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majestyjun · 2 years

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# soobin + church sex !! xmas special

tw. f!reader, church girl!reader, religion (im not religious anymore… so this might be inaccurate), pet names, corruption kink, unprotected sex (please dont irl), first-time. minors dni + nsfw

a/n. for all the soobin corruption kink lovers a special merry xmas <3

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“to the holy father we thank for our many blessings and gifts on this special day.” soft bells ring throughout the church pews, worshippers closing their eyes as they unanimously “amen” to end the pastor’s sermon. decked out for christmas, the church halls were filled with bright green wreaths dotted with holly berries before the stained glass windows depicting christ and the virgin mary, shepherds and sheep. snow slowly falls from the cloudy sky outside, softly landing on the windowsills. countless candles lined the pews, emitting a soft yellow glow, wax dripping down the candlesticks.

hands clasped together, you whispered a quiet, “amen,” before dropping your tithe into the basket offered by a sister with a smile. “thank you, dear, and bless you.” if the church nuns had a favorite, you were certainly close. always dressed in your most modest, blouses and dresses buttoned all the way up with long skirts. never hesitating to volunteer before services, and attending every sunday. “thank you, sister. merry christmas to you.” you nodded politely, a genuine sweet smile adorning your features. the masses in the pews began to stir as they collected their belongings, turning for the door as they headed for fellowship and coffee. weaving through the crowd, you approached the front of the hall. “pastor, may I stay behind to clean? it would be a shame if the hall was left untidy after todays service for the coming days.” “of course, my dear. if only the other young gentlemen and ladies had the same dedication to church as you did. especially that choi soobin.” the pastor sighed, collecting his coat for the cold. your eyes blinked innocently, considering the boy in name.

choi soobin. the name of the one member of your devout church congregation who rarely showed up to service (primarily at the end if he did… for free refreshments at fellowship) and wore untidy clothes to all events. his friends were non believers, and to many of the church elders, it was unacceptable that he mingle with so many with poor habits. while the name struck a sigh of disappointment amongst the congregation, he struck a chord of curiosity within you. his soft, brown eyes and heart-shaped lips were the envy of many of the church boys, and the desire of many church girls. perhaps you included. he’d shown up today, dragged in by his grandmother who had compromised by sitting in the back of the hall.

“remember, if you need anything, my office is always open during hours.” the pastor’s voice broke your train of thoughts, and you quickly nodded before whirling around, pressing your cold hands to your bright red cheeks, flushed with warmth. it was a sin to think about boys in the church hall—especially those who were unfaithful to the lord. you blinked and glanced around, realizing the church hall was devoid of people. as you walked towards the storage closet, an arm wrapped around your waist and spun you around in a gentle pull. your eyes met a broad chest dressed in an oversized black sweater, matching the pair of fitted dark wash distressed jeans. your gaze slowly tilted upwards, to be met with the round, chocolate brown eyes of choi soobin.

“s-soobin!” you squeaked, equally startled by his appearance and distracted by the arm around your waist. “hey, sweetheart,” soobin smiled, his free hand toying with the small rosary dangling from your neck. “h-huh? sweet…sweetheart?” you mumbled, flustered by his proximity. you’d last spoken to soobin at sunday school several years ago, and had kept your distance after hearing the church elders discuss their concerns over his poor attendance and behavior raucously at fellowship. a small laugh escaped his heart-shaped lips, gazing down at your smaller figure with amusement. “always the good girl, not even going to fellowship until the church has been cleaned?” warmth flooded your cheeks, both embarrassed and defensive at his words. “what do you mean?” you asked hesitantly, still unsure of whether to escape his grasp or to sinfully remain in it.

“don’t you ever have any fun, sweetheart?” soobin hinted, “church life is boring, after all.” your eyes widened at his insinuation, heart racing at the thought of breaking your modest lifestyle. “of… of course not!” you stammered, “i could never betray the trust of the lord.” “that’a a shame.” with a sigh of disappointment, the hand around your waist dropped as he turned around. a “w-wait!” you cried without thinking, reaching for his absent hand. “oh?” leaning his head over his shoulder, soobin glanced behind to see your small, blushing figure tentatively holding to his hand, “what’s this? a devout church girl holding the hand of someone like me?” he teased, amused at your evident display of emotion.

your eyes darted nervously around, unsure of your actions. your mind insisted you let go, and send him on his way for his bold actions. your heart begged you to listen to him, to have the time with the handsome man you’d always been curious about. to challenge his mindset about you.

“w-what did y-you have in mind?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. a grin spread across soobin’s face, before he swiftly pulled you into his chest, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “don’t you ever wonder what it’s like to sin? to feel the lust and greed that the bible condemns?” you blinked in shock at his words; the temptation to know beckoning at your heart to follow soobin murmurs over the pastor’s constant preaching of abstinence. “can you imagine it? the sensation of physical touch… just like this.” finger tips danced down your back, gently smoothing over your curves through your skirt before warm palms cupped your waist and ass. humiliation burned through skin as shivers raced up your spine, breathy gasps escaping your throat at the unfamiliar touch. “it feels good, doesn’t it, doll?” he whispers, licking your earlobe in a long stripe. you gasped at the warm, wet sensation, an unfamiliar burn in your lower abdomen sparking alight. “sit on my lap,” soobin quietly instructs, taking a seat at a church pew and pulling you with him. a squeak leaves your throat as you straddle him, unfamiliar with your proximity to him.

“undo your dress buttons for me, sweetheart?” he asks, glancing down and taking your hesitant hands in his own and guiding them to the high neckline of your blouse. shakily, the buttons of your blouse come undone, exposing your cleavage to the frigid air conditioned room. “so pretty, all untouched for me.” soobin murmurs, before biting down on your skin. “a-ah!” you cry out, the sharp pain quickly soothed by a gentle lap of his tongue. breathy pants echo throughout the church hall, your head tipping backwards to expose more of yourself to soobin. murals of god and christ covered the ceiling, condemning and shaming you for your lack of modesty. humiliation trickled down your senses, although the thought of violating the lord’s words in his sanctuary sent heat rushing down over your body. “ah! wait—n-not there!” you whine, his ministrations trailing down your throat to the soft skin of your breast uncovered by your bra. “look at yourself, doll. all marked up by me.” your face burns with embarrassment and shame at his words, a moan escaping your lips as you glance down at the purple-red splotches dotting your chest. pressure builds in your core, an unfamiliar feeling of need taking over all other senses. “s-soobin, need more! feels… feels hot everywhere!” you whimper, desperate to quench the burning sensation crawling over your skin.

“i’ve got you, doll. just trust me?” soft lips meet your own in a gentle kiss. your eyes flutter shut, leaving behind all resistance as you melt in in soobin’s warm touch. the hard wood of the church pew meets your clothed back as he guides you into lying down. climbing over your vulnerable figure, soobin claims your lips in a string of kisses, only broken by shared breathy pants of arousal. tickling trails of fingertips gently pop open the buttons of your skirt, cold air rushing to meet the smooth skin of your thighs, doing little to quench the searing heat of your core. “soobin, it still burns!” fear laces your desperate plea as his hand comes to palm your clothed cunt. “shhh, don’t be scared. you’re doing so well, sweetheart.” you whimper at his praise, watching in nervous anticipation as he pulls away and settles between your thighs. “so cute and plush,” soobin remarks, licking your inner thigh in a single stroke, “don’t be nervous.”

pulling down your panties to your ankles, soobin licks his lips in anticipation. your soft, untouched pussy glistening with innocent, unknowing slick. two fingers gently prod at your entrance, the sudden contact causing you to clench your legs shut. “can’t do that, sweetheart,” soobin coos, coaxing your legs apart once more before taking your hand in his, “i’ve got you. just breathe.” his fingers slide past your entrance into your tight walls, clamping down on the foreign feeling. whimpers mixed with the soft sound of your juices squelching in and out with his fingers echo throughout the church hall. the sight of such a salacious act in front of you brings tears of shame to your eyes, to be feeling arousal before the lord. desperate cries break free from your throat as you squirm, despite your attempts to stay still. prodding your sensitive spot, fire races through your stomach as pressure builds, eliciting lewd, high pitched moans from your chest. “does it feel good, doll?” before you can respond, his lips latch on to your sensitive clit, sucking at the bud. broken cries fill the empty air of the hall, “s-soobin! c-can’t take anymore!” you sob, the knot in your stomach releasing as you cum over his lips and fingers, a wail leaving your throat as you tremble with aftershocks. soobin’s fingers swirl over your juices, making eye contact with your dizzy, unfocused eyes as he licks your slick off each finger slowly, relishing your taste.

climbing over you again, his sticky fingers press to your lips. “taste yourself, sweetheart. you’ve been so good for me.” you sloppily lick his fingers, dazed from your first orgasm. “are you ready for the real thing, doll?” he whispers, pressing soft kisses to your neck. “mmmhmm” you mumble, having lost most of your thoughts to the overwhelming experience. “i need words, darling,” lacing his fingers with yours once again, soobin presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, “you’ve already done so well, sweetheart.”

“yes, soobin.” you whimper, “i want you.” you find yourself reaching for the zip on his jeans, feeling the hard member concealed within. “good girl, so greedy for me.” he praises, wrapping his hand around your trembling fingers and pulling the zip of his jeans down along with his boxers. your eyes widen at his heavy, long cock, stiff and red with impatience. “a-are you sure it will fit?” you squeak, intimidated by his size. “i know you can do it, doll,” soobin coos, aligning himself with your entrance, “i’ll go slowly.” pressing his lips against yours, tongues entwining as he pushes in, stretching your walls slowly. “doll, relax,” soobin groans against your lips, your cries at the stretch lost in kisses.

tears slip down your cheeks, uncomfortable yet aroused by his overwhelming size. centimeter by centimeter, soobin sheathes himself inside your clenching warmth. “look, sweetheart,” soobin coaxes, encouraging your eyes to open, “can you see how well you‘ve taken me?” a lewd whimper elicits from your throat as you see his large hand over yours on your stomach, gently pressing down to feel his cock deep inside you. “i’m going to move now, sweetheart.” you nod, unable to form sentences at the unfamiliar, full feeling. slowly thrusting in and out, incoherent moans echoing throughout the church hall as the sound of skin on skin fills your ears. “soobin! a-ah! f-feels good!” you squeak, whines flowing freely from your lips as you give in to pleasure, the knot reforming in your core. “s-so tight!” he gasps, grabbing at your waist to angle deeper in your small pussy, “so good and pretty for me!” control gives way to sloppy, uneven thrusts as he reaches down to rub your abused clit, encouraging you to your high. “s-soobin! can’t take anymore! ha-have to—“ you sob desperately, the obscene sounds deafening to your senseless body. “c’mon doll, c-cum for me?” soobin gasps, as pleasure and heat burn beneath your skin. your orgasm crashes on your overwhelmed core, walls clamping down on soobin’s cock. “f-fuck! t-take it all, doll!” soobin moans, flooding your cunt with thick, white cum. your arms pull soobin tighter to you, whining at the overly-full feeling in your abdomen.

“so good, doll, you did so well,” soobin mumbles into your neck, before pulling out his softening length. “f-feel full.” you whimper, as soobin zips his jeans back up. “don’t worry about it, sweetheart. have to clean you up, okay?” pressing his sweaty forehead to yours, his fingers deftly button your rumpled clothing and slide your panties back up your legs, containing the your mixed cum. “you did so well,” soobin repeats, before scooping up your limp figure up from the church pew and carrying you towards the bathroom. “soobin?” you whisper, “i r-really, really liked it.” “i’m glad you did, doll. merry christmas, sweetheart.” he whispers back, the thought of what else he could do the corrupt this innocent, untouched church girl sending blood to his core.

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merry christmas ~ love, mille

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elucubrare · 3 months

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Walter de la Mare, Good-bye

The last of last words spoken is, Good-bye - The last dismantled flower in the weed-grown hedge, The last thin rumour of a feeble bell far ringing, The last blind rat to spurn the mildewed rye.

A hardening darkness glasses the haunted eye, Shines into nothing the watcher's burnt-out candle, Wreathes into scentless nothing the wasting incense, Faints in the outer silence the hunting-cry.

Love of its muted music breathes no sigh, Thought in her ivory tower gropes in her spinning, Toss on in vain the whispering trees of Eden, Last of all last words spoken is, Good-bye.

#my brain surfaced 'last of all last words spoken' from my memory #so here you go #poetry

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

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The Feast of Sankt Nikolai

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: You celebrate the Feast of Sankt Nikolai

A/N: Idk when I decided that Nikolai is a MASSIVE simp for his wife, but tell me it doesn’t fit 😂

Crown and dress references at the end

There was always a ball for the Feast of Sankt Nikolai. It wasn’t only Ravka’s biggest holiday, it was also the King’s Saints’ Day, which could not go uncelebrated. Your husband had shifted the focus of the party to the holiday rather than himself, loving the festive season as much as his people. If not more. The kitchen staff had been working all week to prepare the feast, the servants had been up since dawn cleaning and decorating the ballroom, and you’d been ushered into a bath at 3 bells to prepare.

Aside from the party Nikolai threw every year for your birthday, this was the biggest ball of the year, with the entire court and their families in attendance. After you’d bathed, your maids had draped you in a woolen robe and sat you down to work on your hair and makeup. You envied Nikolai in this regard: he didn’t have to spend hours preening before a ball, he could wake up ten minutes before it started, throw on a suit, and be done.

When you were done, you were dressed in a gown of red velvet with an off-the-shoulder neckline, the cuffs of the long sleeves, hem, and neckline trimmed in white fur. It had been fashioned after the version of Sankt Nikolai that visited children’s homes in the night and delivered presents, something you’d always found charming. Your hair was curled and pinned into an updo, diamond snowflakes pinned throughout, a tiara of glittering snowflakes nestled atop your head. Such was the theme of your other jewels for the evening: snowflake earrings and a diamond snowflake pendant around your neck, your engagement and wedding rings on your finger.

Nikolai entered the bedroom, dressed in his military dress uniform, and stopped dead in his tracks. Your maids curtsied and excused themselves, leaving you with your husband. “My love,” he whispered, stepping forward and taking your hands in his. “You are absolutely radiant. I… Saints, I could look at you all day.” You felt your face warm, and Nikolai kissed you sweetly. “But there’s no time for that. Not if we want to make the party.”

Your husband took your arm and led you down to the ballroom, nearly falling down the stairs with how frequently he turned to look at you. You were announced and you entered, taking in the beauty of the ballroom. Tinsel and garland was strung from the ceiling and candles lit the entire room. Wreaths of evergreen graced every table, and the feast was already laid out. Brown sugar glazed ham, scalloped potatoes, roasted green beans, freshly baked rolls, wine, champagne, ale, and beer graced the table, and Nikolai forwent a formal speech in favor of simply declaring “Enjoy yourselves!”

Court business had been banned from this ball, and everyone was glad for the break. Laughter flowed as freely as the wine, and you found yourself laughing at the Duchess of Caryeva’s story in a very un-queen like manner. Your husband had his arm slung around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as you conversed with members of your court. When the feast was cleared away, Nikolai reached beneath the table and handed you a wrapped parcel.

“Kolya,” you said, taking the gift from his hands. “Now Y/N, darling, I don’t want to hear ‘You didn’t have to get me anything’, because we both know I make it my duty to spoil my bride absolutely rotten. This is just a taste of what I have for you tomorrow morning.” You shook your head, but you were smiling as you tore the paper, revealing a rare, first edition of your favorite novel. “Oh, Nikolai,” you said, and the King leaned in close.

“So, did I do good?” “Yes!” you cried, throwing your arms around him. “I love it, thank you!” Nikolai kissed you deeply, not caring that his entire court was watching, pulling you even closer to him. “Of course, my dear. Now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away and standing. “If my queen would be amenable, I should like to ask for her hand in a dance.” A servant took your book, promising to deliver it directly to your rooms, and you stood, taking Nikolai’s hand.

The King led you to the floor, bowing before you as you curtsied, before taking your hands. The musicians struck up a waltz and you spun around the room, a smile on your face the entire time. Nikolai leaned forward to kiss you every so often, which made you giggle, and when the dance ended, your husband brought you to the side of the room and refreshed your drinks.

The rest of the evening was spent dancing, drinking, laughing, and overall shirking the responsibilities of the crowns you wore. The servants brought out desserts: cookies, cakes, candies imported from Kerch, and the party lasted for several hours. In fact, most of the court was still drinking and dancing at 2 bells. But soon after that, people began leaving, and the musicians began playing a slow song. Nikolai pulled you into his arms, swaying back and forth slowly.

“Happy Saints’ Day, Kolya,” you whispered, and he laughed softly. “I’d nearly forgotten that was today.” “Did you? That’s half of the reason we had this ball.” “Hmm,” was all Nikolai said, tightening his arms around you, kissing your forehead. In truth, he’d spent the entire evening watching you. Watching you laugh, watching you smile, watching you dance with various members of the court.

You were dazzling, you were graceful, you were bold, everything a queen should be. And you were his. With all the choices you’d had in a husband, you’d picked Nikolai, and was grateful for that every day. Nikolai had never believed in true love, but then he’d met you, and every expectation he had about true love went out the window. Never in his life had Nikolai known such joy, such passion, such devotion. And he was so devoted to you; the King knew how many admirers he had within his court, how many ladies prayed for the day he took a mistress, but they would be sorely disappointed. There was no woman as beautiful as you, as regal as you, as perfect as you.

“Where’d you go?” you asked, drawing Nikolai out of his revere. “What, darling?” “You had that look on your face.” “What look?” You smiled, cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “That look you get when you’re so stupidly in love with me that you start smiling like a drunkard.” The King indeed had a dopey smile on his face, and he tipped your chin up to kiss you. “It’s because I am so stupidly in love with you that I can seldom think of anything else.”

He kissed you deeper, and you squealed as he dipped you towards the floor. “Nikolai!” “Hush, woman, let me kiss my wife.” Your squeals turned to laughter as your husband kissed your neck, then your collarbones, before standing you upright. “Perhaps if you want to kiss your wife, you’ll take her upstairs.” A devilish look crossed his face, and Nikolai tucked an arm under your legs and lifted you into his arms. “Perhaps I’ll do just that.”

#nikolai lanstov x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone season 2

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rebelliousstories · 7 months

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25 Days of Ficmas 2023

Here we go again! Ficmas 2023 will officially begin Friday December 1st, 2023. I’m really excited to add in some new characters and revisit some old ones. Without further ado, here is your 2023 Masterlist.

Hope (December 1st) Bernard the Elf

The head elf is down in the dumps, and nothing can bring him out.

Childhood (December 2nd) Poly! Lost Boys

It’s Christmas time in the cave, and the Lost Boys mate is making sure that nothing ruins it for Laddie. Nothing and no one.

Elf (December 3rd) Louie Pointe du Lac

Claudia wants to partake in the Christmas cheer and dress up for their party. With her dad’s otherwise occupied, she employs the help of the only other woman in the home.

Poinsettia (December 4th) Selina Kyle

A little Christmas cheer in their dreadful New York apartment.

Stockings (December 5th) David

This was NOT what he had in mind when someone mentioned “stockings.”

Egg Nog (December 6th) Paul

Someone really should have told Paul not to drink an entire thing of egg nog before deciding if he liked it or not.

Through The Years (December 7th) Poly Louie & Lestat

Settling down on the couch, Lestat and Louie entertain their ladies with tales of their Christmas celebrations through the years.

Candles (December 8th) Tom “Iceman” Kazansky

Tom doesn’t allow a lot of personal items in his office on base, much preferring to keep his loved ones close to his heart. But he had to have a little something.

Festive (December 9th) Jack Twist

A snowy day at the ranch is the perfect setting for some winter, holiday fun.

Naughty/Nice (December 10th) Jake Gyllenhaal

The question everyone has to ask themselves every December; are you naughty or nice?

Pine cone (December 11th) Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Jake decides that he is going to show his girlfriend the lovely Seresin family holiday tradition of making a pine bonfire in the backyard.

Yuletide (December 12th) Corey Cunningham

Christmas holds some rough memories for Corey. Luckily his lover has some ways to override Christmas memories of the past.

Sugarplums (December 13th) Donnie Darko

Do sugarplums even exist? Has anyone ever had one? Donnie surely didn’t think so.

Wreath (December 14th) Rhett Abbott

For the last time; just because it’s ring toss shaped, doesn’t mean you can play ring toss with it.

Cranberry (December 15th) Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

A certain unusual flavor that has held a special spot in the Mitchell and Bradshaw family every Christmas.

Reindeer (December 16th) Robert “Bob” Floyd

A snowy landscape, total seclusion in an Alaskan cabin, and lots of wildlife. What an interesting winter vacation.

Mistletoe (December 17th) Lestat de Lioncourt

There is one tradition that Lestat loves no matter the year or who he is spending the holidays with; mistletoe.

Candy Cane (December 18th) David Loki

How do you get a workaholic in the Christmas spirit? Asking for a friend.

Snowflakes (December 19th) Miles Miller

All the guests are taken care of for the evening, and a thick blanket of snow has descended upon the El Royale. What is a couple to do?

Caroling (December 20th) Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Walking through the military town, the Dagger team is stopped by a small group preforming.

Handmade (December 21st) Austin Butler

Nothing made Austin happier than to be home with his girlfriend for Christmas. And they said no presents!

Angel (December 22nd) Marko

Everyone can see that Marko should have been a cherub in a past life, but one person brings that fantasy to life.

Stories (December 23rd) Dwayne

When you live for a long time and never die, you pick up some interesting tid bits of history.

Home (December 24th) Athos

Is it a place or is it a person?

Merry Christmas (December 25th) Bernard the Elf

Another year has come and gone. Another Christmas success. While he would normally jump straight into work now, someone tells him to take some time off to enjoy himself.

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cor-lapis-candy · 1 year

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So there is a very very talented artist on Instagram under the name daione.sith (100% look at their stuff! And of you have the money their patreon cause !!!! The NSFW versions!) And they have a demon Diluc drawing and good lord has it given me an idea.

So here I come like some kind of goblin out of my lil cave of Minecraft and grinding to give you this.

This piece doesn't really need a CW or a TW to my knowledge, but if religious themes or anything to do with possessive themes makes you umcomfy maybe don't read this one!

Have you ever seen the Anemo Archons cathedral in the afternoon?

Rays of golden light transformed into halos of gold and blue, green specks filling gaps between pure white streaks, the air filled with specks of dust that drift and paint the cracks between each colour stained display of devotion. Candles of every kind, pillars and tealights, long burning towers of wax that are lit day in and day out, melting and painting old stained wood with pools of faded whites and yellows, all long since forgotten and uncleaned after their purpose had been served.

There is piety in the air and whispered hymns on the lips of every soul that passes through those doors, heads bowed and hands offered in prayer and open devotion, and yet one resounding set of steps is all it takes to taint and defile, the solid click after click of his shoes against polished tile is a simple rhythm that sinks sin into the very stone foundations of the cathedral, a rot of domination seeping into the roots and curling around the heart of the church of freedom.

A demon in only your mind alone, and a saint in all others eyes, the uncrowned king and deep shadow across your devotion looms over you, standing as he always does, clothed in his jacket and hands ringed in simple yet daunting steel rings, lips moving through mockeries of prayer after prayer as the air fills with thick incense.

The censer by your side long since burnt out, a centerpiece to the flowing wreaths and displays of devotion through fruit and wine, the ash that falls and spills from the gaps tells of age and endless nights in the fogs of devotion and prayers that the red haired man that has come to curl around your back would disappear from your side, that 'The Diluc Ragnvindr' would turn those crimson eyes from you and find some other lamb to lead a stray, and yet again you feel the heat of his gloves drag across your arms, his hands pulling you backwards into the broad expanse of his chest.

The scent of incense is overpowered but the smell of oak, wine and something burnt, like the after scent of a fireplace or boiler pit, it smelt like iron and ash.

You know what lies under the heavy finery, that the moment you step out of these hallowed halls and step over the threshold of your home there is no archon or divine grace to save you, red hair will give way to arching horns and draping layers with loosen and fall away to leave the defined lines and markings of his true nature bare.

A sight many women and men would kill for will lay bare and inviting on your bed, legs spread with one hand lazily pumping his length. Fingers dragging the small trail of pre further down and making the ridges and inhuman shape all that more prominent, black trails that swirl across his hips and up around his chest, for something so inhuman he plays the role well, a thick swatch of red hair covers his chest and leads wispily down his stomach.

The deep red of his hair mats itself with sweat and other evidence of your entanglement, something of both his and your own, and yet it's not a matter of when you would give in but how.

Some Days he would catch you before you got into the cathedral, other day, ones much like this one, he would cradle you through your last prayers and escort you home, making you a sight of envy for all those that would catch sight of the two of you, and oh how people would see. The route he would make you take winds the many main streets and side roads, every set of envying eyes would watch as his gloves hands dug into your hips, how he let you push against him and made him chuckle.

The sound mistaken for mirth when really it was nothing but condescension.

Whatever his end goal was, Diluc Ragnvindr was working his way into your heart and head, somedays all it took was a flash of the fiery red of his hair and you would be wound up expecting those heavy hands and ash laiden words to coax you off your beaten path and into the dark of some ally for a quick moment of hushed breaths and shape teeth digging into whatever skin you had exposed or could be exposed.

But here in your home as he lays back, horns ripping through the plush pillow you had bought not a day before, red tipped claws digging into the soft skin of your hips and dragging you further and further down his cock making the finale ridge of something just shy of to big, to wide, too much for you, press against your opening as he huff out a laugh.

Today he would take you wholly, leave you gasping and open mouthed as he sunk that finale but of himself into you, stained you inside and out with himself, marks of theet and hands mean nothing to how he will know that he finally came in you, finally painted your inside with his spend.

How glorious it will be the day he gets you watch you stumble back from that cathedral to his winery, to drape yourself across his lap and grasp at the base of his horns and beg for him, true devotion to him, true adoration and nothing but from you, to him would be the icing on this long overdue cake.

For now though he will enjoy the fucked out and watery eyes stare from you as he pushes you that little bit further down his cock, bottoming out and drawing a deep gasp from your lips.

For now this will do…

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc smut #diluc x reader #demon diluc #corposting

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magic-is-something-we-create · 9 months

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EMBER TIMBER - The Millennium Saga [Firebreathers ; Echoseers ; Goddess-Touched]

I pay my respects to the quiet rebellion by relighting the candles of their vigil. By snapping the leafy mark-pairs of one of the stolen wreaths out of the slotted wooden ring that held them, and leaving the ring among the other symbols of silent support. If I could do more, I would.

Basics:

They/them - Genderfluid

Biromantic Gray-asexual - 21 (~23 on Earth)

First-generation Mae Ehlf - Fire Mage

Where they begin:

We meet Ember on a busy street at the height of the Night Market in their hometown of Aree, picking pockets to make up the difference between the week's pay and rent at the inn their family is calling home for the time being. Orphaned at eleven, and losing their last remaining guardian at seventeen, they and their twin brother are the only ones caring for their five other siblings--a task made all that much harder after Ember quit the corps shortly after that number dropped from six, never making it to the front lines and never seeing a paycheck.

But if there's one thing they did get from the corps, it's an aim unlike anything Aree's ever seen in another archer, even their father.

What they find themself confronting:

When Ember picks from the same pocket twice in as many days, their conscience starts to kick in.

When they go to give some of what they stole back the next time they stumble on the poor soul, they're surprised with an entire wallet being pressed into their hands with an invitation to join the rebellion tucked between enough money to cover their rent for months.

They've been wanting to help. Now they can.

But are they prepared for what comes after?

Important connections: (intros will be linked when posted)

Family: Nimbus, Autumn, Dusk, Ash, and Oak Timber. Formerly Starlight, Luka, and Akari Timber, and Lileya Wolfsbane (all deceased).

Friends: Gabbro (partner), Annie (best friend), and Andy Meywin, K'Ron Isa.

Enemies: Genli Rainer (Godfather; former drill sergeant), Artrix Palm (corrupt Citylord of Aree), and Ruti Palm (in solidarity with Gab).

MUSIC

Themes - Knights Templar by Adriel Fair, Between Worlds by Adriel Fair, The Hero Within by James Paget

Vibe(s) - Dirty by grandson, Six Feet by Patent Pending, Brother by Kodaline

#writeblr #character intro #wip intro #original writing #original character #the millennium saga #tms intros #snip #my.art

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footballffbarbiex · 6 months

Text

player: Jan Oblak words: 905 request: Jan Oblak - she / her - 500 - 900 - Jan and her decorating the Christmas tree while listening to Christmas songs and her dancing & singing along slightly off-key which would normally annoy him, but all he can do is just look at her lovingly

A/N: this may or may not be linked to an idea that I have. it can be read and enjoyed as a standalone though just as much.

By the time Jan has returned from training, the house does not look the way he’d left it. With a bright holiday wreath hanging on the front door and a festive doormat to greet him before he’s even stepped foot inside, he knows that inside can only be as festive. Opening the door reveals a garland wrapped around the staircase bannister adorned with soft lighting throughout it.

There’s a candle or wax melt burning, the sweet smell of winter baking filling the hallway as he removes his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket before dumping his training bag at the door. Soft footsteps takes him to where you are, sitting on the floor surrounded by tree ornaments, tinsel and lights. A Christmas playlist rings out and you hum along with it. He watches as you shake your shoulders and wiggle your hips as you sit with your legs open and separate the items for quick access later on when you’re applying it all to the tree.

As much as you go a little too hard for Jan at this time of year, and as much as Jan would rather something small such as a simple decorated tree or area of the house which is perfect for those much needed social media posts, he loves the way you turn the house into a place that is warm and welcoming. You may mock him and call him a grinch, but you made up for it for the both of you, and deep down - way down - he secretly enjoyed it.

He stands patiently watching you, not wanting to give himself away just yet, but feeling happier by the second as you sing along in different voices, occasionally dropping the items from your hand to play one of the many instruments from the track. You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realised he’s there until it’s too late. Fear momentarily grabs you by the throat, a look of panic manipulates your features before your hand comes to your chest, feeling the way your heart beats frantically against the palm of your hand and the way his name comes out of your mouth like it’s a cuss while you let out a steady stream of breath is enough to bring a grin to his face.

“One of these days I’m-”

“Stare the intruder to death?” Jan cuts you off and watches as you give him the dirtiest look that you can muster.

“You’re so mean to me.” you huff, turning your back to him as he laughs. “Don’t you be like that,” he wants to boop you on the mouth and nose but keeps his distance - just in case, he’d rather not be stabbed with a candy cane or two. Instead, you play it safe and lean over to your phone, change it to the one christmas song that you know Jan hates the most and turn up the volume. Now it’s his turn to scowl at you, a scowl which only increases as you begin to sing loudly and just a smidge off key.

He knows why you’re doing it. Knows that he’s done this to himself for making you jump, and even though it’s a song that he absolutely despises, he’s fully prepared to endure it just because of how happy you look right now.

“It’s a shame it’s come to this,” he says a little too loud, ensuring that his voice carries over the sound of the music.

“Come to what?” you ask in the same sing song tone as the song, asking the sentence as though it’s a mere addition to the song itself.

“I’d picked up the new festive flavour from that coffee shop you love so much but,” Jan says, holding up the coffee cup in question high above his head as you scramble to your feet to try and take it from his hands, “I don’t think you deserve it now.”

“I do! Baby, I do deserve it. I’ve been working hard, see.” There’s a child-like innocence on your face and dripping from your voice as you try to plead with him. He’d promised you that you could both go and get one of the festive ones, with one of the flavours being one that was introduced last year and you could have licked the cup clean because it was that delicious. He has yet to see this in action, considering the two of you have only been dating a few months, but he’s heard stories and was eager to see it for himself.

“See, I don’t think you do deserve it.”

“I’ll turn it off,” you say quickly, turning on your heel to get to the phone and switch off the song quickly. “See! Purleaaaaaaase,” you almost beg. “Please my beautiful man.”

“I might consider it, if you give me a kiss.” he purses his lips and makes a kissing gesture while still holding the drink over your head. You can smell it from this distance and it makes you excited.

“I’ll give you a kiss any day, any hour, any minute. This is not a hard sell.”

“Maybe I just want one.”

“Maybe you’re easy like that.”

“What are you going to do about it?” He asks, slowly lowering it inch by painstakingly inch.

“I’m gonna kiss my man and give him what he wants.”

“I don’t think we’re quite there yet, but I’ll work on it.”

#jan oblak one shot #jan oblak imagine #jan oblak blurb #jan oblak drabble #jan oblak fanfic #jan oblak fanfiction #football one shot #football imagine #football drabble #football blurb #football fanfic #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer drabble

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modx-reborn · 2 years

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Kinktober Day 10: Priests with Sapnap

...It's in the title.

MINORS DNI!

Have you ever seen the cathedral in the afternoon? Rays of golden light transformed into halos of gold and oranges, red specks filling gaps between pure white streaks, the air filled with specks of dust that drift and paint the cracks between each colourful display of devotion. Candles of every kind, pillars and tealights, long burning towers of wax that are lit day in and day out, melting and painting old stained wood with pools long since forgotten and uncleaned.

There is piety in the air and whispered hymns on the lips of every soul that passes through those doors, head bowed and hands offered in prayer and repentance, and yet one resounding set of steps is all it takes to taint and defile, the solid click after click of your shoes against polished tile is a simple rhythm that sinks sin into the very stone foundations of the cathedral, rot seeping into the roots and curling around the heart of the church.

A demon in all but reality, and a saint in all but name, the dear priest and host of your affection is standing as he always does, clothed in his robes and hands ringed in rosery, lips moving through prayer after prayer as the air fills with thick incense. The censer long since sat upon the main altar, a centrepiece to the flowing wreaths and displays of devotion through fruit and wine, the ash that falls and spills from the gaps tells of age and endless nights in the fogs of devotion.

There is something in the way he moves, black hair so messy in comparison to the pristine press of his cassock, the black fabric barely missing the floor as he walks, broad shoulders filling out the edges and drawing the eyes of sinners and believers alike, there is a fire in the way he preaches, hands raised and eyes alight in the low light of the candles before him if it were not for his occupation one could have taken him for the sinner with the depths of his stare.

And yet it is you that walks before him, waiting as the members of the parish leave smiling and bidding you a good afternoon and well wishes as you stalk towards him, fingers dragging across pew after pew, smiling as he watches you, stepping back only as you draw near, hips bumping the alter he had preached before, black robes staining with ash as the censer rocks against the jostling movement.

He would call you temptation, a sin wrapped in the softest of hands, a smile so warm should not shudder through him leaving heat in his veins, the nickname given to him by the flock should not linger in his ears as you purr at him 'sapnap', he is devoted and pure, untainted and yet as you cage him, run your fingers up his clothed chest there is a wavering chill akin to his first prayer of the day, that first moment he runs his thumb against his rosery and dips his head but this…

This is the feeling of your fingers cupping his face, the soft drag of skin against skin, the smell of mint and the communion wine of your breath as you draw closer, smiling as if you are not trying to defile him, drag him down into the depths of your lust. And yet he cannot find it in him to pull away, to stop your lips from tracing their way down his neck tugging the neck of his robes free and leaving deepening marks that will be repented for and remind him of the corruption he had endured, taken from you.

You were still a member of his flock even now as you paint sin into his skin, he would bear this burden, take your lust and spin you anew in the light once again, but first, first, your dear Father Sapnap would have to bear the knowledge of the sin he was about to commit, of how this altar would be forever stained in sweat, tears and sin.

First, he will have to cry your name to the heavens and beg god for you to keep touching and taking from him as you had planned.

#kinktober 2022 #c: sapnap #mcyt smut #k: religion #k: corruption #mxad

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fauxrealfloralsbyyasmin · 1 year

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Hydrangea Rose Candle Ring & Hydrangea Wreath

Create a warm and inviting atmosphere in your home with our stunning candle wreath featuring white silk Hydrangea Ring, white silk Roses, and green leaves accent. Handmade with care and attention to detail, this beautiful candle wreath is perfect for any occasion. It fits candles up to 4 inches in diameter and can be hung or displayed as a table centerpiece. The wreath is one-of-a-kind and sure to add a touch of elegance to your home décor!

Grapevine wreath base

8" diameter

Blue and white silk Hydrangeas

White silk Roses

Green leaves accent

Hook attached on back of wreath for hanging

Candle not included

Handmade in a smoke-free environment

#Hydrangea Candle Ring #Hydrangea Wreath

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scarybeetle · 10 months

Text

She was a skinned skeleton-plus-musculature figure, a tiny distant doll of a thing, her flesh pulled away from her and pegged, pinned to the ground around her.

“I hoped to make you hope,” the vast voice said, the syllables rolling over her like thunder. Her ears hurt with the force of it and kept on ringing afterwards. “But you are beyond hope. That is vexing.”

Suddenly she could talk again, the stitches that had sealed her mouth gone in a blink, the ragged tear in her neck sealed, her throat no longer crushed closed, her breath coming and going normally.

“Hope?” she gasped. “There is no hope!”

“There is always hope,” the vast voice declaimed. She could feel the force of it in her lungs, feel its words shaking the very ground beneath her. “And there must be hope. To abandon hope is to escape part of the punishment. One must hope in order for hope to be destroyed. One must trust in order to feel the anguish of betrayal. One must yearn, or one cannot feel the pain of rejection, and one must love in order to feel the agony of witnessing the loved one suffer excruciation.” The vast being sat back, producing wreathes of smoke like the currents of dark continental rivers, candles spearing flame like huge trees burning.

“But above all one must hope,” the voice said, each word, each syllable smacking into her body, resounding inside her head. “There must be hope or otherwise how can it be satisfyingly dashed? The certainty of hopelessness might become a comfort; the uncertainty, the not-knowing, that is what helps to bring on true despair. The tormented cannot be allowed to abandon themselves to their fate. That is insufficient.”

“I am abandoned, I am nothing but abandoned; abandonment is all there is,” she screamed back. “Make your myths but I’ll not believe in them.”

surface detail - ian m. banks

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plum-taffy · 10 months

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💒?

I was hoping I’d get this one!! This is going to be super long (and include pictures) so yeah 👍 I haven’t been to a wedding before, and the only time I’ve planned one was for my high school one act last year, so hopefully this isn’t too janky. The photos are just to give a general idea of what I'm talking about ^^ Many don't match completely with what I describe

The Location:

-Camp Campbell itself. No doubt about it. Those mfs are sentimental bitches.

-They would have the ceremony by the lake and the reception in the activities field in one of those massive tents.

-For some reason, I imagine them getting married in November. I wanted a summer wedding but felt like it would have been a bit difficult for them to handle the kids along with all of the arrangements that come with planning a wedding.

-So, I thought it’d be super cute if David and Max had them do some kind of activity that could later be used in the wedding for decoration. So like, have the campers make origami wreaths to be used as certain pieces on tables/origami flowers for the arbor, or maybe a few draw a picture of Max and David to be given as wedding gifts. David thinks it's super adorable, Max likes that it saves them money.

-And they definitely send out the wedding photos to the campers afterward!

Decoration:

-The whole color scheme is dark green, white, and beige with some blue thrown in.

-A lot of the decor is handmade, mostly because they like the kind of homey feeling all the handmade stuff gives the wedding, but also it means they can put the unspent money towards a better honeymoon

-All the flowers were given to them by the flower scouts, who are more than pleased to help out with a wedding. White Peonies and Lisianthus are the flowers of choice for their arbor, and the origami flowers are scattered throughout to give it a pop of color

-The chairs are basic white beach chairs, with the outer ones having small paper flower bouquets the campers made tied to them

-The arbor sits in between the two docks and has petals scattered around it. Some burlap ribbons are probably tied around the dock posts for added decor

-In the tent, the ceiling is covered in string lights and fake garland

-Lots of potted plants ^^

-The tables were dragged out from the mess hall and have flower vases and candles lining them (The candles smell like vanilla!)

-The tables also have a long white tablecloth going down the center with a dark green one on top

-The flower vases are filled with more Peonies and Lisianthus, although they have the added additions of baby breath, boxwood stems, and cornflower

-Of course, all the tables have the origami wreaths laid out in between vases

-The plates and cutlery are pretty basic, but the cutlery is wrapped in cloth with some more cornflowers attached!

-There’s a small table for the cake in the upper center of the room, near the dance floor

-A white tarp is laid down for the makeshift dance floor

-There are a few plastic tables pushed together with more tablecloths on top so that guests have an area to put the food they brought down

Attendance:

-Pretty small wedding. It has the OG campers and some of their parents, Campbell and QM, some of the old flower scouts (some of which are now garden mothers), Penelope, maybe the woodscouts, and some other unnamed friends and OCs

-Gwen is David’s best man (woman?). Still haven’t really come up with a concrete headcanon for his family, so she also walks him down the aisle

-Neil is Max’s maid of honor (He won in rock paper scissors against Nikki) and also walks Max down the aisle

-Nikki gets to be the ring bearer, though! I love the idea of her walking down the aisle, Max and David wondering where the rings are, then she whistles, and a massive grey wolf appears with the pillow on its head

-No flower girl yet, but I do like the idea of Gwen eventually having a kiddo of her own, so maybe they would be the flower kid, but I also really like Preston doing it too lol

-Your OC is their groomsman or bridesmaid! :D

-Dolph does a live painting of the reception, which he later gives them as a wedding gift

-Harrison probably does some tricks for entertainment during the night

-A lot of people in attendance help set up everything

-Nurf does a lot of the moving stuff, in addition to wood scouts and Campbell

-The flower scouts help with makeup and hair, in addition to bringing over the flowers

-Dolph, Preston, Nerris, Space Kid, and Ered help create a lot of the decorations

-Some of the members go around to help set tables or lay out chairs or place up the lights

-There are a few things that require actual professional help, but most of the wedding is done by David and Max with everybody else.

Attire:

-David wears a classic black suit, with a green tie and a Lisianthus in his breast pocket. His ring is very simple. A gold band with leaves molded on either side of the certain gem (probably an Emerald)

-For Max, I was a bit more conflicted about his outfit. However, Kiteacups (was that their name? I can’t remember 😭) had this really great drawing of Max in a white and blue Sherwani(?), so I’d go with that. If I can find the picture I’ll add it 👍 His ring is also gold but with a more flower shape gem placement and sapphire as the gem

-He also has a green and blue bouquet that he holds while walking down the aisle

-For Neil and Nikki, and any other maids of honor, they have on blue!

-Neil:

-Nikki:

-And Gwen and the groomsman are in green!

-Gwen:

-The guests are in varying shades of beige, green, and blue.

-Lots of gold jewelry. Many women wear flats because of the grassy/sandy terrain, but some of the flower scouts stick it out with heels

Food:

-More or less a potluck, with a bit of catering

-Max definitely caters Indian food there while David has vegetarian options

-Lots of side dishes and drinks are brought in

-Campbell brings over some of his alcohol from his cellar. QM would also attempt but immediately be shot down because lord knows you’d take a sip of his stuff and end up with liver failure

-Their wedding cake is large and three-tiered. It is very simple, with white buttercream, non-toxic flowers, and a little drawing that one of the campers made as the topper

-Lots of cupcakes too, with the same buttercream and edible white sugar flowers

-They are vanilla flavor ^^

Songs:

-Country music is playing, thanks to David. He’d probably break out the guitar and force everybody to sing the camp song and sing a love song to Max toward the end of the night

-While David has all the romance and slow songs, Max definitely has all the dance songs playing

-Lots of rap, some indie music, maybe a bit of the 2010s pop songs (I like it, alright.) Overall, just a lot of upbeat, makes you want to dance music

-No DJ, but they do have speakers and Max’s laptop that they play music on. People can go up to it and put a song in the queue

-As for the song they dance to… idk 😭 There are so many options like Never Knew I Needed, Take My Name, La Da Dee, Parachute, When I Said I Do, All of Me, etc. However, I think I’ll have to go with Marry You by Bruno Mars as it was the song one of my fics was based on.

-For the ‘Father-Daughter dance’ Max drags Nikki and Neil onto the dance floor and David does the same to Gwen when it’s his turn. Max enjoys it way more

Honey Moon:

-It’s technically a part of the wedding

-I like to think that they go up to Alaska and rent a VERY nice cabin up in the mountains

-Lots of skiing, hiking, a bit of fishing, and definitely watching the northern lights

-Just cozy vibes. Fireplace-going, home-cooked meals, cuddling under blankets

-They stay for about a week or two. Some days they spend the entire day away from the cabin and others they don’t even get out of bed

-Max takes a lot of photos

Other miscellaneous stuff:

-Campbell sets off fireworks (illegally) at the end of the night

-When Max does the bouquet toss, Preston gets it. You better believe there was some pushing and shoving from everybody involved

-QM officiates the wedding

-When Max isn’t super busy, he takes photos on his own camera. He’d do the entire wedding himself if he wasn’t, ya know, the one getting married

-In the future, the campers learn that if they want to get out of an activity, just ask David about his wedding

-The platypus is there. Idk what it does but she’s there

-It goes on until far into the morning

-David is a groomzilla. He wants to make sure everything if perfect for his and Max’s special day. Gwen has to help him calm down a lot

-A lot of the DIY stuff they used they also keep. Probably show their future kid (Jai!) all of it, along with wedding photos and videos

-Neil and Nikki were fighting hard for the MOH spot until Max had to put a stop to it. A game of RPS was decided and Neil won. Nikki is pretty pleased as ring bear though

-QM gives David some ‘fatherly’ advice before the wedding or attempts to. David is a bit confused afterward

-They eventually have their rings turned into necklaces, so they can’t be lost as easily or get caught on something

-Wedding gifts go:

Campbell: Really expensive whiskey

QM: A good luck charm

Gwen: Tickets for a hockey game when they go to Alaska

Neil: A new coffee maker

Nikki: A windchime

Dolph: The live reception painting

Nerris: An enchanted wedding ring box

Preston: Homemade knitted Blanket

Space Kid: Snow globe, but with a wedding inside

Nurf: Wooden welcome sign (hand carved)

Ered: Money

Harrison: Nature pillows

-Too lazy to think of the rest, so probably just a lot more money and house necessities

#maxvid #proship #so hyped for maxvid week!!

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the-cult-of-riley · 4 months

Text

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twenty Two)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: He’s finally back baybeeeee!

Simon’s out here making moves in this one. It's pretty long and a complete rollercoaster of emotions. I could have split this one into two chapters but I’m lazy so… lmao

Also, Mard means being a whiny little baby, just for reference.

Placebo - English Summer Rain

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

Always stays the same, nothing ever changes

English summer rain seems to last for ages

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

I'm in the basement, you're in the sky

I'm in the basement baby, drop on by

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Start again, start again

Hold your breath and count to ten

Then fall apart and start again

Simon's body felt like it weighed a tonne. He leaned against the elevator wall, eyes closed as he fought an exhaustion so deep, it clawed at his insides. The last ten months had been more gruelling than anything he'd ever done, but it was done now. He'd done it. The pride he felt tugging in his chest was almost overwhelming and he couldn't wait to see Lottie. She obviously knew he made it, but he wanted to tell her how well he did, wanted her to be proud of him.

God, he'd missed her. Being away from her with zero contact had been worse than the RTI training and he couldn't wait to get inside and grab her. He wondered how she'd been these past months, if she was alright. He'd been planning on ringing his mum to let her know he was back and asking how Charlotte had been, yet he'd been far too tired. It was only 9.43 pm but he hadn't slept in what felt like forever. The training had ended and he'd been shoved right back on a plane back for his leave before it started for real.

His muscles were firmer, bigger, than before he left. He hadn't been out of shape in the least but all this training had toned him up even more. He wondered if Lottie would like it or not, wondered a lot about what went on in her head. As the lift doors opened, he breathed a sigh of relief before stepping out and trudging his way to their apartment. The second he'd got on the plane, he'd been itching to just get home, get in bed with Lottie all to himself so he could fall asleep with her in his arms again finally. He'd had to make one stop before getting home but now he was here.

His lips quirked up as he saw the Halloween decorations on the door. A little spooky wreath with pumpkins and ghosts, a real carved pumpkin with a lit candle just outside the door to the right. There was still a couple of days until Halloween but clearly, his girl had been busy. He eased the door open slowly, instantly being greeted by music. Placebo. He tried to place the song and it didn't hit him until he heard some lyrics. English Summer Rain.

He looked around, seeing Charlotte in the kitchen area in one of his t-shirts and either tiny shorts or just her knickers, he couldn't tell. She was messing about with something in the oven, her body dancing about a bit to the music. He watched her with an amused smirk as she took a tray out of the oven and heavily set it on the counter. The smell drifted over to him and he almost groaned at the delicious cinnamon smell. She was singing along, swaying her hips and having a good time. It was such a lovely sight to come home to and he wanted to burn it into his brain for the rest of his days.

She turned around, yelping loudly with a hand flying to her chest as he watched her with a fond grin. It took her a moment for her brain to register what she was seeing but then her eyes widened, a face splitting grin on her lips before she squealed and ran around the counter. He dropped his duffle bag just in time to catch her, lifting her up as her legs wrapped around his waist.

He felt the same feeling he had after getting home with his last deployment, like his thirst was being quenched after being denied water for far too long. He held her close, greedily inhaling her scent as he nuzzled the side of her face. She pulled her head away to look down at him and his heart felt like it expanded in size at the look she gave him. She gripped either side of his face with her small hands, looking at him like she wasn't sure he was real.

“Hello, love,” he murmured and her eyes turned glassy, her smile watery.

“I missed you,” she didn't give him time to respond because her lips were then on his. He sighed softly, body relaxing as he kissed her back and enjoyed the comfort it brought him. When she pulled away, he couldn't tear his eyes off her.

“I missed you too,” he breathed, glad to be finally back with her. “Somethin’ smells good,” he commented, his stomach growling at the sweet scent filling the apartment.

“Cinnamon rolls, your mum taught me how to make them,” a deep and steadying warmth wrapped around him at her words, something tugging in his chest at the idea of his mum being here and taking care of her, of teaching her things. She looked so proud of herself too. She wriggled until he let her go and he instantly felt the loss of her against him, watching as she rushed over to the kitchen.

“Sit down, I’ll be over in a minute,” she smiled over her shoulder at him and he complied simply because he felt ready to pass out. He groaned as the couch swallowed him whole, sinking deeper into the cushions as his body started to relax thoroughly. She came over not too long later with a cinnamon roll in her hand and a can of Guinness. He raised a brow at her with an amused smile and she snorted, handing them over to him.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, figured I'd get some in for you,” she explained sheepishly.

“Appreciate it, love,” he murmured, popping the can open and taking a long swig of it with a content sigh. He took a large bite of the cinnamon roll, eyes practically rolling back into his head with how amazing it tasted.

“Good then?” she asked hopefully and he nodded eagerly, munching the rest of it easily.

“Perfect,” he hummed, licking the icing off his fingers that was still wet. He presumed she’d just put it on when she was in the kitchen. She beamed a smile at him, so pretty it fucking hurt him. That smile was the only thing in his mind when the SAS was putting him through the ringer, making sure he wouldn't spill his secrets to the enemy. He knew he was strong willed, growing up with an abusive father would do that to you, but she’d strengthened his resolve even more. She’d helped him get through the whole ordeal, the prospect of getting back to her and making her proud driving him on.

“How did it go then? Was it hard? Did they hurt you?” she asked, hovering so close she might as well be on top of him, not that he’d complain at all.

“Was alright, bit rough but I got through it. Made it through top five,” he couldn't help the pride in his voice knowing not only did he get through, but he ranked high up enough to get noticed. Her face lit up with a wide smile and his pride flared even more.

“I knew you could do it!” she grinned and his heart stuttered in his chest. She leaned over, pressing her lips to his sweetly, making him melt all over again. When she pulled away, her eyes scanned his tired face as he blinked slowly at her and she smiled sweetly at him, taking the can from his hand and putting it on the coffee table.

“You wanna go to bed? You look shattered,” she murmured, her hand running through his short hair and making him shiver slightly. Part of him wanted to protest because he’d only just got home, felt like he’d spent no time with her. He was tired though and laying in bed with her wrapped around him sounded divine right about now. He had plans for the next day anyway and he knew he needed the rest.

“Sounds good, love,” he smiled and she nodded as she got up. She was already ready for bed and he stripped off to just his boxers before heavily flopping into bed. She wasted no time crawling in beside him, giggling when he snaked his arms around her and pulled her to lay her head on his chest. She wrapped a leg around him and he felt an overwhelming comfort at feeling her pressed against him like this. The last ten months had been hell trying to sleep without her.

“I love you so much,” he muttered sleepily, feeling her smile against his chest.

“I love you too,” she replied softly, snuggling closer to him. Having her so close, being able to feel her, smell her, it soothed all of his fried nerves and his body finally felt safe, finally felt okay to relax and let go. He drifted off to sleep easily, better than he had in months.

“Riley, CO wants you.”

Simon looked over at the man who he couldn't seem to place, someone a little higher up than he was here. He nodded, wondering what he’d done to call the attention of his superior, hoping he hadn’t fucked up somehow since he was new here. He’d felt secure in his place in the army, knowing his squad and his CO there well. This was different and it was strange to be back at the start all over again, even if he was still ranked as a Sergeant. He made his way to his CO’s office, back straight, head held high. He was pretty sure he hadn’t messed up so he wondered what he wanted, hoped it wasn't about a deployment so soon. Lottie would kill him.

He knocked on the wooden door and heard the man tell him to come in. He walked inside, standing at the other side of the desk, looking at the older man with greying hair.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked, feeling a pinch of nerves when the man frowned in a weird way. A pitying way.

“Sit down, son,” he ordered and something in his tone set Simon on edge, so much so that he ignored his CO’s order.

“What is it?” he asked warily and the man heaved a sigh, running a hand over his weary face.

“You need to go to the hospital. They called and need you to identify a body,” he informed him and suddenly, Simon's world stopped turning. A body. Someone was dead.

“Who is it? My mum? Is it Charlotte?” he asked rapidly, swaying on his feet as his blood pressure skyrocketed. His CO stood up, rushing over to him and steadying him where he stood.

“They wouldn't tell me, Simon, I’m sorry. You just need to get over there,” he frowned sadly and Simon was sure he’d throw up.

Everything was a blur. One minute he was in his CO’s office, the next he was standing in the hallway of the hospital. He wasn't sure how he even got here, his brain completely shutting down on him. The sign on the door in front of him said morgue and his chest caved in, ragged with his rough breathing. He pushed the door open, his lower lip wobbling at the table lay out there, someone under a sheet. He couldn't breathe, pitiful noises leaving his lips as he took slow steps towards the sheet.

“Are you ready, Mr Riley?” he looked up, seeing a woman in a hospital uniform giving him a sad look, standing at the head of the body. He wanted to say no, wanted to tell her he couldn’t face knowing whoever was under there was dead, because no matter who it was, it would ruin him. He nodded his head though, needing to know. She pulled the sheet down, revealing his precious angel and the noise he made was that of a wounded animal.

“No… no, no, no,” he wept, stumbling over to her as he shook his head frantically. She looked so peaceful as she lay there, serene, as if she was in a deep sleep. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be, it wasn't fair. Deep gut wrenching sobs ripped out of his throat as he cradled her face. Her skin was ice cold and he internally begged her to wake up, for it all to be a dream.

“Come on, Simon, what you being mard for?” a rough voice asked him and he tearfully whipped around to see none other than his weathered father standing there. Something was very wrong though because Simon had to look up to see him, not down at him like the last time he’d seen him. He frowned in confusion, turning back to the table with Lottie on it, only to be a few foot shorter. He yelped, a hard hand gripping the back of his neck harshly and jostling his body.

“Stop your whinin’, you stupid boy! Laugh!” his father bellowed, shoving him closer to the body of his beloved.

“Dad, no! Stop!” he pleaded, his voice nothing like that he was used to, not anymore. His dad pressed his face against Charlotte’s, only now she didn't look serene, she didn't look peaceful. Her dead eyes were wide open in terror, mouth contorted in an unnatural way. He started yelling, pushing back the hold his dad had on him as his dad started to laugh like a man deranged.

“Stop it! Please, stop!” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he couldn't fight against his fathers hold on him, couldn't get away.

He flew up with a heaving gasp, his lungs burning and his body on fire. There was a loud pitch ringing in his ears and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Suddenly, he felt hands grabbing at him, making him panic and lurch away. It caused him to fall off his side of the bed with a thud. He blinked slowly at the dark ceiling and then squinted when the bedroom light came to life with no warning. The ringing in his ears started to subside, his breathing regulating a little, but then Charlotte came into view, peering down at him in concern and he felt shame and embarrassment worm its way so deep inside of him that it was rotting his bones.

A nightmare, of course it was. Or more like a nightmare mixed with a memory. How fucked was that then? He'd not had a single nightmare since he'd started his relationship with Charlotte, since the very first night they fucking met. It had been a pure relief for him, reprieve from the torment that always seemed to plague him. She'd made it all better, taken away his past pain, but now they decided to start back up.

He knew why, he wasn't fucking stupid. The stress of his SAS training had cracked his fucking dome in, ripped down the walls that Charlotte had so lovingly put up for him to keep his nightmares at bay. The nightmare might not have been about the torture he endured in training but he knew that's what triggered it.

It wasn't that he did badly, in fact he passed with flying colours unlike some of the other hopefuls that wound up too traumatised to carry on. But it was brutal and there wasn't a single SAS soldier alive who could say they came out of that training without some mental fucking scars. It had ripped barely healed wounds right open for him and he felt so disgusted with himself. He felt weak and it was only made worse by the barely concealed pity in his girl's eyes. He never wanted her to look at him like that. Like she felt fucking sorry for him. He was better than this, stronger.

“Are you okay?” She asked sweetly, her voice low and calm like she was talking to a spooked animal. It poked at the raw wound pulsating in his chest and he felt an uncomfortable heat building inside of him. She held her hand out for him and he ignored it as he hopped to his feet. He could feel his face burning in shame as he refused to look at her.

“I'm fine,” he bit out, needing desperately to get away from her and those sad blue eyes. He started stomping off and out of the room, hearing her rushed footsteps behind him.

“Simon…“ she murmured, pity and worry coating her words like she didn't know what to say and he couldn't take it.

“I said I'm fuckin' fine! Just leave it!” He snapped, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door so hard, the mirror above the sink wobbled.

Regret hit him like a freight train instantly at talking to her like that and he gripped the edge of the sink, lowering his head as he heaved ragged breaths. She didn't deserve that, she just wanted to help him. Had a heart of fucking gold and he just ripped it to shreds. He hated himself. Hated himself more when he heard a pitiful sniffle from outside the door where he'd left her and his chest felt like it was caving in on himself. What a bastard he was, just like his dad. The rage flowed through him to such a degree it worried him, the urge to punch the mirror and shatter the useless piece of shit staring back at him. He pushed it down though, taking long and deep breaths as he tried to allow the feelings to pass. His poor sweet girl. Fuck.

He scrubbed at his eyes, feeling sick when he found them damp and he shook his head. It wasn't her fault his father had been a mean bastard. Wasn't her fault that even though he wasn't a weak boy anymore that his past still haunted him. He didn't want to be that monster, didn't want to be his fucking father. He was better than that, he knew he was. He still felt that lingering grief at losing her that his nightmare had evoked. It felt so real, that loss of her, so harrowing he knew he’d fucking off himself if that ever happened. His life wouldn't be worth living.

With a shaky breath and heavy chest, he pushed open the bathroom door. As he walked out, he saw Charlotte in the kitchen in only his shirt that swamped her. Her back was to him as she fussed over a cup and he noticed it was his cup, she didn't have one. He'd bit her head off and here she was, making him a fucking brew. And he knew before he even said anything she was blaming herself, somehow justifying his bullshit as her fault, that she deserved it and it made him feel nasty inside. Made him feel like a vile cunt for contributing to her already ruined self esteem. She hadn't noticed him as she stirred the tea and his heart clenched when her spare hand wiped quickly at her eyes.

“Love…” he murmured contritely, shame weighing on him heavily only this time it was less to do with embarrassing himself. She whipped around to look at him and he wanted to strangle himself at her red rimmed and glassy eyes.

“Are you-” she started as if on instinct but then her mouth clamped shut like she didn't want another earful off him. It made his shoulders slump as he carefully approached her. “I-I made you tea,” she muttered with a wobbly voice, forcing a smile for him as she grabbed the cup. He winced, eyes burning as he blinked quickly.

“I'm sorry,” he breathed tearfully, his voice cracking as he looked at her and how unsure she seemed to be around him. She looked at him and then the cup still in her hands, shifting on her feet.

“It's okay, you were going through stuff,” she shrugged with a shake of her head and he frowned. He grabbed the cup from her hand and put it on the counter, causing her to look at him warily. He grasped at one of her hands, pressing it against his chest where his ruthless heart lay beating steadily.

“Don't do that. Don't ever make excuses for me when I act like a bastard, Charlotte. You never deserve me to snap at you like that,” he insisted firmly. He wouldn't do this to her, wouldn't become his father, wouldn't be a mean twat. He wouldn't tear her to pieces like a piece of paper. She looked uncomfortable and he knew her brain was having a hard time with accepting his words, always thinking she was at fault. He was grateful she didn't argue with him though, he didn't have it in him right now. She nodded, her thumb rubbing against his chest soothingly.

“I forgive you,” she whispered and while he felt relieved, he still felt like a bastard about it because he knew she'd forgive him no matter what he did. Knew she'd never hold him responsible for fucking anything.

“I love you,” his voice sounded pleading almost, but for what he didn't know. He hurt her and he needed her to know that he loved her more than anything. A pretty smile graced her face and she took his limply hanging hand. She mimicked him, pressing it against her heart that he could feel fluttering against his hand.

“I love you too. And I'm always here, whether you need someone to talk to or you need space. Just let me know,” she said quietly and he knew she was right. He'd always kept his work away from her and he still intended to but she deserved to know what upset him like this. While nightmares were something he was used to, Charlotte wasn't aware of that. This was new for her to see him this way because she usually kept them away.

He grabbed his cup with one hand, her hand with the other before he led her to the couch. He set his tea on the coffee table before sitting down and tugging her to sit with him. As she went to sit next to him, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to straddle him. She came willingly, settling against his chest like she belonged there, her head lay on his shoulder and her nose against his neck. His arms encircled her instantly, seeking out closeness and comfort.

Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to go to her after something like this, instead of pushing her away. He felt his muscles relax instantly under her touch. She waited patiently as she lay there with him, her fingers drawing patterns on his bare chest and he allowed one of his hands to slide up her back under his shirt she was wearing, wanting to feel her skin.

“It was a nightmare,” he started with a low voice and it felt like she pressed herself closer at his admission.

“Was it the training?” She asked in a whisper, her voice caring and gentle. He pressed his nose against her head, breathing in her scent deeply and allowing it to soothe him.

“Was and it wasn't. Wasn't about what happened there but… but it dragged a lot of shit up for me. Stuff with my dad,” he admitted. He could feel his cheeks heat up at talking about it so openly despite the fact she already knew about his father. She moved to sit up then as if sensing the gravity of the conversation.

She gave him a soft look as her hands smoothed up his chest. His hands wandered her body before settling on her thighs, rubbing and squeezing them like they were a squishy stress toy. He could have left it at that admission and be done with it, she wasn't prying for more information, but he found himself wanting to tell her, needing to get the poison out of his system once and for all.

“You know what he was like, the shit he did, but… one of the worst was… He took me to this metal concert, a band he liked. Drug use was just part and parcel of bein' there. At one point I couldn't find him so I went lookin’... Found him in the bathroom with a prostitute. They were shootin’ up in one of the stalls, only… only she was fuckin' dead. OD’d on the bullshit. And my dad, he… he found it fuckin' hilarious, forced me to stare at her, force me to laugh at her dead body,” he grit out, eyes unseeing for a moment as he felt the same feelings he felt all those years ago. Fear, disgust, shame, sadness. His dad hadn't saw any worth in the woman just because she was a sex worker but she was someone's daughter. Maybe someone sister or mother or aunt. She was a person and he'd been forced to look at her lifeless body and laugh like she was nothing but the butt of a bad joke. He couldn't bring himself to tell her his nightmare was a twist of that memory, that she’d been dead instead of the prostitute.

He was dragged out of his miserable thoughts when Charlotte's warm hands cupped his cheeks, making his dark eyes snap to hers. Her brows were pinched together as her thumbs swiped over his cheeks.

“You didn't deserve to go through that,” she muttered and his fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs at the concern in her eyes. It wasn't so much pity as just not liking the fact he'd been through something like that. The same feelings he had when thinking of her past.

“I really hope I get to meet him one day so I can kick him in the nuts,” she huffed, a scowl on her pretty face. Despite everything, his lips quirked up at the image she’d provided him with. He knew she couldn't hurt a fly, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same.

“You gonna beat him up for me?” he asked in amusement and she gave him a wry grin.

“Damn right I will,” she said firmly and his smile widened. Fuck, he loved her. How she managed to bring him back from the brink of his own dark mind was beyond him. He wasn't sure how he’d cope if he didn't have her in his life. One of his hands left her thigh, moving to cup her cheek. He enjoyed how she always leaned into his touch.

“You mean the world to me, love,” he murmured, eyes shining at her affectionately. He was sure he looked moon eyed as he gazed at her, nothing but a lovesick fool. The prettiest smile painted her lips and he was breathless, struck by how absolutely stunning she was. And she was all his. She leaned in, pecking his lips with a sweet kiss as she smiled at him.

“You mean the world to me too.” He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her love but he was damn sure gonna keep it. He’d do whatever it took to keep her by his side. His nightmare had been harrowingly realistic and he’d felt every emotion as if it had played out in real life. He knew what it felt like to lose her and he didn't think he’d ever shake that feeling for as long as he lived. He took comfort in her weight on him, in feeling her warm breath fanning his neck as she tucked herself neatly there, at feeling her chest expand with each breath, pressing against his. He’d make sure he never felt that feeling again.

When Simon woke up the next morning, his neck was stiff as a board. It took him a moment to get his bearings, realising he was asleep lay on the couch. The night before came back to him, the nightmare, Charlotte comforting him. They’d stayed on the couch all night and she’d wound up getting her Grimm’s book, reading to him. He must have fallen asleep. But now he was wondering where the hell she was and he sat up, looking over the couch and seeing her flitting about in the kitchen. He groaned softly, stretching his sore muscles from the way he’d slept and he felt bad for falling asleep on her like that, for waking her up with his nightmare to begin with. He stood up, rubbing his tired eyes as he padded into the kitchen.

She looked over at him, radiant smile on her lips that always punched him in the chest every time he saw it. She was wearing just one of his shirts and he knew it was his favourite outfit on her.

“Good mornin’, love,” he murmured, his voice slightly raspy from sleep.

“Good afternoon,” she replied wryly, a smirk tugging at her lips as his brows shot up. He looked at the clock quickly, seeing it was indeed 12.46 pm. He hadn’t realised he’d slept for so long but fuck knows, he needed it.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he frowned, feeling bad about waking up so late.

“Don’t be. You were proper knackered, especially after… waking up like you did. You needed the rest,” she smiled sweetly at him. He noticed the pan then and the smell of eggs and he felt a tugging in his chest.

“Eggy bread?” he asked hoarsely, so many memories hitting him all at once it made his head spin. The little smile on her face made him think she was aware of what was going on in his head.

“Your mum taught me how to make it. She said she’d try and make it for you and Tommy on special occasions, so…” she trailed off, looking somewhat uncertain. The tugging in his chest got worse and worse, the gesture touching him. He had so many lovely memories tied to this simple dish, memories of his mother trying her best for him and his brother, despite their awful father.

“What we celebratin’, then?” he asked curiously, trying to rid the emotion clogging up his throat. She gave him a funny look, tilting her head at him.

“You,” she said simply and he just blinked at her. “You being back here, you getting through the SAS stuff with flying colours,” she added softly and he felt his ears burning at the tips. The idea of being celebrated was foreign to him, especially if it wasn't his birthday, but it touched him and he smiled down at her.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, making her beam a smile at him. He was excited for the food, he hadn't had it in a while and he always enjoyed it.

“You're welcome. You can get something on if you want, it's almost done,” she grinned, gesturing to his state of undress in just his boxers. He did have plans for the day she was unaware of so it would do him good to get dressed. He leaned down, kissing her lips with a smile before he sauntered off to the bedroom.

The bed was neatly made now, unlike the disarray he left it in after his nightmare. Everything was back where it should be. He got himself into some dark jeans and the sage green jumper she’d bought him at some point. She really loved him in jumpers apparently. He came out as she was plating up and his stomach growled loudly as he moved to sit at the dining table. A plate full of eggy bread and beans was placed in front of him and he didn't even wait for her, digging in and making her laugh at him. She joined him, her own plate with the same but a little less food as they ate together. It was so nostalgic for him, remembering every birthday he and Tommy had where his mother managed to make it for them. It had become a routine and one he’d cherished as a child.

He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they ate, wondering if she was even real. He had half a mind to think he was in some insane asylum somewhere and this whole thing was a figment of his imagination. How was it possible for someone to be so kind and caring, to be so loving and giving?

“What?” she asked after catching him, wiping her face as if she thought she had food there.

“Nothin’, you're just…” he trailed off, nerves and excitement blooming in his stomach at the plans he had for the day, his feelings for her only getting stronger with each passing second he spent with her.

“I’m just what?” she asked, eyeing him warily and he smiled warmly at her.

“Perfect,” he supplied simply. She flushed delightfully, looking down with a bashful smile on her face.

“We’ve been over this,” she rolled her eyes playfully but her blush didn't ease. He wanted to launch himself over the table and fuck her into next week when she looked all coy and shy like this. Wanted to make her sing.

“Yeah, yeah. No one’s perfect and all that. Except that's a load of bollocks, ‘cause you are,” he argued with a smirk and he didn't think it was possible, but she blushed even harder.

She wouldn’t look at him for a moment, a shy smile she was trying to suppress still on her face. When she lifted those beautiful blue eyes to his, he wanted to drop to his knees in reverence to her.

“If I’m perfect, then so are you,” she muttered, almost pouting and he chuckled at her. He wasn't going to argue with her because he knew she wouldn't hear any of it. If he had to go along with her bullshit so she’d accept a bloody compliment off him then he’d do it. They finished their food off with shared smiles and blushes on her part. before he got up, taking both their plates over to the sink and ignoring Lottie’s protests as he did.

“Get your arse dressed, got some shit planned,” he ordered from the sink, not even looking at her as his nerves expanded from his stomach to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Oooh, where are we going?” she asked excitedly and he was surprised when she suddenly wrapped her arms around him from behind. She’d really turned the tables on him since this was what he usually liked to do to her and he knew it must of looked bonkers from the other side with her being so small. He smiled to himself as her hands slid up his jumper, smoothing up his muscles and drawing a happy little hum from her.

“Not tellin’ you, so get dressed,” he smirked and she heaved a large sigh, resting her forehead on his back.

“Fine,” she almost whined but he could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see it. A kiss was placed on his back before her arms disappeared and he found himself longing for her again already. Was mad how he fucking missed her even though she was right there, how the fuck did that work?

As she dressed, he got the kitchen nice and clean, putting everything away when he was done. He noticed something on the fridge then that he hadn't noticed the night before, being as tired as he was. It was a picture tacked to the fridge with a little heart magnet and the picture made his heart stutter against his ribs. It was a picture of Lottie holding little Joseph. He hadn't seen the boy since he got back yet but he’d grown already so much. By Simon’s calculations, he’d be 11 months now. He wondered what milestones he’d missed, was he walking yet? Joseph was sitting on Lottie’s knee with a precious smile on his chubby little face and Lottie was looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ. It was the same look she’d worn at the hospital when she looked at him, now encapsulated in a photograph. It stirred so many feelings in him as he looked at it.

“Me, Beth and Jo went to town, had dinner at Cafe Metro. Beth took the picture, I didn't even realise she’d taken it until after she had it printed.” He jumped, not even hearing her come back in and he whipped around to see her now dressed.

She was wearing an outfit he hadn’t been privy to yet and he wondered if she'd gotten it when he was away. The skirt was black, high waisted and long, reaching her calves and fitted to her silhouette exquisitely, a slit going up the side no doubt to help her walk with ease. She’d put on some black tights and her top was a cropped jumper, the colour almost matching his with the pretty green colour she loved so much. The amused smirk on her face had him wondering if she’d picked it to match him on purpose.

“Is this okay?” she asked as she looked down at herself, still having no idea what he had planned. A hum reverberated low in his throat and he grasped her hips, pulling her closer to him greedily and making her giggle as her hands spread over his chest.

“Perfect. Love the skirt,” he hadn’t meant it to but his voice came out a mere growl as his hands slid around to her arse. The skirt hugged her perfectly and he was enjoying how it clung to her curves.

“Remind me to wear it again, then,” she grinned cheekily, perching up on her tiptoes to give him a slow and languid kiss that set his blood on fire. He hadn’t taken her since he got back yet and as much as he wanted to put her over the table and rut into her until she was sobbing with pleasure, they had shit to do.

“Stop distractin’ me, you little minx. Shoes and coat on,” he ordered, giving her arse a smack for good measure before ushering her off. She laughed as she moved away, eyes twinkling with mischief as she went off to do as she was told, pulling her Docs on with her leather jacket. He moved to put his hoodie on before slipping off into the bedroom.

He shut the door before quickly hurrying over to his duffel bag by the bed that he still hadn’t emptied. He crouched, tilting his head to keep his ear out for a moment and when he couldn't hear Lottie at all, he unzipped the bag and rummaged around at the bottom of it. Once he found what he was looking for, he grabbed it, slipping it into his pocket. When he left the room, his girl was fully ready and patiently waiting for him. She shot him a beautiful smile as he approached and he smiled back, unable not to when she made his chest so warm.

“Ready?” he asked her, getting a nod in return.

“Ready.”

He was stalling and he knew he was but he really couldn't help it, not when nerves kept seizing his limbs in a vice. It wasn't that he was having second thoughts, his mind was firmly set and nothing would change that, but how the fuck was he to know how she’d react? That was the terrifying part, to put himself out there so openly and be rejected. He knew she loved him, he didn’t doubt that for a second but it didn’t mean she would go along with his crazy fucking plan now, did it? They were in the city centre and he’d taken her shopping. She’d outright refused at first, telling him they were supposed to be celebrating him and not her, but he promptly told her that since they were celebrating him, he should be able to do whatever he wanted, including spoiling his girlfriend. That had shut her up for a bit. He loved spoiling her though and eventually, she’d given in, knowing there was no use in fighting him and allowed him to just buy her shit.

They’d gotten some Lush, easing her mind a little when he told her he fully expected to get in those baths with her and enjoy the bath bombs and bubble bars she’d gotten. He got her some clothes but she didn't want much, said the clothes weren’t worth the money and he had to admit he agreed, even if she did force him to treat himself to some bits and pieces. They’d sat in Waterstones too for a bit, gathering a small collection of books for the pair of them and enjoying the quiet atmosphere in there as they perused the shelves.

It was a nice day, calming, to just walk about with her like this. But as the day had worn on, that biting anxiety had started to get more and more intense until he couldn't ignore it. Couldn’t ignore it when he took her to the same Italian place they’d gone to all that time ago. She’d been so happy about it and he’d spent the entire time feeling like he might pass out with how light headed he was feeling. She’d picked up on it embarrassingly enough. Apparently he looked pale and worse for wear and he’d lied right to her face, told her he was just feeling under the weather. Felt like a right bastard when she’d taken his hand across the table and suggested they go home so she could look after him. He only agreed because he needed to get this over with. The longer he waited, the worse these feelings would be and he really didn’t want to fuck the whole thing up because he was panicking. Knowing the potential to ruin absolutely everything, he was losing his damn mind.

“Are we not getting the bus?” she asked softly, her hand clasping his as they strolled down the dark street. The lamp posts were the only thing illuminating it, giving it a slightly yellow tinge.

“Yeah, just not this one,” he murmured and she looked at him with realisation and a pretty smile, curling her other hand around his arm, practically hugging it.

“Are we taking a trip down memory lane?” she asked cheekily, fluttering those long lashes at him. It always surprised him that all he had to do was look at her and he remembered he was a fucking goner for her. Absolutely done in, had no chance.

“Maybe,” he replied, making her smile widen as she leaned her head on his arm for a moment.

She was practically clinging to him and he was soaking every little bit of her affection up. When they got to the same bus stop he met her at, the feelings inside his chest were whirling around like a hurricane. He watched her, completely enraptured as she looked around, not having been here in a bit. Was nothing remarkable, just a fucking bus stop, but it changed everything. She made a move to sit at the bench but his hand tightened around hers, pulling her back over to him as she blinked up at him in question.

“I… think about this bus stop a lot,” he confessed, his heart thumping hard against his chest. “It’s mad really… I coulda gone to any one of ‘em, yet… I was here and then you came along.” he hadn't really prepared a speech. God knows he bloody tried but this kind of stuff didn't come easy to him and he’d given up trying to script it, decided to just wing it but now he wasn't sure his words were the right ones or that it was coming out the way he wanted it to. His free hand moved to stroke her cheek as she looked at him with those wide and loving eyes, a sweet smile toying on her lips.

“I’m really glad you chose this bus top,” she murmured as she gave his hand a squeeze. He smiled but it was shaky, much like his breathing as he stepped even closer to her, his thumb swiping over her slightly flushed cheek. He needed to just get it out of him, purge it from his system and so the flood gates opened and the words just tumbled right out of him.

“You know I’m not good with words. I wish I could tell you just how much you mean to me but I don’t think there's any words in the English language to do it justice. Tellin’ you that I love you just doesn't feel enough. You came into my life with all your light and chased all the shadows away, you gave me things I never thought I wanted or deserved. I didn't think… I never thought I could love like I do with you, never thought I could be loved. You’ve changed my life completely and I’m a better man for it, for you. I realised somethin’ back before I went off for selection, fuckin’ hit me like a freight train and then I couldn’t shake it. I knew I wanted this, us, you, forever. I knew that you're it for me, all I’ll ever need,” she was watching him intently, eyes shining slightly as she looked at him like she couldn't quite comprehend his words and he knew her insecure brain was probably trying to wrap her head around it. He took a deep and shaky inhale, letting go of her hand and her face, making her brows furrow slightly.

“Charlotte… I… fuck… “ his heart was galloping a mile a minute and he could feel his pulse in his neck. He was sure he was about to keel over from a medical emergency with the way his body was carrying on. He wanted to continue his grand speech, wanted to keep declaring his undying love for her but the words got stuck in his throat as he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. He shoved his hand in his pocket, grabbing what was in there before he dropped down heavily to one knee, opening the box to reveal a silver ring with a diamond in the centre.

“Will you marry me, love?” his voice was bordering on hysterical pleading as his wide eyes implored at her from where he kneeled. The rapid beating of his heart only increased when she stared at him unblinking and he started to worry he’d made a colossal mistake by doing this. Maybe it was too soon, maybe she didn't even want to get married, he’d never bothered to ask her thoughts on the subject because he didn't think he was the marrying type himself.

“You… you wanna marry me?” he was broken out of his musings by her soft and incredulous voice and he was just glad she started blinking again.

“Would be mental not to,” he confessed quietly, meaning his words wholeheartedly. His heart was in his throat, completely at her mercy on the floor with his beating heart in her hands. Despite his concern of her crushing it right before his eyes, soft tears fell down her pretty cheeks, a radiant smile curling her lips.

“Yes,” she laughed tearfully and he blinked dumbly at her for a moment, sure he’d heard wrong.

“Yes?” he breathed, hope coating his tone painfully. She wiped her eyes with a laugh, her smile the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” she grinned. The feeling that exploded inside of him felt like a mini heart attack. He couldn't even put it into words, happiness felt too menial of a word. He’d never felt anything quite like this feeling of pure elation and he had a smile of his own on his face, grabbing her hand once she gave it to him and putting the ring on her finger with a shaky hand. He practically bounced up to his feet before capturing her lips in a desperate kiss that she eagerly melted into. She said yes. She was going to be his wife, he was going to fucking marry her. Charlotte Riley, he really liked the sound of that.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

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