened her horniness, nearly causing her to drop to her knees in the process.

“Das right, I knows how much dis turns chu on, Widdwe Sis,” said Codi, fully turning the tables on the infamous Big Sis Criss. The cheeky slime-girl licked her half-formed lips, finding herself undeniably turned on by Crissie’s predicament as well.

Soon, oatmeal began to drip through the leg holes in Crissie’s diaper. Unlike one of CrissBaby’s Super Absorber XXXs, there was a limit to how far the BunnyHopp she was wearing could stretch. As globs of goopy porridge began to pile at her feet, it was only a matter of time before the tapes of her diaper began to loosen.

*SNAP! PLOP!!!*

In one swift action, the two tapes of Crissie’s BunnyHopp diaper ripped open, causing the oatmeal-filled nappy to drop to the ground and splatter outward dramatically. Chunks of sticky grain clung to her chastity belt and dribbled down her legs, making a mess out of both Crissie and the testing chamber. Her lower body quivered with unfettered arousal. Frozen in place, she let out a heavy breath, attempting to come down from her sudden sexual high.

“Hehehe, did chu have fun? Chu did say chu wansed me ta pwank chus,” said Codi, completely twisting Crissie’s earlier statement. Returning her body to her human form, she draped her arms across Crissie’s chest, cuddling her close, “If chus wikes, we can esperiment with somfin a bit gooier in chus next diapee.” She held out one of her hands in front of Crissie’s eyes, changing the tips of her fingers into translucent, purple slime, “I don neesa key ta get passed chus chasity bewt.”

For Crissie, this was everything that she had wanted to hear and more since their game of Double Diaper Dare started. Heck, it was what she’d been dreaming about ever since Halloween. How could she say no to such a tantalizing offer?

*POP!*

Having almost forgotten about the brain-altering gum that Codi was chomping on, Crissie’s expression began to turn sour as she watched Codi’s partially-gooey hand start to lower itself toward Crissie’s princess parts. “W-Wait,” she said, grabbing onto Codi’s wrist just as slimy her fingers were about to make contact with her oatmeal-coated clit. She took a deep breath and lowered her head, “This…isn’t you. I mean, it is you physically…but it’s not…you you. And as much as I want this, and fuck do I really want this, I don’t want to disrespect the real Codi’s wishes. I’m sorry.”

Loosening her arms from around Crissie’s body, Codi backed away, feeling a bit hurt by the rejection but also slightly relieved. In the back of her mind, her silent but still existent mature side knew Crissie was right, even if the forefront of her mind wanted to cry like a spoiled child being told no. The warring factions of her conscious and subconscious spiked her anxiety something fierce, causing her gum chewing to accelerate. “Buh…chus did stuff on Hawwoween! Why’s dis any diffewen?!” she shouted, her panic transitioning into a full-blown tantrum.

“Because neither of us knew what was happening. This isn’t the same thing,” said Crissie starkly, her eyes rising to meet Codi’s. Listening to Codi’s gum-smacking grow louder and more intense, she glanced around the area, spotting a jar of the lisp lollies sitting on Mark’s control panel. She quickly retrieved one and rushed back over to Codi, waving the sucker in the air, “Here, I’ll trade you a lollipop for that stinky piece of gum.”

“Oooooh!” exclaimed Codi, who immediately stuck her fingers into her mouth and pulled out the small wad of gum. She chucked it on the ground before snatching the lolly out of Crissie’s hand and pushing it between her lips with a derpy, satisfied grin. The yummy cherry flavor seemed almost dull in comparison to the gum but that didn’t stop her from humming happily as she lapped at the lollipop.

Picking the piece of gum off the ground, Crissie quickly disposed of it, sighing in relief that Codi no longer had access to its mental regression powers. “There, hopefully, whatever that gum did to you wears off soon,” she said, leaning back against Mark’s console and looking down at the mess Codi made, “What do you think? Should we clean up or let the testing team get in trouble?”

*Rattle!*

Suddenly, the sound of a door being unlocked began to echo throughout the testing chamber. Crissie and Codi shot each other panicked looks. Even regressed, Codi knew this was not good. “W-Wuh sood we do?!” she asked with zero control of her volume, prompting Crissie to shush her.

“We gotta get out of here,” whispered Crissie as she reached down to grab the teleport key from her diaper…or at least she would have if her diaper was still taped to her hips! Dropping to the ground, she frantically started to search through the gallons of scattered oatmeal, “C’mon! Where is it?! Nothing this pink and shiny should be able to hide!”

*Click!*

Out of time, Crissie grabbed Codi by the arm and sprinted into the nearby changing room just as a security guard entered the testing chamber.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Edited by AllySmolShork

Special Thanks to Our CrissBaby Diaper Company Investors: BlossomBitchDolly BlushyBen DD Exminister Gun1242 JFN LittlePissy PrincessKittenLizzi Strawberry Sweetsamantharebecca & One Anonymous Investor

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sleptwithinthesun · 5 months

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my first oc fic!! i'm actually so excited and so nervous to post this :)

this is basically just band au except! not au!! isn't that so cool? i have my own little guys to play with and i hope you love them <3

1.7K words of ✨ plot ✨ and like snz of course but you know me. always an excess amount of plot

(you can also send asks/inquiries about my ocs based on this!! please send asks i fucking love receiving and replying to them!!!!)

Em wakes up to the soft drumming of a headache in her temples, and she groans softly as she cracks open her eyes. Winter mornings in Concord are freezing, as their first two months have taught them, and today is not exception. The sunlight creeping hesitantly through the curtains is thin and watery, barely illuminating the bedroom and washing it in shades of pale gray. It's just enough for Em's tired eyes to pick out the flush that's beginning to dust across her girlfriend's sleeping face, spots of warmth kissing her cheekbones.

In half a second, Em's sitting bolt upright, her legs still tangled in the topsheet and comforter. She gently presses the back of her hand to Luc's forehead and sure enough, she's too warm. Granted, Luc always runs a bit warmer than most people, but her temperature right now is higher than usual. It's only a low-grade fever, which is typical of any virus Luc contracts, but it's a fever nonetheless.

"Oh, honey," she murmurs, tucking a loose strand of wavy hair behind Luc's ear. Slowly, her girlfriend begins to stir, emitting a cute sigh before stretching languidly. She smiles softly at Em upon seeing her.

"Hey," Luc whispers, her voice raspy. "I think I caught your cold."

Em gives a quiet, breathy laugh, mindful of her own faint headache and the lingering pressure in her sinuses. "Yeah?" she asks.

"Pretty sure." Luc rolls onto her back and sniffles, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she nods. "Unless I somehow managed to, like, contract the flu off Sol or something, I definitely caught your cold."

"Sol's not even sick. Neither is Q."

"Oh, so you'll spare them, but not me?" She pouts, shoving herself into a sitting position and fluffing the pillows behind her only to dramatically flop back against them, staring plaintively at Em with big hazel eyes. Her lower lip is even sticking out. Em rolls her eyes fondly at Luc, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

"You're the one who insisted on sleeping with me," she counters, words murmured against the warmth of a fever spot, and her fingers twist into the hem of her sleep shirt as she sits back on her heels. Em doesn't want to say it, just because she knows Luc would complain, but her girlfriend is absolutely gorgeous like this, her body wrapped in an oversized college boyfriend's T-shirt with her legs pulled up to her chest, boyshorts visible in the faltering morning light. "I'm sorry, love, but I think it's your own fault."

Luc sighs loudly, feigning surrender. The playful attempt morphs into a hoarse series of coughs, and Em makes a mental note to send either Q or Sol out to get more cough drops. She places a hand on Luc's shoulder as the fit persists, carefully drawing her girlfriend up further and rubbing her back as she pulls the blankets to her face and coughs harshly into them. Once she recovers, because it's Luc, it's like it never even happened. She just grins, quips, "Well, one of us needed to make the sacrifice," and then winks at Em.

"And you've paid dearly," she deadpans, standing up. "Hold on, Lu, I'm going to make you some tea."

"I'll take an iced coffee, actually," Luc mumbles.

"Yeah, no."

"Worth a shot."

Sol's awake, predictably, when Em walks into the kitchen, and glances up at her entrance. "Morning," she greets cheerfully, already bright-eyed and wide awake. "You feeling any better?"

"Mostly. Definitely an improvement over yesterday." Em walks over to the cabinet where they keep their stash of tea, rummaging through the messy collection of boxes in search of chai for Luc. "I did finally get Luc sick, though."

Sol gives an amused scoff, shaking coffee beans out into the lid of the lid of the grinder before dumping them into the actual grinder. "Yeah, that makes sense. With the way she's been clinging onto you all week, I'm pretty sure she was due for it yesterday."

"Like a fucking limpet," agrees Em, finally locating the chai and setting the bag on the counter. She fills up the kettle with enough water for both her and Sol and places it on the stove, then asks, "You're feeling alright though, yeah?"

"I'm fine," Sol reassure easily. "Focus on yourself. And Luc, obviously." She gives a friendly eye roll, then places the lid on the grinder and presses down. There's a pause in the conversation for her to grind the beans and then to dump the fresh grounds into the french press that Luc had insisted on getting back when the three of them had first moved in together, her, Em, and Sol in a shitty apartment, C4 a dream in their hands and slipping between their fingers like sand. Even now, three years down the line, Em finds it hard to believe that it's actually worked out, that they're finally complete and living in a real house that they bought with money earned from playing shows and that they're all safe and comfortable and making it—

Music is a tough career to pursue, but against the odds, they made it. Soledad, Luciana, Emory, and Quentin, the four of them laced into each other's lives in a way that's so purely impossible for anyone else to understand. Luc and Em are dating, yes, but that doesn't mean either of them care for their other bandmates any less than they do for each other. It's just... a different relationship. Every band's dynamic is unique, and Em is positive that none of them would trade what they have now for anything.

The creaking of the bedroom door breaks her from her thoughts, and Em looks up to see Luc shuffling out, a fuzzy blanket that definitely was not on their bed wrapped around her shoulders.

"Hey, you should be in bed," Em says, frowning as she walks over to her girlfriend.

Without hesitation, Luc presses into her body, her shorter frame allowing her to tuck her head nearly under Em's chin. "I got lonely," she complains, words slightly muffled.

Em can't help but smile down at Luc. She and Sol weren't kidding when they were discussing how clingy Luc is; she'll take advantage of any opportunity to be close to Em, often snuggling up as close as humanly possible. It's an instinct that's completely ingrained in her, evidenced by the fact that Em will literally wake up in the middle of the night with Luc just... lying on top of her. She's affectionate, almost disgustingly so. Em adores it.

"Well," she whispers, swaying slightly, "misery does love company." Luc giggles into her shirt, and Em's heart melts.

"God, would it kill you to get a room?"

"We share a bedroom."

"Yeah, so use it!" teases Sol, grinning at Em. Her gaze drops to Luc, though, and softens with sympathy.

"Come on," Em says, pushing Luc toward the couch. "Sit. Take a sec. I'll bring your tea when it's done."

Luc sniffles, rubbing at her nose. It's already tinged pink at the tip, and she wipes at it roughly with the heel of her palm as she settles. "Thank you, Em. And, uh, I'm... sorry."

"For what?"

"Getting sick."

"Why are you sorry about that?"

"I probably could have avoided it if I tried."

"Luc, I love you, but there's absolutely no way you could've kept yourself away from Em while she was sick," Sol cuts in, smiling gently at their younger bandmate. "You care. That's not a bad thing."

There's a moment where Luc seems like she wants to say something, but her gaze goes glassy, her jaw drops, her breath hitches, and before they know it, she's pitching forward into cupped hands. "hH'ASHhiew!"

"Bless you," says Em, and Sol drops a quiet Jesús, looking up from where she's started pressing down on the filter to the french press. Luc just shakes her head, indicating that she's not quite done yet, and her entire frame shudders with another high-pitched sneeze.

"hah'SHiiew!"

"Bless you again."

"Jesús."

Luc plucks a tissue from the coffee table, blowing her nose into it and sniffling when she's done. "Explain to me again, what's the whole Spanish blessing custom?"

"That's Q's thing." Sol pours herself a mug of coffee, and wordlessly, Em hands her a spoon and the small holder they use for their sugar. Sol accepts them both. "He's Mexican, I'm from Spain. We usually just say Jesús."

"Speaking of, where is Q?" Em asks.

Sol frowns, a pensive look flashing across her face. "I'm not sure, actually. I'd assume in his room." She stands, heading toward the staircase that leads to the second floor, where her and Q's bedrooms are located. "Let me check on him," she tosses over her shoulder.

Luc's tea is going to take five minutes to steep, so Em sets a timer on the microwave and slips into the space between Luc and the arm of the couch. Luc immediately leans into her, and Em wraps an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder through the fabric of the blanket. "You want Tylenol?"

"Please," Luc whispers, quiet and miserable, now that Sol's not here to distract her from just how bad she feels. It's not that Luc actively tries to hide it when she's unwell; it's just that she'll forget the extent of it until she has a moment to herself, and then everything crashes into her at once.

Em moves to stand, but Luc's hand on her wrist stops her instantly. "Don't leave yet?" she asks, and Em sinks back into the cushions.

"C'mere," she murmurs, cherishing the way her girlfriend's body fits into hers when the smaller woman curls in closer. Her fever's rising, Em thinks. She'll have to actually get a read on it later, but for now, she's content to simply hold Luc in her lap and card a hand through her hair. Luc just sighs, breath warm against Em's collarbone, and she melts into her. "I love you, you know that?"

"Mm, yeah. Love you more, though." She can feel Luc's grin as it curves over her skin, and her own lips curl up in response.

(This, she believes, is what true love is.)

She sighs, nuzzles closer, and breathes.

#oc sickfic #sickfic #swts oc #oc group: C4 #oc ship: luciana x emory #oc: soledad gil cabral #oc: luciana cirilli #oc: emory fischer #oc: quentin soto #swts fic

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lttl3babybug · 11 months

Note

Can you write regressor mikey fic?

YEA!! :D

I love Mikey he’s so silly 😋

Family Portrait

Mikey sat at the small kitchen island with his box of crayons out, he was drawing a picture of him and all his brothers. He was very invested in his drawing, occasionally he’d look up at one of his brothers to capture their likeness just right! Or…as right as little Mikey could get it. Once he’d finished with his drawing he proudly presented it to his three brothers, Leo looked over and took the drawing out of Mikey’s hand with a small smile. “Hey look at that” he hummed as he nudged his brother, Donnie looked up from his phone and over at the drawing, he smiled a little and gave Mikey a thumbs up and typed on his phone before a robotic voice came from it saying, “do you want to put it on the fridge?”

Mikey looked very excited by the idea of that, as he scrambled off his chair the small orange pacifier slipped from his mouth. Leo had shown Raph the drawing as Michelangelo stumbled his way over to his brothers, Raph gave Mikey a proud smile as he pointed to the crayon drawing of himself, “I’ve never looked better” he smiled to his brother. Mikey smiled very widely as he heard Raph’s compliments, he hugged his older brother smiling down at his drawing he was so proud of.

“Hmmm…I dunno Raph, I think this is an improvement” Leo said holding up the drawing so the portion of it was covering Raphael. Mikey shook his head, “No! No! Luv Raphie!” I said clinging to his older brother as Leo laughed to himself. He then looked over to Donnie, pulling a pouty face, “what’d you think bro? Who looks better?” He asked. Donnie looked up, rather unamused, he continued to type on his phone. The robotic voice ringing through his brothers ears. “The drawing. I think we should stick it over your face from now on”

As Leo gasped rather loudly Raph grabbed the drawing and picked up Mikey, ignoring the twin’s bickering in the background Raph took Mikey over to the fridge. “Pick a magnet” he said softly. Mikey reached out picking a magnet shaped like a bowl of fruit, Raph put the drawing flat on the fridge as Mikey stuck if on with the magnet. He looked up at Raph and clapped happily to himself as he looked between his older brother and the drawing on the fridge.

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lolasturniolo · 4 months

Text

Grow old with me

Ye this is my first time doing writing. So just like tell me anything I can improve on, anything you like , idk ye

Warnings: Little bit of swearing that basically it

Fluff!

You and Matt have been dating since 15, you are both now 25 with twin boys Jake and Tom age 4.

You are happy with Matt. And he’s happy with you. You live in a big house up the top of a hill surrounded by nothing but trees. A brick house painted white, with black shutters and black tiled roof. Anything you could ever ask for was here.

You are currently sitting on the couch drawing trees and what not, as Matt plays soccer outside with the boys. You hear a ding.

“Shit”

You mutter. You forgot about the stake in the oven.

You quickly get up and speed walk to the kitchen. You scan the room for your oven-mits, but you can’t find them and the stake is slowly burning.

You find them but it was too late by the time you open your oven the stake is practically black.

“Fuck sake.”

You say under your breath, putting the tray down, turning off the oven and going to tell Matt what happened.

“Hey baby.”

He says seeing you walk outside.

He walks up to you as Jake and Tom kick the ball back and forth.

He gives you a kiss on your head and you smile kissing him softly on the lips.

“Ewwww”

You hear a dramatic gag from your son Tom behind you as Jake does the same. You giggle and pull away from matt resting your head on his chest looking at the boys as Matt wraps his arms around your waist.

“Matt?”

You say looking up at him.

“Yes my love?”

He replied looking down at you his hands still on your waist.

“I burnt the stake.”

You say looking down disappointed in your self. By this time the boys went back to playing soccer and are not paying attention to their parents conversation.

“Oh what will I do with you.”

He says giggling letting go of you, and walking back into the house out of your site.

You’re confused by it but 2 minutes later he walks out with his car keys with a smile.

“C’mon boys! last one to the car has to clean the kitchen!”

He says running to the car and your sons run past you eagerly running to the car.

No way you’re cleaning that kitchen again!

“Hey!”

You call out running behind them your in heals no way this was fair!

You end up being the last on in the car.

“I would end up cleaning it anyway”

You say getting in the passenger seat.

“Most likely”

Matt chuckles as he plugging the boys in there car seat in the back. Then gets into the drivers seat with a smile.

“Where are we even going?”

You ask, he didn’t even tell you what was going through his mind about where you were all going.

“Don’t worry about it”

He says with a smug grin on his face. ‘Oh lord’ I say in my head.

———

Matt pulls up outside a familiar looking restaurant.

“No way!”

You gasp, seeing yours and Matt favourite place you used to go when you were young and in love.

“Yes way! c’mon”

You two haven’t been there since you were 18. You didn’t even think it was still standing, but there it was before your eyes, your forever favourite place that holds so much memories.

You get out the car holding Tom and Matt holds Jake.

You walk in it was the exact same from 10 years ago not anything changed. They kept the 90s kinda vibe and kept the same 60s love music playing.

You smile seeing the old dance floor, red booth you and Matt ALWAYS sat in, it was far in the corner so no one really saw you two but it was just by the dance floor. Thankfully no one was sitting there, so you practically run over to sit there.

Same menu, same posters, same lamp shades, same walls everything. You check under one of the posters to see if it’s still there as Matt sits him and the boys down.

There it was Matt+Y/n in a red heart you drew with your lipstick.

You look across at Matt who is now sat in front of you Jake to his left and Tom to your left. The day you write this you didn’t think 8yrs later you would be back, with kids.

There was a small speaker right above your head. And it was currently playing

Be My Baby-By The Ronettes

You tap your foot to the beet, as you help Jake and Tom red the menus to see what they wanted.

You and Matt obviously knew what you wanted the usual, like back when you were 17. Which was a burger with extra cheese.

Once your food arrived you all got a sprite. Tom got chicken nuggets and fries so did Jake.

——

You all got out the booth about to leave, but then you hear a familiar song.

You then hear THE song play. THE song that played when Matt told you he loved you first.

I Want You Back-By Jackson 5

Since that day, this song holds a true memory in your heart.

You take Toms left hand, and Jake’s right hand as you pull your sons to the dance floor.

“When I had you to my self I didn’t want you around”

You sing pointing at your sons, bending down slightly to be at there eye level.

Matt watches from afar.

“Those pretty faces always makes you stand out in the crowd”

You say taping your feet and pointing around the room, as other family’s around the diner join in on the dance floor.

You walk over to Matt pulling him on the dance floor. You had the BIGGEST smile ever as you continue to make more memories.

Matt wraps his arms around your waist spinning you around.

“OH, baby give me one more chanceee”

You sing

“(To show you that I love you)”

Other people around the diner including workers sing some even recording you dance with Matt, Jake and Tom.

———

Once the song finishes you grab your stuff with a big smile plastered on your face. Walking out the diner Tom on your right Jake on your left next to Matt.

When you get into and the boys are all bulked in their car seats, Matt gives you a soft kiss.

He cups your cheeks in his hand as he whispers something only you can hear.

“I love you, grow old with me my love”

He whispers followed by another small kiss and focusing on the road.

You all drive off into the night sky back up the hill to your house.

Forever together.

Forever in love.

—————————

AUTHORS NOTES: YALL! I know the kids literally said 1 thing but it’s not there love story (I also forgot they could speak) ops 🤷🏻‍♀️

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #fluff #family #Spotify

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j0kers-light · 9 months

Note

Hii! If requests are open could I request Heath ledger’s joker with a digital artist s/o? They’re constantly ranting about their OCs and showing him drawings/animations of them, etc?

Hey hi anon 🖤✨

Mad respect to digital artists!! I love you each and every one of you and the work you share with the world!! Keep on keeping on!

As someone who can’t draw a straight line I be envious but I’ll stick to what I love. Which is why you’re here 🤭Let’s get into it!

Joker is used to you bent over your drawing pad, stylus in hand (wrist brace on; carpal tunnel ain’t no joke! I know from experience 👀) that the visual of you is second nature to him when he walks through the door

He knows when you have your headphones on and your tongue is sticking a bit out of your mouth, that it’s drawing time. He leaves you be until you come to him to ask for constructive criticism. J is always honest and tells you things no matter if it hurts

You shove the pad into his face and begin rambling about if the shading is off, are the lines too harsh? What about the anatomy because you HATE drawing (insert) maybe you should focus attention away from that by drawing a secondary figure?

“I could add more to the background or maybe soften the edges? What do you think? Should I just start over?”

Joker knows you’re the toughest critic regarding your own work so he genuinely tells you it’s great. The shading is amazing and he personally likes the outline still visible through your signature style. It makes the whole piece feel more natural that way than full on illustrated (he’d hate for you to be called out for using AI) 🙄🙄 he’d probably kill someone for real for flaming you

He subtly reminds you to add your watermark signature to the artwork in a unique way because you forget to when you critique your work so much.

You are constantly on your drawing pad day in and day out and it’s not the latest tech so… you run into a problem early on: it breaks.

You don’t tell Joker since you’re been saving up for a new one for a while now but…. you’re not quite at your goal. It’s all good, you take a break from drawing and focus on another skill

Rest assured Joker instantly notices you’re not drawing (how dare you; he adores your work!) and goes out and buys steals the most state of the art equipment for his bunny.

I’m talking a rig that the professionals use with all the bells and whistles. It’s already set up at your workstation the following morning and your head over heels thanking Joker with hugs and kisses

Joker fully supports your craft and knows it’s your source of income sooo he uses different accounts to commission you for the most random artwork so you stay getting paid and he helps you draw out of your comfort zone while ultimately improving as an artist

You are none the wiser and people start to notice your work with the endless flow of commissions Joker asks for. He may or may not leave your username/digital card in the most random places across Gotham. It’s free exposure at this point.

Joker doesn’t get tired of listening to lore about your OCs and their world. He knows so much about each character that Frost, Mac, and Neo are fully convinced they’re real people with how much J talks about them.

“OC’s name went viral the other day. I think it’s because of the new uhh, underwater.. ani-mation Y/n made. Very err crisp.”

“Is you talking about Y/n’s drawings?” Mac asked.

“It’s noT just a drAwINg!” Joker quickly defends your work.

Mac’s dumb comment prompted J to threaten ask them to pull out their phone and subscribe to your Pateron account. And it better be the highest tier or risk J’s wrath. He pays them enough to afford a monthly subscription and it’s worth every penny

The four of them spend the rest of the night scrolling through your online portfolio. They oo and ahh over the hard work you created. You are beyond talented.

A low level goon knocked on the door and got their attention but was floored by the illustration shown up on the projector. It looked like a literal masterpiece. It was so detailed and some elements were animated, he asked for the artist’s link.

Joker was forever grateful you used a pseudonym for your work so he had no issues of your identity being compromised by association

Neo provided them your username, lixh0useart on all platforms and told them to get back to work. They did while spreading your work like wildfire amongst the others

That same night you called J screaming in joy to tell him about all the new Paterons and commissions you got! You were on your way to being an artist full time and Joker couldn’t be more proud.

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker x reader #black!fem!reader #ledger joker #joker x y/n #heath joker #the dark knight joker #joker x reader #reader insert #sfw headcanons #digital aritst #joker be so proud of his bunny omg #his lighthouse

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countrymusiclover · 2 years

Text

13 - My Orleans Girl

Part 14

Her Life Means Everything

@mrs-fanfiction-2001 @the-big-bad-klaus

sarahgale98 on Wattpad Bianca Lockwood is her OC in this chapter. She asked me to include her in here if it was possible at all. I hope I did good :)

Madison Beer portrays Bianca

My phone rings earlier on Saturday morning where I rolled over in my bed thinking it must be Damon calling about another plan to hurt the Originals even though I am linked to the brothers. So honestly he should just stop trying. Putting the phone to my ear I yawned hearing a different voice come through the phone. "Hey Mads, what would you say if I was picking you and bringing you to New Orleans for the weekend?"

"I would say you're crazy, Bianca. You're busy with work and you don't have that kind of money to fly out there." I chuckled throwing my head back against the pillows at her crazy idea. She is related to Tyler and decided to become an artist in New Orleans and she's 23 years old.

Her and I became friends when Caroline and I were in middle school. I figured she was going to become an artist because she was always drawing anything in a notebook like all the time. Sitting up on my bed I suddenly heard someone honk outside my window. Pulling the curtain back I gasped seeing her car sitting in our driveway where she waved up at me seeing me still holding my phone up to my ear. "Bianca Lockwood you are literally insane. There's no way I am coming with you."

"Come on, Mads. I even think I found a hot guy for you...plus I have something to tell you." She replied where I groaned changing into some clothes for the day heading out the front door immediately rushing to her waiting arms. She picked me up on the ground twirling me around for a few seconds then sitting me back on my feet. We hold onto each other until she flashed a golden color over her eyes that I recognized from Klaus. "I found this guy who helped me stop having to lock myself up everytime there was a full moon."

Tucking hair behind my ear I gasped finally realizing that she was a werewolf like her brother. It finally made sense since her first boyfriend got killed in a car accident and that's how she became a wolf. "So you're a hybrid now. I know who turned you-" She cuts me off and puts me into the car where we made the drive to the famous city.

Stepping out of her car I watched her draw out her phone answering somebody who had called her. "Hi Marcel, you don't have to worry I just ran to Mystic Falls to pick up a friend. You'll like her. She's Human though so no drinking from her understand." She hung up grabbing my hand were we started walking down bourbon street. She even compelled someone so we could have some drinks where I drank a margarita in my hands.

"So Bianca who exactly is this hot man you claim to have found for me hmm?" I teased her feeling a little bit of a buzz and a burning in my chest from the new taste.

Bianca clasps her hands together in front of her as we now sit at a table outside one of the bars. I could hear loud music being played around the corner and some people were dancing outside some of the other places near us at the moment. I immediately think of Kol and how he said we danced good together. "Well he has dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Oh and an accent you know like-"

"Hello love." I felt my cheeks turn red recognizing the voice that followed in unison with Bianca that could only belong to the one and only original hybrid.

His foosteps stopped right behind my chair where I spun around smiling up at him before he mirrors the same look on his face. "Klaus, what are - how are you here?" Raising a brow at him I had to wonder if the soulmate bond was stronger than we knew. That he could find my exact location without a witch now.

"This is my favorite city, Maddie. I enjoy all the music, art, culture. Although now it's improved that you're here." He smirked leaning down capturing his lip with mine. Lightly gripping the collar of his jacket I kissed him back feeling him whispering in my ear. "Be careful in this place. Vampires rule this place. If anything goes wrong just call out my name."

Nodding my head he vamped off into a random direction leaving me alone with Bianca. Once we finish our drinks the moon was rising in the sky. She intertwined my hand with hers where we started dancing around in a crowd full of people but I could feel someone watching the two of us. Throwing my hair around I tripped falling into the arms of a black guy who chuckled holding me off the ground. "If you're not careful you'll dance till you drop, doll."

"Thanks for the save. I guess I am clumsy on my feet sometimes." I smile standing on my feet now where Bianca throws her arms around my shoulders.

"Hi baby, this is the Mystic Falls girl. Maddie Forbes." Sticking my hand out we shake hands.

The man smiled showing me his fangs clearly not afraid to show what he was. "It's nice to meet you, Maddie. I'm Marcel, Marcel Gerard. Welcome to my city."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tell me what should happen next please

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