#...not that there is necessarily going to be more of it but still

[theoretically-questionable]

As far as I can tell, like 90% of the reason that the Small Child In My House and I get on so well is that I have always *asked* them about things (or told them what I'm about to do, step by step, if they don't get to choose in a particular instance). I've done this since they were born, basically.

Sometimes they will be in the middle of a seemingly unsolvable meltdown but still calm down as soon as I walk in and ask them what's going on—not because they 'Like Me More' or even because they necessarily think I can Solve The Problem, but (as far as I can tell) because they know I will *listen*, try to give them choices, and give them the space to calm down and make a choice in their own time.

This often just prevents meltdowns and upsets, too; sometimes the difference between running away crying from A Necessary Task and actively asking me to Do The Task is a "Hey, I'm going to have to do this soon" and five minutes of waiting.

I think a common thread between people who very deliberately do this sort of thing is that we remember (often fairly vividly) what it is like to Lack Autonomy and Be Very Small.

I remember what it was like to be roughly three years old and it sucked so so bad. Like, my parents were pretty good about listening to me but they were still of the passive, unquestioned attitude that kids were still "becoming people", and with that comes a whole host of small but important assumptions around autonomy, selfhood, and self-directed desires and actions.

My memories of being three years old are not *simpler* than my memories of being twenty-three. I was a whole person then, still cognitively developing but also very much *a person*, just in a much smaller container.

people laugh at me for always asking a baby's permission before picking them up but let me tell you when my nephew was seven months old I picked him up off the floor without checking first and he was absolutely outraged and reproached me with terrible wails. just because a person is very small doesn't mean it's not scary and upsetting to be scooped up out of nowhere by a much larger person. quite the contrary. obviously if a baby is in danger or the situation is otherwise pressing you can temporarily suspend the rules of polite behavior and just grab them up, much like you are allowed to violently shove a grownup if a speeding car is bearing down on them. but that doesn't mean you just go around shoving people as a matter of routine. show some consideration to our latest arrivals on this horrible planet. they are better at communicating than you think

[heart-eyed-love]

Charms

Summary | Eddie has a small gift for you before you both leave for Christmas break

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to-Lovers, Cursing

Word Count | 1.2k

An | Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, this is coming out late :( but I hope everyone had a good day!

It was the last day before Christmas break, and you were more than relieved to say the least. You need a 2 week break away from this shit hole. And while you had your friends, you still needed a break from this place.

You were gonna go visit some of your family members during the break, not the plans you had originally hoped for, but in your opinion just about anything was better than this school.

You had slightly brought up to your friends in passing that you were gonna be out of town during break, but it wasn’t something you had necessarily thought they’d care to remember. And it wasn’t something you’d be offended about them forgetting either way, you knew something you tend to fade to the background of settings.

So that afternoon, as you shoved all the books and papers you’d no longer need in your backpack over this break back into your locker, you let yourself sigh in relief as you now held a significantly lighter backpack.

“Hey…” The voice sneaks up behind you, causing you to jump. And when you turn to look at the source and smirking Eddie comes into view.

“Hi?” You answer back, raised brows at the boy in front of you, “What’s up?” You ask, shutting your locker as you do, and he can’t help but take notice of the jangling of your charm bracelet he knows all too well.

“Oh you know, nothing much. Excited to get out of here?”

“Yeah, I mean, who isn’t? It’s school… so I’m pretty sure everyone is eager to get out of here… aren’t you?” You ask back, looking up at the boy in front of you. Even after hanging out with him and the hellfire, you still feel a little awkward around him.

“Oh yeah totally, I’m gonna spend my whole break probably getting high, and doing jack shit, you know, basically the whole point of the break for me, right?” He’s all smirky and it’s so distracting when he gets like this… well when he gets like this with you. You never completely got used to the times where you’re the center of his attention.

“Yeah, right… Sounds nice…” You nod softly as you throw your backpack over your shoulder.

“It will be… if you weren’t going out of town I’d invite you over…” He’s hasn’t necessarily gone shy but he’s not as confident as he normally is and it’s throwing you off a bit. And If what he says is true, and he’d really like to invite you over, you’d take that over this trip to see a few family members who don’t necessarily give too much of a shit about you. But no. Now you have to miss out on the one thing you’ve always wanted.

“That sounds a lot better than having to go hang out with a bunch of family members who don’t even know who I am…” You chuckle slightly to yourself, and he smiles sweetly back at you and you can’t help yourself from feeling distracted from the look on his face.

“Yeah? Well that’s kinda why I came over here…” He pulls his back from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for a second, before pulling out a poorly wrapped box. A small bow sitting on top of it. Your brows raise in question, “Uhm… I got you something… you know, for Christmas.” He smiles.

“Oh shit, really? I- I didn’t get you anything….” You feel bad immediately, you had no idea he was gonna get you a gift, if you had you wouldn’t allow yourself to go all out for him like you always truly wanted.

“Oh no! No, don’t worry about it… it’s more like just so you don’t forget about us while you’re gone…”

“Forget about you?”

“Yeah, you know… Hellfire… me.” He smirks. To be quite frank he didn’t give a shit about Hellfire in this stance, forget about them all you want just don’t go forgetting about him.

“I’m only gonna be gone for like 2 weeks, if that.” You say with a teasing laugh, that has the soft smile reappearing on his face, and you don’t notice it, but his face heats up.

“Yeah, well here anyways…” He hands the box with a shrug.

You grab the box from him with a smile, “Do you want me to open it now?”

“Yeah, go for it…”

You pull the nicely tied bow from the top, leaving only the terribly wrapped box, and you couldn’t help but feel a swarm of butterflies. It was cute. He was cute. “Sorry, apparently I’m shit at wrapping.” He chuckled lightly.

“It’s alright.” You smile up at him, before looking back down to ripping the paper off the gift and a small box is now in front of you, Eddie grabs the wrapping paper from your hands for you, shoving it into his backpack.

You open the box and a small charm is revealed to you, it’s a small black bat. It’s beautiful, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a charm. It reminds you more of Eddie than the rest of the boys and you can’t help but like it more for that fact.

Eddie inspects your face as you look at the charm. He saw it at the mall while he was trying to find something for Wayne and for some reason he just needed to get it for. But damn, for some reason this small piece of metal was more expensive than he thought it needed to be.

But whatever it was for you anyways.

“You like it?” He asks, slightly nervous at the lack of words coming from you.

You look up from the charm in the box and see that smidge of fear in his face, “What? Oh my gosh! Yes, of course!” And the smile you love so much graces his face, “I love it, thank you, Eddie.”

“I’m glad you like it… thought it would go nice with all the other ones you have…” He lets his fiddle with the charm bracelet on your wrist, and you blush a tad bit at the feeling of his fingers against it.

“I really do…” You watch as the hallways drain of students and you know your time with him is limited, your bus is gonna leave soon, “My bus is about to leave… but thank you again, Eddie. It means a lot…”

“Yeah, of course… Uh, I mean I could drive you home if you want? Are you leaving today?”

“Oh, uh… No, we’re leaving tomorrow. Like ass crack of dawn.” You roll your eyes.

“Damn, first day of break and you’re still having to walk up early?” He laughs, and you can’t help but smile at the sounds.

“Right? That’s what I said, she just told me to get over it so it looks like I’m waking up early… but uh, yeah… a ride would be really nice…” I nod with a shy smile.

“Sweet, follow me…” He leads you out to his van, one you’ve seen time and time before but only ever rarely been in it. Definitely never just the two of you. He opened the van door for you and everything.

You were definitely gonna come back from break with a gift of your own for him.

[femmefeedist]

The concept of someone who has a huge subby lil crush on you finding out that you're into feedism and they aren't necessarily *into it* but they're into *you* and will do anything to please you and turn you on. So they offer to play around with it with you, just for fun. You nervously agree. You're sure you'll both just have fun with it for a night and maybe feed them some ice cream or pizza or something. When the day comes, they excitedly sit down and start to eat for you, ready to make you proud. They stuff bite after bite into their unexpectedly greedy mouth. You can't stop watching this happen in front of your eyes. This isn't real. They start slowing down after awhile, so you ask if they will let you feed the rest to them. They instantly agree, putting their hands behind their back so you can lift each bite to their eager little mouth. You don't even need to tie them up, they would never disobey your whims. They're surprisingly quick at finishing everything when it's your own hands doing the feeding. Then you notice their belly starts to poke out from under their shirt. FUCK. That sliver of belly really stirs something inside of you. You ask if they can handle more. Dessert or drinks or snacks or candy or whatever. They see how excited you are and in their desperation to please you, beg you to do whatever you want to them. So you overfeed them to watch the bottom of their gut get rounder and rounder. You can't get that image out of your head, and it stirs that feeder inside of you. Weeks later and several stuffings, snacks and desserts later, that shirt doesn't fit them at all. Not only do they have a gut, but they're so happy they're making you so excited they hardly notice it. They are so desperate to please you that they'd literally change their body for you.

And you still want more. As long as they're begging to please you, they're going to get fatter for you. Another bite?

[comatosebunny09]

As a result of watching more dramas, humor me.

You plan to go home for the holidays to spend them with your parents. 

Your mother’s been setting you up on blind dates in hopes of eventually finding you a match. She reasons you’re not getting any younger, so it’s time you settle down and start working on a family. Her intentions are good, but you just wish she’d stop badgering you. 

You don’t necessarily live the lifestyle where you can afford to have a partner right now.

You work for Onychinus’ leader, Sylus, as an assassin. You’re at the peak of your game, so much so that you’re considered his right hand by his enemies. You also secretly harbor feelings for your boss, but you know they’re fruitless because you think a relationship, let alone with you, is the furthest thing from his mind.

Anyways, you’re drinking at one of Sylus’ bars one evening, venting to him about your mother. He always humors you when you’re not working—you bring a certain flair to his life that he admits makes his days much more entertaining.

“Why don’t I pretend to be your boyfriend, then? Just to get her off your back,” he suggests with an amused crinkle to his eyes, watching you as he sips his whiskey.

You snort incredulously. Sylus and boyfriend are never two words you would imagine fitting in the same sentence. Still, you can’t deny entertaining the idea of what it’d be like to be something…more to him. 

You brush him off as just humoring you as usual, snatching your coat from the barstool and fixing your boss with a sardonic smirk. 

“Yeah, right. See ya around, bossman.” 

Your flight home leaves first thing in the morning. As much as you would like to stick around to shoot the shit with him, you need your rest to deal with your mother come morning.

Fast forward, and you’re back in your childhood home. You feel strange, being in your cutesy, innocent bedroom like there isn’t so much invisible blood on your hands and like you haven’t long shed the sheltered skin you once wore when you were younger. 

Your parents don’t know the full extent of what you do. They know you make a generous amount of money—you’ve bought them luxurious cars and clothes and sent them on exclusive vacations. You would buy them a plot of land with a beautiful home built from the ground up if they’d let you, but your parents insist on staying where they’re familiar.

An old childhood friend’s having a get-together. Your mother insists you go—this is the perfect opportunity for you to network and possibly find a future husband. Despite your protests, she pressures you, and you begrudgingly agree. 

You stick out like a sore thumb, donned in expensive fabrics at the party. Years of being an assassin and seductress have given you the gift of gab, so you’re the life of the party. Eventually, people start inquiring about your love life. Their questions become so invasive you step out momentarily to gather yourself. Just because you’re good at flapping your gums doesn’t mean you don’t occasionally become overwhelmed.

You decide to text Sylus to help ease your anxiety. You text each other quite often, and someone peering at your relationship from the outside would assume you’re just close friends. 

[ Sylus ]: that bad?

[ You ]: yeah. they won’t stop asking when i’ll get married. 

[ You ]: it’s really pissing me off. 

[ Sylus ]: lol

[ Sylus ]: well why dont you leave?

[ You ]: because i know i’ll never hear the end of it.

[ Sylus ]: hmm.

[ Sylus ]: would you like some company then?

[ You ]: 😏😏😏 what are you gonna teleport here or something?

[ Sylus ]: look up.

On cue, you glance skyward as the telltale shadow of a crow circles the ground around you. You squint your eyes against the sun’s brilliance, making out distinct iridescent feathers circling above. “Mephisto?” you suspiciously inquire.

You look down, only to be met with a familiar swatch of scarlet and white. “Sylus?!” you shriek, jumping back and clutching your pounding heart, almost having shit yourself.

He wears that customary smirk, looking so cool with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He wears a tailored, dark suit, his blazer hanging off his shoulders, ruffled by the summery breeze. “In the flesh.”

You swallow against the stickiness of your throat, wide-eyed and feeling like you’re dreaming. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sylus examines his nails, his tone conspiratorial. “Well, I was just passing through—”

“Like hell you were!” You aim an accusatory finger at him. “We’re, like, 1,700 miles from the N109! There’s no way you’re just ‘passing through’!”

He shrugs, feigning innocence. 

A few of your high schoolmates, summoned by the commotion, gather in the courtyard behind you. The crowd oohs and ahs, whispering as they study your tall, devastatingly handsome boss. One of the women asks who he is, admiration evident in his voice. You know that tone too well: if you don’t claim him, I will. 

You swallow your resolve, seizing the opportunity to shut everyone up. 

You sidle up to your boss with a fake smile, encircling one of his arms with both of yours, your hands wrapped around his impressive bicep. You cling to him, playing up the theatrics of a docile girlfriend. It makes you sick.

Sylus smiles down at you in your peripheral, the omniscient lift of his brow letting you know that he’s never going to let you live down what next comes from your mouth.

“This is my fiancé!” You pat his chest with a giggle pinched from your lungs, cold dread dropping into your belly. 

What the hell are you even doing?

[kcl1627]

Not necessarily. We'll still have billionaires because of the organisation-individual Duality. The company and the individual who own it are different things. So say i have a company, that reaches the 999 million limit, but it is the company that did, not me as an individual so i can technically go ahead and get 999 million more under my name (which obviously is more than a billion). Then i can go ahead and open anothet company and that will grow to 999 million because whenever thr original company grows to 999 million this new company sends the original one a bill of (idk) 100 million, then the company also pays tax on that 100 million so the values go down to 899 million and 99 million (took tax to be 1 million), then the second company can go ahead and maybe donate this money to a charity owned by me, so yeah maybe I'll spend like 2 million feeding kids but i can fake on the records that i used all of the 99 million, so now i have a secret stack of 97 million which is appart from the original 999 million that i already had and the 999 million that my company had and the cycle can continue on because there is no limit to the number of companies, or charitable organisations that are all under my name yet are distinct from me as an individual, hence i could technically be running the whole market just under different names

But i am just a dumb person in the world who has neither read nor studied any of the economic theories related to capitalism nor have i researched or studied any aspect of capitalism alone and i am pretty sure that the mat doesn't add up. So yeah i think capitalism ends by puting a 999 million limit

[dexteri0us]

no, i don't want nothing crazy; just wanna get you alone; and all of this snow is falling; i can make you fall too

pairing: best friend's dad!dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity, harrison (listen, i'm not a fan of his, but he serves a purpose), age gap (both reader and harrison are in college), best friend's dad!dexter, smut - shower sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, dom!dexter

summary: requested: "shower sex with dexter? please and thank you 🙏🏻"

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: i honestly love new blood and i will always consider it a christmas tv. merry christmas!🎄

Spending Christmas in Iron Lake wasn’t your initial plan, but now that you thought about it, it was for the better. You were supposed to spend Christmas with your dad this year. It also included him picking you up in Iron Lake and driving you to New York, but he backed out at the last minute. You weren’t even surprised at this point; he always went out of his way to let you down. Or maybe it was just your perception. After all, he said the same thing about you.

Going to your mom’s wasn’t an option either, not with her boyfriend in the picture. He was a carbon copy of your dad, not just in appearance in attitude too. Arrogant, dismissive, and always acting like spending time with you was beneath him, especially when you were a teenager. He’d never really made an effort to connect. So, you were pretty happy to get into college and move into the dorms. But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to spend Christmas alone.

You couldn’t ask Harrison to take you either because he had plans with Audrey.  

“Fuck.” You muttered, reading the text from your dad.  

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked, glancing up from across the table. A smudge of clung to the corner of his mouth as he took another bite of his cheeseburger, his eyes briefly scanning the diner for a waitress that would bring him another cup of coffee.

“Dad bailed on me. I’ll probably have to hitchhike to get to New York.”

“What? No way! I’ll drive you,” he said immediately.

“Harrison.” You gave him a look. “You promised Audrey to help her and Angela with the charity drive.”

“Out of all people, I think Angela and Audrey would understand.” 

You raised a brow at him, knowing full well he’d argue until he was blue in the face, but you weren’t about to let him ruin his plans because of you. You were big on keeping promises, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason someone broke theirs.

“Well, you can always spend Christmas with us. My dad won’t mind.”

And that’s how you ended up swapping the couch for the bed with Harrison every night, spending the first of many Christmas breaks with the Morgans. Well, technically the Morgan-Lindsays, but to you, Harrison’s dad would always be Mr. Morgan.

When you first called him that, he just stared at you, almost startled, but Harrison had quickly jumped in to explain. Not to you, to his dad, that you just couldn’t get used to the difference in their last names. He seemed to relax a little after that, though he still looked kind of stiff most of the time.

Sometimes, you wondered if he didn’t like you, or if your presence made him uneasy. But Harrison had reassured you that he was always like that. He’s just weird like that. Don’t take it personally.

So, you didn’t. And truth be told, over the next Christmases you spent with the father-son duo, you became more comfortable around Mr. Morgan – or Jim, as he insisted on calling him. “Jim” just felt unnatural to you, so usually, you just settled for “hey” to get his attention. But every now and then, “Mr. Morgan” would slip out of your mouth. And truth be told, you thought he liked it.

Eventually, it would become like a running joke between you two.

One night, during your second Christmas in Iron Lake, you caught him with that amused smile on his face when you said it again.

“What?” You asked, passing him a plate to dry as the two of you cleaned up after dinner. Harrison was in the other room, button-mashing his way through a video game.

“What?” Mr. Morgan asked, glancing at you with mock confusion.

“Every time I call you Mr. Morgan, you look like you’re holding back some big inside joke.”

“Do I?” he said lightly, his brows furrowed, but the smirk formed by his lips didn’t falter.

“Yeah.” You snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing. “It’s weird.”

“Weird? I’ll have to talk to Harrison, he’s bad influence.”

You just rolled your eyes. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You had developed almost a feet-kicking crush on him and his teasing wasn’t helping. You felt like a little girl with a silly crush on her classmate.

You remember how reserved he had been, intense, when you met him for the first time. It had made you a little bit uncomfortable, but paradoxically, you preferred that to some pretense-interest in your life. He already knew about your situation with your dad and your mother – or more specifically, with her boyfriend.

You loved Harrison, but he kind of had a big mouth on him, and he had told his dad. You could tell from the way Mr. Morgan avoided the subject altogether. Honestly, it was refreshing. Audrey’s mom asked about your parents every year – polite but a bit probing, sometimes you felt like she was judging you and or maybe thought there was more to the story. You didn’t blame her, though. First, she was a cop, and second, they were your family, after all. At least, by blood.

Still, you felt more welcome here than you ever did with your parents. Mr. Morgan made it so easy too, even if things had been a little awkward at first.

The first Christmas you spent in Iron Lake, you ended up in the woods with Mr. Morgan, collecting firewood. Harrison made sure you felt comfortable being alone with him, and you did, it was just a little awkward.

You didn’t know what was weirder – spending Christmas in Iron Lake, or trudging into the woods along with your best friend’s dad. He didn’t exactly scream “festive cheer” with his quiet, no-nonsense demeanor.

Harrison had once told you that he wasn’t always like that. Apparently, there had been some kind of hunting accident, back when Harrison was learning how to shoot. He’d hit his dad, barely missing the heart, but he'd survived. Harrison described it as a Christmas miracle, but from that moment on, Mr. Morgan just hadn’t felt the need to celebrate Christmas like he had the years prior.

You watched him move through the snowy woods with certainty, like he already knew exactly which trees to check for fallen branches.

“So, uh… you do this every year?”

Nice. Real charming. You were a master in manipulating professors into extending deadlines. How are you so bad at making casual conversation?

“Pretty much,” he replied without looking up, crouching to grab a branch half-buried in the snow. “Wood-burning stove keeps the place warm. It’s more reliable than the heater.”

“Oh.” You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. The cool air bit into your cheeks, your boots crunching in the snow as you followed a few steps behind. Then you tried again. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d be big on central heating.”

You tried to joke, but he stopped for a moment, straightening up and glancing at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “What kind of guy do I strike you as?”

“Well, you know.” You shrugged, trying to not get distracted by the joke going over his head. “The ‘off-the-grid cabin’ type. Knows his way around a woodchipper. Probably has a couple of tarps in the trunk, just in case.”

He watched you, probably waiting for a smile to crack, but your expression remained serious. You started to think maybe you’d gone too far. But then he finally snorted softly, pointing the branch in your direction.

“Tarps are versatile.”

His delivery was deadpan too, so dry it caught you off guard. Was that… a joke? You couldn’t tell, but you let out a laugh anyway. You decided to just role with it.

“Right. For winter emergencies.”

He didn’t respond, just gave a faint nod as he tossed another branch onto the sled you’d brought along.

“You’re doing fine,” he said after a moment, his tone surprisingly reassuring.

It made you scoff, your breath puffing in the cold air.

“Thanks Mr. Morgan, I was really worried about failing Firewood 101.”

You really enjoyed spending time with him like that, even though he didn’t talk much. But the way he adjusted his pace so you wouldn’t fall behind, stepped on a stick that was stubbornly stuck to the sole of your boot, or helped you with a stubborn log trapped under the snow made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

When that Christmas break ended, you felt kind of bittersweet, because you knew you’d now see him only occasionally when he’d visit Harrison in New York. That is, if you were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. But the year went by like nothing, and lo and behold, Harrison had invited you to spend another Christmas with them, saying that his dad brought it up first. To Harrison, it meant nothing, to you? Every-fucking-thing.

So now, during the second Christmas with the Morgans, you were doing domestic shit with him, like washing dishes while he was teasing you. It made your body all jittery with every passing moment. Hell, you didn’t even mind that he didn’t have a dishwasher, because you liked doing dishes with him. And Harrison was grateful for that too. See, everyone was getting something out of it.

“Maybe I just think it’s funny. You’re so committed to it. But I guess it’s better than calling me hey.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Okay, you brought that on yourself. No offense, but Jim just doesn’t suit you. It’s too basic.”

He had that faint smile on his face again, his eyelids dropped as if he was having a whole inner monologue again, but you didn’t call him out this time.

When that Christmas ended, you didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Harrison started inviting you to every holiday – Easter, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Of course, you couldn’t make it to all of them, but you did appreciate the extra time you got to spend with Mr. Morgan. He’d even helped you, Harrison and Audrey move them into their new apartment in New York. And you were too naïve and paranoid, so you thought he was doing it all for you.

So, next Christmas, you decided to come prepared.

“You can’t give her another necklace. Try to be original,” you said, sipping on your coffee, watching Harrison rub his temples as he tried to think of a Christmas present for Audrey.

“Okay… okay.” He sighed, letting his hands fall to the table, grinding his teeth as if he was contemplating his thoughts. “I have an idea. But it’s big and you’re gonna laugh.”

“Okay. All the more reason why you should tell me.”  

He took a deep breath, and then, he spit it out.

“I bought her a ring. An engagement ring.”

Your eyes widened and your lips broke into a huge smile. “No fucking way. Are you fucking kidding?”

“See? I knew you were gonna laugh at me.” He rolled his eyes and fell back into his seat, crossing his arms like a child.

“I’m not laughing at you. That’s amazing, Harrison. Oh, my God.”

“But?”

You stayed silent for a moment, figuring out a way to put it gently. “But… Audrey hates clichés.”

He closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Fuck.”

“No, hey. You can propose to her, but maybe don’t make it the main thing, you know.”

He sighed, rising to his feet with a small scowl on his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I’m so happy for you two. And she will be too.”

You exchanged smiles before he made his exit. You leaned against the back of the seat and looked out of the window to your right side, still smiling. You wondered if Mr. Morgan and Angela knew.

You got back to the crossword puzzle you put under your plate, munching on the bagel to fill your stomach and enjoying the faint Christmas music playing from the speakers. The waitress had just refilled your cup when someone slid into the booth across from you.

At first, you didn’t look up, assuming it was Harrison again, maybe realizing he’d forgotten something. But when you finally glanced up, you were met with a face you hadn’t expected.

“Morning,” the man said, his voice smooth and polite. It made you sit up just a little bit straighter.

“Uh, morning.” You smiled back.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” he continued, leaning forward just slightly. “I’m Kurt. Kurt Caldwell.” He extended a hand across the table, his palm up.

You introduced yourself, putting your hand into his. You’d heard about Mr. Caldwell. They’d said he was a very kind and fair employer, someone who took care of his own. But after his son's death, he'd vanished from the public eye for a while.

For such a small town, there was sure a lot of accidents. Tragedies. On the brighter side, the number of of missing women cases dropped in the past few years, so that's that.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, just visiting,” you said with a smile but remained cautious. After all, he was a stranger. And you’re not one to underestimate the stranger danger rule. Not even in a small community like this.

“Really? We don’t have many visitors this time of year, Christmas tends to keep people close to home. You staying with family?”

“Friends,” you corrected.

“That’s nice. It’s always good to have people you can rely on during the holidays.”

You offered him another polite smile, unsure of what to say. He seemed harmless, but people randomly coming up to you were instantly weird to you. Welcome to a small town.

“You know, if you’re looking for something to do while you’re in town, I run a little truck stop just outside the main strip. Got a great diner there, too, and we’re always looking for friendly faces to stop by. First meal’s on me.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” you replied, laughing with him.

You pretended to get back to your puzzle, hoping he’d leave you alone, but before he could say anything else, the bell above the diner’s door jingled, and you heard your name.

You turned to see Mr. Morgan standing in the doorway, his presence commanding. He scanned the booth, his eyes landing on Kurt before flicking to you.

“Oh, hi.” You waved awkwardly at him as you watched him stride towards your table.

“Harrison forgot his gloves,” he told you, even though his gaze was locked on Kurt.

“Oh, right. I’ll text him.” You grabbed your phone, completely oblivious to the silent standoff happening between Mr. Morgan and Mr. Caldwell.

Mr. Caldwell stood, his smile losing some of its warmth. “Well, I should get going. It was nice to meet you, YN. Hope I’ll see you around.”

You gave him a polite nod and with that, he turned and walked out of the diner.

Mr. Morgan waited until the door closed behind him before he finally spoke.

“You okay?”

You hit send and looked up.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Just checking.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, grabbing the empty sugar packet on the table and crumpling it in his hand. “But next time, maybe stick to sitting with people you actually know.”

This time, his tone was firm, almost scolding. You blinked at him, taken aback by this side of him. Now that you thought about it, you had never seen him pissed. And you didn’t know how to react. Your muscle memory took over for you, feeling the need to get defensive.

“Okay… I wasn’t – he just sat down. I didn’t –”

“Finish your breakfast. I’ll drive you back.” He interrupted, glancing out the window one more time as he watched Kurt’s truck disappear down the road.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he was ordering you around, or the way his hand hovered over the small of your back as he led you out of the diner, or the darkness that spread across his face, but something was sending shivers down your spine.

That evening, it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of Mr. Morgan. You started wearing more revealing clothes, nothing fancy, just simple shorts and tank tops that would just show your skin, even though it was literally freezing outside. Overtime, you got bolder, getting close to him when Harrison wasn’t looking, unnecessarily leaning over him or brushing against him with your ass. When it was your turn on the couch, you’d purposefully stay uncovered, hoping that the tight shorts would ride up your ass while you were sleeping, to bring a little diversity to his early-morning routines.

He was a smart man. He knew what you were doing. And unfortunately for you, he was resilient.

“You sure you aren’t cold?” he’d asked once as you mixed the batter for gingerbread cookies, leaning casually against the counter behind you. And when you turned around, you saw his eyes flick from your exposed legs to your face. He did exactly nothing to hide it.

“I’m sure.”

You gave him an innocent smile and returned your focus to the batter, smirking to yourself.

“It’s below freezing outside.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

“Exactly. Outside. That’s why we collect firewood, right?”

“Hmm.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he studied you. Or tried to intimidate you? Honestly, you had no idea. “Doesn’t really explain why you’ve been walking around dressed like it’s summer for the past week.”

You paused, holding the bowl against your ribcage as you turned to face him.

“Maybe I’m just trying to liven up this place. Bring some Miami energy to Iron Lake.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Miami energy?” He repeated the words like they amused him, though his tone was dry. “Interesting choice.”

Your cheeks flushed and a shiver ran down your arms – and not from the cold. Maybe, just maybe, you should have kept your mouth shut. Harrison had told you that they’d moved from Florida. But you didn’t need to mention that part.

You were waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared at you, with that expression on his face that said that you were crossing a line. He made you too aware of your whole being – your skin, your lips, your eyes, everything was twitching or at least it felt like it was.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, trying as much as you could to make it unnoticeable, you turned your back to him again. He didn’t say anything more, and when you heard him walk away, you finally felt like you had space to breathe again. You hoped he at least checked you out one more time before leaving. Your cheeks still burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and your body ached with an unfulfilled desire that he seemed intent on ignoring.

But still. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe. You just needed to figure out how to crack him.

Sometimes, less was more. So, the next evening, you decided to try something else. You’d packed a pair of thigh-high, cable-knit burgundy socks that you almost never wore – you found out quickly it was too impractical for everyday use. You thanked yourself for not selling them on Vinted, because now, they had a perfect use.

They clung perfectly to your legs, and you paired them with an over-sized sweater that was barely covering your thighs, leaving a teasing strip of skin visible when you moved. And that was the only thing you were relying on. Well, that and your sweater riding up when you’d stretch yourself up to hang the Christmas decorations.

You slid into your Birkenstocks and took a deep breath. Showtime.

You had been at the cabin alone, but you knew exactly when he was coming home. You’d timed it all perfectly, waiting until you knew he’d walk in and see you in the middle of something. Harrison wouldn’t have noticed the outfit, but Mr. Morgan noticed everything, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It was quiet as you set up for decorating, untangling the mess of Christmas lights while waiting. Any minute now. And then, you felt a gust of icy wind as Mr. Morgan made his entrance. You glanced over your shoulder, greeting him with a fleeting smile, pretending not to pay him too much attention.

“How was work?” you asked as you started to wrap the lights around the mantle, focusing on draping the string evenly.

“Average.” He said as he threw his car keys into the bowl by the door. “Did the cold finally get to you?”

You smirked to yourself, proud that you made unable to resist commenting on your clothes. First thing that came to his mind. Meaning the image of you in your usual shorts must've been lingering somewhere in his had. It had to be.

“Yeah, you were right. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in bed, on the cusp of dying,” you said, feigning defeat. “Where’s Harrison? He was supposed to help me.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”

Well, you did. He was still at the tavern, because you told him you’d start at around nine. It was around six o’clock.

“Never mind." you said with a small shrug, turning to adjust a strand of lights. "At least I don’t have to listen to how everything's at the wrong angle.”

That earned a fait snort from him. His boots thudded against the floor as he crossed the room.  “You need a hand?”

“No, thanks. But you’re welcome to supervise. You’re good at that.”

“Funny.”  

“Is it?”

You reached for the next decoration – a thin garland of cranberries – and stretched up on your tiptoes to hook it around the nail, feeling the hem of your sweater ride up, baring the tops of your thighs. You could almost feel the moment he noticed by the way the silence in the room sharpened.

“I should’ve bought you some proper clothes for Christmas.”

Oh, my God. You couldn’t believe it worked.

“Really? And what would you consider proper, Mr. Morgan?”

You turned to face him, watching his eyes darken, his pupils dilate as his eyes flicked to your legs and then back to your face, his jaw tightening slightly. “Something warmer.”

“Warmer?” you echoed, glancing down at your cozy outfit. “I thought this was perfectly appropriate for decorating.”

“Appropriate for what, exactly?”

You tilted your head, the corners of your lips quirking upward as you shrugged playfully. “For making the place feel festive.”

“Festive.” He repeated with a strong voice. “If you say so.”

You stepped closer, your fingers fiddling with a stray cranberry that had fallen into your hand. “You don’t approve?”

Oof. Well, go big or go home.  

His posture shifted, straightening just enough to make him seem even taller, making you crane your neck to hold the eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”

A tiny victory. You nearly let your grin slip, but you had to hold it back. You still didn’t get what you wanted.

“Well, if you have any decorating tips, I’m all ears," you said casually, turning your attention back to the box of ornaments. You pulled out another string of lights and moved around the room.

You repeated the same tactics again and again. Sometimes, you bent down deliberately to give him a different angle as he ate his dinner, before retreating to the couch and doing something on his computer. Other times, you stretched a little too far to reach something, the edge of your sweater lifting again, revealing more skin.

The room was finally coming together, warm light casting shadows across the walls, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. You collected the empty boxes and stray bits of ribbon scattered on the floor and stepped back to admire your work.

With everything in place, you decided to retreat to the bathroom for a well-earned shower. Stripping out of your sweater and socks, you paused with your hand on the faucet knob, another idea sparking in your mind.

If he wanted to keep his composure, he was going to have to work harder. You hadn't done all of this for nothing.

You grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around yourself before heading into the living room, where he was still locked in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

“Mr. Morgan?” you called, your voice intentionally soft.

“Yes?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and his brow immediately fell, his eyes roaming your body yet again.

“The shower isn’t working. You think you could take a look at it?”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing, trying to decipher your intentions. Shit, he was already onto you and you were scared you’d really scare him away. But then he rose to his feet and made his way to the bathroom. He eyed you suspiciously as he walked by you, but you just gave him an innocent smile. He disappeared into the bathroom, the faint creak of the old wooden door echoing through the cabin. You followed close behind, feeling the chill of the room raise goosebumps on your skin. The sound of him inspecting the faucet, twisting the knobs, testing the showerhead and eventually the sound of water filled the silence.

“It’s working fine. You probably didn’t turn the knob far enough.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You stepped further into the cramped space, closing the door behind you quietly and leaning against it, nibbling on your lip.

He turned around, sighing as he was already aware of you caging him.

“YN,” he said, giving you a chance to back out. “What are you doing?”

He stepped closer to you, his sturdy figure towering over you. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, trying to not let your composure slip.

“Well, I thought maybe you could teach me how to fix it,” you shrugged your shoulders, the words stumbling out before you could really think them through.

“You don’t need to know how to fix it if it’s not broken.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the towel tighter, the only thing keeping you grounded, really. You could be here forever with this back and forth, words felt useless. So instead of saying anything, you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn’t bold, not entirely; you lingered just long enough to make your intention clear, then pulled back.

You couldn’t read him, his eyes were closed and his lips still parted from the kiss before he finally spoke.

“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Why? Because it doesn’t fit into your routine?” You meant it as a joke, but this was really not the time.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might walk away. But then he stepped just a little bit closer, his hands bracing on either side of the door behind you, caging you in.

“You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of.”

You probably couldn’t, but it didn’t even matter. You found him attractive, and you wanted him. It was as simple as that.

“You sure you want to take that risk? All because you can’t help but act on your impulses? Last chance. Walk away.”

But you didn’t and you let him know with a subtle shake of your head. And that was it. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped like a thread pulled too tight. His mouth was on yours in an instant, the kiss rough and urgent. His hand slid from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss.

You’d never been with an older man, but man, was this something else. He wasn’t careful about it. Even though he didn’t strike you as the most confident guy at first sight, the kiss convinced you otherwise. It was a stark contrast to your previous boyfriends. They’d been clumsy and eager, but Mr. Morgan – Jim knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his lips left yours, trailing along your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin in a way that made your knees weak. He didn’t waste any more time as his other hand slid up your inner thigh and beneath the towel, going straight to your pussy. You gasped as his finger found your wetness, fighting the urge to shy away.

In no time, his clothes were gone and the towel pooled on the floor. He gripped your hips firmly, turning your bodies around and guiding you under the steady stream of water pouring from the showerhead. The sensation of cool water against your skin was overshadowed by the way his hands roamed your body and pulled you against him, making you dig your nails into his biceps.

“Jim,” you gasped as his cock brushed against your cunt, but his hand shot up to your face, covering your mouth.

“No.” He growled. “You picked the wrong time to use that name.”

Your brows knit together in confusion. That name? What was that supposed to mean? 

“Get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed, sinking to your knees in front of him, your kneecaps digging into the wet tiles. He shifted his body so his broad frame was shielding you from the stream of water, making you aware of the cool air prickling your damp skin.

The droplets were cascading down his chest and over the taut lines of his stomach. Your eyes lifted from the scar on his left side to meet his, and for a moment, he just simply looked at you. Admired you. Then, with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other stroking his cock, he guided you closer.

You opened your mouth automatically, your lips almost wrapping around his head, but before you made a contact, he gripped your soaked hair and pulled you away, making you shriek.

“Did I tell you you could put your mouth on me?”   

“No,” you said with a small voice.

“That’s right. So, let’s try this again. Who’s in control?”

“You are, Mr. Morgan.”  

You felt your pussy throb from the way he was ordering you around. And for a split second, you were doubting yourself that you could handle it. What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he waited for you to fight back? What if he wanted you to be bratty?

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice softer than before, but it was still demanding. His thumb brushed along your shiny lips before continuing. “You’re beautiful. Don’t overthink this.”

Yeah, probably easy for him to say, but you nodded anyway.

“Stick your tongue out. Keep it out.”

You obeyed, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue rest on your chin. He gripped your jaw again, holding you in place. His cock brushed lightly against your tongue, before letting go of your jaw and bringing his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing, as he guided you down his cock. Automatically, your hands shot up to grab onto his thighs.

“Now, if it gets too much, you tap my leg three times, okay?”

You nodded, the movement of your head with his cock in your mouth making him hiss.

“Show me.”

You tapped his thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your chest swelled with pride as he praised you. This was a whole another level of making you feel good, and you’d never guess it would be coming from your best friend’s father. And not only was he making you feel good, but he also gave you confidence, making you slide your mouth around his cock in a more steady rhythm with him still controlling the movements.

It was slow at first, but you felt that he was holding back, so when he went to pull your head back, you overpowered his strength and instead let his cock slide deep into your throat, making you gag while he simultaneously moaned at the unexpected feeling. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva and precum connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as his palm wiped your chin. Well, more like spread the fluids over your lower jaw, before he returned his cock into your mouth and fucked it. He finally let go, hitting your throat over and over again, making you gag and cough around him, up until the point tears started sliding down your cheeks.

You were so close to tapping out, but before you could signal to him, he pulled out and leaned down, grabbing your jaw as he kissed your open mouth, tasting himself on you.

“Get up.”

You stumbled slightly as you got to your feet, your knees weak and sore from being in that position for so long. He didn’t give you a chance to steady yourself, grabbing your hips and spinning you around. Your back hit his chest as he guided you toward the tiled wall.

“Hands on the wall.”

As you did so, his hand trailed down your back, lingering over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp smack that made you gasp, and wow. You’d never have guessed that he’d be such a kinky motherfucker.

It’s not like you hadn’t had a guy slap your ass before, but this was just different. You remember being unable to get turned on when your sexual partner would spank you. You remember thinking maybe there was something wrong with you. It’s not like you didn’t like it or like it made you uncomfortable. You just hadn’t felt anything. It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t sting. It had been like eating plain, salted chips. They taste good, but they don’t really get you excited.

But from Mr. Morgan, it burned, and it was the best feeling in the world. He skimmed his nails against the flesh of your butt, as if tracing the hand-print that was surely forming there. He placed kisses down your back until he was kissing your stinging skin. You shied away as you realized he was now kneeling behind you, but he quickly caught you by the creases where your thigh meets your abdomen, pulling you back to him.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed yet again.

Your heart pounded, the position feeling unnatural, but despite that, you moved your feet apart, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. You flinched as his cold fingers made contact with your pussy, but quickly recovered. He buried his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he slid it from your hole to your clit, pressing down harder as he circled the sensitive bud.

Your whole body vibrated, the blood rushing through your body and into your throbbing clit. He kept flicking it with his finger, occasionally slowing down to pull the hood of your clit back to focus on the most innervated part of you. You arched your back, as he brushed over that spot, making your stomach tighten. Then he finally brought his fingers to your cunt, pushing in one, then two fingers. It made you mewl, the way he was carefully sliding them in and out, enjoying every ridge of your walls. You heard him sigh, feeling his hot breath bouncing off your ass. It made you realize how bad you wanted his mouth on your pussy.

And as if he read your thoughts, his fingers slid out of you and to your clit, as he replaced them with his tongue, flexing it and fucking you with it straight away. He was licking up your walls, the wet muscle prodding against them, making you moan. The finger still worked your clit, but when you felt him open his mouth wide and bury his face even further into your ass to get his tongue as far as he possibly could. It made you see galaxies.

When he felt you twitching against him, already trying to get away, albeit unintentionally, he circled both your thighs with his arm, trapping you against him. You were basically sitting on his face and now that his fingers left your clit, he slid his chin lower, his stubble scratching your skin as the tip of his tongue massaged your clit. His nose was buried in your wet hole now, his cheeks squished by your thighs, and you were scared you were going to suffocate him. Unfortunately, it was his fault and his fault only that you stopped caring as soon as you heard the squelching sounds of your pussy as his tongue kept delving into you. That’s what he did, he made you selfish. He was bringing you closer to the edge and the only thing you cared about was falling.

And with his tongue flicking against your clit, you soon felt the knot in your stomach tightening, until you let go. Your release poured out of you and he was catching it all on his tongue, licking everything up.

Once he got every drop, he stood to his full height, his arms encircling you. I made you feel safe, secured. One of his hands landed on your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he kissed along your neck and then your shoulder, waiting for you to fully come down. You let your head fall backwards against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

He smelled so good. Or maybe it was just the undetectable pheromones spreading through the air that sharpened every sense to its peak. You felt like a mess. Your hands itched to adjust your hair, to wipe at the moisture beading on your flushed skin, but you were too scared to move.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pressed closer, his cock prodding at your cunt.

“Yes.”

And then he finally fucked you. Your back arched instinctively into him as he started thrusting, finding a steady rhythm. His hand slipped lower, tracing the line of your hip before dipping between your thighs again, spreading your pussy and grazing the nail of his finger over your clit. His hips moved harder and harder, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, his moans and your whimpers filled the room, the stream of water coming from the shower making a bad job at obscuring it. He was hitting that spot inside of you over and over again and combined with the sensation of his fingers on your clit and his teeth pressing against your shoulder as he licked the water from your skin made your knees buckle. He was going to leave a faint imprint, that’s for sure.

He was getting close too, or at least you thought so from the way he got louder and more high-pitched, fucking you faster. He wasn’t gentle about it. He wanted you to come hard around him, and it was working. You were getting closer and closer, and when he sank his teeth a little harder into your shoulder, not sure if it was intentional or in the heat of the moment, that name escaped your mouth on its own again.

“Jim–”

And in a snap of a finger, his hand shot up to your mouth, covering it and leaning your head back against his shoulder, his lips ghosting your ear.

“Dexter,” he said, his hand sliding down to your neck and lightly pressing against your throat. Your brain was mush, you didn’t know what he meant, your brows knitting in confusion as you tried to focus on what he just said. “Fucking say it.” He growled when you didn’t react, pinching your clit and giving you a particularly hard and deep thrust as he stopped him movements. 

“Dexter,” you moaned immediately. You just wanted to be good for him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised as he started fucking you again until you were coming around him. It made your whole body convulse. You hinged your hips to press against him and at the same time, to escape his wicked fingers. You brought your hand down to cover his on your pussy, thinking maybe it would bring you relieve from the overstimulation, but it did exactly nothing at all. You kept coming, coating his cock in your cum, making it easier for him to slide along your pussy walls, but harder for him to keep his cock from sliding all the way out. You were so slippery, your cunt clenching around him which brought him to his own edge, finally spilling himself inside of you.

Gradually, he slowed down until he eventually removed his cock from your pussy and freed your sensitive clit from his fingers. He did manage to slide them to your hole one last time, scooping up your mixed cum as he brought his hand in front your faces and admired it, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he rubbed the juices between his fingers. You watched it slowly disappear under the running water before he let his arm fall to your hip, turning you around. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, before opening them again, his eyelashes catching the drops of water from the shower.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in those socks.”

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Your Favorite Flavor - Pt5 Final

modern!aemond x fem!dealer!reader 

Previous Parts

Summary: Super sweet and smutty holiday special to wrap up this mini series.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, smoking, sibling smoke sesh 😶‍🌫️, drugs(weed), bondage, vibrator, spanking, fingering, p in v, unprotected

Authors Note: sorry this took me so long but here’s the last part!!! literally finished this up today sooo happy holidays 💞🫶🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

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You have the perfect idea to welcome Aemond home but a lot of it plans on getting his parents house empty. It’s the holiday season so you’re hoping they’re going to one of their vacation homes to escape the cold. You didn’t necessarily want to text Helaena about your plans but you needed her. 

you: pls tell me you guys aren’t going to be home when Aemond gets done w school 

hel: do i even wanna know? but luckily for you both 🤢 we’ll be out of town 

you: and you’ll leave me a key in exchange for some gifts 😋 

hel: pls just don’t go in my room 🧎🏼‍♀️

you: anything else off limits 

hel: no i just don’t tell me where 🫠 

You drive over to Helaena and smoke with her before handing her a bag of different gifts. She hands you the key and giggles asking what you have planned. By the end of your ideas both of your faces are red as you giggle. You hug her and then make your way back home to finish getting the final touches. 

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Aemonds family left an hour ago and you showed up ten minutes ago ready to clean his room and get it ready. You thank the Gods his mother still upkeeps his room so you don’t have much to clean up. You yank off his sheets and replace them with the red silk ones you ordered. After getting the bed situated you grab the plastic bag with the rest of your things and finish setting up. 

aemond: omw home 

you: helaena left me her key yesterday i’m in bed waiting for you 🤭 

Aemond groans, putting his phone in the passenger seat and giving his car a little more gas. For the next couple of weeks he gets to spend everyday with you. Besides the couple days starting tomorrow when he has to go to his parents. The ride home flies by and he smiles when he pulls into the drive and sees your car. He scrunches his brows when you don’t meet him outside or even at the bottom of the stairs. 

He expected you to be napping or anything but this. His headboard has black silk tied through the slats that wraps around both of your wrists. You have silk tied around your chest in a bow with a matching bow tied over your hips hiding your core. He walks closer to you slowly trailing his fingers up your leg.

“You have to tighten this one. I couldn’t on my own.” you whisper, wiggling your fingers and his hands are at the wrist you mentioned tightening it. 

“Mm I quite like this.” his fingers dance along your skin teasing you with his touch. His fingers grab onto one of the ribbon ends on your chest and he looks at you with a raised brow. You nod at him and he pulls slowly at the silk, groaning as your chest is bared to him. “My very own present.” he hums, kneeling on the bed next to you. He dips down and flicks his tongue against your nipple. 

“Aemond.” you squeak as he takes the peak between his teeth. He continues to suck and nibble as you squeeze your thighs together.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” he kisses across your chest to your other nipple. “So very sweet to me.” you squirm as his fingers trace down your side. He grabs the edge of the ribbon over your hips and it slips off and falls to the bed. He sits up on his bed and looks down at you. “Fuck you’re so perfect.” he stands up and lets his eyes travel over your body. 

“I got some more stuff for you in that bag.” Aemond turns and sees the black plastic bag waiting for him on his desk. He gets up and smiles watching you squirm in his bed. When he grabs the bag he groans finding more silk restraints, a ridiculous amount of oil, and Gods he’s going to have too much fun with this. 

“You won’t be leaving this bed for hours.” he turns to you with dark eyes. Your eyes look at the vibrator in his hand and you nibble your lip squeezing your thighs shut. 

“Open your legs. I won’t hesitate to tie them open.” your breath catches as you slowly open your thighs. He turns the vibrator on and watches your cheeks flush. He presses it to your bud and smiles when you pull on the silk. 

“Aemond,” you moan loudly. He chuckles as you roll your hips while soft gasps greet his ears. He settles between your thighs keeping them open and pressing his lips to yours. A cry comes from you as he turns up the setting. “Aem, yes, I’m gunna,” he watches you with an amused smile as you buck against him and pull against the headboard. 

“Fucking look at you,” he watches you go taut as your pleasure washes through you. He starts to swirl the head against you as you tremble beneath him. “How’s that feel?” he hums watching your chest heave. 

“Good, so good,” your words slurred from pleasure as he starts to kiss down your neck. “Yes, yes please,” your legs wrap around his waist and he grunts as the vibrator presses against his pants. You chuckle hearing his breathing deepen. “You gonna come in your pants again?” you gasp as he pulls back and turns up the speed. “Aem, I-“ you gasp as he chuckles. 

The broken whimpers leaving your mouth are going straight to his cock and he wants to hear more. He starts to circle the head and his name is torn from your throat. The silk tied to his headboard is taut as you arch off his bed. He pushes your legs open more as he slides down to lay between them. He doesn’t pay attention to your babbling as he shoves two fingers into you. He groans when he feels you pulsing around his fingers and with a couple more pumps of his fingers your pleasure is seeping out of you. 

“Please fuck me, please,” you cry and he chuckles turning off the vibrator and tossing it to the side. “Gods Aemond please.” you pull on the silk groaning that you can’t touch him.��

“I was going to until you made that pants comment.” you scrunch your eyebrows and whine at him. 

“I take it back. I’m sorry. Please.” he watches your body shake as pleasure still courses through you. “Aemond please, please,” he smirks watching you try to wrap your legs around him again pulling him towards you. “Aemond please, I’ll do anything.” you whine watching him get off the bed and start tugging his clothes off. 

“I’m sure you will but I don’t think I can be convinced right now.” he hums getting back into bed. You turn your body towards his and he silently chuckles as you pout. “Gods you’re so fucking perfect.” he runs his hand up your side. “But when you open your mouth.” he shakes his head. His eyes widen and he sits up and smiles with an idea.

You watch as he leans over you and grabs the ribbon and hovers over you. He lowers the ribbon to your mouth and tilts his head slightly in question. You lift your head up and he smiles, wrapping it around and tying it into a bow. He leans back and kneels between your legs looking over every inch of you. You squirm when he wraps his fingers around his length and starts to slowly stroke himself. 

“This is what I’m going to think about every night you’re away from me.” you squirm watching him tighten his grip. “Tied to my bed with your mouth shut,” he softly groans as he swipes against his tip. “Pussy crying for me just to reach out and,” he chuckles as your body jolts when his other hand trails up your thighs. “Tell me what you want.” he smirks as your words get lost. 

You look up at Aemond with pleading eyes spreading your legs wider. He watches as you bite the ribbon in your mouth with frustration as he ghosts his thumb up your slit. Whimpers make it past the ribbon as his thumb dips into your wetness just to glide up to your hip. You watch his grip tighten around his length as he watches your writhe on his bed. He groans, unable to take it anymore and leans over to slide into you. He pulls the ribbon from your mouth and smashes his lips to yours. Your wrists tug against the ribbon holding them up and you whine. 

“What is it now?” he pumps into you slowly. 

“I want to touch you.” you whimper as he rolls his hips. 

“Mm, but I just want to sit here and enjoy my present.” he chuckles, snapping his hips into you. “Maybe I’ll try both of my presents at once.” he reaches around the bed searching for the vibrator. 

“Yes,” you nod your head quickly. “Please,” you roll your hips into his. He smiles when his fingers wrap around vibrator and he flicks it on. He hovers it above your bud and watches you buck against him and pull on the ribbon. “Oh Gods Aem, please, please yes,” you whine and he presses the head to your bud. 

“Fuck,” he groans as you pulse around him. Your eyes roll back as you shake beneath him as he continues to push into you. The vibrations push his pleasure over the edge and he spills inside of you. He turns off the vibrator and tosses it once more before collapsing on your chest. “You give the best gifts.” he presses his lips to your skin. 

“Please untie me.” you push your chest into his face. He chuckles and reaches up to pull open the silk. “Thank you, baby almond.” you wrap your arms around him and run your fingers up his back. 

“No, thank you for the perfect present.” he lifts up and presses his lips to yours. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

When Aemond wakes up he panics that you’re not still in his bed. He pulls his sweats on and a smile spreads across his face as he’s halfway down the stairs. Music is coming from the kitchen along with your voice and the sounds of you cooking. The sight of you in one of his shirts could send him to his knees every time. He leans against the doorway watching your relaxed state and begins to make his way over to you. 

“I was wondering how long you would continue to watch me.” you hum as his arms wrap around your waist. 

“I could watch you forever and it wouldn’t be enough.” he mumbles, pressing his lips to the back of your head. 

“Shut up.” you chuckle at his dramatics. 

“I’m serious.” he holds you tighter. 

“Well go sit down and keep watching so I can finish breakfast.” you wave him off with a smile. He presses his lips to yours quickly before walking around and sitting at the counter. 

“I don’t want to go visit my family later.” he sighs, resting his head in his hands. “I want to spend my time with you.” you turn to look at the pout you know is placed on his face. 

“It’s just a couple of days, baby almond.” you hum. “We can Facetime like we normally do.” you begin to plate the food. 

“I don’t want that. Can’t you just come with me?” he doesn’t care about the slight whine in his voice. 

“Mm baby almond,” you coo, setting his food down in front of him. “Why are you so whiny this morning?” you brush your fingers through his hair and he buries his head in your neck. 

“I’m not, I just want to be with you.” he pulls you into his lap and you chuckle. “Please.” his lips press against your neck and your fingers pull his hair. 

“Is this my present?” you smile. “My sweet baby almond.” you hum holding him closer. “Let’s eat breakfast first and we’ll figure it out from there.” you pull back cupping his face. 

“Okay.” he nods, finally letting you go. You both start to eat and he turns to you with a smile. “So we’ll spend the next two nights with my family and then we’ll come home and be with your family?” he says in between bites. 

“Aemond,” you chuckle. 

“I’ll pack for you and drive you. I’ll roll for us every time. You won’t have to do anything.” he nods. “You’ll get to see Hel, you love her. You can smoke with her.” your smile widens at his coaxing. 

“How could I say no to any of that?” you look at him. 

“You’re supposed to say ‘Yes Aemond I’ll come with you because I love you so much.’ and then give me a kiss.” he purses his lips and you study his face wondering if he realizes his words. “Wait fuck, I’m- 

“Yes Aemond I’ll come with you because I love you so much.” you chew on your lip watching his cheeks flush. “This is when you say ‘I love you so much more.’ and not make this awkward.” his eyes snap to yours searching to see if you’re making fun of him. 

“But do you really?” he whispers with a raised brow. 

“I do.” you whisper back. “Do you?” your heart starts to beat faster. 

“I do.” he nods. 

“Then say it.” you feel your face heat. 

“I love you so much more.” he grins and you know your face matches his. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

When you pull into the driveway Helaena opens the front door and waits with a smile plastered on her face. You give Aemond a quick kiss before getting out and leaving him to unpack the car. He smiles watching you run up to Helaena and she tugs you inside. She hauls you upstairs to her room and you chuckle when she slams the door shut behind you both. 

“Gods I was so happy when I found out Aemond was bringing you. I didn’t want to have to hear him whine about you.” you chuckle kicking off your shoes to sprawl across her bed. 

“I want to meet Aemond’s girlfriend.” his brother walks into the room. “Our baby brother got lucky.” he smirks at you. 

“Aegon, get out.” Helaena throws a pillow at him. “And knock next time freak.” he chuckles before leaving the room. 

“I need to like gossip real quick.” you turn to her with a hushed voice. 

“Tell me now.” she scoots in close. 

“He told me he loved me today.” you still can’t believe it. 

“Well of course he does.” she chuckles. “But do you love him?” she raises her eyebrow. 

“I do.” you nod your head and she squeals. “Shh,” you cover her mouth and you both turn when her door is opened once more. 

“For fucks sake can none of you knock?” Helaena sits up and looks at Aemond. 

“You stole my girlfriend.” he walks over to the bed and scoops you up. 

“I’ll sneak you away from him later.” Helaena calls after you with a smirk. He starts carrying you down the hall and you chuckle at his small pout. 

“Aemond,” a woman’s voice calls from downstairs. 

“Gods,” Aemond groans and changes his course. When you both get to the first floor once more he sets you down. “Yes mother?” he grabs your hand and leads you to the living room. 

“Oh my Gods she’s so much cuter than Helaena described.” his mother stands from the couch and pulls you into a hug. “Look at the two of you.” she stands back and coos. “Go stand by the tree right now.” she waves the both of you over and Aemond chuckles, grabbing your hand. 

“Mother-

“Enough,” she smiles, grabbing out her phone and immediately starts snapping pictures. “Smile.” you chuckle looking up at Aemond and he presses his lips to your quickly before turning back to his mother. “Gods you’re both so adorable. Oh Aemond, look at your little blush.” she coos and you bite your lip to hide your laughter.

“Mother please,” he says exasperated. 

“Fine.” she sighs. “Go relax you two and I’ll see you for dinner.” she smiles at her phone flicking through the pictures. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Dinner went well and his entire family loved you. You’ve never seen Aemond blush so profusely and make a note to come to more family dinners. His hand has been squeezing yours for the past ten minutes and once the table is cleared he’s helping you up and tugging you to his room. 

“I can roll, Aemond.” you go to grab the tray out of his hand and he holds it above your head. 

“I said I was rolling for you.” he smirks as you glare up at him. 

“I just thought I’d offer.” you roll your eyes before going to lay on his bed. There’s a quick knock on his door and he groans walking over to it and opening it. 

“Thank the Gods you’re not fucking yet.” Helaena smiles pushing past him and joining you on the bed. “I brought a joint for us.” Aemond watches the both of you giggle and curl up on his bed. He flares his nostrils and goes to shut the door when Aegon's hand stops him. 

“I also come with gifts.” he walks in with a small package of gummies. 

“You two could smoke together and leave us alone.” Aemond looks at his siblings. 

“It’s the holidays, baby brother. Don’t be so grumpy.” Aegon giggles sitting at the desk. 

“She was my friend first. If anyone is smoking alone with her tonight it’s me.” Helaena says from next to you. 

“And where did you two meet?” Aegon waves off Aemond’s sigh. Aemond begins to roll knowing there’s no way he’ll get them out of here. 

“School then she became my dealer.” Helaena hums before lighting the joint. 

“So that���s why you stopped buying from me.” Aegon chuckles before popping a gummy into his mouth and tossing the bag to the both of you. 

“Aemond too. She’s much better than you.” she smiles and passes you the joint. 

“Ouch,” Aegon grabs at his chest playfully. 

“You literally stole back the weed I paid for.” Aemond looks at him with a raised brow. 

“Well you left it at home when you went back to school.” Aegon lulls his head to the side to smile at Aemond. 

“You’re impossible.” Aemond sighs and walks over to you, handing you the blunt. 

“Thank you, baby almond.” you smile up at him before handing him the joint and gummy. His eyes go wide hearing your nickname and Aegon's accompanying snort.

“Baby almond?” Aegon giggles and you watch Aemond clench his jaw. 

“Aegon enough,” Helaena chides with a hint of a smile. 

“I’m sorry.” you whisper up at Aemond. He looks down at you with dark eyes as he continues to hear Aegon chuckle and Helaena attempt and fail at hiding her joining laughter with him. 

“Here.” Aemond reaches his hand out and passes the joint to Aegon. He tosses the gummy into his mouth and joins you on the bed choosing to ignore his siblings. 

“Can you pass this to Helaena, baby almond?” Aegon giggles. 

“At least I have a girlfriend.” Aemond seethes, taking the joint from Aegon. 

“Fair enough.” Aegon shrugs still smirking. “Baby almond.” he bursts into giggles along with Helaena. 

“Aem,” you look up at him and see him looking up at the ceiling. “Aem,” you grab his hand and he looks down at you. You lean into his side hoping he’ll start to relax. You light the blunt and pass it to him and hope the nickname will be forgotten by everyone within a couple minutes. 

“Well if Aemond is going to pout I’m going to put music on.” Helaena sighs and gets up to turn on his speaker. 

“Of course I’m going to pout if you’re going to make fun of me.” Aemond sighs, passing the blunt to Aegon. 

“Gods Aemond, you’re so dramatic.” Helaena comes back to the bed with the joint once the music is on. “I figured her present for you would help you relax.” he looks at you with wide eyes and you fall back onto the bed covering your face. 

“And your girlfriend is equally as dramatic and has good weed. Be happy. Things could be worse.” Aegon chuckles, handing him the blunt back. “Just hold onto that until you chill out.” Aegon reclines back into the chair. 

“Since when do you guys tag team me?” Aemond groans looking between both of them. “And you? Hiding when you started this.” he turns and looks down at you. 

“Me?” you move your hands and look up at him with an open mouth. 

“Don’t give me that look.” he points the blunt at you. 

“So now I have, pouting almond?” you blink up at him and Helaena claps her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter while Aegon lets his sound loudly. 

“Both of you out of the room.” Aemond stands. “Take the joint and blunt with you. I don’t care. Out.” he walks to the door and his siblings stand trying to rein in their laughter. As Aegon walks past he plucks the blunt out of Aemond’s fingers before he snaps the door shut. 

“Aemond I’m-

“Now you can call me Aemond.” he shakes his head, chuckling. “Because you know you’re in trouble.” he grabs your ankle and drags you to the end of the bed. He lifts you up and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Come here.” you walk until you’re standing between his legs. 

“I didn’t mean to.” you push your bottom lip.

“Mm.” he starts to take off your shirt and pants leaving you in your panties before looking up at you. “Over my knees.” you nibble your lip as he helps you bend down. 

“Aem,” you look back at him and his hand lands on your ass. 

“I don’t want to hear it.” he lands his palm on your other cheek. He pulls your panties and you squirm as they press into your center as his hand lands upon your cheek again. He watches your panties become more wet as his hands land on your cheeks. He starts to softly rub at the heated flesh and you turn and look up at him with pleading eyes. “Stand up for me again.” he spanks you one more time pulling a whimper from you. 

“Aemond I’m sorry,” you watch him smirk up at you. “Aem,” he stands and towers above you as he starts to pull off his clothes. 

“Then be a good girl and get on the bed.” you nod quickly. “Face down.” he turns, watching you raise your ass into the air. You hear him discarding his clothes and bite your lip when his fingers ghost across your ass on the sensitive skin. “Bring a pillow to your mouth or my whole family will hear you.” you reach up and bring one down to you. 

Aemond grips your hips, lifting them higher before he begins to spank you again, watching your pleasure leak out of you slowly. He swipes at your wetness and coats its length watching you squirm on his bed. He slowly starts to push into you listening to your muffled noises. He starts to pump into you quickly, watching you scoot against his bed and fist his pillow. His hand lands on your ass again and groans when you flutter around him. 

He leans down over you slowing his movements so he can whisper in your ear. “Next time you call me baby almond in front of someone I’m putting you over my knees on the spot.” he groans as you squeeze around him. “Mm but you might like that. Hm?” he chuckles, snapping his hips into yours as you nod your head into the pillow. “Of course you would.” he lifts back up and spanks you again. “Because you’re so fucking naughty.” his hand lands on your cheek and your pleasure bursts through you. “Fuck,” he groans spilling his pleasure in you. He slowly pulls out and flips you over to look at your heaving chest. 

“Do you still love me?” you nibble your lip. 

“Of course I still love you.” he curls up next to you in bed and holds you closely. 

“And you’ll still love me if I call you baby almond?” you turn your head and look at his smile. 

“I love when you call me baby almond. Just not in front of others.” he presses his lips to your brow. “Though I’m sure now my siblings will call me that exclusively.” he sighs, pulling you closer. 

“So I can call you baby almond in front of them?” you try to hide your smile. 

“Gods I’d let you call me anything you want.” he shakes his head. 

“I love you, baby almond.” you hum letting your eyes shut. 

“I love you too.” his head rests against yours as he starts to drift off. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The rest of the weekend with his family went smoothly and by the time you got back into town to spend the next couple of days with your family you were both relaxed and prepared. Your parents and siblings adored him and invited him back anytime he wanted. You were nervous about this weekend but everything has gone so perfectly you couldn’t have asked for anything better. 

“So this is what holidays will be like for the rest of our lives?” Aemond turns to you on your bed. 

“The rest of our lives?” you smirk. “Someone is thinking far into the future.” you cup his cheek. 

“We’ll graduate soon. Get nice jobs or if you’ll allow me to, I'll just have a nice job and you can stay at home. We'll have our own house. Maybe have a kid or two. Get a dog or a cat.” he looks down at you and takes in your flushed cheeks. 

“I want to get a big fish tank.” he chuckles, holding you closer. 

“That’s the only complaint?” he raises his eyebrows. 

“Not a complaint, just an addition to everything else.” you reach up and kiss him. 

“I can do that for you.” he mumbles against your lips. 

“Thank you, baby almond.” you wrap your arms around him tightly.

“It’s only because I love you so much.” he wraps his arms around you and pulls you on top of him. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

the end of our baby almond series 🥺 thank you for reading this with me and having patience while i took my time finishing it 🫠😅

ur fav flav taglist: @echos-muses @sinistersnakey @uwuuness

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers

[nesepte]

Forbidden Fruit | Na Jaemin (18+)

Pairing: Brother's best friend Jaemin x fem! reader

Genre: sexual tension, angst, mind games, mutual pining, brother’s best friend, jaemin is also a tease, some more tension Warnings: smut (eventual), sexually explicit, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, smoking, pet names (baby, darling), teasing Please don't read if uncomfortable xD Word Count: 2.1k words

Jaemin was handsome. Jaemin was so bloody handsome that it drove you insane. But he was also Mark’s best friend, and as much as you wanted him, he was your brother’s best friend.

Jaemin was also standing right in front of you, leaning against the door frame, his right hand holding the top for support and his left holding his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned till his torso, and his pants were crinkled. His hair was messy and his sighs were heady.

He was drunk. You could smell it.

‘Mark isn’t home,’ you said, hoping he wouldn’t go away.

He looked at you from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at your skirt before looking up.

‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’ You blocked his way. It was too risky. Behind her, on the table was the bottle of wine you had downed a few minutes ago and the flush that was creeping its way up to your face was enough to tell you that he shouldn’t be here, not when you were tipsy and alone.

He scoffed, tilting his head to the side. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’ he mocked, stepping over the threshold.

You had met Jaemin three years ago when Mark had brought his friends home. You knew all of them except him. He was new. He was different. He did not pat your head like you were a kid, nor did he ever treat you like one of the boys. But different isn’t necessarily good and in this case, it was almost torturous.

Those accidental rub of the shoulders, those unintentional graze of your hands, the stolen glances and the lingering gazes. It was nothing, you told yourself, repeating those words over and over in your head every time Jaemin would visit, till you could think of nothing but him.

‘I can go back, if you’d like.’ His voice came out hoarse.

Without a thought, you took a step back, allowing him inside, and the moment he closed the door behind him without your protests, he smirked, spotting the empty wine bottle on the table.

‘Having a party… alone?’

‘Is there something you want?’ you asked, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best you could.

‘Hm…’ He met her eyes.

‘What?’

But he chose to keep quiet.

Stumbling, he made his way to the table and sat himself down, letting his head lean back. ‘Water…’ he groaned, throwing his jacket on the side and unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt.

This is bad. This is bad, you repeated in your mind, keeping your eyes away from his chest. Your hands were shivering and your face had grown hot. You could feel the heat rising inside you and was sure that you weren’t hiding it well.

‘Here.’ You offered him the glass of water and watched him gulp it down, slowly, the droplets dribbling down his bobbing throat to his chest, drenching his shirt where it still made contact with his skin.

‘Are you done gawking?’ he said, with his last gulp.

The question angered you. It was one thing to tease but you didn’t like the insinuation that you were the only one who was holding back. You had seen him watch too. Those lingering gazes weren’t one-sided.

‘I wasn’t,’ you said, defiantly.

‘Sure,’ he scoffed.

‘As if you have never.’

‘Never what?’

‘Gawked at me.’

He liked this. You could see it in his eyes. The little game that he had just set for the both of you and how you had become a player without ever consenting to it.

‘Maybe I have,’ he said, running his fingers through his dark hair that fell over his eyes and groaned, ‘Ah, but you’re his sister. I can’t. We can’t…’

‘Hey, you alright?’

‘Jaemin was barely holding on. This whisky he had had on his way over was finally taking hold. He shook his head and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

‘Mark won’t like it if you smoke here,’ you warned.

‘Mark won’t like a lot of things I have on my mind right now,’ he slurred and lit the cigarette between his lips. Taking painfully slow drags out of the stick, he blew out the smoke that smelled of whisky, letting the ash fall to the ground.

You waited, still. And when he was done, he let go of the cigarette butt and crushed it beneath his boot.

‘No,’ he answered your earlier question.

‘Hm?’

‘I don’t feel alright,’ he said.

‘Oh, do you want water?’ you asked, knowing already that this wasn’t what he wanted but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by folding first.

‘No,’ he replied, his eyes steady on you.

‘Want to lie down?’ you asked and he smirked hearing the hitch in your breath.

‘No,’ he whispered. He had to be patient. You were almost there.

‘What do you want then?’

‘Why don’t you guess?’

‘I am not going to play your games,’ you hissed.

‘Don’t act like you are not enjoying this.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He waited, then sighed. ‘Can you rub my back for me?’ Sometimes, it’s better to take a step back to draw the other one out.

Your fingers twitched and your throat gulped dryly. It was obvious, so damn obvious and you hated how your body was reacting to his words.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Do you not trust yourself?’ he said, spreading his legs for you.

This was it. He had laid the perfect bait. Denying the challenge meant admitting to his accusation. Accepting it, meant torture.

Pressing your lips together, you took a step to him and without hesitation, ran your palm down his broad back.

There was no way you were going down without a fight.

You nudged forward between his legs as you slowly stroked his back. It was your turn to draw him out. There was no hurry, not anymore— you took your time, feeling every inch of his back under your fingers, making sure he knew who was in charge right now. Every brush, every stroke, every touch was intentional, pausing where his body reacted but lingering not more than a second. You were not going to give this to him so easily. The heat from your palms spread over his back like a drop of paint in water. He was leaning into it, sighing when he didn’t want to, groaning when he knew he shouldn’t. You pulled him, dragged him out with every rub, your own breath growing heavy seeing his gleaming eyes drooping, sensing his pulse quickening.

Fuck, what have you done.

His hands found your legs. ‘Hm…’ he mumbled against your stomach, pulling you in.

‘Jaemin,’ you breathed out as his palms found their way upwards. ‘We should stop.’

‘We should,’ he agreed with no intention of stopping.

‘This is wrong.’

‘It is.’

‘Stop it.’

‘You first.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Then don’t,’ he hissed and rose to his feet. This was enough.

He pushed you against the table, an arm holding your waist, the other bracing against the edge.

‘How much have you had to drink?’ he asked against your lips, his warm breath fanning over your face.

‘T-The bottle of wine,’ you whimpered.

‘Just that?’ His voice was desperate, his words strained.

‘Just that,’ you echoed and felt him tighten his grip around you.

‘Do you realize what I want to do?’ He pressed his forehead against you, his hands pulling the fabric of your top.

You nodded.

‘I am your brother’s best friend,’ he reminded you and waited.

‘You are my brother’s best friend,’ you replied, lip quivering against his.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he asked.

You nodded again, your own desperation growing.

‘’No, say it. Do you want me to fuck you?’

‘I want it, Jaemin,’ you almost moaned out. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

‘He grinned against your jaw. ‘Aw, baby, look at you. You sound so pathetic, and I haven’t even started yet.’

This was when you realized how badly you had lost this round.

Shameless as it was, your gaze found his lips, and Jaemin didn’t waste a single second in useless chatter after that. He kissed you, hungry and full, his hand tangled in your hair. And oh, how you melted into him, letting his pull you closer to him.

It was just how you had imagined it countless times before— hot, messy, and desperate. He tasted of whisky and smelled of smoke. It was almost dizzying and you were sure that Jaemin was holding you up. But you inhaled him whole, not wanting to waste a single breath that didn’t pull you closer to him.

He sucked at your lips, nipped and bit when it wasn’t enough, his tongue hot in your mouth. It was almost pathetic how he bucked his hips against you, pressing his bulge, making you moan. He kissed your jaw, his lips trailing down to your neck where he marked you red.

‘Ugh, Jaemin,’ you moaned and he kissed her mouth again as if he had forgotten what it tasted like in the seconds that had passed. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to exist without you.

With a groan, he pulled back and for a moment you thought he was stopping. But when his eyes met yours, you both knew. This was it. But he had to be sure.

‘Baby…’ he whispered breathlessly.

‘Yes, fuck me,’ you cried out.

You couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It was too far away and the walk was too long. Jaemin helped you up the table. Your hand knocked over the wine bottle and somewhere in the distance you heard it shattering to the floor, the remaining wine spilling out from between the shards behind you.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled your underwear down from beneath your skirt.

‘Oh baby, you are so wet for me,’ he panted against your lips, biting it once again as his fingers worked between your folds. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Stop teasing,’ you whined as he rubbed his length along your warmth. It was all too much, too agonizing to bear. ‘Please…’

He pushed his way in, slowly, swallowing your moans into his mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

‘Mhngh…’

He waited but only for a single torturous moment before pulling out and thrusting in again, harder this time.

‘Y-Yes,’ you breathed.

His pants pooled around his ankles, his shirt drooping off his shoulders, he fucked into you again and again, your bodies falling into a rhythm of their own. The sound of your skins slapping against each other echoed in the hollow, your sinful moans marking each thrust as he plunged deeper into you.

‘Do you like me this much, huh?’ He increased his pace as you clutched onto him. ‘Have you been dreaming about me baby?’

You bit onto his shoulder, your nails digging on his sweaty back.

‘Did you picture this every time I came over?’ he teased, holding you by your jaw to make you look at him. ‘Huh baby? Did you imagine me fucking you every time you touched yourself?’

‘Jaemin…’ You weren’t even listening anymore. His arm around you, his chest against yours, his mouth sucking on your neck and his dick thrusting inside you. You were full— full of him, overwhelmed by his scent, consumed by his body. You felt small in front of his desire, yet to him, you looked the prettiest when falling apart in his arms like that.

‘I know,’ he soothed you, still fucking you into the table. ‘I know, darling. God, I have dreamed about fucking you too. You have no idea how many wretched nights I have spent touching myself thinking about you.’

‘Hm, right there, y-yes, don’t stop…’

‘Oh, don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop till I make you come.’

You threw your head back, the knot inside you threatening to unravel. You screamed his name as you clenched around him, making him groan and bite your shoulder. But he held onto you as you squirmed in his arms from your release.

‘Yes, baby, so beautiful,’ he grunted, his eyes glazed over from watching you come undone like that. He was still thrusting inside you, his own rhythm becoming sloppier and with a final clench, he pulled out, spilling his white onto your thigh.

You stayed still, foreheads pressed, panting into each other’s mouths, your hands refusing to let go of the other. There was a distant knock, probably a doorbell— you two couldn’t tell.

You looked up at him. He was already smiling, or was it a smirk. ‘Mark is going to kill you,’ you reminded him.

‘Small price to fuck you,’ he replied.

[dreamingmappist]

For next year I got another regular weekly/monthly planner (mostly coz it’s free from work) that I would put bullet point tasks in and a blank notebook that’s not really going to be a bullet journal but does have tracker spreads (period, some money stuff, reading and watching logs).

Having One notebook for everything can be good if you’re the type who feels scattered. But I am enjoying having multiple notebooks and journal spaces with different purposes. (Including things like nature journaling, commonplace diary, media log, drawing from life)

Having a dedicated productivity system is good if you need a structure in your life—I imagine it works very well for freelancers or business owners. But I also kind of stopped looking at productivity as something to aspire to. I want to get my tasks done and then do more creative things as a hobby. You could say I’m scaling back on my ambitions and you would be right. I’d like to focus on being present, trying new things, getting healthy, loving people and having fun. Some of these are quantifiable. But when we quantify some human behaviour it kind of has us focusing on numbers instead of quality of life.

My point being that the og bullet journal method is definitely worth looking into but it won’t necessarily be what works for you. With or without the pretty. Also I respect the people who took this bare bones system and demonstrated how it can fit in their very different lives. You can still learn things from either version of it. A little mindfulness, a little organizational skills.

Still reeling from the realization that bullet journaling was essentially created to be a disability aid and got legit fuckin gentrified

[mumms-the-word]

Since you're the gale enthusiast does his orb in the ending where you let the crown be lost to the river/sea still light up when he and tav engage in sex? :3

Hello!! What a fun question!

Although I wouldn’t say I’m THE Gale enthusiast (because oh boy have you seen some of the amazing creatives on this site?? have you seen the headcanons and imagines and fics of people like @dekariosclan and @senualothbrok and @an-excellent-choice?? run don't walk over to their blogs haha) BUT...I do think a proportionally high amount about Gale’s condition and orb lol

and also I still have parts 2 and 3 of my long essay discussing the orb-as-disability/chronic condition still in my drafts so um...oops haha

Anyway here’s what I think! Under the cut for length, and note, we'll be tossing together some lore and headcanons here!

I think you can have it either way! The orb itself seems to react to magic and neglect in the game and he can also trigger the glow at will. In other words, we see it when it flares up after being neglected (i.e., when it pains him), when he absorbs a magic item to feed it, and occasionally when himself triggers the orb (to show you its hunger, or in a darker turn, to trigger the explosion).

It’s a fandom addition that the orb glows during periods of high emotion/stress/desire, but it’s a good headcanon! It makes sense logically in the game. If the orb's glow is triggered by hunger, desperation, etc, why not other emotions?

(And, side note, it’s been a minute since I’ve played BG3 so I could be neglecting to remember a scene where emotion does trigger the glow, and if so that’s my bad!)

Anyway, one of the things that triggers the glow is hunger. Hunger for magic and power, usually. But desire is a kind of hunger too, especially carnal desire. So does the orb glow during sex? Probably! Other people have explored this at length and there are some very fun headcanons about it floating around.

Does the orb glow during sex after Gale has tossed the Crown of Karsus aside and learned to manage his hunger/desires? That’s a more interesting question.

Again, it could go either way. In certain dialogue at the docks scene, Gale says he’ll have to keep feeding the orb eventually. He treats it like it’ll be a lifelong chronic condition. So if the orb lit up before during sex, it certainly will continue to light up post-Netherbrain!

Gale: Perhaps that’s the best place for it. Away from the meddling of mortals and Mystra alike. It’s not exactly the outcome Elminster hoped I would achieve, but it’s the best I could do with the time his charm bought for me. I feel the faintest prickling of hunger from the orb already. It will not remain under the sway of his spell forever.

But when you get to his little post-docks bedroom scene, the one where he proposes, he says the orb has changed. It seems to have calmed, though he isn’t totally sure of the effects or limitations yet. Mind you, this is romance-only, so does a romance help quell the orb's hunger better than friendships or Gale going about on his own? Possibly!

Tav: You seem very relaxed. The orb isn’t on the verge of exploding yet then? Gale: It’s strange. I woke up this morning and realised the orb feels different. No clamour, no desperation, no hunger. I hesitate to say if, but I think it’s…satisfied. I’ll need to keep a careful study of it, make sure it’s not suddenly destabilized by proximity to a rogue pair of Netherese sandals, mind you, but I think it’s dormant. That’s a worry I can leave behind me, at least. Tav: was it Mystra’s doing? Gale: It could be. Or perhaps the orb’s hunger was fueled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

It sounds like the orb is dormant, which would suggest no glow. But it's not settled, necessarily, either since Gale suspects it could still flare up. The more important thing is that it's not volatile.

He also says in the epilogue, if you toss the Crown, that Mystra reassures him that the orb won't bother him again. This is if you're friends with Gale, rather than romancing him:

Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful just to be 'Gale' for the evening. I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. She sought me out, not long after we went our separate ways, and assured me neither she nor the orb should pose me any threat in the future. Of course, it's still in there. A constant reminder of my former hubris, and a surprisingly effective means of keeping my more disobedient students in line. Perhaps a tad too effective.

So, after all that…does it still glow?

It’s up to you to decide! I think it’s fun imagining Gale intentionally lighting up his orb when his students get too rowdy just to watch the sudden hush it puts over the classroom. I think it’s fun imagining that the orb still glows when he gets excited, angry, horny, or even (sadly) stressed. I think that falls in line with details in the game.

And even though it’s dormant, that doesn’t mean the glow has to stop. One, you can headcanon whatever you want haha but if you feel like the lore should support it, just think of it this way: the orb is no longer volatile and in search of arcane power and magic. But it’s still lodged right there over his heart, it’s still very in tune with his emotions (probably). And he says it’s possible to be orb was fueled by his own hunger, and that his current contentment is what keeps it calm as well.

So if, say, he were to experience another type of hunger (for example, “oh my Mystra if I don’t take my lover over this desk right now I will combust” types of hunger) then I’m sure the orb does glow!

Therefore, yes, if he still has the orb in his chest I think it very much still glows during sex.

Hope that answers your question! Thanks for the ask 🥰

[sepublic]

My hot take is that Pilot Gus has been a thing since the pitch bible, it’s just that he’s the character who’s gone through the most revisions in terms of aesthetic;

He’s Tibbles. Or Tibbles was him. They’re small nerdy friends of Luz who stand out as having an interest in human realm stuff. One of the pitched episode concepts was Tibbles and Eda attempting to throw Luz a human party only for their misunderstanding of human culture to lead to chaos, which is perfectly in line with canon Gus clearly not knowing what he’s talking about but meaning it in full earnest. Tibbles and Paulina AKA Pilot Willow are even on the same page together, and Willow and Gus are a classic duo.

After all, look at Hunter! William is a very different character, with a different name and appearance, different personality/vibes, and a different backstory. Yet there are a lot of recurring elements between both versions of the character that you can’t deny Hunter is William after having gone through multiple revisions.

In the end, it’s clear that the writers took the character of Tibbles and just made him a “human” kid, and then expanded on his character from there. It’s possible they just came to this conclusion on their own. It could be a result of Disney pushing the Hexside angle, so the writers converted Tibbles into another peer for Luz, rather than making a new character. Him being a witch student also allowed the writers to expand on one of the nine coven magics as well! And I wouldn’t be surprised if executives pushed for the revised Tibbles to look human for relatability.

But the writers were obviously attached to the concept of a porcine demon named Tibbles, so they retained him but with a radically different personality to fulfill a separate niche of minor antagonist they’d drafted for some other episodes. Even in canon, Tibbles still retains a connection to human artifacts, albeit much more incidental to his character and out of utilitarian, economic interests; He scavenged human trash and briefly sold The Good Witch Azura books, only to give up once Amity proved to be the only buyer. Which hilariously makes Tibbles a contributor towards Lumity.

Dang I want to imagine a plot where Gus and Tibbles interact directly (after acknowledging how Gus became unintended yet accepted collateral for revenge in Really Small Problems) and the show gets really meta about how they’re two halves of the same character, albeit with Gus clearly being the more “whole” of the two. It’s a story that works without the BTS knowledge but with it, it makes the whole bit feel enriched.

Obviously it’d be a plot about the Gus and Tibbles having similarities in their shared connection to human garbage, and maybe their respective dynamics with Eda. Possibly discussing/exploring the motives for their interest, which could get into Gus’ motives and how he fell in love with human culture. In fact if Eda wasn’t necessarily the source of Gus’ first exposure, it could’ve damn well been Tibbles!

And since it’s Tibbles, Gus doesn’t really bond with him (esp if like Amity, Gus got it from Tibbles indirectly) and that’s why he’s fairly lonely by the time S1 rolls around, and he’s more impressed by Eda instead. It explains how Gus knows about human stuff, but doesn’t have a particular connection to Eda until they interact through Luz. Tibbles and Eda have a minor rivalry going along as black market potions sellers who have human garbage as a side gig, so it feels appropriate.

As does Tibbles also having a connection with Mattholomule over this human garbage they’re intentionally misrepresenting, which… Jeez, does this provide a backdrop to Mattholomule usurping the HAS with fake human artifacts???? Huh. I guess Tibbles is a contributor to Gustholomule as well. He’s surprisingly connected but I guess that makes sense when this guy was supposed to be a lot more involved before Gus took his place, or rather Tibbles became Gus. It’s weird.

What’d really sell the connection is Gus having a pig palisman, but a chameleon is more relevant when it comes to the final canon. And what’d make things insane is if Gus and Tibbles look at their family trees and realize they stem from a common ancestor, the implicit Tibbles the First, as Tibbles being the Third indicates. Tibblet-Tibblie Grimm Hammer I looks just like the pitch bible… All of this could be the basis for Tibbles to turn around and explain why he was invited to Luz’s Quincenera years later.

[evelinessa]

I decided to answer all of these! If you're interested in any of my answers, you can see them below! 🥰

1. How many fics have you worked on since January?

Five works published in total. Three were oneshots, two were ongoing fics that I posted chapters for. Five published chapters in total for those aforementioned works (1 chapter for a fic I started posting for last year; 4 chapters posted for a fic I started posting for this year). One work with a finished, abridged version written, but unpublished (for a zine). I will likely finish the extended version and post to AO3 sometime next year.

As far as for the number of WIPs… I haven't kept track. I've started and worked on so many WIPs this year. At least dozens, I'd say. Aside from a few, I haven't necessarily made much progress on them, but I still worked on them, even if it was just spending a few minutes to plan or jot down more ideas.

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

Working on and starting to publish a longfic (In Another Life), if that counts. Though when I committed to starting to post it, the plan hadn't grown to longfic scope yet, so that was kinda accidental. Planning that fic (which I'm still doing), requires very extensive plotting beyond what I've done for anything else. I even invested in a plotting software just to make it a bit more manageable.

Another new thing I tried was in A Show of (Im)perfection, where I worked hard to make sure the scene transitions from when I go into a flashback and back to the present feel as seamless as possible, making the jump less jarring. This is usually from the character looking at or doing something in the past/present that continues or is followed up by something similar in the next scene (past or present).

One more possible new thing is that I spent more time in a dream/nightmare segment (A Demon's Justice chapter 4, WIP) and played around with the illogical nature of that/some symbolism. While I have written glimpses/short parts of dreams/nightmares before, it was the first time I did something longer and more continuous.

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I pretty much exclusively write for Ace Attorney, so that.

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

One: Ace Attorney.

5. What ships captured your heart?

It's always Mitsunaru/Narumitsu. My OTP out of any media. I'll always love them and want to create stories with them.

6. What characters captured your heart?

By extension of mainly writing my OTP, it would be the characters of the ship: Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth. Phoenix got to be the POV character of most of what I wrote this year, though Miles still had a turn. Miles is my absolute favorite character, so he captured my heart even if I wrote his POV less this year. I also got to write another fic from Trucy's POV, so she got to have some of the spotlight as well.

7. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

Nope. Technically, I did start planning a WIP for a ship I haven't written before as part of a group project, but I haven't started actually writing it.

8. What fic meant the most to you to write?

It's still a WIP and not published yet, but probably The Last Day of Summer. It's a slice of life kidfic (featuring the Signal Samurai Trio) that is part one of a Narumitsu series centering around a park by the courthouse.

I love slice of life and I love fluffy kidfic. I get pretty self-indulgent and usually have a lot of fun writing it. The reason this WIP means so much to me though, is because it's something that has been in the works since around May 2021. It's also one of two story ideas I had about a year before I even started writing (both originated as comic ideas). I had already adapted the first of the two into a fic (Keeping Up Appearances) a long time ago, but this one I'm still working on. It has expanded and changed a lot since it was first conceptualized as a comic, and even when it was first outlined as a story.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

The Last Day of Summer (still a WIP), for the same reasons stated in the previous question.

10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I don't have many options, but probably (Just) A Haircut. It originally started as a fill for a prompt on Discord back in late 2022. I was motivated to expand and finish it for Narumitsu Week. I think it's satisfying to finally finish something that was started so long ago.

The fic I wrote for that previously mentioned zine was also originally inspired by a Discord conversation around the same time in 2022 (and also was greatly expanded during the writing process). I think that one is less satisfying for me since I still have to write the extended version at some point. So even though there is a finished version, it isn't truly finished for me.

11. What fic was the most difficult to write?

Possibly In Another Life, since the scope and how ambitious it is has been giving me trouble with plotting everything (and still not nearly done with the planning), even if the writing itself hasn't been particularly difficult (aside from the description-heavy scenes). Or it's the fic I wrote for that zine, as writing smut is incredibly difficult and stressful for me (plus it takes me forever to write).

12. What fic was the easiest to write?

Probably Where We Lay. I think I went from first thinking of the idea to being completely finished in a little over a week, all while forcing through the worst writer's block I've had. Unless something is only a few hundred words, I'm never able to write a fic (from first coming up with the idea to completion) in that short of a time frame, even in better circumstances than I was in.

13. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Shortest: Where We Lay at 2k.

Longest: In Another Life at 20.5k and 4/24 (but will likely have more chapters in the end) chapters posted.

14. What were your go-to writing songs?

I usually don't listen to anything while writing. I've sometimes listened to the AA orchestra CDs or the piano/some other remix ones, but I haven't done that in a long time. I think I've listened to a few songs with lyrics (especially on one of my fic playlists), but haven't done it enough to specify any go-to writing songs.

15. What was the hardest fic to title?

I don't have many options to choose from, but the one that took me the longest/was the most difficult was probably A Show of (Im)perfection. Where We Lay took me a bit too, but I don't think it took as long/was as difficult as A Show of (Im)perfection.

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

My favorite is probably A Demon's Justice, but since I technically didn't title that one this year, I'll go with In Another Life instead. I mean, I technically didn't title that one this year either (had a much smaller version of this fic planned & titled since at least 2023), but it at least was posted this year.

17. Share your favorite opening line

Not sure if it counts since the first chapter was published last year, but the opening line for A Demon's Justice:

The trial’s climax fast approached, and the scales of justice were tilted in his favor—as expected.

I feel like that one is the most gripping compared to the first lines of my other published fics this year, or known first lines to WIPs I worked on this year.

18. Share your favorite ending line

It's A Demon's Justice again. While it's not the last line of the entire fic, it's the final line of the most recently published chapter (chapter 3) which was posted earlier this year:

And so, he found solace in one simple truth: Miles was exactly where he deserved to be.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

I love dialogue! Not sure how short it should be to consider it a piece, but I've been quite fond of this exchange (from In Another Life chapter 2) ever since I wrote it. Here's the whole scene (it isn't too long):

20. Share your funniest line

Honestly, I don't really consider my stuff funny (humor isn't one of my strong points), but I do occasionally write lines/situations and banter that I find a bit humorous, or at least entertaining. It's also usually not a single line, since most of the humorous stuff I write happens in banter.

Several of Miles and Larry's interactions in my no DL-6, college AU WIP fic (where the Signal Samurai trio play Never Have I Ever together and get drunk) fit in that category. But YMMV on whether you find any humor in it or not. I would class it as more entertaining/amusing rather than funny, really.

I included several notable moments in this fic so far, especially since some build off each other (there are gaps between each screenshot with omitted text). This was just how Miles and Larry wanted to interact with each other in this fic. Miles and Larry kept wanting to argue (lightheartedly) and it was all unplanned. I had to keep reining the dialogue/direction of the fic back on track, because they would get into it with each other every so often and sidetrack the plot lol. One of the moments where I feel the characters are more in control than I am😂.

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

Something for this year? I guess the biggest would be deciding to add a subplot/an additional POV (Miles') to In Another Life. It's the main reason I'm still heavily involved in planning that fic before I write more. The entire fic was originally planned without having access to Miles' POV in mind (including everything written and published so far).

It changes the story quite a lot, but at the same time, not too much. It's important for me to keep (or only minorly change) all my original planned plot points, especially the major ones and the planned ending/direction of the story. I want to stay true to my original vision as much as possible, while still taking advantage of what I can do with an additional subplot and POV.

I can explore characters and relationships that otherwise wouldn't be touched on much or at all (elevating at least one character from cameo to supporting character status). It also gives me more plot moments to work with and help spread out the relationship moments and bulk up the timeline. It also gave me more ideas for relationship moments, which definitely helps as I'm still trying to think of more romance and bonding moments to write.

The negative is it does impact some plot points and I have to think about how to still have them work well. I've also thought of so much for that subplot, that it feels less like a C plot and closer to an A plot, so I might have to think of stuff to add to bulk up my actual A plot.

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

Scrivener mostly, as it's my main writing program. I've also used Google Docs a little, particularly when I was editing down and finishing what I wrote for that zine fic. I always do my final editing in Word, since the grammar/spellcheck is not as good in Google Docs and pretty much nonexistent in Scrivener. Also, I write into a private Discord server at times when I get some ideas I want to write down, as it's quicker and easier than opening Scrivener (I move it there later) and I can do it on the go. I've written a bit into Dropbox's text editor, as that is the workaround to access my Scrivener files on my Android phone. While I've written by hand before, I don't recall writing any fic by hand this year.

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

This is such a hard question, because I don't feel like there is something that really sticks out to me, especially not something that I haven't mentioned in the answer to another question.

This might not be what the question is asking, exactly, but there is one writing-related thing that sticks out to me.

Without going into details, someone had reached out to me to tell me that something I'd written had resonated with them and reading the story had given them some comfort during a difficult time. I was—and still am—touched that something I wrote was able to help someone and provide some measure of relief, even if temporary. I wish them well.

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Not really. Mostly just relax and do something not related to writing for a bit. Sometimes I hold off on a treat or doing something else I want to do when I'm trying to finish something (mostly when I'm up against a deadline). If that's the case, then I can allow myself to enjoy it once I'm finished. Mainly, I just allow myself to enjoy the sense of accomplishment of finishing a story, as well as the dopamine hit from getting to share it and having other people read it/share their thoughts.

25. How did you recharge between fics?

Nothing specific, just relaxing/doing something unrelated to writing that I enjoy. Spending that time completely guilt free and without thinking about how I should be writing instead. This is especially the case if I finished writing something for a deadline (likely very close to the deadline), since I procrastinate a lot.

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Yes! I completed one drawing (of Ema Skye), but it isn't posted anywhere (aside from in a couple Discord servers). That was after not really drawing anything for years. I want to do more, but I've gotten wrapped up into my writing and other things instead.

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

One fic for the Narumitsu Big Bang 2024 (my first bang event), one fic for the Narumitsu ship week, one fic as part of a gift event for a friend's birthday, and two fics for zines. I also tried to take part in the Supernatural Mitsunaru Exchange & Fest 2024, but had to drop out, unfortunately.

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

Anyone who read my works this year, anyone who left a kudos and especially a comment. Anyone who told me (whether on AO3, Discord, or on social media) that they liked something I've written. It's always encouraging to know that stories I've created have been enjoyed by others.

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Unless I surprise myself by coming up with and writing a very short fic idea, or making a lot of progress on one of my short WIPs, I don't plan, or expect, to have anything else finished or published this year.

I'd like to write at least a little more and make some progress on my WIPs, but I've been taking a bit of a break these last few weeks, so there's a chance I might not write anything else before the year ends.

30. What would you like to write next year?

Not sure about anything specific, but I'd generally like to work more on my existing WIPs. I'd love to finish and post the remaining chapters of A Demon's Justice. I'd also love to finally finish and post the first part of The Park by the Courthouse series, The Last Day of Summer, considering how I've been chipping away at it for years, and it's one of the first story ideas I had (before I even started writing fanfic).

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[wayrad]

idk if we have any clegan mob au’s???

i feel like buck would be the kind of mob boss that really leads a gang that’s more of a family. like they don’t follow him out of fear but out of real blood-thick loyalty. cus buck is a smart and strong leader, he isn’t necessarily nice but he’s good; quick as a whip and absolutely lethal when he has to be. he’s always dressed to the nines in dark tailored suits and coiffed hair (picture austin during elvis era w black hair fuck yea) wearing little sunglasses and smoking cubans. I feel like everyone would kinda be lusting over him but he makes it a rule not to fuck around with his underlings, so no one really knows what buck likes cause he’s never seen with any men or women. or so people think… enter bucky omg this man is like. lowkey nicknamed mad dog with the way he’s at buck’s heels, always standing by the door or at the side of buck’s desk when meeting with business partners (and adversaries), just ready for something to go wrong so he can get some action. he’s absolutely brutal, all brass knuckles and split lips, pummelling poor guys into the ground until buck orders him to “lay it off, bucky.” basically buck says jump bucky asks how high. and dude the SEX oh holy mother of god. no one really knows but they know: bucky is all service top giving gale everything he asks for, fucking him nice and good and not coming until buck tells him he can. he’s a good dog after all. maybe at one point someone kidnaps bucky to get back at buck and he kills like half their gang to get him back lol john wick style. and then they fuck nasty blood still everywhere ofc

[swanimagines]

Hello! So I've been reading a lot of your works *cough* mainly Kaz and Pin *cough* and I was wondering if I could request one? If so, A6 from your dialogue prompt list with Kaz Brekker. Have a great day <3

Prompt: A6. “Ugh, people are so weird.”

A/N: I still can't look at him without remembering I actually have HUGGED that man and I get to do it once more in two months I-

RUMOUR TOLD ME

Ketterdam, in its darkness and grimness, was the last place Kaz would expect to find someone like you. You, a cheery, warm person who believed all people were good unless proven otherwise. And even working with the Dregs hadn’t wiped that attitude off you, which had always puzzled Kaz. And maybe it was the way you always saw the good in everyone was what made him develop feelings for you. Or rather, as he convinced himself, he was maybe slightly interested, but not necessarily romantically.

Either way, he treated you like he had always treated you, as another Crow, and he thought everyone else thought so too. And maybe that’s why it was so shocking when you came to the Slat one day, laughing as you slid to sit at the bar counter, one stool away from Kaz.

He stared at you for a moment, and you locked eyes with him. “I just heard the funniest thing.”

“Can’t wait to hear it,” Kaz mumbled, glancing at the barkeeper who immediately started preparing a drink for him.

“There’s a rumour circling around that Kaz Brekker has a crush,” you snickered, and Kaz immediately froze. “And the crush being me. Ugh, people are so weird.”

A short silence descended upon you, and your giggling echoed in Kaz’s mind.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Get it together, Brekker.

“And you find it funny?” Kaz grumbled, which earned a frown from you.

“Well, we are complete opposites. I mean, I guess people who sent this rumour going are probably avid romance novel readers whose favourite trope is ‘opposites attract’ but I have no idea what kind of drink they took to get themselves so drunk that they spun out this kind of theory.” You shrugged, gesturing to the barkeeper to prepare a drink for you too.

Kaz scowled. “Those kinds of rumours should be cut off before they have a chance to fly.”

You laughed. “Oh come on Kaz, it’s just some children spinning stories for their entertainment, it won’t hurt anyone.”

Kaz almost barked at you, telling you that children of Ketterdam should know better than joke with things like that before someone teaches them what it’s like to lose the fun in their life forever, but he held himself back. His mind momentarily filled with pictures of what could happen if the wrong kind of people found out about that rumour and believed it. You’d disappear and eventually come back to the Slat, carried by Matthias, with a knife in your heart, your body already cold, eyes open, beginning to rotten, your mouth opened in an eternal scream–

Kaz shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about that scenario. 

“Rumours are dangerous,” he said, leaning towards you slightly. “Even ridiculous ones.”

You scoffed, waving your hand. “I know, but no one is going to believe something like that.”

Kaz withdrew, taking his cane and gripping the silver crow head. He wanted to tell you you’re off duty for a while. He wanted to claim he needed help in office work, which would bind you into Slat for a few weeks. He wanted to find whoever is spreading this rumour and warn them off, threaten them. Maybe even break their legs to ensure they won’t sing about it.

But even if that would work, and Kaz knew it would, it could be a sign that the rumour actually had truth to it. It would make him look weak, even if that person would never tell about his visit.

You got the drink and downed it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, before you looked at Kaz again. “Do you have any tasks for me? If not, Inej said she’d like to have company when she goes to run an errand but if you have something more important to do, I’ll pass on that.”

Kaz clenched his jaw, staring at his still full glass of kvas. “No.” Be careful.

You nodded and disappeared to the crowd, and Kaz told himself to not look at you walking away. And as soon as your steps faded, he downed the drink and stood up, making his way to the attic. He needed to take his mind off of… this, whatever it was.

But of course, on his way, he came across Jesper waiting by Wylan’s door, spinning his other revolver. Kaz already saw from Jesper’s grin what he was going to say, that he had also heard the rumours. “Hey, Boss. Word is you’ve got a crush on our Sunshine the Second.”

Kaz cocked an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think that?”

Jesper stopped spinning his revolver and shrugged. “Well. It’s been obvious for all of us for a while. I suspected it, so I told Nina, and she listened to your heartbeat while our star Sunshine was around, and–”

“And nothing,” Kaz barked. “Whatever you have heard or understood, is not true.”

Jesper cackled, and Kaz wanted nothing more than to stuff the handle of Jesper’s beloved revolver into his throat at that moment. But it was more because he realised everyone knew. His Crows, at least, knew.

When Jesper stopped cackling, his tone was more serious. “But hey, I understand that this… thing isn’t a good thing to be circling around. If you want some of us to go uh, find out who put the rumour to circle in the first place, just tell us.” He winked. “And of course, no telling your beloved.”

Kaz thought, staring at Jesper. He wanted to keep denying it, tell Jesper everyone are idiots, doubt Nina’s skills as a heartrender. But he knew that nothing would work anymore, everything would just confirm their every suspicion, those that were true and those that were not true.

So he nodded. “Deal with it. Quietly.”

Jesper nodded in return. “Always, boss.”

And when Kaz continued ascending the steps, he could almost hear Jesper’s grin. If there had been some doubt in Jesper’s mind, now there most definitely wasn’t.

Kaz knew that his Crows knowing except for you was miles better than the whole Ketterdam knowing. If everyone knew, or if such suspicions would rise to any extent, they would inevitably eventually go straight to rivaling gangs. And at that point, depending on how stupid they were, they could follow the rumour just in case and ambush you.

They would be stupid because if you were killed by a gang, Kaz wouldn’t rest before each one’s guts had painted every wall of their past territory, but they would also be smart because they’d take away the one thing Kaz truly cared about in this world, and it would be the second time around. Kaz wasn’t sure if he would ever recover, which would potentially make him weak in a way, maybe even suicidal with his hunger for bloodshed. He could be the most feared person in all of Kerch for a few weeks, but constantly throwing himself in situations he could get killed would eventually kill him. It could even be his goal, to die fighting and take as many of his enemies with him before that.

But after those little gossipers would be getting caught and warned off, things would maybe become better, and Kaz would be able to forget about this whole mess.

---

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[writergeekrhw]

There's a Reddit screenshot going around (including here on Tumblr, Wil Wheaton reblogged a post about it) where a Trump supporter got whiny that at the Vegas convention this year, a couple of the Voyager actors were asked about their political beliefs by a fan, and they answered by praising Kamala Harris and condemning Trump and Trump supporters. This person on Reddit (not the same person who asked the politics question at the con) was upset because they felt they and their friends "learned that 7 of 9 hates them" and they were roundly made fun of for expecting that a Star Trek convention wouldn't contain anything that contradicts their MAGA beliefs given that, you know, it's such a progressive show where the future is LITERALLY luxury space communism, and where it has always spoken in favor of diversity.

This led to a bigger discussion about the place of politics in fandom spaces. I personally would understand not talking about electoral politics if we were in a normal election, like Obama vs. Romney, even though the Republicans even then advocated a lot of things that I think is at odds with what Star Trek says. But I don't think people who voted for them were necessarily hateful. I don't think they are people I can't share fandom with, you know? We can be friends. But I think with Trump people are hateful, or at the very least they're okay with hate, given how often he spews it and encourages it in his supporters. I'm a lesbian and I absolutely do feel less safe around people who wear MAGA hats in a way I just didn't around Romney or McCain or Bush supporters. My opinion personally is that it's probably a mistake and what got us to where we are today (sending this in late September 2024, where Harris is slightly up in the polls but it's still very close and Republicans are trying to ratfuck the vote in a bunch of swing states - maybe by the time you answer, the election will be over and we'll know?) that we didn't do enough to recognize that Trump support is either bigotry, or support for bigotry, in a way that should be socially unacceptable and treated as such. That we should have deployed more social shaming over it, especially in places that should be understood to be safe spaces for diverse groups of people, like the fandom of a series like Star Trek.

I was wondering what you thought about this topic. Personally, while I don't think American electoral politics need to be in every aspect of a convention, finding out that actors who played characters I like, writers who wrote shows I love, etc. are supportive of my basic civil rights, not just in broad platitudes but also in how they vote, is really heartening and makes me feel more "welcomed" in fandom. It makes me feel safer there. And the fact that Trump supporters feel excluded also makes it a safer space IMO, because I don't feel safe around those people. I have Republican friends - but none of them who have voted for Trump.

I commented on that while I was still on Xitter. I honestly worry Trump may pose an existential threat to our democracy. I think others feel similarly. I suspect Jeri Ryan, who's seen the rot inside the GOP firsthand, has particularly strong feelings about that as well. So it's no surprise she chose to speak out before the election. And it's certainly her right.

I think it's a bit silly for fans of a franchise that has a strong progressive POV to feel alienated when the artists involved in said franchise embrace its philosophy and choose to take a stand for it.

I worry for us all over the next four years, but the voters have spoken. We'll see how it goes.

[vi-is-badass]

Oh absolutely. If I could add one scene to act 1 it would definitely be a scene that explores the strike team’s decision to use the grey, especially Vi’s decision since she’s the one using it on her people. That felt like a bit of a glaring omission to me. I was simply stating that it wasn’t necessarily ooc for Vi to agree to use it.

The lack of exploration or consequences for using the grey was an odd choice to me, especially considering how villainous the use of it was framed in act 1.

They made the first sighting of the strike team in Zaun look like a something out of a horror movie.

They even had a moment where Ambessa used the hypocrisy of topside against them, feigning sympathy for this young boy’s condition from Jinx turning the grey back on topside to spur the piltovans and Caitlyn into action and get the foothold she desired.

So I really thought the use of the grey was going to come back around and help force Caitlyn to see the hypocrisy of her actions.

It’s one of the biggest weaknesses of Caitlyn’s half of act 2 for me because Caitlyn’s eventual turn against Ambessa is framed more by her growing distrust of the warlord instead of confronting the fact that she’s become the exact corruption she swore to fight against. (It’s kind of implied in scenes she has with Singed but it never feels like it fully commits)

Act 3 course corrects a bit but it still only has Vi pissed at Caitlyn for willingly going along with Ambessa rather than Caitlyn’s actions against Zaun.

I can’t totally tell if that’s me expecting something the show was never going to follow up on or if it’s truly something the show fumbled in some respect because like you on a personal level I am definitely against the use of the grey.

Caitlyn and Vi weaponizing toxic air pollution against the undercity and then Jinx and Sevika using Janna’s temple to recreate her legendary miracle by blowing that toxic air back onto Piltover.

Jinx (and Sevika) just became the hero Zaun needs.