#[ event: pool party 2023. ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 1 year ago

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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

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nayziiz · 5 months ago

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One Night in Miami | LN4

Summary: An eventful night with a close friend turns Lando’s world upside down when he’s forced to confront his true feelings about her. As they return to normal, he cannot seem to forget their time together and neither can she. Will they find each other once again?

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Renn)

Warnings: Smut, a lot of angst, fluff

Author's note: A little context around this series, if I may. I started writing this on 24/04/24, before Lando's Miami win. All the fours in the date - IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN, is all I'm saying. Anyway, as always, please send through your feedback, suggestions, or requests!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1 - Miami 2023

Lando had invited all of his closest friends and the Quadrant team out to Miami for the Miami Grand Prix. The city buzzed with anticipation, the atmosphere electric with the excitement of the upcoming race. The streets were alive with the hum of engines and the vibrant energy of fans from all over the world.

For Lando and his friends, it was more than just a race. It was a week of fun, filming content, and partying until the sun rose over the glistening Miami skyline. Amongst the attendees was Pietra’s best friend, Renn. When Pietra moved to London, Renn was the first person she met and they instantly became good friends. It was a natural introduction to Max, Pietra’s boyfriend, and then Lando, Max’s best friend. Lando and Renn were quite literally cut from the same cloth in terms of their humour and banter. There was natural chemistry from the get-go between them.

The sun was setting over Miami as the group gathered at a beachfront bar, the warm breeze carrying the sound of laughter and music. Lando, with his infectious grin, was in the centre of it all, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. Renn, standing beside him, matched his energy effortlessly, their banter a seamless dance that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember that time we tried to film that prank video and ended up getting chased by security?” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“How could I forget? I still have a scar on my knee from hiding in that hedge!” Renn laughed, shaking her head. Pietra, sitting nearby with Max, watched the exchange with a knowing smile.

“You two are a dangerous combination,” she said, raising her glass in a mock toast. “But I have to admit, it’s entertaining.”

The days in Miami were a blur of excitement. The group spent their mornings filming content for their respective channels, capturing the essence of the city and the thrill of the Grand Prix. They interviewed drivers, explored the paddock, and even managed to get a few laps in on the track.

In the afternoons, they lounged by the pool or explored Miami’s vibrant neighbourhoods, soaking in the culture and cuisine. Renn and Lando often found themselves paired up, whether it was trying out the latest food trucks or challenging each other to a game of beach volleyball. The week culminated with the much-anticipated Miami Grand Prix. However, the race did not go according to plan for Lando or McLaren. Technical issues plagued the car, and despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t climb the ranks. He finished far lower than he had hoped, and the frustration was evident as he stepped out of the car.

In the garage, Lando was a mix of frustration and devastation. His usually bright demeanour was clouded with disappointment. Renn, always the one to lighten the mood, tried to joke around, but Lando was not feeling it. Sensing his need for support, she shifted from humour to empathy, offering a listening ear and comforting presence.

Throughout the afternoon and early evening, they had a few moments alone. Lando vented to her about his frustrations with the car, his feeling of inadequacy as a driver, and the pressure he felt to perform. Renn listened intently, offering small touches on his arm, reassuring words, and a calm presence.

Deciding to forget the entire race weekend and write it off as one to learn from and move past, Lando and the group decided to go out clubbing. The vibrant Miami nightlife beckoned, promising an escape from the day’s frustrations. The city’s pulsating energy was the perfect antidote to their subdued spirits. They headed to one of Miami’s hottest clubs, a place known for its electric atmosphere and celebrity sightings. As they entered, the thumping bass of the music enveloped them, and the flashing lights painted the scene in vibrant colours. Lando led the way, determined to let loose and shake off the negativity of the race.

On the dance floor, the group immersed themselves in the music, moving to the rhythm and letting the beat drive away their worries. Lando and Renn danced together, their chemistry undeniable as they laughed and moved in sync. For a while, the frustrations of the day melted away, replaced by the sheer joy of the moment. At the bar, they ordered rounds of exotic cocktails, toasting to friendship and resilience. Lando, his spirits lifted by the music and the company, found himself smiling and laughing more freely. Renn stayed close, her presence a steady source of comfort.

Later, as the night deepened and the club continued to buzz with life, Lando and Renn found themselves on the rooftop terrace, looking out over the city. The Miami skyline was a breathtaking sight, a sea of lights stretching out into the horizon.

“I needed this,” Lando admitted, leaning on the railing. “Just to forget about today, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“We all need to let go sometimes. You’ll come back stronger, Lando. I know it,” Renn nodded, her gaze fixed on the distant lights.

Despite her reassurance, the disappointment in his race result lingered. Lando couldn't shake the frustration gnawing at the back of his mind. As the group continued to revel in the club’s intoxicating atmosphere, one drink led to the next and the next. The flashing lights and pulsing music blurred together, creating a haze that Lando eagerly embraced, hoping to drown out the nagging sense of failure.

Renn stayed by his side, matching him drink for drink, her laughter and energy unwavering. She knew he was still struggling and wanted to be there for him, even if it meant getting a little too drunk herself. Their friends cheered them on, oblivious to the deeper emotions at play. At some point, the decision to leave was made - perhaps unspoken but mutually understood. They stumbled out of the club, giggling and leaning on each other for support. The cool night air hit them, a stark contrast to the club’s warm, enclosed chaos. They ordered an Uber, collapsing into the backseat in a fit of laughter, still trying to keep the party going.

As the car sped through Miami’s neon-lit streets, the city’s energy seemed to pulse in time with their still-racing hearts. They exchanged slurred stories and jokes, but beneath the surface, Renn could see the tension in Lando’s eyes. The alcohol had numbed the sharp edge of his disappointment but hadn’t erased it. When they reached the hotel, they managed to navigate the lobby with a mix of stealth and stumbling, trying to keep their giggles under control. Renn’s hand was a steadying presence on Lando’s arm, guiding him towards the elevator and up to his room.

Inside, the room was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant noise they had left behind. Renn flicked on a lamp, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. Lando collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping as the weight of the day settled back onto him. The party, the drinks, and the laughter had been a temporary reprieve, but now reality crept back in. Renn watched him closely, her own drunken haze giving way to concern. She could see he was still not himself, the disappointment etched in his features despite his attempts to mask it.

“Lan,” she said softly, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his back. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

He looked at her, his eyes tired and a bit glassy from the alcohol.

“I just... I wanted this weekend to be different,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I feel like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down. Things just didn’t go as planned. It happens. But it doesn’t define who you are or what you can do,” She shook her head, her hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“I know that, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m not good enough sometimes,” Lando sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“You are more than good enough. One bad race doesn’t change that. You’ve got so many people who believe in you, who see how incredible you are,” Renn moved closer, her hand shifting to hold his.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, the closeness providing comfort to them both. For a moment, they sat in silence, the room’s quietude enveloping them. The world outside continued its frenetic pace, but in this small bubble, they found solace in each other’s presence. The alcohol’s numbing effect was beginning to wane, but the warmth of Renn’s words and touch remained, helping to ease Lando’s troubled mind.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?” she asked, her voice soft with worry. Lando sighed, the weight of his emotions evident in his response.

“No,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Not at all.”

Renn’s heart ached for him.

“Should I stay with you until you fall asleep?” she offered gently. He looked up at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” Lando conceded.

The next moments were a blur of movement and quiet coordination. Lando stripped off his shirt, the sight of his toned torso briefly catching Renn’s attention. He then grabbed his sleep trunks and disappeared into the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, Renn began discarding the thousands of pillows that adorned the bed, creating a comfortable space for them to settle in. When Lando returned, he held out one of his shirts for her.

“Here, you can change out of that,” he said, gesturing to her sequined dress that shimmered under the soft light.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking the shirt with a grateful smile.

Renn went into the bathroom to change into the cool cotton shirt, a welcome relief from the constricting dress. It smelled faintly of him, a comforting blend of cologne and something uniquely Lando. When she emerged, she found Lando already in bed, looking slightly more at ease in his sleep trunks.

She slid into bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Without hesitation, Lando moved closer, laying on top of her, his head resting on her chest. The proximity was intimate, yet felt completely natural. She began brushing his hair back, twirling his curls between her fingers in a soothing rhythm.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and warm. Renn’s touch seemed to calm Lando, his breathing slowing as he relaxed against her. She could feel the tension leaving his body, replaced by a soft, sleepy tranquillity. Eventually, Lando looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with a vulnerable intensity. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, heartfelt kiss that conveyed all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. Renn kissed him back, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her heart swelling with a mix of tenderness and affection. When they finally pulled apart, Lando rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Renn smiled, her hand caressing his cheek.

“Always,” she replied softly.

As the minutes passed, their quiet touching took on a different quality. It was still gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something more intense. Lando’s hand began to move, tracing slow, deliberate paths up and down her side. His fingers grazed her ribs, slipped under the hem of the shirt she wore, and rested on the smooth skin of her hip.

Renn’s breath hitched slightly, her heart beating faster in response. She continued to twirl his curls, her other hand drifting to his back, where she traced light patterns with her fingertips. The tension between them grew, an unspoken understanding passing through their shared glances and touches.

Lando’s hand ventured further, moving up her inner thigh and over her underwear, pausing briefly at her hip bone before slipping under the shirt yet again. The sensation sent a shiver through Renn, her body reacting to his touch. She looked down at him, their eyes locking in a moment of mutual recognition. His fingers continued their exploration, brushing against the sensitive skin just below her ribs. Renn’s hand stilled in his hair, her breath catching as his touch sent sparks of sensation through her. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with the tension building between them.

Slowly, Lando shifted, lifting himself slightly to look into her eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. He leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, fueled by the emotions they had been holding back. Renn responded eagerly, her hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer. Their kisses grew more urgent, a silent communication of their need for each other. Lando’s hands roamed under the shirt, finding the curves of her body and memorising every inch with his touch.

With a gentle but insistent tug, Lando pulled the shirt up and over her head, discarding it to the side. He paused to take in the sight of her, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. Renn reached up, cupping his face and pulling him back down for another deep, passionate kiss. While their kisses intensified, Lando’s hands continued their exploration, his touch sending waves of pleasure through Renn. She arched into him, her body responding to his every movement. His mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, each touch igniting a new flame of sensation.

Renn’s hands were not idle either. She traced the lines of his muscles, her fingers memorising the feel of him. She slid her hands under the waistband of his sleep trunks, encouraging him to shed the last barrier between them. Lando complied, kicking off his trunks and returning his attention to her. She pushed her panties to the side before he pushed his tip through her folds. He moved slowly as he entered her, savouring each moment of contact. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, the warmth and closeness intensifying their connection.

The intensity between them surged, and suddenly they were fucking like prisoners who had just been released after a ten-year sentence. Their movements were frantic, fueled by a desperate need to feel each other fully. There was no room for hesitation; only raw, unfiltered desire. Lando's hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust into her with a fervour that spoke of all the emotions he had bottled up throughout the day. Renn matched his intensity, her nails digging into his back as she arched against him, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with equal force.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. The bed creaked under the strain of their passion, but they paid no mind. Every touch, every kiss was a release, a cathartic expression of everything they felt for each other. Lando's mouth found hers again, their kisses bruising and desperate. He moved faster, deeper, their shared rhythm driving them both to the edge. Renn cried out his name, her voice a mixture of pleasure and urgency, urging him on.

The tension built to a breaking point, their bodies trembling with the force of their connection. They came together in a shattering climax, their cries mingling as they clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over them. Afterward, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and still trembling from the intensity of their lovemaking. Lando rested his head on Renn's chest, listening to the rapid beat of her heart as their breathing slowly returned to normal. It had been the first time something like that had happened between them. Sure, they shared a few kisses every so often when he would be gone for a few weeks, but nothing like that, never full blown, passionate lovemaking.

“Fuck,” Lando moaned, the tension gone from his body. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to break their skin-to-skin contact, but he also wanted to clean her up after cumming inside her. Renn felt his hesitation and gently cupped his face.

“It's okay,” she whispered, smiling softly, her fingers brushing over his cheek. He nodded, kissing her tenderly before reluctantly pulling away.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, slipping off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

Renn watched him go, feeling a strange mix of contentment and vulnerability. The intensity of their lovemaking had left her breathless, but she also felt a deep sense of connection with Lando that went beyond physical pleasure. Lando returned with a warm, damp cloth and a look of tender concern on his face. He carefully cleaned her, his touch gentle and reverent. It was a quiet, intimate moment that spoke of his care and respect for her.

Once he was done, he discarded the cloth and slid back into bed beside her, pulling her close. They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them filled with unspoken emotions. The disappointment of the day was a distant memory, replaced by the warmth they had found in each other's arms.

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byuntrash101 · 2 years ago

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skinny dipping

reader x dom!mingi

smut | nsfw | mdni

pink hair!mingi (this is not a drill), gentle dom!mingi, swim team captain!mingi, established relationship, pet names (baby, babygirl, angel), doing the nasty in the university pool, mingi loves eye contact (can't stress this enough), mingi is big, mingi is huge (and he has the b.i.g. package that goes with it), oral (m), deepthroat, praising, facial, cum play

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

your boyfriend he is so focussed on training for the upcoming championship he forgot tonight was supposed to be date night but maybe he can make it up to you with a relaxing massage in the pool

[❛ you look good like this. ❜ + ❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

a/n: this for pinkgi you were short lived but you'll never be forgotten <3

“Mister Swim Team” you mumbled to yourself as you punched through the padded sleeves of your winter coat.

“Mister Team Captain” you continued as you grabbed the keys to your dorm room and headed out into the cold snowy campus.

“Mister “always-training”. Mister “i-forgot-i-promised-a-movie-night-to-my-lovely-and-beautiful-and-perfect-girlfriend-that-i-don’t-deserve”

You humed to yourself satisfied with this brand new and suiting title you found for Mingi.

You walked across the campus at night to the university pool. The cold winter discouraging every student to throw parties outside it was pretty quiet.

When you pushed in the doors the strong smell of chlorine jumped at your throat. This smell was undeniably associated with your boyfriend and you felt an upsurge of irritation at the thought of him happily splashing around in the pool while you waited for hours at your dorm.

You went through the lockers and spotted his clothes hanging on the rack. You kicked your shoes hastily and walked with big strides to the main pool. The whole building was dark, only the emergency lighting was shining on your bare feet and allowed you to navigate the halls.

You walked through the showers and pushed in the double door as you spotted movement in the middle of the big pool lit only with the in-water lamps.

“YA SONG MINGI!!!!” you shouted, conscious he probably had water in his ear up to his thoughtless dumb little brain.

You saw his confused face emerging from the water and you walked to the edge of the pool while he swam to the shallower side. You tapped your bare foot on the wet tiles and crossed your arms on your chest.

Once he could reached the pool floor and he walked up to you. You tried to concentrate on the way he looked with his dump little swimming goggles and his stupid little swimming cap instead of the perfectly shaped swimmer's ’s body that was gradually peeking out the water, sculpted and defined muscles contracting while water droplets rolled off his perfectly smooth skin.

You gulped as you let your eyes trail down but your eyes snapped back to his face when he stopped. The water leveling with his hips.

“Didn’t you forget about something today?” you started, each syllable dripping with reprimand. He looks back at you confused, his mouth agape which doesn’t miss to infuriate you a little more.

“I’m guessing I did” he says, cracking an apologetic smile and nervously scratching his neck.

“Min!!” you whine while stomping the wet floor in frustration. “You promised me we were going to watch a movie at my dorm tonight” you complained, your angered brows transforming into a disappointed pout.

“No way!” he exclaimed. “Is it thursday already?” he asked, checking the fitbit he had around his wrist.

You stay silent as he slowly realizes he unintentionally stood you up.

“Oh my gosh baby I’m so sorry” he said, taking the goggles off. Eyebrow knitting in regret as he slips the swimming cap off. The pink locks of dampened hair forming little spikes on top of his head as he brushes the stubborn strands out of his eyes.

The pink hair was the result of a lost bet with Seonghwa. You couldn't blame Seonghwa for picking this cut and color as a punishment. It should have been perfect. This style wouldn't look good on anybody. But of course Song Mingi wasn't anybody. It was supposed to make him look ridiculous but you can’t help to think the expected effect failed miserably. He’s more handsome than ever and that absolutely plays in his favor.

Suddenly his eyes seem to light up.

“Come in the water with me I’ll make the pool your private spa.” he said with a smile, tapping the surface of the water in an inviting way. But you only sigh.

“I don't have my swimsuit Min” you exhale as you roll your eyes at him.

“So?” he instantly retorts. “It’s just us here. Just take off your clothes and come join me” You squint your eyes, suspicious of the intentions of the pink haired man.

“Plus, I went to the technical room and upped the temperature. The water is perfect” he throws as a final argument, wiggling his eyebrows. You could really use a nice and stress relieving warm spa to ease up your tensed up and cold muscles… But still what if somebody comes…

“I don’t know Min...”

As if reading your mind, you see him throw something onto the border of the pool, looking closer it appears to be his swimsuit.

“See we’re even now”

When Mingi sees you slip out the padded coat he absolutely beams at you. You don't even take the time to neatly fold your clothes, you just pile them in a corner that seems to be dry and quickly slip in the water before somebody actually sees you.

As soon as you slip in you sigh in relief. One thing your stupid boyfriend wasn’t is a liar and he didn't play you. The water is indeed absolutely divine.

“Come here my baby” Mingi opens his arms and you rush to him. Mingi’s large body envelops you completely as he crosses his arms over your stomach planting soft kisses on the crown of your head.

“My adorable baby girl” he whispers as his big warm hands travel up your forearms to land on your shoulders. He started rubbing tight circles at the base of your nape with his thumbs applying just the right amount of pressure to your shoulder blades with his palm, his hands sliding up to your shoulders to gently pinch your trapezius muscles. You sigh in relief, already you feel the tension melting away in the warm water and under Mingi's expert touch.

He repeats the motion again and again until you forget all about why you were mad in the first place, gently letting your body sink back into his broad chest as you could only hear Mingi’s soft breathing, the water gently clapping against the tiled edges of the pool and the soothing buzzing of the water filtration system.

“I’m sorry my angel” he whispers as he gently lays a soft kiss onto the shell of your ear.

“You better be” you respond softly not opening your eyes.

“I am. But I'm glad you’re here with me now” you feel his lips being stretched in a smile. As he kisses down your neck his hands slide down to the small of your back to massage the soft skin there.

“Yes but I really wanted to watch that movie with you” you pouted again as you peeled one eye open.

“We will I promise baby” he keeps on rubbing circles onto your skin below the water level and you sigh again, your eyebrow relaxing on your forehead.

“It’s just that…” you start. “I missed you that's all” you continued.

Mingi hums lips pressed against your skin.

“Is that so?” his hands slipped to your hips as you felt a slight change in his tone. “ How much?” he asked.

“A lot” you want to add more but you’re interrupted when he sinks his sharp teeth into the soft skin of your neck and draws a shaky breath out of you.

“Show me how much you missed me” he whispers in your ear as he rolls his hips, pressing his growing arousal onto your back. You catch your lip between your teeth.

"I missed you that much" you turn around in his arms and plant an open mouth kiss at the base of his neck. You feel a low vibration erupt from his throat as he leans his head back and sighs deeply. Giving you unlimited access to his heated skin.

The familiar chlorine taste feels your mouth as you press your hardened nipples onto his broad and toned swimmer's chest. His large hands travel down the small of your back to cup your cheeks.

You link your lips to his. Letting him devour you with the burning hunger that you know and love. That consuming passion he had for you.

He gives a squeeze to your ass and you moan into his mouth, guts stirring around in need for him.

When he parts from you, you whine in regret for the soft cushiony feeling of his plump lips in yours.

"Really baby? Only this much. Looks like you were doing just fine on your own" he whispers in your ear before licking around the shell of it, lifting goosebumps on your skin.

A sharp spark of electricity burns through your core when you spot the teasing smirk of your boyfriend. Mischievous dark eyes challenging you to do more. To go further.

And it works. You forget about your now distant fear of getting caught in the most indecent position in the university pool and push him to the tiled edge. Without even having to tell him he prompts himself up and sits on the flange.

The raging hard member springs in front of your face. Finally being revealed to your eye, like an offering gifted by the waters and ready for you. You found your place nested between your beautiful boyfriend's ample and muscular thighs. Water droplets trailing down his muscles and making his soft skin glisten under the dim teal blue light of the pool.

You wrapped both hands around the base of his cock and aimed the tip at your lips. As you licked the shiny slit, the taste of chlorine mixed with Mingi’s salty and bitter flavor, making your head spin. It put you in a kind of trance that made your mind blank. Your five senses unable to perceive anything that wasn't him. In this state you were craving, yearning for more of him. You had the irrepressible need to taste more, see more, feel more.

An indisputable urge that pushed you to wrap your lips around his hot tip and glide your mouth all the way down to his base where your lips met your hands. Earning a guttural groan from the pink haired man as you did so.

"Look at me" he struggled to say as he pushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to your forehead. When your eyes snapped up to meet his he was unrecognizable. The sharp half lidded eyes peering down at you were filled with sin, wet tongue swiping on his bottom lip before biting it down. There was nothing left of the sweet boy that was happily splashing around in the water earlier.

"You look good like this" he sighed. "So fucking pretty with my cock down your throat" his voice was merely a low rumble at his point. As you felt the tears prickling your eyes you pulled back letting only his tip hang from your lips.

You pushed your mouth back down on his length, not stopping when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, diligently pushing it past the first resistance to take him down your throat. The tip laying flat on the back of your tongue lightly triggered your gag reflex and your eyes became slightly watery when you looked back up at Mingi again. He wore the smug grin of satisfaction he always had when you gagged on him.

“Too big for you baby?” he asked wet clumped up hair forming pink spikes on top of his head while droplets of water ran down his long neck. Smug smirk playing on his lips.

You wanted to kick that grin right off his pretty lips and you knew exactly how. A fast and very efficient way. You gave him a hard suck, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled your mouth back on his length. The effect was immediate. Mingi dropped the cocky smile to catch his lower lip between his teeth. Eyebrows meeting on his forehead while he hissed in pleasure. Somehow still managing to hold back a guttural moan. But not for long. You settled a rhythm you knew was deadly, your hand wrapped around his base, accompanying your mouth with every coming and going.

“Fuck baby.” you heard Mingi as you felt his hands holding your wet hair back out the way. “your mouth feels so good” he praised as you saw in your peripheral vision his other hand holding for dear life to the edge of the pool, knuckles turned white, nails clawing at the blue tiles.

You hummed in satisfaction and the vibrations that came along with it rocketed him to the edge a lot sooner than he had hoped. He threw his head back, loud moans and lewd wet sounds echoing in the large empty space.

You persevered with a couple more of the back and forth until you felt him tense his fingers around your locks of hair, holding you back slightly.

“Baby if you don't slow down…” his words got caught in his throat when you popped him out of your mouth. He let out a sigh he didn’t know if it was out of relief or disappointment. But he didn't have time to figure it out because before he realized it you were jerking him off at a rapid pace. Both your hands perfectly gliding around his slick cock, your palm closing at the tip to push more precum out of the seeping slit.

“Fuck yes baby. Like that hmmm” he instructed, lust filled half lidded eyes falling back on you.

“You like it like this?” you asked as you were now the one wearing the cocky smile.

“Yes!! Yes” he hastily responded, big muscular thighs tensing up, jerking his hips in your hands.

You hummed again, rejoicing on the wonderful expressions he was making. Chest and neck almost as pink as his hair, mouth agape and shiny tongue prodding against the corner of his lips.

“I wanna cum on your face” he announced as his fist still around your hair guided your face to be repositioned right under his fat cock. You place yourself to look up at him, still firmly gripping his throbbing cock, working it up and down.

“Keep your eyes open” he instructs. "Keep looking at me. Want you to look at me when I cum for you" The smirk is long gone, a distant memory. The only expression you can read on his face is now need. An incredible urge for you to finish what you started. And so you do.

Mingi’s raspy deep voice goes down even lower and is the first indicator of his incoming orgasm. He grunts and groans as you feel his large and swollen cock twitch uncontrollably in your firm grip. The first shot of cum splits your face right in half. Thick line of cum from lips to forehead. You can't help but swipe your tongue on your lips to harvest his precious nectar. His taste clouding your mind as he continues to paint all over your features. Large thick ropes of scolding hot cum shooting across your face and crashing on your cheeks, lips and even as far as your hair. Until Mingi is completely drained, one last little whimper of satisfaction leaving his lips as he wipes the sensitive tip against your open lips.

“Hmmm so much cum just for me” you coo.

Mingi doesn't peel his eyes off you for a second, the sharp gaze burns holes into you and the smile gradually takes its rightful place back on his lips as he watches you lick yours clean off his nectar, eyes rolling back from the relishing taste.

“Let’s go back to the dorm and I'll show you how much I missed you.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hoped you liked the pinkgi content! that look wrecked me to the deepest confines of hell and i just HAD to write something. that is what my mind came up with. hope you liked it please leave a comment if you did. any support/feedback is greatly appreciated <3

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holdmytesseract · 11 months ago

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Birthday Magic

Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everybody around you tends to forget your birthday, because of all the Christmas trouble. Except Loki, of course...

Warnings: none, except a tiny bit of suggestive smut (Blink and you'll miss it.), fluuuuff

Word Count: 1,9k

a/n: This fluffy lil' oneshot is a part of @fictive-sl0th 's Secret Santa Event! 🎅🏻🎁 I had the honour to write mine for @give-me-a-moose ! 🤗 I really hope you like this! 🥰 And happy belated birthday! 💚

Secret Santa 2023 Taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficionaldomina @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @cultofcarter @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @glitchquake @holymultiplefandomsbatman @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @quirkiest-turtle

Tags: @huntress-artemiss @chennqingg @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @goblingirlsarah @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds

divider by the lovely @jiyaxedits <3

Yawning, you stretched and opened your eyes; blinking, before you reached over to turn off your alarm clock. The winter sun shone through the big French doors of your bedroom. You immediately saw that it had snowed over night; a white blanket covering New York City. It was beautiful - and yet was a certain sadness overshadowing the wonders of winter...

You sighed and rolled out of bed; finding a little note on your bedside table - like every day. Even when Loki was on a mission, the note appeared on your night-stand magically.

'Good morning, angel. Have a great day. I love you. x'

Your boyfriend's words made you smile at least a little bit, until realisation hit you. He didn't remember. Of course he didn't remember. Nobody ever does.

You hung your head; trying to suppress the upcoming tears. Today was your birthday, but since it was December and Christmas in not even two weeks, hardly anyone remembered your birthday. Everyone was just too caught up in the preparations for the holidays. And as sad as it sounded... You got used to it. Perhaps that was the reason why you stopped telling people about your birthday.

With another sigh, you made your way into the kitchen to eat a little something for breakfast. Then you got ready, put on your winter coat, boots and beanie and went to work.

Luckily, it was at least a normal day at the office. The regular every-day madness. You quickly got all the things done on your to-do list and were even able to call it a day one hour earlier than usual. After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you took the subway and headed back home. On your way, you got a chocolate cupcake - a little something for yourself to celebrate your birthday. You could already picture it... You, the cupcake, decorated with a single candle and a big glass of alcohol. Perfect.

Sighing, you turned the key in the lock of your apartment on the 5th floor. You absolutely had zero expectations of today and expected not the slightest thing to happen. Therefore, you were more than just surprised, when you walked inside a literal pool out of balloons, birthday decorations and... confetti? You frowned; thinking out loud. "What...?"

You weren't able to finish your thoughts, when suddenly Loki jumped around the corner. "Surprise, my love!" He wore the biggest smile on his face - and a party hat on his head. "And the happiest of birthdays to my ray of sunshine!"

You blinked; felt like a deer caught in the headlights. It was beyond your wildest dream. Never ever surprised you somebody on your birthday like Loki just did. Sure, your parents did, back when you were a child, but... Late teens and early adult years? Nope.

"L-Loki? I-I... What... What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be o-on a mission?" You stammered out; trying to grasp this. Your boyfriend was still smiling like a Cheshire cat. "Of course not, darling. It was just a little white lie, so that I was able to set this up while you're at work." Then his smile faltered a little. "Do you not... like it?"

You could've cried then and there out of happiness.

"What? No! No! I do like it! Gods, I love it! It's been years since the last time somebody surprised me on my birthday like this!" You couldn't help yourself but to jump into his arms; wrapping your legs around his waist. "Thank you. Thank you so much, baby." Loki chuckled; his big hand stroking your back in a reassuring, loving manner. "I-I thought you forgot my birthday... Just like everyone else and-" "Darling..." Loki interrupted you immediately. "I could never forget the birthday of the person I love the most in all the nine realms - and especially not the first birthday we are about to share together."

A few tears ran down your cheeks. Tears of happiness. "You're the best." A low chuckle rumbled through your boyfriend's chest again, before he gave you a wink, "I know." and a smile. "And this..." He gestured around the hallway. "This is only the beginning."

Loki didn't exaggerate when he said that this was only the beginning. Oh no... After he had carried you through the sea of balloons into the kitchen, he showed you the cake he had baked for you. You were absolutely thrilled of course, and it tasted delicious. You blew out the candles and ate a big slice, just like Loki.

After that, he told you to wrap yourself up in warm clothes, because you were going outside. And again, you weren't in the slightest prepared. You wouldn't have thought that Loki rented the ice rink only for the two of you... For as long as you wanted.

"Loki, are you... Are you insane?" You laughed; not believing what was happening right now. The god just laughed and tied the laces of his ice skates, "Insanely in love, perhaps." before he glided gracefully on the ice rink. "Are you joining me now, my love?" He asked with a mischievous smirk, while he skated like the ice prince he was past you. You smiled brightly and quickly exchanged your boots with ice skates.

After you and Loki have been enjoying yourselves on the ice rink; making races and even tried to 'dance' to the music playing in the background together, you went back to your apartment. Cold and with frozen toes, but happy.

"I think I need a hot shower now," you said; feeling the goosebumps on your skin. "You do just that, darling." "Won't you join me?" You asked suggestively; wagging your eyebrows. Loki chuckled. "I'd love to, but I have a few more things to organise. I'll see you later. Take all the time you need." He pressed a sweet kiss on your lips and left you alone to shower. You were slightly sad that Loki wasn't going to join you, but you were also super excited. This birthday was already the best you ever had. What would be able to top that?

Wallowing in the memories of the wonderful hours you already spent with Loki today, you showered and stepped thirty minutes later out of the bathroom. To your surprise was your apartment immersed in darkness - and your boyfriend vanished.

"Loki?" You hesitatingly called down the hall, but received no answer. "Where is he?" you mumbled to yourself; making your way to the bedroom. Arrived there, you switched on the lights and immediately saw a large, thin box laying on the soft mattress. Frowning, you approached the bed. A note was laying on top of it, on which you could clearly make out Loki's handwriting.

'I hope this dress is worthy of the goddess who is going to wear it. You will be awaited downstairs at eight o'clock.'

Your heart almost stopped at his words. A big smile formed on your face. Biting your lip, you carefully opened the box - only to find a beautiful emerald green dress inside it. It was so stunningly beautiful, it took your breath away. With wide eyes, you lifted it out of the box; gasping. "Oh he can't be serious... He can't..." You let your eyes roam the fabric. "Wow..." You breathed in awe, then squealed; excitedly getting ready and dressed. The dress fitted you perfectly; molded against your dips and curves.

Five minutes before the clock stroke eight o'clock, you made your way downstairs. Excitement and nervousness coursed through your body. You couldn't wait to see what Loki had planned.

When you stepped out of the main door to the rather small building you lived in, you felt your breath catch in your throat - again.

Loki was standing on the sidewalk, in front of a black limousine; dressed in a green velvet suit with a black dress shirt and bow tie. A bouquet of black roses was in his right hand; his other stuffed in his trousers pocket and a bright smile on his face.

He looked devastatingly handsome.

You felt like fainting and crying out of happiness at the same time.

"There you are, my love." He said in a happy voice; "You look ravishing." giving you that smouldering look. You blushed. "T-Thank you. You look handsome, t-too." The god softly shook his head; causing his long raven curls to sway. "Not remotely as beautiful as you look."

He then stepped closer; gave you a soft kiss and handed you the bouquet of roses. "T-Thank you. For everything. For the cake, the ice skating, the dress, the roses..." Loki only chuckled; placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you towards the limousine. "Like I said, darling... It's only the beginning. We are not finished yet." Mischief twinkled in his beautiful blue orbs, as he opened the car door for you.

"After you, my goddess."

You blushed even more and sat in the car.

A fifteen minute car ride later, you stopped in front of one of the finest, noblest restaurants in whole New York City. Once more, your jaw dropped. "No, Loki... You... You are kidding me, right?" Your boyfriend chuckled; shaking his head "I'm not." "B-But Loki, this... This is way too expensive! I-I don't deserve this, I-" He interrupted you by taking your hand in his and placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles. "You, my love, deserve the world. Especially on the day you were born."

He led you inside the fancy restaurant then, to a table he had reserved for the both of you.

The time you spent there with Loki was splendid - just like the food. It had been quite a while since you ate so good. Especially at a restaurant. The ambience was lovely and the waiters absolutely kind and friendly. You enjoyed the talks with Loki, the glasses of wine and also the soft jazz music in the background.

After the dinner, the limousine took you and Loki back home.

"Thank you for this wonderful day, baby. I didn't have such a wonderful birthday in years. Thank you for thinking of me and giving me all this. And especially... Thank you for your love." Loki smiled and embraced you; gently, lovingly swaying you from side to side. It almost felt like you were dancing.

"You don't have to thank me for that, my love. It goes without saying. I love you - and my purpose is to make and see you happy. Oh, which reminds me of something... Your actual birthday present..." Your eyes widened once again. "No, Loki, stop you've given me enough..." Loki shook his head; still smiling. "It's not a physical present."

Now you were confused. Something the god noticed immediately.

Loki took both your hands in his. "Your birthday present is a trip to Asgard."

You stared at Loki; speechless. "W-What?" He just smiled. "I know that you always wanted to go there; see my home and... I... I think I'm ready to go back with you and show you everything you wish to see." "R-Really?" He nodded. "Really."

Tears formed in your eyes. The realisation hitting you that Loki was willing and ready to open up the doors to his past for you was touching you deeply. "Thank you. Thank you for trusting me this much, I- Wow, I... I love you."

Loki smiled. A gentle hand caressed your cheek and wiping your tears of happiness away. "I love you too."

You couldn't help but to stand on your tiptoes and kiss the god.

"This is the best birthday ever!"

#secret santa event #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader

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damianbugs · 1 year ago

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i spoke about this briefly before, and i think i have my thoughts more collected now to develop on it; i feel like comics which show bruce comforting his child self in flashbacks of the wayne murder in crime alley understand the purpose of batman a lot more than the ones that have him talking to his parents.

if you've been keeping up with recent batman comics, then you'll notice a theme of bruce getting the chance to talk to his younger self. the important part though, is that it is not because of time travel or some detached third party force — it's the young bruce in batman's head.

it's the him hidden behind the black door in his mind when he's fighting his nightmares —

Batman Knight Terrors #2, 2023. written by Joshua Williamson.

— and it's the him tucked away in corner of his mind after being drugged and tortured with his greatest fears.

Detective Comics #1075, 2023. written by Ram V.

after experiencing something traumatic, the one bruce sees suffering from it isn't himself, but the young bruce wayne in the alley. because at the end of the day, every hurt circles back to that night, to that boy, that he can't save no matter how hard he tries — because that boy never left the pool of blood he was sitting in.

i think people often attribute the existence of batman as something created for his parents. to avenge them, or to be the symbol that could have saved their life had he existed before, to stop anyone else from being killed in the same way. there's some truth to that, however, to me, the answer is a little more selfish.

i think it has always been for himself, but not the him now, but the him that is still stuck in that alleyway, waiting over his parents dead bodies. batman is a symbol of hope and reformation and justice, but at its core, batman is what saved bruce wayne.

as a result, the panels above have a very different feel to say, this moment when bruce sees an illusion of his parents in Superman/Batman #56, 2009. written by Michael Green and Mike Johnson.

it's an emotional moment for sure, but it didn't quite speak to me the same way this absolutely phenomenal moment did in Batman: Blind Justice, 1989. written by Sam Hamm.

of course this moment is a lot more cynical in how bruce uses batman to cope with his guilt, while the other moments focus on batman providing young bruce with the hope to continue that he isn't alone — the sentiment of batman being the one to pick him up from the floor and lead him away from the scene in a shared motif.

it reminds me of that one discussion that batman is a victims power fantasy. his own fantasy! because bruce has — in order to have a semblance of control over himself — separated himself from this event that it is a completely different child at the scene of the crime. it's this fact that let's him reach down, hold the boy's hand and tell him everything will be okay.

this bruce wayne is a child, his child, gotham's child, thomas and martha wayne's child, an orphan to protect.

batman was made for children like bruce wayne, to stop them from becoming like him and for them to hold onto when it does — because batman is still trying to fix a problem that has an endless hole. he can never reconcile this trauma and let the boy in the alley leave, because that's not what batman was made for.

batman was made to protect the little boy, and in order to do that, he must remain in that alley.

there's still a bruce wayne who had to grow up, who learned to fight and love and lose again and again, a bruce wayne who becomes batman. a batman who then, tries effortlessly to fix problems and save people, who goes out everynight because if he doesn't, then that boy in the alley is left there for nothing.

then there comes a moment where he falls through the cracks and he's face to face with the child who can't leave and can't grow up and knows nothing but loneliness and grief — and batman gets to tell this child that life becomes more than just this alley.

the child is happy, if even for a moment, that batman is there. that's what batman is for.

#okay this got away from me at some point #i just. i care about this ridiculous character a lot #i hope this makes sense. i might have lied when i said i had my thoughts in order #please give the comics mentioned a read!#bruce wayne #dc meta #saki comic talks

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cheritzteam · 1 year ago

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[MM] Announcement on Mystic Messenger August Summer Event, 2023

Hello, this is Cheritz.

Did you enjoy the Mystic Messenger 7th Anniversary event?

Thank you again for joining us this year♥

Rumor has it that members are still losing sleep over the 7th anniversary party wedding look you worked so hard to create...

After the long afterglow of the wedding party, we have another fun summer event for you!

Why not beat the heat with Mystic Messenger Summer Event?

Check out the announcement below for more details! 😉

< ① Summer Event : August Festival >

High temperatures are making for some sweltering weather,

What do you think of when you think of summer?

The Sea, Pool, Watermelon, Sunshine etc. …

Summer also means tons of summer festivals, many of which are water or music related.

Festivals with upbeat songs and delicious food just seem to get us in the mood for summer.

This summer, Mint Eye has a special plan to attract new believers.

It's all about mesmerizing people with "music"! Σ(0ㅁ0

A full-fledged Mint Eye Idol Project!

Stage planner, will you answer Ray's call for help?

Share your favorite song that will capture people's hearts on social media (Twitter, Tumblr or Instagram) with the hashtag #MM_MintEye_Festival and you'll be entered into a drawing to win ⌛150 hourglasses!

We'll also be offering discounts on select items at the market.

If you've been hesitating to buy something, this is your chance★!

Cheritz Market discounted period : August 17th(Thur) 2PM ~ August 24th(Thur) 2PM

< ② Game-Access Event >

If you log into the game during the event below, you'll see the Mystic Messenger Summer title image! Enjoy the new title image and have a happy summer.

And don't miss the surprise access reward >_< !!

Title Illustration : August 17th(Thur) ~ August 30th(Wed)

Summer Access Reward : August 21st(Mon) ~ August 23rd(Wed)

Did you enjoy the announcement of August events?

We hope your summer with Mystic Messenger is happy!

Thank you!

Cheritz

#mysticmessenger #mysme #mm #cheritz #MM_MintEye_Festival

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alwritey-aphrodite · 1 year ago

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day at the pool with our boy James Tartt <3

Anything for you, my beautiful and smart-as-hell wife <3

2023 Summer Blurbs

Fuck Jamie Tartt and fuck his slutty little shorts.

This was a family event, with Keeley and Roy and sweet little Phoebe, and Jamie’s running around showing off his perfect fucking thighs. Damn everyone who decided men should start wearing 5 inch inseams on their shorts.

And it wasn’t that he looked bad, or ridiculous the way he did when he wore his hair all slicked back, he looks infuriatingly good. And there was nothing you could do or say about it.

“Oi!” A voice from behind you shouts, paired with hands squeezing your waist, making you squeal and quickly turn your head from where Roy and Jamie are attempting to push each other into the pool as Phoebe watches on and giggles to see Keeley with a giant grin on her face.

“Jesus, Keeley, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you respond with a hand over your rapidly beating heart to prove your point, but she just laughs at you.

“You’re allowed to talk to him, y’know,” she tells you with a sly smile as Jamie and Roy go splashing into the pool and Phoebe falls into a fit of laughter.

“I have no idea what you mean.” You try to slip away and make your way to your sunchair, but Keeley just sits down next to you, that knowing smile of hers never leaving her face.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird there are so many adults at Phoebe’s party?” You ask, trying to change the subject while trying not to watch as Jamie hoists himself out of the water.

“Well, she’s gotta invite Roy, and Jamie’s Roy’s best friend, and she has to invite me because she loves me, and she has to invite you because we’re besties.” Keeley explains it all very clearly, and you can’t help but to laugh.

Phoebe, despite being a child, is one of your favorite people in the world, and you’re really just thankful she likes you enough to invite you to this pool party of hers.

And not just because it means you get to stare at Jamie, soaking wet in his swim shorts.

You and Keeley carry on talking, Phoebe coming over to join you when her mom runs back inside to grab more drinks, and you’re so carried away with your girl talk, getting all the drama from Phoebe about her classmates, that you barely notice when a dripping-wet shadow blocks the sun.

Suddenly, a pair of hands are grabbing and tugging you up from your spot on the sunchair, your protests and attempts to grab at Keeley for help practically useless as you get dragged closer and closer to the edge of the pool. You’re so disoriented that it’s not until you catch a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of your eye that you realize Jamie is the one terrorizing you.

Before you can tell him to stop, the two of you go tumbling into the water, his hands a firm grip on your waist. Sputtering, you break through the surface to see Phoebe laughing at you, and it’s practically impossible to keep a smile off your face when you hear that sound. Jamie has a proud look on his face, and you just roll your eyes when he leads forward to kiss you.

So much for keeping your relationship a secret for now.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fluff #ted lasso fanfiction #2023 summer blurbs #james tartt and trent crime

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year ago

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One Bad Day....Jason's Death

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 8. Panic Attack, 12. Character Death, 23. Begging, 31. Crying, Alt. 13. Grief Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Batmom, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: Before Red Hood rescued her, before she was in prison, before she killed The Joker, Batmom experiences one of the most devastating losses of her life. Word Count: 5587 TW: Canon Character Death, Mentions of Torture, Brief Description of Injuries, Grief, Breakdown, Tears, Anger, Character Picks Up Reader Note: This is part of the One Bad Day.... series but can be read as a one-shot (though best to be read after Part 3)Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

Series Masterlist

It has been three days since you have heard from either Bruce or Jason and you are starting to get worried. Actually, you are way past worried—you are terrified. Something is wrong, you can feel it in your gut. A gnawing queasiness deep in your stomach that has you unable to eat or sleep while you wait for some sort of news.

Usually, you wouldn’t give this radio silence a second thought. While Bruce tries to send some sort of word as often as he can while out of town, it just isn’t always possible. Especially when he is away on this kind of work. Batman is a force of secrets and mystery. He can’t always risk finding a way to call his wife to tell her he is alright.

You pull the blanket that is draped over your shoulders tighter around you and continue pacing. Alfred had placed it there a few ago, the last time he had come to check on you. When you had first begun to worry, the butler had remained by your side providing constant reassurance and support. But after a while, once it became clear you wanted to be alone, he retreated upstairs. Occasionally, he returned to the Batcave to bring you some food, water, or something to keep you warm, but otherwise, he had been keeping his distance. However, you know the second you call for him, he will instantly be there to get you whatever he possibly can. If only he could get you the one thing you truly wanted right now….

As if summoned by your silent wish, you suddenly hear the distant roar of a familiar engine growing louder by the second. Whirling around, a huge smile of relief on your face, you turn just in time to see the Batmobile burst into the cave and come to a stop in its usual spot. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again as the driver-side door opens up and you catch a glimpse of Bruce, still in his Batman costume though he has removed his cowl and gloves.

Throwing your arms open wide as you approach the car, you exclaim, “There’s my boys!” Bruce doesn’t look at you as he climbs out of the Batmobile and walks slowly over to the passenger side. “I was just about to send out a search party. How was Ethiopia? Did you find–”

You stumble to a halt, your smile slipping from your face. An icy vice clamps down on your heart as you see Bruce lift something out of the Batmobile: a small limp figure wrapped in a torn yellow cape that reveals small glimpses of the red suit underneath through the holes and tears. Though the cape is also draped across the person’s face, you know immediately who is under it.

“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.”

As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….

But as your husband silently walks past you and lays the body on one of the nearby tables, the drawn, pained expression on his face coupled with the tender care he takes carefully arranging it is the final confirmation you need.

Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child.

You collapse forward, your forehead pressing hard against the cold cave floor as another wail tears through your chest. No. It can’t be true. Jason has to be alive. He has to be. Oh please, God, please don’t tell me you’ve taken my baby from me. Not again. Please.

As you continue to sob—worldless howls of grief and pain—you feel Bruce drape himself over you as if trying to shield you from this agony….but it’s too late. The damage has already been done and you have been irreparably broken.

In what seems like hours later, once you have exhausted yourself to the point you no longer have the energy or tears left to cry, Bruce sits back and pulls you carefully into his lap. As you lay curled in his arms with your head resting on his chest, you can feel his heart beating beneath you—so strong and steady—and it hits you that you will never again feel Jason’s heartbeat or hear him take a breath. All of those little signs of life you take for granted are just gone…and so is he.

Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?”

“The Joker,” Bruce says as he brushes a tear off your cheek. “He used Jason’s birthmother to lure him in, then he placed both of them in a warehouse that was rigged to explode. I arrived just as the bomb went off. I….I was too late to save him.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice breaking and the tears in his voice sends another jolt of pain into your heart and you nuzzle your head into his neck as you squeeze his hand. He silently squeezes back and you have to stifle a groan as you feel the bones in your hand shift and crack in his grasp, but you don’t say anything. You just let him continue to squeeze your hand long after the point it turns numb.

You haven’t seen Bruce fall apart since the two of you lost the baby. Regardless of what heartbreaks or fights had come your way in the years since, Bruce had remained calm and stoic through it all. It’s just who he was. He was your rock, your lifeline in the roughest of waters, your source of comfort when you needed it the most—so the sight of him breaking adds another layer of grief to your own.

When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.”

Which means yes. The Joker had probably tortured and beaten your baby bloody before blowing him up. Another sob threatens to tear from your lips, but you manage to quell it so it is just a whine deep in your throat. You had cried enough for the moment. Right now, you need answers and to come up with a plan. But first…you need something else.

Untangling yourself from Bruce’s arms, you unsteadily get to your feet and begin walking over to the table. Bruce leaps up when he sees what you are doing and he gently grabs your shoulders blocking your path. “Don’t. Sweetheart, just…just don’t. Trust me.”

“Let me go. I need to see him.”

You try to shrug him off but he holds you firmly in place. “No. You don’t. Don’t let that be the last image you have of him—I wish it wasn’t mine. He’s gone and seeing him like that won’t bring him back. So, I’m begging you, don’t.”

“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what Bruce is going to do. His eyes flit across your face, trying to find the slightest hesitation he can grasp onto. But when he doesn’t find any, he sighs and slowly lowers his hands as he bows his head and whispers, “Please…Don’t look.”

But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.

You approach the table with a determined stride, yet you hesitate once you reach it. Jason was always a slight kid, even verging on scrawny, but he had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable than as your hand hovers over the cape still draped over him. Even that first night Bruce brought him home to you, he had so much fire and spirit in his little twelve-year-old body that his presence filled the room. Now, three years later, that fire and spirit had been extinguished and it hits you all over again how young he truly was—how young he would always be.

You feel Bruce come to stand just behind you but he doesn’t say a word. He has tried his best to stop you so now all he can do is wait for you to live with your decision and be there for the aftermath. Knowing he is right there for you gives you a renewed sense of strength and as you take a deep breath, you pull back the cape to look at your son.

Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.

Some of the damage you are expecting based on what Bruce told you. Burns litter Jay’s face and neck as well as his hands. In some places, they are light, almost invisible unless the light catches them just so. However, in other spots, the burns are so severe you can almost see down to the bone. His hands are the worst, so charred and blackened that you fear touching them despite the longing in your chest to hold his hand once more in yours. Looking at the burn patterns, it seems heartbreakingly clear that Jason had tried to protect himself from the blast by throwing his hands in front of his face…he had seen it coming.

Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.

Beneath the burns and debris from the bomb, Jason’s body is broken, bruised, and bloody in ways that an explosion couldn’t have caused. One arm and leg jut out at odd angles and there are dark bruises all over his face, neck, and the parts of his torso you can see through his ruined suit. One eye is swollen and black, his nose is bent sharply to one side, and his lip is split open wide. You have seen enough blunt-force trauma up close and personal to understand what had to have caused all of this.

Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”

“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”

“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”

“It’s not our place to–”

“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”

“We won’t.” Bruce takes your face between his hands and bends over so his forehead is almost touching yours. “I swear to you, we will find him and throw him back into Arkham where he belongs.”

Wrenching from his grasp in disgust, you snarl, “For how long? A few weeks? A month if we’re lucky? Then he’ll just find another way to escape like he always does and he’ll hurt more innocent people, more people we love. How can you not see that this has to end? That it should have ended years ago.”

“My heart—” Bruce tries to take your hand but once again you snatch it away from him. “I know you don’t always agree with it, but we have a code. A code you agreed to follow when you joined me. And that code means that no matter what The Joker or anyone else does, We. Don’t. Kill. Otherwise, what makes us any better than them?”

“Maybe I don’t care about being better than them anymore. We’ve done things by the book, followed your rules, and where has that left us? Two dead children and a third who barely survived being shot. And you still talk about trusting the same system that allowed it to happen in the first place. Well, who’s next, Bruce? Who will be the next victim in your moral war? Alfred? Dick?....Me? Whose death will it take for you to realize that this won’t end unless we make it end?”

Bruce stares at you as if he is looking at a stranger and not his wife of ten years. Shaking his head slightly, he says, “I understand you’re hurting right now and you’re not thinking clearly. But once some time has passed and the feelings aren’t as raw, you’ll—”

“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”

“Our son.”

“What?”

“Our son,” Bruce says. His voice has a sharp edge to it that momentarily takes you aback. “You keep saying ‘my son’ like you’re the only one who lost him. I know what you and Jay had was special but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him too, or that I’m not in agony right now. I had to watch, helplessly, as that warehouse exploded knowing I was too late to save him. Then, I dug with my bare hands for almost an hour through the wreckage praying for a miracle only to find—” Bruce presses his hand over his eye as he takes a long, slow, shaking inhale then continues “And then I had to fly home watching vigil over our son’s body, all the while dreading this moment. Knowing I was coming home to shatter the woman I love. But the only thing that made that thought bearable was knowing we could mourn together and lean on each other for comfort. Yet all you can focus on is revenge and murder!”

“No, Bruce. I’m focusing on keeping the family I still have safe. I’m focusing on protecting this city just as you swore to do. I’m focusing on ending terror and chaos in the streets. And if that means one psychotic clown has to die to make that happen, then so be it.”

“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”

“Don’t you get it! Jason would still be alive if you had just—” All of your fury evaporates instantly and you inhale sharply as you realize what you were about to blurt out. Bruce’s expression hardens into a stone-cold mask usually reserved for the most lowsome of criminals and, stumbling back, you stutter, “I-I mean…I—”

“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”

“I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out,” you whisper. “I know this isn’t your fault, Bruce. You told him not to go but I encouraged him to do what he thought he had to do. That I would support whatever decision he made.” Your voice cracks as you choke out, “I sent our baby off to his death, not you.”

It is the thought that has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw Bruce lift Jason’s body from the Batmobile. The unbearable truth you’ve been unable to face. Bruce had known something felt off about the situation and he insisted Jason stayed home. But when Jason came to you saying he had found his birthmother and needed to go see her, you put your foot down and forced Bruce to take him. If you had just listened to Bruce, if you had just really examined the facts instead of wanting to show Jason you were supportive, your son would still be alive.

Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”

The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.

“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”

Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”

You nod back and hurry over to the stairs leading up to the manor. But just as you begin to climb them, you pause and mumble, “I’ll be in Jay’s room.” then flee up the stairs before Bruce can stop you.

Once back in the manor, you move in an almost trancelike state towards the bedrooms. As you pass the kitchen, you hear a soft sniffling and you realize Alfred must have come down into the Batcave at some point and seen what happened. You have been so preoccupied with your own grief, you completely forgot about the butler who loved Jason almost as much as you and Bruce did.

Part of you wants to go back and join him. After all, Alfred always knows how to fix anything and everything and maybe, somehow, he can fix this too. Yet as much as it pains you to admit, there are just some things even Alfred Pennyworth can’t do. So you continue walking.

When you reach Jason’s room, you don’t even pause before opening the door and shuffling in. In one fluid movement, you collapse onto your son’s bed and roll over, dragging his comforter with you until you are cocooned beneath the blanket.

It seems impossible that just three nights ago you were sitting on this very bed with Jason next to you as he told you about how he had been tracking down his birthmother. He had been so scared to tell you for fear he would hurt your feelings. But you had just gathered him into your arms and pressed your lips into his hair as you promised him you would always be his “Ma” regardless of what happened on his search. That you would always love him….

Tears you did not think you could still cry began slipping silently down your cheeks. What would you have done differently if you had known that was the last time you would see your son? What else would you have said to make him understand how much he meant to you? How he had saved you from your grief once before and how you still needed him now?

You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:

Could I have saved you if I had been there?

For the next twelve days, little changes. The only time you leave Jason’s bed is to go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you lay curled in the center of his bed wrapped in his blankets and staring at his wall. Bruce and Alfred take turns coming to check on you several times a day, usually bringing food or drinks and trying their best to coax you into consuming something. You take a little nibble here and there or take a few sips of water, but it isn’t long before you return to your near catatonic state.

Even when Dick arrives a few days after you learned of Jason’s death, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You do allow him to climb into the bed with you where you wrap him in a bone-crushing embrace, afraid if you let go you’ll lose him just like your other children. But eventually, he has to leave and you resume your solitary existence.

On day seven, Bruce slips into bed behind you and wraps his arms around you. For a long time, the two of you just lay there in silence. Then, softly, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Please, sweetheart, please come back to me. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I just lost Jason and I can’t….I can’t lose you too. Please, let me in. Let us help each other through this….Together.”

You know he’s right, and it kills you to know you are only adding to his heartbreak, but you just don’t have the strength or the will to be what he needs right now. So, you remain motionless in his embrace, your eyes never shifting their unseeing stare at the wall.

Eventually, Bruce accepts nothing is going to change. Pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, he whispers, “I love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be waiting, as soon as you’re ready.” Then he slips from the bed and you are alone once more.

The next major change in your routine comes exactly two weeks after Jason’s death when Bruce and Alfred walk into Jason’s room holding a simple black dress. Silently, you allow them to put it on you before they lead you downstairs where Dick is waiting with the car. No one has to tell you where you are going. You already know.

For the short drive, Bruce sits next to you in the backseat, holding your hand tightly as he presses his lips against your temple with whispers of encouragement and love. You squeeze his hand back but make no other acknowledgment of his presence or support. You catch Dick glancing back at you in the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, and you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. That thought makes you withdraw even further into yourself in shame.

As Alfred pulls to a stop, you make no move to exit the car. Alfred and Dick both glance at Bruce for some sort of guidance as to how to proceed, and he motions for them to get out. Once you are alone, Bruce pulls you into his arms. “If I could spare you from this, you know I would. But we have to make some sort of public show or it’s going to look suspicious. And people are already asking questions. But I promise, the second we’re done, I’ll take you back up to the house. Okay?”

You nod, knowing he is right however much you despise it, and he smiles softly. Placing his finger under your chin so he can tilt your head back, Bruce kisses your forehead as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Then sliding his hand into yours, he opens his car door and steps out before helping you out. Immediately you are met with flashing lights and the whirring click of hundreds of cameras all pointed in your direction. You try to ignore them as Bruce leads you down the path lined with photographers and reporters, your face a blank mask void of any emotion.

But that mask becomes harder to maintain as you hear the slight tittering of whispers passing through the crowd. And though you have over a decade of experience being the subject of Gotham’s rumor mill to get used to the kinds of things people say about you, these reach a new level of cruelty:

“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”

“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”

“She wasn’t even there when he died. Bruce planned a family trip overseas and she refused to go. She would rather stay here to be waited on hand and foot by that butler of theirs than spend time with her supposed family.”

“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”

You remember a time when you would have gone off on these people. Snapped back about how they didn’t know anything about you or your relationship with your family. Caused such a scene Bruce would have had to sheepishly drag you away while his face glowed bright red. But not today. Today all you want to do is curl up in a ball in front of them as you sob, asking how they can be so cruel or heartless to not see your pain or the devastation at your loss. How they could come here—here of all places—just to add to your suffering.

But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.

Bruce (well, probably Alfred) had worked out all the details while you were locked in Jason’s room. A plot had been selected in the small graveyard on the edge of the Wayne estate, right next to where Bruce’s parents were buried. The casket is closed so you can’t see how they dressed Jay, but Bruce had promised you in the car that he tucked Jason’s Robin mask into his pocket like you asked. It was the only input you had given on the whole ceremony but it did make you feel a little better knowing he had it with him.

To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.

Dick comes to stand next to you so you are sandwiched between him and Bruce. Though you don’t as much as glance in his direction, you are grateful to have your remaining son beside you. It is a calming reminder that not everyone has been taken from you. At least…not yet.

As the ceremony starts, you hold your head high and stare straight ahead. It is harder than you thought, the weight of a hundred eyes boring into the back of your head, but you manage to remain calm and composed throughout the sermon.

It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.

Unable to take your eyes off of the box containing your son as it disappears into the dirt, your body begins trembling violently as your knees give out underneath you. Luckily, Bruce catches you before you hit the ground but his touch does little to ease your trembling.

Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Bruce pulls you tight against his chest, allowing you to bury your face into his jacket to muffle to sound. You claw desperately at the back of his suit, your chanting becoming more frenzied by the moment despite no longer looking at the grave. It’s just too much. All of it’s too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Mercifully, Bruce gently lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the car. You cling tightly to him, your arms around his neck, even as you continue shaking and babbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Shhh….” Bruce coos gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You did so good. I know he’d be proud of you, just like I am. But it’s over now, and I’m taking you back to the manor just like I promised. It’s going to be okay.”

You nod into his neck as you finally manage to quiet down some. The words are still swirling in your head but at least they are no longer spewing from your lips. You thought you were stronger than this. You thought you could at least hold it together for an hour for your family’s sake, but you were so wrong.

Even though it had been a closed casket funeral, knowing Jay was in there, seeing it disappear into the ground forever…it finalized everything in a way you hadn’t felt yet. All those days laying in Jason’s room, numb and disconnected from the world, you had distanced yourself from the reality of the truth. But there was no escaping it now. Jason was gone and there was nothing you could do to change that.

When you reach the manor, Bruce once again lifts you into his arms though you half-heartedly tell him you can walk on your own yet part of you is glad when he ignores you and continues to carry you up the stairs. You are somewhat surprised when Bruce returns you to Jason’s room without even asking. For some reason, you had assumed he would try to take you to the master bedroom to be with him.

You expect him to climb into bed or kneel down beside it, but once again he shocks you as he simply turns and walks to the door. He only pauses a moment to say, “I had Alfred put a fresh change of pajamas on the dresser.” Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.

You aren’t sure what to think about this. Has Bruce finally given up trying to reach you? Was he more embarrassed about your behavior at the funeral than he admitted? Or has he finally accepted you need time alone to deal with your loss?

Still pondering his behavior, you climb out of bed and slip off the black dress you are wearing. Tossing it to the side, you walk over to the dresser to look for the clothes Bruce mentioned. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can return to your blanket cocoon and lose yourself to your fog of grief once more.

But as you spy the pajamas and you reach for them, your eyes land on something on the wall. Despite the fact today is May 11, Jason’s calendar is still turned to April. Since he left for Ethiopia on April 25th and was killed on the 27th, he never got the chance to change it. He would never know which classical author’s picture had been selected for May. Instead, Jason ran out of time and now it will forever be stuck on William Shakespeare.

Time….If only you had more time….

Three and a half years. That’s all the time you had with your son. It seems insane that someone who was in your life for such a short amount of time could leave such an impact on you, but there is no denying it. You know deep in your soul that you could not have loved Jason more if you had given birth to him or known him since the day he was born. He is your son just as much as Dick is, as much as the baby you had lost is, and now he’s gone too.

And it’s all because of The Joker.

For the first time since you had crawled into Jason’s room that first night, something besides sorrow stirs in your gut. The red-hot burn of vengeance that you have let your grief extinguish suddenly flares to life in your veins and your hands clench tightly on the edge of the dresser.

Memories begin flashing through your mind: Sitting next to the bed, begging God to save an 18-year-old Dick as he clung to life after being shot by The Joker while on patrol; Monitoring the Batcomputer in horror as The Joker released his laughing gas throughout the streets of Gotham; Listening to Lt. Gordon’s sobs as he told Bruce what The Joker had done to Barbara; Watching Bruce lift Jason’s lifeless body out of the Batmobile as your heart shattered in your chest.

He is responsible for all this death and this pain, year after year after year. He is the reason other villains think they can get away with whatever deadly scheme they have up their sleeves. He is why Arkham Asylum has become a swinging door deterrent that no one fears. He is the one who killed your son.

And he’s not going to get away with it any longer.

Every cell in your body knows what has to be done, yet you also know the consequences if you do it. Is stopping this lunatic really worth destroying what’s left of your family? Can you really give up everything to ensure no one else ever feels this pain you are feeling?

You think about if your places had been reversed and it had been you who had been killed instead and there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Jason would have burned the world down if it meant stopping The Joker. And if that’s true, how could you do anything less for your son?

With a newfound purpose driving you and a clear goal in your sights, you flip the calendar to May and pin it in place. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stares back at you as you press your finger to May 27th; 16 days from now and exactly one month after Jason’s death. That will be the day. The day you do what you should have done long ago. The day you will kill The Joker.

Taglist: @juliaarwj, @calsjack, @theclassicvinyldragon, @zebralover, @megumimind, @freerangesweets, @@lapidaverunt-scriptor, @kiryoutann, @charmellaposts, @imperialabysssins, @dawnwriterimagines, @avitute

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laurenxbennett · 1 year ago

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Starter for: @xsylcuenco Where: Pool Party When: Around 9pm

Despite their past, Lauren was very happy that she could say that she was still good friends with Syl. Yes, they had dated, hell… Syl had been her first girlfriend ever during high school. With two cocktails in hand, she made her way over to the jacuzzi where she had left her friend behind just a moment earlier. One of the drinks was handed to her friend before she lowered herself into the water. “You know, I think this yearly pool party is definitely one of the best party’s of the year in this town.” Never had she missed one throughout the years she had lived here. Even if school was over in New York and she left for home again… She would visit the party. “Although I definitely prefer the nightly part of the day over the daily part.” Lauren raised her glass to the other woman. “I just love your new bikini, by the way.”

#[ conv: sylvia cuenco burke. ]#[ sylvia cuenco burke 001. ]#xsylcuenco #[ event: pool party 2023. ]

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triplexdoublex · 10 months ago

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Chlorine and Nicotine

Pairing: Jaden Hossler x Reader

Warnings/tags: Smut , Age Gap (reader is in her 30’s) tipsy hookup (consent implied) mentions of prior divorce, pregnancy, c section and children. Body image issues /self conscious reader . Mention of coopers death/fentanyl poisoning.

A/N: 5.5k words! This one’s for the self conscious and tired mamas on this app. Go find yourself a Jaden lol

You and your two other friends, Ashley and Liz, had planned the perfect getaway to celebrate your messy divorce being finalized: A child-free, 7 day, all-inclusive, 21+ cruise to the Bahamas. Tickets were purchased, excursions were selected, trustworthy babysitters were hired and bags were packed, there’s only one thing you all forgot…

“Is it just me or are we like the oldest ones here?” You ask your friends, looking around as you all board the cruise ship.

“Yeah, I noticed that too— seems like mostly college kids for some reason?” Liz responds.

Just then you all notice the banner on the side of the ship ‘Spring Break 2023’!

The three of you, having been out of school for close to two decades already, had completely forgotten this week was usually spring break.

“Ugh,” Ashley groans, “I can’t believe we forgot. I was hoping we could all get some much needed rest and a full night's sleep this week without our kids, not be kept up by a bunch of frat boys and sorority girls partying.”

“Hey, you know what? As long as I’m with you guys I’m sure we’ll still have a great time, even if they do keep us up. Besides you know the saying ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. When was the last time any of us got to let loose and party a little?” You reply.

“True,”

“Yeah, you’re right,” your friends answer in unison.

“Ok,well now that that’s settled, first order of business is finding our cabin, changing into our bikinis, and working on our tans while we sip margaritas pool side.” You instruct. “Let’s go!”

**********

“Whooof!” You exhale. “I’m getting hot. I’m gonna go take a dip in the pool and cool off real quick. I’ll be right back.” You head into the pool.

“Ash, do you hear that? I think those guys next to us on the right are talking about Y/N. Listen,” Liz says, keeping her voice low..

“— yeah the one in the yellow floral two piece… right there … she just got into the pool… she’s a total MILF bro—“

“Okay, I’m back, mmmn that cold water was refreshing. Did I miss anything?” You joke, knowing you were only gone for a minute.

“You did actually,” Ashley speaks in a whisper “Apparently you’re a Milf!” Liz adds.

“Says who!?” You laugh.

“Shhhh! Liz warns. “That little cutie right over there,” She nods in his direction. “The one in the black swim trunks.”

Descretly, you turn to see who your friends are talking about.

“Oh my god, I’m pretty sure I have jeans in my closet older than him! You scoff before taking another look. “I mean… he is pretty cute though— solid body, lots of tattoos.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you actually do,” Ashley laughs. Which reminds me we need to go shopping and update that wardrobe of yours, I haven’t seen you in anything but leggings for the past 6 years.”

“Ugh I know! It’s because nothing fits! It’s been 6 years since I had the twins and I’m still not back to my pre-baby weight,” you sulk. “Plus I’ve been so busy taking care of them and putting them first, I haven’t even had time to think about me. And now with the divorce and paying my lawyer— money’s tight. If it wasn’t for you guys paying my share of this trip, I wouldn’t have been able to go, and lord knows I need the break. I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aww you’re so welcome,” Liz hugs you.

“You deserve it,” Ashley says, patting your shoulder.

“Sorry, I’m being a negative Nancy. Fuck all our problems! We’re here to escape them and have fun!” You state. “Anyone else getting hungry, I could totally go for a burger?”

**********

At night, the pool area transforms into somewhat of a night club, with drinks, dancing, swimming and fun events— tonight’s is a singles lap dance competition.

“Good Evening,cruisers!!! The lap dance competition is about to begin,” the event organizer announces. “I need three single people to volunteer to receive a lap dance, raise your hand if your single and would like to receive a lap,” he shouts loud and enthusiastically as if announcing a wrestling match.

“Oh my god y/n! You should totally do it!” Ashley squeals, trying to raise your hand for you.

“No way, are you crazy?” You laugh pulling your hand back down.

“C’mon y/n, you’re single now , and when was the last time you had a hott guy on top of you?”

“Not within the last eight years, I know that much!” Liz sasses, wide-eyed taking a sip of her drink, and making you spit out yours.

“Fair enough,” you cough out after practically choking. “Fine I’ll do it,” you agree,the liquid courage you’ve been sipping on, helping to release your inhibitions.

“Alright, I just need one more volunteer!”

You adjust your bathing suit and raise your hand.

“ Ok pretty lady, c’mon up,” the DJ calls out. You head up onto the stage, your friends laughing, screaming and cheering you on. “Now I’m gonna need some volunteers to give the lap dances. Let’s start with this pretty lady right here,” the DJ motions to you. “Who wants to give this beautiful woman a lap dance?”

You look out into the crowd watching as a few hands go up. One in particular catches you eye, and you try to place why he looks slightly familiar, and then it hits you; it’s the young guy your friends overheard calling you a MILF earlier in the day.

“Alright, take your pick,” the DJ tells you.

“Him—the one with the dark hair and tattoos,” you point into the audience, before taking a seat on the folding chair on stage.

“You heard her, my man, c’mon up,” the DJ calls him to the stage.

He stands in front of you wearing his black swim trunks from earlier but is now also sporting a white tank top and a forward facing baseball cap. You can feel his eyes looking down at you, checking you out while waiting for the other contestants to choose their lap dance partner.

“Let’s get it started!” the DJ announces. “At the end of the song, y’all are gonna help me decide the winner,” he says, speaking to the audience. “Let’s gooo!!”

Sam Smith’s ‘Unholy’ starts bumping from the speakers and your tattooed partner throws his head back in a brief laugh at the song choice, before locking eyes with you. He wastes no time getting close; stepping forward so that both of your legs are sandwiched between his wide stance. With one hand on your shoulder he begins rolling his body in your lap, his free hand quickly grabbing his hat and turning it backwards so the brim doesn’t hinder his view of you. He glides that same hand down his torso over his white tank to its hem, bunches the material in his hand and slides it up, exposing his perfectly toned abs. You smirk, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth at the sight. He removes his hand from your shoulder and uses both hands to peel his tank off completely, tossing it down on the stage. Then he slides his thumbs into the waistband of his swim trunks purposely lowering them, his prominent V-lines on full display, along with a fuzzy line of hair descending from his navel. Your eyes follow the trail down until it meets a small patch just barely visible peeking out the top of his swim trunks. Your mind wanders, imaging what’s below—imaging what he’s working with. The trance you’re in is broken when he places one of your hands flat on his chest, inviting you to touch him while he moves in your lap. You let your hand glide down over the topography of his body, your fingertips exploring the hills and valleys of muscle as you go, stopping when your hand reaches the horizon where flesh meets material, even though your hand craves to continue its descent. As if he can read your mind, he pushes your hand lower, pressing his half hard bulge against your palm as he rolls his hips insync with the last ‘unholy’ of the song before it ends.

“Alright it’s time to vote. Let me hear you give it up for couple number one,” the DJ instructs. The audience claps, cheers and hoots. “Alright, a alright, now make some noise for couple number two.” A slightly louder roar of cheer and applause echoes under the night sky. Your sexy partner stands behind you with his hands on your shoulders as you both await your turn.“And last but not least couple number three.” The crowd goes wild with thunderous clapping,and high pitched whistles —your friends cheers the loudest of them all. “We have a clear winner here tonight, folks,” the DJ announces. “Winning by a landslide…couple number three!”

Tattooed arms unexpectedly scoop you up off the chair, running bridal style off the stage and towards the pool with you. You playfully shriek and laugh the whole way until … splash... he jumps in the water with you. When you both surface again, your hungry mouths are attacking one another like prey: desperate and determined. He moves forward in the water, pinning you against the side of the pool with his body as you devour each other— all lips, tongue, teeth and flesh. His skin tastes like chlorine, his kisses- a hint of nicotine; and just as addictive. Underwater, he teases a hand up your inner thigh and begins gently rubbing you through the fabric of your bathing suit. You allow it, encourage it actually—rocking your hips to press yourself firmer against his fingertips. You can feel how hard he is through his swim trunks and you opt to help him out, grasping his hard cock through the thin veil of fabric. You work each other into a sexual frenzy and it’s not long before his fingers transcend the boundary of your bathing suit bottoms, pushing the fabric aside and inserting two slender fingers inside of you. You follow his lead, sinking your hand into his swim trunks and wrapping your fingers tightly around him.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a complete stranger who’s name you don’t even know, or that he’s much younger than you, or perhaps even because no one besides your ex-husband has touched you this intimately in years, but you feel a familiar sense of heightened arousal that can only compare to the giddy exhilaration of your first sexual experience. God the nostalgia!—Back when just the novelty of making out, and touching each other was enough. Back when foreplay still existed, before the busyness of life and motherhood had you trading sex for sleep. Or swapping making love for quickies during naptime.

Every swirl of his tongue, curl of his fingers, and flick of your wrist has you feeling renewed, awake and alive again. You never want this to end but your body is chasing after the high it so desperately wants bucking against his palm while his fingers caress that sweet spot inside of you. As your orgasm begins to build, your grip on him falters so he places his free hand over yours, helping you stroke him. The feeling of your walls squeezing his fingers as you cum is so sexy to him that he finishes shortly after you.

Since the moment he jumped into the pool with you in his arms, you’ve been in your own world, oblivious to anything or anyone around you. It’s not until you start coming down from your high that the outside world starts to trickle back in: the music, the people, the sounds of your friends cheering your name. You turn to the direction of the noise in search of your friends, but a series of cannonballs by a group of guys momentarily blocks your view before you finally spot them. When you turn back after locating them, the boy is gone.

***********

The next morning in line for the breakfast buffet you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry about last night. My name’s Jaden by the way,” he holds out his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you shake his hand. “What exactly are you sorry about? I may have been a little tipsy, but I remember having a great time.” You give a small smirk.

“Ok, good,” he smiles “I was worried I got a little too caught up in the moment and took things too far,” he admits. “But mostly I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that. My buddies almost drowned me with their cannonballs and I wanted to spare you from having to see me choke to death and squirt water out of my nose.” He laughs.

“Fair. You’re forgiven,” you joke. “Can I ask you something?

“Of course, ask away.”

“How old are you?” You brace yourself for the answer, but at least you know he’s at least twenty one.

“Twenty two, you?”

“Oh god, umm let’s just call it mid 30’s” you answer, slightly embarrassed, and worried about how he might react.

“Can I ask you a question now?” He asks.

“Sure.”

“I’d like to spend some more time with you today. Would you like that?” He asks.

“Wait, so your not bothered by me being much older than you?” You question.

“Not at all,” he smirks. “Sooo is that a yes then?”

“I-I dunno..” you're sure he just wants to hook up again , and you don’t want to give him that impression. Last night was just a heat of the moment thing.

“I just wanna talk, get to know you. Hands to myself this time, promise,” he replies as if he’s read your mind.

“Okay,” you agree. “My friends and I have a dolphin excursion during the day and dinner reservations at 6:00, so why don’t we meet somewhere around 8:00?”

“That works for me. Meet at the hot tubs?”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” You answer.

**********

You head down to the deck with the hot tubs after dinner; bathing suit on and towel in hand. You know you’re going to be a few minutes early but you figure you’d get there before they get crowed. When you arrive however you see Jaden already in one of the hot tubs; his elbows resting on the edge, and a cigarette between two fingers. You know it’s a nasty habit and not good for his health but fuck - why does he look so good doing it.

“Hey,” you say, grabbing his attention.

“Shit!” He blows out a mouthful of smoke and ashes the cigarette out on the edge of the hot tub. “Sorry, bad habit, tryna quit. I wasn’t expecting you for like another ten minutes, thought I could sneak one in.”

“No worries,” you smile, stepping into the hot tub with him. “I expected there to be more people out here, thought I’d come early before they filled up.”

“Yeah, same,” he says as you scoot over next to him . “But apparently there’s supposed to be a rainstorm some time tonight, so maybe that’s why. Although I don’t really see why it would matter, like you’re in a bathing suit literally sitting in water anyways.” He shrugs. “So anyways, tell me about yourself. I’m guessing you’re not here on Spring Break too.” He laughs.

“Nope, celebrating my divorce actually,” you admit, holding up your left hand and wiggling your ring finger— a lighter band of flesh, where a ring once sat.

“Ooh brutal, sorry to hear that. Did you guys have kids together?” Jaden asks.

“Dont be. I’m glad it’s over. And yeah twin boys actually. They’re six. My moms watching them while we’re gone.”

“Aww, sweet” he smiles.

“How ‘bout you? I already know you’re here on Spring Break. Sooo ummm—ooh I know, tell me about your tattoos, do they have any special meaning or anything?

“Some I just liked, and some have meaning but this one’s the most important to me,” he points to a scrawling of repeated sentences that goes from his chest down his side. I got it for my best friend Cooper who passed away from fentanyl poisoning last year. I just didn’t know what say, didn’t know what to do after he passed , ya know, it’s like — “ he pauses a moment and swallows hard . “Fuck, I’m sorry. Let’s just talk about something else,”

“Sure, no problem. I understand” you say supportively, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The rest of your conversation is much more happy and upbeat —sharing your favorite movies, music, and books, where you both live and what you do for work. Also telling silly anecdotes about your childhoods, college life, motherhood and so on.

And then the rain starts; which you both agreed was no big deal but, unfortunately this rain is accompanied by thunder and lighting.

“Ugh, I was having a great time talking with you. Sorry the rain cut our little date short.” You say, sounding disappointed as you both quickly exit the hot tub.

“Is that what this was?” He smiles.

“Maybe,” you answer coyly with a shrug and flirty smile.

“If you’re okay with it, you can come back to my cabin and talk a little more, hangout, watch a movie or something,” he suggests. “But I totally understand if you're not comfortable with that. No pressure.”

“Sure, I’d like that,” you agree.

***********

“Shit, I just realized I don’t have anything dry to change into” you state upon entering his cabin. “And my rooms like on the complete other side of the ship. Do you have anything I could just throw on for now?”

“Uhhhm, sure,” Jaden looks around the room for something to give you. “Here you can wear this bathrobe,” he says, tossing you the white, terry cloth covering before sitting down on the bed.

In the corner of the room you turn, facing away from Jaden, put on the robe, and then descretly remove your bathing suit from under it.”

“What, no show?” Jaden jokes.

“You don’t wanna see, trust me.” You say, sounding down.

“Oh, but I do,” he laughs, but then stops when he notices you aren’t laughing too. Hey, what’s a matter. I’m just joking.I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable that wasn’t my intention. I don’t want you to think that’s why I invited you back to the room. You don’t have to show me anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that. I’m just really not comfortable in my own skin these days—haven’t been for a while actually. I love my kids to death but let’s just say pregnancy didn’t do my body any favors. You're young, you can have any hott girl with a tight little body. Why would you wanna see mine, it’s nothing to look at, I promise you.”

“I promise you you’re wrong. Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

You’re not sure what that consists of exactly, but you nod in agreement anyways. Jaden makes you feel so safe, and you could definitely use a confidence boost.

“C’mere,” Jaden leads you by your hand into the bathroom, and positions you in front of the mirror. “Can I take this off?” He whispers in your ear from behind you, as he places a hand on each of your robe covered shoulders. You meekly nod yes and he slips the garment off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet, leaving you completely nude. You fight the urge to cover yourself but the look of awe in Jaden’s eyes as he surveys your naked body helps melt away some of your insecurity. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breaths against your our neck. “Now what I want you to do is look in the mirror with me,” he instructs. You flick your eyes up to the mirror meeting his in the reflection. “I want you to tell me what you see when you look at yourself in the mirror—give it all to me, the good, the bad, the ugly, then I’m gonna tell you what I see.”

“I see someone I don’t recognize anymore. I used to be pretty, but now I have crows feet by my eyes, and my breasts have lost the perky fullness they had before breastfeeding two kids. It’s been six years and I still haven’t lost all the baby weight,” You poke at your stomach. “And I have this C-section scar from when my body failed to do the one thing it was literally designed to do!“ You start getting emotional. “My hips are so wide now, and my ass is huge , and don’t even get me started on the stretch marks on my inner thighs,” you sigh, holding back tears.

“First of all, you ARE pretty, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous. When I look at your eyes I don’t see crows feet— I see a million smiles and childhood summers spent having fun in the sun,” he says, making you smile. “That’s a million and one now,” he teases playfully. “Now, before I continue, do I have permission to touch you?”

“Permission granted,” you snicker “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dying to feel your hands on me again,” you admit, blushing.

“And my lips too?” He begins kissing slowly up the side of you neck, making every hair on your body stand on end with arousal.

“Mmmhm, yeah, that too.” You giggle coyly.

“And these,..”he continues, cupping you from behind, “I see breasts that nourished two beautiful babies,and still look plenty perky to me, especially these nipples,” he rolls the buds between his thumbs and pointer fingers. “I love how erect they are for me.” He tugs on them gently before moving his hands to your stomach. “You don’t need to lose a single pound, all I see is curves and there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not the 90’s anymore where women had to be rail thin to meet some ridiculous standard of beauty— all bodies are beautiful. And besides you don’t give yourself enough credit for growing two human beings inside you, this was their home for nine months!” He grips your soft belly tightly as he speaks. “And this scar,” he traces his finger over it, causing a ticklish chill to run through you at the ghostly sensation— you still don’t have much feeling there. “This is not a failure, it’s a reminder of how your babies were able to safely enter this world when things didn't go quite as planned.” Your eyes begin to well with tears again, not with sadness, but from the joy of a guy you met less than twenty four hours ago helping you fall back in love with your body and realize all its accomplishments. “And your ass and hips— fuck, that might be my favorite part of your body. Do you know how many women literally pay thousands of dollars to make their hips and ass look like this?” He rubs his hands over the swell of your backside. “It’s literally perfect.” He says with a firm squeeze. “And these—” he places his fingertips on the jagged pink and white lines on your inner thigh and begins to trace them upwards. “These are a map, leading me to where I wanna be the most,” he slides his middle finger through your wetness, “God damn you’re soaked and we’re not even in the pool this time,” he teases. “I think you want me here too, huh?” He begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, “and I mean more than just my fingers this time,” he smirks at you in the mirror before pressing his growing erection against your backside, and his mouth to your neck.

“Mhm, fuck—“ you moan, tilting your head and reaching back to run your hand through his dark hair while he marks you. “Mmmm, Jaden… do you… do you have a condom? I mean, my tubes are tied but—”

“I just got tested before the cruise baby—I’m clean.” He states breathily, before reattaching his lips to your neck, and pulling himself free from his swim trunks with his free hand.

“Okaay,” you moan. “I-I trust you.”

He slips in with ease; both of you releasing a shaky breath at the feeling. And while you haven’t exactly seen his dick yet, you can tell that it’s big.

“Fuccck, you feel incredible!” He nips along your jawline as he begins to thrust — one tattooed hand on your hip and the other, full of your breast, holding you against him so you can watch. He begins with a slow, gentle rhythm, taking his time to fully appreciate your warmth and tightness with each lengthy stroke.

“Ohhhh, Jaden!” You moan breathily.

“Mmmh yeah—am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Ss-so good.” And you mean that in every way- not just sexually.

“Keep your eyes on the mirror. I want you to see how beautiful you look while I fuck you,” he rasps in your ear.

You watch Jadens thrusts grow more urgent, his hands more hungry as he claws and grabs at every square inch of flesh he can get his hands on. Because of him you’re able to watch unashamed, as your soft body jiggles everytime Jaden’s hips crash against your backside, the movement spurring him on even more. You’re able to see the undeniable desire in his eyes, hear the truth of his words.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy!” He grunts through clenched teeth, increasing the intensity and depth of his pace even more, as he grows close to orgasm.

You grip the bathroom counter in front of you and let your head hang down in overwhelming pleasure. With a firm but gentle hold of your throat, Jaden lifts your head back up to face your reflection.

“Don’t want you to miss the best part,” he teases.

And with one final thrust, he cums hard, filling you to the brim. The warm eruption triggers your own orgasm, splashing against Jaden’s pelvis and dripping down his tattooed thighs.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard before,” you admit after finally catching your breath, your legs still weak and trembling.

“I can believe that,” he laughs looking down at the mess you’ve made of him. “It was so fucking hott though…Shower then room service?”

“Sounds perfect” you smile, stepping into the shower with him.

The shower starts off innocent, with the intent of actually washing up and getting clean but when Jaden asks if he can help wash you, things heat up rather quickly. As he soaps up your breasts you feel something brush press against you and look down.

“Are you really hard again, already? You just came!”

“I’m young, I got the drive and the stamina to go all night if you want,” he smirks.

“I just might have to take you up on that,” you smirk back, reaching to grasp his cock. You give it a few teasing tugs before dropping to your knees.

He watches with his bottom lip between his teeth as you tease your tongue along the underside of his shaft , tracing the vein from hilt to tip. He lets out a low and breathy “Fuck” as the head disappears inside your mouth— the rest of his length soon to follow. He tastes of you, and the scent of chlorine still lingers on his skin, especially when you take him deep, your nose pressed into the neatly trimmed patch of hair on his pelvis. The same patch that was just slightly visible last night above the waistband of his low hung swim trunks. You remember the way your eyes followed his happy trail to it, your mind wondering what was below it. Now just barely twenty four hours later it’s been inside of you; first your pussy and now your mouth. Every bob of your head brings him closer, his pleasure building so much he can’t help but buck his hips, gently fucking into your mouth.

“Ohh, shit —Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He moans out, grabbing the back of your head with both hands holding you in place as he spurts down your throat. “Mhgmmmmmmmmm” he lets out a long and pleasure-filled moan, still pumping his hips in short stokes, enjoying the last tendrils of his orgasm before pulling out. “God damn, that was so good!” He praises your skills, making you blush. “Ok” he starts with a laugh “let’s try this again, shower then room service”

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

By the time room service arrives after your shower, you’re at it again, this time riding Jaden in bed— a position you haven’t been brave enough to do in quite some time. You’ve already cum and Jaden is dangerously close when you both hear the faint knock followed by “Room service.”

“Shit, don’t stop,” Jaden whispers to you before shouting to room service “Just—fuck, j-just leave it by the door!”

Another roll of your hips and he’s done for, eyes rolling back, chiseled body twitching under you, calling out your name as he cums for the third time tonight.

*********

“We definitely worked up an appetite,” Jaden laughs looking at all the now completely empty pile of dishes on the room service cart. “You save any room for dessert?”

“No way, I’m stuffed,” you answer.

“Well I did.” Jaden smirks pushing you back down on the bed, and spreading your legs, his head disappearing between your thighs.

“Ohhh Jaden …”

**********

In the morning Jaden wakes before you, he can’t help but watch you sleep, sofly swiping a single knuckle along your cheek as he admires your beauty. The sensation stirs you from your slumber. Your eyes still heavy with sleep blink open and Jaden’s face comes into focus.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Jaden says, his husk, sleep laden, voice sounding so sexy. “It’s just that you're even beautiful when you sleep.”

“S’ok,” You murmur, with a smile. “Gotta get up anyways,my friends are probably wondering where the fuck I am.”

***********

You put your key card to the door of your cabin and the door clanks open rousing your friends from their sleep.

“Shit, what time is it?” Ashley asks, squinting at her phone. “Ten thirty two, sorry we woke up so late. I think me and Liz had a little too much to drink last night. I hope you weren’t bored waiting around for us.” Ashley apologizes. “Have you already been swimming this morning?” she asks noticing you're in a robe with your bathing suit dangling from your hand.

“Wait!” Liz interjects, “That’s the bathing suit you had on when you left for your date with -with that college boy, what’s his face—“

“It’s Jaden” you remind her.

“— you’re just getting back now, aren’t you!! You spent the night!?” Liz exclaims accusingly.

The hue of your cheeks and your guilty smile give you away. You take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait for the slew of questions you know you’re about to get pummeled with.

“Oh my god, did you sleep with him?” Ashley asks.

You answer wordlessly, pulling back the collar of the robe, exposing the numerous wine colored markings that decorate your flesh.

“Jesus! I haven’t seen that many hickeys since highschool” Liz teases. “Ok, spill, how bad was the sex? I’m cringing just looking at your neck.”

“It was honestly the best sex I’ve ever had,” you blushed. “He made me feel like a fucking Goddess!”

“ There’s no way,” Liz scoffs. “How much experience can he even have.” She says with an eyeroll.

“Yeah I’m not buying it either,” Ashley laughs. “C’mom you don’t got to lie to us. We’ve all had our subpar hookups, especially when we were in college. Guys that age are all confidence and no skill.”

“No I’m dead serious, it was amazing!!!” You gush. “And not just his dick, but the way he made me feel…”

You proceed to tell them every detail of last night, from how he praised and appreciated your every flaw and gave you your confidence back, to just how good his dick felt inside you and how talented he was with his mouth and fingers. When you're done talking Liz gets up and starts walking towards the cabin door.

“Where are you going?” You ask perplexed.

“Going to find me one of these college boys” Liz laughs. “Does he have friends?” She jokes, making her way back to the bed. “Seriously though, sorry we teased you, that sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Ashley agrees. “I’m a little jealous— good dick AND body positivity, sign me the fuck up!”

“What are you guys gonna do when the cruise is over?” Liz asks, “You’ll probably never see eachother again.”

“Oh my god, that’s right! I forgot to tell you guys the best part! Earlier in the night when we were just talking in the hot tub we figured out that he only lives an hour away from us!”

“Holy shit, what a small world, that’s awesome.” Ashley exclaims.

“I’ll tell you what’s not small,” you smirk.

#jaden hossler smut #jaden hossler #jxdn #jxdn smut #Jaden Hossler x reader #jxdn x reader

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johannestevans · 11 months ago

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My Top Stories for 2023!

In case you missed ’em: these were my most popular works of fiction and non-fiction of the year!

It’s very nearly 2024, and it’s been a big year for me!

I’ve published so many short stories and new essays, I had a great time at EasterCon and BristolCon, and have published pieces with several new (for me!) publications on top of moving into my new apartment. I’m now based in Yorkshire instead of Ireland, and that means I’ll be attending a bunch more conventions and other events across Wales, Scotland, and England as well as still going back to Ireland from time to time.

Firstly, as a big thank you to all my supporters and to ring in the new year, I’m currently doing an end-of-2023 giveaway! Sign up here!

On 01/01/2024, I’ll be drawing a winner of the giveaway, and they’ll receive by post / mail signed copies of my paperbacks, Heart of Stone and Gerald Poole and the Pirates, vouchers for my eBooks, some badges, and some other goodies that will be contained in the parcel.

Secondly, I wanted to remind people who’ve had a little bonus or gifted money and want to treat themselves that as well as being able to subscribe for access to all reader-locked works on Medium, by any authors, for $5 USD, I have a Patreon where I publish almost all my works (barring those that might be against Patreon guidelines, of which there currently aren’t many), there is an option to pay annually on Patreon!

You can subscribe to me monthly on Patreon for access to my works at £3 / £6 / £10.50 / £17 per month — there’s no difference in the benefits of these tiers, just that you can choose to support me with a subscription for what you can afford.

If you subscribe annually on Patreon, you get a 16% discount on what you would ordinarily pay monthly, and you get full access to everything for the duration of the year’s subscription!

With that intro done, let’s get to my top 24!

My Top 12 Fiction Pieces of 2023

January 2023 — Erotic Short: Running the Table

A trans man is the favourite pocket on the pool table.

Rated E. Cis M/trans M/cis M. 4k. Featuring consent play with a prenegotiated rape roleplay, object insertion (not sanitary, not safe, just sexy), double penetration, begging, tears, size difference, age difference, lots of anal play, belly bulging.

Jock and Phineas first appeared in Centre Pocket, where Jock initially makes the threat of the pool balls.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

February 2023 — Erotic Short: Fresh Bounty

A bounty hunter takes a young wizard to the king’s court.

1.7k, rated E, cis M/trans M! Power play with a lack of negotiation, but fully consensual enthusiasm for it, cockwarming, threatened overstimulation, D/s, implications of public use, and sex on horseback!

CW for a mention of it in dirty talk, but no animals are actually abused, harmed, or looked on sexually.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

March 2023 — Erotic Short: Purpose-Built Toy

A stretchy supervillain goes up against five huge superheroes.

3.2k, rated E. Trans M/5 alien Ms with alien cocks. There is absolutely no redeeming plot features in this, it’s just horrible unrealistic porn with lots of come inflation, objectification, humiliation, and belly kink.

There are several consent issues in this fic, where the trans guy is basically being turned into a fucktoy for these aliens without anyone asking how he feels about it — with that said, he’s really into the whole thing, and absolutely does not want to opt out.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

April 2023 — Erotic Short: Slime Breeder

An elf is used as a distraction as his party fight a gigantic slime.

3.5k. A trans masc elf getting fucked from all ends by a giant slime creature, used as a seedbed by it, then played with by his variously gendered friends in the aftermath.

Mildly to very dubious consent here, but Sam is absolutely enjoying himself by the end of it — featuring a giant slime monster, aphrodisiacs, tentacle sex, encasement, choking, oviposition and egg-laying, cumflation, overstimulation, anal, oral, and vaginal penetration, objectification, lactation, milking. All that fun and beastly stuff!

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

May 2023 — Erotic Short: The Mermaid and the Fisherman

A wanderer meets a mermaid, and the two of them work to understand each other.

This short is also available for purchase on Smashwords as an eBook, and is originally from September 2020.

7.3k, rated E, M/M. A young man fleeing home has taken up residence in an old fishing cabin on the west coast of Scotland. He is observed, very closely, by a mermaid from beyond the maerl beds nearby.

Featuring cultural differences, humour, oviposition, cervix penetration, mild chem sex from the mermaid’s aphrodisiac, some rough sex, some mildly dubious consent, stuffing, belly bulge.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

June 2023 — Erotic Short: Agony and Ecstasy

An abbot takes a stranded sailor on for… personal duties.

6k, M/M, rated E! Age difference, virginity kink, some naivety, some oral and anal, first time enthusiasm.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

July 2023 — Erotic Short: The Stasis Box

A prisoner is frozen in time with his holes still accessible for the crew of a mining vessel to use.

5k, rated E, trans M/cis M but hundreds of other people. A trans twink agrees to be involved in an experiment in lieu of his year-long prison sentence — he’s placed in a stasis box, frozen in time, with his holes still accessible for the crew of a mining vessel to make use of.

This is honestly one of the most fucked-up things I’ve ever written, it goes big on the sci-fi body horror fucky horniness.

Full consent is given throughout, the twink knows what he’s in for. Featuring medical kink, fingering, anal and vaginal fingering and sex, sensitivity, time stop, big overstimulation, mind-break and ahegao, objectification, huge come inflation, gaping, come vomiting, general degradation.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

August 2023 — Erotic Short: The Interview

A workplace roleplay with age difference and some hearty degradation.

Rated E, 4k, cis M/trans M. Younger boss/older prospective employee, pre-negotiated roleplay, degradation and humiliation, daddy kink, nipple play, PIV, riding, sex in the office, casual sex, bareback. The older man is fat, but none of the degrading language is about his body or his size except for commenting on the size of his chest — the degradation primarily is about his age and assumed loneliness.

Words used for the trans man’s body are tits and chest, one comparison to a cow’s udder; cock, cunt, hole.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

September 2023 — Erotic Short: Training Toy

A cheerleader loans out his favourite toy to the football players.

3k, rated E, trans M/many cis M. Continuing on from Stuck.

A cheerleader trains up another student to be a good fucktoy, and shares him out to local football players — featuring D/s, multiple orgasms, mild bimboification vibes, training, multiple penetration, degradation, objectification, anal, vaginal, and oral, big penetrations.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

October 2023 — Erotic Short: A Gift For the Wolfmen

A young man in a brothel is invited to join a quartet of hulking wolf-like warriors.

6.4k, rated E. Two trans men, both being gangbanged by four cis wolfmen with huge cocks.

Fantasy universe with adventurers and so forth. Featuring stuck-through-wall and grope boxes, body writing, vaginal, oral, and anal play, huge come inflation, size difference, knotting, power dynamics, virginity kink, objectification and dehumanisation, degradation, humiliation, breeding kink, body modification, mentions of lactation and pregnancy, and enthusiastic consent throughout.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

November 2023 — Erotic Short: Confession and Penance

A priest takes a hands-on approach to addressing a worshiper’s poor working habits.

11k, cis M/M, rated E! Tiernan, a manipulative workaholic who only ever relaxes during Mass services, is taken aside by Father Mullen when it all gets to be a bit too much. D/s, BDSM-approach to enforcing self-care, spanking, painplay, bit of a priest kink but it doesn’t go into that aspect too much, faith. Also some anal.

Note that by definition consent’s an issue here because this is the very definition of religious abuse, especially because Tiernan is a CSA survivor and references past CSA by another priest. Content warnings for the religious abuse and references to the CSA throughout, as well as dubious consent in other sexual situations. For all that, though, the tone is generally light-hearted and is more dark humour than dark drama.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

December 2023 — Erotic Short: Knight Tactics

An elf serves as a distraction and an exhaustion tactic for a bandit camp. By letting them fuck him.

3k, trans M/loads of cocks, assumed as cis M. Amaethon gets himself stuck in a wall so that the bandits will work out their stamina fucking him rather than fighting off the king’s guard.

Stuck in wall, free use, fully (and gleefully) consensual whilst pretending he isn’t, mild belly bulging and come inflation, gaping, exhaustion, messy and come-spattered, etc. All the fun stuff.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

My Top 12 Non-Fiction Pieces of 2023

January 2023 — Fast “Who am I?”: A Fun Game to Play with Friends

A silly fun game to play rapidly with your friends and loved ones in 2023.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

February 2023 — Our Flag Means Death S01 E01: Close Textual Analysis

Examining OFMD E1: Pilot in close detail and liveblogging/analysing the text.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon / / Read on Ao3

March 2023 — Ringing The Devil’s Doorbell: A Light-Hearted, Practical Guide

Let’s talk sex! Vulvar and vaginal stimulation for fun, pleasure, and profit.

Contents:

Preface

The Anatomy of the Vulva and Vagina: the actual anatomy of the vulva, it and the vagina’s attendant parts, and how everything fits together

On Testosterone: the effects of testosterone as a HRT treatment on the vulva and vagina in the context of sexual pleasure

(I don’t have any specific advice in regards to different intersex configurations or further genital and hormonal diversity, but that section might nonetheless be semi-relevant; there’s also some notes on vaginal atrophy that might be relevant if you’re menopausal or similar)

Stimulating the Vulva and Vagina: ringing the Devil’s doorbell, dancing about in his vestibule, and then running into (then out of) (then into) (then out o — ) his house

Additional Reading: more resources and links

Read on Medium

April 2023 — The Precarity of Subscription-Based Income

We’re basically busking online. No wonder we have anxiety about it.

Read on Medium

May 2023 — The Straight Male Gaze on Pretty Male Gays

How does it feel when straight men want to fuck us?

A quick little intro — I went ham on this one. I watched A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge and it just gave me a lot of feelings.

Warnings throughout this piece for discussion of the film’s gore and violence, the homophobia both in- and out- of universe, sexual violence, homophobia in general. I use a lot of slurs in this one because I self-identify with a lot of them, and a lot of this piece is about the ways in which queer identity is weaponised and not weaponised against us.

Bon appetit.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

June 2023 — Passing Privilege: Through My Eyes, as a Trans Man Who Passes

Second puberty and the waves we send through the spaces around us.

On Medium / / On Patreon / / On Tumblr.

July 2023 — Yentl: A Trans Man Studying Talmud is Distracted by Gay Thoughts

Yentl (1983, dir. Barbra Streisand) and Yentl the Yeshiva Boy by Isaac Bashevis Singer.

On Medium / / On Patreon.

August 2023 — Barbie Isn’t Anti-Men — It’s Anti-Toxicity

Patriarchy does damage to us all, and Barbie (2023, dir. Greta Gerwig) clearly depicts that.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

September 2023 — Close Reading: A Deep Dive into the Process

An in-depth guide into applying analysis to a piece of text and extrapolating meaning.

A close reading is what we call an in-depth analysis of a piece of text, which might be in the case of fiction a short story, or for novels and novellas might be a portion or an extract from the text.

On Medium / / On Patreon.

October 2023 — Looking For 🍑🍆💦: A Beginner’s Guide to Grindr for Trans Men

Approaching Grindr (and cruising culture) as a trans man.

Read on Medium

November 2023 — As a Trans Man, Why Do Doctors Always Want to Get Me Pregnant?

I’m so tired of fielding questions about my “lost” fertility.

Read on Medium / / Read on Patreon

December 2023 — Uncling Duties

A selection of conversations with my friends’ cats, Kira and Bercow.

On Medium / / On Patreon.

#musings #original fiction #nonfiction #writers on tumblr

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something-tofightfor · 1 year ago

Text

Smutsgiving 2023: Red Wine / Oberyn Martell

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,789

Rating: NSFW. (of course.)

Author's Note: This was the first idea I had for this event, and Oberyn paired with red wine is a match made in heaven.

Summary: Martell events are exhausting and frustrating, but Oberyn knows just how to make everything better.

Formal events were always the worst, because no matter how much you wanted to be near him, it was next to impossible.

That night was no different, and you watched Oberyn from across the room as he interacted with his guests, a gorgeous blonde on one arm and a dark haired man on the other. It’s not fair, you thought as you sipped from your water glass, the furrow in your brows deep, thanks to your frown. We both have so much responsibility, and can’t just … enjoy these things.

It wasn’t that you were unhappy - the truth was completely opposite. Martell functions meant different things to different people, and for you and Oberyn, they meant working different angles with guests.

He was the charmer, the one that sidled up to everyone and got them comfortable, ensuring that they were enjoying themselves to the point that they’d send their counterparts to you with further instructions.

And you? You were the one that kept things running smoothly, acting as the middleman between everyone of importance on both sides. You ensured that things happened as they needed to, that the right people were in contact with each other, all of the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed.

It was exhausting, but it was worth it, and when you caught Oberyn’s eye from across the room, the intensity in his gaze floored you. Mouthing a single word - hi - you nodded as he cocked his head to the side and smirked, one eye closing briefly in a wink.

It wasn’t the interaction you wanted with him, but it was enough. When he looked away to continue his conversation, you took a deep breath and returned to the one you were having, the unease coiled at the center of your chest abating slightly. Two more hours. Two more hours and then we’re done with this for a while.

—

You made it back to your room first, barely waiting for the door to close behind you before you were reaching for the button at the back of your neck.

You unfastened it, sighing as the soft material slid down your body and pooled at your feet. It only took a few more seconds for you to pull your robe on, tying it loosely around your waist before you headed to the couch and lowered yourself onto it.

You were exhausted, and even though the party had been a success, you were glad it was over. And I’ll be even more glad when we’re on that plane tomorrow and going home, because -

“You undressed without me.” His voice startled you, though his tone was low and soothing. “You should have waited.”

“I needed to get out of those clothes, Oberyn.” Groaning, you opened your eyes, focusing on where he stood. “The same way I’m sure you need to get out of yours.” You understood where he was coming from, though, because you loved watching him get dressed and undressed. I always have. “What took you so long to get up here?”

“I stopped along the way.” Oberyn turned slowly, reaching behind him and then facing you again, two glasses in one hand and the fingers of the other wrapped around the neck of an already open wine bottle. “To get this.”

“What’s the occasion?” You knew that he didn’t need one, but if he’d taken the time to stop before getting back to you, there had to be a reason. “Didn’t you drink earlier?”

“No.” He moved closer, head shaking back and forth. “You weren’t drinking and so I didn’t, either.” Oberyn sat next to you, setting the glasses down on the table and then pouring wine into them, the red liquid bright. “But that changes now.” He handed you a glass and you took it from him, letting your fingers graze his as you curled them around the stem. “To us.”

“To us.” Clinking the rim of your glass against his, you raised it to your mouth to take a sip, closing your eyes and savoring the taste. “By the way, who do you think you are winking at me like that when I’m in the middle of a conversation about -”

“You’re lucky all I did was wink at you.” He murmured the words, tongue dragging over his lower lip moments later. “I wanted to come over and drag you out of that room.” Oberyn took another drink, his eyes dropping to your mouth and lingering there. “I should have.”

“Doran would have killed you.” You took another drink, too, wrinkling your nose. “And me. And you know it.”

“I am not afraid of my brother.” He moved closer, Oberyn’s hand making its way beneath your robe so that he could settle it on your thigh. “And you shouldn’t be, either.” He drained his glass and then set it down, turning his full attention onto you. “Finish that. I want to kiss you.”

Only Oberyn Martell would have told you to guzzle down a glass of wine as expensive as the one you held. But that was another thing you’d grown accustomed to since you’d met the man - and you didn’t want to keep him waiting.

Raising the glass to your lips, you opened your mouth to swallow the last of the drink just as he slid his hand higher, the heat of his palm sending a jolt through you and causing your hand to shake and wine to spill over the edge. “Oberyn!” Laughing, you looked down and watched as the dark red spread over the light blue of your robe … and the exposed skin of your upper chest. “Two seconds. You could have waited two more -”

“No. I couldn’t.” He moved before you could respond, deftly tugging on the sash of your robe so that it fell open. “I have waited all night.” You gasped when he leaned even closer, the tip of his tongue dragging over your wine-splashed skin before he pressed his lips to it. Seven hells, he’s the worst. “Haven’t you?”

“Yes.” You nearly moaned the word out as he continued to mouth at your skin, Oberyn’s position next to you changing so that he was leaning over you, the hand on your thigh anchoring you to your spot on the couch and his other hand sliding between the open robe and your side, the heel of his hand rubbing the side swell of one breast. “Fuck that feels good.”

He hummed, the sound vibrating against your skin, and when Oberyn straightened up without taking his hands off of you, there was a mischievous look in his eyes. “I know.” Reaching over, you set the glass down on the side table and then lifted your hand and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

“I thought you wanted to kiss me, Prince Oberyn.” He groaned at the address but that was as far as he got before his mouth met yours, the slight tartness of the liquid lingering on his lips and tongue.

He kissed you hard, the man’s eagerness apparent when it deepened. But it wasn’t until he bit down on your lower lip, the edges of his teeth catching on it and tugging as he backed away that you moaned, the nails on the hand not in his hair digging into his arm through his shirtsleeve.

He was able to pull sounds from you that you didn’t even know you were capable of making, and despite the fact that he was barely touching you, that night was no different. And he knows it. “I hope you don’t mind,” he started, clearing his throat and reaching for the bottle on the table. “I’m going to make a mess of you.”

His words made you shiver, a motion that you were certain he saw, but you couldn’t reply, your entire focus on him and the way his lips looked wrapped around the neck of the bottle as he drank directly from it. The muscles in his throat worked with each swallow, and after only a few seconds, you reached for the bottle, pulling it from his hand and lifting it to your lips, head tilted back.

You drank your fill, the wine going down smoothly while Oberyn just watched, and when you finished you smiled at him, lowering the bottle briefly. “Is that a promise?” The hand on your leg slid up higher, Oberyn urging you to part your legs for him.

“Yes.” He glanced down, nodding twice at the way your robe exposed your body to his greedy eyes. “It is.” Taking another swig of wine, you hummed and then said his name, enjoying the way he prolonged bringing his gaze back up to meet yours. It makes everything worth it.

“Then let me help you out, Oberyn.” Tipping the bottle, you inhaled sharply when some of the remaining wine made contact with your skin, the liquid dripping down from your collarbone. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you won’t let good wine go to waste.”

He moved before he spoke, changing positions so that he could ease you onto your back.

And then Oberyn was above you again, one knee between your leg and the back of the couch, the other foot planted firmly on the floor. He used both hands to push your robe completely out of the way and then reached for the bottle, taking it from where it was held loosely between your fingers. “Never.” Instead of putting it on the table, though, he tipped it over and poured a small amount of wine onto your chest, his eyes following the liquid as it streaked across your skin.

As it dripped over your arm and down your side, he lowered his head and kissed the hollow at the base of your throat before licking there, the swipe of his tongue hot. You whimpered, curling the fingers of one hand into a loose fist, but he wasn’t done, following the trail of wine downward.

And when he closed his lips around your nipple and sucked, you let out a long, low moan, the sound ending on a cry of his name.

He didn’t say anything in return. Instead, Oberyn bit down, s sharp sting of pain brief but bright, the pressure decreasing at the same time he dragged his still-covered bulge against the apex of your thighs.

The wine bottle fell to the floor a few seconds later, but you barely heard it hit - nor did you care about the stain that was likely spreading across the carpet.

The only thing you were concerned about was the way Oberyn’s mouth felt as it moved across your chest - the press of his lips and the drag of his tongue all you could focus on.

---

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x female reader #turkey day 2023 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #oberyn martell masterlist #game of thrones #game of thrones fic #the red viper #red wine #thanksgiving feast

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 year ago

Text

One Bad Day....Jason's Death

Series Masterlist

“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.”

As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….

Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child.

Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?”

When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.”

“Let me go. I need to see him.”

“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”

But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.

Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.

Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.

Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”

“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”

“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”

“It’s not our place to–”

“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”

“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”

“Our son.”

“What?”

“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”

“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”

Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”

The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.

“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”

Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”

You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:

Could I have saved you if I had been there?

“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”

“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”

“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”

But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.

To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.

It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.

Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Time….If only you had more time….

And it’s all because of The Joker.

And he’s not going to get away with it any longer.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @mayhem24-7forever, @hjgdhghoe, @dazaisleftballsack, @simp027, @animefan3223, @mysticchopshop, @eternalharry, @edgycatx, @lanatheawesome, @yandere-batfamfan, @zsalvatore-mikaelson, @constantshitposter, @lauramb7, @thedumbgirl, @leonielaufeyson, @ultraxavbo, @chrismarium, @joceymoo, @shanksfav, @leyleyinpijamas, @notwonderlandsworld, @redsakura101, @outdated-titty-milk101, @lariclifford, @seoulnights5, @makhaia, @tardisin221bst, @imurdaddypromlems, @kesskirata, @roro707-blog, @scrappybear89, @homosexualjohnwayne, @dweeb-central, @sunshineflowerchild789, @happinessricardotapia, @nefariousghostbabe, @mikyapixie, @angelicadiabolus, @hotleaf-juice, @saltedcoffeescotch, @hermosavidagg, @iveofficiallylostmymarbles, @avengersftspn, @pantasticalcat, @staynctzen127, @yunho-leeknow, @blue-aconite, @leyleyinpijamas, @y-napotat, @jadynchronicle, @redrydersrequiem, @violet2507, @venomsvl, @time-shardz, @kimmib13, @sapnapbitches, @thedazzlingburglar, @yunho-leeknow, @nina-isabelle, @melancholicmooosic, @rayofsarkasm, @deppresseddyslexic

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