Tumgik
#but i'm glad you enjoy the writing anon
not-poignant · 2 years
Note
Would you ever try your hand at self publishing m/m romance/erotica as, like, a career on the side? Your stories are amazing and the self published mm authors I've found are doing pretty well on amazon even though they don't write as well as you.
Would you ever consider self publishing an original series in ebook form? I've read (and loved) the perth shifter series but they could sorta be read as standalones. I'm thinking of a story that ends on a cliffhanger until the next book comes out 😆
Hi anon!
I'm thinking of a story that ends on a cliffhanger until the next book comes out
Unfortunately, this is one of the most hated things you can do in publishing romance, lol. Even worse than first person perspective (which I don't hate, but a lot of readers do). And it breaks with the most fundamental rule of romance which is ending stories with a HFN (hopefully for now) or HEA (happily ever after).
And while I write fantasy romance, and dystopian romance, and science fiction romance, it's all still romance. I don't mind cliffhangers on individual chapters, but cliffhangers in a series in the romance genre is very very bad etiquette and it's Not Done (TM). It's more appropriate in horror/thriller/science fiction series etc. that don't have a strong romance basis to them (and a lot of readers still hate them and refuse to read them!), where you're not primarily rooting for two characters to get together in a relationship and that's what I write!
Even romance series that only focus on two characters across multiple books, will give each book a HFN (hopeful for now / happy for now) ending, instead of a cliffhanger. Each book is still resolved, and the idea is you can read them on their own, that's kind of the point!
My published books already do very badly financially compared to my serials, so I'm not about to like... break one of the most fundamental rules of all romance publishing just to end a book on a cliffhanger, I have my serials for that. :D (And even they have happy/hopeful endings).
And like you said - I have published m/m romance/erotica on the side. It won't ever be a career for me, because it doesn't pay as much as the original serials do. My work is too niche, people don't want to read m/m romance with as much trauma recovery as I write, or asexual characters etc (I make more from a single month of Patreon - even during a bad Patreon month - than I have from the entire 2 years that The Gentle Wolf has been out). And I like noncon BDSM and that's straight up against Apple's and Amazon's TOS, so things like Fae Tales are against the rules there anyway. But my published works earn me about $200 USD a year, which is not nothing, but it's also...not great. I don't think the answer is breaking even more romance rules though x.x
I'm glad you enjoy my writing anon! But a lot of folks who read published m/m actually don't love my (published) writing, so it's serials for me, because that seems to do a lot better. :D Besides, people can download all my original serials as ebooks for their ereaders whenever they want, so they can read my stuff like an ebook whenever they feel like.
10 notes · View notes
Note
Hiya, I was reading your "how txt would sound in bed" post and was wondering if you could do the same for Stray kids :)
Your writing is amazing, thank you so much💙✌️
starting off with channie, he's not too loud i don't think.
he is very breathy and kinda more on the throaty side. that's just when he's trying to be quiet though, when you're in his studio and the boys are in the next room or and your hand just feels so good moving up and down his sensitive cock, he feels like he's losing his mind.
he isn't too much louder when you're alone but i do feel like he would be so much more whiny and when he's not whining, he's moaning and he moans with his accent and dear lord.
lixie's moans would be so pretty, so deep and rich omg. just like his deep voice normally, his moans would be the exact same.
but also in my heart and soul i think that if he got into it (if you played with his nipples), his voice would get several octaves higher.
he'd keen and mewl a lot, getting so much more vocal when he's about to cum, whining high and cute.
he'll be going red when you point it out, fucking hell imagine him with sweater paws, getting fucked out of his mind but you saying his moans are the cute is the most embarrassing thing in this moment and he just covers his face with the sweater paws with a cute little 'stoooop'.
honestly, hyunjin took me a little while because i couldn't figure it out. after some contemplation though i've come to a conclusion,
he'd be kinda a middle range in volume, not too loud or too quiet, but that changes depending on the situation.
he really is a performer and that doesn't change in bed at all. even if he's getting railed so hard he's seeing stars he still keeps note of exactly what sets you off.
exactly which noises he makes seem to illicit that hungry look in your eye. he changes based on what you like, plays with you by using it against you. whether you like him quieter or louder (you better like him louder or i don't trust you) he notices and then it's just a game to see how long it is until he starts making them in a non-sexual way in your normal life, waiting for the moment you'll snap and fuck him against the kitchen counter.
now my sweet little brat lee know would grunt and groan a lot pretty quietly because he doesn't want to moan and let you know how good he feels.
when he gets really close though or falls into subspace, he just gets so completely overwhelmed with pleasure that he really can't care anymore, utterly debauched sounds falling from those puffy lips, all swollen from how much he's bitten them. super loud and super ruined, any and every curse under the sun gasped or whined out.
it's really adorable to see him going from somewhat composed, but clearly trying his best to stay that way and then just melt away with the pleasure, dissolving into a mess, a slave to the sensations that you give him<33
the cute little puppy seungmin, he pants a lot, whimpers a bit, akin to a puppy-
but he isn't that loud in general, he'll have to place his mouth right by your ear for you to hear his tiny mewls and whispers for more, honestly it's pretty perfect for when you're pegging him in mating press or missionary, and his face is buried into your neck
he'll happily make himself a bit louder just for you but only if you ask him nicely-and only if puppy gets a reward
my little perv jisung, babygirl's a shrieker for sureee, gasping, moaning, screaming, losing the very concept of composure, thoughts a jumbled mess just because of how good you make him feel.
gives zero fucks for anyone else around-i've said it a million times and i'll say it again, there is not a single ounce of concern for common decency when he moans out loudly from the vibrating plug up his ass in a public area.
dirty talker 10000%, learned it all from the absolutely sinful-*sigh*, just check his browser search history. baby's got a mouth on him and will not shut up unless you gag him.
he also definitely gets upset when you tell him that he has to be quiet, pouting and maybe even shedding a tear, asking why you don't wanna hear his noises.
binnie, he would sound so cuteee-
it really depends where you are because he's really shy and if you're anywhere that people would possibly walk in on you (gym locker room) it's gonna be heavy breathing and the tiniest n e e d i e s t little 'please' e v e r
and he isn't that loud to begin with but when you're in private, just the two of you, looking up at you with the sweetest cutest doe eyes in the world,
then he really feels like he can lose himself into all of the sensations, he loses it real quick tbh just of how sensitive he is and can hardly bring himself to be quiet.
and lastly, with innie, poor baby just gets so overwhelmed and so flustered, he'll try to cover his face and muffle his moans until you pull his hands away (or tie them over his head). even then though he won't let you really hear him, biting his lip or swallowing the moan crawling up his throat
he'll try to bury his face into your skin, trying to distract himself, take his mind off of how good he feels while marking you all up,
when he finally does let you hear him though-it really should be a crime that he didn't let you sooner, absolutely heavenly, absolutely sinful, wholly and utterly delectable. soft whimpers and full moans, ughhhh.
2K notes · View notes
thedarkcircuswritings · 4 months
Note
Holy shit I have been seeing your account all day and you work so fast and so good. So I finally6jad the courage to make a request.
I think I have seen this trope around, but I also want to see your take on the idea:
✨✨✨ Shadow milk x reader that knows how to dance ✨✨✨
like, maybe a ballet dancer specifically if possible? The whole theater and jester aesthetic would be really interesting to see mixed with that :3
Tumblr media
Shadow Milk rested his hands on your posing form, a smile on his face as he cooed at you. "How graceful, like a swan! Beautiful, like a peacock! Delectable, made from the sweetest ingredients around... Yes, you are perfect for me, aren't you?" He carefully helped to spin you around, moving his hand up to hold yours in the air as he began to walk around you, keeping his gaze locked with yours. "You know, when I laid my eyes on you for the first time, I knew you'd be perfect for my shows... I am always one to have a key eye for great entertainers, and you? Uehehehe, you've certainly struck yourself into the spotlight I set for you!" Shadow Milk then stopped, allowing the strings on your body to continue to spin you around on your platform, just like a music box. He grinned at his own creation, and how your beauty made it all the better. "Yes... Please continue to dance for me, my cygnet!"
91 notes · View notes
shhh-secret-time · 17 days
Note
Hi lovey! I would never pass up an opportunity to request something from you, you are litro my fav writer on here ^_^ Obsessed with the way you perfectly capture the love in your polyam stuff, can we get Style x fem reader with some fluffy and soft lovemaking👀 Aaaa I’d just die for that!
Lots of love from a loyal reader, take care of yourself 💘✨
Me? Me am favorite? Why?! You bless me with the sweet words. I hope I continue to serve.
Also happy Kyle Week guys! We stan a silly man in love! I had a blast writing this one!
Warning: NSFW, Strong Language, F/M/M, Threesome, Pillow violence.
Pairings: Stan x Fem!Reader x Kyle
Tumblr media
It's the pressure on his chest that stirs him. At first it was gentle, almost comforting in a way, but now it's too much. Every time he takes a breath it's strained. Kyle doesn't need to open his eyes to know what the source of his discomfort is, he already knows.
Stanley Marsh was a cuddler. It wasn't a secret the man was the most touch starved human being in South Park, but some imaginary pride kept him from acting on it in public. Behind closed doors the man had to be touching Kyle constantly, especially if it was bedtime.
"Dude you can't break the nighttime routine. Hurry up and get your ass in this bed. I'm tired!"
"Then go to bed Stan! Just because you don't care about your skin's health doesn't mean I have to neglect mine!"
It would be one thing if it was just Stan, unfortunately he wasn't alone. You were just as bad, if not worse. Kyle couldn't recall any moment in his shared relationship with you and Stan if you were ever warm. Not a day went by that you didn't complain about being cold.
"Kyle, sweetheart, love of my life, sun in my sky, light of my-"
"Yes, you can use my hoodie and my sweatpants."
A part of him feels bad; because as he cracks open his eyes, letting that early morning light hit the greens of his eyes, you both look so peaceful on his chest. Nothing in this world ever makes him feel so at peace than when he catches his lovers cuddles up against him. Stan tucked into his side; face nuzzled into the crook of neck with a heavy arm wrapped around his chest. You under that arm, slotted between his legs with your head resting just below his heart.
No, he can't think of anything more perfect. One of the many perks of being an early riser. He'd never tell either of you how he lies here for the first ten minutes of his day just admiring your sleeping forms. The way your hair clung to your face or how you would mumble under your breath, letting him know what kind of dreams you were having. Or how Stan's lips would curl up into a smile when he placed a kiss on his forehead. It was adorable that he could give him a dorky smile in his sleep, even with that trail of drool rolling down the side of his chin.
Kyle could deal with the sore arm and crushed lungs, not even the sweat bothered him. But the one thing Kyle couldn't stand being was being late, he couldn't stand it when his schedule was thrown off. If the shrill screaming alarm went off, it meant it was time to get up. Time to start his day and get work done so he can come home to the both of you as quickly as possible. Do the work, get the reward. That anxiety of keeping anyone waiting for him or being late for something was too strong to ignore.
So, what was he to do when his alarm went off and his two partners wouldn't move. Normally the alarm at least stirred you off him, made Stan roll over and give him room to get up. Something about this chilly Thursday morning kept you both glued to your spots. If anything, Kyle thinks he felt Stan's muscles twitch and his arm slide down towards his waist, tightening his hold on him. Your smaller frame moving closer to the source of warmth, sliding your cold little hands under his shirt. He couldn't tell if you were secretly awake and punishing him for even thinking about moving, or if you were just innocently still asleep. Either way that damn alarm wouldn't stop screaming.
With a huff, he moves his free arm across your body and makes a grab for the phone. Stan's eye, the one not buried in the crook of his neck, cracks open and he swats Kyle's hand. Sleep still trapped in his eyes, Stan fumbles with the device making it stop its cry for attention. He misses the glare Kyle shoots his way.
"Stop movin'." Stan's grumbled words make it sound like he's not asking, but Kyle wasn't having it.
"You know I need to get up. Now come on, let me get up." Kyle goes to move you off his chest and into Stan's arms. He figures you both can keep each other warm and comfortable so he can get up to start his day.
"Stop moving..." You whine in response to him trying to get up. He lets out the softest grunt when you push on his chest.
His brows furrow when he's pushed back down onto the bed. Kyle's back hits the plush of the bed making the headboard knock against the wall. If this kind of behavior was done on the weekend, he would have found it kind of adorable that you're both being so whiney. It did make Kyle feel loved that he was wanted, but being loved doesn't pay the bills or excuse irresponsibility.
So, he tries again, moves his arm out from under Stan and wraps it around you. In your sleepy haze you think he's going to give you a hug and give into the snuggling. You should have known better, should have remembered that Kyle was a stubborn man. Kyle twists his body in Stan's hold and uses you as a shield. Moving you into the arms of the raven-haired man, which Stan almost falls for. It's instinct at this point for Stan to hold you.
As much as he clings to Kyle, Stan clings to you. He loves picking you up and taking you away from whatever you're working on for cuddles. You don't fight him nearly as much as Kyle does and you get his warmth, it's a win-win. You huff in response, how dare that man use you and Stan's weakness against you.
"Kyle...noooo! Come back to bed." Your hands fly out to grab at his pajama shirt, tugging on the material.
"Don't give me that. I already told Stan I need to get up, you heard my alarm I know you did." The scolding in Kyle's tone dies when he sees how sweet you look. Even Stan looks adorable with his messy hair and baby blue eyes.
How dare you use his weakness for puppy dog eyes against him. The only defense he can think of is to turn his head and twist his body away from cute kryptonite. Turning his back on you proved to be his downfall. As soon as he did Stan's arm was around his waist, pulling him back against him again. You slipped around his body as if this was a coordinated attack. You moved your hands up his chest and locked them lazily around his neck.
"You're both horrible! God damn it Stan let me go! And you-" Kyle's protests come with a healthy scowl, one he's sure you're not taking seriously. "-you stop helping him!"
"Just five more minutes, please!" You whisper pleading, almost begging.
He knows better. Kyle knows better than to say yes because it won't be five minutes. It'll turn into ten, and that ten will turn to twenty. He'll be trapped here until Stan's alarm goes off, where he'll lay there watching him hit snooze three times. By then he'll have hit the fourth and Kyle will be late for work.
"No. I warned you both last night not to stay up and watch Castlevania." Despite his complaints, Kyle finds his body starting to melt back into the bed. His muscles don't tense as they should. His hands don't pry you away from him and instead find home on your hips. He even lets Stan intertwine his legs with his.
"Hmm, you're just grumpy Stan and I watched it without you." You hum in response, pressing a soft kiss on one of the stray freckles on his neck.
"Hm." Stan doesn't seem to register the conversation you're having, just grunting to tell you he's still awake. And that he really doesn't want to be.
"I'm not upset that you- wait you watched it all?"
".... No?" You muffle your lie in his skin, trying to hide the growing smile creeping across your face.
"You little shit!" He goes to bite down on your neck, squirming out of Stan's hold just enough to pin your wrists back by your head.
Squeals and kicks aren't enough to get him to stop. He rolls you over until you’re flat on your back, being late for work is a distant thought. Not when you just ratted yourself and Stan out. A betrayal like this can't go unpunished. Try as you might, you can't fight back Kyle's light-hearted wrath. His hands are up and under your shirt before you can blink, squeezing and tickling the sides of your stomach.
"Stan! Stan, help meeee! He did it too! Get him!" One minute you're begging to be saved, the next you're trying to drag him down with you. Gasping loudly as you try to catch your breath in between giggles.
Stan grumbles something now more awake since all that kicking, you're doing landed his way. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before registering what you just said. A little smirk playing on his lips and instead of coming to your aid, he props himself up on his elbow.
"He'll get his! Don't you worry!" Stan's smirk drops. Kyle cuts him off like he knows Stan was about to protest. "Stanley Marsh don't you even try and get out of this!"
Luckily for you Kyle's assault stops long enough for you to scramble away and catch your breath. Your heels dig into the bed, hands fumbling the pillow beside you. Anything to keep distance between Kyle and your sore sides. You watch as Stan sits up, giving Kyle a loving look. Slowly a hand cups Kyle's hips, soft digits rubbing circles in a way that allows him to dip them past the band of Kyle's sweatpants. The Marsh Charm™ is in full effect.
"Kyle...dude look we can watch it again. And we'll get all the satisfaction of watching your cute face react to the stuff we already know." Stan lets his voice dip low, sweet whispers against the shell of his ear.
"Yeah? To the stuff you already know?" Kyle leans into his touch, lips getting closer towards Stan's. He's close enough that Stan's eyelids lower down, breath ghosting across his partner's lips.
"Hm-m."
The poor fool. You almost feel bad for Stan. The Marsh Charm™ is but a candle to the roaring fire that is the Broflovski Wrath™. As soon as Kyle brushes his lips across Stan's lips, and the man's shoulders drop, a pillow is swung hard against the side of his head. Out of left field a flash of blue and white stripes slam into the side of Stan's head. Hovering over him in triumph, Kyle continues his attack. Stan's arms come up to defend his face from the memory foam, each wack making a thump against his head.
"I.don't.want.your.shitty.excuses!" Each word comes with a healthy swing. Kyle was on a warpath now. Denied the right to get up and get his morning coffee. Denied the right to a warm shower to wash the sleep out of his eyes. Denied the right to whatever else his morning routine demanded. And now he was denied any happiness that would have come with watching a silly Netflix animated series with the loves of his life.
Once he's decided Stan's had enough, he falls back onto the bed and sighs. He didn't need to look at his phone, there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to be late. So, he tosses the pillow onto Stan's face, who had just let his guard down again, and curls up next to you. Right back in the middle where you both had him moments ago.
"Fine. You win. The both of you are terrible, awful influences and when I get fired, you'll have no one to blame but yourselves." You and Stan both know that would never happen. The company Kyle worked for needed him badly, and he almost never called out of work.
When he closes his eyes, he expects the both of you to return to your spots. Reaping the sweet reward of a few more minutes of shut eye, basking in the warmth of his body like you always do. And in a way, you do. You and Stan take your positions against him, with you pressed up against his chest and Stan against his back.
Only you don't rest your head on his chest, instead he feels your hands playing with the metal snap buttons on his shirt. He feels Stan's hands playing with the hem of his pants again, hooking a thumb in the band of the sweats. Stan tugs him back against him just as your fingers pop a button open. The little snap makes his eyes shoot open.
"Someone's grumpy~"
"Are you mad at us baby?"
That purr in your voice and that little laugh that comes from Stan tells him that neither of you had any plans of going back to sleep. Kyle feels Stan's nails dig into his hips and can't help but groan a little at the pain. Those pretty sounds from his lips make Stan's cock jump up at attention, the borrowed basketball shorts do little to hide his growing arousal. Chapped lips trail down Kyle's neck, brushing up against the pulse point on his throat. Kyle's head lulls back expecting Stan to bite down, but all it does is open him up for Stan's lips to continue exploring.
He's so wrapped up in the way Stan makes him feel that he barely registers it when you push his shirt down. The shirt folds and slides down towards his elbows where you leave it. Your lips almost meet Stan's at the same point on his body, right on his shoulder where more freckles cover his skin. When your lips brush against Stan's you let out the sweetest laugh, one Kyle can feel make his heart speed up.
"Was here first~" Stan smirks down at you, nipping at your bottom lip. "I left his neck for you."
You giggle again and push your lips up against his as if to silence him with a kiss. You weave a response in between kisses. "You're the biter Stan, you take his neck."
"Don't talk like I'm- ah!" Kyle yelps when your teeth sink into his chest, right below his collarbone. It cuts his complaints short and turns it into a loud moan.
It's Stan's turn to laugh, a hint of pride in that deep sound. His thumb brushes over the bright red mark left behind, admiring it with a grin. He presses his lips back onto Kyle's skin right at the junction of his neck and shoulder.
"F..Fucking Christ you two. What happened to five more minutes?" Kyle gasps at the warmth left behind Stan's tongue.
"Stan and I had other ideas! You seemed so upset that we did something without you." As sweet as you sounded, the way your nails scraped down his chest and stomach made Kyle groan. "Now we're doing something with you. Isn't this better Ky?"
He wants to respond with a snarky comment, to gain some sense of control over the situation, but his head is spinning. He should be used to this by now, how you and Stan make him feel. But every kiss and hot breath that ghosts his skin makes his heart flutter, it makes him fall that much deeper in love. Especially when he hears praise after praise falls from your lips.
"So pretty."
Was he really? Kyle looked at himself in the mirror that was connected to your dresser. His face was flushed, and his hair was a mess.
"Love those sounds Ky."
His moans? Or the whimpers? Both? He couldn't stop them if he tried.
"Keep you rockin' your hips like that fuck you feel so good."
Just a little friction, something to help relieve his throbbing cock. Something to help Stan's that pushed him forward, forcing his cock to grind against the thin material of your underwear.
"Let’s get this off you."
The desperate whine that escapes his lips turns into a gasp when Stan pushes his sweats down. Your hands follow close behind pushing down his boxers leaving him in nothing but that sleep shirt still draped on his arms. Stan moves his hands off his hips for a moment, he feels the man shift behind him and soon the rustling of clothes close behind. But a second later he feels Stan's arousal against his.
His cock slides up between his legs pressing up against his. Kyle bites his bottom lip as he reaches down to grasp both members in his hand. Deft fingers wrap around them and begin pumping slowly, creating delicious friction. When Stan moans lowly and jerks his hips, it encourages him to go faster. Pre-cum being smeared in-between his hand and their shafts. It was messy but it made him feel so good, so good he didn't want to stop. He could feel that pressure building, pleasure rocking in his stomach in time with Stan's clumsy thrusts. He tightens his hand, squeezing the tips just as his hand comes back up.
It wasn't until he felt Stan's desperate hands grab at his wrist that he realized just how close he was. The hot pleasure that he was building up simmered down to a low heat. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his chest and down his arms. When he looked down at you, you seemed to be enjoying the show.
Your fingers were dancing up and down his stomach, causing the skin to flex in response. He watched as they traced up towards Stan's arms and up back behind Kyle's head.
"We have all morning now Ky. Relax~ let's take it slow." Stan purred in his ear, low and soft. He felt his face burry into the crook of his neck again.
Kyle closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Still, that didn't stop him from seeking out something to help his aching cock. He pulls you closer towards his frame, feeling your thighs instinctively spreading enough to where he can slot himself between. A moan escapes you as he slips his fingers down the hem of your underwear. He slips his fingers past the band, immediately seeking out your wetness. Kyle coats his fingers before placing them straight along your clit.
Your hips start to move in sync with his fingers. Grinding against the calloused fingertips, trying to create more friction. The angel of his hand and the fact that you were the only one still dressed made that difficult.
"Help me take this off."
You sound so desperate, how could he not? Hurriedly he removes his fingers from your cunt to assist you in removing what clothes you still had on. As soon as they were thrown off to the side, creating some pile in the corner of your shared bedroom, his fingers were back on you.
The only time his fingers stop their assault is when he feels your body tense. They sneak down, drenching in slick, he pushes them inside of you. Pulling his fingers out of you just enough to where he can slide them back inside. He creates a repetitive motion, curling his fingers against the sweet spot of your walls.
Stan watches from behind him with a humming approval. His own hand reaches out and grips your chin, bringing you closer. Your lips lock together for a brief moment. Gentle soft kisses that come with a warm smile. Your bodies pressed firmly against Kyle.
Stan gives you one last lazy peck on the lips before he moves his hand back down to Kyle's thigh. He nudges his legs open just enough to slip his hard cock up against his backside. There's a moment where he pulls away but it's only a breath. He twists his body back with a small blue bottle of clear gel.
Seconds later he repositions himself behind Kyle. It's like every moan you let out only encourages him. After putting a healthy amount of lube on his cock, Stan aligns himself back up against him. He takes the time to lather the cold gel onto his hole before gently pushing himself in. Kyle slightly winces in response, his body tensing but as he focuses on fingers on you, he relaxes.
"That's it Ky. Relax. I'm gonna make you feel so good." His sweet words coax him. Kyle can only bite his lip and nod.
At the same time, you pull his hand out of your soaked cunt. His fingers coated in your arousal. You smile up at him when his eyes fly down to you. He's worried for a moment, but that look of love and admiration in your eyes makes him relax.
Not wanting you to go far from him, Kyle wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back against him. He copies Stan's movements and lifts your thigh, tossing your leg over his hip where Stan takes your ankle.
His hand going down to spread your lips where he eagerly guides his tip inside, you both sigh a relieving sigh at the feeling of it. A deep groan sounded from him and Stan both, once he's fully sheathed inside you. Stan rocks his hips forward, pushing in and out carefully. He tries to keep things slow, concentrating on pleasuring you just as much as Stan's giving him.
But the minute he rocks into you, being carried by Stan's momentum, he's commenting on his own desire. "More. Please, hurry up."
You roll your hips in response, hands flying out to be tangled up in his hair. There's that silent conversation that goes on between you and Stan again, one that he can't follow because of how much of a daze he's in. Stan presses a kiss on his cheek, you press one on his chest.
"Anything for you baby." It's the way your voice dips into a sultry purr and the way Stan's hands grab hips. "Like when you beg."
Kyle's seeing stars.
The delicious sounds and desperate use of his name almost sends him overboard. Stan's grip tightens and he picks up his movements, fucking him at a steady pace. Every time Stan drives his cock into him, it pushes his own further into you. Tight walls wrapped around his dick perfectly, like it was made for him.
Your walls stretch and pull him. Accommodating for the thick size, each thrust reaching further inside. Kyle nudges every sweet spot he can to pull more moans from you. The sound of wet skin on skin filled the room. A perfect rhythm and dance created.
It isn't until his name comes out in a choked cry that he knows how close you are. He hits a particular spot that had your vision turning white. That feeling of hot pressure shoots up through your body and down to your feet, you arch your back determined to have him repeat the action. "Th-there! Right there again! Please!"
Drawn-out moans escape his throat encouraging Stan to go faster and him to thrust harder. Your arms wrap around his neck bringing him down for another kiss. Stan's gaze makes it all the hotter, as he patiently waits for his turn. Once you break for air, Kyle doesn't get that luxury because Stan's mouth his on his before he can breathe. Each kiss makes him feel more and more loved.
Kyle has to break the kiss to breathe. To catch his breath and stop the room from spinning. The lack of air leads to the growing pressure building up in his stomach again. He's so close, he can feel his stomach tighten. That familiar warmth pooling at his stomach. He knew Stan was close from the way his hips were beginning to lose their steady rhythm. He wants to hold out. Find a way to cum together, he's not sure why he wants that so badly, but he does.
In seconds of wishful thinking, he feels your body start to tense. Your orgasm building higher and higher, walls constricting around his cock. Kyle watches your eyes flutter shut as a high-pitched whine escapes your lips.
"Close- 'm so close! Gonna cum!"
"Fu-fuck!"
Then like a band stretched too far. He snaps. Kyle lets his climax take over, spilling his load inside of you. The sight alone makes Stan follow shortly after. With a final thrust he buries himself deep inside of him, tightening his arms as he does. Between his blunt nails digging into your thighs and the lazy thrusts, you follow shortly after.
Kyle's heart was racing so loudly it was all he could hear past the soft panting. The out of breath chest heaving up and down in time with one another. He's never felt more connected to anyone before. Through his glossy vision he watches as you're the first to move, slipping off his softening cock. Stan follows behind pulling out of him slowly. Why was his body so spent? He felt so exhausted at that moment.
Your gentle hands move to help clean him, and Stan lifts him up enough to where he's back on his pillows. They've never felt so soft in that moment. He lets his eyes close, and he feels the weight of it all.
"Mm... give… give me a minute and I'll get up." Kyle mumbles in the fluff of the pillows.
"Okay baby. Stan and I are gonna make breakfast. That sound good?"
He doesn't respond. Even his mouth feels too heavy to talk. He just nods and decides to give himself five more minutes. Then he'll get up, grab a cup of coffee, and start his day.
80 notes · View notes
yuesya · 10 months
Note
Twin AU is watering my crops and clearing my skin ngl. Could we maybe see the moment of realization for Satoru (and maybe Shiki) about her situation as a cursed spirit? Because there’s probably a period of time when they both were effective toddlers that Shiki wasn’t yet hosted inside Satoru yet right? Or what is the development of personhood like what you effectively don’t have your own body? And how did they discover that Shiki was Satoru’s murdered twin?
Satoru had always known that he wasn't alone.
... There's no grand moment of dawning comprehension leading up to this realization, or anything of the sort. He just... knew. It's kind of hard to explain. Sort of like how a person knows how to breathe without ever actually learning how to breathe? Except this is something that's entirely beyond simple bodily instinct. It's really hard to describe using words.
Satoru had always known that Shiki was there with him, long before he ever knew who Shiki even was.
Every day when he wakes up in the mornings in his too-large room, he'll touch his hand to the ground at his side Good morning. His shadow promptly reaches back to him, cheerfully answering him in greeting.
When Satoru is on the verge of dozing off during one of his elder's droning lectures, his shadow insistently nudges him beneath his legs, keeping him just awake enough to prevent him from toppling over and making a fool out of himself. Or, even worse, earning himself an hour-long reprimand from an displeased elder over the lack of decorum.
Sometimes, when Satoru is alone, he'll purposely make silly shapes with his body. And laugh, when his shadow doesn't copy them properly. Then he'll stomp his feet in frustration, when his shadow smugly gets back at him by contorting itself into shapes that are impossible for a human body to mimic in turn, the cheater!
... It takes an embarrassingly long time before Satoru realizes that your shadow isn't actually supposed to play games with you.
It's not a realization that occurs all at once. It's something that creeps up on them as Satoru dives deeper into his lessons as a sorcerer, when they learn more about jujutsu together.
"Are you a cursed spirit?" Satoru finally asks one evening. His shadow wiggles in a 'dunno, probably?' sort of gesture. "Y'know, you're pretty harmless, for a cursed spirit."
His shadow crosses its harms huffily; Satoru grins.
"Aw, don't be like that, you know what I meant." Cursed spirits are amalgamations of evil and hatred, and must be exorcised for the sake of peace and order. Or so their teachers kept saying. "How did you even get here, anyways? And why me?"
Another wiggle.
But it's a valid question -with all the layers of seals and protections slapped over the Gojo Compound, it's impossible for any cursed spirits to slip through the cracks unnoticed. And yet the cursed spirit living in his shadow has clearly done just that. His Six Eyes informs him that the cursed spirit's energies blends perfectly with his own, which adds another layer of oddity to the mystery.
Everyone's cursed energy signature is different; families are similar, but not even siblings share the exact same signature. Was this a cursed spirit born of Satoru's own overwhelming cursed energy, somehow?
... Logic says that it's plausible, but his intuition tells him otherwise.
Satoru doesn't put together the pieces until his younger cousins are born. A pair of twins, a dark-haired boy and a dark-haired girl, sleeping together on the same cot. The way that their cursed energies intermingle next to each other is exactly the same as Satoru and-
...
... Midori-oba looks scared, instead of happy. Why?
"Cursed twins," his aunt whispers, trembling. "An ill omen, oh no... My husband is furious with me. Hina-neechan gave birth to you, while I- I-"
Satoru tunes out his aunt's incoherent ramblings, and instead focuses on cursed twins.
An ill omen, cursed twins. For twins begin as one singular entity in their mother's womb, and despite coming into this world as two individual bodies, they are still One. Each is only a mere Half of their Self, an empty shadow and pale imitation of what they could've been. Neither twin will ever reach their full potential, unless preventative measures are taken.
Satoru frowns. He doesn't like the sound of these 'preventative measures,' because if the implications are true, and knowing what the elders are like...
Six Eyes. Limitless. The Honored One.
What if the honored one was born with a cursed twin? ... What would the Gojo Clan do?
But did Satoru really have a twin? There's no trace of it -his father had told him about his late mother before while reminiscing, but he's never mentioned a twin sibling. Discretely poking around among the servants also reveals several glaring vacancies (sudden deaths) for those who'd been present during Satoru's own birth, which is not a great vote of confidence.
"... Are you really my twin?" His blood feels cold, a chill that runs down to his bones. Did he have another sibling? Did the clan kill his twin?
His shadow wobbles sluggishly. Satoru bites his lip, concerned.
Despite their innate compatibility with each other, the only way a spirit can truly dwell within a person's shadow was if the person in question was a Ten Shadows user. The bindings holding them together are fraying, growing weaker by the day -Satoru doesn't know how to keep his sibling with him!
And if it breaks- The Gojo Clan-
I won't let that happen.
Satoru's eyes narrow, determined. "I won't let you die again. I refuse to let you die because of me!"
How does one keep a cursed spirit with them?
By providing them with a proper vessel.
How does one hide a curse in a family of sorcerers?
By hiding them somewhere sorcerers will never notice or think to look.
... Satoru knows what to do.
The solution is simple: He takes his twin into his own body.
...
It's...
It's like suddenly drinking a large mouthful of ice-cold water, and Satoru can feel them spreading inside his body. He gets exactly one second to remember that, despite everything, they are a cursed spirit and Satoru's body isn't exactly one suited to be a vessel in the first place, maybe this was a bad idea-
But there's no accompanying pain. Nothing of the sort. Satoru gets the sensation of a soft sigh from his twin, as they carefully curl themselves through Satoru's flesh and blood and...
... goes to sleep.
... Wait, goes to sleep?? Just like that? Doesn't he at least get a 'thank you' or something?!
Unbelievable.
...
That night, Satoru has a dream. There's a little girl his age who appears in front of him. White-haired and blue-eyed just like him, and the moment she looks up and catches sight of him, she smiles brightly.
"Toru-nii!"
Satoru catches his little sister when she throws herself at him in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry," he says. I'm sorry that it took me so long to figure things out. I'm sorry that you're dead, because of me. "I'm so sorry."
The girl tilts her head in confusion. "Why?"
Satoru chokes, "Do you really have to ask?!"
"Silly," his lookalike laughs, reaching up and patting his cheek in comfort. "Toru-nii has nothing to be sorry for."
Actually, no, but Satoru isn't about to let their first conversation together devolve into an argument. "What's your name? ... Wait, do you have one?"
"Shiki." They blink at each other in mutual surprise, and the girl -Shiki- scrunches her face in confusion. "My name is... Shiki?"
... She actually has a name. The clan even named her -then denied any records of her existing and killed her afterwards?? She's not even on the family grave! Were they trying to make his sister into a vengeful ghost??
Satoru breathes in deeply -even though this is a dream and he isn't actually breathing in deeply like this with his physical body right now, but, details- and firmly puts his hands on his sister's shoulders.
"Shiki," he says. "Do you know who killed you?"
His sister shakes her head. Well, it was a long shot -if Satoru had the timeline pinned down, then the clan would've ordered her death within the first few months after they'd been born. Children don't really start retaining conscious memories of their childhood until they're at least a few years old, so it makes sense that she wouldn't remember. In fact, it's probably for the best that she doesn't remember her no-doubt traumatic death.
"It'll be alright," he says. "It'll be alright. Toru-nii will protect you."
But first, he needs to know who in particular to protect her from. It takes Satoru awhile, over the course of a few years, but he's able to put together the minuscule pieces bit by bit. If Satoru hadn't possessed the Six Eyes and if it weren't for Shiki's own discerning eyesight, the investigation would've been a lot harder.
But the conclusion that they find at the end... it's...
...
Father? Really? Shiki had been killed by their own father?
Satoru can't believe it. Yes, Gojo Muneyoshi is another one of the elders' worthless puppets and only all-too-interested in polishing Satoru into the clan's sharpest weapon. But the man is a coward. Did he really have the guts to murder his own child?
... Only one way to find out.
The perfect opportunity comes one evening when both of them are awake, and going over Satoru's boring history texts. Muneyoshi gets up in the middle of the night, presumably to relieve himself or to fetch a glass of water, or something along those lines. Satoru deliberately turns on all the lights in his room.
As expected, Muneyoshi makes his way over.
“I guess it’s a good thing that at least one of us is interested in this rubbish, so we can at least get lessons over with quickly." Satoru sighs dramatically, and inside his head, his sister's giggles echo incessantly. "Counting on you for the next test, Shiki!”
Outside their room, Muneyoshi freezes. The man's cursed energy trembles with heavy, unspoken guilt. But there's no hiding anything from the Six Eyes, and Satoru has his answer.
So it really was you.
His fingers tighten on the edge of his history scrolls.
... It's not fair.
It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair. Why does Shiki have to die? Just because some elders think it means that it will curtail Satoru's power? There's no proof! And Satoru is strong. Even if his sister was a non-sorcerer -which she wasn't- it didn't matter; Satoru would be strong enough for the both of them, if that was what it took. But they wouldn't even give her a chance, and they just-!
Toru-nii?
... Don't worry, I'm fine, Shiki.
That night, Satoru resolves to himself that he'd rather see the world burn, before he ever let any of them touch his little sister again.
171 notes · View notes
cerise-on-top · 5 months
Note
Hi! I hope you've been doing alright!
I was wondering if you could possibly write something for Valeria comforting reader having a bit if a meltdown. Something along the lines of reader being overwhelmed by their job and just the emotions that come with the end of the year, and having Valeria just hug them, maybe do something sweet like surprising them with their favorite treat, etc. because she had been noticing the way reader had been a bit off. essentially some fluffy hurt/comfort <//3
I don't know if that's a bit much, but you're welcome to say no! Anyways, I just want to let you know that your writing is incredibly awesome and I hope that the new year treats you well! You put out a lot of great content but i really hope you're not overworking yourself either, make sure to take breaks and take care of yourself and yeah, ♡
-☆
Anon, unless you tell me to either write the most gruesome thing imaginable or straight up something that is not meant for minors, then I have no problem with any request! I tried to make it good, but I've always struggled with writing dialogue, and for that I am genuinely sorry! I hope it's still enjoyable enough, though! It's more of a fic again than anything else, at a good 3.000 words! I'm wishing you a good 2024 and that the new year may treat you more kindly than the current one has! Best of everything to you, anon! And best of everything to everyone else too, of course!
Valeria Comforting Reader
You had always been a strong person in Valeria’s eyes. You had to be in order to be with someone like her, after all. Caring for someone so vile in many people’s eyes, knowing fully well of her business, it was in spite of all of that you stayed with her. The way she could come home to you, giving it your all at work, giving her that kind smile of yours she was certain she didn’t quite deserve, it made even someone of her caliber a bit softer than usual. For as little as she cared about anyone else, wishing to have most people’s head on a stake at this point, if you gave her the command, she’d burn down every inch of this sorry planet just to see you smile again, just to watch the flames of life dance in your eyes. And from the ashes she’d raise something new, something better than what was right now. Valeria knew she could count on you, no matter what, but she hoped you did the same for her too.
Your eyes used to be full of vivacity, so lively whenever you got to see her, there was you trilling a song like a nightingale when you made her a cherry pie, from time to time she had to shut you up considering you never stopped talking whenever she came home. Bloody Valeria, who knows how many people she has killed? How many people would continue to suffer because of her selfishness? She had been called many things, a witch, a wench, a worthless wanton. But in those beautiful eyes of yours? The way you’d call her over, using sickeningly sweet nicknames in Spanish you picked up from somewhere. “Mi alma, mi tesoro, how is the most beautiful wife in this universe doing?” Granted, Valeria cringed when you suddenly started speaking Spanish to her of all people, but even so, she had to admit, you were so adorable, leaving her no choice but to respond in nothing but Spanish for the evening to compensate.
But even among the lovely banter the two of you often found yourselves in, it wasn’t enough to keep the light in your eyes from extinguishing. Your beautiful voice became rarer and rarer until you only spoke when spoken to. Whereas Valeria would once need to tell you to stop hugging her in public, these days she was happy if you as much as grabbed her hand while you were both seated on the couch. What happened to you? She wanted to know, she needed to know, but you wouldn’t budge. Whatever weighed on you took its toll on you, it wasn’t something Valeria could just fix with money, it seemed. A forced smile, empty eyes. Ever since you started that new job of yours a while ago, it seemed to never end for you.
Even as she sent one of her trusted people out to check on you, you were wary, knowing fully well about the dangers Las Almas posed to anyone living there, especially Valeria. You did not hesitate to tell her about that odd person coming to your workplace, that man could have been anyone, could have killed her. She was grateful, to have you be this open with her on a matter that concerned her, but in the same breath she cursed you for not taking better care of yourself. If she could, she would have come to your workplace to kill your boss, your superior, anyone giving you a hard time yourself. But alas, Los Vaqueros were on her heels again. And thus, she fled for another few weeks, leaving you alone in your unbearable misery. By no means was Valeria a traditionally affectionate person, but if she had to be more “normal” in that regard to see your happiness again, she could try.
The new year seemed nice around this year, with the first of January being on a Monday. The beginning of the year was also the beginning of a new week. Valeria could have stalled for time, waiting until it was midnight, but she decided to come home to you without intervention this time. That she decided until she found a small bakery, run by an elderly lady and her husband, that she had known for a while. Evening of the 30th, the shop was just about to close up when Valeria drove by, stopping right in front of it. The couple didn’t seem to mind her being here this late, giving her the usual wishes for a new year. May she be healthy, may she be happy. Lovely, if only such a thing would hold true for you instead. The wares seemed promising, obviously homemade. The bright, white cake with the strawberries on top seemed to catch her eyes. There weren’t many baked goods left, namely some cakes, some cookies and some rolls, but that tres leches looked delicious.
It didn’t take long for her to have bought the little treat. Enough for you, enough for her. Maybe such could cheer you up, if just a little bit.
The night was cold this time, with the clouds not covering a single bit of the sky. The moon was waning once again, leaving behind the world for its own purposes, leaving it in the dark where anyone and anything could be hiding. For all Valeria knew, someone could decide to try and pick a fight with her right now. Someone would die, but it wouldn’t be her. Never her, she had someone to come home to, after all. Whatever slug decided to rob her on a night like this, they would come to regret their mother’s birth. However, as she got closer to your little abode, she couldn’t help but worry. What if it wasn’t her to get hurt, but you instead? By no means would that be likely, hidden away like the treasure you were, for her eyes only, but it wasn’t impossible. Valeria pressed harder on the gas pedal.
Only when she saw the lights on this late did she finally calm down a bit. You were home, everything seemed in order. With the cake in one hand and her keys in the other, she unlocked the door, pushing it open. She had every reason to be mad at the incompetence she had to work with on the daily, but somehow, she had even more reason to be worried about you. Her worries were only reinforced when she heard quiet sobs coming from the living room. Normally, she’d burst right in, her revolver in hand. But this time? No weapon in the world could fight your demons, she could only watch as you tried your hardest to fight another day, to make it through alive and somewhat well.
Slowly, she opened the door this time as well, making just enough noise for you to take notice of her. Like a deer in headlights, you stared at her, choking back another sob. Clearly, you didn’t expect her to be home this early at all, but it didn’t matter. You seemed scared, ashamed even, as your mouth hung open, trying to find the right words to say. Regardless of what it was that would leave your mouth, Valeria wouldn’t get mad, not this time. Having put down the tres leches, she turned to you, approaching you slowly so as to not startle you. Your eyes were red and puffy, your voice hoarse as you finally spoke. You wiped away your tears, giving her a forced smile, like you had been for a while.
“Valeria, welcome back! How are you doing?”
Your voice was barely above a whisper, trying your hardest to not make it as obvious that you had been crying. A futile attempt, but an attempt nevertheless. If she could have, Valeria would have wrung out your little heart, ridding you of your demons if just for this weekend, but alas. Sitting down next to you on the couch, she took one hand of yours in hers, the other arm slung around your shoulders.
“Cariño, what’s the matter? I’m not mad, I promise, I just wanna know.”
Your mouth formed an o, clearly trying to think of a bullshit excuse she wasn’t going to buy anyway. “Be honest with me!” Valeria’s voice was calm, even if she could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her. Whatever was eating at you, gnawing at your mind and your heart, you were going to tell her, preferably tonight.
Holding onto her hand, you squeezed it, looking away for a moment. She had her nails done that pretty pink again, the color you always liked so much on her. But even so, it was apparent you didn’t know what to say. Rather sooner than later, you had to come clean to her eventually. You had joked about it, but one of these days Valeria might just interrogate you for your mental wellbeing, counterproductive as that might be. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you bit your lips, hoping to seem just a tad bit less pathetic than before. Valeria was so strong, you had always been a joke in comparison.
“You know, you’re actually really tough, Valeria. You’re always on the move, always evading the bad guys, always doing what needs to be done in order for the both of us to have a good life. But look at me: I can’t even work properly without my co-workers trampling all over me. Every day I have to endure things that no one wants to put up with, every day I can’t say no to them even if I tried. Sometimes I do wish I was more like you, really. It’s just… I haven’t accomplished anything. Nothing I do seems to matter. This year was awful, and I have little hope that the next one will be any better. As much as I love you, Valeria, and you know that I adore you, I hope you’ll find someone better next year. Someone who’s worthy of having you around, someone who won’t bitch and cry over every single little thing. I’m a weak and pathetic little loser who’s nothing like you. Can’t say no, and it’s slowly killing me. I want to just run away forever, never to be seen again, and become a cryptid of sorts. I fucking hate myself, I hate this miserable, shitty planet I was born on, and I hope next year is going to be my last! I don’t think I can make it through another one.”
For a second, even Valeria was quiet, not thinking it was going to be this bad. She knew you were unhappy, but she didn’t think you were hoping to die this soon. You and her had your entire lives ahead of you, preferably together. There was no way Valeria could let something like this just slide. This was something big and important, not something you should just sweep under the rug and never talk about.
Valeria removed her arm and hand from yours, only to grab your face, cradling it somewhat roughly, to make sure you would look at her. Despite never having been an emotional person, this was important. You were going to look at her, no matter how much you protested, wanting to look away, and you were going to listen too.
“Don’t you dare say something like this ever again, you hear me? You’re going to live alongside me, and you’re going to live well. If I have to kill all of your co-workers myself, I will. You’re the last person that should die on this rotten planet. I had to live this long without you in it, you’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it. But don’t you fucking dare ever think about dying again, alright? If your boss is a bastard, who gives a shit. Same for your co-workers. You need a job? A good one you’ll enjoy with nice people? Cariño, I can get you in just about anywhere. You wanna work at a bakery? At an elementary school? You wanna work an office job? Hell, if you want I’ll make sure you’ll get to do home office whenever you need it too, but you’re not going to leave me alone just like that. The next year is going to be good to you, and it won’t be a matter of if. It’ll be a matter of when, and at my command, a good year for you will start on Monday, and that’s final.”
Her voice was almost loud, she was clearly mad. Not at you, you could never do any wrong in her eyes, but at the people who made you feel this way about yourself, about everything regarding you. It scared you, you wanted to pull away, but her grasp on you grew stronger. She meant well, you knew that much, but never did you think you could make her this mad. You were gentle, you were kind, and that also showed in how Valeria would treat you. You weren’t some kind of replaceable lackey, Valeria would never find someone like you again.
Your eyes were wide in fear and Valeria’s expression softened up a bit. “Look, I’m sorry for scaring you like that. But I need you to understand that you’re scaring me too when you say things like that. We’ll get through this together. You quit your job, we’re gonna find you a new one with good people that you can enjoy. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you next year, that I’m going to make sure myself. I’ll try to take off more days, try to get more time for you so we can be together. But please don’t do anything too rash, please don’t do anything dumb. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I lost you. Alright?”
Once again, you teared up, but this time you couldn’t look away either, Valeria was still holding you.
“Alright?”
“Alright, fine. Valeria, I’m so sorry.” Your voice was quiet, broken by your current circumstances. When was the last time someone cared about you like this? Valeria was the most dangerous woman in the country, and yet here she was, comforting a little no one like you who happened to meet her by happenstance. You didn’t bite back your sobs this time, letting it all out instead. It’s not like it was the first time she had ever seen you cry, but you wished it would be the last time. This was humiliating, even if your wife had found you in much worse situations. You closed your eyes, letting your tears fall freely.
“Please don’t apologize.” She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before giving you a long and tight hug. A token example of how she cared for you. Despite not being one for physical affection, even she couldn’t deny you a hug when you were downright miserable. Although she wasn’t usually very warm, something about tonight, maybe it was the feeling of being disposable, made you feel warmer than usual. Valeria was by no means a kind woman normally, but somehow, you got to see this side of her that was unknown to everyone else. You knew she was the one for you.
Maybe leaving her alone would have been such a cruel thing of you after all. The way she held you when she was drunk, the way she’d kiss you when she finally got home after months of not seeing you, the way she’d look at you when she thinks you aren’t looking, it was all reminiscent of a fantasy you dreamed about when you were younger. Maybe you really didn’t need a hero, the villainess worked just fine for you. She held you like you were the most worthwhile treasure in the world. A hero would never do that, a hero would likely die to attain some silly goal. Valeria was different from that, she would litter the world with the corpses of those who wronged you. It was a challenging sort of love, but it was love nevertheless. You wanted to show her the same kind of love. Maybe you weren’t ready to kill someone for her just yet, but if it ever came down to it, maybe you could try to live again. Perhaps not for yourself as you were right now, but for Valeria. She was worth more than a planet made of pure diamonds.
Eventually, your sobs turned to sniffles, your sniffles died down. Valeria never stopped holding you until you had finally calmed down. It felt surprisingly good, letting it all out for once, not having to worry about being judged. Not many words were exchanged that evening, but they were sincere. Valeria loved you, you loved Valeria, it was that simple. You were going to remind yourself of that fact for the rest of eternity if you had to. Until you never had to actively think about that again, until it was that ingrained into your mind.
“Do you want some tres leches? I got some just for you on the way back home.”
You still held onto her shoulders, giving her the first proper smile of the evening. “You spend too much money on me, and you know it.” You playfully and lightly hit her chest, giving her a bashful look. “But, you know, I wouldn’t say no to it either.”
“There’s that beautiful smile, mi bello amor.” Once again, she cradled your face, this time much more gently than before. Once again, she gave you a quick kiss to your cheek before getting up to get the cake. Naturally, you followed suit, allowing her to take the lead as she always had. “Do you want the big piece or the small one?”
“I want you to have the big piece for being the best wife out there!”
“Wrong answer, you get the big one.” And with that, two plates and two forks had been prepared, each filled with some delicious, beautiful cake.
93 notes · View notes
solarmorrigan · 5 months
Note
hey, do you remember the crochet steddie fanfic you posted about a yearish ago? that fic inspired me to learn how to crochet. the way you describe the process of choosing the yarns and the hooks and everything was really intriguing to me, so i ordered some yarn and stuff, then googled some tutorials.
anyway, im hooked(pun intended) now, and ive made so many awesome things(just finished a blanket!). you are an amazing writer and i am always so excited to read something you wrote, even if i don't know what it's about.
hope you have a nice day. :)
This is genuinely one of the most wonderful things someone has ever said in relation to something I've written and I am still not over it
Seriously, thank you very much for sending this <3
And also: that's so cool?? You had an interest and you tried it and you taught yourself a whole fucking skill and you made a blanket! (Among other things!) I hope you know how cool it is that you did that!
25 notes · View notes
sga-owns-my-soul · 2 months
Note
may we please be blessed with a blurb from sheppard becomes the bad guy 🥺🥺🥺
ABSOLUTELY YOU MAY
Things were going as well as they could expect, until Lorne opened a door and John heard him curse under his breath.
"What did you find?"
"Sir, I think it's better if you don't-" Lorne tried to stop him, but John pushed past him and into the room, only for his heart to drop out of his chest.
The room in front of him was mostly empty- save for the three still bodies, laying face down in pools of blood. John's vision blurred immediately as he rushed into the room, dropping to Rodney's side.
"No," was all he could say as he rolled Rodney's limp body over, a sob forcing it's way through him as he met Rodney's eyes; cold, lifeless, open but empty. "No, Rodney, come on, wake up," John begged, shaking Rodney's shoulders. "You can't leave me, I can't lose all of you at once. Dammit, McKay, wake up!"
"Sir?" Lorne asked, hesitantly placing his hand on John's shoulder. John shoved him away, moving over to Teyla and grabbing her shoulders.
"Guys, seriously, wake up! I'm the one who's supposed to die first, you can't leave me behind!"
John was only half aware of Lorne speaking, but he wasn't sure if it was to him or the other marines. The tears flowed freely down his face, his vision blurred. John felt too many emotions all at once- rage, guilt, grief, anguish, horror, anger, depression, all raging a war inside him as he stared at the dead faces of his team.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I should have- it should have been me. God, why wasn't it me?"
John wasn't sure how long he sat there, sobs tearing through him as he sat with his team. Slowly, eventually, the pain turned to numbness, and John finally stood.
"Sir?" Lorne asked hesitantly. John couldn't bring himself to look at him. He just walked out of the room silently, Lorne right on his tail, radioing his team to fall back to the jumper.
15 notes · View notes
wetcatspellcaster · 3 months
Note
Hello! I know you are very against a AA/Tav ending, but I love the way you wrote him, especially the party, maze and library scenes. Would you ever consider writing another story where Tav loves AA back/wants to be with him?
Hey anon, thank you for the question!
I'm not against the AA/Tav ending. I think it's the evil ending, due to the 7,000 deaths required to have the ritual work, but beyond that element of the Disk Horse I find frustrating, I enjoy many aspects of the Ascended ending and that's why I wrote a fic about it! The dynamics and moral standpoint of the fic are not a judgement from me but instead an artistic choice from 1. The Tav I already shipped Astarion with, as this was the only way an A!Astarion ending would play out with Rosalie specifically, and 2. The genre of Gothic horror and the genre of villain/heroine ships I go absolutely feral for.
At this point in time, I don't think I'm likely to write another story with A!Astarion in. This is partly bc of burnout, and the fact that Pieces has ended up being very close what I wanted it to be. If I were to write another story, I think it would still have similar dynamics bc as I said, this is the kind of heroine/villain ship I go feral for. That's reflected in other fics I've written for other fandoms - I just like watching the heroine wreck a bad man's shit.
TLDR I don't have any plans to write any more Ascended Astarion at this point bc I need a rest and have lots of other fics to write. If I did write again, I don't think it would be the dynamic you're looking for.
The only thing that does tempt me is vampire lord Tav vs Ascended!Astarion, but I don't really have a plot for that yet. Which is why I microdosed it in the True Polymorph chapter of Pieces for my own mental health instead.
19 notes · View notes
ragnarokhound · 6 months
Note
I’ve already left a comment on intricate rituals, but I just realized I forgot an important part. Having experience with toys but not other people is such a fun solution. My fave. Yes he can take it (yes you will be the first). The possessiveness of it all!!
But also from author’s perspective being like. Nah I don’t wanna deal with That. Absolutely valid <3
-🦇🐺
wAUGH THANK YOU!! <33
frank discussion about sex & the porny bits of my fic that got. really long somehow? below:
Hehehe yes - when I was writing, I hadn't necessarily intended that to be read as 'Tim's never bottomed before', but I realized belatedly that even if he's bottomed in the past, he certainly hasn't ever bottomed for an alpha >:3c
a lot of Jason's 'we don't have to, babe 🥺' came from anxiety about pushing for too much too fast as much as it came from the practical sentiment of 'knots are a lot to handle when ur body isn't made to take them' lmao
(because, well. look at his behavior for the entire fic, the boy spent six months gently boiling the frog of their relationship. the kind of wretched anxiety that spawns that behavior doesn't go away after one lousy love confession OTL TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE)
And Jason's been all up in Tim's business, so he KNOWS Tim hasn't been having a lot of sex because uh. He'd be able to smell it for one fjdslafjs and Tim would probably tell him about it for two fdjlafjk they talk about everything ugh they're soooo married in this fic it's disgusting lol
but like! Tim's never been with an alpha before!! of course he's never taken a real knot!! Jason would be the first OwO And it was one more way to shove another possessive omegaverse trope about Jason being jealous over Tim without it actually being awful fufufu
Hearing that Tim would be able to take his knot gave Jason extreme whiplash from 'wait what, how would you know that, who's been touCHING YOU' to 'holy fuck you've been prepping yourself? for me? that's so hot' and I am very here for any opportunity to indulge in possessive tropes with mostly just sexy consequences, especially with these two ;)
On another note, I genuinely think toys are great for testing out what you like, without fear of judgement and without worrying about 'doing well' or whatever. You can focus on yourself! You can see what works for you! You can discover your size kink-
- or lack thereof without it being tangled in complicated feelings or anxieties.
I looove the image of control freak Timothy Drake figuring himself out with toys once he knows that's an option (though imo he also doesn't give a fuck about what other people think enough that he'd be fine exploring with another person djslfa but i digress) and I love the image of control freak Timothy Drake wanting to experiment specifically with his partners to figure out all the ways they experience pleasure @_@ he wants to know how they're compatible, and he wants to know what makes them tick!!
*COUGH* anyway thank you!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic, and that you enjoyed that part specifically <33!!
21 notes · View notes
bumblingbabooshka · 10 months
Note
your stonn/t'pring fics are so good!!!! i love them a lot and thank you for writing them <333
Thank you!! The Stonn/T'Pring-Spock dynamic is literally 'I would find you in any lifetime' vs '...to get another divorce' to me and I love it. Let Stonn appear more prominently in SNW to cement this into canon!
Tumblr media
(them in my newest fic)
42 notes · View notes
secrettastemakerland · 4 months
Note
Hello I’ve noticed your blog and you write some good Hima fics :P I was wondering if you can do a one shot based off an idea I have? the idea is that Himawari is struggling with the trauma from her academy arc with Kawaki to getting kidnapped to watching her friend die ect. But hima being the selfless sweetie she is keeps all this bottled up because she doesn’t want to bother her family with her issues causing her to be distant from her family. However something triggers Hima to have a panic attack and her family helps her.
anon, I would be honoured but also extremely sad lol
She couldn't do it. She couldn't get to sleep. Again.
Himawari pressed her pillow against her face, trying to suppress the sobs that wracked her body and the tears that wouldn't stop coming.
This whole thing was stupid anyway. Everything was fine. Everyone was fine. Except for the fact that everyone wasn't, Himawari flinched at her own thoughts, pressing the pillow against her face harder.
She didn't know why she was feeling this way when she had made it out alive. Didn't deserve to feel this way when she was alive. Alive and in the room she thought she'd never see again, inside the house she thought she'd never get back to with her family that she thought she'd never be able to say goodbye to.
The room where she also hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since coming back from that horrible mission, the one that she didn't have the heart to tell her parents that may be her last one because they were just so proud of her.
And her parents, oh her beloved parents, how could she explain to them that she felt like she didn't deserve to be alive after everything that happened and how she (and her body) didn't feel like she deserved a good night's sleep.
Himawari moved to settle down on her side, hugging the pillow as tightly as she could, starting a staring contest with her stuffed bear.
...
Read on ao3.
12 notes · View notes
tunastime · 8 months
Note
🦮 for sorry i left you in the dark? (i love your writing so so much- stretching endless night ruined me!)
title: sorry I left you in the dark
summary: The game ends. There's not even a bang this time. Unless brutal murder could be called a bang. The game ends, and, as per usual, Bdubs comes home. He relaxes. He cleans. He settles back into the routine of daily life. He's not expecting anything special after that 24-hours is up. But, unlike many other times, someone very special is waiting for him.
Or, Etho does what he does best: throwing a wrench into Bdubs' plans.
snippet:
Bdubs wakes up to the smell of burning toast.
He scrubs the sleep from his eyes for a long time before he really recognizes it. For a moment, his heart leaps into his throat at the prospect of someone being in his base. But he rolls over, remembering the smell of burning redstone being so similar, knowing the working mechanics of his base alongside everything.
He winds his tired way around his base, clicking and whirring and sounds of redstone mixed in with sounds of people--people he knows, people who may have been with him a week prior. He's not expecting anyone, to say the least. If anything, everyone he'd want to see would be busy--ember keeping and modded world watching and house making. His list was long as is, without having to think of what other people were doing. There's too much going on to wait for anyone to resettle. Especially after this one. It didn't even suck that bad. It was just messy.
When he steps into the kitchen, someone stands there, toaster in one hand, plug in the other. Bdubs blinks, screwing his face up, eyebrows scrunching together.
"Etho?" he says, swallowing his heart. "What in the world are you doin' here?"
Etho smiles, all teeth and gums.
"Hiya, Bdubs. Long time no see!"
(fake fic ask game)
12 notes · View notes
meownotgood · 7 months
Note
okay no but seriously. your blog makes me so happy. your writing is wonderful and anyone can tell it's a skill you've honed with love, and i'm overjoyed that you feel personal joy to share it! i cannot look or think about aki without thinking of how much he is cared for, and how much more appreciation i have for his character, and how much more depth you give him as he lives on through your work. i adore how all types of intimacy are portrayed, including sexually and emotionally. you inspire me every time i come by your blog to keep working on my own skills, and that loving a character can be so very fun!! i hope every break you take is refreshing, restful, and that you can come back and talk about aki and other interests even more, because it's all truly lovely!
🥹 you're so sweet... that makes me feel a lot better... thank you for your kind words, and thank you for enjoying my blog and my writing!!!!
11 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 7 months
Note
there is just so much life and warmth in your writing im rereading a work and just in awe at how ?? it evokes just such warm feelings I’m like aaa/@&B???!?……..
Tumblr media
i'm fine. i'm fine. i'm FINE.
12 notes · View notes
keithsandwich · 8 months
Note
I just wanted to say that I love your writings. Do you have any new ideas brewing? Fics that you're currently working on? Suitors that you'd like to write for?
Oh, I haven't much posted here but thank you, Anon 🥰
I only have ideas for now, I'm still feeling a bit lost tbh so they may or may not happen. The main ones are Nymph!Maeve (thanks to @lorei-writes) and a small series of short pregnancy/baby fics for Keith and Maeve too (sorry, my heart belongs to them). I can always come back to trying to write for Kinktober too.
As for other suitors, rn I'm hyperfocused on Keith but sometimes I enjoy a little challenge, so who knows. I really like Gilbert and Silvio (sorry Rhodolitians), I can see myself trying to do something for them in the future.
8 notes · View notes