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quicktosimp · 8 months

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Complete

Kinktober Day 10

Ronal/Human!Reader/Tonowari

A/N: It took me a little while to get into this one, but I honestly like how it came out

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Knife Kink, Blood Kink, Ritualistic Setting, Hilt Fucking

Thank you @pandoraslxna for putting this together for all of us 💕

“Tawtute, it is time for us to return,” Ronal whispers.

I give a small whine, not wanting to leave the comfortable spot between Ronal and Tonowari.

“I know, Tawtute, I do not want to leave, but we must complete the trial before dawn,” Tonowari whispers, kissing the mark Ronal left on my ear.

I roll over onto my back, “I know, my loves. I’m just happy to be between you both right now. But you are right, we must finish. Let us begin.” I explain.

“The moment you are placed in the center, the trial will start. Be strong, Sumtsyìp. It is almost finished.” Ronal mutters, her lips grazing mine.

The two of them cuddle me to them in a thigh hug, both laying a kiss on my head before they separate. Leaving me on the mat, I shiver from the cold, the breeze from the cold air breezing along my naked skin. It is Tonowari’s arms that lift me, cradling me to his chest. The ornaments he wears, decorating him as Olo’eyktan, brush the top of my head. This trail requires the proper regalia. Knowing that both of them are fully clothed, while I am wearing nothing more than a blindfold and the trial cloths, brings warmth to my core. Tonowari places me on what feels like the same stool as before. Putting my heels so they are next to my ass, holding me open as my knees splayed wide. Bared to the cove.

“Look at this,” Ronal mutters, “Our tawtute has already made a mess. Even after we took our time to clean her.”

I blush; I swear I can feel her stare on my core.

Chuckling, I hear Tonowari in front of me, maybe next to Ronal, “She is eager for us. That is why we are here. She has won our attention, and now here she is, bared for us, fighting for our mateship.”

A lone finger drags through my folds, now covered in my slick, before the touch is gone. Ronal moans in the distance before a wet pop sound comes from their direction.

“The Tawtute tastes delicious; you should try it,” Tonowari mentioned.

Two large hands grip my thighs, carefully avoiding the wrapped cloths with the delicate sea shells. A breath hits my cunt, before something warm and wet licks from my hole to my clit. Then there was nothing.

“Perfect,” Ronal remarked. “And to think that soon this will be all ours, whenever we wish.”

“It will be like when my rut and your heat were synced. Never able to stop, nothing but pleasure for three weeks straight, unable to leave our marui. She will be open at all times; the tawtute will not need to be prepared, I will just sink in.” Tonowari mentions.

“Do you think the tawtute can handle that? She is tiny and weak. She won't last past the third round before passing out. That’s as long as she doesn’t meet your cock before then. You will split her open. I doubt she will ever be tight again… at least by human standards.” Ronal trails off.

A booming laugh escapes Tonowari, “No, once we are mated, she will forever be ruined for humans.”

Cutting Tonowari off, “We are getting ahead of ourselves. We must finish this before dawn.” I hear Ronal move away.

“No, you aren’t eager at all.” His voice was teasing, “I know you’ve been waiting for this since the moment we started this.”

“Hush you.” She counters.

I am still stuck in silence as I sit there as they talk about me as if I wasn’t there. But I racked my brain for any idea of what could excite Ronal so much. Ronal’s list of kinks is extensive, but I know she loves to be rough. Leaving the marks of her teeth on Tonowari, or I, is her biggest one. The blood on her teeth is like an aphrodisiac to her, and seeing the marks throughout the day is a guaranteed late night. Humans heal slower than na’vi do. It's perfect for her to leave her marks on me and to see them last for weeks.

Something flat and cold rubs over the bottom of my foot. I cannot tell what it is. There are groves, no, it feels like divots on the object. It's just so cold it feels like draining the cold out of my body.

“Do you know what it is, tawtute?” Ronal asks.

I resist shaking my head as it would sound the shells.

“It’s one of my favorites. While it’s necessary for the trial, I hope you enjoy it.” The object trails up my calf and passes my knee. ”Tonowari never liked to be on the receiving end. It does not bother me. I will never force either of you to do something you don’t want. But if you enjoy this, you will never be unmarked.” The flat object turned, and it was sharp.

I knew what it was. I had seen Ronal and Tonowari working on it, never letting me get a close look at it. But I knew what they were making. It was Metkayina tradition that you were to make your mate a blade forged of the ocean's obsidian crystals. A material that is strong enough to use in battle but sharp enough to remove every scale off a fish. The blade is too small to be either of theirs. This is my blade. My blade will be used for the last trial.

“It’s beautiful. We made sure it fit you perfectly. It was difficult getting the size suitable to fit your tiny hands.” Tonowari admitted.

The sharp point now dug into the inner part of my thigh. The burn was shallow, enticing as it dragged down towards my knee. I stilled the gasp that threatened to come out of me. The feeling of a knife sliding near my sensitive parts, the stinging pain, the welling of my blood sliding down my legs, my heart racing, and the need building in my core. The knife is removed from my thigh, and Ronal moves around to my back. The knife is placed between my shoulder blades and loops downwards, moving from right to left. The stinging burn follows after the tip of the blade. Each twist and turn of the knife fuels the desire in my core. I want to wiggle and writhe to ease the aching. But I remain still. As Ronal continues tracing my back, Tonowari steps forward and enters a finger into my cunt.

“Ma Ronal, you have gotten lucky. Our tawtute is soaked. She has a pool of her slick under her. I did not even have to ease my finger in. Her cunt swallowed it.” His finger worked in and out before removing it entirely.

“Eywa has chosen her for us,” Ronal mutters reverently, her work on my back never ceasing.

My cunt clenches to the rhythm of my heartbeat, my need building as the two tease me. I do not fear the blade, as I do not fear Ronal. I do not flinch or shy away, but I want more.

“She is getting desperate. Her cunt is needy; I can see it clenching around nothing. It is begging to be filled.” Tonowari commented, amused.

“That is not something tawtute should be worried about right now.” Ronal sounds pleased.

Ronal eases the knife away from my back, ending the movement of her blade. I can feel her breath on the skin of my back.

“Ronal! Hold yourself! You may not interrupt this part of the trial!” Tonowari scolds. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had never heard him use that tone of voice before.

I feel her huff against my skin, blowing on the open wounds, before walking away.

“I am sorry for shouting tìyawn. But if you interfered, then we would have failed. “ Tonowari explains, his voice soft, “Soon, we will all be able to explore as we wish.” The sounds of their lips meeting reach my ears, making my cunt pule even more.

“No more teasing, Ronal. Finish your work.” He orders.

I hear Ronal’s feet spot in front of me, and the blade returns at my right hip. It swirls up and over my stomach, following a pattern that I cannot understand. It continues further up onto my right breast. I choke back gaps from the blade on my breast; the pain is much worse here. As the knife nears my nipple, I hold my breath as tears fall from my eyes. The pressure on the blade lightens, no longer cutting my skin. That’s when the blade tip rests on my nipple, the point resting on my stiff peek. My heart is racing under my skin, and my cunt is throbbing. It doesn’t stop as I wait. Wait for the blade to cut, to leave, for anything. The blade leaves my nipple before returning to my left hip, beginning the process all over again.

“That was perfect.” I hear Tonowari whisper.

The knife mirrors the same trail as before, but it does not linger on my breast, inested moving just above, right above my heart, and then it is gone.

“The marks are perfect. It is just the finishing now.” Ronal explains.

My head feels numb. All I can think of is the stinging of the cuts and the throbbing in my cunt. Something cold enters into my cunt, something sticky mixes with the wetness of my pussy. It’s curved and smooth. Gliding into my cunt with no resistance. Only stopping when Ronal’s hand rests against my folds.

“It fits perfectly,” Tonowari mutters, amazed.

“I told you, Wari, I knew how big to make the handle.”

I clench hard on the handle of my blade, knowing that it’s inside my pussy, the sharp edge so close to slipping inside. Yet, it makes me yearn for even more. The handle leaves my pussy before sliding back in, and this repeats over and over again as Ronal fucks me with the handle. Every nerve is buzzing, needing a release. My body is as tense as it can be, but the speed of the handle does not change.

“Cum for us tawtute. As soon as you cum it is finished.” Ronal demanded, but I was not there. Not nearly close enough to my high in order to cum properly.

I feel warmth on my back, not quite touching, “You’re so close for us, tawtute, but we cannot touch you in any other way. You can only cum from the handle of your blade in your tight hole.” Tonowari’s deep voice growled.

The angle of the blade changed, hitting a new spot in my cunt, the soft spot being railed as my wetness squelches into the silent night. The new angle made everything better, and the speed was perfect. I came. My toes curled, and my body became tight as my high hit me. Ronal never stopped thrusting, the pleasure bordering on pain, but it was still so good. The sound of water falling hit my ears, but I couldn't understand where it was coming from.

Ronal eased the handle out of me, “I did not know that a tawtute could do that,” She whispered.

Together, they cleaned me up; gentle hands cleaned my wounds as the cloths were removed from my body. Even the natural lights were harsh on my eyes as they removed my blindfold. I look at the marks Ronal left, and I see the story they tell. It is the symbols of love and devotion, the same patterns I wished to get once I was accepted as Metkayina, what I wanted for my tattoo.

“Are they correct?” Tonowari asked.

“They’re perfect,”

#avatar #lunaskinktober2023 #atwow #avatar way of water #kinktober #smut #ronal x you #ronal x reader #tonowari x ronal #ronal avatar #tonowari x you #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader

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mintys-musings · 9 months

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A penny for your Kanata thoughts?? 🐠

oh hello👁️💚 !! a penny isn't needed i can provide some of my kanata thoughts ^u^

NSFW under cut~

he's not particularly interested not disinterested in sex. he'll definitely be curious if you initiate

for kanata, i don't think sex has been a thing he has registered as a truly intimate act? i think he sees it as just another primal urge. also a ritualistic thing. for obvious reasons. also because i think thats an interesting scenario and honestly it haunts me a little with characters like kanata.

let me be clear though, he doesnt like ritualistic sex

he knows that intimacy might be important to some, but he's so unfamiliar with that aspect of it. like he knows what sex is and generally what you're supposed to do, but theory and practice are teo different things

surprisingly rough, i imagine. kanata is very interesting to me because he's surprisingly strong and brutal despite his soft appearance. again, all he knows is theory and what he's seen in books and told about. so he ends up kind of rough thinking that this is like a linear step-by-step process. forgive him and guide him. he'll get better

unsurprisingly he likes having sex by the pool or in the tub. Makes cleaning up after much easier and the water relaxes him so it helps in getting comfortable.

kanata 1000% is into cuddle fucking. he likes burying his face into the crook of his lover's neck while doing so

tops more than you would think. though sometimes he gets in a bratty mood and refuses to do anything but lay there

bratty kanata needs a brat tamer ^^ just a thought

he doesn't jerk off really unless it's like a poblem. he'd much rather call over his lover to help him. if they're not available, he'd just do it himself out of necessity, but he doesn't think it's fun that way

he prefers semi-clothed sex. he'd just remove what is necessary to get right down to it. though, if he starts overheating, he'll take off more layers

kanata takes his time once he finally figures out what he's into/what level of rough or soft you both like. foreplay king ngl

he's a biter. he leaves bite marks. i just know he does

#Minty Answers #kanata shinkai thirst #kanata shinkai hcs #kanata shinkai smut #Minty's Musings #listen. right. ritualistic sex...#something about it is so... interesting to me as a prompt and concept #omg this is the first post ive written about kanata i think wow

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sanguine-salvation · 4 months

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RP MUSE VALENTINE’S APPLICATION.

your name: Eliza

Romantic or platonic?: Romantic

A night in or dinner out or an activity?: Night in

Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: Strawberries

What's your perfect date?: Relaxing at home with a movie

Would you cook for me?: Yes

Would you let me cook for you?: Yes

Can we make-out?: Oh yes~

Make out in private or in public?: Depends....

Do you like to cuddle?: Oh yeah

Blankets or no blankets for cuddling?: Yes blanket

Couch or bed?: Both

What are at least 3 hobbies of yours?: Cooking, gardening, taxidermy

Tell me something about you no else knows: I'm really good at darts

Why do you want to be my valentine?: Because you are my blade~

What makes you a good Valentine?: I'm very soft and kissable

[ Valentine’s Applications - ACCEPTING ]

The brightness of their smile as they look over the application. Their dearest rose. Sometimes they're not sure how they got wrapped up in it all. Was it some part of them that yearned for it against what they should want? Was it part of them that somehow never died? No.

Was it just because Eliza made them feel achingly alive, like blissfully pressing into a bruise because it reminded you that you could still feel? Or was it just... what it was? That they found themself enraptured by all the tiny parts of her that made the whole, like the intricacy of a spiderweb?

Maybe it was silly for an angel of death, one still sore and bloodied on the leg from their last good deed, to so desperately want an... ease like this. A warmth like this. A... love like this. Stupid. Yes. Selfish. Yes. Worthless. Y...

They paused. The answer didn't come so ritualistically easy anymore as they read the words. They shook themself from the reverie only to realize they'd been smiling without realizing it.

"It can't be Valentine's without my rose, can it?" And maybe they were musing about the forbidden simplicity of a couch, a movie, a blanket, and maybe listening to her talk about taxidermy with that glittering passion she always got.

#i have a place for you || answered #dance with || the arkham librarian #// Viktor continuing to accept that they are what they are and someone like Eliza still wants them is hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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intricatepuckrituals · 9 months

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okay y'all, i understand not everyone is that familiar with being a self indulgent fag with a scent kink that likes to lick their bear of a boyf's armpits all the time. i get it! but!

if you want to convince me that an a/b/o universe is one in which scent and taste and spit and fucking high functioning chemoreceptors etc. are EVEN MORE! normcore than they are now, you are going to have to go harder with what these a/b/o characters consider kinky than just some like cuddling and sniffing and tongue to skin. you are going to have to GET EXCEPTIONALLY NASTY AND UNHINGED in a wild way. like ur telling me that humans have INCREASED OLFACTORY SENSES AND IT GUIDES A SIGNIFICANT PORTION OF THEIR HABITS AND THEIR SOCIAL STRUCTURE but the most intense thing they think of is just a little taste test? people do that all the time without those senses, fronds!

let's get freaky with it.

give them some normalized public piss kink. give them some ritualistic blood play. give them giving each other hickies all down their neck and chest and sides and love handles and groin and cock itself as just like. buddy activities. so maybe ! they fucking exchange bottles of slick/come when dating someone to give them a long distance person their scent for heat or rut - then how are the bottles collected? maybe rut makes alphas really violent and they have to be tied down and ridden for days by multiple omegas. give them some trans alphas whose scent fucking slaps someone in the face and makes them woozy and makes them salivate uncontrollably. give them intersexuality and gender ambiguity. give betas weird attributes of BOTH alphas and omegas in inconsistent ways. give them all weird biology where the spit is thicker than normal and tongues are longer and able to wrap around knots for knotjobs or what the fuck ever. maybe people run at different temperatures and that effects their scent and the solidifing properties of their oil, their spit, their come and people kink of different textures and how it feels on their tastebuds. people have glans that leak oil when they get aroused and some folks kink on piercing play w them. maybe people scent mark each other all the time and teams begin to all smell alike because of proximity and shared sweat and blood and showers. let scent be a whole world for these people in a way that is tangible and visible and something they bite down on and wring for all its worth. etc. etc. go wild with it!

give them weird out-there shit as their own normcore ! or else its just two guys from a club downtown who sniff each other up.

okay? okay. ty 4 coming to another intricate ritual talk.

#fandom talk #a/b/o #tbjfnfigjg #fic talk #not @ing anyone #just thoughts i am having and wish we saw more of !#my talk

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lordkambe · 4 years

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looking forward to the chrollo drabble i know it's going to be great! if it's possible for you to write up some nsfw headcanons about him... i'd be so grateful

⛓ title, type: chrollo nsfw headcanons, request.

⛓ character, fandom, type of reader: chrollo lucifer, hunterxhunter, a mix of gender neutral and woman reader.

⛓ genre, rating: mature. nsfw, 18+ only.

⛓ themes, triggers: very brief hisoka mention, soft dom/sub, knife play, implied humiliation, public sex, voyeurism, slight degradation.

⛓ author’s note: firstly, thanks so much for requesting ! secondly, the drabble i am working on his #filthy so you’re in luck ! i hope you enjoy this and please don’t hesitate to send in more requests especially for the #adultrio i love those boys sooo much !

+ when it's planned, sex with chrollo is almost ritualistic. he really believes in "setting" the mood. expect silk sheets, candle lights, rose petals, and of course champange. along with this #aesthetic i'm positive he likes doing the deed in large spaces. he likes hearing your moans echo throughout the room.

+ he likes... accessories and probably will instruct you on what to wear. he likes lace lingerie because it revealing but still makes you wonder what's underneath. collars, cuffs, and leashes are introduced if you're comfortable with it.

+ he has a "toy box" ranging from vibrators and butt plugs to chains and whips. all of which are introduced to you slowly. but if you decide to quicken the pace or show avid interest, he won't hesitate to bring out the ball-gags and paddles.

+ he's a romantic dominant, a rom dom if you will. he's rough and kinky but veeeerrrrry romantic. he kisses you generously and all over. he enjoys your affirmation, "i belong to you." "nobody can fuck me like you."

+ | knife play tw | sometimes he likes to push the envelope just to see what happens. of course he asks you beforehand. i think he'd be the type to be into knife play. like he would run a blade between your breasts or across your thigh. the same place the blade runs across the skin, he licks it. | knife play tw end |

+ if you're relationship is public, he's very reserved with you. a true gentleman and you also share the same grace. but let's say he's horny, yeah? he won't hesitate to whisper in your ear about his fantasies. "i wish i could bend you over this table and fuck you so hard. everyone seeing that cute little fucked face of yours would be such a treat."

+ speaking of public sex ;) he has a thing for renting hotel suites with large windows to fuck you against ( yes i'm writing a drabble on this ) he fucks you so mercilessly and as he does he reminds you how beautiful you are.

+ he likes to show you off so you two go out often before you do he puts a butt plug in you or !!!! one of those bullet vibrators that's controlled by an app on his phone. he likes the second one the best because god, he loves teasing you and sometimes it turns into humiliation. he comes back with those whispers, "are you imagining my cock in you right now? just thrusting in and out of your wet fucking cunt." you’re shocked that such an ELOQUENT man can be so.... filthy.

+ i'm not so sure about this one but given that he's the type of person to let people know "how good he is" at something, he likes fucking you in front of other people. probably hisoka. yeah, hisoka. let's go with that. but yeah he’ll probably make hisoka sit on a chair parallel to you two and say some shit like “look how good i can fuck them.”

+ one thing I AM sure about is MIRROR SEX ! he's fucking you from behind and holds your neck up so you can see him fuck you in the mirror. "such a pretty fucked out face."

+ when you’re loud ?? he goes insane. just an incoherent, slobbering mess as he fucks you drives him crazy. he probably holds you really close, gives you EYE CONTACT, and says that you belong to him.

+ possessive with you. his pet names are always like “my love” or “my princess.”

+ enjoys watching you pleasure yourself. “put in another finger i know you can handle it.”

+ not only does this man have a big dick he’s got great hands. fingering you is his favorite past time tbh. he’s fascinated by how he can make you cum with his fingers alone.

+ since he’s really into pleasuring you, he won’t initiate a blowjob but if you insist he won’t refuse. he likes running your fingers through your hair, giving you praises, he moans sweetly because he knows it makes you happy. then he’ll politely ask if he can just ram his dick in your mouth. a true gentleman.

+ to end this before it gets too long </3 after care is just as important as the deed itself. he draws you a bath and carries you into it. he’ll sit outside the bath and run the water across your body. if you have bruises or any marks, he’ll heal them. he carries you to bed and makes sure you’re all nice and cozy. a total cuddle monster no doubt about it.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo smut #hxh chrollo #hxh smut #hxh x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer smut #adult trio #tm.#cl.#hxh.#nsfw.#hcs.

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nightwishesworld · 3 years

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Morning Wood

Finally, I can take this sticky note off my wall! So sorry it took so long my friend, I've been buried in requests haha

BIG OL' NSFW WARNING

*******************************************************************************************

Alcina’s bleary eyes slowly opened to the sound of soft snoring. Next to her, you slept cocooned in comfort. It was a blessing being able to wake up to such a pretty face, Alcina thought. Something was off this morning though she wasn’t awake enough to realize what it was. Alcina sat up, rubbing the crust off her eyes.

She felt hot. As if her blood was rushing through her. With a quick glance down, she quickly acknowledged the issue. The huge tent in the blanket made it very obvious. Alcina groaned, palming her head.

“Well that’s just fantastic,” she groaned.

Alcina considered her options. She could either take a cold bath or take care of it herself. Something told her a shower won’t cut it today. She’s already temped to abandon the bathroom all together and just get rid of it here. Then afterwards she can cuddle you and go right back to sleep.

She turned to watch you as you slept blissfully unaware of her conundrum. The last thing she wants to do is wake you up because of something as stupid as this.

Her hand wraps around the base of her shaft and starts herself off slow. The grip was loose at first and making a languid pattern of up and down motions.

You stir awake to the sounds of hushed grunting next to you. Through bleary eyes you could just make out Alcina’s form propped up on her pillow. It’s obvious what she’s doing. It’s been happening a lot as of late, not that you were totally complaining. Alcina found it incredibly embarrassing the more it happened. Most mornings she would relieve herself in the bathroom. It seems today that was just too long of a walk.

A loud groan pulled you out of your dreamy state. Alcina’s hands were shaking, her breathing even harsher and heavier than before.

Oh, she’s hit a wall.

It was the worst feeling, being so close to having what was just out of reach. It filled you with such a visceral sympathy you broke your silence. “Al?”

Her eyes go wide and she turns to you, but never relents under the sheets. “I’m sorry, Dove, did I wake you?”

You sit up and stretch, letting out a big yawn. “No, don’t worry. I was gonna ask how you slept, but I think I already know the answer.”

“I’m sorry. I was hoping to have dealt with it before you woke up.”

You chuckle and simply take in the sight of the ever elegant Alcina Dimitrescu servicing herself in bed. “Need a hand?”

A much smaller hand finds its way on top of Alcina’s. You don’t bother waiting for a response as you bat her hand away completely.

After a few minutes of this light, almost teasing grip, you tightened your grip until you had her erection in a firm squeeze, your free hand digging into her thigh. You kept your pace slow and measured for a while longer, though, rationing out each new increase in pleasure only when you had exhausted the last one. Then you started to pick up the pace, and now the quiet hums and moans would rise up from the back of Alcina’s throat.

“Get the lubricant, p-please. I need more.”

You bit back the desire to ask if she really needed any lube. She was already dripping and slick with precum. But if that’s what she wanted who were you to disobey? You grabbed the fruity scented bottle out of the bedside drawer and massaged it between your hands.

Alcina had already picked up where you left off, her pace much faster and desperate than yours. Instead of batting her away again you grab her wrist.

“If you don’t behave yourself I won’t let you finish.”

The statement caught you both off guard. It’s not very often you take control like that, and it’s even less often Alcina lets you. Which is why you were surprised when she pouted and brought her hand back down to her side.

“I’ll behave, Darling.”

“Good girl,” you give her a quick kiss and wrap your hand around her again. It was a little known fact that Alcina Dimitrescu could go from being a dominant mommy straight down to a pillow princess. Really the only one still living that knows besides herself is you. Being the dominant one always felt strange though. You felt a bit out of your element, but the look of innocence on Alcina’s face was well worth it. It amazes you every time she decides to play submissively; she’s just as captivating and sexy as her usual dominant self. There was something about the way she just laid down and took whatever you were willing to give that made you crave her even more.

To reward her good behavior you increase your pace and tighten your grip. Her moans and gasps were rapturous to your ears. You knew exactly how she wanted to be touched- how she needed to be touched. And you were more than happy to oblige.

“Close your eyes and relax, Alci. This is all about you. I’ll take good care of you.”

Alcina did as she was told and relaxed against her pillows, focusing solely on your ministrations. She thought there was something hypnotic in the rhythmic motion of your hand, something that felt more profound and elegant the more she felt it. You felt ritualistic against her. She felt like she was being blessed by the Gods.

It was only when she felt something soft cushioning her shaft that she looked down at you. Her jaw dropped as if she wanted to gasp but no sound came out.

You were rubbing your now glistening tits up and down Alcina’s shaft, properly oiling them up. The vampiress’ cock twitches when she feels your hard nipples pressing against the length of her cock and your lips peppering her head in kisses. Your eyes were hooded and filled with lust. It was probably the sexiest thing Alcina had ever laid eyes on; and it was all for her.

You lick her from tip to base. You sucked on her cock, circling her head with the tip of your tongue until finally taking her in your mouth. Alcina starts subtly thrusting her hips, desperate for more contact.

A large, warm hand settled in your hair and started tugging at it. And as the two of you looked at each other, as if no one else existed within the world, you eagerly returned to sucking her cock like you were trying to save your life doing it.

You take her head in your mouth and suck, the taste of precum fresh on your tongue.

She arched into your touch and busied her hand by massaging her breasts, tweaking and pinching her hardened nipples to give herself as much stimulation as possible.

“Does that feel good, baby?” Alcina hummed in response.

Meanwhile, your left hand was softly caressing the vampire’s muscular thighs, and a cute little whimper escaped from her when you pinched her skin. "Ah! Te rog, iubirea mea."

"Please what, Alci?" "Tell me what you want, Love. Use your words."

Alcina couldn’t seem to keep still, as she began unconsciously pushing her hips up towards your face, attempting to get you to deep-throat her as soon as possible. To prevent her from moving like that, you tried using enough force in your left arm to hold her hips down, with your right hand still holding onto her cock as she started to pick up the pace.

“I want your mouth, draga mea. Please, draga mea I need to be in your mouth.”

You grin up at her and chuckle lowly. “That wasn’t so difficult now was it?”

Maintaining eye-level with Alcina’s cock, you stuck out your tongue and licked a bead of precum from the slit. You continued this motion until the whole tip in your mouth, sucking out a lot more precum. Finally, you took almost her full length in your mouth, just enough to reach the back of your throat. You gagged.

Alcina couldn’t suppress her moans anymore, letting you hear her desperation loud and clear. She was panting, sweat forming on her forehead. The atmosphere of their bedroom suddenly got hot. Really hot.

"Nu te opri, te rog," Alcina whispered not realizing she was speaking at all. "Mmmm ...te rog, iubirea mea, nu te opri."

You heard Alcina mumbling but couldn't make out the words. No matter, you weren’t concerned with what she was saying. You could tell Alcina liked what you were doing because she'd grind her hips up closer to your face whenever your mouth parted from her cock.

Alcina shot her eyes wide open right before she came in your sore mouth, and filled you up so much to the point where you choked for a second. But you swallowed all of her semen, not allowing any to drip from your chin. You licked your lips again, feeling very full. “That was delicious, Love. You taste so fucking good. Thanks for breakfast.” Alcina looked down with a blush to see you staring at her lovingly, watching her penis rest against her stomach. You crawled up to look Alcina eye-to-eye, a smirk spreading across your face. “You’re welcome.”

Alcina laughed and pulled you down fully on top of her. “Thank you.”

You lowered your face to place what was supposed to be a chaste kiss on her lips. Alcina melted into the kiss, the softness of your lips driving her crazy on the inside. Things were getting heated, as Alcina stuck her tongue into your mouth when she got the chance. You just squirmed above her. Alcina could taste her semen on your tongue. She moaned into your mouth from the action. Then she bit your already swollen bottom lip, causing you to hiss. Neither of you wanted to pull away. You continued making out for a while, until you ended the intimacy and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your tongues. “I love you, Alcina.” “I love you, too, Y/n.”

#lady dimitrescu x reader #tall vampire lady #Lady Dimitrescu #lady Alcina #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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tsundanire · 2 years

Text

Draco Malfoy and the N.A.S.T.Y. Problem Pt 1

First and foremost let me just go ahead and assure you that this is the most un-beta'd, crack-iest, bullshit you will probably read from me...this month? I can't make any promises about the rest of the year this early. Please note that this is based off an image I will drop at the bottom of this part, and a hilariously cracky conversation from the Drarry Discord Server. I will be posting this in several parts over the next few days on tumblr, and then will likely add the completed/polished version to Ao3 all at once at the end. Without further ado... Draco and his N.A.S.T.Y.'s...

...

Having grown up in the upper echelons of Wizarding social classes, Draco Malfoy was an expert in social customs. For birthdays, he made sure to send out hand-calligraphed invitations, and matching thank-you cards following the event. For Holidays and other social gatherings, he made sure to Owl an appropriate host/hostess gift, as well as a hand-penned note thanking them for their gracious invitation—regardless of whether he wanted to be there or not.

Professor McGonagall had once received a note of thanks from a much younger Draco, upon receiving his Hogwarts Letter. It hadn’t helped endear her to him in the end, but at least he could look back—nose haughtily pointed high—and say he had far better manners than the future Headmistress.

So, during his first year, when the time came to formally choose his life-time partner arch-nemesis, no one else besides one Harold Jimothy Potter would do. And so, our valiant Slytherin hero set to work, drafting a N.A.S.T.Y. otherwise known in long-form as: Notification of Adjusting Social Terms of Yokefellows.

The neatly scripted font, written in gold ink, and formalised on stunning—and expensive—black parchment, was sealed with the Malfoy crest, and was sent via owl within days to Potter. It was received during breakfast the following morning, along with a bevy of fan-mail and a rather soggy looking Daily Prophet—which Potter insultingly took more interest in than his N.A.S.T.Y.

Breakfast was almost finished, most of his friends—besides Granger—had already set off for class or whatever the hell it was Gryffindors did in the morning, before Potter finally noticed the artfully folded black parchment bearing his family’s seal. Confusion marred his brow, as he tore through the seal, ripping some of the paper in the process. Draco’s brow twitched angrily, but then again, who could have expected anything else where stupid dumb Potter was concerned.

Draco knew the letter’s contents off by heart, having gone through several variations of the draft in order to get the wording just right.

Harold Jimothy Potter,

Below you will find a N.A.S.T.Y. shifting our social arrangement. It is with this that I do declare us Arch-nemeses. Nemesi? Whatever. You’ll find below the terms and conditions for said arrangement, including the things I expect from our new relationship, as well as what I am open to doing for you. Should you have any questions, concerns, or amendments you wish to re-negotiate, please forward this letter back via owlpost with your notes.

Looking forward to a life-long partnership in mutual hate and distaste,

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Notification of Adjusting Social Terms of Yokefellows

This notice is to inform you of my interest in becoming: Friends Lovers Enemies Arch-nemeses ✔

As such, I would like our relationship to include:

Video games | Make-outs | Sword Fights ✔

Movies | Sex | Ritualistic Sacrifice ✔

Pets | Cuddling | Elaborate Kidnapping ✔

Bees ✔ | Furry Masks | Demonic summoning ✔

Cheese Plates ✔ | Screaming ✔ | Homoerotic Banter ✔ ✔

Please return via Owlpost with your signature attached if you agree to the terms. If not, please use the space below to indicate your concerns or amendments.

Yours amicably Yours adoringly Your reckoning is coming ✔

X___Draco Lucius Malfoy___ X___________________

Potter’s expression was blank for a moment as he read over the words, but then…it morphed into a masquerade of feelings and emotions, nothing sticking long enough for Draco to be able to decipher them. Seeming to settle on confusion, Potter turned in his seat, narrowing his eyes towards the Slytherin tables, clearly in search of Draco, who waved his hand and offered a thumbs up—in the style of lower class muggle-immaturity the Gryffindors seemed overly fond of.

Those emerald eyes narrowed even further. And then, utter prat that he was, rose from his spot, and left the great hall without looking back. At least, he’d taken Draco’s card with him. Maybe he’d take some time to think about Draco’s offer and get back to him? What could he possibly lose by formalising their intentions?!

...

#drarry #hpdm #drarry squad #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry drabble #draco malfoy #harry/draco #Harry Potter #absolute crack

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lihikainanea · 2 years

Note

I have sweet thoughts of Bill and Tiger drinking their coffee on a chilly morning outside, wrapped in cozy blankets and cuddled into each other. Bill grabs her hand, intertwines his fingers with hers and kisses her hand. Lots of cheek kisses too. It’s all very innocent and cute. Maybe Gustaf is watching them from the window, smiling.

My morning coffee is a very, very sacred ritual to me and I most definitely include that in their dynamic. There is just something so incredibly peaceful, so joyful about those first few sips of hot bean juice before the realities of the day hit you. And I'm a caffeine addict by all senses of the word--I am non functional without coffee. I drink it black. No cappuccino, no latte, nada. Give me a straight up cup of black coffee, and it needs to be consumed within minutes of me waking up. It is the first thing I do. And since the magic of programmable coffee machines came into my existence, I am even able to wake up to the sound and smell of a pot brewing. I literally got a Nespresso last year because I needed to be able to pound back a shot of coffee before my 3 month old puppy started doing his potty dance by the door at 5AM.

There has always been a ritualistic nature, a peacefulness, about a cup of coffee in the morning.

And I just love the idea of these two idiots warm in bed--tiger pushing on Bill's butt with her feet, mumbling coffee while still half asleep. Bill is a walking zombie and god he's just so warm under the covers and it's so COLD out there in the room, but he obliges. With eyes still half closed he clumsily stands up, tugs on some socks, nearly trips as he pulls his pyjamas pants on. He yawns loudly, stretches his arms out and cracks his back all while muttering what a pain in the ass she is. She just grumbles happily from her blanket burrito.

But like, maybe tiger really loves winter and it's just so beautiful here. Are they in Sweden? They're in Sweden. There are only precious few hours of daylight in Sweden and most of them are in the late morning, which is tiger's vibe. She loves a sunrise but she's not a morning person by any means, so a sunrise at 11AM? That's bliss.

So by the time Bill comes back to the room--hair still stuck up all over the place, eyes still half closed--tiger set up the small balcony lounge chairs with nearly all the blankets from the bed, and lit a small fire in the outdoor fire pit. She takes the mugs from him and sets them down outside, then wraps him up in the remaining blankets and manhandles him into a lounge chair while he grumbles. She plunks on his lap, legs up and feet cocooned in his lap, and then covers them with the remaining blankets. She tucks her head under his chin, gives him a little nibble there, and sips her coffee.

"Good morning," she murmurs. Bill just grunts--but after a few minutes, she feels his big warm hand on her back, stroking lightly. She gives him a kiss on his chin and he tilts his head down, capturing her lips in his.

They spend an hour like that--just soft kisses, slow sips of coffee, not saying anything. And meanwhile Gustaf is inside his room next door, sitting by the window as he writes in his gratitude journal, just glancing at the two of them every now and then and he smiles softly. When their fire dies out--Good Dude Gustaf--He opens the door, swings one leg over the balcony separator, grabs a log and throws it in. He throws in two, just to make sure the fire lasts a little longer. Tiger smiles and thanks him, nuzzling further into Bill--who just grunts his appreciation at his big bro, his eyes still closed.

#soft bill #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fiction #bill skarsgard fic

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

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Difficult Day

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Zoya Nazyalensky

Summary: The anniversary of the final battle is always a difficult day...

malen'kiy drakonchik- little dragon

Every year on the anniversary of the final battle with the Darkling, the Queen and her Prince could always be found in the same place. Not at the shrine to Sankta Alina on the dead sands of the Fold, though they visited the shrine on Alina’s Saint’s day, nor at any of the churches holding services and memorials. They weren’t at the cemeteries, paying homage to the dead, or holding any services or memorials of their own. On the anniversary of the final battle, Zoya and Nikolai could be found together, blocking out the world in their chambers.

The Grand Palace came to a halt on the anniversary, all matters of state being postponed until the following day, all work being pushed aside. Zoya never got a real chance to mourn all she’d lost, nor had Nikolai, so they allowed themselves this one day to grieve. The Queen had yet to get out of bed, and she likely wouldn’t, except to use the bathroom and possibly eat something. But until either of those needs arose, Zoya would remain burrowed under the covers, her cries soft and quiet, but the tears streaming down her face nonetheless.

Nikolai shut off the taps of the bath, stepping into the painfully hot water. Today, though the demon slumbered within him and was under his control now, memories of what had happened to him were stronger than ever. He scrubbed at the black scars marrying his hands, the inky lines trailing over his chest and back. It was ritualistic, the nearly boiling bath Nikolai took. Of course, he knew that no amount of soap and water could remove the marks from his skin or the demon from his body, that he’d learned to live with. There was just something about scrubbing his skin nearly raw that soothed his mind.

The Prince dried himself off and dressed, opening the bathroom door, a cloud of steam billowing out before him. He saw a lump beneath the blankets that he knew to be his wife, and Nikolai climbed into bed, snuggling under the covers. “I’m here, love,” he said, and Zoya rolled over, burrowing her face into his chest. Nikolai held her close, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. “You’re warm,” Zoya said, and Nikolai managed a little smile, and he kissed her forehead.

Zoya lifted her face, cupping her husband’s cheek. “How’re you holding up?” she asked, and Nikolai sighed. “I’ve been better, Zoyachka,” he said. “You know how it is. Memories are closer to the surface today.” Zoya nodded, and she brought a hand to her back, bringing one of Nikolai’s hands so she could look at it. His scars didn’t bother her in the slightest, they showed her just how strong her husband was, and she pressed her lips to the scars on the back of Nikolai’s right hand, before reaching for his left so she could repeat the process.

“You are not a monster, Kolya,” she said, knowing his thoughts as well as he did. “You are a strong, kind, sweet, loving man, and I love you.” Nikolai pressed a kiss to Zoya’s forehead, and she cuddled closer. “I love you too, my darling. What about you, how are you holding up?” The moment of respite from the deep sadness she felt had ended, and tears sprung to Zoya’s eyes.

She’d lost so much on that day, she’d nearly died herself. Everything she’d fought for had nearly been swept away, the man she’d seen as a mentor betrayed her, she’d watched her friends die, watched soldiers die. It weighed on her heart, but most days, Zoya shouldered the weight with grace, stepping into the role of Queen that everyone expected of her. But some days, today in particular, the weight caused her to crumble.

“I… I…” Zoya tried, but no words would come out. As she cried, Nikolai held her closer, wiping her tears as they fell, stroking her hair and whispering words of love and assurance into her ear. “I’m here, darling,” he repeated over and over. “Right here.” Zoya sniffed, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. “I just want this day to be over,” she said, her voice rough. “I just want to sleep through everything.”

“Then sleep, malen'kiy drakonchik. Rest, my love, I’m not going anywhere.” Zoya sniffled again, shifting in her husband’s arms so she was as close as she could possibly be. “Wake me up when it’s all over,” she whispered, and Nikolai kissed her forehead. “I will, Zoyachka. I will.” Tomorrow, she would be Her Most Royal Majesty, Queen Zoya Nazyalensky, but for now, she would be weak, and she would rest

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky x nikolai lantsov #zoya x nikolai #shadow and bone fanfiction

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mintys-musings · 9 months

Note

is it okay if i ask for some kaoru thoughts? c:

yes of course! i do have some kaoru thoughts ngl...

cw mommy kink

NSFW under cut~

my favourite thing about him is that (in context of UNDEAD's concept), kaoru is technically just some regular degular dude among supernatural beings. aka i think he's a monsterfucker. but like the kind that usually just goes after ones that are still semi-humanoid. he denies being into more amorphous creatures, but if they can bend him over and fuck him, he can be convinced (mindbroken) to love them

as said in the cw im so sure he has a mommy kink of some kind. ik it's partially a joke but yknow... i just think he does. he's more into soft doms than anything.

doesnt actually know much about dom/sub dynamics besides calling each other things and what dom/sub means. you'll have to explain it in full to him if you want that kind of thing. kaoru will be bright red the entire time as you do, but he's very into it. he just can't do heavy scenes.

he does, however, like the more ritualistic aspects of bdsm. he likes kneeling and waiting for his dom to touch him. he likes the preparation if bondage is involved. also loves the aesthetics of it. trust him to ponder buying some gear if it's mildly ornate.

he can take the lead if you'd like. he's sweet and constantly checking if you're okay with what's going on. he's a gentle lover. he can't bring himself to be aggressive unless you really want it.

an absolute darling with aftercare. dom or sub, top or bottom, the next morning or when he wakes up from his post sex nap, he's making you a meal. pancakes usually. in general, will pamper you after all your work, showering you with cuddles and kisses and telling him how much he enjoyed being so intimate with you.

he is also into being feminized, but he hasn't explored that yet nor has he found out there's a word for it. please doll him up i beg

scent kink.

#Minty Answers #kaoru hakaze smut #Minty Rambles

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hockeywhhores · 3 years

Text

birthday gifts- c. hart

Carter Hart x Reader

warnings~ swearing, alcohol, jealous reader

summary~ Reader’s birthday coming up and Carter can’t wait to spoil her. Their true feelings come out after an incident at dinner.

genre~ friends to lovers, fluff with some moments of angst

word count~ 3.1K

Valentine’s week masterlist

Main masterlist

Carter Hart quickly became your best friend when you met in a small, local coffee shop in Philly. You were caught off guard when the weather had changed from being slightly cloudy to heavy rain. Your light sweatshirt and jeans would not get you back to your college campus in a decent condition. So as you were internally panicking, Cater slid up beside you and gave you his umbrella.

“Here you seem to need this more than I do.” the blue-eyed boy smiled at you. He was pushing the umbrella towards you, and you were trying to decide if to take it or not.

“I don’t know. Won’t you need it?” you asked him, slightly confused.

“I’m just going to my car, you look like you might have a longer trek then me.” he had assumed correctly, but you were still torn inside. “I’m Carter, and I don’t really need it.”

“y/n” you mumbled your name.

“How about we can swap numbers, and you can give it back after today, if that will make you feel better about taking it.” Carter suggested. You just nodded to show you agreed. He handed you his phone, and you handed him yours. And that was how you had met Carter Hart, goalie for the Philadelphia Flyers, and hadn’t even known it. It surprised you when he had told you, but thought little of it. You did not want to make him feel as if you were using him for fame. Carter appreciated it when you didn’t change how you acted towards him, when he told you about his job. You were just a sweet, carefree college student, and he was a young NHL goalie, but that changed nothing between you. You were still dragging him to bars on his days off, and he was still dragging you to go suit shopping with him.

Suit shopping wasn’t something you thought you would do, but here you were. Stuck in a store where one piece of clothing probably cost more than your rent. Sitting in a chair waiting for Carter to get done changing so you could review which suit he had just put on. Whenever you asked why he wanted you to come with him; he just said that he needed a woman's input, so he could get the ladies. You knew that wasn’t true, but you didn’t argue for anything else. As you were getting really bored, out walked Carter in a light blue suit. The color was not working for him, and all you could do was laugh.

“I don’t think this is my color.” He stated plainly, looking into the full body mirror that was across the room. You just kept laughing, and he gave you a playful scowl. “Why don’t you try picking out a suit color.” challenge accepted. You got up and walked into the men's section looking for anything that stood out to you, and that was when you found a dark navy suit. It was plain, but you thought it would look good.

“Here!” you skipped back up to him, with the suit in hand. “Try this on, dork.” He joggled his head, but turned on his heels and went into the dressing room. Instead of just sitting and waiting, you started looking around at all the accessories. The men’s and women’s were mixed, and you couldn’t take your eyes off this one necklace. The necklace had a gold chain with the charm being your birthstone. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. You didn’t even realize when Carter came up behind you.

“Which necklace are you looking at?” he gently asked you. You could feel his breath on your ear.

“The gold one, with the birthstone on it.” you said pointing in the general direction. He waved over an employee that was standing nearby.

“Can you get out that necklace for me?” Carter asked, while pointing it out to the worker.

“Carter! I could never afford that! Don’t waste his time.” you were trying to stop him. Embarrassed and regretting telling him which necklace you were looking at, you couldn’t bring your eyes from the floor. His shoes looked great at the moment.

“Yeah, but I can.” He said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but you are not buying that for me.” you were way too proud to let him buy you that necklace.

“Come on. If you like it, I am more than willing to buy it for you.” Carter was trying to convince you, but you were having none of it.

“No. We are suit shopping for you, not necklace shopping for me.” you shut him down, and he knew not to fight it after you got like this. With a huff, he went back to looking at the mirror that was around the dressing room.

“I like this one! I guess you can pick out a suit better than me, y/n.” Carter pulled you back into reality when he spoke. Looking him up and down, you would not tell him how much you loved that suit on him. The suit made him look the good kind of older, and it took your breath away. You should not be thinking of your best friend like this, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You always knew Carter was good looking. I mean, you watch all the girls in the bar approach him, but seeing him like this made you feel so much more than you should.

“Get that suit.” you demanded. You would not let him walk out of this ridiculously overpriced store without it.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled at you through the mirror. It was your turn to playfully roll your eyes at him.

Carter changed back into the clothes he came in, which was a pair of black sweatpants and a Flyers shirt. The shirt really showed off his arms, and you caught yourself looking at them too many times. Getting home was pretty quick, and you just decided to uber eats some food while you worked on homework and Carter fidgeted with anything in his sight. He was thinking about the way your eyes shimmered when you looked at that necklace. He was also thinking about how good the gold chain would complement your already beautiful skin tone. Trying to come up with any reason he could to get you that necklace, he settled on your birthday that was in two weeks.

“Can you stop moving so much?” you interrupted his thinking. Carter didn’t realize how much he was actually moving until you spoke up from the other end of the couch.

“Yeah. Sorry.” he politely apologized to you. You just smiled at him and reached out for his hand.

“What's on your mind, Bubs?” your voice was nothing but gentle, and Carter’s heart jumped to his throat. You were so beautiful. He always wanted to spoil you with gifts, but you would never let him. He just wanted to announce to the world that you were his, no one else's. Oh, how much he wanted to come home to you on his couch, where you had fallen asleep while doing homework. He just wanted to come home to you, making him a celebratory cocktail after his home game wins. Carter loved you, and he just wanted you to love him back, but he could never tell you all this.

“Just what I’m going to be getting you for your birthday.” His smile was cheeky.

“Nothing extravagant, please.” you pleaded with him, but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. Carter always went all out for your birthday. He always took you out to breakfast at the cafe where you met, then for dinner he would take you to the most expensive restaurant in Philly. Your family couldn’t usually make it all the way out to Philly just for your birthday, but Carter was brilliant company so you never really minded. If he had a game that year, you would be in the front row right next to their bench.

“You know I’m going to, and that I will not say sorry for it.” he explained and all you could do was roll your eyes, but before things could go further, you got a message that your food was being delivered. We spent the rest of the night together slightly cuddled up together watching Netflix.

The next two weeks flew by without you being able to hang out with Carter. School took up most of your time, and then you still had to go to work after you got done with school. It was always hard when your schedules didn’t match, but Carter never forgot to text you. He sent ‘good morning’, and ‘good night’ texts that made you blush. You tried not to think about what they could mean and take them at face value. You never forgot to send him your ritualistic ‘good luck’ text before every game.

Your birthday comes quickly, and to be honest you almost forgot about it. Until Carter woke you up by dragging you out of your warm, cozy bed into the cold room.

“Carter!” you yelped out, not fully awake. “It's freezing.” you shot him a small glare, but he was already five steps ahead of you because the next thing you know, a big Team Canada sweatshirt. It was so warm and you just hugged yourself until you felt you could open your eyes again. “Thank you” smiling now that you were warm and awake.

“Happy birthday beautiful.” Carter whispered into your ear, pulling you into a tight hug. Hugging him back just as tight. You stayed like that for a while. “Do you want to go in your pjs or do you want to get ready before we go to breakfast?”

“I want to get ready.” you whispered back. Carter nodded, knowing that it would be another hour before you left, but could find himself to be annoyed. Whenever you got ready while he was over, he always sat in on your bed, sometimes watching you do your hair or makeup. You got ready much faster than Carter thought you would. When he saw you his mouth dropped, dressed in your best pair of jeans, that hugged your ass in the best places, and your pink top that had embroidered daisies, that showed more boob than normal. Finishing the look with your best casual heel. You look perfect.

“Does this look alright?” you sweat out.

“I know something that will make it look better.” Carter professed. It surprised you, not expecting him to say that. Watching him as we went over to where he sat all the presents he got for you. Bringing back a smaller, black bag that had wrapping tissue sticking out the top. He handed it to you, and you opened it swiftly. Inside, you found a square box and pulled it out. In a flash you opened the box, and there sat the necklace you were eyeballing weeks ago.

“Oh my god. You didn’t.” you rhetorically asked. But there it was, the gold necklace with an authentic birthstone dangling off of the chain.

“Here, let me put it on you.” Carter held his hand out for you to drop the necklace into. You said nothing, because you really didn’t know what to say. You felt his fingers grace the back of your neck, effectively getting goosebumps. He tapped your shoulder when he was done, and you turned around, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You really didn’t have to. You being here with me is enough.” you professed. You never wanted to make him feel as if you were using him for his money.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” Carter explained to you. All you could do in the moment was hug him again. “How about we go to breakfast now?”

Going back to the cafe was something you did often with Carter. The cafe quickly became your meeting place. The coffee was amazing; the memories held there were even better, and the aesthetic was gorgeous. The entire day was just amazing. Carter spoiled you. You tried to get him to let you pay for some things, but he completely refused. After being out for hours, you both agreed to go back to your apartment and just chill until dinner.

You were watching some romantic comedy, when it truly hit you how much you loved Carter. You thought it was just some stupid crush, but while you were in your head you realized that you never wanted him to leave your side. Also, realizing how much it hurt seeing him with another woman, romantically. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore, and you knew Carter wasn’t into these movies; only watching them because you liked them.

“Is it almost time to get dinner?” you pondered out loud. “I’m starving.” you exaggerated by throwing your head back and rubbed your stomach.

“Yeah, we can start driving there.” Carter said after looking down at his watch.

“Yay!” you playfully cheered. Making grabby hands at him to help you off the couch. You had changed into a mid-length black dress, about twenty minutes ago. You felt, and looked, amazing. Carter grabbed your hands and pulled you off the couch, giving your forehead a small kiss, before he turned around and walked out the front door. Why did he have to do that? The small, friendly kiss made butterflies burst out in your stomach.

The drive was fun. Carter let you take over the speaker, and you had a mini dance party in his passenger seat. You would catch him looking over at you every so often, but you just kept dancing and singing to your favorite songs. Towards, the end of the drive you got him singing along! Laughing most of the time, but still kind of singing; you counted that as a win.

Carter pulled his car into the parking lot and ran over to open your car door. You gave him a thank you and took his hand while he walked you to the door. The hostess complemented your necklace as she sat you at your table, and you complemented her hair. Carter noticed you playing with the necklace as you were thinking about what to get.

“You look gorgeous, tonight.” Carter proclaimed, and you gave him a skeptical look. “No you really do, y/n.” Before you could answer, your server came to get your drink orders. You couldn’t help but notice that she was asking Carter all the questions and was barely looking at you. Even when you voiced what you wanted, she still wouldn’t give you the time of day. You decided to just let it go until she started out right flirting with him. Carter was too nice for his own good. He didn’t want to just tell the girl off, but he wanted to go back to talking to you. So you took matters into your own hands.

“Um, excuse me. My boyfriend and I would love to get back to our dinner. If you don’t mind.” your tone was nothing but bitchy, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” she curtly said in response. You just hummed in acknowledgement.

“What was that?” Carter asked, and you just shrugged. He dropped it when he realized he would get anything from you. Your drinks came back fast, and you were now ordering. She still didn’t give you any acknowledgment, but at last she wasn’t flirting with Carter. Dinner went by smoothly after you both got some wine into your systems. Soon you were back to your giggly self. Not wanting some server ruining your birthday dinner with Carter. The food was amazing, and the wine was even better. He kept to one glass, but you kept ordering yourself another one.

“Can we go back to your place? I like to look out the windows at night.” you drunkenly confessed. Carter knew you loved looking out his floor to ceiling windows, especially at night, because you could see all the lights from the buildings that surrounded his.

“If that's what you want.” he proclaimed, and your smile widened. Carter paid and walked you back to the car where he held the door open for you. The car drive was way more chill on the way back to his apartment. He knew he didn’t need to stop at your apartment, because you had stuff at his. Carter loved feeling as if he was driving you home after a long day. He reveled in the idea that he was driving you to your shared home. He helped a sleepy you out of the car and into the elevator. Your head was on his shoulder the entire way up with his arm wrapped around his waist.

It shocked you every time you walked into his apartment. The city lights that floated in were nothing less than beautiful. “Do you want a change of clothes?” Carter asked from behind you.

“Yes, please.” With that, he left to grab one of his old shirts and sweatpants. When he came back, he saw you swaying while looking out of the windows. “Don’t you ever wonder what every one below is doing? Do you ever wonder about their lives?”

“Sometimes.” he simply answered and handed you his clothes. With a thank you, you left to go change in his bathroom. You didn’t know what got into you at the restaurant. If Carter was into her, you should have just let them have their moment. But you did what you did, and you were going to have to face it, eventually. You quietly left the bathroom and found Carter looking out the windows. You just nuzzled your body into his arms; letting him hold you while you both stared out into the bustling Philly streets. “What happened at the restaurant?”

“She was flirting with you.” You mumbled out.

“Were you jealous?” he asked

“Yes,” you signed out “I was.”

“Why?” Carter countered.

“Because I love you.” you professed softly.

“I love you too.” he gently pushed your chin up, so you were looking him in the eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed your lips. You kissed back just as hard and didn’t stop until you couldn’t breathe. “Happy birthday.” You just laughed, because of course that's what Carter Hart had to say after kissing you.

“I never want to stop kissing you.” he admitted

“So don’t.” you professed, and he never did. You both spent the night tangled in each other's arms, exchanging kisses until you were truly sleepy.

finished.

#carter hart imagine #carter hart x reader #Carter hart fluff #carter hart #nhl imagine #nhl goalies #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #hockey fic #hockey boys #philadephia flyers #flyers fic #my writing #valentine's week

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theramseyloft · 3 years

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So I notice my pigeon boy tends to do different kinds of bites, and I was wondering what they meant? (Sorry in advance if you already have a post on this;; I couldn't find it;;)

So there's one, usually he leaves just to approach me, and he'll snap at me and nudge me with the top of his beak sometimes, (Driving?) This becomes more aggressive sometimes and he'll latch onto me and? Push my hand forward? He often shakes his head (in a forward-back motion as opposed to side to side,) too.

Then there's the one that's a lot faster, more like pecking. He takes nips too, but doesn't really latch on. (Is he Defending? I think I might spook him sometimes by approaching him too quickly with my hand. He even does this when he's on my shoulder, just preening my face a second ago.)

Then there's one that confuses me very much. It's a lot like preening or something? He kinda just seems to be trying to latch onto something sometimes? He runs his beak along wherever he's biting, and he bites occasionally, sometimes hard and sometimes gentle. And when he does this sometimes he'll lunge forward and take gentle bites at the end of my finger. They seem very exaggerated to me, he dips his head when he does it.

Oh! Also, sometimes he'll be strutting around, and I'll kinda give him a stroke on his chest or something, and sometimes he stretches his neck out real tall and looks quite confused or flustered, and he'll fly to another place and round back yelling. He does this when he's getting all quiet and strutty and starts preening aggressively too. (I think he's flirting? I try to pet at the corners of his mouth like hens do but he doesn't seem to want pigeon kisses. He's only done that with me twice and it was a bit ago.) Is he just getting flustered? Does he feel the need to redo an entrance? Like starting the interaction over again?

Sorry about all these questions. Please take your time getting to them if you wish! I hope you and your family (and flock) are well♡

Pretty much all of these sound like combinations of flirtation and play.

The first one is definitely driving.

He’s trying to prove how strong he is to you and sweep you off of your feet proper.

That second one is disciplinary. You’ve approached too fast or in a way he does’t want, and he’s comfortable enough to only feel the need to respond with the pigeon version of “Hey, quit it.”

Awww, the third one is an attempt to smooch-feed your finger, sort of trying to work out using it as a stand in for a beak.

If you wiggle your finger tip and angle it down like you’re trying to reach his crop, he will consider that reciprocation.

Touching the chest of a pigeon cock is only done by a hen asking for sex or a cock starting a fight.

You clearly aren’t starting a fight, so he thinks you’re incredibly horny and being shockingly forward.

He was not prepared!

Sex is very ritualistic, and you are his wife, not some side chick!

Wife gets the whole ritual! Wrestling, kissing, and cuddling leading up to the act of treading is wife-exclusive privilege.

Your boy loves you very much and is trying to work out how to go about treating you the way a wife deserves to be treated, by pigeon standards.

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billiedeanhwrd · 3 years

Text

mind is just as frail as it's frame, you know i'd leave it alone

billie dean howard x reader

summary: you're fighting a losing game with your disorder, let's hope it's not too late when your ex-girlfriend shows up in your apartment.

warnings: eating disorders (bulimia), depression, sad ending

word count: 1730

a/n: this is basically a vent i dumped into my notes app in one sitting after not being inspired to write for way too long, so, pls don't judge too harshly and pls DONT READ THIS IF IT COULD TRIGGER YOU

gif credits to @mildredratchds

You had fallen into the dark, deep blue again. Time and time again you fell and you fought your way out, you fell and you picked yourself up again. Not this time though, you were drowning and there was nothing you could do to get back to air. You were trapped in this pool of misery as if it was locked on the surface, and there was no way you were getting out of it by yourself.

The last time it got this bad you had Billie, sweet, sweet Billie, who would've sacrificed her life to help you in any shape or form, but she was gone. Her departure left a cavity in your heart, yet you couldn't be mad at her. She had tried. But you locked her out when you needed her the most. There really was no one else to blame for the decaying of your heart, but you.

Nothing particularly bad happened that would've caused you to spiral this extremely, it was simply the fact that everything was bad, everything is bad, and everything would always be bad. In reality, your problems weren't getting worse, but the continuous strain of having to deal with the same troubles every single day was eating away at your resistance. You could feel the energy and willpower to keep going creeping out of your body, leaving you with the empty shell of who you used to be.

You hadn't talked to Billie in months, after repeated tries to break down your walls and being pushed away every single time, she gave up. You did it, you pushed away the one person who truly cared for you. Your mind was clouded by self-hatred and anguish, it was as if your eyes were shielded by a grey layer, making it impossible for the world to look anything but cold and loveless.

There was not a single thing that could spark up the joyous flame inside you. Nothing was even remotely good anymore. Nothing.

You were here, but at the same time, you weren't. As if you had taken a step back from reality. The feeling of not being real blurring the lines between good and bad. At certain moments the light inside you would flicker, pulling you back and guiding you to the right thing. But it was only a flicker. It was weak and it was temporary. The disordered desire to completely destroy yourself was starting to consume you.

Everything was blurry, the line between good and bad, the one between acceptable and inappropriate and most dangerously the one between you and your illness.

Were these your authentic thoughts or were they caused by a disorder?, was a question you often asked yourself, but never actually answered.

You had long reached past the point of not caring, now you wanted it, actively wanted absolute destruction. You resumed all your old unhealthy coping mechanisms and made no effort to stop your current ones.

Who would really care if you died? no one, at least that's what you made yourself believe.

Total isolation from friends and family was necessary so you could spend all your time focusing on your eating disorder.

Instead of spending your nights in the arms of the woman you loved, you spent them hunched over the toilet, hurling your guts out.

You felt weak and disgusting at all times, nothing about what you were doing was anywhere near glamorous. Well... except if anyone finds choking on your own vomit or all kinds of gross digestive issues glamorous.

You couldn't recognize the girl starring back at you in the mirror, who the hell even was this red-eyed girl? Her puffy cheeks stood out to you immediately. Snot, vomit, and bile were running down her face, probably picking at her skin. And her eyes... well, except for tears and popped blood vessels there was nothing in them. Not a single glimpse of happiness or remains of a person.

It was a heartbreaking sight that left you cold.

Dizzily you walked to your bed, too tired to do anything. The tiny remains of energy you had left you with the content of your stomach.

It was 5 in the evening and you were laying in bed, staring at the spinning ceiling, until your eyes fell shut.

Your friends had contacted Billie, she was the only one who used to be able to help you at least a little bit. She was there for you, always, and she never judged. She stood by you in your darkest times, supportively holding your hand and not letting go even when the going got tough. You were constantly terrified of dragging her down with you, the last thing you wanted was to rob the world of her angelic presence.

She would hold you close when you were down, which was admittedly most days. She would clean your apartment and do your laundry, things you didn't feel like you could do in the state you were in.

She loved you and you loved her.

Of course, you returned the favors, you were there for her as well, but you knew it was different. It was a bigger challenge being with someone so deeply intertwined with their illness, but she still did it.

She was your everything, and you had lost her.

Not only was she your light in this pitch-black hole others called life, but she was also your soulmate. The one you laughed with most. The one who got you, everything about you. You shared a myriad of beautiful moments that outshined any bad time for her. She wanted to marry you one day, of course, you didn't know that until you kicked her out of your apartment and discovered a red, velvet box weeks later when you finally cleaned out her drawer.

You were moody, irritable, impulsive, and horribly depressed. It seemed as if your actions didn't have consequences, life was a game of numbers. Calories in. Calories out. Nothing else mattered.

You felt no remorse when things ended with Billie. The realization only really hit you when you found the 18 carat Tiffany diamond.

For a second your eyes opened wide and your lips curled into a smile, despite having ruined the surprise proposal. Then, boom, it hit you and your heart crumbled. There was no surprise to ruin, anymore. You two were done. She didn't need you, she had moved on, appearing with a new side-piece on the covers of tabloids weekly.

Why would you even care though? You ended things. you could hear a painful laugh erupting from you, you didn't need her, you didn't need anyone, not when you had your innermost nervosa.

Eyes wide and dead, smile big and stiff, you looked horrifying. But what did it matter? Sanity was a hoax anyways.

When your friends called Billie she dropped everything for you, like she always had and always would. The second she heard how you were behaving, her heart rate went sky high. It was happening again, and this time, she wasn't there to throw you a lifejacket, this time, you were drowning on your own.

It was 6 in the evening, and you were laying in your bed, facing the now still-standing ceiling.

Billie chuckled to herself as she used the spare key you hid in your not-so-secret-secret hiding spot to open your front door. The apartment was just how you had left it.

After you had practically inhaled the kitchen until you were painfully full and then, of course, ritualistically aggressively forced your hand down your throat to un-do what just happened. That's what appealed to you about bulimia. The control. Life didn't have an undo button, so you had to create one for yourself. You cheated in the dirtiest games of them all and your pride overthrew every bit of rationality that was left. Not once did the thought "I shouldn't be doing this" enter your mind, this was after all normal to you, blurry, but normal.

It doesn't work that way though, you can't undo anything or cheat your way through life just because you're unable to give up control. And a part of you knew that, a part of you wanted to listen to what your therapist had told you. She was right, you could drop dead at any second, the chances of having a sudden heart attack rising after every heave.

The smell of vomit invaded the medium's nose when the door creaked open, and her heart sunk. She wanted so badly to help you through this, stand by you, and overcome this with you, but you wouldn't let her. You made it impossible for her to be apart of your life. She had no energy to keep up the fight and so she left, like you wanted her to, like you said you wanted her to.

She called out your name. no response. you must be asleep somewhere, she thought. Your ex-girlfriend made her way through the food packages and dirty dishes on the floor to the bathroom, it wouldn't be the first time she'd find you passed out on the cold ceramic tiles. She flushed the toilet and wiped down the blood and vomit-covered toilet seat before stopping in the doorway to collect herself. Fiddling with her pearl necklace before taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom.

It was 6:10 in the evening when Billie switched off the light in the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, her red pumps echoing through your deadly silent apartment. She stopped in her tracks and seriously considered cleaning for a second, like she used to do for you when you were dating.

She missed you, a lot. She missed seeing the relief on your face when you entered your freshly cleaned kitchen after beating yourself up for nights for not being able to just. Do. IT. She missed the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at her, she missed your bear-hugs and cuddles, she missed everything about you. Billie shook her head, cleaning could wait, she needed to talk to you.

It was 10 past 6 in the evening and you were laying in your bed, which was how Billie found you a few seconds later.

Because everything was just how you had left it. Dirty dishes on the floor. Lights on. Vomit in the toilet. A lifeless body facing the ceiling.

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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...i’m dying to hear you talk about prehistoric art now ash

Long story short, there is a huge propensity to look at these artworks (whether it’s cave paintings or carvings or sculptures or early jewelry) and try to assign ritualistic or religious importance.

Like, “Oh, they were doing these cave paintings in order to work towards a successful hunt or to perform some kind of magic or call on their god” or “this must be a fertility symbol despite us having no other evidence other than the carved lady is naked/that sculpture is genitalia” or “they must have used these beads in ritual ways” when it’s a necklace/bracelet/etc.

It’s a very common way to look at it, and I don’t really blame anyone who does, but the thing that holds all that prehistoric art together is that it’s fucking beautiful and... it looks like fun.

It looks like people having fun.

It looks like people realizing that if they mixed this one particular clay with water, it created something they could use to draw, and the surface of the cave was so flat they could paint there and unlike the ground it wouldn’t wash away or get smeared.

“These hands must have held some meaning” orrrrrr it was a lady who figured out if she blew paint through a hollow tube she could make handprints and she thought that was fucking amazing so she did it sixteen times.

One of the reasons given that cave paintings must have been religious in nature is that they often depict the kinds of animals that paleolithic persons would have been hesitant to actively hunt because of the danger they presented. And also, comparing it to neolithic religious iconography, they see similarities and so assume that the cave paintings are religious because the artwork we’ve held onto and focused on with neolithic imagery of similar animals was religious in nature.

The paleolithic era was up to 2.5 million years ago, give or take, but the oldest paleolithic paintings we have access to are about 45,000 years old (IIRC, it’s been a bit, there could be older ones found more recently). The neolithic era begins about 10,000 to 8,000 years ago depending on who you ask.

So I think there’s a big flaw in assuming religious reasoning because an entirely separate group of people much much later did some religious stuff that was about similar animals. Or rather, I think there’s a flaw in assuming cave paintings must be religious for that reason. Or even that they were primarily left in caves! We’re finding them there because the ones left in caves were the ones left in good enough condition to be found thanks to the immense luck of environmental preservation. We don’t know that paleolithic peoples didn’t paint on every goddamn surface, most of it fading away or lost. We don’t know that they painted for ritual purposes.

We really don’t know that they weren’t just telling stories on the walls of the lives they lead. We don’t know that someone didn’t make a million handprints because it was FUN, not out of some ritual meant to appease a god. We don’t know that a man who drew a bison was doing anything more than thinking that bison looked fucking cool and he wanted to depict them in a method he knew how to do so in.

We don’t know the stories they told around the campfires, but there’s kind of a push when studying paleolithic/mesolithic/prehistoric art in general to assign vast religious importance and I think that it vastly underestimates the way that people are fucking storytellers. We are artists, in our own ways, in a thousand different ways.

When you go to a party and regale everyone with a story about someone cuddling a cow and everyone is absolutely ‘awwwwwing’ over how fucking cute that is, you are a storyteller. You are the same as someone who, 43,000 years ago, lit a torch and said, I want to paint a huge fucking cow today.

I don’t know that it wasn’t religious any more than anyone else knows that it was.

But I kind of prefer the idea that some of what we’re finding is people making art because they fucking wanted to make art. Because we are an artistic species, we are a storytelling species, we make art. We don’t need a specific religious reason to do so.

We’re artists.

We want to paint a fucking cow? We’re gonna paint a fucking cow.

So basically, huge disclaimer that I’m not an expert and I’m just talking about something I do a lot of reading up on and studying and I absolutely understand why it’s sort of the general consensus that things are religious in nature, I just think that assuming religion leaves out a bunch of the complexity of humankind’s nature.

This is similar to me as when historians argue that people were ‘close friends’ or cousins and sure, maybe some of them were close friends, get down with your bad self, but at least some of those people were clearly gay, Stephen.

My version is just, some of these people clearly just wanted to carve a naked lady out of a rock or paint a horse, Stephen, and that’s o-fucking-kay.

#prehistoric art #ash rambles #oh jesus I'm so sorry for inflicting this on you

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