#COME ON THIS IS OUR AREA OF EXPERTISE

[boneblushed]

Ignorance by infatuation

synopsis A detective behaves lewdly with you. Aaron Hotchner gets uncharacteristically jealous.

wc 1.7k

a/n omg my first Hotch fic ever hehe 🤭 feedback and love always appreciated, still trying to find my Crim Minds voice!

It’s 8 o’clock in the morning, the air sultry and verdant, rain soaked leaves underfoot. 

Aaron Hotchner frowns. Petrichor and dew mean evidence awash. He pauses to squint up at the sky, muddy grey with isolated streaks of yellow dawn.

You’re acutely aware of Spencer’s eyes on you as you walk past Hotch, and give yourself a mild headache by focussing too hard on the commotion ahead. The rest of the team don’t seem to notice the tension between you and SSA Hotchner. Or perhaps they do, and the pair of you are just too stubborn to admit it.

It’s been lurking under the surface for a while now, this perplexing pull between you. Lingering glances, raised eyebrows, irises spooled with tendrils of static. A hand pressed against your back every time he scoots behind you, like an excuse. He doesn’t do that with Emily. None of the other agents. A frown that tends to yield when your gaze catches his.

Or hardens when someone acts a little lewder than is appropriate.

Like the other day, for example, when he’d overheard you on the phone with some deadbeat cop in the Dallas area. (He’s probably being unfair. He probably isn’t even a deadbeat. It’s just that anyone that flirts with the idea of your favour is going to be unworthy in comparison, even Agent Hotchner.)

The phone had rung in the middle of your exchange, and you’d answered it immediately, mouthing apologies in its place. Aaron Hotchner remembers the shine of gloss on your lips, the ways your fingers clasped the phone to your ear, gentle but firm. Remnants of peach coloured polish on your nails.

“Yes, this is she,” you’d answered, mouthing another apology to him. “How can I help you?”

You’d come into his office a few minutes prior to discuss something media strategy; Hotch didn’t have a mind for it, he much preferred giving you all the reins. He recognised how strange this was for a control freak as prolific as him. You were different though, he’d attest. It was a sentiment as dangerous, as non-platonic, as the feelings making home in his ribcage.

“Right,” you’d said, pulling your spiral-bound notebook out of your pocket. You’d wedged your phone between your ear and shoulder, slipping your pen out of your breast pocket and clicking it against it. Hotch felt unseasonably hot at such attention to your chest. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, trying to catch your gaze.

“Ah, I see, yes that does sound like our area of expertise,” you’d continued, and then a pause, an awkward, unwieldy laugh. Still beautiful. “No, yes, our is correct — I am in fact part of the team.” Another pause; this time, you’d rolled your eyes when your laugh spooled out of your pretty mouth. He didn’t recognise it. “I don’t know about that. Should we get back to the case at hand? Great.”

Hotchner’s eyebrows had lowered then, furrowing into an expression of concern, flailing interest. Not jealousy. He was pretty certain he knew all your laughs, the cadence of them, the syrupy timbre. This one was new. You sounded uncomfortable, as though something said over the phone had abraded you somehow. As his eyebrows had, his heart had sunk into his stomach. He remembers the strain of his forearm muscles against his clenched knuckles.

“Sure. Yes. As soon as I have all the details I’ll be able to distribute them. Great, yes, we’ll see you soon, I’m sure. Thank you. Goodbye.”

And that had been that. Hotch hadn’t had the stomach to ask after the details, especially not when you’d seemed so eager to put it behind you.

After ending the call, you’d shaken your head and proclaimed, “Don’t ask,” launching back into your spiel about media strategy like it hadn’t happened. Hotch wasn’t in the business of disagreeing with you; pressing things. Saying no. It wasn’t lost on him that he used the word liberally with everyone else he knew.

Back at the scene, Hotch stays a few steps behind the team. He knows that Spencer’s assessing eyes will see right through his faux contemplation; Hotchner knows, from the many frowns Spencer’s eidetic memory has learned, that the expression on his face will be recognised as distraction.

He needs to focus. He needs you near. He needs to keep his eye on the ball. He needs deadbeat detective far away from here.

As you and the BAU team near the crime scene, a rugged looking cop pulls away from his colleagues. He has eyes like treacle tart and a grin that borders on a smirk. A toothpick hangs from his mouth like something out of a Western.

“Detective Landon?” You say, extending a hand in acknowledgement. “Hello, we spoke on the phone yesterday morning.”

Detective Landon spits the toothpick out of his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he does so. But it isn’t the depth of his gaze that drops yours. You can feel someone else’s eyes searing holes through your skull.

“Well I’ll be,” he drawls, taking your hand and pressing it to his mouth. “Your voice doesn’t do you justice, darling.”

You resist the urge to make a face. It’s awful, unfortunate, but you’re far too used to this. Behind you, Derek raises his eyebrows, sharing an amused look with Emily beside him. Rossi looks exasperated. Spencer’s expression remains unchanged, though he does steal a glance at Hotchner. You smile, the way you always do, refusing to be thrown off by his candour.

“That’s a shame,” you reply breezily, turning to introduce your team. “Detective, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid, and —”

“I’m the unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner,” Hotch interrupts, a menacing gravel to his timbre. He doesn’t shake the hand Detective Landon extends to him. The detective draws it back with a gauche bark of laughter, turning his attention to the rest of the BAU.

“My my,” he says, his drawl returning as his eyes meet Emily’s. “What do I gotta do to get in on this team of yours?”

“A formal education would be helpful,” Spencer supplies, squinting at him through his glasses.

Detective Landon turns to him then, raising his eyebrows. “Doctor Reid, was it?”

“It is, but no need to aim that high, buddy,” Morgan says then, stepping forward and patting him on the shoulder. Landon winces. “Now. You going to talk us through what you guys got so far or what?”

“Damn, y’all are a feisty bunch, huh?” He replies, pulling another toothpick out of his breast-pocket. He sends you a wink that makes Hotch’s insides turn, adding, “Don’t mind it on you, sweetheart, but maybe the rest of the BAU ‘oughta play nice.”

Aaron Hotchner would normally agree with his sentiment. He’s been a long time advocate of working alongside the local police in investigations; he recognises that collaboration is far more productive than condescension.

Unfortunately for him, this isn’t quite a normal situation.

Things to do with you and other men rarely are. An ugly green emotion eases his heart right into his throat.

“Or maybe,” Hotchner says crisply, his steely gaze pinning Landon to the spot, “I should have a chat with your Captain and take you off this case.”

Landon balks. “Sir —”

“You’re dismissed,” Hotchner interrupts, not wanting to hear it. He’s unaware of the amused look Emily and Morgan share behind him.

“You…” Landon trails off exasperatedly, shaking his head, “…you can’t dismiss me. This is my case.”

“Actually, it’s the BAU’s case now.” He turns to you expectantly. You think you catch his gaze soften as it falls over your face in paces. Trick of the light, you suppose. “Right?”

“Sure,” you say weakly.

“Right then. Rossi?” Hotch says then, turning to David Rossi autocratically. “Why don’t you and the team go ahead and assess the scene while I head to base and sort out a reassignment.”

“Not you, Reid,” he adds, keeping Spencer in place. “You can come to the station with me, get our replacement up to speed. Sound good?”

Morgan’s trying hard to hide his knowing grin, one side of his mouth upturned with mirth. Emily isn’t bothering to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, her pretty features lit up with amusement. Detective Landon looks mortified. Your cheeks feel on fire.

“Alright,” Rossi says after pause, glancing between you and Hotchner. He’s been in the FBI for long enough now that he’s learnt to pick his battles.

He turns around and begins walking toward the crime scene, the three of you trailing behind him with less purposeful strides.

“Huh,” Derek says, faux-thoughtful. You’re wedged between him and Emily, much to your chagrin. “Wonder what that was about. Any ideas, SSA Prentiss?”

“Well, SSA Morgan,” Emily replies, her smile audible. “I’m afraid that our dear old unit chief has a bit of a soft spot.”

“A soft spot?” Derek echoes, letting out a dramatic gasp. “That’s dangerous in our line of work, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say,” Emily responds sagely.

“Oh shut up, you two,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t just about me. He made a pass on Emily too.”

Emily snorts, shaking her head exasperatedly. “Hey Rossi, you got a name for this phenomenon?”

“Oh yeah,” Rossi replies without hesitation, his gaze trained ahead of him. “Ignorance by infatuation.”

Out of earshot, Spencer and Hotchner are having a similarly painful conversation.

“Strange,” Spencer decides, breaking the silence with his candour.

Aaron knows what he’s insinuating. He resists the urge to turn around and steal another glance at your pretty silhouette. “He was behaving inappropriately. There’s nothing strange about it, Spencer. I was protecting my team.”

“The whole team?”

“Yes.”

“Including me?”

“Yes.”

“But I liked him.”

Hotchner sends him an incredulous look. “And what exactly was there to like?”

“He was entertaining, I think,” Spencer replies casually, shrugging. “In a cop way, you know? Plus, I love listening to Y/N reject men. It’s fascinating.”

Hotchner swallows. “Fascinating?��

“She always does it in this way where they don’t even realise what exactly’s happening,” Spencer explains matter-of-factly. He turns to Aaron Hotchner then. “Don’t worry, though, she’d never do that to you.”

Hotchner’s traitorous heart leaps, his mouth pulling into a paradoxical frown. “Spencer,” he warns.

“Just saying,” Spencer replies, raising his arms in surrender.

“Well,” Hotch says grumpily, “don’t.”

“Alright. Noted.”

[listeblog]

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[staff]

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world? 

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism. 

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

[chvoswxtch]

teach me

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: you want frank to teach you self defense, but it doesn't quite go the way you expected.

warnings: swearing, some angst, mentions of guns, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 8.3k

a/n: what better way to end this year and start the new one than with our favorite hot bodyguard. don't ask me how many times I watched that scene with him and amy. it was for science. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“You’re being a dick.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to learn.”

“You’re still being a dick.”

“Yeah yeah, you ain’t gettin’ no sympathy from me, sweetheart. Now c’mon, try again.”

It was a good thing the cabin was isolated in the middle of the woods, because if anyone had been looking in the living room window at that very moment, they would’ve definitely called the police in horror. Frank had a gun in his right hand that was trained on you, and while he wore a neutral expression on his face, your brows were furrowed in pure annoyance and there was a faint scowl on your lips.

Letting out a huff of irritation, you kept your eyes focused on the gun in Frank’s hand, getting back into somewhat of a fighting stance again. Clenching your hands open and closed a few times, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip before you suddenly rushed forward in an endeavor to take the gun out of his hand. 

But just like he had done the past seven times you tried this, Frank easily managed to block your attempt. He grabbed your wrist in his free hand and spun you around swiftly, pulling you back firmly against his chest while a deep chuckle sounded right next to your ear.

“That was real cute.”

Letting go of you, Frank took a step back and lightly pressed at the back of your knee with the heel of his boot, sending you down to your knees below him. He decided to take it a step further and used the toe of his boot to gently shove at your ass, causing your hands to fly out to catch yourself, rendering you on all fours in front of him. Turning to narrow your eyes at him over your shoulder, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth let you know that was very intentional.

“You know, if you wanted me on my knees, all you had to do was ask.”

“That right?”

Grumbling a string of curses under your breath, you pushed yourself back up onto your feet and turned around to shoot a death glare in Frank’s direction. His plush lips instantly parted into a crooked grin while he looked at you, cocking his head to the side slightly while his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby, hm?”

“I already told you, you’re being a dick. You’re supposed to be teaching me-”

“Then why don’t you quit actin’ like you know everythin’ and start askin’ questions, yeah?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what questions to ask? I asked you to teach me. Teach me means tell me what to do.”

“And when have you ever done what I told ya to?”

As you opened your mouth to protest, Frank arched one of his thick brows and shot you a pointed look, and your rebuttal quickly died on your tongue. You did have a history of ignoring his instructions completely and doing whatever you wanted anyway. With that in mind, you let out a deep exhale through your nose and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Okay, that’s…fair. But this is completely out of my area of expertise. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even held a gun until four days ago. And for the record, when it comes to something serious, I do listen to you. This is serious, and I’m listening.”

Originally when you asked Frank to teach you self defense with a gun, he was completely against it. He made the argument that with him around, you wouldn’t have to worry about that, to which you reminded him of the incident where two people tried to kill you in your own home where you had nothing to protect yourself with and no knowledge of how to in the first place. 

The two of you went back and forth about it for at least an hour. He made the case that it was a one time incident that would never happen again, and argued that nothing was ever going to happen to you in the first place anyway because he showed up to take care of it. You argued back that Frank wouldn’t be by your side twenty-four seven anymore and would eventually be assigned to someone else, possibly taking him far away for extended periods of time.

In the end, you wore him down like you usually did until he gave in and you got your way.

Frank took in the impatient and stubborn expression covering your features, the one he had become all too familiar with and grown to adore. You were a force to be reckoned with when you wanted something, just as much as he was. Even though he didn’t want you to ever have a reason to use a gun, he would rather know you were safe and could handle yourself in his absence if it came down to it. 

“Alright, alright. Wipe that pout off your face and c’mere.”

Doing your best to conceal your tiny smile of victory, you went to stand in front of Frank, but he held his large hand out to stop you and motioned for you to move back a little.

“Keep your distance, okay? You don’t wanna be too close. Now, step one.”

Frank reached out to grab your wrist and brought your hand up towards the barrel of the gun, placing his large hand on top of your own and squeezing gently to signal for you to grab onto it. Once he felt your tight grip on the barrel, he slid his hand over to grab onto your forearm and pushed against it, which caused the gun in his right hand to shift directions. It was no longer aimed at you, but pointed at the wall to your left.

“You wanna take the gun offline, yeah? Look.”

Glancing up at him briefly, you nodded to show him that you were paying attention. When he pulled your arm back in the position it was before, aiming the gun at you once again, you quickly redirected your focus back to his large hands. To reiterate what he was trying to explain to you, Frank repeated his demonstration two more times to make sure you understood.

“Offline, right? Offline, right? And push hard, as hard as you can.”

While Frank’s eyes were locked on you as he demonstrated the first step, you were studying his movements, committing every detail to memory. It seemed simple enough in theory so far. Keep your distance, grab the barrel of the gun, and push it away from yourself hard. When he let go of your arm, you let go of the gun, and you looked up to see that Frank was already watching you.

“Show me.”

Without hesitating, you swiftly reached out to grab the barrel of the gun and forcefully pushed it to the left. Frank let you redirect it to a certain point, and then pushed back to hold the gun in place. His strength was something you couldn’t combat, and as you kept pushing at the barrel, his resistance  made the gun almost wobble in your hands. 

“Attagirl. Easy, easy. Relax.”

Frank reached out with his left hand and grabbed onto your wrist, gently squeezing it to steady your hand.

“Alright, now step two, you go for that wrist, yeah? You get control. Go.”

Immediately you reached out with your right hand to wrap your fingers around Frank’s wrist to grab onto it tightly. Giving a slight shake of his head, Frank pulled your hand off of his wrist and guided it underneath his wrist instead.

“Look, underneath, yeah? Underneath. Go for the joint. Joints are weakest.”

Everything Frank was showing you seemed so simple that it filled you with a false sense of confidence. With your right hand under his right wrist, you gripped onto the barrel tightly with your left hand and took a step back as you tried to tug it away, thinking it would spring loose. Frank let out a grunt of disapproval and pulled his right arm back, easily slipping the gun out of your grasp completely and causing you to stumble forward a bit. He had a somewhat stern look on his face as he wagged the gun in your direction twice.

“Easy, bang bang. Don’t ever pull a gun towards you. You push it away.”

Letting out a huff of annoyance as your previous overzealous confidence fizzled out, you looked up at Frank as he held his left hand out towards you to signal for you to stay in place. He wasn’t teasing you anymore like he had been earlier. This wasn't Frank that had made you strawberry pancakes and caressed your legs while they sat in his lap as the two of you shared breakfast this morning. This was Frank that nearly sent your ex to the morgue instead of prison. He was back in full protective bodyguard mode.

“Listen to me. Use your legs, get underneath, and twist. Don’t pull, twist. Yeah? C’mon, show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you gave a slight nod and went over the steps in your head. Grab the barrel of the gun, shove it away from yourself, slip your other hand under the wrist joint, and twist the gun away. Your lips faintly twitched as you silently recited the steps to yourself three times for good measure. Frank didn’t make a move to rush you. He kept his eyes on you and waited patiently until you were ready to give it a try. 

Sucking in one more deep breath, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you sprung into action. Taking a quick step forward, you reached out to tightly grab the barrel of the gun with your left hand, and while you pushed it away to the left, you simultaneously slipped your right hand under Frank’s wrist. Twisting the barrel of the gun forcefully to the right caused Frank’s wrist to twist with it until he was forced to let go, and in that short window of weakness you were able to pull the gun out of his hand with a hard step backwards.

Glancing down at the gun in your hands, your eyes went wide with surprise and your mouth hung open as you let out an incredulous laugh. 

“Holy shit, that actually worked!”

Frank held his hands up like you had just made a touchdown, and he started to clap as a proud tooth bearing grin stretched over his lips.

“Look at that, huh? Who got a gun, huh?”

Looking up at Frank, your lips parted into a huge grin of your own while you held it up like a trophy and spoke in a proud voice.

“I have a gun.”

“Attagirl. You’re goddamn right you do. You did good, sweetheart. Real good. Feels good, yeah?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you let out a soft laugh while admiring the gun in your hands. Well, more so admiring the fact that you were able to actually take it from Frank. The only reason you felt comfortable holding the gun right now was because Frank had shown you the clip was empty before he started demonstrating the basics earlier. 

Pointing a loaded gun at Steven had been different. You were blinded in a fit of rage, not thinking clearly, but deep down you knew there was no way you would have actually pulled the trigger. However if you had been level headed, you probably wouldn’t have taken it from Billy, even if he offered. 

“Yeah…yeah it does.”

And it did feel good. It made you feel strong…less helpless. Frank was giving you back a sense of safety and security that had been stolen from you when you were first threatened by the Defenders of Freedom. Even if you never used this lesson, and you genuinely hoped you wouldn’t have to, you felt a surge of confidence knowing that you were at least capable of protecting yourself in some capacity. 

“Okay, step three.”

A pinch of confusion settled between your brows as you looked up at Frank when he mentioned a third step, and you noticed that he wasn’t smiling anymore. A grim look had settled over his features that sent a chill of unease down your spine.

“You just took a gun off someone that wanted to use it on you. What d’you do.”

The delight of pride had disappeared from his face and was swiftly replaced by a shadow of severity that was now coveting his sharp features, and the elated grin that was on your own lips had slowly fallen from grace. It was a rhetorical question you both knew the answer to, but you hadn’t factored in a third step. It hadn’t even crossed your mind, and Frank could see that in your eyes.

“You use it on them. Don’t matter who they are, you do not hesitate. You got that?”

Looking down at the gun in your hands, the weight of it was suddenly too heavy in your palms. Step three was a reminder that step one and two weren’t just to boost your confidence in protecting yourself; they were steps to defend yourself. Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head in silent understanding.

“Good. Show me.”

Frank’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t a suggestion either. Placing both of your hands on the gun the way he had shown you to properly hold it, you took a deep breath, slowly raising it to aim in Frank’s direction. You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he knew the clip was empty, or that this most likely wasn’t the first time he had stared down the barrel of a gun, but he looked completely unphased. The canvas of his face was expressionless, but his eyes were what you had learned to read. Only right now, you couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell you. 

The gun trembled slightly in your grasp, as if every cell in your body knew exactly how wrong it felt to point a gun at Frank, loaded or not. The self defense lesson you wanted for a possible yet highly improbable scenario had quickly become too heavy and realistic, and you were quickly regretting even asking for it.

“Show me.”

“I’m not doing that-”

“It ain’t loaded-”

“Frank, I don’t want to-”

“What’d I say, huh? I don’t care who it is, you do not hesitate. Ever. Now, show me you understand.”

Frank’s tone was a little more forceful, but the volume of it was still even and somewhat soft. You knew there were no repercussions if you didn’t pull the trigger. He had learned early on that he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to, and you trusted him enough to know that he would never try to force you. Frank never demanded anything of you, he always asked.

But you had asked for this, and he wanted you to follow through with it.

Clenching your jaw, you let out a shaky exhale through your nose, and you slowly squeezed the trigger like he had taught you to yesterday when you were out in the woods using cans as target practice. The click that sounded caused you to flinch, and it seemed to echo loudly in the living room. Frank on the other hand didn’t visibly react to it at all.

Without another word, you placed the gun down onto the coffee table a little too forcefully and headed towards the back door, wanting to put as much distance between it and yourself as possible. Frank caught your wrist before you could get too far and gently tugged you back towards himself.

“Hey-”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“No, you ain’t. You ain’t runnin’ away, you’re gonna stay here and talk to me. We ain’t doin’ that not communicatin’ shit. Why are you upset?”

“I told you I didn’t want to do that-”

“You asked me to teach you. I said no, but you kept on beggin’. What did you think this was gonna be, huh? You think you get a gun off someone, and it ends there? No. As soon as you get control and take it, you use it. No negotiatin’, no questionin’ it, you do it-”

“And what if I can’t, Frank?”

The distress in your voice made him pause and clench his jaw. He could see that you were visibly upset, and for a moment he wondered if he was being too hard on you. You said it yourself, this was not your area of expertise. It was his. Frank had years of professional training under his belt. Pulling a trigger was something he didn’t even have to think twice about. It was an automatic response. The aftermath of what followed didn’t even make him bat an eye. There were always casualties in war. 

But you weren’t a soldier, and having to actually pull the trigger on someone would be something that haunted you for the rest of your life if it came down to it.

Letting out a deep exhale through his large nose, Frank stepped forward and wrapped one of his arms around your waist to pull you into his embrace while using his other hand to slip his fingers gently into your hair to brush it back before cradling your face in his right hand.

“Listen to me. If it comes down to you, or someone else, you do whatever you gotta do to save yourself, you got that?”

The rational part of your brain knew that Frank was right. If you had taken a gun from Cavella or Walker, you would’ve had to shoot them. There’s no way they wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to kill you if they had it. But the emotional part of your brain was struggling to figure out if you could handle the consequences of taking someone’s life, justified or not. Frank could see the internal conflict in your eyes, and he lightly brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone as the rough timbre of his voice broke the tense silence.

“Hey, no one’s sayin’ you gotta shoot ‘em point blank, alright? I’ve seen your aim, and it ain’t all that great anyway. You’d be lucky to scare ‘em off with firin’ a terrible shot just so you could get away.”

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you let out a dry laugh. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, he was right. You were terrible. You didn’t hit a single can yesterday, even at close range. You did manage to scare the shit out of some crows in a tree though.

“You are such an ass.”

The edge of Frank’s mouth twitched up into a light smirk while giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“And you’re cute thinkin’ you could actually do some damage. I know a blind guy that can hit targets better than you. Look, you gotta stop gettin’ upset ‘bout things that might not even happen, alright? If it ever comes down to it, remember that you’re the one controllin’ the gun, yeah? It ain’t controllin’ you. Wherever you aim, the bullet’s gonna go. You can shoot ‘em in the leg, foot, shoulder, hell shoot ‘em in the dick for all I care. That’ll keep ‘em down for a while. You just promise me you’ll pull that trigger. You get ‘em down however you want, and then you get the hell outta there. That’s all you gotta do, yeah?”

Frank dipped his head to catch your eyes, staring intently into them. Letting out a deep breath, you bit down on your bottom lip and nodded while placing your hands on Frank’s biceps. You could do that. Injuring someone just to get away was a lot more manageable for your conscience. Frank lightly grasped your jaw in his large hand, his bottom three fingers wrapping around your throat while his index finger and thumb held your jaw. He tipped your head back so that you had no choice but to look up at him.

“Lemme hear you say it.”

Staring up into his warm brown eyes, you gazed up at him silently for a moment before speaking.

“No hesitating. I promise.”

“Attagirl. C’mere.”

Frank leaned in to capture your lips in a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes it amazed you how easily he was able to talk you down from the ledge. Frank was a man of few words, but he somehow always knew exactly which ones to say to ease whatever anxieties were weighing on your mind. And the distraction of his plush lips against yours also certainly helped.

Ever since the other night by the fireplace, every kiss between the two of you that started out soft and sweet had a way of evolving into something more passionate and insatiable. Maybe it was the months of denying your feelings for one another, or maybe there was just some magnetic pull between your souls, but whatever it was, neither of you could get enough.

Before you could even register that you were moving, Frank was lifting you up by your hips and setting you down on the dining table, his hungry kisses leaving a searing path along your jawline and down the column of your neck.

“Did good today, sweetheart. Did real goddamn good, made me so proud.”

Frank’s gravely songs of praise in your ear only further ignited the flame of desire that was burning in your lower belly. Despite the warmth of his large palm touching your bare skin as he slipped it underneath your shirt to caress your lower back, a shiver teasingly tumbled down your spine from the contact.

“I had a good teacher.”

“Nah, I think you’re just a natural, baby.”

“I thought I had terrible aim?”

“Didn’t say you were perfect. Everybody’s got their strengths and weaknesses.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you could feel the rumble of Frank’s deep chuckle vibrating in his chest that was pressed against yours.

“Wow, you really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Castle.”

Frank pulled back slightly to look down at you, his eyes traveling over your figure to drink in the sight of you sitting on the edge of the dining table before they slowly wandered back up to meet your gaze. He arched one of his thick brows as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yours are currently danglin’, sweetheart.”

Before you could retort with a smartass comment of your own, Frank’s mouth was back on your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses along your sensitive skin. Feeling his tongue gliding along your collarbone and giving it a delectable love bite, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back, granting Frank all the access he wanted to your skin.

The feeling of his lips on your neck was so heavenly you almost didn’t notice that he had popped the button on your jeans and tugged down your zipper until he was lifting you up slightly with one arm around your waist and pulling the denim down your hips with his free hand. As soon as your jeans were completely off, your own hands were reaching for Frank’s belt buckle, but he grasped your wrists and halted your attempt. A soft noise of protest quickly slipped past your lips.

“Frank-”

“Shh shh shh. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

A rush of heat pooled in your cheeks at his request, but you obliged immediately. Frank leaned in to kiss you deeply, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip and nipping at it softly while his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties and slipped them off too slowly for your liking. The sudden contact of the crisp autumn air coming in through the open windows hitting your slicked folds had you gasping, and Frank used that to his advantage by slipping his tongue into your mouth to caress your own sensually. 

“Spread ‘em wider for me, sweetheart. C’mon.”

Frank’s deep voice was quiet, but it nestled in your ears as comfortably as it did between your thighs. He pulled you a little more towards the edge of the dining table, and when you spread your legs further for him, he sank down to his knees in front of you and let out a low groan of appreciation at the sight waiting for him. 

“Attagirl, that’s it. God, look at you. You should see how fuckin’ pretty you look right now, baby.”

His large hands gripped onto your soft thighs, kneading and squeezing your flesh with his thick fingers. Frank didn’t waste a second before diving into your cunt face first. As soon as his warm and wet tongue began to strum your clit like chords to his favorite song, your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. He brought your legs over his broad shoulders, burying his face so deep into your core, you weren’t sure how he was breathing.

Your hand quickly found a fistful of his slightly grown out hair that you gripped onto to steady yourself, and when you gave it an experimental tug, the vibration of his groan against your clit had your thighs trembling more than any toy you had ever gotten for yourself before.

“Fuck…Frank…”

Frank let out a loud grunt as he pulled back for just a moment to stare at your glistening pussy almost in awe, his hooded eyes briefly meeting your own for a second before focusing back on the display of your desire for him.

“Taste so good sweetheart, so fuckin’ good. You got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He dove right back in, this time slipping his tongue inside of you to explore while using his large nose to bump against your clit repeatedly. The stimulation had your back arching off the dining table and a loud moan echoed throughout the cabin. Tugging harder at his dark roots, you pushed your hips up against his face, desperately and greedily searching for more. None of your exes had ever eaten you out like this before. Most of them didn’t even know what the fuck they were doing, and the rest gave up after a few minutes because it “took too long”, but still expected you to suck them off until your jaw ached.

But Frank…God, Frank knew what he was doing. His thick fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, following your hips wherever they went. The groans that continued to vibrate against your clit not only turned you on because of their stimulation, but because you could tell that Frank was genuinely enjoying eating your pussy. The fact that he was getting just as much pleasure out of it as you were had you on the brink of an orgasm alone. Frank had a way of making every experience feel brand new, and it made you realize just how much you had been missing out on in your previous relationships.

That familiar bubbly feeling was building up inside of you, cresting slowly like a tidal wave ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting beach. Your breaths were coming out in short staccato variations, and at this point you were roughy tugging at Frank’s hair with both hands while essentially fucking his face. Not that he seemed to mind at all. If anything, it just seemed to make him more feral.

“Yesyesyesyes…please-fuck, Frank…I…I…”

Frank pulled you even closer towards the edge of the dining table to where your ass was basically hanging off of it, and the jolt of his large palm smacking against your ass was the only indication you got that he understood what you were trying to tell him.

You thought you had more time, but your climax suddenly crashed into you without further warning, and your hips were stuttering as Frank continued his incessant assault on your pussy with his tongue. It seemed like he didn’t want to let a drop of your essence go to waste, and while you appreciated his enthusiasm, the way he was flicking his tongue rapidly against your overstimulated clit was riding that very thin line between pain and pleasure, and you were weakly shoving at his broad shoulders.

“Okay okay okay…Frank…fuck, please! Just…give me a second, God-”

Frank dragged his tongue up your entire pussy from your entrance to your clit one last time before granting you mercy with a low growl. While you panted heavily laying back against the dining room table, he was pressing featherlight kisses to each of your inner thighs, but due to your body feeling like a live wire, they felt like faint shocks that had your body jolting every time his wet lips met your heated skin. He chuckled deeply watching you respond to his touch.

“You alright there, sweetheart?”

Lifting your hand, you gave him a weak thumbs up, and Frank just laughed even louder in amusement at that. The sound of his laughter combined with your own blissed out post orgasm state had a lazy grin stretching over your lips. You felt his large and rough hands slipping underneath your shirt, gently caressing your bare skin and grabbing your waist while he leaned over you, kissing your lips deeply. The taste of your own sweet tang on Frank’s tongue had your head spinning, and a soft hum sounded in the back of your throat.  Even though you were still recovering from your first ever oral orgasm, the feeling of Frank’s hard cock straining against his jeans and rubbing against your inner thigh reignited your greed.

Brushing your hand slowly down his chest, you palmed him firmly through his jeans, and Frank let out a grunt while pushing himself further against your hand. He broke the kiss momentarily to nuzzle his large nose against your throat.

“If ya need a minute-”

“No. Now.”

While you unfastened his belt in record time, Frank placed his hands on the table on either side of your head and pulled back to look down at you with a soft chuckle at your impatience. He lightly cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes darkened with lust as they roamed over you shamelessly. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and a crooked smirk caressed his mouth.

“Anybody ever tell you what an impatient lil thing you are?”

A smirk of your own tugged across your lips while you slipped your hand into his jeans, stroking his thick cock through his briefs, earning a quiet grunt from Frank.

“Apart from you every day since we met? Maybe a few other people. Is my lack of patience really what you wanna talk about right now, big guy?”

The sultry tone of your voice did not go unnoticed by Frank, and in fact, it only made his cock swell even more in your welcoming hand. He slowly moved his hips back and forth as you teasingly stroked him and leaned down closer towards you, nuzzling his nose along your throat before whispering huskily into your ear.

“Got somethin’ better in mind.”

By the time Frank had carried you down the hall to the master bedroom, the two of you had left a trail of forgotten items of clothing strewn like breadcrumbs along the path from the kitchen. He let you push him back against the mattress and grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, his lips moving in sync with your own, but when you felt the swollen head of his cock bump against your clit, you suddenly pressed your palms firmly against his chest and pulled back while breaking the kiss.

“Wait.”

Frank immediately paused, loosening his grip on your hips, his lust clouded eyes clearing a bit while searching your own and wandering over your figure for the source of the problem.

“What? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The concern in his rough timbre combined with the worry in his soft brown eyes made your heart melt. A gentle smile covered your lips while you reached out to delicately hold his strong jaw in your hands, and you leaned in to kiss his lips softly.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have all the fun.”

Frank’s apprehension morphed into confusion, and a few creases nestled between his thick brows. 

“Huh?”

Letting out a soft laugh at how adorable he looked when he was confused, you decided to explain with actions instead of words. When you moved backwards off his lap to settle between his legs, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, following you with his eyes as he watched you intently. 

“What are you-holy shit.”

Frank’s jaw went slack the second you leaned in and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it once before beginning to take a few inches into your mouth. Placing one of your hands on his left hip, you teasingly moved your lips up his length until he was out of your mouth with a satisfying pop. Pursing your lips, you let a string of glistening saliva slowly drop onto his tip and used your free hand to spread it down the rest of his thick cock for lubrication, and after wrapping your fingers around his girth, you began to twist your wrist up and down slowly. 

You could feel how tense he was through your hold on his hip. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you noticed that he was staring directly at you, completely mesmerized, and was gripping onto the sheets so tightly you thought he might rip them. Moving your hand from his hip, you reached out to caress his hand, and he slowly loosened his grip, his knuckles no longer stark white. His plush lips were parted, and he was breathing hard, his thick brows knit in complete focus. You allowed him to slip out of your mouth for just a moment to smile softly up at Frank.

“Just relax.”

The sweet sound of your voice seemed to reach his ears, and after a few more moments of hesitation, Frank finally laid back against the mattress and let his head rest on the pillows. He moved the hand that was underneath yours to grab your wrist, turning your hand over so he could slot his fingers between yours to hold it. His other hand slowly came over to card his fingers through your hair before cradling the back of your head. Giving his hand that you were holding a light squeeze, you continued to hold eye contact with Frank while slowly sucking him off, using your hand that was around his base to work over what wouldn’t fit in your mouth.

The sound of his quiet grunts and low moans sent a thrill through you, and you wanted to know just how vocal he could get. Letting go of his hand, you placed both of your palms firmly on his hips and relaxed your jaw completely, taking his entire cock into your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. A guttural groan ripped from the depth of his chest and his lower abdomen instantly tensed up as he gripped onto your hair.

“Goddamn-fuck…fuck, sweetheart. Do…do that again. Please…please baby, do it again.”

Taking in a deep inhale through your nose, you prepared yourself to deepthroat Frank’s thick cock again, and this time you held him there until your eyes started to water. He let out a louder moan of your name, and that caused the throbbing between your thighs to evolve from dull to downright unbearable. You thought about sneaking your hand downwards to get a little relief, but Frank had been so unselfish when he ate you out, only focused on your pleasure, and he deserved that same treatment. 

All of a sudden, Frank roughly tugged at your hair, and that made you moan around his cock. You heard him let out a quiet fuck under his breath in response. He gave your hair another tug to get your attention, and his cock slipped from your lips as you licked them and tried to catch your breath while staring at him, noticing that he had sat up.

“C’mere.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest before he grabbed your throat and pulled you in close to kiss you fervently. Frank’s large and rough hands grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap again, and you let out a soft whine against his lips when the head of his cock rubbed against your sensitive clit. 

“Frank, I didn’t get to finish-”

“As much as I’d love to come down that pretty throat, I need ya baby. Need ya now.”

Grabbing the base of his cock, Frank positioned himself perfectly with your entrance and pulled you down slowly, letting you feel every single inch of him. Your mouth hung open at the sensation, and your body instantly tensed up. You thought Frank had been deep the other night, but he was reaching an even greater depth inside of you right now if that was possible. There was a slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size, but your brain barely even registered it, because Frank was slipping his tongue into your mouth and kissing you sensually as if he wanted to steal the very essence of life from your lungs. 

Once he was fully nestled deep inside of you, a high pitched cry left your mouth, and he wrapped his arm around your waist tightly.

“Shh…s’alright. Just relax for me, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you clung to Frank as he wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist and held you tightly against his chest. Both of you sat there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together as you panted. He rubbed his large calloused hand up and down your spine soothingly, his teeth grazing along your ear lobe and biting down gently to distract you from any discomfort. Slowly, the tension in your body melted, and you gave an experimental roll of your hips that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“That’s it…attagirl. Take your time, sweetheart. M’right here. I got you.”

This felt right. It felt…perfect. Those three little words almost slipped out right there. Grabbing onto the back of his neck, you pulled Frank in for a passionate kiss, trying to pour every ounce of emotion you felt into it. He groaned quietly against your lips when your nails lightly scratched at the back of his head where his hair was shaved closely to his scalp. Moving your hips in slow circles, you grinded down onto Frank’s cock, and he flexed his hips upwards to match your rhythm. The other night by the fireplace had been the best experience of your life, but this…this was something you couldn’t put into words.

Placing your palms against Frank’s firm chest, you pressed lightly and he followed your silent instructions, allowing you to push him onto his back. His large hands gripped firmly onto your hips as he gazed up at you, and you kept your palms flat on his chest while slowly riding his cock. Neither of you could tear your eyes away from each other. The feeling of his warm hands leisurely moving up your bare skin made you shiver, and a soft gasp left your lips when he groped your breasts and squeezed gently. The calloused pad of his thumb gingerly brushing over your peaked nipple had you arching your back, pressing your chest further into his eager hands.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s vulnerable whisper nearly brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t saying it because he thought it was what you wanted to hear, he was saying it because he felt it, and he was making you feel it too. The way he was staring up at you like you were the only thing that mattered had your heart swelling inside your ribcage like a balloon about to burst. It had been a long time since you mattered to someone, and you felt lucky it was Frank. The look in his eyes was almost too much to handle.

Letting your head fall back, you closed your eyes for a moment as you writhed on top of Frank, getting completely lost in how good it felt to be connected to him in such a raw and intimate way. One of his hands traveled up from your breast towards your throat, and he wrapped his fingers tightly around it almost entirely, forcing you to face him again. He pulled you down over him so that your forehead was pressed to his, and the two of you stared deeply into each other's eyes. 

“Frank-”

“I wanna see you. Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come for me. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Being this close to him, you noticed for the first time that there were scattered flecks of honey in his deep brown eyes. They looked so warm and inviting, like two melted pools of chocolate you wanted to drown in. The eyes that could say so much with a single look. You thought you could see it…that flicker that he felt it too. You wanted to tell him so fucking badly, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment, and the way he was hitting that spongy spot inside of you that could cause supernovas to appear behind your eyelids was making it hard for you to speak at all.

Holding his face in your hand, your eyes drifted back and forth between his own as you stared down at him in complete devotion, your lips parted as you nodded your head frantically while short and breathy moans escaped you. Frank’s eyes were focused solely on you, one of his hands holding the back of your head while his other remained around your throat. It was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

It was also getting harder and harder to not voice the sentiment that was overflowing from your ribcage.

“Frank…I…I-”

Frank cut off your words by capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The softness of his lips against yours, the heat of his bare skin pressed to your own, his thick fingers wrapped around your neck and tangled in your hair, his pubic bone rubbing just right against your clit…it was all too much. Breaking the kiss, you buried your face into the crook of his neck and let out a sharp cry of his name. Your nails raked harshly down his chest when your climax finally peaked, and a white hot cloud of hedonistic desire blinded your vision. 

Your entire body seized up, and you could faintly hear Frank whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he gripped your hips and repeatedly thrust up into you, fucking you through your orgasm while barreling towards his own. The sensation of that alone was enough to nearly send you free falling into another. The intensity of your orgasm had rendered you an incoherent and moaning mess. Frank dug his fingers roughly into the flesh of your hips and came with a deep grunt that nearly sounded like a growl, letting out a loud groan of your name.

The room felt like a sauna. Your face felt overheated, and your hair was stuck to your cheeks and the back of your neck with sweat. Frank had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, hugging you against his chest. The feeling of his strong heartbeat thundering against your own chest kept you anchored to the moment while your body trembled with aftershocks. You couldn’t move, and you didn’t want to.

As soon as Frank made a move to sit up and pull out of you, a desperate and high pitched whine of protest fell from your lips while you gripped onto his shoulder and dug your nails into the muscle.

“No no no no no, please…don’t move.”

Frank instantly stilled, bringing one of his hands up to brush the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead and neck away. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead and gave your body a gentle squeeze in his strong arms.

“Okay, we don’t gotta move yet.”

Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you buried your face further into Frank’s neck, letting the comforting scent of his cologne calm you. He gently carded his thick fingers through your hair and kept holding you tightly to his chest while resting his head against your own.

“I just wanna stay like this for a while.”

“We can stay like this as long as you want, sweetheart.”

When you started to regain your senses, you started to wonder just how true that statement was. 

How long could you and Frank stay like this before reality came knocking?

Your home wouldn’t always be a crime scene. Eventually the two of you would have to go back to work. Now that everything had changed between the two of you, what would a new normal look like? Frank’s job required him to be with someone constantly. What happens when he gets assigned to someone else? What if it’s another woman? Even though Frank was broody and unapproachable initially, you had still found him attractive, and all the time you spent together over the past few months led you right here to this moment.

What if that happened with someone else? What if the next woman he was assigned to found him just as attractive? What if she wanted him? You and Frank hadn’t really established what this was between the two of you. Were you together? Did he want to be together? Would he still want to be together if the next woman was prettier and less stubborn and actually-

“Quit it.”

The sound of his deep voice breaking through the silence interrupted your spiraling. 

“What?”

“Whatever you’re overthinkin’ right now, let it go.”

Removing your face from the crook of Frank’s neck, you pulled back slightly to peer down at him in pure curiosity.

“How do you even-”

“I can practically hear the gears turnin’ in your head, sweetheart. You keep thinkin’ so hard, smoke’s gonna start comin’ out of your ears.”

Giving him a pointed look expressing you weren’t amused, he let out a quiet chuckle and gently brushed the calloused pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

“C’mon, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry ‘bout right now. Just relax, yeah?”

Letting out a soft sigh, you nodded and laid your head back against Frank’s shoulder, nuzzling your nose against his neck as he hugged onto you tightly. For a while, you two laid there wrapped up in one another, and you were able to let some of your anxieties go. The afterglow of your shared euphoria was peaceful, and you could’ve even fallen asleep at that moment, but something Frank said earlier suddenly popped back into your head. 

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Do you really know a blind guy that has a good aim with guns?”

Frank let out a quiet snicker at your question.

“He don’t use guns. He’s too…Catholic.”

That did nothing to answer your question and only fueled you with more inquiries.

“But…you said he could hit targets better than I could.”

Frank simply grunted in response. You stayed silent waiting for further explanation, but when one didn’t come, you continued your questions.

“How?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sitting up a little bit again, you stared down at Frank in complete puzzlement.

“But…he’s blind. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No it don’t.”

“So…he’s-”

“An asshole. Go to sleep.”

Letting out a soft laugh, your eyes widened slightly as you gently smacked his chest.

“Frank!”

“What? Cause he’s blind he can’t be an asshole?”

“Well…no. But…how does he do it?”

“You’ll have to ask ‘em yourself.”

“I thought Billy was your only friend.”

Frank pulled a look of faux offense at that, his thick brows knit as he let out a puff of air through his lips.

“Ouch. I got other friends, smartass. And I never said he was one. He’s more of a pain in my ass.”

Frank gently pinched your ass which made you squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter.

“Hey!”

A huge grin split across your lips as he suddenly flipped you both over, managing to keep himself nestled inside of you while he pinned you beneath his large body. As he leaned in to kiss your lips, you brought your index finger up and pressed it against his mouth.

“I’m not done. I have more questions.”

“Course you do.”

“I wanna know who this mystery blind man is with good aim, and your other friends that you suddenly have that you’ve kept from me. While you’re at it, is there anything else you’re hiding, Castle?”

While your question was intended to be teasing, a dark look flashed across Frank’s eyes, and it made your breath hitch in your throat. He stared down at you silently for a moment, and it made you wonder just how much more there was to Frank that you hadn’t uncovered yet. As soon as you removed your finger from his lips, Frank leaned in closer, caging you in with his large hands on either side of your head. As he loomed over you, he slowly thrust his hips against your own, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. His breath was warm against your lips while he nuzzled his large nose along your own, his rough voice coming out in a husky whisper.

“Think I liked you better when the only thing you could say was my name, sweetheart.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[positivelyapunovexponent-good]

@gay-victorian-astronomer

Astronomy is such an insane field of science because wdym we can look at planets billions of km away and be able to deduce what it’s made from like wtff

[myfictionaldreams]

Omg yay!! Im so happy so for Wanda x reader x nat so what if one day Wanda takes the reader out shopping because she never really wears anything revealing and they wanted to surprise nat with something special when she comes home from her mission so when she comes out of the Dressing in a very revealing dress the Wanda is smitten but when nat sees the reader after a long and stressful day…. She simply cannot help herself.

⁀➷ Red Silk // Wanda/Nat x F!Reader

Summary: Eager to surprise Natasha after a long mission, you let Wanda take you shopping for something a little out of your comfort zone. Dressed to impress and filled with anxiety, you wait for Natasha’s return.

Requested by: Thank you for this request! I've never written Wanda before (I hope it was ok!)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, self-conscious/anxious reader, dom!Nat/Wanda, sub!reader, orgasm control, toys, overstimulation, threesome, restrained, aftercare, praise kink, fingering

Words: 3.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It started with a simple idea. You wanted to surprise Wanda and Natasha. You’d spent the past week missing them both.

Natasha, off on another high-stakes mission halfway across the road with Clint, and Wanda, busy running point from the Tower and calling you at night when she knew you’d be curled under your weighted blanket, pretending you weren’t lonely.

They were strong, capable, and skilled in their own ways. But somehow, they still made you, an entirely average, anxious human, feel like the most important part of their world.

So when Wanda offered to take you shopping “just for fun,” you hesitated initially, like you did to most suggestions. Shopping was not really your thing—definitely not for another revealing. But Wanda cupped your cheeks in her warm, graceful hands and looked into your eyes with that impossibly gentle stare.

“Let’s do something for Nnat. You know how hard it’s been for her lately. She misses us. And I think she’d lose her mind if she came home to you dressed like sin.”

That made your stomach flutter. You weren’t used to thinking of yourself as sexy; that was definitely Natasha and Wanda's area of expertise. But the idea of making them happy? It was exciting and terrifying.

You stood in front of the mirror, inside a private fitting room of an upscale boutique Wanda had charmed you into. The dress she’d chosen for you was a deep, wine-coloured silk that shimmered like molten metal under the studio lights. It dipped low across your chest and exposed nearly all your back. A slit ran dangerously high along your thigh.

Too high.

“Wands,” you called, your voice unable to disguise the anxiety, “are you sure this isn’t too much?”

The blue curtain swished open just enough for her to peek in, her emerald eyes immediately widening with appreciation. Peaking over her shoulder, she stepped inside without hesitation, her hands reaching to rest gently on your shoulders as she stood behind you, both of you facing the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

“Look at you,” she whispers, lips brushing your ear. “You look … devastating.”

Lowering your head, cheeks burning. “I just- what if I look like I'm trying too hard? Or worse, like I'm playing dress-up in someone else’s life? I'm not like you two. You’re gorgeous and powerful.”

Wanda turned you gently to face her, her touch always feather-light, and your body instantly leaned in to her.

“You’re ours,” she reminds you softly. “That's what makes you dangerous, dekta. You don’t even know the effect you have on us.”

Her thumb brushed over your bottom lip, calming the anxious tremble. She had been such an anchor to you since the first moment.

“I just want her to be happy—both of you. I know I'm not strong like her or have magic like you, but I love you so much it makes my chest hurt sometimes.”

Wanda smiles at you, a coy and flirtatious smile, her voice barely above a breath. “You are strong, my love. You’re the heart of us. You’re what keeps us human.”

Wanda knew you would spiral when coming shopping; she knew you better than you knew yourself. You would have these moments of courage to prove you’re worth the love, and then anxiety would snap you back again. All Wanda wanted was for you to understand that you were worthy of their love because her heart ached seeing the fear in your eyes.

Turning your body back towards the mirror, Wanda's hand smooths over the silk barely covering your hips. She didn’t say another word, but she didn’t have to. You could see the want and need in her pretty eyes, and just watched as she looked you up and down. Eventually, the tension in your shoulders eased, and you could begin to relax, maybe just beginning to believe her words.

You could do this; it’s just lingerie. Natasha had seen you naked more times than you could even begin to count. You could please your Avenger girlfriend.

Later that evening, you stood in the apartment, barefoot but still in the dress, trying desperately not to fidget as Wanda lit a few candles around the living room. You’d even attempted a soft make-up look, though you were convinced your hands had been too shaky for eyeliner.

“She should be back any minute,” Wanda informs as she walks past to grab a bottle of wine, pausing only to brush her hand across your lower back. “Deep breath, Sweetheart. She’s going to lose her mind.”

You open your mouth to answer, but the sound of the door unlocking freezes you in place, and your fingers are instantly wringing together over your abdomen in anxiety.

Then she was there—Natasha, dressed in her usual black tactical gear, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, her red hair damp from the light drizzle outside. Her eyes were on you and only you.

The rest of the world seemingly slid away.

The fatigue on her beautiful face didn’t have time to settle. Not when she saw you, standing in that dress, framed by candlelight and body taut with nerves.

She drops her bag heavily onto the floor. “What … is this?”

You swallow, “Surprise?”

Narasha didn’t move right away. She was rarely caught off guard, but you could see how her jaw clenched and her breath hitched. The way her eyes drank you in like she’d been starved.

Wanda appeared at your side, looping her arm around your waist. “We missed you.”

Nat looked at both of you, walking forward slowly, gaze never leaving yours, until her hand found your hip.

“No weapon?” she murmured, teasing, but her tone was low and husky. “No backup?”

“I have you,” you respond shakily.

Something flickered in her eyes at that. Something tender and dangerous and overwhelmed.

“Fuck,” she whispered, almost to herself, hand sliding from your hip to your waist. “You’ve been walking around like this all day?”

“Just in the fitting room,” Wanda purred, releasing your arm so that she could walk around Natasha’s back, her arms wrapping around her middle. She kissed the assassin's cheek and then rested her chin on her shoulder so that they were now both gazing at you. “But now she's yours.”

Natasha’s hand slipped behind your neck, her nails teasing on their journey, tugging you gently forward until your lips were barely an inch from hers. “You really wanted to surprise me, huh?”

“I wanted to make you both happy,” you say, tasting the bubblegum on her sweet breath. “You deserve it.”

Natasha kisses you like she’d been dying to, slow but intense, her fingers tightening, her entire body pressing into yours like she needed the contact to breathe.

When she finally pulled back, she glanced at Wanda by her side, then at you again.

“Bed. Now.”

Wanda’s smile widened as she moved back to your side, guiding you backwards, her hand never leaving your lower back. And just like that, the anxiety faced because here, between them, you were safe, desired, protected and loved.

You’d barely stepped into your bedroom before Natasha’s hands were on you again. 

Her touch was rough with need, fingers ghosting over the silk of the dress like she wanted to tear it off but knew better. Not yet. Not when you looked like that. Not when Wanda had dressed you with such care.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” she spoke passionately as her lips moved to your neck, biting just hard enough to make you whimper.

Wanda closed the door behind you, her magic flickering through the room to dim the lights and ignite the soft, amber glow of candles. You could feel the hum of her power, sensual and warm, brushing against your skin like a second set of hands.

Natasha glanced back momentarily at Wanda, “Have you seen her like this all day?”

Wanda’s eyes dropped to your flushed face and trembling thighs. “Mmhmm. She’s been so shy and sweet, and so fucking good. Nervous, but determined. Just for us.”

That earned a soft kiss to your temple fromWanda and a sharp squeeze to your ass from Natasha.

“Climb onto the bed,” Wanda whispered to you. “On your knees. Facing us.”

Your breath caught. This is what you needed—some direction, someone else to take control and get you out of your negative thoughts. So you obeyed happily.

The silk dress rode up your thighs as you settled on the mattress, the blanket adding extra padding beneath your knees. You felt their eyes devouring you.  Wanda’s fond, hungry gaze and Nat’s dark, intense stare like a fire being barely restrained. But there was love there, too—so much of it.

Wanda approached first, her fingers trailing lightly over your shoulders, down your arms, grounding you.

“You’re doing so well, dekta.” Her lips caress beneath your ear as you tilt your face slightly to give her more room. “You wanted to make us happy? You’ve already done that. But now, we’re going to return the favour.”

“Yes, please.”

Ntasha reappeared at the edge of the bed, pulling open the nightstand. She revealed soft silk restraints and a familiar-looking vibrator, the one with the deep thudding setting that always made your thighs shake.

“Are you happy using the traffic light system?” she asks simply, eyes locking with yours.

“Yes. I’m very much green,” your pulse is thundering in your chest with anticipation and excitement.

“Good girl,” she purrs, and you nearly melt right then.

Wanda’s red magic shimmers around your wrists as Natasha gently ties them behind your back—not tight, but firm. Secure. You loved it when they handled you like this, firm in a way that was dominating but careful, so you still held firm trust in them.

Wanda was already sliding the straps of your dress down, inch by inch, kissing every bit of newly exposed skin. Her lips ghosted down the side of your throat, collarbone, and breasts. “So gorgeous. All of this, just for us.”

When she rolled one peaked nipple between her fingers and kissed the other, you gasped. When Natasha moved to kneel behind you, pressing the vibrator that was still off between your legs, you moaned, head tipping back onto her shoulder.

“She’s already so wet for us,” Natasha informs Wanda, her voice filled with desire and pain. We haven’t even touched her properly yet.”

“Let her feel it,” Wanda replied, swapping between breasts. “But don’t let her come yet. She needs to bed for it.”

You could feel Natasha grinning against the side of your neck. She turned the toy on—the low, rumbling settled that already had your hips bucking to feel more.

You whimpered pathetically, body trembling, hips twitching helplessly. The vibrations were maddeningly good. But your hands were bound. Your lovers were everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“You’re always so responsive,” Natasha praised, watching your thighs clench over your shoulder. “It’s so fucking sweet.” Her other hand now teased along the slit of your dress, threatening to slip betneath and join where the vibrator rested but never actually moving there, not yet.

Wanda kissed your jaw, her voice soft and dark. “Tell us how it feels, Dekta. Use your words, I want to hear your pretty voice.”

“So-so good. I-it’s so much. Please, touch me more-”

“Where?” Natasha asked, voice playful but sharp. “Tell us what you want.”

You let out a needy whimper. “Inside. I want your fingers, please!”

Natasha finally slips her fingers further beneath your dress, beneaththe slit in the side. One finger slides into you with ease, given how soaked you are. Then another finger is joining, curling just the way you loved. She kept the vibrator pressed to your clit, her other hand gripping your thigh as you keened.

“She’s already pulsing around my fingers,” Natasha grins, almost in awe. “God, I missed this.”

Wanda, behind you, was unzipping her dress now, and you could hear the soft rustle of silk against your skin. She reached around to gently hold your chin, turning your face towards her, and kissing you deeply.

“You make her so soft, Nat,” Wanda says, her fingers grazing from your temple, over your cheeks and chin. “She’s been trembling since she put that dress on.”

“She’s always soft with us,” Natasha replies, still thrusting her fingers deeper now. “Always perfect.”

“Let’s make her fall apart.”

You nearly sobbed at that, whimpering into Wanda’s kiss as the pleasure mounted fast and sharp, your core tightening. Natasha’s fingers were relentless, the vibrator still tumbling in precisely the right place.

“Please! Can I-”

“Not yet,” Wanda demands.

“Not until we say,” Natasha adds, biting where your shoulder and neck slope.

Your body shook with the effort of withholding what you truly wanted. Wanda kisses you again, and when she pulls back, you realise she is slowly riding a toy herself, leaning against the headboard. Her magic still flickers faintly around your skin, holding you in place.

She was moaning softly, eyes glued to you, hand pressed against her breast. That pushed you closer to the edge than anything else. 

Natasha felt it too. She moved faster, curling her fingers just right, her voice rough now. “She’s close, Wands.”

Wanda bit her bottom lip, eyes lidded heavily. “Let her.”

You came hard. Enough to steal your breath as you doubled over, thighs inching to close as wave after wave of pleasure squeezed in your core. Natasha held you through it, her grip never faltering.

Wanda’s voice was soothing as she praised, “That’s it, just like that, good girl, we’ve got you. I love watching you come like that on Nat’s fingers.”

But they weren’t finished. 

“Lie back,” Natasha instructs, untying your wrists. “We’re not done loving you yet.”

Your body had barely recovered from the first orgasm when Natasha lay you down fully against the pillows that smelled faintly of her.

“You really wore that for me?” she asked, voice quieter now, but no less intense as she stroked a finger over the silk material around your waist. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to go out of your way to please me, if it makes you uncomfortable. But, please, I have never been more turned on than seeing you standing there, waiting for me, in this little thing. I fucking love you.”

You meant to say something just as inspiring back about how she desires to be treated, even if it caused you a little anxiety, because the payoff was worth it.

However, all that slipped from your swollen lips was a pathetic little whining at her praises. 

Wanda kneels next to Nat, by your legs, no longer pleasuring herself. A teasing smirk on her face as her magic already flickers through the air again. You felt it brush your thighs, warm, teasing, invisible fingers dragging slowly up the inside of your legs.

“She made me help her choose,” Wanda explained, eyes flicking from your body to Nat. “Tried on our different ones but kept going back to that one. Said Natasha would like this one the most.”

“I do,” Natasha murmured in agreement, biting her lip. “I more than like it. I want to ruin it, I want it on all day every day, bunched around your waist while you scream our names.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, but Wanda was already straddling your trembling thighs. Her magic was holding your arms above your head now, restrained without rope but a glowing red.

“She likes it when you talk like that.” As you arch into the touch, Wanda leans down to press kisses along your collarbone. “It makes her melt.”

“Good because I’m not done with her yet.”

Natasha pulls something else from the drawer, a pink rabbit vibrator, long, firm and curved just right for that perfect pleasure, with a remote she placed in Wanda’s expectant outstretched hand.

Wanda’s smile turns wicked as she licks up the length of your sternum.

“She’s already sensitive,” she continues as she slides the toy between your legs, gently parting your thighs. “She might cry.”

Natasha stroked your cheek again. “Then we’ll make her cry beautifully.”

They didn’t give you much warning. The toy just slid in deep, sending an immediate jolt through your already overstimulated cunt as your body automatically clamped down on it, the dildo part inside and the nub resting against your clit. Before you could beg for anything, Wanda had turned iron.

A shudder tore through your body, a soundless moan on your lips.

The vibrations started deep and slow, as the length of the dildo began to rotate. Wanda, using her mind to manipulate the speed, the rhythm, the intensity, had you arching helplessly against the bed, arms still pinned above you with magic as Natasha leaned over to kiss your ribs, your navel, lower….

“She’s going to break, Wanda,” Natasha whispered, tongue flickering over your inner thigh.

The rhythm changed. Wanda flickered her fingers idly, watching you squirm. Her eyes were molten, locked onto your face, making sure that she didn’t push too hard.

“Look at me,” she says firmly. “I want to see your eyes when you come again.”

You obeyed, barely able to breathe as the pressure builds between your legs. 

Then Natasha is there, licking all around the toy, over your labia, inner thighs, nipping carefully with her sharp teeth to add a slight spark of pain. She was slow and purposeful, while the toy buzzed relentlessly deeper inside you.

“Oh my god- Wanda-Nat, I need, I-!”

“Not yet,” Wanda instructed again, but this time there was a joy in her voice. “You can take more. You’ve already shown us how strong you are. You went shopping, got dressed, and waited all day just to be our good girl. We’re going to give you everything now.”

Natasha bit the inside of your thigh with more force, causing a sting before soothing it with her kiss as your hips try to grind down further on the toy.

“So fucking sweet,” she groans, licking up the wet arousal smothering your lowerhalf. “So fucking perfect. Look how she shakes.”

And you were shaking.  Your legs, chest, and hands still trembling in their magical restraint. But you didn’t want it to stop, savouring every touch, praise, lick and kiss from the women you loved. 

“I did it for you,” you choke out as you try not to come. “I just wanted to be enough. I wanted to make you both proud.”

Your insecure admission has both of your girlfriends freezing for a moment. Wanda’s expression melts instantly, the dominant firmness disappearing in a blink as she eases off from straddling your waist to lie beside you, her hand on your face. “You are always enough. This? This just shows us how much you love us. And we’re going to show you how much we love you.”

Natasha kisses the inside of your wrist as she moves up your body until she’s lying on your other side. “You’re ours. Always.”

Wanda turned the toy to the highest setting. The buzz against your clit and the rotating of the dildo became everything.

Your back bowed off the mattress as the stimulation went from overwhelming to unbearable in the best way. Magic wrapped around your thighs to keep them spread, Wanda pressing soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, as your second orgasm tore through you like burning lightning.

“There it is. Let go for us.”

You did. Crying out, body shuddering violently, your release crashing through you so hard you barely registered the way Natasha whispered soft, endless praise into your skin. Wanda slowly turned the toy off as your chest heaved for air, and the restraints around your wrists and thighs faded away.

“Shh,” wanda soothed, pulling your gently into her ars. “It’s okay.  You’re safe. We’ve got you. You did so fucking good for us, Dekta.”

“I’ve got some water, careful, small sips.” With renewed gentleness, Natasha holds your head up as you sip from the glass in her hand.

You were still shaking, your mind not quite there yet, as you relied on your girlfriends to care for you. They both cleaned you up and held you between them, their lips on your face, their fingers stroking against your arms and legs, massaging the ache away.

You were surrounded, protected.

“Did so well, you’re ours, baby. Always ours.”

“And we’re yours, forever,” Wanda reassures with a kiss.

[lolacelest101]

No Need For Privacy

18+ MDNI

Hii!!! This is my first story or anything like this that I write and publish so I am sure it will be bad. I would love to get your feedback and let me know if I missed anything in the TWs. I am a big fan of F1 and other mainstream spaces so I will try to do more in the future. Also here is Part 2

Happy Reading!

Word Count: 6131

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, Embarrassing moment turn spicy, next door neighbor, close proximity

Smutty tings: wall pinning, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), spanking, oral sex, slight edging, fingering, gagging, praise and degradation kink.

Your POV

I moved to Monaco a week ago with my two best friends from work, Liana and Aaliyah. It’s been a dream come true for all of us, especially since our company launched a new project in the Monaco branch and requested our expertise.

Settling in has been a breeze, mostly thanks to Alexander Qasemi, the top manager of the Monaco office. He has multiple investments in the area and offered to rent out one of his properties to us at a discount. It’s conveniently close to the office, and his wife, Catalina, has been a lifesaver, helping us get set up, showing us around, and pointing out all the spots we need to check out. Coming from Florida, Monaco feels like a mix of Palm Beach and Miami, but it’s still a world apart from Tampa, where we grew up.

The house has three bedrooms, each with its own view from the second floor. We picked rooms based on the views, but I ended up going for the one with extra closet space—even if it has a “boring” view of the street and a direct line of sight into the house next door. And judging by what I’ve seen, the neighbor isn’t big on privacy; I can see right into what looks like the main bedroom.

I wake up to Liana singing loudly to what sounds like a new song by The Weeknd, her voice filling the house. Squinting as sunlight streams into my room, I reluctantly drag myself up and into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, choosing to ignore my messy bed hair. Liana’s door is open, and she spots me staggering around like a zombie.

“Good morning, sunshine!” she shouts, singing along with the song. All I can think is, It’s way too early for this.

I shuffle back to my room and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It flashes 10:32 AM, and panic hits—I remember that Catalina mentioned she’d be here around 10:45 AM to show us more of the area, and she insisted we make time for it.

I rush back into the hallway, suddenly wide awake. “Liana, why didn’t you wake us up? Catalina’s gonna be here any minute!”

Liana smirks and says, “I did, about 30 minutes ago. Aaliyah’s already up and made coffee. You told me I was ‘handsome and sexy’ and asked for five more minutes.” She’s trying not to laugh, and my face goes red as I realize I was probably having an almost wet dream.

“Well… he sure was, wasn’t he?” I say, trying to brush it off. “But we still need to hurry.”

After a quick change into something suitable for the weather, I throw on some black skinny jeans that hug my curves, a short flowy black-and-white striped top, and sneakers.

“Y/N, come down! Catalina’s here,” Aaliyah calls up the stairs.

I see her car pulling up from my window, so I run down to grab a quick sip of coffee before she knocks on the door. Liana’s sitting on the couch, putting her shoes on, and I lean against the counter, downing my coffee like it’s a race. Aaliyah opens the door, greeting Catalina with hugs and kisses. I set my mug down, go over to greet her, and offer to make her a coffee before we start the tour.

Catalina’s dressed in a floral top and white pants, looking like the definition of “aging like fine wine.” Despite being in her 60s, she doesn’t look a day over 40. She radiates warmth, like a grandmother everyone wishes they had.

Liana goes back to grab her phone, and as Catalina and I step outside, we bump into a man with dark hair and intense eyes. Catalina lights up as soon as she sees him, opening her arms for a hug.

“Oh, Max! I didn’t know you’d be here!” she says, surprised, pulling him in for an embrace.

“It was very last-minute for the Monaco GP,” he replies, hugging her back. When he lets go, he glances at me expectantly.

“Max, this is Y/N,” Catalina says. “She moved here a week ago with her friends.”

Max extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to keep my cool. “Nice to meet you. I guess we’ll be running into each other a lot,” I say, smiling.

Holy shit, Max Fewtrell is staying next door! My mind races, and I make a mental note to change my Quadrant phone case ASAP—I don’t want him thinking I’m some obsessive fan.

Max’s voice snaps me back. “Ah, an American accent! Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

I laugh lightly as Liana and Aaliyah join us. I introduce them, and Max shakes their hands before introducing himself.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m not exactly your neighbor, but my best friend lives here, so you’ll probably see him more often than me. Oh—there he is now,” he adds, looking over my shoulder.

My heart skips. The only person this could be is Lando Norris, and I’m about to pretend I’m way cooler than I actually am.

I snap back to see Lando Norris, head down, fiddling with his car keys. When he looks up, he immediately spots Catalina, a smile breaking across his face.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been? I already miss having you as my neighbor,” he says, giving her a hug.

She laughs, “I’ve missed you too, but I brought you some new company, so you won’t miss me too much.” Catalina turns to us with a smile. “Lando, these are the new neighbors: Liana, Aaliyah, and Y/N.”

Lando shakes each of our hands. His grip is firm, his fingers slightly calloused, probably from hours on the simulator. When he gets to me, I feel his gaze linger a bit longer, like he’s trying to place me.

“I don’t mean to sound creepy, but… you’re the one sleeping in that room, right?” He nods toward my bedroom window.

Caught off guard, I stammer, “Uh… yeah, that’s mine. Why?”

A faint blush crosses his face, a sly grin forming as he glances back at me. “You might want to, uh… move your mirror. Just saying.”

It takes a second for the realization to hit, but when it does, I’m mortified. I remember putting my large gold mirror directly across from the window and how, last night, after a long day of rearranging, I decided to… “treat” myself, lights on and all.

My mind races back to that memory—me stripping down, lying on my bed, a vibrator in one hand…

I force myself back to the present, trying to salvage what little dignity I have left. “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone was home over there… It looked empty all week.”

Lando chuckles, his grin widening. “Yeah, I just got back last night. And… well, let’s just say I got quite the welcome back.”

The heat rising in my cheeks is unbearable, and I quickly turn to Catalina. “So, Catalina, you mentioned we have a lot of places to see today?”

I feel Lando’s eyes on me, making my skin prickle with heat.

“Yes! Let’s get going.” Catalina waves goodbye to the guys, and we start heading toward her SUV. As I walk away, I can still feel Lando’s gaze burning into me, like he’s savoring every second of my embarrassment.

-------------------

Later That Night

The night air is warm and slightly humid, with a faint breeze blowing in from the sea. We’d just gotten back from the club, laughing and chattering as we climbed out of the cab. Aaliyah and Liana are still buzzing with energy, but I hang back a bit, enjoying the cool air on my flushed skin.

Liana nudges my shoulder. “We’re going inside to get some water. You good out here?”

I nod, waving them off. “Yeah, I just need a moment to cool down. I’ll be right behind you.”

They head inside, leaving me alone in the quiet of the street. I close my eyes, letting the night’s calm settle around me, when I hear footsteps. I look up, and there’s Lando, standing just a few feet away with Max at his side. Max offers a friendly nod before slipping inside, leaving Lando and me alone on the sidewalk.

“Well, look who it is,” Lando drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Didn’t expect to see you out here this late.”

I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. “Just needed some air. The club was loud.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense. “So, have you moved that mirror yet?”

I feel my cheeks heat up despite the cool night air. “Why do you keep bringing that up?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe because it’s hard to forget. Didn’t realize you were such an exhibitionist, but hey, I’m not complaining.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I didn’t know anyone was watching. And I’m not an exhibitionist.”

He raises an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked pretty comfortable up there, totally absorbed… didn’t even close the blinds.”

The tension between us is thick, the memory of last night making my pulse race. I cross my arms, feeling his gaze linger on me. “Well, you could’ve looked away.”

“Could’ve,” he agrees, stepping even closer until he’s barely a foot away. His voice drops lower, his tone laced with something dark and enticing. “But I didn’t want to.”

A shiver runs through me as his words sink in. We’re standing close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his eyes scanning my face, searching for something. His gaze drops briefly to my lips, and I can feel the air crackling between us, heavy and charged.

I tilt my head, giving him a challenging look. “You get off on watching your neighbors, then?”

His smirk deepens. “Not usually. But you’re not just any neighbor, are you?”

I swallow, feeling my resolve slipping. “And what makes me so special?”

Lando’s hand lifts, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a second too long. “Something about you… can’t quite put my finger on it.”

His voice is rougher now, barely above a whisper. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my breath hitching as his gaze drops to my lips again.

“What are you waiting for, then?” I murmur, my voice betraying a hint of a dare.

He chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down my cheek. “You sure you can handle it?”

I lean forward, closing the space between us just enough that I can feel the heat of his breath against my lips. “I think I can manage.”

Lando’s hand moves to my waist, pulling me a fraction closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “Careful, princess. Once we start, I might not stop.”

His words are a warning, but his eyes tell a different story—one that has me aching to close the distance, to see just how far this tension can go.

Just as Lando leans in, his hand firmly on my waist and his eyes locked on mine, the front door swings open, breaking the moment.

“Y/N!” Aaliyah calls out, her voice bright and oblivious. “You coming? We need you to settle a debate on which of us danced better tonight!”

I pull back, startled, and glance over at the girls standing in the doorway. They don’t notice Lando standing in the shadows just out of their line of sight.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be right in,” I call, trying to keep my voice steady, heart still racing from the almost-kiss.

Lando chuckles softly, his hand slipping from my waist, though his gaze doesn’t leave mine. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans down, his lips grazing my ear, voice low and teasing. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up some other time, hmm?”

My breath catches, and I turn to give him a playful glare, but he’s already smirking, enjoying every second of my flustered expression. I can barely think straight, still caught up in the heated moment we were just sharing.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a promise that has my heart thudding against my chest. He steps back, giving me one last lingering look before turning toward his house. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with that signature smirk.

“Don’t let those blinds stay open tonight,” he says, voice dripping with suggestion. “Or do. Your call.”

I feel a blush rising to my cheeks as he disappears into the darkness, leaving me there with my heart pounding and my mind racing.

I turn back toward the house, trying to regain my composure as I walk inside. Aaliyah and Liana are too caught up in their dance debate to notice the flush on my face or the slight tremble in my hands.

But as I head upstairs, all I can think about is Lando’s words, his hand on my waist, the almost-kiss that left me wanting so much more. That smirk, that challenge—it’s all burned into my mind, and I can still feel the heat of his touch lingering on my skin.

I lie in bed, staring at my mirror across from the window, replaying the night in my mind. And, despite my better judgment, I leave the blinds just a little open.

--------------

The Next Morning

I wake up to a quiet house, the morning sun streaming in through my half-open blinds. Liana and Aaliyah left early to grab some groceries, promising to be back soon, but I decided to stay and sleep in. After a while, though, I find myself wide awake and craving something sweet—specifically, chocolate chip cookies.

I slip into some cozy clothes and head downstairs, popping on some music as I pull ingredients from the cupboards. Soon, the smell of warm cookies fills the air, and I feel a little proud of my spontaneous baking session. Figuring it’d be a nice way to break the ice, I plate a few to bring next door later.

Just as I pull out the last tray from the oven, there’s a knock at the door. I wipe my hands on a towel, open it, and, sure enough, there’s Lando, standing there with his signature smirk.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he says, stepping in before I can even invite him. “Saw the girls head out and figured you’d still be here. Thought you’d sleep all day after last night’s… excitement.”

I feel my cheeks heat instantly, but I roll my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Good morning to you, too. And no, I don’t sleep all day. I’m actually productive.”

He glances at the mixing bowls and cooling cookies. “Productive, huh? Baking cookies for the new neighbors?” He reaches over, snagging one from the plate. “Are these just for me?”

“They’re for the neighbors,” I say, crossing my arms with a smirk. “But you’re welcome to have one.”

He takes a bite, savoring it with an approving nod. “Alright, alright—not bad. Didn’t peg you as a homemaker.”

“I’ve got layers,” I tease, nudging him lightly.

He chuckles, but his gaze drifts around the kitchen, taking in the scattered ingredients and my little baking mess. His eyes eventually settle back on me, a glint of mischief lighting them up.

“So, I gotta ask,” he says, leaning against the counter, “did you actually move that mirror? Or should I go check?”

I feel a flicker of heat under his gaze, but I keep my tone even, hoping he won’t catch on. “Of course I did. You were right—it needed to be moved.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t quite believe you.”

Before I can stop him, he’s already heading for the stairs, and my heart leaps. “Lando!” I laugh nervously, following after him. “You don’t need to go up there!”

“Need to see for myself,” he says over his shoulder, that smirk still on his face. “If you really moved it, then you shouldn’t mind me checking.”

He starts toward the stairs, and I blink, realizing what he means. “Wait, Lando—”

But he’s already halfway up, glancing back with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

I trail him up the stairs, heart racing. The truth is, I didn’t move the mirror—it’s still in the exact same spot, right across from the bed. And now he’s about to see it.

He steps into my room and glances around, his gaze landing on the mirror across from the bed, right where he left it in his memory. The corner of his mouth lifts, and he lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused.

“You didn’t move it,” he murmurs, his voice low and pleased.

I cross my arms, trying to play it off. “I like it where it is. Why should I change it just because you got an eyeful?”

Lando steps closer, his gaze never wavering from mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe I want another one.”

The tension between us thickens, the air electric. He’s close enough now that I can feel his warmth, his gaze dropping to my lips before returning to my eyes. His hand moves up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face, lingering just a moment too long, fingers tracing down my jaw.

“You’re not afraid of a little attention, are you?” he asks, his voice soft, teasing.

I swallow, trying to steady my breathing. “Depends on who’s watching.”

He leans in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tonight… don’t close those blinds. And don’t move that mirror.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and filled with promise. My heart races, every nerve tingling as I meet his gaze, a challenge sparking between us that’s impossible to ignore.

Lando’s fingers linger on my jaw for just a moment longer, then he pulls back, that smirk still on his lips as he steps away.

“Enjoy your cookies, Y/N,” he says, glancing over his shoulder as he heads back downstairs, leaving me standing there, breathless, the echo of his words replaying in my mind.

As I watch him leave, I can still feel the heat of his touch, the thrill of his words searing into my memory. And tonight? Well, let’s just say I don’t plan on closing those blinds.

----------

Later That Night

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting Monaco in a warm, golden glow, I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, adjusting the last few things on my dresser. The blinds are open just enough, casting a soft reflection of the room and inviting in a sliver of the night. I glance over my shoulder at the window, knowing full well who might be watching.

I breathe in, feeling the excitement build. Tonight, I’m ready to give him that “show” he teased me about. I settle onto my bed, relaxing against the pillows, and allow myself to sink into the evening’s quiet. There’s an awareness in the air, the thrill of knowing that maybe, just maybe, I’m being watched.

I reach over to my nightstand, casually bringing out my favorite toys, a purple vibrating dildo and a vibrating toy in the shape of a tongue. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in the moment, all too aware of the tantalizing possibility that Lando might be watching from his window.

Just as I’m truly relaxing into the scene, there’s a firm knock at the door, shattering the silence. My heart jumps as I glance at the door, pulse racing. I hesitate, but something inside pushes me to go see who it is.

I make my way downstairs, opening the door just wide enough to see Lando standing there, his eyes dark, filled with that same mischievous look that’s been driving me crazy. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“You left your blinds open,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with suggestion. “Thought I’d come by and… check on you.”

In one swift motion, he closes the space between us, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me firmly against the wall, his body heat igniting every inch of me. His gaze locks onto mine, daring me to pull away, but there’s no chance I would. He dips his head, his lips grazing my ear as he whispers, “You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I shiver, the thrill of his words sparking something wild and eager between us. His hands roam, fingers slipping under my shirt, exploring every curve as his lips capture mine in a kiss that’s hungry and unapologetic, each movement demanding a response.

As he carries me to the bedroom, there’s an electric anticipation, an unspoken promise that fills the space between us. The moment we reached my room, he pressed me against the wall, his hands firm on my waist, holding me steady. His gaze meets mine in the mirror across from us, dark and intense, every look fueling the thrill building between us.

He leans in, his voice a low murmur against my neck. “You knew I couldn’t stay away, didn’t you?” His words send a shiver through me, and he slides his hands along my waist, drawing me even closer, his touch both possessive and gentle, filled with the heat we’ve been holding back.

“I did—but I didn’t anticipate you barging in at this hour,” I manage to say between kisses, each one feeling more primal than the last. My core seems to have a mind of its own, my hips grinding against him, wanting more. Needing more.

He grins against my lips. “Didn’t take you for the needy type, princess.” He pulls back, sitting on the bed, leaving me craving the contact.

“Well, princess, not everything comes easy,” he murmurs, his gaze growing hungrier. “You teased me, so now it’s time you learn your lesson.”

I rise from his lap, tugging his shirt off in one motion, my hands exploring his toned chest and feeling his muscles tense under my touch. I trail kisses from his jaw down his neck, my lips grazing every inch, each one making my core ache with anticipation.

Sliding to my knees between his thighs, I reach the waistband of his trousers and boxers, sliding them down to let his hard cock spring free. My eyes, full of lust and need, are fixed on him, my mouth craving the feel of him. I waste no time wrapping my hand around his length, bringing my mouth to the tip, letting my tongue swirl slowly around the head before sliding down, inch by inch.

His moans and grunts grow stronger, more primal by the second. His hands grip my hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, giving both of us a clearer view in the mirror.

“Fuck, princess, look at you, being such a good girl for me,” he growls, tilting my head to see his cock sliding deep into my mouth, the tip pressing at the back of my throat. Our eyes meet in the reflection, his grin never fading, eyes bright with satisfaction at the sight.

I try hard not to choke or gag as he picks up the pace, using my mouth for his pleasure. I can feel my own need intensifying, wetness pooling as I slip my free hand between my legs, seeking a hint of relief from the ache.

Just as I feel his cum on my tongue, sliding down my throat, my moans vibrate around his length, making him twitch in my mouth. His gaze shifts to the mirror, catching sight of my hand as I touch myself. In that instant, he releases his hold on my head and pulls his cock from my mouth, leaving a mix of confusion and hunger on my face.

“Princess… did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” Lando leans in, lifting my chin so our faces are close, his breath warm against my lips.

“No, you didn’t,” I reply, a hint of rebellion mixed with anticipation flashing across my face.

“Well, bad girls need punishments, so let me think of something.” An idea lights up his eyes as he guides me up onto the bed, positioning me on my hands and knees, facing the mirror. My mascara has smudged, trailing down my cheeks from the tears shed while he was in my mouth.

Part of me craves for him to finally take me and fill me up, while another part wants to see just what punishment he has in store.

He stands beside the bed and instructs me to keep my ass up and face down, so I adjust to ensure we’re both visible in the mirror. Once I settle, Lando’s hand trails from my hair down the arch of my back and onto my ass. He rubs my cheeks, his fingers dipping lower to feel my wetness, sticky and creamy, dripping onto the mattress.

“Look at you. So wet and needy for me,” he murmurs, bringing two fingers coated in my arousal back to my lips. I open my mouth, ready for a taste, and he slides his fingers in, letting me lick them clean. His breath is warm on my neck as he leans close to whisper in my ear.

“Good girls don’t touch themselves unless I say so.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “But it seems like you might just be my needy little slut instead.”

He steps away, the cool air hitting my sensitive core, sending shivers down my spine and adding a thrill to the moment.

Without warning, a sharp smack lands on one of my ass cheeks, the pain mixing with a tingling heat. He rubs over the reddened spot before delivering another smack, this time to the other side.

“Since you teased me twice, you’ll be getting four spanks—unless I see you haven’t learned your lesson.” He counts, “One,” landing a solid smack, then “Two,” and repeats on both sides. By the time he finishes the fourth, his hand has left my skin bright red, each touch leaving a sensitive, electric throb. A mix of pleasure and pain shows on my face with each strike.

“That’s it, my perfect princess,” he murmurs, brushing his fingertips gently over my sore, reddened skin. “You did so well. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I breathe, arching my back and raising my hips higher, my aching core desperate for attention. A grin spreads across his face as his fingers slip into my folds, rubbing my swollen clit, drawing a moan from my lips with every heavy breath.

Lando’s hunger grows more possessive as he slips a finger inside me, filling my tight heat. The sensation sends my body into overdrive, and the pleasure on his face only fuels the fire inside me. He slides another finger in, his free hand roaming along the curve of my arching spine.

His thumb continues to circle my sensitive clit, his pace quickening as he pumps his fingers in and out, each movement leaving me trembling with need. I bite my lip, trying to muffle my moans, but the pleasure is too much.

“Lando… I’m—close,” I manage to breathe out between gasps and moans.

“Oh, princess, I can see that,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers out of me suddenly, leaving an unbearable emptiness in their wake.

My wetness clings to his fingers in a glistening string as he pulls them away. “Fuck, you look so good on my fingers,” he growls, his gaze fixed on the sight of my arousal. Slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking them clean.

“FUCK. And you taste ten thousand times better.” His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he savors the taste, the heat in the room climbing higher. The sight of him tasting me sends my brain spiraling into bliss, my gaping mouth wordlessly wishing for more.

Moments later, he leans down, his tongue sliding through my folds, the sensation stealing the air from my lungs. He places a light, teasing kiss on my core before beginning to suck and eat every inch of my pussy with eager determination.

“Fuck, you’re addictive, princess,” he murmurs against my entrance, the vibration of his voice making me shiver. His hands grip my ass firmly, spreading me wider, giving him full access to devour me.

His tongue teases my entrance, flicking and dipping inside, making my body twitch and ache for more. My hips start to move on their own, thrusting slightly, begging for him to go deeper.

Without warning, he flips me onto my back, positioning me for a better view. His hands grasp my thighs, and with quick precision, he pulls me to the edge of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he toys with my clit, his fingers circling and pressing before diving back between my legs, tongue working with unrelenting fervor.

“Now this, princess,” he murmurs between kisses and licks, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of my life.”

His words push me closer to the edge, my climax approaching rapidly as my legs begin to tremble. His grip tightens on me, holding me in place, preventing me from pulling away from his relentless mouth. My body shudders suddenly as the wave of relief I’ve been craving washes over me.

My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as I grind against his mouth, riding out every pulse of my orgasm, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I feel my arousal spill into his mouth as he greedily licks and sucks, not letting a single drop go to waste. He stands, his eyes dark and filled with hunger, leaning in to kiss me. The taste of my release lingers on his lips, and I moan softly, lost in the sensation.

His hard cock presses against my core, grinding against me with desperate need, and I instinctively move my hips, craving to feel him inside me. His kiss grows rough and possessive, his hand sliding down from my neck to my breasts. He pinches one of my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through me and drawing a gasp that he swallows into the kiss, his grin wicked and satisfied.

“If my needy princess wants something, she has to ask for it,” he whispers, his lips parting from mine with a teasing grin, his breath warm against my ear.

His hand slides down to my clit, his fingers circling and flicking, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes my lips, my mind struggling to process his words.

“Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want,” he growls, his voice firm yet tantalizing, his fingers working me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me, please,” I murmur, my voice trembling as the heat builds in my core, every nerve in my body begging for him.

“Say that again, princess,” he demands, his tone dripping with playful dominance. “A little louder for me.”

“Fuck! I need you to fuck me—to feel you inside me. Please!” The frustration and raw need are evident in my voice, my body aching for him to claim me.

“That’s my good little slut,” he murmurs, satisfaction clear in his tone. He adjusts himself at my entrance, teasing me for a moment before slowly sliding inside, letting me adjust to his size. The stretch is overwhelming, and my fingers instinctively trail down his back, nails digging in and leaving marks. He jolts forward at the sensation, filling me deeper and making my head fall back, my back arching as I gasp at the sudden invasion.

He growls into my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first. The rhythm shifts, his chest lifting from mine, giving him a full view of my bare body beneath him. One hand slides to my stomach, pressing down lightly as he picks up speed, fucking me harder and faster, his thrusts deep and commanding.

“That’s it, princess,” he growls, his voice raw with pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Let me stretch you just enough to make your pussy become a ring on my cock.” His hips slam into mine with a hunger that matches my own, the sound of our skin meeting echoing through the room.

As his thrusts grow more desperate, his hand reaches for the vibrating tongue toy on the nightstand. Without missing a beat, he presses it against my clit, the sudden overload of sensation making me throw my head back, a loud moan of his name escaping my lips as my hands clutch the sheets for dear life.

A wicked glint of satisfaction flashes across Lando’s face, his grin smug and proud. He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “Princess, as much as your moans are music to my ears, we can’t have your friends interrupting us right now—or finding out that their sweet little friend is such a good slut for the guy next door.”

Before I can respond, he grabs my black lace panties by the bed—the ones I’d removed during my earlier “show”—and gently pushes them into my mouth, muffling my cries of ecstasy as he continues to claim me.

My pussy clenches and twitches around his cock as his thrusts grow wetter, the sound of our movements filling the room. My orgasm teeters on the edge, his cum seeping into me, intensifying the sensation.

His growls and moans grow deeper and more primal. “Fuck, princess, you must be close,” he murmurs, his face satisfied as he watches my trembling legs and the euphoria written all over my face.

My muffled cries escape past the panties still in my mouth, vibrating softly in the heated air. “Cum for me, princess,” Lando commands, thrusting into me twice more. His words send me hurtling into my second orgasm of the night, my body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure consume me.

Lando’s thrusts grow sloppy, his grip on my waist tightening as he buries himself deep inside me. My pussy milks every last drop of his release, the warmth of his cum splashing against my inner walls. With a low growl, he slides out of me, both of our arousals dripping down my thighs and pooling onto the mattress.

He steps back, his eyes lighting up as he takes in the sight of my used, naked body, glistening and dripping with his cum. Slowly, his gaze traces every inch of me, savoring the evidence of what we’d just done.

“You know,” he says, his voice still thick with lust, “I might want this view every hour of the day from now on.” His tone is intoxicating, and he steps closer, gently removing the panties from my mouth before placing a soft kiss on my lips. “What do you think? You agree?” His smirk deepens, a dimple just beginning to peek through.

“I think that can be arranged,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his neck, a cheeky smile spreading across my face.

“Perfect,” he says, brushing his lips along my skin in a trail of butterfly kisses. “Let me start a shower for you, and then you can get some rest.” His voice is softer now, but still filled with care.

As he moves toward the bathroom, I pull myself up onto shaky feet, my body sore in all the best ways. Each ache is a reminder of every moment we’d just shared. I follow him, leaning on the sink in front of the mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection—flushed, satisfied, and completely undone. The sensation of his cum still seeping out of me draws my attention, and I can’t help but slide a finger down to catch a drop, bringing it to my lips. I shut my eyes, savoring the taste.

Fuck, I need more.

Lando calls to me, his voice echoing softly under the sound of the shower. I walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he turns to face me. Pulling him into a sensual kiss, I whisper against his lips, “Are you up for a round two?” A glimmer of mischief dances in my eyes.

Lando grins at my request, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. Leaning close, he murmurs under the steam of the shower, “I could never deny you a request like that, princess.”

The End

[marlynnofmany]

Similar Skill Sets

“Aw, man,” I muttered, staring at the board game. “Was it this one or that one? I was trying to get over here, but you moved that row. I think it’s this one?” My finger hovered over the switch on one nearly-identical tile among many.

Captain Sunlight gave away nothing, her scaly yellow face serene. “Make your move.”

“It already smells like a flower shop threw up in here.” I struggled with the switch, my human fingernail barely up to the task usually meant for Heatseeker claws. When it finally clicked, the tile spurted a weak jet of scent. This one smelled more leafy than flowery, but I still had no flaming idea if it was the one I was trying to find. I sniffed the scent compartment of the token I’d drawn, hoping they matched. Leafy? Vines, maybe?

“I’m sorry it’s such an old model,” said Captain Sunlight, taking pity on me and drawing her next token. “The scents are fainter than they should be. Maybe we can get replacement cartridges at the next station.”

I sighed as I watched her make three moves in a row, matching up scented tiles and rearranging the maze of the board until I’d lost all idea of where my target was. “Somehow I don’t think that would help.”

She sat back, idly spinning the last token she needed to find. “I wonder if there’s a model with scents from your planet. This is a pretty popular game; it only makes sense that they would branch out.”

“Maybe.” I stared at the maze, plotting pathways and trying to find a target that I could reach in a single turn. My odds weren’t great that it would be the right one, but that was better than nothing. “I’d probably be able to tell them apart better if they were things like cinnamon and citrus, but if the game makers just went for all flowers there too, I’d still be guessing. It’s not my area of expertise.” I shifted a row and moved my piece, then spent a moment trying once again to identify a scent.

“That’s the one you tried last time,” Captain Sunlight told me, dashing all hopes. Her next move was swift and decisive, countering the detour I’d just thrown in her path. She set her final token on the stack of others and waggled her fingers in silent triumph.

I slumped against the backrest. “This is definitely not my game.”

The captain began disassembling the board. “How about you pick the next one?”

“My pleasure,” I said in relief, immediately moving toward the entertainment cabinet. This lounge was well stocked after our last stop. “Want to do a puzzle?”

“What kind? Cube, sphere, string?”

“Uh, the regular flat kind,” I said, holding up the box. It showed a lovely nature scene (waterfall), a piece count (100), and a planet of origin (Earth).

“That sounds refreshingly different,” said Captain Sunlight. She carefully fitted the scent tiles into their insulated compartment. “Competitive or cooperative?”

“Cooperative,” I said, bringing it over to the table while she finished putting away the other game. “Though I suppose there’s room for trash talk about who’s working faster.”

“How very considerate. Have you played this with Trrili or Zhee yet?”

“Not yet,” I said with a smile, easily able to imagine the amount of agitated hissing and pincher clicks that would come from a competitive game between those two. “This one’s new. I was thinking Blip and Blop might like it.” The Frillian twins were also competitive, though they worked well together. I had no idea if they were any good at puzzles.

Time to see if the captain was. She set aside the other box and I opened this one, spilling the hundred puzzle pieces onto the table and getting to work flipping them over.

Captain Sunlight followed my lead. “So is the goal to assemble them in a certain pattern?”

“Yeah, they make up this picture.” I pointed at the box. “It’s easiest once they’re all color-side up.”

“I see,” she said, as focused as if she was studying a new trade language. “How long do you expect this round to take?”

“This one should be pretty quick,” I told her. “It’s just a hundred pieces, and a lot of different colors. If this was a picture of a green field with a blue sky and not much else, that would be a lot more annoying.”

“Seems like that would be less to keep track of.”

“Sure, but fewer clues about where things go.” I held up a fragment of vivid purple. “This one, for example, can only go in the corner. No mystery there.” I pointed out the matching flower on the box.

Captain Sunlight nodded, still looking serious. “Right. Deduction. So do we take turns?”

“Nah, that would take too long. It’s more fun just to go for it. Unless you want to make it harder?”

“No no, the regular way is fine.” She hurried to flip over the last few, then looked at me and waited.

“Righto. The best way to start is by finding the corners first, then the edges. It narrows things down. Do you see any corners? Here’s one.”

We began. It really was an easy puzzle, but I could see the captain was struggling. This was a surprise, to say the least. Sunlight was smart. Always thinking ahead, clever and levelheaded and full of insights, but she seemed to have trouble guessing which direction a piece should go, even when it was perfectly obvious to me.

“Oh hey,” I said. “I was looking for that one. It goes right here.”

“This way?”

“Turn it so the sticking-out bit goes … yeah, like that.”

“And is this one also part of this red patch?”

“No, that one has smaller red petals; it belongs in the other spot. I JUST saw the piece that fits it, too; that was overrrrr… Here it is!” I plucked it out of the mess and Captain Sunlight handed me the other piece, letting me put them where they belonged.

I suggested, “See if you can find all the speckled blue ones, and we can fill in this area.”

She gamely searched for blue among the chaos of colors, visibly scanning pieces one at a time with concentration on her lizardy face. I hesitated over whether to pretend I couldn’t see all five of the pieces we needed, or to speed things up. I settled on grabbing material for the grassy area nearby, only picking out the last blue one when she’d found the rest.

This turned into a pattern of me asking for pieces in a certain color, which she gathered slowly and I assembled. The puzzle took about three times as long to finish as I’d thought.

“Success!” the captain said as she clicked the last piece into place. (I’d left it for her to do the honors.) “That was surprisingly challenging. I must say, I’m glad it wasn’t competitive.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t have lost as badly as I did in that last game,” I said, lying through my human teeth.

“That’s kind of you to say,” she told me. “I do wonder how some of the rest of the crew would take to this, though. Mur is always looking for a difficult game he can excel at.”

“Because you usually beat him?” I guessed with a grin, quieting when I picked up the sound of tentacles approaching down the hallway.

A blue-black squid head appeared around the corner. “I hear it’s game time in here!” Mur declared. “And we have new puzzles after the last stop.”

“Do you mean this puzzle?” I asked, gesturing at the completed waterfall. “Lemme just take it back apart—”

Mur ignored me, tentacle-walking over to fling open the cabinet and reach in. “These puzzles!” he exclaimed, pulling out several Strongarm puzzle cubes. “We’ve got a range of difficulty levels here. These two are unsuited to fingers, but I imagine you poor souls with no tentacles could manage one of these!”

He lined them up along the edge of the table with all the flair of a children’s magician, or maybe an older sibling who was looking forward to seeing the younger kids suffer. Since I’d been subjected to the Strongarm version of a “simple kid’s challenge” before and nearly dislocated something, that seemed appropriate.

I sighed and exchanged looks with Captain Sunlight. She didn’t seem particularly excited either.

Then more tentacles slapped down the hall, and Wio joined us. “Hey! Kavlae says it’s puzzle time! I told Mimi to take a break from the tool-sorting he’s been doing, and we can see who’s puzzle master today.”

The look I exchanged with Captain Sunlight now was different. “Let me just clear the table for you,” I said, picking up the puzzle box.

“Yes, by all means,” said the captain. “You can have my chair.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[bigfan-fanfic]

A Delving Song (Monster!Reader x Laios Touden)

Could I request a Laios fic where he meets a new monster, your choice, that is surprisingly sentient who joins the party? I just think it would be cute and fluffy.

Laios tilted his head. That didn't sound like the normal song the sirens on this floor of the dungeon would sing.

Marcille and Chilchuck are still asleep. And Senshi's off checking his golem farms.

So Laios wanders off towards the pool of water where you sit.

It's a ways off from typical mermaid territory.

And you yourself seem different from other mermaids. Your lower half is covered in feathers, not scales, and you have small wings protruding from your back.

"To eat is the privilege of the living... all things must eat to survive..."

Laios looks at you, in awe as you continue to sing a song of resilience and endurance. He's absolutely enchanted. And he quickly opens his mouth to sing with you once he memorizes the simple tune.

You startle badly, yelping, and waving your arms, summoning streams of waters like vipers to rise around you.

"Whoa! Please, I didn't mean any harm. I just really liked your song."

You frown. "Tallmen like you don't sing. They attack."

Laios puts down his sword. "See? No attacking."

"You're... different."

Laios grins and nods. "That's right. You see... I wanna know more about creatures like you. Are you a mermaid? You seem to be similar and different."

"I think your kind calls me a siren. But most of us get hunted, because our songs can be dangerous. We have some control over water too."

"That's incredible. Do you come up with your own songs?"

"We sing the tune - others seem to hear what they really want to hear. Unlike mermaids, the charming of it all seems to come from the prey."

"Why are you all alone?" Laios asks bluntly, tilting his head when your face falls.

"My flock were... hunted by a group of tallmen. I escaped. The mermaids don't want me because we bring adventurers that kill."

Laios frowns. "Well, that's no good. Maybe... maybe you could come with our group. I'm sure once they hear you speak and reason, they'll have no problem."

You smile sharp teeth at the tallman. "What are you called?"

"Laios."

You let the water slip down into the pool and move forward in a crouch, finally pressing your head into his metallic stomach. "Thank you, Laios."

Chilchuck is the most suspicious of you, clearly not happy with the idea of letting a monster into the party. Even a clearly reasoning and thinking one like you.

Marcille is a bit more welcoming, especially as she hopes you can teach her some of your water magic.

Laios initially thinks you're amphibious like a fishman but as you don't breathe water it becomes clear you're more of a bird than anything else.

Marcille immediately shuts down any further discussion because she senses it getting uncomfortably close to figuring out what exactly you taste like.

But considering you grew up in the dungeon, your expertise makes travel much easier. Senshi also is able to take some extra parts of monsters the party has collected to make some water skins for you to carry water through the more dry areas for you to use as a weapon.

Laios is always eager to hear about monster culture - just as you are about the cultures of the surface. Marcille and Laios spend many meal breaks discussing with you about what your lives and daily activities are like

Chilchuck doesn't share, but then again he also doesn't share with anyone else, so it's not like it's an anti-monster sentiment.

But eventually you find yourself nestling close to Laios when it's time to rest for the night.

And one night, when he rolls over and rests his head in your feathers, you don't mind. You like the tallman and his unique opinions.

And perhaps these feelings may soon grow and evolve.

Until then, the party together shall eat, and almost more than their meals, their growing friendship is delicious.

Delicious in dungeon.

[let-spretend]

hey…. so i’m back to rid of the urge to write a bob x reader ..

i will keep writing until my creative juices run out !!!! second part in the works !!!!

edit: i got rid of the weirdly big spaces but idk if it looks worse now

heavy space between us pt. 1 (bob x reader)

The New Avengers' paperwork lines the communal table, you, diligently filling it out for the team. It had been a bit of a blur the past few months, being thrown into this new team and working together to protect citizens. It gave you a new purpose, rather than the necessary killings you needed to do to protect yourself, you could channel that expertise for the benefit of good and getting paid. But, you were simply getting tired. Physically straining yourself everyday: practicing, training, working out and doing your hero job, it was starting to catch up to you. Though the others have experienced many of the hurt you have, it was difficult to open up to them and you felt yourself lagging behind, despite the Void incident bringing you a bit closer. You were the only one still reluctant to share your past fully to the team. They knew and you knew it as well. Throwing yourself into work helped you feel connected with them in a way, and deserving of this position.

You punch in some numbers into the calculator about some living costs and upcoming expenses that need to be made. Your left hand meets your hair, scratching at it as some stress reliever. It feels warm.

Soft shuffling could be heard to your left, indicating someone approaching the dining area you were occupying. “Y/N?” Bob asks, groggily. You turn to see him rubbing his eyes, adjusting to the half-dimmed lights over the dining table. His hair was disheveled, him still in his simple matching PJ set. You cock your head to the right, wondering why he was awake this early in the morning.

“What’s up?” You say. “Just workin’ on some taxes and other things.” His eyes trail over to the mess of papers and slightly ajar laptop.

“Do you.. want some help?” He asks. His voice was now much clearer, a sign he’d woken up indubitably. He looked hesitant about asking, afraid of being pushed away like he constantly was. But you remember him always wanting and willing to help around the tower. This, being one of the rare things he could actually help with. You honestly didn’t want him to. Not in the sense that he’d slow you down or otherwise, but this extra work and feeling like you were contributing, was all you had right now. You look down at the papers. Still so much left to do.

Though your sense of contentment would be diminished, you realize he was feeling and thinking the same way you do.

“Sure. Come here.” You beckon. His mouth contorts into a content smile and happily takes the seat next to you. “We have to calculate our incomes, health insurance, assets, etc. for our AGI. If we’re eligible, use the IRS’ tax software with my laptop. Sound good?” He nods silently and gets straight to work. You stand up and he looks over to you, assuming you’re going to leave him. His eyebrows knit together a bit, confused. “I’m just going to make coffee for us, don’t worry.” You coolly state.

He gets a bit sheepish, for you having figured him out. So you give him a small smile.

Everything felt a bit fuzzy while you were putting together the coffee. You were sure as soon as you got a sip in you would be fine. You were brewing up a simple Americano for yourself, first putting the hot water into your cup. The sound of the boiled water hitting the bottom of the mug lulls you.

You don’t notice your hand burning until it begins to sting. You peer down to see your left hand directly on the kettle. Slowly removing your hand, the palm appeared red. Huh, I should've instinctively.. “Uh, cold brew, right?” You ask, with uncertainty laced in your guess. You decide to just ignore that mishap. You just need to get the coffee done.

The top of his head becomes his face, his side bangs covering his eyes. He brushes them out his face with his right hand, pencil still in grip.

”Yeah! I’m surprised you remember.” He laughs.

Toward the beginning of the new team formation of “The New Avengerz,” you all had gotten roughed up by some sort of villain attack on the city. Bob had offered to get you all coffee to lighten up the mood. You shrug a tiny bit, remembering that day. He really is just someone nice to have around.

You really didn’t care to measure, lazily filling in the portafilter and locking it into place for your Americano. You peer into the fridge for Bob’s cold brew and sigh. No cold foam.. You were just going to skip it and just serve it to him blank, but his hard-working form makes your body do otherwise. His back slightly hunched, engrossed in working for the team. Sighing again, you take the heavy cream and milk out of the fridge and eyeball their measurements into a cup. Substituting vanilla syrup with some extract, you stir it with a spoon gently. You never said it was going to be good, or even ideal. You mentally faceplant, looking at the almost whipped texture.

Tamping your coffee clumsily, you place it back into the machine once more, starting the shot. Your hand feels as if it were beeping, reminding you of its mild burn. You watch the coffee begin to pour into the cup, lightly splashing as it meets the hot water. The once clear water begins to turn into a soft brown, the aroma of fresh coffee hitting your nose. It smelled like this in the coffee shop Bob took you all to.

“It smells really good, Y/N!” He comments. It brings you out of your trance and reminds you to finish making his drink. You briefly look over to him to acknowledge his comment. Taking out a tall glass, you pour his cold brew and top it with the mildly sweet cold “foam”. It sat with a little curl on the top.

Your espresso was beginning to blond, so you stopped yours and grabbed them both to the table. It stung to even hold the handle to your mug.

“Wow, it looks so good!” Bob says, happily taking the cold brew from you. He takes a second to admire the generous amount of cream. He takes a little sip and widens his eyes to show you it was delicious. “Thank you so much, Y/N.” You try to look at his eyes, but the cold foam on his upper lip distracts you greatly. He looks at your distracted eyes, searching for where your attention was. You could see his face visibly flush from your staring.

“Something on my face?” He stutters. Bob’s left hand reaches for his cheek as he attempts to get rid of whatever you were looking at. Instinctively, your right hand goes to his lip to wipe off the cold foam. His whole body stiffens, his eyes on your hand.

“Got it.” You say.

Looking at your finger, you realize you never got the chance to taste your concoction. Licking the foam off your finger, it was a little on the sweeter side. You didn’t mind it though.

“Haah.. Right. Thank you.” He darts his eyes away, continuing sipping on his drink.

-

Even with the cold brew reinforcement, sleep had won over Bob’s body. There were still a couple more documents that needed to be filled out, but the throbbing in your hand was becoming too much. First, draping a small blanket over Bob’s shoulders, you stroll over to the bathroom. A small medkit was hiding behind the mirror over the sink, where you had last supplied it. Mainly for the others.

The antibiotic ointment felt cool on your hand, contrary to how it felt wrapping it. It was weird. It obviously hurt, but it felt oddly freeing, reminding you why you were still here and serving along with your team. Squeezing your left fulfilled this urge. Not good.

You return to Bob still soundly sleeping on the table. You squeeze your fist a bit. You want to try harder for him, the team. You scootch into the chair as quietly as you could without moving it. He stirs a bit when you shuffle the papers, but remains asleep. The finished papers were in a neat pile, done by Bob. Without him, it would’ve taken you an extra day to finish. The few that littered the table motivated you to keep on going this stretch.

When you finished up, it was about 5 in the morning and the others would soon begin their routines. Wanting to let Bob get a few more hours of sleep in, you carefully lift him up into the air. Your power was to control and manipulate blood. It normally didn’t take so much effort to do so, but a strain was beginning to form in your mind. Despite the nuisance, he continues to float over to his bedroom, landing softly into his bed. You could tell he was in a completely relaxed mood by his palpitations. Feeling the blood coursing through his veins, it signaled his livelihood. Though, he always felt awfully heavy, you assume due to his added void personality.

He snuggles into his familiar bedding subconsciously, you covering his body with his light gray duvet. It was weird. You felt warm again.

“What are you doing?”

You turn around to see Yelena peering into Bob’s room. Rather than her usual suited getup, she was in workout clothes. She made no footsteps, deeply contrasting Bob’s slight drags of feet when he entered the dining room. She must’ve been the reason you felt something was off.

“He was helping with the paperwork. Fell asleep doin’ ‘em.” You say.

Yelena’s reaction seemed as though disappointed but still suspicious, as if she were trying to catch you in an embarrassing act. You never really found these “miscommunications” embarrassing because they simply weren’t true and you stood on that.

“Bucky wanted me to tell you, you have a mission with him and my father in 10 minutes. Sudden reports of a disturbance in the upstate area.” Yelena reports. You nod, thanking her for the heads up. She looks down to your bandaged hand and questions if you were in optimal shape for the sudden mission. “We Powerless need to be in our best condition in order to keep ourselves and others safe.

”Well, it’s not supposed to be urgent or dire, right? I have Bucky and Alexi, don’t worry.” Waving her off. She sighs. You forget you haven’t told or revealed your powers to anyone in the group yet. You hadn’t found the need to, your hand-to-hand being one of your more controlled and trained traits.

With what came with your powers, was self-destruction. Lifting one living person barely needed thought until you straight on stopped using them unless necessary. Where your powers are at their most optimal, was complete exposure and vulnerability - freshly drawn blood. Blood when contained in the body or other containments, means extra weight and concentration. Though you say you can only lift one person now, when you were at your peak, killing, anything conceivable was possible. Your powers came with the need to access fresh blood as much as you could for your benefit. To be cut when you need to. To be willing to.

There was only one person always at your disposal to do so. But it’s not like you really had a choice, was there?

[pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882]

a little comparison of our storm king candidates talking to orotine at the ball

first: tarvek

so we only get a brief glimpse of their interaction, but right away Tarvek not only recognizes her, but knows exactly which muse she is. Aside from lineage, Tarvek's relationship with the muses is probably his strongest claim to the lightning crown. he seems to really genuinely love and revere them [in the next panel seffie overhears him squealing<3] which makes him suggesting orotine talk to gil later a pretty significant gesture

but even more interesting is how Orotine addresses him. As a prince, his correct styling would be "your highness", but instead she calls him "your majesty", a form of address almost exclusively reserved for *monarchs*. so that's pretty big for his claim!

next: martellus

no respect! Martellus immediately starts trying to pull rank and assert his authority, then he asks "which one are you?" which is a rather brusque way to phrase the question! also, if your whole deal is trying to ascend to the lightning crown, it would probably behoove ypu to know things about the muses given how central they are to the storm king legend. he seems to view their support as a given rather than something he has to earn.

Of course Orotine politely smacks him back down to earth, beginning by addressing him as "your highness" not "your majesty", then revealing that the race for the crown is not just between him and tarvek; there are more options [and of those options tweedle is losing]. no matter his political alliances or threats of force, he will require more than that to truly earn the title.

last but most squertainly not least: gil

Orotine styles Gil as "herr baron", nothing notable ab this one as that is his correct and publicly acknowledged title [tho i will footnote that traditionally a lord/lady would be addressed by thier highest title since historically it was common for nobles to hold multiple titles, and technically for gil this would be "your highness" as revealed by Boris but in practice his actual power comes from the empire's holdings and the the title that comes w that is baron, even though its technically a lower rank.] that was a long footnote who said that

Gil treats her with the same polite friendliness he does with the other party guests, respecting her as a person. There's even light discussion of scheming, the core of any friendly political conversation.

And here's where we can really contrast him with martellus: Gil is not actively vying for the storm king title, so its natural that he doesnt necessarily all of the muses, but when he asks, he says "and may i know which muse you are?" a way to phrase the question which is not completely rude, take notes tweedle!

Gil defers to her area of expertise and ask for advice, but in bringing up the storm king acknowledges her right to refuse, giving her a polite way out.

And what a response Orotine gives! not just stating her purpose but that she would be *happy* to advise him. Tacitly but strongly acknowledging his claim to the lightning crown and therefore her potential allegiance!

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁

you have a choice. you can stay in the room where you are the best, where people rely on you, turn to you to learn, to improve. you can satisfy your ego and bask in the awareness that no one is above you.

or you can step into the room where you are not the best — where, in fact, you might be the worst at what you do. you can finally realize that there will always be someone better than you, humble yourself, cry, and wallow in self-pity.

you can remain in the room where you are praised and admired, or you can surround yourself with people who are better and more experienced than you. you can accept that there’s still a long way to go, that your talent and effort are nowhere near enough, and struggle to keep up with those who are truly better than you. then — and only then — you can unlock your true potential.

it is only by believing you’re far behind others that you’ll improve more than you ever thought possible.

why discomfort breeds growth

studies show that we grow most when we step outside of our comfort zones. according to a study published in the « journal of experimental psychology », being exposed to challenging and unfamiliar tasks increases brain plasticity, the brain's ability to adapt and develop new neural pathways. when you’re the “worst” in the room, your brain is forced to engage, learn, and adapt — activating areas responsible for problem-solving and critical thinking.

the “zone of proximal development”

lev vygotsky, a developmental psychologist, introduced the concept of the "zone of proximal development" (zpd) — the sweet spot where tasks are just beyond your current abilities. learning happens most effectively within this zone, but only if you're willing to confront challenges head-on. surrounding yourself with people who are more skilled or experienced than you puts you directly into this zone.

embracing failure as a learning tool

a 2011 study by ayelet fishbach and lauren eskreis-winkler, published in the journal of experimental social psychology, highlighted that experiencing failure can actually improve motivation and learning. the researchers found that when individuals interpret failure as an opportunity to learn rather than a threat to their ego, they develop greater resilience and determination in achieving their goals. this approach transforms the initial discomfort of not being the best into a powerful driver for personal growth.

how to start stepping into the “hard” rooms

adopt a growth mindset: psychologist carol dweck's research highlights the power of a growth mindset — believing that skills and intelligence can improve with effort. view every setback as an opportunity to learn.

reframe comparisons: instead of feeling inadequate when others outperform you, see them as resources. ask questions, learn from their methods, and let their expertise challenge you.

set stretch goals: aim for targets that feel slightly out of reach. they should scare you just enough to make you uncomfortable — but also excited to try.

stepping into the room where you’re not the best is scary. it might hurt your pride. but science is clear: true growth comes from struggle, humility, and persistence. the next time you feel like you're the worst in the room, remember — you're in the perfect place to unlock your potential.

guys i really hope this makes sense because my english is broken this days. also it's exam season, so i'm taking my exams in spanish. my brain seems settled on my third language and i can't easily switch back to english. this days i can't even speak italian properly ush.

[rey-129-fan]

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU Part 3

Part 1 | Previous | Next

“Hola beauties, and welcome back to Fashionable History, I’m Paulina,”

“And I’m Star, and on this channel, we teach you how to be at the height of fashion, no matter what time period you find yourself in.”

“Now for our long-time viewers who missed our community posts, you might be wondering about the change in location.  Well, we are moving up in the world.  That’s right, fam, we are officially-

“College girlies!” The two shouted into the camera.

“Ah, such a big step,” ‘Star’ sighed.

“Indeed it is.  And to celebrate, let us dress up like we’re going to meet the queen of fashion herself: Marie Antoinette!”

***

“So you would think it would be hard to demonstrate Amity Park’s weirdness while no longer living there, but you would be wrong,” a black man said into the camera while walking down a hallway, his glasses fallen ever so slightly down his nose.  There were voices in the background progressively getting louder.  “You see, Danny’s mentor popped by this morning, and apparently, he decided that the perfect way to tutor Danny and piss off his bosses at the same time was to allow a bunch of college kids to summon a historical figure of their choosing to discuss their area of expertise.  Once a week.

“Jazz got to go first.”

The black man stopped in a doorway.  Much clearer in the background was a woman’s even voice.  “And Jazz, being the future psychologist that she is, picked the most sex-obsessed man in history.”

The camera flipped to show a young red-head sitting across an older man with a white beard in a blue three piece suit.  In the background was a younger man, his blue eyes glazed over as he sat there sipping from his mug, his head of black hair bobbing as he fought to stay awake.  Really, it wouldn’t gather a second glance, except for the tiny detail that the older man’s skin was as green as a sunburnt person’s was red.

“-indeed homosexuality is not an illness, and in fact the only link between it and mental health has been observed to be caused by familial and community reactions.”

“That is good to hear.  Indeed, many people throughout history were homosexual, and a lot of them did not show any other signs of mental illnesses.”

“It is.  However, with the recent pushes for public acceptance of those not heterosexual, many have come forward with sexual orientations beyond just hetero and homosexuality, including those that are attracted to both men and women at the same time, as well as those who experience no sexual attraction or are completely repulsed by the idea of anything sexual.”

The camera flipped back to the first man.  “She is explaining how psychology has developed in the last 100 years without trying to rip apart Freud’s work.

“This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened.  Occasionally, we’d get guest speakers that would turn out to be some famous author or pioneer in their field.  It’s how our English teacher got his copy of the Tempest signed by the original author.  I think this might be the first one that won’t end in a raid by government idiots in white, though.

“So yeah, we occasionally get to talk to dead celebrities and don’t bat an eye at it.  Amity Park is very weird.”

***

“Danny!  You left your cups in the sink again!”

“How can you tell it’s mine?”

“They’re glowing green and you’re the only one that drinks ectoplasm!  Now take care of them before you bring the food to life again!”

“Fine…”

The camera pans over to a goth woman giving the camera a flat look.  On screen, there’s some text that reads: ‘When your boyfriend forgets to clean off his dishes after his mildly radioactive smoothies.’

***

“Urgh!” Just die you stupid, lazy skeleton!”

“How long is this attack going to be!”

“I don’t care, because when it’s finally my turn, I am going to stab the dust out of this depressed sack of bones!”

On screen was a couch, and on that couch sat 3 young adults, two women and one man.  One of the women was Valarie Gray, US National Taekwondo Silver Medalist, was jabbing her thumb down on the d-pad of her controller, lips pulled back in a snarl.  The other was Samantha Manson, more known for the TikTok channel Our Strange Lives.  The man was a muscular blond.  All three were focusing on the screen, their eyes emitting faint light and Valarie’s teeth seemed to be getting sharper.

Quietly a blond woman walked on screen, a backpack slung over her shoulder.  The woman was Star Strong from Fashionable History.

“You guys are still streaming?”

“This boss is stupid difficult and Manson and Gray are the only ones willing to play.”

“What happened to the guys?”

“Fowley, Wes, Singh all had work.  Fenton got to the first boss and then lost it because ‘Goat Mom just wanted to protect us’ before getting a call from his lil sis asking for help.  Kwan is working on a lab with a guy from his chem class, and Kyle passed out a couple hours ago.”

“Stop dodging!”

“Wanna play?”

“Can’t.  Going to the library to study for a calc exam I have coming up.  See you guys later.”

“Later.”

“FUC-”

***

“And so, with this polaroid image, we have evidence to prove that-”

“Hey, Wes, do you have something I can use for a collage?  Oh sweet, thanks bro!”

“What?  No!  Kyle!  Get back with that! That was the proof I was going to use to prove the existence of Yetis!”

“Oh damn.  This is some nice creature work!  Danny, your friend has an incredible costume, man!”

“Thanks, Kyle!  I’ll pass it on!”

***

Tim paused the video right as Wesley Weston stood to chase his older brother.

There.

The red-head’s eyes had a slight glow to them.  Tim clicked over to the other images he had gathered of the Amity Park teens, all with their eyes glowing or other signs of something inhuman.

Tim had been introduced to this group by Stephanie when she found a martial arts demonstration Gray did that involved breaking multiple boards, all several feet above her head.  Stephanie had meant it as a ‘check out his cool person doing what we’re doing,’ but Tim noticed something.  All the boards were being held by seemingly the same person- or at least people dressed very similarly.  And not in a way where they’re sitting on a ledge above Gray and are switching out the board each time she broke one.  More that there were multiple companies of the same white glove all holding a board and all floating several feet above where they should have been.  That was already a little weird, but it could’ve been some special effects or just a uniform.

No, what caught Tim’s attention was the quick glimpse of the face of one of the board holders.  It was youthful- late teens- but with paper white hair that showed no signs of bleaching.  Now these features would have been a thing to cement the mysterious person in Tim’s mind.  But it wasn’t that.

No, what got Tim to do some digging to find out about a previously unknown supposed hero from a small town that has been blacked-out by the US government, was his eyes.

His calm, glowing Lazarus green eyes.

***

So we finally get a taste for the shenanigans our liminals are up to. Sam, Tucker, and Danny all share a TikTok where they show off how weird the other two are and how weird their town is. Wes is trying to prove cryptids exist, which Kyle ruins. Dash has a gaming stream that most often Kwan joins in on, and Paulina and Star do dress history. Oh, and Valarie is a national taekwondo because karate has only been an event for one Olympic games, but taekwondo has been an event since 2000 and Val seems more like a kicker than a thrower. Plus, I actually took taekwondo when I was younger.

We do get another Bat showing up at the end. There is absolutely no plot, however, so who knows where this is going. Certainly not me!

I'm still looking for names (please, I need them). As for majors:

Jazz-Psych (obviously)

Kyle- Liberal Arts (I wanna put him in accounting, but Liberal Arts works for now)

Tuck- Comp Sci

Danny- Poly Sci, minor in Astronomy

Sam- Double Poly Sci and Environmental Science

Val- Criminal Justice

Dash- Undecided (both me and him)

Kwan- Pre-Med for now, though he wants to do Child Development/Education

Paulina- Fashion Marketing

Star- Sports Science

Mikey- Music

Wes- Journalism

[daresplaining]

How good of a lawyer is Matt in the comics?

Matt is a very talented, highly respected lawyer, and this has been true since pretty much the very beginning. Is he an ethical lawyer? Hell no. Matt respects the justice system but also thinks the rules don't apply to him, and he's been disbarred twice; the first time was due to the Kingpin's meddling, so we can give him a pass on that, but the second time was for his many, many, many Daredevil-related ethics violations.

But when it comes to sheer skill, cleverness, and panache, Matt is great at what he does and has built up a reputation that reflects this. As early as Daredevil volume 1 #20, the Owl held a mock trial to punish a judge who had given him jail time, and to make things "official", kidnapped "the most talented trial lawyer of our day" to represent the defendant:

Daredevil vol. 1 #20 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, Artie Simek, and Frank Giacoia

(Matt ended up using his wits to convince the Owl to let him leave the room unaccompanied, then came back in as Daredevil and beat everyone up. Which is kind of a perfect summary of his career.)

Over the years there have been many stories of Matt's triumphs in court, emphasizing his skill, passion, and fearlessness in this area of his life. He famously defended the Black Widow, and later the Hulk, in rooms where the odds were fully stacked against him (in the former, the opposing counsel was Foggy!). The "Underboss" story arc begins with Matt giving a killer closing argument in a multi-million-dollar case, then getting swamped by the media on the courthouse steps like a superstar. The "Supreme" story arc—a love letter to the legal system penned by lawyer Charles Soule (which I wrote about in-depth here)—climaxes with Matt successfully arguing a case before the Supreme Court. Matt's fame varies from creative team to creative team, but he has often been presented as a known local figure: the famous blind lawyer who always finds a way to win.

Daredevil vol. 1 #375 by Joe Kelly, Cary Nord, Christie Scheele, Richard Starkings, et al.

Some superheroes only have a civilian job to pay the rent and maintain a secret identity, some don't have a civilian job at all, but Matt's legal career is just as important to him personally as his superheroing, and the skills required to be a great lawyer are ones that he has honed with intention. Just as it is great fun when Matt draws upon his superhero skills and powers in his civilian life, it is equally fun when he is able to get himself out of scrapes as Daredevil using his legal expertise and talent for crafting a convincing argument.

Matt: "I realize I'm not capable of hand-carving an exit for those women through the most brilliantly weaponized military of the 21st century. I'm here to lawyer them out." Daredevil vol. 4 #7 by Mark Waid, Javier Rodriguez, Alvaro Lopez, and Joe Caramagna

His passion for justice also extends far beyond high-profile clients and newsworthy cases. He will go to great lengths for all of his clients, and takes on cases other lawyers might not touch. For a while, he and Foggy had a storefront law office where they provided low-cost representation to anyone who came through the door. At another point, they offered a coaching service for clients who were representing themselves in court. When Karen Page set up her addiction hotline and community center in Hell's Kitchen, Matt provided legal help there to anyone who needed it (illegally; he was disbarred at the time). The Daredevil: Redemption mini-series is all about Matt (against Foggy's advice) taking a seemingly unwinnable murder case and fighting like hell to keep his client out of the electric chair. Apart from anything else you can say about Matt Murdock, he is undeniably a kick-ass lawyer, and just as much of a daredevil in the courtroom as he is when he's out battling Stilt-Man.

Daredevil vol. 1 #354 by Karl Kesel, Cary Nord, Christie Scheele, Rick Leonardi, Matt Ryan, Ul Higgins, and Jim Novak

Despite the opinion of Rosalind, here, I will emphasize that Foggy is also a very talented lawyer. He lacks Matt's dramatic flair and natural charisma, but he is very smart, a tireless worker (sometimes single-handedly keeping the law firm afloat through Matt's various DD-related absences), and—particularly by this current point in his career—highly experienced. Foggy served a challenging term as the Manhattan District Attorney, he has worked in corporate law, he's brought to court superheroes and the Kingpin of Crime himself. Foggy has always struggled with low self-esteem and tended to consider himself the less capable half of Nelson & Murdock, extending all the way back to his and Matt's time together in college. However, it didn't take very long for Daredevil writers to stop using Foggy just to prop up Matt and instead start pulling him into the spotlight as a legal powerhouse in his own right.

Daredevil vol. 1 #26 by Stan Lee, Gene Colan, and Artie Simek

Daredevil vol. 1 #227 by Frank Miller, David Mazzucchelli, Christie Scheele, and Joe Rosen

(I like to point out the above scene in particular because it is a marked departure from Miller's earlier, somewhat out-of-character depictions of Foggy as bumbling comic relief in the courtroom. I'm curious to know what led to this turnaround, but whatever it was, I'm grateful for it.)

Matt: "Foggy Nelson is the other half of Nelson & Murdock, the one man who knows everything about me. He's my partner because he's a a brilliant litigator with an encyclopedic knowledge of case law. I'm his partner because of people's characteristic hesitance to hire a lawyer named 'Foggy'." Daredevil vol. 3 #1 by Mark Waid, Paolo Rivera, Joe Rivera, Javier Rodriguez, and Joe Caramagna

[sashi-ya]

Hi, hi! for the emo boy event can I request a Byakuya fic? f! reader please, and nsfw 💞

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗸 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻. kuchiki byakuya x f! belly dancer! reader. nsfw

a/n: hi anon! sure! I hope you enjoy a sudden idea that came up while I was listening to some Arabic music to relax 💙 tw: +18 mdni. our reader is a belly dancer on a "dancing house" you can say it is something like a brothel since she can be "bought", so if you are sensitive towards prostitution or related topics please be aware of this. sexy belly dance (i'm not saying that's the whole purpose of belly dancing, please keep that it mind). masturbation. nipple play kinda. byaku becomes a little savage, so kiiiinda hard sex. creampie. wc: 3.5k masterlist

The Kuchiki clan, where powerful men decide and brag fortune. A group of men dedicated to keeping the Soul Society’s history, and to be rich… stupidly, disgustingly rich. So rich, even their clothing and accessories are worth more than a mansion… 

“Get ready, you are dancing tonight… for very important people. You were personally requested… the best odalisque!” you get informed; the tone filled with both seriousness and a pinch of envy. 

You roll your eyes; you don’t mind if the people you are dancing for are important or not, you are only there to dance. 

Covered in fine silks, your “uniform” looks impeccable. The chains and jewels tingle with each motion, and the more they do, the better. Your exposed belly gets a little cold, as tonight winter seems to be taking over every corner of your city. 

The sound of chariots and a subtle bustling outside catches your attention; you watch several men entering the dance house from your window. All of them are dressed like they are indeed very wealthy people. 

You only know them as a part of history, since they don’t live in your lands, but rather far, far away. You also know their clan leader became a widower a few years ago yet still know nothing about his appearance nor any characteristic. 

 The drums begin to play, soft music comes from the dining room area, they must be filling their never hungry bellies with the finest delicacies your chefs are able to prepare. 

You also prepare to be devoured by their lustful eyes; you are used to; men, no matter their social class, are all the same. Right? 

“The clan leader will be here as well, try to please him… even if they say it is pretty difficult to do so…” one of the backup dancers whispers. Maybe she is trying to cheer you up, or maybe she is trying to put more pressure on you. 

You nod, sighing. Your hips will do the best they can to follow the musicians; you are sure that “old geezer with lots of money” will enjoy the show. 

The lights begin to dime; the music to slowly growth in rhythm, and the darbuka to peal. Your body drags towards the scenario, with the motions of a cobra; sexy as a deadly snake, ready to imbue their bloods with the passionate venom of a lustful dance. 

You cover your face from your nose down, letting your irises scan the faces of each man watching you dance. Old guys, some wearing metallic hair accessories, and white coats. 

Old guys, and a young one. From them all, he is the one whose eyes seem to be drunk in superiority and arrogance. 

“He must be the youngest of them all, perhaps one day he will become the leader…” you think. “He is probably the grandson of the leader; that guy with a moustache looks like an old version of him”

In any case, you don’t care; you just need to dance. Your muscles move with the beats of the drums, your hips accompany you well, your belly like sea waves show the great expertise and why you are called “the best dancer”. 

And you can tell they are indeed enjoying it by the looks of hunger and drooling dressed up as smirks. They drink while they watch you own the wooden floor with your naked feet. The anklets jingle to their movement, as well as the hip belt. 

You can see every single man smirking, pleased with your performance. Every single but the youngest of them. He hasn’t smiled once, yet his eyes were unable to divert from your body. He seems to analyze, to mentally record every motion, every dance move you make. 

You still have the grand finale, the sexiest dance of them all; the one where you get down the scenario and dance closer to them… so close, that, as much as you wish to, they can interact with you. 

But the one who is interacting tonight, will be you. You, for some strange reason, feel the desperate need to rip a smirk from that youngster… from that handsome man.

You take some air before the last dance; slowly, slowly the music goes as slow it could go while you get down from the scenario. 

Every man tenses, interested. They think you are dancing for them, but you are certainly not. Him, the one exuding haughtiness, has become the main target. The scarf around his neck will be especially useful for the grand finale. 

You slither his way, shaking your hips closer and closer. So close the tip of his nose can almost touch your stomach. 

That man won’t move; the more you dance next to him his eyes only focus on one single thing; your eyes. It’s almost intimidating; such serious frown, with night-coloured sharp eyes burning holes into your orbs.

But you won't let him win, you aren’t done just yet. Sexily and slowly, you snatch the scarf around his neck, entangling all your body with it as you pull. His long onyx hair graces the back of your hand… how silky… 

His frown changes; his expression is now a little more on the insulted side. On perhaps, the “how dare you touch me?” side. 

You giggle underneath the expensive silk you just stole from him; it smells so good, clean but still with a hint of manly bodily scent. You can tell he’s been sweating. Has he been feeling hot? 

You turn your back to him, the lights filtering through your figure and in between the tiny pores of his scarf while flowing in the air. 

Byakuya’s lips separate just a little; a tiny gasp comes right after. The beauty of the moment, just like a living piece of art, seems to blow his mind… she is alluring. 

Your movements are like liquid gold, each step precise and deliberate, yet flowing with a natural grace that captivates every onlooker. The room is silent, save for the rhythm of the drums, guiding you every motion.

As you spin, the scarf dances along like a serpentine companion. You can sense the weight of your target’s gaze, intense and unyielding. Yet, you don’t mind, it only fuels your show; you want to see him break, to see the facade of indifference crack under the pressure of your enchanting hips. 

With a final flourish, the scarf gets thrown in the air, falling on you like a veil, running down your skin. It slips, as if, that fine silk yearned to kiss all of your flesh. 

You bow, stepping back right after, surrounded by the stolen stole. Your eyes are still locked with his, challenge him; invite him. 

Byakuya remains still, but there's a flicker in his eyes, a spark of something raw and unrestrained.

You know, deep inside, you’ve won. You’ve struck a chord. Now, the performance was really a success. 

You offer a sweet smile before turning away, leaving that man with the echo of your dance, the memory of your delicate touch, and without his scarf. Perhaps, like a trap, you use it as a bait… come and get it by yourself, Mr. arrogant. 

You run to your room, flopping down your bed. Still covered by that scarf, you take a couple of seconds to inhale the perfume before it gets taken away. Because you know, you can feel him getting closer… his aura; is he a Shinigami? 

The knock on the door, announces some minutes after, he is indeed there to claim what’s his. And maybe, all of the rest as well… including you. 

“The scarf” he simply says, standing right by the entrance as you open the door. He seems, once again, filled with conceit and disgust towards anyone but him. 

“Would you like me to clean it, sir? You see, we always try to interact with the publ-“ you want to keep on explaining something he doesn’t really care about, getting interrupted by his gloved hand lifted slowly in the air. 

“And what would you know about cleaning such expensive fabrics?” he asks, visibly more annoyed than before. Even if his cheeks were becoming slowly pink the more he looks at you. 

You smirk; you might be wealthy, but not -yet- my owner. 

“You are most definitely right, Sir… uh, what’s your name? I’m not a cleaning lady; I am a dancer. The best from my region” you answer back, tinting your speech in at least a small amount of his arrogance. 

His eyes squint, his frown intensifies; is this some kind of disrespect crusade towards him, the Kuchiki clan leader? 

“You don’t know my name? haven’t you ever heard of Kuchiki Byakuya? you really don’t know who you stole that scarf from? Weren’t you informed of who was coming here tonight?” he asks, coming closer to you in a menacing, powerful way, but still calm and collected. It seems to you as if he were fighting to keep his real self, tamed. 

You blink, looking up at him, taking small steps backwards. 

“The Kuchiki clan leader and family” you murmur.

“And who do you think the clan leader is? Mh? Why don’t you guess?” he asks, grabbing the scarf in between his index and middle finger. 

You swallow; why is he getting this mad? 

“I… I don’t know, Sir… I- that man, the old man with a moustache? I know the clan leader became a widower some years ago, so it must be him? You look similar to that man, so I’d say that’s your father or your grandfather” you let him know. 

Byakuya does a little head shake, confused. 

“That’s indeed my grandfather, and yes, he WAS the leader. Now, I AM the clan leader; I am the widower…” he corrects you. 

You gasp; a widower at such a young age? No wonder why he seems so embittered. 

“I am sorry, Kuchiki-sama” you immediately change the way you refer to him. “Can I compensate you with a special, unique, private dance?” you continue, offering him something to cheer him up -and maybe, like Sherezade, a reason to distract him from wanting to kill you-

Byakuya lets the scarf go; he has been holding a pinch of it in between his fingers but never once tried to pull it away from you. He thinks; and while he does he looks at you from above and slightly to the side… ah, what an annoying -ethereal and beautiful- creature.  

The noble, whose eyes show the desperate need to say yes, takes his sweet time to cover up his real desires. Yet, ultimately, he says yes to your proposal. It didn’t take much for him to accept, as your eyes became almost a hypnotic instrument to control that man. 

“Sit down, please” you command, turning him around, feeling the electricity on the palms while you touch his arms. 

Byakuya, impassible, sits down in your bed and crosses his legs; a clear sign of his undeniable arousal that he might want to conceal… at least for now. 

An old music player from the world of the living, brought by a Shinigami that visited your lands a few years ago, starts playing one of your favourite songs; that song you use to dance alone, just to practice and to enjoy the musical notes flowing through your body like the blood in your veins.  [a/n: listen to the song here]

Your hips begin to move, up and down, to the beat of the drums. It starts slow, increasing the rhythm little by little when the rest of the instruments join the melody. 

With closed eyes at first, you don’t need to look at him while you dance; you can already tell he’s been bewitched by the sloughy flow of your flesh. 

To Byakuya it is more than sensual; it’s daring. You dare, you challenge him to break a self-imposed celibate, to enjoy the lust of watching a woman dancing for him, and only for him. 

So much he enjoys and gets lured to be a part of your sensual dance that his gloved hands reach for your body. His fingertips search for your skin in between the flowing scarf you dance with. 

You get closer and closer, allowing his hands to finally land on each side of your waist. The contrast of his cold palms with your warm hips makes you get little bumps all over. Though it is most probably because of the delicate and still dominant grab of a man so handsome. 

Unhurried, Byakuya pulls you closer to him, receiving you on his lap. 

You straddle your hips on his legs, with his scarf on your shoulders. Stretching your arms and back, moving side to side like an ophidian woman, you throw yourself backwards as his fingertips travel from your chest down to your belly. 

Oh, and how good this feels to him… you can feel his hardness growing, with the vengeance to penetrate, to impale. 

Byakuya can’t hold back a minute longer; his hands pass through your waist and serve as support for your back. He bends forward, kissing right where your sternum ends. And then up and down, leaving a trail of wet pecks on your skin. 

You reach his head, brushing back his beautiful dark hair. Smooth, soft, silky; you wish to witness it rain down his nude back. In fact, you wish him to be naked, desperately. 

And as desperately as you, that’s exactly what Byakuya wants; to have you naked in between his arms, onto that bed, laying your delicious anatomy back for him to devour. 

He turns you around, throwing you -now with less delicacy, forgetting maybe his noble status- back into the mattress. 

Byakuya crawls in between your legs, spreading them, looking so manly and dominant. His eyes have become sharper, imbued in lust and desire, only focused on one thing… ripping your beautiful dancing clothes off. 

Like claws, his hands pull down the semi-transparent top that only covers your breasts, exposing them. About to gloat, you can hear a manly grunt leave his silent lips. It makes you shiver; an aura of pure superiority forces you immediately to submission. 

The head clan lifts your leg up to his waist, passing his hand through the cut on your harem pants. 

“Is this included in the private dance?” he asks, with his lips grazing yours. You can tell he is about to break; the level of arousal in his voice, on the way he exhales so agitated… 

“This might need for you, Leader Kuchiki, to buy me” you whisper back, as agitated, as needy, and desperate as he is. 

Byakuya smirks; if there is something he can do is exactly that; buy you, acquire you. 

“I’ll pay anything” he answers before his lips crush with yours in such a concupiscent kiss it could scandalize the mere snake that tempted Eve in Paradise. 

Ah, and speaking of paradise, that’s exactly what awaits you from now on.    

Your nails carve on his neck, scratching his skin yearning for his clothes to finally slide down his body. You crave his nudity, as well as his sex deep inside your womb. 

Byakuya unties the sash around his waist; it all gets loose except his muscles and dick. You are now able to pull his fabrics down, exposing what you have already been imaging; a lean, pale, perfect and velvety bareness. 

You are so tempted to bite such precious flesh, but the weight of his hand getting around your neck stops you right away. 

The noble’s fingers curl and carve on your mandible, holding your face down, unable to move. You lay your head and hair on his scarf, giving you a frame worthy of  comparing you with “The Birth of Venus.” 

“You look so beautiful resting on my Ginpaku” Byakuya murmurs, who would have thought he could be romantic during the heat of the moment? 

You bite your lower lip and look to the side; it takes a lot for a man to make you flush and this one has made it possible. 

“Look at me…” he continues, forcing you to fix your sight on his, while his free hand works its way towards your panties. 

A tiny triangle covers your sex; a tiny triangle now dampened in arousal and sweat, exactly like Byakuya’s. He doesn’t care, in fact, all he wants is to take it off. 

He does, pulling them to the side to allow his index to slide right in. He moves in and out, so painfully slow, it drives you crazy. His thumb makes his big entrance then, when it lands on your clit. It traces circles, just to push you to hell and ascend to heaven right after. 

In reality, Byakuya is simply preparing your entrance, getting a little taste of what his sex will soon experience; the warmth of your insides, the spasming of your walls around his dick. All and everything at expenses of your pleasure, a perfect deal for a business man like him. 

“I’m in great need of fucking you, now” he grunts, after biting your right nipple. 

Your back arches; the way his beckoning fingers masturbate you, the way he nibbles on your breasts, the straightforward words coming from his delicious mouth… 

Shivering, you are only able to nod. Your legs quiver, soon climax will arrive; soon, very soon. 

You grasp from his black hakama, pulling them down completely the best you can, exposing an exquisite dripping hardness. Just like him, his sex is; impetuous, straight, even violent in a deadly sharp daintiness. 

Your harem pants get ripped as well, that man isn’t playing about being in “great need.” Your legs, get arranged by him to be resting on his chest; apparently Byakuya enjoys going deep from the very beginning. And who you are to contradict the Kuchiki clan head leader? 

With your ankles on each side of his face, and his long hair tickling on the bridge of your feet, Byakuya guides his sex into your overflowing sex. Both moan and close your eyes during that first slide that feels so good. 

You instinctively try to close your legs, but he won’t let you just yet. Byakuya’s body bends forward, going even deeper on each ram; are those hips made of what? How is he able to fuck you this hard? 

Grunting and moaning mix in one; you can feel his dick reaching your limit. Yours, but not his. The slap of his thighs against your legs becomes louder as he fucks you harder. 

His forehead gets bathed in sweat, your skin burns. Eventually, Byakuya allows your legs to join not before kissing the instep of your feet; only to push them to the side then and keep fucking you that way. 

Your hands grip to his scarf that still lays, all wrinkled, under your head. He smirks; your cheek also gets pressed against it as you turn your face to the side in pure raptured distress. 

You feel your orgasm coming, opening your eyes to let him know, only by your look of pleasure, you are about to come. 

Byakuya catches it quite well, as he maintains the rhythm just the same. “Come… come” he pants, with sloppy eyelids and his own climax right around the corner. 

You nod, pulling him to kiss you while you do. The kiss only lasts for as long as you can endure coming without gasping and wheezing. Panting he inhales and enjoys, as the very last drop of fuel needed for his own explosion. 

And an explosion is what it is; you can feel his cum flooding your womb, filling it up with throbbing intervals of white release. Seed overflowing, with pressure and hot, hot temperature… 

With not much to say, both flop into that bed that’s now covered in sweat despite the freezing winter of the outside. 

“I hope this made up for taking your scarf, Byakuya-sama ~” you purr, as he pulls you to rest on his chest. “I’m not over yet… my precious dancer”

The morning after. 

You wake up, still tired, with sore muscles and the scent of that man still lingering in the air. Yet, you are alone there; he’s gone. 

“And here I thought he was going to buy me for real…” you mutter, turning around to discover a little surprise of what temporarily had been his side of the bed; his scarf perfectly folded with a paper on top written in perfectly calligraphy.

𝐾𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑡 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛; 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟. 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦, 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤. - K.B.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ➡ TO BE CONTINUED. 

yes! there is a following fic that will fulfill another request; basically the next one will be a continuation of this one! being then, the same "reader" (I know I said one per character, but you know we love byakuya here)

[durtblog]

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When searching for reliable commercial painting contractors near me, Champpainting.ca stands out for its outstanding quality and commitment to customer satisfaction. Our skilled professionals are equipped with the latest tools and techniques, ensuring your commercial space not only looks appealing but is also prepared for the rigors of everyday business operations.

By choosing Champpainting, you can expect a seamless experience from the initial consultation through to the final brush stroke. We understand the importance of minimizing disruption to your work environment and work diligently to complete projects on time while maintaining the highest standards of craftsmanship.

Our team specializes in a variety of services, including wallpaper installation, office painting, and exterior finishes, tailored specifically for commercial settings. Whether you’re looking to revitalize a storefront or give your office a fresh look, our skilled house painters are ready to help.

Embrace the transformation of your commercial space. Contact us now to get a free estimate and discover why we are the preferred choice for commercial painting contractors in your area!

İnterior Painting Near Me

When it comes to enhancing the beauty and comfort of your home, professional interior painting services are essential. If you’re searching for interior painting near me, you’ve landed at the right place. At Champ Painting, we specialize in delivering top-notch interior painting solutions tailored to your specific needs.

Our team of experienced house painters is dedicated to transforming your living spaces into stunning, vibrant areas that reflect your personality and style. We understand that choosing the right color and finish can be overwhelming. That's why we offer personalized consultations to help you make informed decisions that will elevate your home’s aesthetic.

Key Benefits of Choosing Our Interior Painting Services:

Expert Guidance: Benefit from our skilled painters who can recommend the best paint options and techniques for your home's interior.

Quality Workmanship: Our attention to detail ensures a flawless finish that you will love for years to come.

Timely Completion: We respect your time and strive to complete projects efficiently without compromising quality.

Comprehensive Services: From consultation to the final touch-up, we manage every detail of the painting process.

Investing in professional interior painting is not just about aesthetics; it also enhances the value of your home. Whether you are preparing for a sale or simply looking to refresh your space, our team is ready to assist you with the best paint for cupboards in the kitchen and any other interior surfaces. With Champ Painting, your home will not only look beautiful but will also be a reflection of your style and taste.

Don't wait any longer! Contact us today for a free estimate and let our expert painters bring your vision to life. Whether you need commercial painting contractors near me or a reliable house painter near me, we are here to serve you!

House Painter Near Me

When searching for a reliable house painter near me, look no further than Champpainting. Our team of dedicated professionals brings years of experience and expertise to every project, ensuring that your home is treated with the utmost care and skill.

Choosing the right paint can elevate your home's aesthetic and create a welcoming atmosphere. At Champpainting, we offer personalized consultations to help you select the best paint for your specific needs, including options ideal for cupboards in kitchens that are both durable and stylish.

Don’t settle for less when it comes to your living space. Contact Champpainting today, and let our house painters turn your vision into reality, leaving you with a beautifully painted home that you can be proud of!

Best Paint for Cupboards in Kitchen

When it comes to kitchen renovations, selecting the right paint for your cupboards can make a world of difference. Whether you want to refresh your kitchen’s aesthetic or increase its functionality, choosing the best paint for cupboards is kitchen. Here are some top picks and tips that will help you achieve a professional finish.

Eco-Friendly Choices

Today’s homeowners are increasingly conscious of the environment. Therefore, consider selecting low or zero-VOC paints. These paints provide a safer atmosphere in your home while still delivering remarkable aesthetic appeal.

To ensure a flawless painting job, always consult with professional commercial painting contractors who can help guide you through the process. From choosing the perfect shade to applying it seamlessly onto your cupboards, their expertise can elevate your kitchen's appearance. Don’t hesitate to reach out to a house painter near you for help!