exquisite skin

anonymous asked:

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are so fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess Athena.”

Arachne tosses her head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, “What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanches and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy. Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for her wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled hands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid, but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes and declares, “Athena should thank me, since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her and keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the crowd.

They will tell tales of her hubris. They will all be true.

~

The next day she bumps into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place, mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she says coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as a virtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers her to a weaving contest. She accepts.

~

Gods are not so hard to find, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” the baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking money from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag of sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders, “Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the first dozen times.

“Thank you for your help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She grows hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to overwhelm her.

But Arachne does not believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales will be true.

She ties a scarf around her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and begins her slow ascent.

~

The muscles in her legs and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body and drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her head and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts his head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” she repeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, looking at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweet bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are big enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaver Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”

~

They tell tales of Hephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad, angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face, and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire, replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?” he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a coughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up at the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me, girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack off her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have woven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“Yes.”

They will all be true.

With a gust of wind the oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest, richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,” she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully. It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges. The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part in surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take offense.

The goddess smiles and Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the goddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows. Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says, “She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber. Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says, “you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales of their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both happily married.

Gods hate being made to feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins the weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestus says, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at her reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says, not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite as the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.

~

The contest goes as expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goes red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the death blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.

~

She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe in defeat, in loss.

It was a terribly long journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke of allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.

~

It takes seven years for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s a large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as the sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t return to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looks onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skitters down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that a piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him, waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand –

His face slowly fills with a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  She jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landing in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that same breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes, that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exact moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, that Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven years.

They’ve told tales of her hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at the web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,” she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in front of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” she returns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stays cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please come with me.”

~

Arachne weaves a dress for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take you somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at her loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you like me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Of course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at the goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your company equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of her hubris.

“An excellent point,” Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii

i will crawl out of your bed. in the morning after i stay next to you long enough to know that you’re asleep. you smell like vanilla and cinnamon and the purple on your lips has started to fade. like the color of the sky when the sun starts to rise i will move the hair off your face. listen to the sound of your breath and run my fingers over your exquisite skin. in the morning before the moon bids goodbye. i will crawl out of your bed. alright. but when i crawl out of your bed; in the morning, can i stay inside your head?
—  @paletemptations // extended lyrics

Sensuality does not wear a watch but she always gets to the essential places on time. She is adventurous and not particularly quiet. She was reprimanded in grade school because she couldn’t sit still all day long. She needs to move. She thinks with her body. Even when she goes to the library to read Emily Dickinson or Emily Bronte, she starts reading out loud and swaying with the words, and before she can figure out what is happening, she is asked to leave. As you might expect, she is a disaster at office jobs.

Sensuality has exquisite skin and she appreciates it in others as well. There are other people whose skin is soft and clear and healthy but something about Sensuality’s skin announces that she is alive. When the sun bursts forth in May, Sensuality likes to take off her shirt and feel the sweet warmth of the sun’s rays brush across her shoulder. This is not intended as a provocative gesture but other people are, as usual, upset. Sensuality does not understand why everyone else is so disturbed by her. As a young girl, she was often scolded for going barefoot.

Sensuality likes to make love at the border where time and space change places. When she is considering a potential lover, she takes him to the ocean and watches. Does he dance with the waves? Does he tell her about the time he slept on the beach when he was seventeen and woke up in the middle of the night to look at the moon? Does he laugh and cry and notice how big the sky is?

It is spring now, and Sensuality is very much in love these days. Her new friend is very sweet. Climbing into bed the first time, he confessed he was a little intimidated about making love with her. Sensuality just laughed and said, ‘But we’ve been making love for days.

—  J. Ruth Gendler, The Book of Qualities

anonymous asked:

I know it was just posted, but I love the story with Jamie and Claire being handfast to keep safe from Randall! Please continue it! You are all amazing writers!

anonymous asked: COuld you do a follow up of that quick thinking prompt, with them hand fasting by the fire and then smuttyness upstairs. Claire seems more at ease in that au would she be whent hey got upstairs too?

anonymous asked: OMG the last one where Jamie and Claire decide to handfast after lying about it to BJR! I loved it but I want more, they realized their feelings very fast and I would love -aside from a wedding night, of course- to see a conversation between them about how they feel, they are so lovely and the first promot made me so emotional I just want more! <3

—————————————-

Previous ficlet 1

Previous ficlet 2

—–

It wasn’t until Jamie had locked the door behind them that Claire realized what had happened.

She stood a few paces into the room, facing the bed - the sheets all rumpled from where she’d slept the night before, and arisen - was it only an hour ago? - when she heard Black Jack Randall’s hoofbeats in the dooryard.

She felt, rather than heard, Jamie behind her, standing quietly. Breathing.

Dear God - what had they done?

Slowly she turned to face him. His chest was rising and falling with short, shallow breaths. He licked his lips, twisting his fingers. She wanted so badly to say something, anything - but couldn’t.

Silence - heavy and awkward, bloomed between them.

What had she done?

“Jamie?”

Startled, he cleared his throat, his eyes piercing hers. Heady. “Aye?” he rasped.

She wiped suddenly sweaty palms on the think creases of her skirt. “Are we - are we married? I’m not familiar with handfasting.”

He flushed - a lovely, dusky color creeping from the open neck of his shirt almost all the way to his hairline. “Ach. Weel - yes, and no. Handfasting - it’s traditionally used when there is no priest about, to make the vows formal. It’s valid for a year and a day.”

Claire bravely stepped closer. “And what happens after the year and the day are finished?”

He swallowed. She tore her gaze from his, and watched the fingers of his left hand tap restlessly against the wool of his kilt.

“The man and woman can choose to be wed properly, or they can go their separate ways.”

She took another step closer. “Tell me, Jamie. Am I your wife now?”

He moved from his position against the door and came to stand directly in front of her. Gently he took her hand - her right hand, and softly, tenderly traced the pad of his thumb around the base of her right ring finger. Where, God willing, she’d one day wear his ring.

“If ye’ll have me,” he breathed, mesmerized by the exquisite softness of her skin. “If ye want us to live as husband and wife. It’s no’ up to me.”

Her palm straightened against his touch, and she brought the heel of her palm directly against his. Captivated, he twined their fingers together, squeezing tightly.

“But I thought that was what we did downstairs - that we have to live as husband and wife. That we have to - to consummate.”

Her voice wavered a bit - but her eyes, so strong, so brave, still held his.

“I’ll never do anything ye dinna wish to, Claire,” he said, so softly she could barely hear.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand -”

He tore his eyes from hers and watched, mesmerized, as his thumb circled the backs of her knuckles. “It’s only the two of us in here, Claire. We have the rest of the day to ourselves. I willna force ye to do anything ye dinna wish to. Ye have to bear my name for the next year and day, but if ye wish to go back to being Claire Beauchamp after that, I’ll no’ stop ye. If ye dinna wish to lie wi’ me today, I willna force ye. If ye dinna wish to sleep in my bed once we return to Leoch, I will find another chamber in which to live.”

He wanted so badly to just hold her, crush her body to him, bury his face in her neck. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“I want to give ye choices, Claire. The gift of choice. To choose whether to live as my wife, or live on yer own. I’ll protect ye to the last drop of blood in my body, I swear to ye I will. That won’t change, no matter what ye decide. And if ye choose another man - well, it would be verra hard for me, but I’d understand.”

His eyes were tightly shut now, relishing the miracle of her skin against his. Steeling himself for the rejection.

But it never came. Because Claire was overcome with the affection and bravery and gallantry and selflessness of the man before her - this amazing, thoughtful, courageous, quick-thinking man who had just saved her life. And who was willing - quite clearly - to do whatever it took to ensure her safety.

So she tilted up his chin, waited for his beautiful eyes to open and lock with hers, and slowly, slowly moved in for a kiss.

—–

Dusk. Sunbeams of orange and yellow and pink knifed through the dirty windowpane.

In the dooryard, Rupert sang to the horses. Angus cursed at Willie.

In the bed, Jamie dreamed.

At the window, Claire drew Jamie’s plaid tighter around her shoulders. Reflective.

He was - had been - a virgin. She smiled, feeling so wanton at how they’d spent the day learning each other, exploring and teasing. Laughing.

He had told her everything about himself - his name, clan, and family. What he had overheard Dougal saying the night before. Why he had slept, cold and uncomfortable, outside her door last night.

She had told him everything about herself. About her parents, and Uncle Lamb. And Frank. And the stones.

He didn’t understand it - but he listened. Asked very good questions. And then held her tighter against him, as if anchoring her to him here, on this day, in this time.

And then he’d kissed the bruises on her belly that Randall had made two days prior. Promised her that she’d never have to see him again, that he’d keep her safe for the rest of their days, if she’d let him.

She would. He had already done more - and proven that he would do more, if need be - than Frank ever would. Ever could.

Claire turned away from the window and just watched Jamie for a long moment. He looked like a young boy - hair tousled, limbs askew.

Her heart soared.

And then he woke, slowly eased himself up on his elbows, and smiled at her.

“Ye look like an angel, crowned wi’ light,” he said softly, voice full of awe.

She swiftly padded over to the bed and sat on his lap, wrapping the plaid around both of them. Bringing them close. Sheltering them from the world.

“I have something to tell you.”

His brow furrowed, but he steadied his face. Ready for anything, after the unbelievable events that this day - the most terrifying and exhilarating day of his life - had brought.

“Oh, aye? What is it?”

She met his eyes - and took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

Beneath the plaid, his thumb gently traced the arch of her hipbone. “Yes what?”

She sat up a bit straighter, and her face split into a smile.

“Yes, Jamie. Yes, I’ll live as your wife-”

She wanted to add “if you’ll have *me*” - but couldn’t, as Jamie’s lips had already stolen her breath.

Dessert//(N.M)

This smut imagine is for almost reaching 1K followers. I would like to thank all of you who have liked and reblogged my imagines. This imagine is for you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate and I barely got back from the Steak House restaurant. We stay in the living room and pull out the bed from the couch. As we retract the bed and the bed spread from the couch Nate requests a glass of water.

Nate decided to leave the restaurant early, but made sure to grab dessert before we left. I grabbed doughnuts with chocolate sauce. As for Nate he requested an apple and key lime pie.

I return back to the living room with a glass of water and hand it to Nate.

“Your water my king” I say as I give him the water.

“Well thank you my queen” Nate responds back. He leaves the water on the side table before pulling me in by the hips. “I have to ask for one
more thing?” He lifts my shirt above my breasts leaving my stomach exposed.

“Oh, what is it” instead of responding back he leans forward and lays gentle kisses on my stomach. The kisses he leaves makes butterflies erupt inside my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair and close my eyes as then feeling of him near me calms me.

Nate puts his ear to my stomach which causes me to open my eyes quickly. I look at the scene unfolding with a confused expression.

“Hey there,anyone there” he says as he knocks on my hip bones gently with his knuckles. And he waits for an answer before putting his ear back on my stomach. I laugh at his actions.

“No ones there, so I think it is a bun free oven” he exclaims as he lays more kisses on my stomach. “I think we are safe to repeat another round from last night” he adds with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

I slide under the covers next to him as he wraps an arm around my waist.
Nate leans in and kisses my lips ever so gently.

“You are so beautiful” he whispers before planting another kiss on my lips.

“Thank you” I tell as a light brush appears on my cheeks. Nate chuckles softly before sitting up. He removes his clothing leaving him in all his naked glory. The blush that appeared on my cheeks darkens as I stare at his naked figure.

“Do you see something you like?” He asks as he slips back under the covers. I only hum in response as he pulls the sheets over his lap leaving him exposed a bit.

“Know something that would be better?” He asks

“What?” I respond while looking at him.

“If you are also naked” he says tugging at the hem of my shirt that is now rested above my breasts. I unclasp my bra and get out of my black jeans. My black lace panties are the only thing left before I have a chance to remove them Nate stops me.

“I got it” he disappears under the sheets. I feel a slight scrape of his teeth near my thighs. I start to wonder what he is doing before it dawns on me. He is removing my lace panties with his teeth. Nate soon resurfaces from under the cover and sits up once again.

“Would you like to taste your dessert?” He asks in which I respond with a nod. Nate takes a doughnut and dunks it into the chocolate sauce. He lifts the doughnut towards my mouth with a hand under it to catch any droplets of sauce.

“Mmm” I moan as I chew the doughnut and cover my mouth with the tips of my fingers. “That’s amazing”

“I know, right? I’ve tried these there when you went to Y/H/T last month. Do you want to try some of my pie?”
He says as I wait to finish what I have in my mouth.

“Only a taste” he gives me a small amount and I chew it “this is really good” I tell him as I watch him take a bite as well. I watch as chews the piece of pie and watch as his jaw clenches with each chew.

“It is amazing they do really well with their desserts” he says and dunks his finger into the chocolate sauce. He lifts his hand again with the other beneath to catch any droplets of sauce. Nate surprises me he brings the finger covered in chocolate to my lips.

“Open” I do as I’m told and he puts his finger into my mouth. I close down on it, sucking the chocolate sauce off gently. I take a hold of his hand to keep it in place as I swirl my tongue around it, the same way I do with his cock. I look up at him and see a sexy grin on his face while looking down at me.

“Mmm” I take his finger out and lick it slowly.

“Well Y/N I think it is safe to say you really enjoyed that” Nate says before continuing “lay down lil mama” I lay down on the bed and he pulls the sheets down to expose my naked torso. Nate places the tray full of our desserts on the floor. He reemerges with the chocolate sauce in hand. He straddles me.

“Y/N put a finger in the sauce and then put in anywhere on your body”

“Where?” I ask

“Wherever you want me to lick it off from” Nate replied with a sexy smile. I hesitantly dunk my finger into the chocolate. Nate watches eagerly as I trail it down the valley of my breasts. I place the remainder on my lips and find it extremely hard not to lick it off.

He puts the container down on the side table and bends down to lick my lips. Nate takes my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks gently and does the same with my top lip. It’s intimate his scent and sensation of his lips on mine are perfection. The sucking of my lips soon turn into a passionate kiss. A kiss that I cannot get enough of. My hands run through his soft hair and I let out a moan full of lust.

Nate breaks away and moves further down my body and his eyes land on my chest. His head lowers as his tongue runs along the trail of chocolate. The movement is hot, slow, and sensual. He licks off the chocolate and quickly travels to my right nipple. Nate take sit into his mouth flicking it with his tongue and nibbles.

Nate’s hand moves to my other breasts and caresses it between his fingers.

“Mmm, Y/N” he mumbles against my breast before moving to the other one and repeats his actions. Goosebumps appear all over my skin and causes me to bend my knees on either side of his body. My pussy circling beneath him on its own as if it hand its own mind. Nate releases my nipples from his mouth and goes back towards my lips. He kisses once again. My pelvis still rotating beneath and grinding on his hard cock. Nate pulls back and kneels between my legs. He reaches for the container full of chocolate once again.

“Don’t get carried away, lil mama” he says looking down at my naked body. “I want you to dip your finger again into the chocolate” I do as he asks and swirl it around in the container. “Get a lot on there is tastes exquisite from your skin. Put it on your body again.”

I take my finger out of the container and hover over my chest. I’m deciding whether to put it on my nipples or around my belly button.

“Not there” Nate says clearly my eyes look at his as he is already staring at me. “Lower” he adds with a dominant voice. I move my hand lower towards my belly button and look at him for guidance.

“Lower” he says once again. I’m getting really excited as I move my dripping finger lower. I already know what he wants and I want it too. I’ve always been insecure when Nate eats me out. I only want him to see the more appealing parts of my body.

I pause before lowering my finger so the chocolate drops onto my pelvic bone.

“Lower” that is all he says.

I look at his face and see the want in his eyes. I bite my bottom lips considering if I should or shouldn’t. I consider my next move.

“Don’t be shy lil mama, I want to taste you the right way” he takes a hold of my wrist and moves it above my clit. “Touch yourself, Y/N”

I look into his eyes as I rest my finger on my clit. I move it around my clitoris. His eyes never leaves my gaze only shortly to see me touching myself. This feels to good….

“You look so sexy right now” Nate whispers looking down at my fingers in between my legs. He reaches down and takes my hand, Nate takes it into his mouth and sucks off the chocolate.

“Mmm” Nate moans out looking at me. He removes my fingers from his mouth and lowers himself onto my belly. Nate licks off any drips of chocolate from my skin and kisses it slowly. He lowers his head to my clit, for which he pauses a bit.

Eventually, I feel his hot breath on me hovering over my delicate skin. His tongue sweeps over my outer lips towards my clitoris. Nate swirls his tongue around, licking, sucking, and I moan loudly arching my back.

“Uh huh” Nate mumbles against my skin. His tongue still caressing my clit masterfully. His hands glide his hands up my waist, pressing firmly into my skin with his fingers. I feel weak as his tongue works stroking and brushing against my clit.

My hands grip onto the sheets around me. My pelvis raise off the bed involuntarily, my muscles clench tightly preparing for my climax. Nate’s hand move to my lower stomach and pushes me back down onto the bed. His hands wrap around my thighs pulling me towards him.

“Nate, oh, Nate, yes” I cry out as my climax comes fast and hard. Nate takes my clit into his mouth and sucks hard.

“Oh, God! Yes!” I cry, my thighs quiver and tighten around his head. My hands travel to his hair tugging and gripping it. I throw my head back into the pillow, my heart beating fast through my chest. My stomach rising and falling rapidly with my short pants.

“Oh” I whisper. Nate strokes me gently with his tongue and kisses me lightly. I release my hold on his head from my thighs and I’m shaking.

Nate crawls up my body, a big and sexy smile his face as he kisses my mouth.

“Your so beautiful, I don’t know why your so insecure with your body. Your body is incredible” he says and I want to reply back but I’m speechless.

“You’re shaking” Nate says as he pulls me into his embrace. I lay in his arms my leg wrapped in between his. Nate pull the sheets above us and lays gentle kisses on my face. “Was it good, Y/N?”

“Mmm,” I respond back sleepy that’s all I can offer as a response.

“Is that a yes” he chuckles lightly. I nod my head, nuzzling my face into his chest.

“Good, because it was an amazing experience for me also. Your are the most beautiful women. I want to do this to you for the rest of our lives” Nate says.

“Me too….”

Nate leaves another kiss on my lips before we start to drift off to sleep curled up against one another.

anonymous asked:

This is based off a true story: HC where MC retells the story to the RFA of how a girl once flirted with her with the line "You know where that short would good on? On my floor."

Did…did this happen to you??

I’m hoping not, no one should have to endure such a terrible pick-up line…

Anyway, thanks for the ask. In my head i’m imagining you meant to type “shirt” and not “short” because that made the most sense to me. Sorry if i’m wrong.

◉ Yoosung

  • blushes
  • blushes
  • blushes ୧( ˵ ° ~ ° ˵ )୨
  • “Wait, MC!!!! Now I have to watch out for other women, too?! Why are you so cute?!!”
  • this poor cinnamon roll
  • you guys have shirts with each others faces on them
  • the next time you were about to go out together he suggested you both wear them

◉ Jumin

  • “I don’t understand?”
  • Is legitimately puzzled
  • “You’re wearing the finest threads tailored specifically to your every curve. The color is exquisite with your skin tone, I picked it out myself. And it brings out the beauty of your perfect eyes. Why would it look better on the floor??? MC, this person is clearly delusional and I will not have you consorting with them any longer.” 

Zen

  • You’re gunna unleash
  • T H E   B E A S T
  • He gets really hot thinking about it
  • “MC, I need to go…take a cold shower…”
  • Is still low-key jealous and possessive at the thought
  • But for the next week he kept having dreams about it
  • “MC, who was this girl? What did she…look like?”
  • “No, wait! Don’t tell me..”//sigh

Jaehee

  • Oh hELL NO
  • WHO is this girl, MC?”
  • Angry and protective Jaehee, ACTIVATE
  • “How dare she talk to you like that. She obviously has no class”
  • //is pacing now
  • “I mean, you’re beautiful and perfect so I can’t blame her for trying. But she needs to know that what she did is unacceptable, I need to confront her-”
  • You have to grab her hands to stop her, looking her in the eyes.
    • JAEHEE. I LOVE YOU. ONLY YOU. There could be a million girls flocking to me but none of them would hold my heart or my soul like you do. Don’t give this a second thought, please…”
  • She’s blushing so hard
  • “Okay…MC…I’m sorry for getting so worked up”
  • //kisses
    • “Now come on, sweetie. We’re going to be late for our dinner reservations.”

Saeyoung

  • Legit laughs
    • “Saeyoung this isn’t a joke!”
  • “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”
  • Blushes and gets super serious
  • “If I’m being honest, I don’t care who it is, I don’t want anyone looking at you or talking to you like that. Only I should be the one to say things like that to you…”
  • He wants to know so badly who it was but you won’t tell him, you know what he’s capable of.
  • He finally gives up pestering you
  • “She was right though”
    • “Hm? What do you mean?”
  • “This shirt…”
  • He pulls you in close for a kiss while undoing the buttons on the front of your blouse
  • “…It would look better on the floor”
there's this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow | Sungjin [Oneshot]

there’s this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow

fluff | ~1.6k words | tread lightly. slightly mature content ahead aka i refuse to be held accountable for stuff i write at three in the morning with alcohol in my veins and zero sleep for the past thirty-six hours. AM makes me think of Sungjin now. What.

p.s tell me what you think anyway

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I wake up as I gaze upon the true beauty of this world. It felt like I was gazing upon the copper serpent, looking straight into the eye of the sun. As the dizziness in my head eases, and my vision starts becoming clear, I see her. That was the moment everything in my mind fell into its place. Time was of no matter now, ‘twas of no importance, compared to her presence. She was the flaming phoenix and the whispering wind. Her brown curls were branches from the great tree of life, and her blue eyes were like the ocean and the sky; exquisite beyond measurement. Her skin was pale like the finest birch, yet not as pale as the dead man I was feeling like in comparison to her. She was beauty.
—  ego ego creo deus, ‘ignite my soul’

cookiepie111  asked:

Could you please do scenario with a yandere jumin and zen (separately)

Spread the yandere love (灬♥ω♥灬) I might as well write yandere stories for all the rest of the members now lol

***THIS CONTAINS MENTIONS OF IMPRISONMENT AND SELF HARM****


Jumin: It was expected of a corporate heir like him to be stoic and composed at all times. He didn’t have time for feelings or companionship, he was still young and needed to focus on becoming the CEO of his father’s company. It had always been that way ever since he was young. Jumin was taught to be a responsible, well mannered individual that couldn’t have any imperfections or else all would fail. He had to be good at everything, and know the answers to everything.

Yet, the lack of experience with human relations was ultimately Jumin’s weakness.

His first love had been Rika. It was wrong, he knew that, but even he couldn’t control it. From the start she had belonged to Jihyun. She looked in only his way, her whispers of love only meant for his ears and no one else. Jumin never stood a chance at all, he was simply a friend to her and would always be. But in the end it was better that way, his friendship with Jihyun mattered more than a mere emotion called “love”. Jumin didn’t believe in that kind of stuff anyways, seeing his father play with so many women proved to him  how shallow “love” could be.

One day, Jihyun had suddenly arrived at Jumin’s doorstep holding something white and fluffy. It was a cat, an animal that Jumin never thought he himself would own. But the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that he would definitely cherish the white haired feline. After that, he did his best to make her happy, giving her the best toys and feeding her the most gourmet of cat foods. He thought he was satisfied with that, a pet was good enough for him, he needed nothing else.

Then you came along.

Your sudden appearance in the chatroom had shocked everyone. You were a stranger to everyone, and yet you had access to the RFA’s private messaging app. It was even more appalling that Jihyun had let you join the organization right then and there, assuming that you were somehow related to Rika in some way. Jumin wasn’t the type to trust a person right away, but he had to at least give you a chance. If Jihyun trusted you, then Jumin would too.

Though he was wary at first, Jumin had taken a liking to you. Despite having been shoved into such an unexpected situation, you had a good work ethic and didn’t seem to be bothered by your new job. Most people would have wanted to back out and run away, but instead you stayed and accepted your position. It was also nice that Jumin could talk about his cat interests freely without being judged by you, and in fact you actually agreed with him most of the time. You were surprisingly understanding and clever at times, two things that Jumin liked in a person.

One thing led to another, and you eventually ended up staying at Jumin’s house for a few days. He was surprised to see you at his doorway, your appearance mesmerizing him as he looked you over. You had come to visit him out of concern, something no one else would have done. It touched him greatly, his heart fluttering a bit as his chest grew warm. He hadn’t felt such emotions in a while, the familiar feeling scaring him a little.

The longer you stayed, the more Jumin wanted you to stay. Sure, he didn’t believe in living together before marriage, but he could make an exception if it were you. He didn’t care anymore, for once his feelings were actually returned. If he let you leave now, what if you never came back? Rika could never be his, and Elizabeth had run away from him. You were to only one that was willing to stay with him. If that were to ever change, Jumin wasn’t sure how he would react.

“Jumin, I have to leave tomorrow. The party has to be taken care of, I can’t stay here any longer.” You suddenly said that one day, while sitting next to Jumin on one of the couches in his condo.

Ah, so it had finally happened. You were finally sick of him, weren’t you? Jumin knew this paradise couldn’t last forever, but he was prepared for this already.

“But don’t you like it here?” Jumin asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

You smiled a little, taking his hand in yours. “Of course I do, but I have other responsibilities, and so do you. The party is in a few days, we can’t just ignore it.”

Was that a lie? Everyone seemed to have secrets nowadays, so maybe you did too. Jumin wanted to believe in you, but there was a thought nagging at the back of his mind. She just doesn’t wanna be with you anymore, that’s why she’s trying to leave. No, he wasn’t going to lose something precious to him again. Love was a selfish feeling, just like how selfish his father was when he continually played with all those girls. Jumin didn’t want to be like him, but he understood now how it felt. He didn’t care about anything anymore, he just wanted you to stay and be his, only his.

“Let’s take a nap together first, I want to hold you before you leave.” Jumin said as he abruptly picked you up bridal style.

You blushed and let out a small laugh, unaware of what was to happen. “Alright, I was getting tired anyways.”

Jumin carried you to his bed, a place you had never been to before. He laid you down gently, smiling at how content you were with the softness of it.

“It smells like you…” You said, burying your face into his pillow.

Chuckling, Jumin settled down beside you. “You could just stay here and enjoy it forever, if you’d like.”

You shook your head, a reaction Jumin had expected. “I still have to do lots of other things before I do that.”

“Well,” Jumin scooted closer to you until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “For now let’s just sleep, and forget everything else in this world.”

You smiled, and gladly obliged to his suggestion.

Jumin guessed that you were dreaming about good things, since you were smiling in your sleep. That smile wouldn’t be seen for a while, and Jumin was sure to miss it. But it was better to see you not smile than to not see you at all. You were sure to be surprised when you woke up, and Jumin anticipated your reaction. It was kind of sickening that he was excited about this whole event, his hands trembling as he caressed your face.

He was never going to let you leave from the start.

~

Why were your wrists feeling so heavy? You tried to move your arms, your eyes slightly opening as you tried to adjust your position. For some reasons your arms were above your head, and they were seemingly stuck there. You looked up to inspect what was wrong, your eyes widening at what you saw. Wrapped around your wrists was a metal chain, each one chained to the headpost of the bed. Shocked, you began to sit up, but your movements were restricted by the fact that your ankles were also chained to the bed.

What was going on?

“Did you have a good dream?” Jumin stepped into the room, his face stoic as ever.

You tugged at your restraints, your mind still fuzzy due to the fact that you just woke up. “J-Jumin! Why did you do this?”

Jumin’s facial expression didn’t change as he sat next to you, not even his eyes held any emotion. Despite that, his heart thumped in excitement as he looked you over. You were so beautiful like this, chained and helpless. The metal held you down nicely, it wrapped around your limbs like an exquisite design along your skin. You would never be able to get away now, your presence would always be here. The thought made Jumin breathless, he was trying hard not to show his true feelings.

“You can’t leave, ____.” He said, reaching out and taking a strand of your hair. “You’re going to stay here forever with me.”

Was your hair always this soft? The strands between Jumin’s fingers felt like silk as he twirled it around his finger. Your frightened expression was so cute, your eyes were wide with fear, and your mouth was slightly hanging in shock. He would find good use of that part of you later. Jumin finally let his lips curve up into a smile, climbing over to tower over you.

“Your life will be spent with me, there’s no need for you to leave this place.” Jumin’s hand moved to your cheek, caressing you lightly with his thumb. “I even got a gift for you.” He reached into his back pocket, taking hold of something.

“No… Please don’t do this, Jumin.” You whimpered, unable to do anything.

Jumin shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. “It’s alright ____, I won’t hurt you.” He kept smiling as he held up the object in his possession. “Look what I bought, it suits your taste right?”

It was a shiny black collar, a small diamond hanging from it. Jumin had gotten it customly made, he wanted it to be created with only the best materials suited for you. It was a way of showing how much he loved you, and how much he wanted you to be his. Your expression didn’t change though, in fact, you looked even more horrified. “J-Jumin… Please…”

“Be a good girl and let me put it on you.” Jumin’s voice was gentle, but you could tell there was an underlying tone of authority.

You didn’t say anything as Jumin’s hands went around your neck, the collar wrapping around your throat snugly. The diamond was cold against your skin as it settled there, sparkling beautifully as the light caught onto it. Jumin kissed your cheek, chuckling at the way you went rigid.

“You’ll grow accustomed to this, ____. It won’t be difficult, since I only plan on pampering you.” Jumin murmured, running his lips across your cheek.

Your scent made him want to go insane, everything about you made him want to lose control. But he would restrict himself for now, and gradually let you accept him. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting his head lay against your shoulder. Jumin would never feel the pain of not having something ever again, you were his and his to keep. If he had to be selfish, then so be it, you were better with him than with anyone else. The whole thought of it made him unable to stop smiling. Jumin loved you, he loved you so much.

“I’ll take care of you from now on, my little kitten~.” He whispered sweetly.

No one could take you away from him, ever.

Zen: It was lonely not being in a relationship. Zen hadn’t been in one for a couple of years, most of his personal time being taken up by his work. Though he did flirt a bit with women he encountered, it just never got serious. Zen really did want to have a relationship, but life was not kind at the moment, and the opportunity never came. Ah, what a sad life he lived.

For a musical actor like him, having a girlfriend was difficult. He had to deal with the fact that his fans would get super jealous, having a lover would mean that he would have to manage his time in order to have time for them, and he would have to keep his relationship on the low. His last girlfriend couldn’t deal with the difficulties, and had ended the relationship after a year. It had saddened Zen to see her go, but he still had a career to work on. Perhaps he was meant to only be a working man after all.

He didn’t expect to meet someone through the RFA.

It was a side job, something he did more out of enjoyment. It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy his actual job too, the RFA just caused less stress than being a musical actor. Plus, the RFA had fun people like Seven, Yoosung, Jihyun, and Jaehee… Jumin not so much. Other than the cat loving freak, everyone in the RFA were basically Zen’s closest friends. He didn’t expect anything else than that, just close friendships.

Your sudden arrival didn’t bother Zen. It did surprise him, considering the fact that the app was only meant for RFA members, but he really didn’t mind. You seemed to be a nice, loving, and cute person that didn’t mean any harm, and that was enough for Zen to accept you. When you two were the only ones in the chatroom, Zen found himself enjoying the conversations more than usual. This was different from when he chatted with the other members, he knew this feeling too well.

Zen was starting to like you.

He hoped the feelings were mutual, you seemed interested enough, right? Who wouldn’t fall for Zen’s good looks? His beautiful voice? Zen had everything a woman wanted, so getting to your heart couldn’t be difficult. It was just a bit challenging since you had never met him in person before, so he couldn’t charm you properly.

There was also another slight issue. Zen wasn’t sure if it was just him being paranoid, but you also seemed to be getting close to a certain secret agent. Seven was a fun person, Zen understood that, but why were you getting so… comfortable with him? His looks were nothing compared to Zen’s, his voice couldn’t reach notes as high as Zen’s, he didn’t manage himself well like Zen.

So why?

It didn’t make any sense, nothing did. Zen was the most desirable man you had probably met, yet you were getting all chummy with a weirdo like Seven. Jealousy wasn’t something he was used to feeling, and Zen definitely didn’t like it. It was like poison flowing through his veins, taking over his body and suffocating him till he couldn’t take it anymore. It eventually started to affect his career, his mind no longer focusing on the dance routines and script readings. All he could think about was you. What did you look like? What was your favorite food? Your age? What did you like doing? Why did you like Seven so much?

The thought of the red haired man caused a rush of anger, and his heart was suddenly burning with hate.

Anger did a lot of things to Zen. It made him clumsy and unaware of his surroundings, like how it suddenly caused him to go off balance and fall to the floor. There was a sharp pain in his ankle as he fell, his body slamming down on the wood tiling.

“Zen! Are you alright?”

“Someone help him up!”

The voices merged together, forming a monstrous jumble of noises in Zen’s mind. What was going on? Why was this happening? His ankle stung and burned, the pain increasing every time he tried to move. Hands pulled him from the floor, setting him down on a nearby bench. The voices continued, asking questions and endlessly speaking. Zen didn’t bother replying, still processing what just happened. He wanted everyone to shut up, he didn’t need this right now. Eventually, he was sent to the hospital by his co-workers.

It was only a sprain, it had to be. The doctor wasn’t so keen on letting Zen go so easily, but Zen knew his own body’s capabilities. He healed faster than your average human, his ankle would be fine in a few days. Of course, the first thing he did was tell the RFA about the misfortunate event. Everyone was worried, and doubted his healing powers. You were concerned too, and it made Zen feel a little bit better. Despite that, his career was still on the line.

Staying home all day wasn’t fun. Zen had nothing to do, he couldn’t even walk properly with the cast covering his foot. Playing on his phone, watching T.V, both of those options were getting old. He wanted to dance again, his legs aching for movement. On the bright side, he had more time to chat with you. He liked phone calls the most, because then he could hear your voice. It was soothing to his ears, the sound akin to a sweet lullaby. Even so, you were still so far away and unreachable. Zen’s heart had never ached so much before.

It had been a normal day when you suddenly showed up at his door. Zen didn’t know why there was such a cute girl at his doorstep, but the moment you spoke, he knew it was you.

“Hi Zen, it’s me…” You blushed, probably not used to seeing Zen’s beauty in person.

Zen smiled, his heart rate going up as he took in your appearance.

“Nice to finally meet you, ____~!”

~

“You shouldn’t move around so much, doesn’t your ankle hurt?” You were so cute, looking all concerned as your eyes caught sight of the cast on Zen’s leg.

He almost couldn’t believe it, you were actually in front of him, in person. He almost couldn’t reply due to how happy he was, his only desire was to sit and stare at you all day. It was a bit creepy, but he couldn’t help it. Was this how true love felt? He had never experienced such strong emotions for someone before.

“It’s fine~! I heal like a monster, remember?” Zen chuckled, brushing off his injury easily. “Would you like anything to eat? Drink? Ask me anything!”

Zen wanted to enjoy this time with you, he didn’t want to think about complicated things. Thankfully, the day went by nicely. Zen got to talk to you a lot more than usual, and learned more about you. He didn’t know your habits and tendencies before, but now he finally did. There was no doubt about it, you were the one meant for Zen. His feelings were legitimate, there was no going back now. All he had to do now was see if you felt the same, then everything would be perfect. Everything was going smoothly until your phone suddenly went off. It was expected for something like this to happen, since you couldn’t control when or where someone would call. As you took out your phone, Zen managed to glimpse at your screen.

Anger did a lot of things to Zen, it really did. It made him clumsy and sprain his ankle a few days ago, and now it was urging him to take your phone and throw it against the wall. Why did it have to be that person to call you right now, of all people it just had to be him. The one that was taking you away from Zen, the one that was making things difficult for Zen to completely capture your heart.

“Hi Seven! Did you need something?” Your smile was bright as you spoke to the other man, your eyes apologetic as you glanced at Zen. “Oh, you just wanted to chat? I’m kinda busy right now… Sorry…”

It was horrible, the feeling in Zen’s heart. It burned, ached, stung, it hurt in all the ways possible. His chest felt heavy, like a weight had been placed onto it, suffocating him and causing for him to breath heavily. He had felt like this before in his life, but that had been a long time ago. It had happened back when he was only a teenager, young and foolish with no control of his emotions. His family had been involved of course, they were the source of all his negative feelings back then. Zen had lashed out then, almost getting violent as he shouted and screamed at his brother, then he coldly muttered something to his parents as he left the house for good. Zen’s anger never ended well, and it wouldn’t be any different this time. But he couldn’t do that to you, he would never scream or shout in your direction ever. He had to do something else to grab your attention, to make you only care about him.

He had the perfect idea.

Zen suddenly flinched, letting out a slight grunt of pain as he reached for his ankle. “Damn it…” He muttered loudly, loud enough for you to hear.

You immediately turned to Zen, the concerned expression from earlier coming back. “Zen? Are you okay? Sorry Seven, I have to go now.” You hung up, then went to hover over the white haired man.

“I don’t know what happened, my ankle suddenly just started hurting.” Zen said.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you carefully examined the injured area. “Do you need anything? Maybe I can call your doctor or something, or grab some ice?” You sounded so distressed, Zen loved it.

Zen smiled at you, making sure to look like he was still in pain. “All I need is for you to stay with me, is that okay?”

You nodded without hesitation, willing to agree with anything Zen said. “Of course it is!”

Ah, it was so perfect. You were falling into Zen’s trap so smoothly, so effortlessly. For once, Zen was actually glad you didn’t believe in his super healing, and it proved to be useful. It was also convenient that he was an actor, since faking pain really wasn’t an easy feat for just anyone. But Zen could do it, he had the skill, looks, and talent for it. He was better than everyone else, better than that red-haired menace that wanted to take you away from him.

“Hey ____, can you only pay attention to me?” Zen asked, smiling slyly as he looked into your eyes.

You blinked, a bit confused by his request. “What do you mean?”

“It just hurts so much ____, I can’t take the pain…” Zen bit his lip, leaning on you for “support”.

You were worried again, letting him lean on you. “Shh… It’s okay, where are your painkillers?”

That made Zen chuckle, losing his composure for a moment. “You’re so funny ____, don’t you know?” He lifted himself up so his face was only inches away from yours. “My painkiller is you~.”

Your blushing expression was cute, and you were too flustered to reply. Zen simply smiled, satisfied with your reaction. This was only the beginning of his plan, you were already wrapped around his finger, caught in his trap of lies. Right now you only cared about him, only thought about him, only had him. It was meant to be this way, you and Zen were made for each other. If you ever happened to somehow drift away, Zen would simply put all the attention on himself again. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, that was all nothing. He would heal eventually, the pain didn’t matter, he just needed to be your only train of thought.

If Zen had to hurt himself to be your number one priority, then he would do it for the rest of his life.  


NOT SURE IF MAH SCENARIOS ARE TOO LONG OR SOMETHING BC IT ALWAYS TAKES FOREVER TO FINISH THEM MAYBE I JUST WORK TOO HARD ON THEM OR JUST NEED TO TAKE MORE TIME TO DO IT IDEK but I hope it’s good and you all enjoyed the yandere-ness~! If you ask for sequels then I’ll definitely do it!  ヾ(。^ω^。)ノ

I Mean It

Rating: M

Word Count: 1,387

Warning: cursing, smut, insecurities, nude modeling, Ashton being fucking adorable and nice, college au, plus size! Y/N, fluff, Michael ruins the moment  

Synopsis: Ashton draws Y/N nude.

Masterlist

Disclaimer: This gif does not belong to me, it belongs to the lovely person who made it ________________________________________________________________

 

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hot tub vore

It’s as I had hoped: the spa is nearly empty. My eyes glide over a couple women on treadmills as I pass by the glass-sealed gym. Already my stomach is growling excitedly, but I’ll have to ignore it and wait. Timing is everything.

I pick up a towel, white, fresh and perfectly folded, before I head to the back corner, past palm plants in vases, step carefully into the secluded whirlpool. The skin of my feet and legs begin to crawl, reacting to the sudden heat. Slowly I sink in, and let my eyes fall shut as I’m surrounded by nothing but my little bathing suit and this steaming water pushing and whirling from all sides.

With only my head above the water, I lurk in the hot tub for ten minutes, acutely aware of the twinging in my stomach. But finally, here comes another person – a girl in a midnight blue bikini, with beach-tossed hair and shining, luscious skin. The anticipation is killing me as I watch her lower her curves into the water. I barely notice when she smiles at me, a little unnerved by my staring. My attention is focused on her body, her flesh immersed and warming in the gushing spa. Her smell hits me like a tidal wave; a burst of saliva floods my mouth.

“Nice night, huh?” I can hear the worry in her voice, as she tries to make conversation. My eyes are fixed on her, and I’m slowly drifting closer. A final whine of impatience from my stomach, and my eager hands shoot forward and grab her arms under the water. The girl’s pupils darken with terror.

Before she can scream and call attention to us, I yank her under the water where her voice is lost in bubbles. My legs wrap around her waist, and I open my mouth over her head. My jaw twinges as it spreads wide.

I shove her headfirst into my throat and begin to swallow, only stuffing her further when she tries to kick loose. I won’t be able to hold onto her much longer, so I have to get her down fast. I clamp her struggling arms to her sides, and gulp down the upper part of her body in one swift motion. Hot tears leak from my eyes – the pleasure is so great, of feeling my stomach begin to stretch. I put both hands on the small bulge, as I toss my head back and consume more of her. The rich taste of her skin is exquisite, and I try to lap it up as more and more of her legs disappear into my mouth. My belly is stretched and filled out like that of a heavily pregnant woman; I caress the sensitive skin, feeling the weight, but I’m not done yet. With a final, hard swallow, I shove her feet down my throat, and brace myself as her whole body squeezes into the tight space of my stomach. She protests, jerking her limbs and shaking my whole body in an impressive effort. I can hear her voice bubbling inside, frantic and utterly helpless.

Sinking back with a delighted sigh, I feel around my stomach. It sticks out of the water, heavy as a rock and moving feverishly. Here in the hot tub, it almost feels like she’s cooking, boiling inside me. I give a few hiccups, barely conscious of anything beyond this floating euphoria and my swollen belly.

Splashing Around

The warm sun felt exquisite on Margo’s skin. The sand beneath her beach towel cupped every inch of her body perfectly, the rhythm of the waves lulled her in and out of sleep and her margarita was always cold and full. There was only one thing missing from this vacation.

“Are you looking for bronzed Goddess or roasted crab, because I’m pretty sure you’re starting to tip towards the latter.”

Margo rolled over to see Penny standing above her.

“Nice of you to join me. I’d ask if you got your beauty sleep in but you still look the same so clearly you need more rest.”

A grin spread across Penny’s face and a look of mischief crossed over his eyes. He reached out and touched Margo, and suddenly everything around her was very wet, and very could.

“Penny!” She gasped and grabbed onto his neck. “What did you do?”

“Well, you were smoking so I thought maybe you needed to cool off.” He shrugged and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. “Turns out you’re just hot.”

“We’re surrounded by people.” She playfully smacked him across the chest. “What if someone saw you?”

“What is this Harry Potter? ‘Don’t let anyone see you or they’ll take your magic wand away forever!’” He spun them around so that Margo was pressed up against a rock. “No one is paying any attention to us.”

“I would be really sad if they took away your magic wand. I really enjoy playing with it.” Margo reached her hand into the water and into Penny’s swim trunks. She felt him stiffen at her touch, but outwardly the only difference was a raised eyebrow.

“You really want to do that here, in the open?”

“No one’s paying attention to us. Besides, you’re well versed in this area.”

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy. If you’re starting this, than I’m finishing it.”

Penny reached down and grabbed her hand at the wrist, pulling it out of the water. He pinned it against the rock, pressing his entire body against hers in the process. She could feel his erection pressing against her, and she could see family’s playing in the water ten feet away over his shoulder.

This is why she loved him; he was always pushing her to do more adventurous things, and not many people could push Margo out of her comfort zone.

“Last chance to bail.” Penny leaned down and kissed her neck, and the mix of anticipation and excitement caused her skin to break out in goosebumps.

“Have I ever backed down from a challenge?”

“That’s what I like about you. You can keep up with me.”

He planted soft kisses in the crook of her neck, and kissed his way up to her earlobe. He nibbled on it, softly pulling on it with his teeth. Margo moaned softly, running her free hand on his chest.

“You’re going to have to be quiet if you don’t want to get caught.”

“You know that I can’t help it when you do that.”

“Well then you can have fun explaining to Quentin why we need him to bail us out of jail High Queen.”

Penny ran one hand lightly over Margo’s chest, running his thumb over her hardened nipple through the fabric of her bikini top. She bit her lip to keep from moaning again as Penny took his other hand and slid it down the front of her bottoms. She ran both her hands up his arms and grabbed both his shoulders as he began rubbing a finger lightly along her groin.

Margo’s breath hitched in her throat as he lightly flicked her clit before stroking it with his thumb. Margo looked over his shoulder wide-eyed, certain that the complete strangers around them must know what they were doing. Her heart pounded in her chest, and adrenaline was coursing through her veins causing everything to feel more sensitive.

Margo reached one hand down to push down the front of Penny’s swim trunks just enough to expose his erection. Penny pulled the bottoms of her swim trunks over and she wrapped her legs around him, grateful that they were in water deep enough that no one would be able to see her legs sticking out of the water if they happened to glance over.

Penny kissed her on the mouth to cover her groan as he began to move, placing his hands on the rock above her shoulders so that he could push her against the rock without pushing her up it in the water. Margo dropped her hands to his sides and pulled him close, trying to hide herself behind him. She could feel her orgasm beginning to build, but Penny was moving frustratingly slow.

“Faster.” She whispered, pulling away from their kiss.

“I can’t, they’ll notice.” Penny’s composure might have been 100%, but his voice was deep and husky.

“Penny please.” Margo begged, desperate for release.

Penny reached down and pulled one edge of her bottoms over so that the elastic band was rubbing against her clit, and the unexpected sensation caused Margo to dig her nails into his side. The cold water contrasting with the heat from Penny’s body and the pressure from her suit caused Margo to begin breathing heavily. She could feel Penny start to tremble beneath her, and she knew that he was close as well.

Just as she was about to go over the edge, Penny wrapped both of his arms around her, pulling her into a kiss and pulling them under water as she opened her mouth to scream. She pulled him closer as he trust one final time before reaching his own climax.

The broke the surface of the water panting, and Margo looked at Penny with newfound admiration. Never before had she done such and intimate act in the middle of a public beach.

“There you guys are!” Quentin swam up to them from around the other side of the rock. “Enjoying the nice water?”

“Yeah, we decided to take a dip.” Penny wrapped his arm around Margo and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head. Margo fought to keep a straight face, trying desperately not to think about the fact that Penny’s penis was still hanging out of his swim shorts and her bikini bottoms were still pulled to the side.

“Are you cold Margo? You’re shaking and you have goosebumps. Plus it looks like you’re face is starting to get burnt.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to go put on some more sunscreen.”

As they turned around to walk back to the beach Penny pulled up his swim trunks and reached over to readjust her bottoms before picking her up and carrying her back to her towel.

“You know, no amount of sunscreen is going to get rid of that blush.”

anonymous asked:

PLEASE WRITE MORE OF THE EGYPT/ARCHAEOLOGIST ONE!!!!! THAT WAS PROB ONE OF MY FAV PROMPT STORIES EVER. PLEEEEEEEAASE WRIRE MORE??!?!?!?

As you wish! (Here is part one of Dig In if anyone needs a refresher.)


God, she was a vision.

Black hair just brushing her shoulders, red lips he knew tasted better than the most exquisite of wines, fair skin smattered with sun-kissed freckles in places he’d like to kiss himself.

Who was he kidding?  He wanted to kiss all of her–every last inch of her as he’d been allowed to do only once in what felt like another lifetime.

“More wine?”

She was eyeballing him from across the low, small table in his tent, her body propped up by pillows, her blouse granting him a glimpse of the promise land buttoned up inside it as she held the bottle in his direction.

He extended his glass towards her, allowing her to refill his before doing the same with her own.

“This is good,” she remarked with a quirk of her brow that hinted at what it cost her to do so. “Then again, selecting a good wine seems to be your only talent.”

“That’s not what you said in Cairo,” he quipped, running his tongue over his lips, watching in satisfaction as her nipples became visible through her bra. God, he craved this woman, pined for her, burned for her with a fever he could neither explain nor was willing to admit.  How he wanted her in his arms, in his bed, under his tongue, enveloping his body.

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A Court of War and Starlight: Part 30

(Read: Part I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII | XIX | XX | XXI | XXII | XXIII | XXIV | XXV | Nessian I | XXVI | XXVII | XXVIII | Elucien I | XXIX | XXX | XXXI | XXXII | XXXIII | XXXIV | XXXV | Elucien II | XXXVI | XXXVII | XXXVIII | Nessian II | XXXIX | XL | Feyrhys I | XLI | Elucien III | XLII | XLIII | Elucien IV | Nessian III | XLIV | XLV | XLVI | Elucien V | Azriel I | XLVII | XLVIII | XLIX | L | Elucien VI | Moriel I | LI | LII | LIII | LIV | LV | LVI | LVII | LVIII | LIX | LX | LXI | Nessian IV | LXII | LXIII | LXIV | LXV | LXVI | LXVII | LXIII | LXIX | LXX | LXXI | LXXII | LXXIII | LXXIV | LXXV | Epilogue )

CHAPTER THIRTY

Rhysand and I, along with Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta joined Lord Devlon and his Illyrian commanders around a fire after the evening meal that night so that Cassian and Rhys could delegate and plan their military strategy for the coming weeks. It seemed that Autumn Court would be the first target, but the war would begin in their territory, not in Summer Court. They wanted to catch the Autumn Court fighters by surprise. There was a good deal of arguing and shouting involved. I sat beside Nesta, mostly listening. Rhys had offered to let both of us stay in the tent, but I had insisted on coming as High Lady, and he didn’t dare argue with me.

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and the wind begins to howl

Vietnam AU

It was past midnight by the time she saw Jamie again. Hours and hours of waiting in the administrative building, listening to the harried voices crackling over the radio, negotiating for doctors and nurses and bargaining for R&R and equipment.

Was it all a dream? Had today truly happened? Not just the attack – terrible as it was – but what had passed between her and Jamie, when the bullets had zinged over their heads?

He had been so – gentle. Reverent. And he tasted like everything she had always wanted.

He had saved her life – made sure she lived to see another day.

To go home – to begin medical school.

And to go back to Frank.

The dawn would lead to their parting.

She had to see him.

It would be Da Nang – like Joe had said. When she’d finally spoken with headquarters, she’d also said that she would be putting in her papers for a discharge.

She didn’t know the voice on the other end of the radio, but it sounded so very tired.

“I’ll make a note of it,” the man – who sounded unbearably young – had said. “It’s in your file. You can deal with it once you get here.”

With a few notes scribbled on the back of a requisition form, she’d stumbled out of the administration building and into the uneasy night.

The roar of the insects from the jungle was almost unbearable. Because it wasn’t drowned out with the typical sounds of humming chopper engines or pots and pans clattering in the mess hall.

Dead silence.

Except for the hum of a generator – and a radio – from the tent hastily erected at the other end of the camp.

Nobody – staff or patient – wanted to sleep in their normal beds tonight. Nobody felt like sleeping.

She had nowhere else to go.

And so she approached the tent, body screaming with fatigue, belly aching with hunger, heart irreparably cracked.

It appeared that Murphy the cook, bless him, had resurrected whatever food he could find. From the light of a few random bulbs, he served a hodge-podge to the exhausted men and women sitting on random chairs and picnic tables and whatever could be quickly salvaged by the able-bodied patients.

Forty or so people milled about – eating, sitting, speaking in hushed voices. Numb.

One soldier turned up the radio – the Armed Forces Network, no doubt.

Claire had only heard the song a few times – but immediately recognized it. The haunting guitars punctuated the deep black of the night, the impenetrable jungle all around them. Tonight, she was in another world.

“No reason to get excited // the thief, he kindly spoke // There are many here among us // Who feel that life is but a joke.”

Jamie waited for her, off to the side. In seconds she was beside him, sitting against the back of a supply crate, turned into him for comfort, his nose in her hair.

He breathed the next lyrics against her exquisitely sensitive skin.

“But you and I, we’ve been through that // and this is not our fate // So let us not talk falsely now // The hour is getting late…”

She kissed him again, there in the half-dark.

His lips echoed her pain and anguish. How she craved a home, and stability.

And love.

And him.

“Will I ever see you again?”

He swallowed, thumbs caressing the apples of her cheeks.

“You have a husband.”

“I don’t love him.”

He swiped her tears away. “But you’re still his.”

“I’m yours,” she insisted. Fierce.

“It’s not right.”

“I don’t care.”

He swallowed. Someone coughed nearby. Now Jim Morrison’s voice filtered through the huddled mass of refugees.

The time to hesitate is through…

“I’m going back to Lallybroch. It’s quiet there. On the top of a mountain. My family has lived there, farmed there, since before the Revolution – when they fled Scotland after the ’45. But it’s rural.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“*I* would. You wouldn’t be able to keep your career, Claire – it’s so far from the nearest clinic. I could never do that to you – I can’t deny you your calling.”

“Jamie – ”

“No, Claire. Do you remember my vow to you? You must go back. Back to your life – your place. Back to your husband, and the things you’re used to. It isn’t right, otherwise.”

A beat.

“Promise me you’ll look forward. Not backward.”

He was right, of course. So she nodded – she couldn’t argue with him.

But she could – and did – bring his mouth back to hers. Again, and again, and again.

Try to set the night on fire…

And when she woke, it was to an MP’s hushed voice.

From her position tucked against his side, she felt the rumble of Jamie’s response. He sat up, and she blinked wearily – body stiff from sleeping on the hard ground.

He stood – offered her a hand. She grasped it, stood – and he kissed her forehead.

Wordlessly she followed him and the MP in the dawn light – weaving through boxes and overturned chairs and countless men and nurses sleeping on the floor of the makeshift tent.

She heard the whirring blades of the chopper before she saw them.

Rupert MacKenzie stood waiting on the tarmac. He saluted Jamie.

“I’ve come to take you to Saigon,” he shouted over the roar.

How could he be so chipper, so early in the morning?

Jamie shook hands with the MP, saluted Rupert – and turned to Claire.

His eyes – fathomless – shone with tears. Her heart lurched, realizing he believed this would be the last time he ever saw her.

Her heart spoke the only words she knew to be true.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“And I, you,” he mouthed.

“Goodbye, Claire.”

Then he saluted her and turned to follow Rupert into the chopper.

Claire and the MP stepped back, watching the chopper rise up to the heavens – and into the sunrise.

He was gone.

She staggered – and the MP caught her.

“Are you all right, ma’am?”

If she kept her eyes shut, she could almost touch the edges of oblivion.

But she’d made a promise – and had to keep it.

So she stood, back straight. And turned to the young, kind MP.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, feeling her heart wither and die within her chest. “Perfectly fine.”

Hindsight: Part 4

So this is a joint birthday gift for @trina-deckers whose birthday was on Feb 5th and @repellomuggletum15 whose birthday is today. :D  I hope you enjoy this, ladies!  Happy Birthday to two of the most incredible young women I know!

If you need to catch up on the first three chapters of Hindsight, go here. Oh, and this is NSFW, just so you know.


She’s exquisitely chilled, her skin slick with the sweat of anticipation, her nakedness quivering as a slight breeze billows into their homemade cabana. He’s assured her that the sheets are drawn, that no one can see them, even if a trespasser were to stumble into this private little enclave of beach they’ve claimed as their own. Yet a thrill courses through her at the mere thought of what they’re doing.

She feels exposed, cherished, deliciously seduced, and completely wanton.

“Mrs. Locksley…”

The way he mutters her new title pulls a smile from her depths as something soft draws a slow, straight path up her right leg. A flower of some sort, she reasons as a musky, tropical scent teases her senses in more ways than one.

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anonymous asked:

no word limit, just say what you have to say about calum and his beauty

just remember that you asked me for this

Calum Hood: The Most Beautiful Boy? By: Lauren (Micool5SOS)

On January 25th, 1996 the world’s greatest treasure was born. Calum Hood, born to Joy and David Hood, grew up in a picturesque house in Sydney, Australia. He spent the majority of his early childhood and teen years playing soccer and listening to his favorite bands. His parents raised him to become a well-mannered, thoughtful, intelligent, and kind young man. As he matured, he grew into his features and developed a posh sense of style. He aspired to enter the music industry, and so he created a band with two of his peers from Norwest Christian College and a boy in a purple shirt. They named themselves 5 Seconds of Summer. The band became quite popular on youtube, and eventually were discovered and asked to accompany another well-known band on tour. Their popularity skyrocketed, and their fan base grew immensely in a very short amount of time. Calum was finally able to share his beauty with the world, and was soon given the title The World’s Most Beautiful Boy™.

Every ‘5SOS’ fan, along with many others came to the conclusion that Calum Hood was truly a beauty to behold. His allure astounded millions, and many scientists were unable to explain it’s potency. Fans of all ages from all over the globe were vulnerable to his magnificence. Many of them became too stressed to handle his existence, but he thrived, and continued to exist gracefully and humbly, as those around him admired him.

Calum had many aesthetically pleasing features. His most prominent was his award winning smile, which was held in high regard by those across the nation. Calum was of Maori descent on his mother’s side, and his skin was an exquisite caramel color. His skin also appeared to be blemish free at all times, which often perplexed those around him. His cocoa brown hair and magnificent chocolate-brown eyes, his sharp jawline, plump lips, wide nose and thick eyebrows were acclaimed by girls, boys, and genderless fans alike.

Calum was not only was beautiful in appearance, but in heart as well. He was quiet in nature, and often very timid. However, when amongst his bandmates and those he knew well, as well as many of his fans he was very excitable and bubbly. He was passionate, driven, charming, cordial, generous, well-rounded, creative, confident, outspoken, responsible, level-headed, among many other amazing qualities. He was a kind - often misunderstood - soul who wanted the best for everyone around him.

Over the course of his career and time in the spotlight, Calum has proved time and time again to be the good-natured young man that everyone believes him to be. He consistently surpasses expectations made of him, and he continues to create lyrical masterpieces and to “go ham” on his bass. He has proven himself not only as a musical artist and humanitarian, but has proven that the title The World’s Most Beautiful Boy™ was rightfully given. 

Sources:

“Calum Hood.” 5 Seconds of Summer Wiki. N.p., n.d. Web. 08 Nov. 2015.

“Calum Hood” Personal interview… with myself. 11 Nov. 2015.

Of exquisite skins and character, you bear unequivocal resemblance to a museum. Everyone is hungry for a piece of you.

But I am not hungry for a mere piece of you. A single slight piece of you would not do to curb my hunger. That would not be enough. I am hungry for every piece of you–the whole you. I want to explore all fragments of your humanity, even the fragments you deem unimportant or lackluster, from every angle and buried corner exclusively.