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#no spice
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Good Omens Fic Rec: That's not what I asked
Aziraphale had to will himself to relax the grip on his glass. Crowley found his words and shot them out: “If I were to kiss you right now, would you let me?” _______________________________ It's 1958 and Crowley finds his courage.
Length: 1,348 words
AO3 Rating: General Audiences
Best for: Safe in Public, At Home, Angst
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by black_earth
*Minor Spoilers* It's been over a week, I've read this six times, and I'm still not fucking recovered.
This short fic is devastating. Like it literally will beat you to a pulp despite it being the softest whisper of a moment. The tension, the subtext, the yearning??? It has such a sensory rich prose. The dip of the couch as they move closer, the way Crowley's leather creaks, the warmth of their breath on each other's skin. I'm going insane.
This is also undeniably, a story of queerness. Yes, they are a demon and angel, and sure, in the canon that's "why" their love is forbidden. But take that away and the story remains the same. Two men shaped beings whose love must be hidden and unacknowledged or else face punishment. It makes me grieve for our community, for those who came before us who were not allowed to be free. I'm so grateful for the progress that's been made, but until the day when everyone can kiss their soulmate without fearing retribution, the work is not done.
There's no explicit content, but read this at home so you can feel every morsel of it.
Read it here, fic by black_earth
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hannahyeaman · 14 days
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Hello,
I'm an adult fiction author—fantasy and contemporary fantasy—and my debut fantasy releases May 28, 2024.
I initially got the idea for SOUL-BOUND in early April 2017, wanting to explore how a winged character would navigate their world without flight. But I didn't truly start writing it until January 2019 and now I'm finally pursuing publishing it!
Here's the gorgeous cover! Illustrated by the wonderful @oxiente, who has drawn Mika and Roshan a lot for me over the past few years. I'm really grateful that she took on this project. She delivered beyond my expectations! There are so many cute details! 🥺
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PITCH
When a tsundere princess with healing magic loses her flight during her quest to heal corrupted crystal roots, she must depend on a charming vagabond's aid to help her before their avian world collapses to corruption.
SUMMARY
Avem, a continent inhabited by bird-like humans called Avians, consists of seven territories, each of which contains a crystal root: a treelike sanctuary preserving magic. Avians cannot wield the land’s magic themselves.
Except, Mika, the princess of Passíer. However, her father forbids her to use it out of concern for her safety.
Due to the expanding corruption from Cantio; a fallen territory under Passíer’s jurisdiction because of its damaged root, Zayn the militant king of Nyx, suggests Scorching Cantio. To avoid such a catastrophic outcome, Mika flees from home, determined to heal Cantio’s root herself.
In Cantio, she meets Roshan, a vagabond playing double agent to protect what’s left of his uncorrupted homelands. Upon noticing her pink feathers, unique for her specific species, he cautions her to leave before she’s captured and used as coin. She snubs his warning and is nearly taken captive.
During his efforts to help her, Roshan is wounded. Mika heals him with her magic, unintentionally and unknowingly bonding them together.
When the quest costs Mika’s wing and grounds her, she accepts Roshan’s offer to escort her across Avem to heal the damaged roots before corruption destroys their world.
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If you like birb characters, the ship dynamic from Anastasia and Tangled, books like Dance of Thieves and The Girl at Midnight, and prose like Naomi Novik and Margaret Rogerson, then stick around 🩷
eBook pre-order link!
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devilry-revelry · 1 year
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Untitled - Male Orc x Female Human (Part 1)
TW: Creeps in vans following women at night (?)
It's literally just fluff, 0 spice.
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“You’re bleeding,” Riley replied dumbly. “You just… You just tackled a van.”
The corner of the orc’s mouth quirked.
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The meeting invitation appeared in Riley’s inbox at precisely 4:40PM. 20 minutes before she was due to clock out. It appeared with a cheery chime, as if it wasn’t delivering an urgent 4:50 meeting invite. 
The subject was listed in all caps, with a big red exclamation point:
TOMORROW’S AUDIT
Various department heads were also listed on the meeting invite, but their presence was notably listed as optional, while hers was listed as a required attendance. None of the other recipients showed up to the meeting. It was just her, and her manager that met in the conference room. Riley hoped that the minimal attendance would mean that the meeting would be short and she would get out of the office and to the bus stop on time. The meeting was brief, and ended in less than the noted 10 minutes. 
Her manager tacked on a cheery, “I’ll give you these three minutes back.” sort of comment as if she wasn’t off-handing a to-do list of hours worth of work that was due by the start of business the next day. While the work wasn’t difficult, it was endlessly frustrating. It was last-second busy work that wouldn’t have been necessary if the un-required-attendance team followed standard practice and procedures while going about their daily tasks. They didn’t, though. So Riley got to review the previous year’s files, and make necessary corrections and additions. 
A couple of extra bodies would have made the job fast but Riley was flying solo, and it took her hours to finish. By the time she locked up the office and got outside it was nearing midnight. The buses had most definitely stopped running for the day. While she had been considering ordering a ride, she ultimately decided that she didn’t live too far away. Her apartment was only a couple miles away, and it wouldn’t kill her to get her steps in. The evening was pleasant, warm and clear with a bit of a breeze. If it wasn’t for the too-tall buildings of the business district, she would have been able to see the moon and the stars. 
As pleasant as the evening air was, it was almost eerie. Riley had only ever been to the business district during business hours, where there was an almost constant bustle of people and cars milling about the street. After hours (before hours, in this case) it was a ghost town. The only thing that disrupted the quiet was the delicate clicking of her kitten heels–
And the sound of an engine, as a windowless white van cruised by her and up the road. 
Riley made a quiet, grim, joke about the van. It touched on kidnappers and free candy, and ended with her convincing herself that the driver was probably some blue collar worker that had a late night just like she did. 
A block later and she spotted the van again, this time doubling back the way it came. She wondered if the driver was lost, or if she was just walking so slow that the driver went and picked up some fast food and was doubling back to go home. 
The third time Riley saw the windowless van she cursed her manager so hard that she hoped that everyone in her bloodline felt it.
It was easier to believe that she had an overactive imagination than to believe that someone would be following her in an actual creeper-mobile in the middle of the night. She felt guilty when she attempted to snap a picture of the license plate as it cruised up the road and out of sight, still partially convinced that she was overreacting. She considered calling the police, and then talked herself out of it. What would she say, anyway? That someone was driving by a lot? And what would the police say? Could they even really do anything if nothing had been done?
On the van’s fourth pass, Riley realized that getting her steps in just might actually kill her. 
The idea of taking an alleyway shortcut surfaced, and she quickly stomped it down. A little more bad luck and going down the alleyway could result in her own missing person ad. Getting home as fast as she could seemed optimal, but then she couldn’t help but think about potentially leading the van straight to her apartment building and living with the knowledge that they would know where she lived. So she took a detour. It would tack a good 15 minutes on to her journey, but the new route would take her through the entertainment district. It would be well lit, and more populated. She would bypass a couple of bars. Maybe they stayed open late on weeknights. She could duck inside, call a cab, call the police, call her mom and tell her that she regretted ever moving to the city.
On the fifth pass, Riley was turning onto the main thoroughfare of the entertainment district. Unfortunately, the street wasn’t the thriving place she knew it to be on the weekend. It was just as dead as her primary route, and while it was better lit it wasn’t the beacon of light and music she had wanted it to be. 
The road she veered down was one-way, and while the van didn’t turn after her, it slowed in the intersection considerably before driving off. As soon as the vehicle was out of view, Riley pulled off her heels and started to run. She made it a single block before her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it pulse in her ears, and despite the favorable weather she started to shiver. Regardless of it all, there was still some part of her insisting that she was overreacting, that this sort of fear-response was insanely dramatic. Time crawled. Seconds felt like hours. Feet felt like miles. 
By the time an open bar came into view she felt like crying. 
Just outside of the streetlight, the exterior was aglow with wicked crimson neon, and there was a row of motorcycles lining the sidewalk. There were a total of two people lingering outside and they were very visibly non-human. One of the figures was distinctly draconic or reptilian in nature. A figure with sharp teeth, dark scales, and glowing eyes. The other could have been mistaken for a very big human if it wasn’t for the large tusks jutting up from his bottom row of teeth. They stood side-by-side, leaning against the building, each nursing a pint. 
There was a fresh wave of paranoia that surfaced (what if the driver had been herding her in this direction?). She mentally prepared for the worst, and desperately hoped for the best as she made a mad dash towards the bar. She got a couple feet into the street then came to an abrupt stop.
The van was in the intersection right next to the bar. The tinted windows were like black mirrors, reflecting the green glow from the street light, and the red neon from the bar. 
Riley backpedaled back to the sidewalk. Her entire body was quaking now in big fitful shudders. She wasn’t getting enough air. 
The streetlight flicked over to a flashing yellow. And then red. 
There was a whistle, loud and so shrill it made Riley flinch. Her eyes tore away from the van and landed on the two magick that loomed outside of the bar, just beyond the line of motorcycles. The orc had discarded his beer and had stepped away from the building. Even from across the street, Riley noted him to be huge – and he looked downright monstrous with the blood-red neon lining his figure. 
“You good, babe?”
The orc’s draconic companion set his drink aside, attention glued to the loitering vehicle. Riley followed his glowing gaze. 
The light had changed back to green, and the van was beginning to ease forward into the intersection at an intimidating crawl. Breathless, and feeling weak, Riley pointed at the van. 
And that was all it took. 
Riley barely even lifted her hand to gesture at the van, and it caused the orc to take a running charge at it. His long dark hair splayed behind him with the burst of speed. His face contorted in a vicious snarl. Tires squealed. The van lurched forward but it wasn’t fast enough. The orc had already closed the distance. 
He slammed into the driver’s side door. The window shattered. The collision was delivered with so much force that the driver’s side of the vehicle lifted off of the ground and for a moment it teetered on the passenger side wheels. There was a terrified scream, the van righted itself – and then it sped off into the night.
The orc stalked after it for a few paces, swearing in a language that was harsh and guttural. 
Riley watched, awestruck. 
Breathing was suddenly easier. 
When the orc turned towards her, his whole demeanor changed. He was no longer some rage-fueled beast charging into battle. He was no longer a snarling mass of anger and muscle. His movements were more gentle, his demeanor softening as he made a tentative approach. He treated her like a frightened deer who was ready to run. 
“Hey,” he said. His voice was low and gentle, the edges curling with something husky and rough. “Hey, honey, are you alright?”
Riley took him in as he approached. The massive, looming height. The tattooed sleeves of black on his arms that started at his biceps then faded as it stretched down towards his wrists. The tusks that reached up past his sharp nose, the stern brow that loomed over dark eyes. The blood. There was blood on his face, blood on the neck of his white t-shirt.
“You’re bleeding,” Riley replied dumbly. “You just… You just tackled a van.”
The corner of the orc’s mouth quirked, “Yeah, well. I think I had some alright reasoning. Looks like you might be bleeding too.”
“What?” Riley practically squawked. Her hand reached up to her forehead, feeling around the same area where he had sustained his own injury. 
The orc chuckled softly, “Your foot.”
Riley looked down to her nylon covered feet, and saw stamps of blood on the pavement. Awareness tore through the already dwindling adrenaline. Stinging pain blossomed in the pad of her foot. 
“Oh.” She lifted her foot, cursing as she saw another stamp of blood on the sidewalk. Tears began to prickle at the corners of her eyes. “Oh. Ouch.”
A big hand touched her elbow, warm and grounding. She looked up, up, up at the orc who now stood beside her. Jesus, he was massive. And quiet on his feet. 
“Why don’t we get you inside. We can get you cleaned up then get you home.”
Riley fumbled with her thoughts. She managed to stammer out a feeble, “You’ve already done enough, sir. Thank you, but–”
“Arzok,” he said. He stepped in a bit closer, his voice gentling even further. “I’m going to pick you up now. We don’t want you getting anything in whatever is already bleeding.”
“No, really,” Riley insisted. “I’m fine. I’m–”
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“I– Riley–”
“It’s nice to meet you, Riley.  I want you to take a deep breath. Nice and slow. Good girl.” He smiled, and Riley’s nerves began to settle. “I’m going to pick you up. We are going to cross the street and go inside, and we’re going to get you cleaned up. Okay?”
Swallowing, Riley nodded. She took another deep breath. “‘Kay.”
Arzok dipped down and scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing. He strode across the street, calm and casual. Like he didn’t just nearly overturn a van by himself. Riley stared up into his face, barely even processing that the dragon that had been with him, told them that he called the police and reported the incident, and the plate number. Arzok replied in that language Riley didn’t understand, and then they entered the bar. 
Music blared into her ears as soon as the door opened. The smell of fried food and liquor assaulted her senses. If she hadn’t been on the brink of having a good old fashioned come-apart, it might have been a fun place to hang out but in the moment it was far too much. Riley turned her face into Arzok’s chest and took another calming breath. When she turned her attention outward, she was being carried behind the bar, and through the walkway near the kitchen. The smell of fry oil became especially pungent. He took a turn into what appeared to be an office space, and then on into the adjoining bathroom. It was a clean space, and well lit; likely reserved for staff. It smelled clean. Like air freshener with a touch of bleach. 
Arzok set Riley on the bathroom counter then knelt to dig through the cabinetry beneath her. Not a moment later and a first aid kit was being set beside him. He popped it open and dug through the contents for a moment. 
“So. Why are you out so late, Riley?”
“I–” The nylon on her wounded foot was torn away, shredding with a wisp of sound. Riley grimaced and recoiled, suddenly reminded that her feet were probably disgusting and dirty. “I can do this. You can go ahead and go.”
Still kneeling on the bathroom floor, his fingers circled her ankle and held her still. “Let me,” he said. “You can do me next.” 
Something about him managed to calm her worries, and she settled onto the counter. She was rewarded with a wink, then he was all business.
He opened a tiny-packaged towelette and started rubbing the asphalt and dirt from her foot. He tossed the soiled wipe into the trash, then unpackaged a fresh one to clean the cut itself. “Talk to me. Why are you out so late? And alone, no less…”
“I was given some last minute overtime,” Riley grumbled. “The buses stopped running a couple of hours ago. So…” her shoulders hiked up to her ears. 
“Shit, sweetheart. You don’t have a boyfriend who could have come to pick you up?”
Riley snorted inelegantly, “No.”
Arzok’s dark eyes met hers. He paused in his work, his hand still clasped around her ankle. He smiled slowly as he drawled, “Would you like one?”
The surprise was short lived, cut off by sharp acrid pain as he pressed an alcohol doused swab against the cut on her foot. Tears instantly gathered in Riley’s eyes and she tried to yank her herself from his grasp, but Arzok held firm. He crooned quiet words of encouragement until the pain receded. When he was finished cleaning the laceration, he wrapped her foot with a bit of gauze and medical tape. 
“Your turn.”
Arzok rose from the ground placing the first aid kit beside Riley. Before she had the chance to hop down from the counter, he placed his big hands on either side of her legs, then leaned in. He tilted his head just so, giving her clear and easy access to the cut on his forehead. 
It was daunting, being so close to someone so big – and yet she wasn’t afraid. There wasn’t a single alarm bell telling her body that it needed to fight or flee. It was strange, albeit quiet contentment. Riley rationalized it by summing it up to the fact that Arzok had tackled a van because she had pointed at it. And he potentially (probably) saved her life. 
Riley fretted after the cut first. She was concerned with the amount of blood. It was on the side of his face, his neck, his shirt. Despite the amount of blood, it was a small little cut. He’d been drinking, and it was a head wound. It was treated with an alcohol swab, which Arzok took without even flinching, and then Riley tasked herself with scrubbing away the blood. 
“So?” Arzok asked as she worked. 
“So what?” 
He smiled, turning his head to pin her with his dark gaze, but Riley took his chin in her hand and turned him away. He laughed, “So can I get your number, Riley?”
She pulled her hands away, physically recoiling with her surprise. “What? Why?”
“Because I think you’re fucking cute, and I’d like to take you on a date. Maybe I can be the one you call when you get saddled with more overtime.”
“You don’t mean that,” came the fast reply. It wasn’t that Riley didn’t think herself worthy of a man’s attention. When she picked the right clothes, and put a bit of effort into her appearance, Riley could pick up a man no problem. But her most recent visit to the dating pool didn’t end well, and beyond that she was wearing her work clothes, looking deliberately mousey and – after running for her life – messy. She looked disheveled, and on the verge of falling apart. 
“Yes I do.” He grabbed her wrists, gently guiding them away from his face. He stayed stooped over so he was eye-level. “Let me take you home. Let me give you my number and you can use it if you want to.”
Once again, Riley was quietly amazed that no alarm bells sounded. She didn’t wrestle with the idea of a stranger taking her home. It was one of those things that felt natural to do. This was the closest that Riley had ever been to an orc and she was only somewhat perplexed by her level of comfort. The amount of forwardness he showed should have been a bit more off putting, but Riley found it endearing. 
What were the symptoms of shock? What was the reverse of Stockholm syndrome?
“Fine,” she eventually said, obeying the curious gut instinct to allow the orc to take care of her. “But only because you tackled a van for me.”
Arzok smiled big, triumphant and charming, “Good fucking deal.”
[Part 2] [Part 3]
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whatsabriard · 9 months
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i. Jonathan watched Jennifer wriggle in her discomfort. She was no stranger to the occasional proposition. She was gorgeous and kind and that combination was intoxicating for most men (and the occasional woman). He should know. 
This was their first proposition as a couple, though, and he had to admit he was sort of flattered.
Flattered, but entirely uninterested in ‘wrestling’ with anybody besides Jennifer. 
He had to swallow back a chuckle when Jennifer declined their kind invitation without actually declining it. Instead she gave a witty rejoinder so as not to embarrass the doctor and Ruby. 
Jonathan could only grin.
ii. As invitations went, “boys against girls” in a wrestling match (a euphemism if ever she’d heard one) was one of the more exotic ones. She had to give them credit for their imagination.
You’d think landing in a wheelchair would have turned Dr. Cobb off the sport. 
He was looking at Jennifer as though she was a delectable dessert just waiting to be enjoyed.
Jonathan was watching her in amusement and she decided she’d be putting her husband in the Argentinian back-breaker when they got home. 
And failing that, she’d just wrap her thighs around his head until he yielded. 
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dykejugheadjones · 10 months
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archie intensely bores me as a subject. like all archies r boring its just such a boring name. i am talkinh abput archie andrews. the best thing in his chracter was his constant unionizing and the sexual tension him and jughead had in the earlier seasons
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rantsaboutlife · 6 months
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Looking for adult fantasy books without any spice. It’s hard to find it nowadays.
And YA too pls bc nowadays I’m not even sure.
Considering someone told me ACOTAR was considered a YA book.
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oc-rp-ads · 1 year
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Hi! 19F looking for a double oc x canon slot or two, this is open until either this ask is deleted or OP comes back to haunt the comments and close it lmao. I range semi-lit to literate, I'm not looking to type novels for responses as I'm just getting back into the hobby. I'm in the EST timezone and heavily prefer to write on Discord.
I have quite an extensive list of fandoms I'd be down to write for, which includes but is not limited to: Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul, Avatar: The Last Airbender/Legend of Korra, Horizon Zero Dawn/Frozen Wilds/Forbidden West, The Outsiders, What We Do in the Shadows (2014), TWD (show up to s8), Reign (up to s2 rn), MCU/X-Men/Sonyverse, That 70s Show, Hamilton, Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts, Soul Eater (anime), American Horror Story (1-5/7-8 only), a hell of a lot of Disney (Treasure Planet, Hunchback, Atlantis too), Star Wars, and I'll even roleplay Riverdale because the plots get real lit haha.
Yes I know Stranger Things but am not looking to write it atm, I'm sorry.
My pairing will likely be bxg, but I can do anything for yours! Just nothing illegal and no odd/large age gaps pls. I also do not write out smut scenes, especially for minor-aged characters. Fandoms can also be different for our pairings! <3 I also do NOT do roleplays as real-life people/celebrities.
Please be 18/19+ to reach out for a roleplay, which you can do by simply interacting. Like this post and/or comment your fandom of choice if you'd like, and I'll reach out! :)
!
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cobwebgf · 7 months
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Who wants to read my sapphic short story when I’m done with it?🫣 I need feedback
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Good Omens Fic Rec: Postcards From Paris
Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.
Length: 12,331 words
AO3 Rating: General Audiences
Best for: Safe in Public, Pick-Me-Up, Fluff, Human AU
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
*Minor Spoilers* I am hurrying to write this post before it hits midnight in Australia so that I can say HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mrghostrat!!! Bilvy is one of my favorite creators here, not only for their amazing art but because they back it up with excellent writing every time. I genuinely am so impressed with the amount of work they do, I can't imagine how it all gets done so quickly with this level of quality. Thank you for all that you do, and I hope that you had a great birthday!
Anyway, you're here for the story! For it's length, this is such a rich story. You quickly fall into this world as our anxious and lonely Crowley starts receiving postcards that belonged to the previous tenant from the mysterious A.Z.F. Soon he starts writing back, and well, you can guess how it'll go. What Bilvy does so well, is take some pretty standard romance tropes and finds a way to do them uniquely and at 100. Every one of their stories feels like it could be a real rom-com and I mean that as a compliment. The pacing, the dialogue, the little details all come together and make their stories so engaging.
This is such a sweet treat, it's a perfect pick-me-up. You just can't help being charmed by this story. Completely safe in public, the only thing you'll need to worry about is how much you'll be smiling during this. Happy Birthday Bilvy, we're so lucky to have you!
I can't post about them until they are finished, but you guys should also be reading Big Name Feelings and And They Were Streamers! They're so good!
Read it here, fic by ghostrat
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elwiw · 1 year
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I like watching misunderstood men struggling to defend their truth. Very relatable
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miasanmannschaft · 1 year
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I don’t like to use the word ‘mid’ but this WC is so very mid.
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devilry-revelry · 11 months
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Untitled - Male Orc x Female Human (Part 4)
OOPS I TRIPPED.
Not lemon, but maybe lemon zest?
Minors Do Not Interact
This marks the original concept/story for these two. First story was Riley worrying about stuff and things. Names may have changed since then. It's hard to remember. Ya know, because I deleted everything.
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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
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“Fuck,” Arzok snickered. He sounded absolutely winded from all of the laughter. “I’m not just going to ram it in and hope for the best, Riley. I promise you, we’ll fit together just fine.”
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Riley’s curiosity was a dirty little bitch; a needy insatiable little whore.
Four weeks, and seven dates had left Riley’s baser urges feeling frayed and restless. After their second date they had shared the first kiss, and had since enjoyed a bit of necking. It was during their last date when their kisses turned downright sinful. Sitting in the car outside of her apartment in the middle of the night, Arzok’s hand clasped around her throat, the other slipping up her skirt as his tongue dominated her mouth. He’d teased her for just a moment, thick fingers tracing a slow path over the cleft of her pussy before he completely withdrew and bid her goodnight. Riley had been a mess ever since then. Any attempts to ease the tension Arzok had created left her feeling bereft and wanting. His had been such a strong, and commanding presence. Fiddling around with her vibrator didn’t do her any favors. 
And that’s where her dirty, dirty curiosity came in. 
Riley couldn’t help but think that her and Arzok’s first time together would be coming up soon. They had discussed her staying at his place for a weekend. Planning was still tentative at best but it was something they talked about with increased frequency. Arzok lived a little over thirty minutes outside of town, and while he claimed that the commute wasn’t any trouble, they had both agreed that a relaxing weekend without all of the typical date-night run around would be a nice change of pace. That, of course, meant that Riley would be staying at Arzok’s house and, sure, she could sleep on the couch or in a spare room, but she probably wouldn’t. Sex or not. Because they were adults. And they were dating. 
But those thoughts took a hard turn and she had been stuck with thinking about what she should expect were she to sleep with Arzok. He had mentioned that he was dominant and controlling, but what else should she anticipate? Arzok was big. Huge. He dwarfed her by nearly two feet and Riley was on the taller side of average. He was broad, and he was strong, but what about the rest? Short of just coming out and asking Arzok “hey, how big are orc dicks?” her only real avenue of getting that information was the internet. 
And that’s where Riley’s curiosity turned into a dirty, insatiable, little tramp. 
The initial search was a simple request on average sizes, but then a few videos showed up. The first video Riley stumbled into involved a beast of an orc, his height easily breaching the eight foot mark. He was paired with a petite, tiny little woman. The orc’s dick was bigger than Riley’s whole forearm, and while the pornstar took it like an absolute champion, Riley was aghast. It was porn so of course there were so many degrees of separation, but there was no way. No. Way. One video chased another in an effort to debunk the sudden theory that orc men were just obscenely massive in the pants department. Absolutely nothing was debunked. She’d even tried narrowing down her search, but it yielded no results. Instead, Riley had somehow ended up on orc-human BDSM play – and that was how Arzok’s phone call found her: stunned, horrified, whole-heartedly curious, and completely dejected. 
Riley didn’t process the first ring. She was far too engrossed in what was going on on the screen. On the second ring, she had a whole body reaction like he just walked in the door and caught her personally. Riley yelped - actually yelped - and slapped at her keyboard to pause the video. Then she abandoned the laptop on her coffee table and retreated to her bedroom as if getting away from the laptop would hide the evidence of her insatiable curiosity. She even closed her bedroom door. Locked it. 
“H-hi-llo–?” Hillo. Jesus. C’mon Riley. 
“Hey, baby,” Arzok said. His voice was low, and sleepy-quiet. He had informed her earlier that day that he wouldn’t be getting home from a work-thing until late. Nearing midnight, he sounded absolutely knackered. The growling rasp that was always in his voice was more prominent with his fatigue. Riley couldn’t help but like the idea of hearing him sound like that in person, grumbling sleepy good mornings. “I was just calling to say goodnight.” 
“I won’t keep you then,” Riley replied. Her voice matched the quiet pitch so as not to rouse him. “Did everything go okay, though?”
“Don’t know, and right now I’m too fucking tired to care,” he groused. Riley was able to pick up the teasing inflection of his words despite his bitter tone. “How about you? How was your night? What’re you still doing up?” 
“Oh it was fine,” Riley replied quickly. 
Arzok asked again, “What are you still doing up? You’re usually down for the count by now. Is everything okay?”
The heated flush that rushed into her cheeks felt as if her own body was trying to betray her. She moved away from the bedroom door to sit on the edge of her bed, then she flopped to her back. She hated that he was right. Riley was typically curled up, in bed, and on the verge of sleep by 9:30 most weeknights.
“Oh, everything is fine. I just… lost track of time.”
“Yeah? Doing what?” 
His question didn’t feel as if he was prying. He sounded genuine in his interest. Riley worried her lower lip, wishing that she had curiously looked up videos on how to knit or crochet. 
“Nothing. Just…” The idea of lying left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. So she skirted the details and addressed it in broad strokes. “I’ve just been thinking. It’s really nothing crazy though. But, hey, why don’t we both go to bed and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”
“The fuck we will. What’s wrong, what happened? Is everything alright?” The sleepy timber of his voice was gone, and he now sounded wide awake, and bordering on frantic. 
“It’s literally nothing to worry about. I promise–”
“Riley.”
“Fine just… Just don’t make fun of me, alright?”
“Never. Just talk to me, baby. You’re freaking me out. ‘I’ve been thinking’ sounds like a goddamn death sentence.”
Riley sucked in a slow breath, held it, and released. She tried to control the swell of stinging, hot, embarrassment. She had thought about it so much that it worried her, which drove her to the internet, which worried her more. The fact that she had thought about it enough that she was driven to consult the internet was so stupid–
“Riley, sweetling, come on.”
“Okay, okay.” She babbled, “You have to promise not to make fun of me though, alright?”
“I already said I wouldn’t. Look, if you don’t tell me I’ll drive over there and–”
“Whatifyoudon’tfit?”
“Fucking what?”
I said,” she heaved another heavy breath. “What if… you don’t… fit?”
Silence. Quiet, deafening, silence. Riley waited with baited breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything. It felt as if the quiet stretched on for an eternity before a hint of sound broke through. It was barely there. Muffled. There was a sound like a snort, and then another–
“Don’t you laugh at me, you monster!”
The laughter came through full force suddenly. It was loud, booming, jovial. Riley could imagine him; his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut tight as he succumbed to it. Imagining him laughing made Riley’s mood darken. He was making fun of her, but he was beautiful when he laughed. The bastard. 
“I–I’m not–I–” His efforts to calm himself only seemed to make the situation that much worse. 
Riley sat up in bed, glaring daggers at her bedroom wall. “Hey, I’m serious!”
Arzok’s rolling laughter slipped into its decline, and eventually he said, “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re–you’re up this late worrying about whether or not my dick will fit–?”
“Yes!” Riley wailed. “I am! Look, I know it’s dumb, but I like you a lot. And if this whole thing doesn’t work out because you have a third arm–” Arzok cackled. “--then that’s really going to suck.”
“Fuck,” Arzok snickered. He sounded absolutely winded from all of the laughter. “I’m not just going to ram it in and hope for the best, Riley. I promise you, we’ll fit together just fine.”
Riley grumbled morosely through his reassurance, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to hide under her bed for the next century. She should have known better than to let her curiosity win. And on top of it, she sure as shit shouldn’t have been data collecting by watching pornography. Even if it was mostly accidental, once she started it was hard to look away and she fell down the rabbit hole. 
“Sweetling,” Arzok growled. “When we are ready to take that step, I’m going to take pleasure in making sure you’re good and ready to take me.”
His voice cut her grumbles short, and she fell into surprised silence. She sucked in a quick breath, searched for a reply, and managed an airy and incredibly eloquent, “Oh.”
“And I’ll make damn sure that you enjoy every fucking second of it, baby.”
The low rasping purr of his voice was warming her in ways that the insane porn videos didn’t. This was for her. She crumbled back into the bed and let her eyes close as he spoke. She imagined lying beside him as he made his dark promises, and that familiar want that had been plaguing her began to flood her system. 
“I’ve thought about you cumming on my tongue as I prepare you to take my cock. Would you like that?”
Riley shivered. The ache in her core assaulted her with no mercy. She could feel her pulse leap in her sex, and the sensations resonated through her body, making her toes curl. 
“I asked you a question, Riley. You will answer me.” Arzok’s tone dipped lower still. It was suddenly threatening in a way that Riley liked far too much. 
She pressed her thighs together, and hummed her agreement. 
“No. You will answer me. Use your words.”
“Yes…” she whispered feebly, feeling more heat gather in the apples of her cheeks. The heat seemed like it was everywhere now, emphasizing her timidities, and fueling the fire he had created with just his voice. 
“Good. Now stop worrying about this shit, you hear me?” The way the threatening rumble of his voice shifted into something entirely casual and bordering on playful smacked into Riley like a Mack truck. The spreading fire was doused with a bucket of water. Her eyes popped open to stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. “I don’t know who got into your head and told you we wouldn’t work, but we will. I can’t tell you how I know that, but I look at you and I can feel it in my goddamn chest. We’ll work. Promise me that you’ll give us a chance before you let someone convince you that we won’t. I–”
“It wasn’t anybody,” Riley said gently. She had initially been willing to let him ride with the assumption that an actual person had stirred up her concerns. Now she didn’t want him to think that she was willingly associating with someone who was trying to cause problems with their relationship. That wasn’t fair. 
“Then what did it? Do I need to slow down? I will…”
“No,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “The only reason I was thinking about it is because I’m-I’m looking forward to it. But… Okay, you can’t make fun of me this time.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“I assure you, it is. No laughing.”
“No promises.” When she didn’t immediately reply, Arzok pushed onward. “Can you tell me so I’ll stop worrying about it?”
Riley rolled so she could suffocate herself with the pillows in the event that the humiliation proved to be too much. 
“I watched porn, okay?” I watched dirty, filthy, orc-on-human porn and I regret it! Stop laughing–!” He did not stop laughing. “Alright. Well, I’m going to go walk into the ocean now. Goodnight!” 
“Baby, what the fuck?” He was still coming off his most recent bout of laughter. “Wh-why?”
Riley shoved her face into her pillows, mumbling a muffled reply, “Can we stop talking about it?”
“I will never stop talking about it. Fucking wow.”
What a nightmare of a night. If she managed to get to sleep after all of this, she was going to wake up still embarrassed. 
“I’m assuming I don’t need to explain why porn isn’t the most reliable source.”
A mumble of agreement. 
“All of this worrying because some pornstar with a monstercock spooked you,” he said good naturedly. 
“Stop.”
“Alright, alright. I’m done. No more orc porn though, got it?”
“Got it.”
They elapsed into silence, but it felt like Arzok was smiling like an idiot. Riley felt it in her heart. She glowered and mumbled about going to bed. He agreed, and she was almost completely certain she could hear him smiling. 
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Almost as soon as they hung up, her phone buzzed once, twice, three times. Three text messages. All from him. Two were images. 
First there was a picture of his face. His torso was bare, his arm curled around a pillow as his dark eyes stared into the camera. His inky hair was splayed out over his big gorgeous shoulders and white sheets. Riley smiled, simply staring into his eyes for a moment.
The text read: 
> Just so you can get an idea of what you’re working with. 
The angle of the picture came from somewhere over his head. It started just at the bottom of his chin, and it went down, down, down over his splayed chest, his stomach, his waist, to the tops of his thighs where the sheet was precariously bunched. His green skin offered a stark, beautiful contrast against the pristine bedding. Basked in warm lamp light, the contours of muscle were highlighted from his pectorals, all the way down to the tantalizing V of his hips. One of his hands was resting over his navel, and she followed the strong musculature of his tattooed arm down, and up, and down again. Riley’s eyes caught on the smattering of dark hair that met the sheet.
That awful (wonderful) orc.
Another buzz. Another message. 
> Sleep sweet, Riley.
[Part 5]
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rosasbi · 2 years
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paul hollywood is always dressed as plain as his taste
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i really love it when people here are “not normal” about the things they love. yes!! break down the scene that you’ve been obsessing over for weeks! create incredibly intricate theories based on a few throwaway lines! explain why you love this character so much—458 reasons and counting, and with visual aids! i love to see people putting their heart and soul into not being normal!!!
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daz4i · 8 months
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nikolai
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nikolai
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oc-rp-ads · 2 years
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Hey hey! Twenty three year old female writer here searching for some clean NON sexual epic fandom rps. My alias is Rosalie it was the name of my first ever oc! So feel feee to call me that!:). I’m an advanced literate writer seeking other advanced literate adult writers to work with, please be 18+. I seek those of you who can use third person, past tense and detail. I’m looking for oc (me) and canon (you) pairings and I do only do fandom roleplays. The fandoms I’m looking for will be listed. I can double but it is getting exhausting and ideally I’d love to find a few stories focusing just on my oc. However I am eager to find some new people to write with and will double if necessary. The fandoms I’m searching for are in order of preference: Buffy The Vampire Slayer (Spike or Angel),Twilight (Jacob or Edward), Merlin (Arthur, Lancelot or Merlin ❤️❤️) Pirates of the Caribbean (Will or Jack), Teen Wolf (Stiles), Divergent (Four), Hunger Games (Finn or Gale), Bates Motel (Dylan or Alex), The originals (Elijah, Klaus or Kol), and The Vampire Diaries (Damon Stefan, Alaric) . If you’re interested add me on discord or kik at RosalieMikaelson#7670 and FandomNerd2020 please state your age, where you added me from and who you can play! Send me a 🌺 to prove you read this!
RosalieMikaelson#7670
FandomNerd2020
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