#Review: In ‘Difficult Grace

[ausetkmt]

Nov. 20, 2022Difficult GraceNYT Critic's Pick

The cellist Seth Parker Woods presented an evening-long, multimedia program titled “Difficult Grace” Saturday evening at the 92nd Street Y’s Kaufmann Concert Hall. It was the full staging’s world premiere, but, as Woods remarked, he had premiered a “nucleus version” in February 2020 in Seattle; the coronavirus lockdown gave him the opportunity to rework his concept into its current form.

Woods was already a cellist of prodigious technical gifts and sharp intellect. This program has stretched him even further into performing as a spoken word artist and singer as well as instrumentalist.

Aided by the choreographer and dancer Roderick George — a childhood friend from Houston — “Difficult Grace” was a feast for the ears, eyes and mind.

In one portion of Freida Abtan’s “My Heart Is a River,” the audience sees a prerecorded video projection of two dancers as Woods plays live in front of the screen. The dancing figures straddle a cello that they are reimagining as a boat. The performer in front — actually Woods himself, with dancer Tamzin O’Garro behind — is wielding the cello bow as an oar. It’s a marvelously apt metaphor: Woods is an artist rooted in classical music, but whose cello is a vehicle that takes him, and his concertgoers, on wide-ranging journeys.

The program included works by a large roster of composers, many of whom used electronic sound design as well as live acoustic cello: Fredrick Gifford, Monty Adkins, Nathalie Joachim, Abtan, Ted Hearne, Devonté Hynes and Pierre Alexandre Tremblay. (In addition to Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson, who died in 2004.)

Gifford’s piece “Difficult Grace,” which lent its name to the entire program, included projected artwork by Barbara Earl Thomas and was inspired by Dudley Randall’s poetry. Regrettably, it was difficult to discern from the auditorium seats much of what Woods was saying during long spoken-word stretches. (Projected supertitles would be a welcome addition.) The same was true during Hearne’s work with an unprintable title, with texts by the poet Kemi Alabi. Within the most riveting section of Hearne’s piece, Woods sang and played R&B-flavored harmonies atop hip hop-inspired electronic beats.

Each composer who used prerecorded cello and electronic sound design, sometimes with on-the-spot manipulations, did so to very different aesthetic ends. Woods performed two movements from Abtan’s piece (“Opening Out” and “Seeping In”), in which the electronics and the live cello swirled around each other in haunting, echoing duets. Adkins’s gentle, cinematographic “Winter Tendrils,’‘ accompanied by an equally warmhearted film by Zoë McLean, used electronics almost like an invisible string orchestra, framing Woods’s cello in lush, glowing harmonies.

The most overtly narrative work was Nathalie Joachim’s “The Race: 1915,” which used projected images from the artist Jacob Lawrence’s “Migration Series” and texts taken from The Chicago Defender, the Black newspaper that was founded in 1905 and urged Black Americans to move northward in what became the Great Migration. Joachim’s music alternated between busy, cyclical motion and periods of meditative, slow arcs.

The most traditionally “classical” piece during the evening was a technically demanding cello sonata written by Devonté Hynes, whom certain music-loving New Yorkers may recall from his recent stint opening for Harry Styles at Madison Square Garden.

The other fully acoustic work was the third movement from Perkinson’s “Lamentations: Black/Folk Song Suite for Solo Cello,” entitled “Calvary Ostinato.” Perkinson’s music evoked centuries of Black American music, between lavish pizzicato sections which called to mind the connections between the American banjo and West African plucked string instruments and bluesy slides from note to note.

The evening ended with a powerful duet between Woods and George dancing live onstage in Tremblay’s “asinglewordisnotenough 3 [invariant].” It’s a piece that crackles with nervous, coiled energy. Woods often attacked his strings with furious intensity, while George’s dancing combined solid muscularity and sinuous movements. Somehow, all of these emotional currents found a home inside Tremblay’s score.

Difficult Grace

Performed on Saturday at Kaufmann Concert Hall, Manhattan.

[hatake]

.

[augustinewrites]

cw: suggestive content, fem!reader

“come for a stroll with me.”

“i can’t right now,” wriothesley tells you, glaring down at the mess of papers atop his desk.

it was not in your nature to be petulant, but the over dramatic sigh that falls from your lips has him believing otherwise. 

though he wanted nothing more than to abandon the day's duties and join you on the surface for an afternoon stroll, the lord of the fortress of meropide was a very busy man. he had a prison to run.

“fine,” you say, though your exasperated tone indicates that his refusal was anything but.

“you’re the head doctor,” he reminds you, gesturing to the stacks of paper on his desk. “you know how it is.” 

“actually i don’t, because i don’t do all my work at the last minute.” 

“you have sigewinne, who does more than half of it for you.” 

“sigewinne likes paperwork,” you argue, settling yourself atop the corner of his desk. “you could have a whole team of people to help you with these things, but you’re too picky to let them.”

“they don’t do it right,” he huffs, pen scratching a quick signature across the bottom of the topmost report before shuffling it aside. “i know this place better than any accountant whose only concern is balancing a book.”

“fair enough,” you shrug, picking up and thumbing through his reviewed missives with about as much interest as one watching paint dry. he looks down just as a sneaky smile appears on your lips. “i heard it’s quite nice outside.”

“too warm,” he mutters distractedly, too lost in the process of estate management to chit-chat about the weather. 

“perhaps i should shed a few layers before heading out,” you hum thoughtfully, fanning yourself lightly with his papers. 

wriothesley looks up, about to scold you, but the words dry up before they pass the tip of his tongue. 

you certainly hadn’t outfitted yourself as a future duchess might, forgoing a frilly, structured gown for one of his own loose white button downs that’s tucked into closely tailored trousers. 

it’s with great intrigue that he watched your free hand undo the top two buttons of your (his) shirt, revealing the delicate swatch of skin over your neck and teasing him with a peak at your cleavage. 

you catch him staring as you set his papers down, eyes flashing with delight. like a predator that’s successfully cornered its prey. wriothesley - in a last ditch escape attempt - quickly looks away, clearing his throat and staring hard at the report in front of him. 

he could not get distracted today. not with so much work to do. 

but you, oh you. you hop off his desk, walking around it to drape your arms around his shoulders, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “i suppose i’ll see you later then.”

he mumbles a reluctant goodbye but your lips linger, brushing dangerously close to that sweet spot behind his ear. 

do not give in, his brain instructs, even though it’s getting harder and harder to process the words in front of him with every slide of your hands. 

schooling his features into a calm mask, wriothesley draws a deep, steadying breath. it hardly manages to settle him because archons, you were going to be the death of him. he’s always considered himself a steadfast person with an immense focus that’d been built up from a young age. when he set his mind to a task, he was a difficult man to distract.

you and your wiles have always been proof of otherwise.

“just be back before our audience with neuvillette this afternoon.” he tells you, doing his best to ignore the heat rising to his face. 

finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, cor–

“stop it,” he demands when your fingertips glide across his chest, fiddling with the knot of his tie. 

“why?” you ask, voice cloyingly innocent. “am i distracting you, your grace?”

“no.”

you clearly do not believe him in the slightest. 

“care for a wager then? because i bet i can distract you by the end of the day.”

wriothesley knows that betting, wagering, or gambling against a former member of the house of the hearth is never a good idea. it’s a dangerous one.

he leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he attempts to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “what are the stakes?”

_____

you know your boyfriend. it isn’t hard for you to wind him up and get him right where you want. 

which was on top of you. 

or underneath you. it depends on the day.

there were no real intricacies in seducing the mighty and fearsome duke. it wasn’t even that hard to fluster him, because a simple brush of your fingers against his was enough to make his cheeks flush with colour.

you just needed to draw him out a little. you’re on the offense, and you know all the right moves required to force him to engage with you.

in an effort to avoid you and (attempt to) win the bet, wriothesley had locked himself in his office for most of the day. it worked out well for you, because you’d been able to sneak into his quarters holding a shopping bag from chioriya boutique.

your plan is put into motion when you hear the duke stomp up the stairs to get ready for the meeting with neuvillette. 

“get back behind that screen,” he instructs when you poke your head out from behind the divider. he’s even slapped a hand over his eyes, intent on staying focused on the task at hand.

wriothesley huffs when you laugh, turning his back to you as he rummages through the dresser. 

he’s murmuring the little rhyme he uses to knot his tie, so focused on the task that he doesn’t notice the crinkling of the tissue paper as you pull your new…outfit out of its bag.

“hey,” he asks. “are you almost ready?”

“i just need you to lace me up,” you call back, shrugging the shoulders of your gown down a touch before stepping out from behind the divider.

you turn to show him the undone laces of your gown, watching his reflection in the mirror. he’s regaled in the fineries of the duke, having swapped out his shirt for a clean black one and fastened a fine fur coat over his shoulders. you appreciate his appearance greatly, but even more so when he finds your little surprise.

“is this…new?” he asks quietly, gloved fingers brushing undone laces aside to get a better look at what hides underneath your dress. 

it was new. a custom set, in fact. your duke likes you in dark lace and sculpted pieces. 

he inhales sharply when you take his wrist, gently guiding his hand to one of the slits in the side of your skirt. 

wriothesley breathes your name softly when his hand drifts up your dress and settles on your hip, meeting nothing but skin. 

a smug, satisfied grin threatens to break out on your face when you feel his lips brush against your shoulder. you had him on the ropes now. he’s just so easy–

his sweet movements cease suddenly and he pushes you away gently. 

“you almost got me,” he laughs, quickly removing his hands from underneath your dress. he grips the laces, deft fingers making quick work doing it up and pulling it taut and tight to hide the tempting lace of your brassiere. 

“but–”

“go put your underwear back on,” he demands, delivering a firm smack to your rear. 

defeated but not the slightest bit deterred, you reluctantly reach for the abandoned garment as your boyfriend glares at the opposite wall. but losing the battle doesn’t mean losing the war. 

“should i put on the garter belt too?”

_____

downstairs, neuvillette sighs, cursing his better-than-average hearing. 

at least you’d had the sense to leave out some good tea.

[phantomsies]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐠𝐚𝐬 𝐝. 𝐚𝐜𝐞

intimate mornings with the love of your life

wc: 4.1K

modern au ofc (this is a part of the foodie/travel blogger au I’m working on!) very soft smut + lots of fluff, reader and ace are married, humor, kissing, breeding, handjob, cuddlefucking, prone bone, back kissing + praise (calls him daddy a couple times and he calls her pretty girl)

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life hadn’t always been the absolute dream for Ace as he knew it today..rather than waking up surrounded by lilac painted walls and a warm bed, swaddled in crisp white sheets…he awoke to crooks and pains in his joints from sleeping on wooden floors. Instead of chirping birds, crashing waves from the nearby beach and complete serenity, he was greeted with the sounds of yelling and chaos. Parents, who by all accounts loved him, but made his upbringing more difficult than it should have been and tough-as-nails grandparents who didn’t extend the grace typical ones would. His food wasn’t served to him in a professional-esque kitchen or on a silver platter. He got it in scarce rations and on paper plates if lucky…perhaps, it was why he indulged so much now. It was why he walked around with an abundance of joy, kindness and gratitude in everything he did. An attitude that had earned him quite the online following alongside the reviews of all the different cuisines and delicacies that eluded him in his younger years. He may have been the most jovial spirit anyone had ever laid eyes upon but it wasn’t always that way. All those harsh conditions could turn the warmest heart cold and Ace was no exception. Mad at a world that didn’t give him a fair shot to begin with..but that all changed once he met the woman he’d spend the rest of forever alongside. In life and career..his beloved (y/n). Someone who was equally harmed but made the best of it in the end. Someone who shared his passion for food and lust for life…hoping to explore all of the unknown together. One video at a time and share those experiences with the world. Just by being your authentic selves, you have been able to gain a pretty large platform and turn your very humble beginnings into a dream reality. Hence why he rejoiced in the fact that he could wake up every morning, next to his precious, adoring sweetheart and begin his day the correct way..being gracious.

being gracious that you were all his. That this spacious, two story house you shared together felt more like home every single day and that he was truly blessed to call you wife.

“Mmmm..there’s my handsome husband. Good morning, baby..”

it was a phrase he’d never get sick of hearing. Going from a wandering bachelor, never really finding his place in any relationship to someone’s forever person..it was surreal. He’d peer down at the glistening diamond on your ring finger, spread across his chest as you rolled over. One he’d been blessed to spend a decent amount on. More money than he’d ever been able to in his life. Your bare face is an absolute vision of beauty..one he could gaze upon forever and never tire of it and those big brown eyes glaring at him as if he were the most amazing thing in the world. He’d bring a hand up to the back of your neck and shoulders, brushing that silk bonnet that covered your freshly styled braids for an upcoming vacation.

“Good morning…how'd my pretty girl sleep?”

the name sending pings throughout your stomach as you giggled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He loved when you were so affectionate and touchy. You practically wanted to reside in his skin when you got like this but he didn’t mind at all. Placing gentle kisses along his jugular and earlobe, (y/n) confided in him that you’d slept amazing but woke up with him on your mind. Naturally, he wasn’t going to deny your wishes whatsoever. In fact, he’d shift a bit to meet your gaze, hoping to pry more info out of you. “Yeah? And what are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

it was an answer too salacious for such a tender moment. You didn’t want to ruin the mood but it was painfully obvious that you were craving more than just these tiny pecks and teasing.

“Mmmm…I just..missed you. ‘S all..” certainly a strange thought, considering he’d been by your side all night. But alas, it didn’t take your husband long to decipher exactly what you meant. That was one of the many beauties of marriage. It was one of the many admirable qualities he loved about you. How gentle you became in his presence, how shy you were after all these years and how bashful you became when asking for the one thing you never had to beg him for! It was too cute..as for the reason behind your sudden clinginess, he could only attribute it to the fact that you’d had a terrible dream that consisted of him leaving you or someone left a distasteful comment on your videos, saying that he was too good for you. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that Ace would ever be so foolish to come up off of you! He was the happiest he’d ever been in all his twenty something odd years on this earth. And you were the sole reason.

“You missed me?”

“Yes..so bad.”

eventually, you’d begin to become a little bit more coherent and that’s when your hand would shift from your own sides to his torso; gliding down to his pelvis. He’d then feel your palm cup his shaft and stroke it slowly as your lips met his neck. You’d shuffle around in the sheets, attempting to feign your urges by squeezing your thighs together. But it was of no use..he’d already picked up on it. Reading your body language like a book.

“Aw..well don’t, babe. I’m right here.. ‘m not going anywhere. you know that.” with an arm draped across your shoulder, Ace would plant two kisses atop your forehead before shifting entirely. Turning over onto his side, he’d usher you to do the same. The crinkle of the sheets sounding off in the once quiet room…that would soon become filled with sounds of your lovemaking as well.

“You promise?”

“Of course, pretty girl. I love you so damn much. Here, back up against me..there you go. I got you..”

with the two of you lying on your sides and the covers still draped across your nude bodies, (y/n) clenched the sheets and awaited his first move. He’d keep your leg hoisted between his curled fingers.

“Let me hold you, just like this..”

With a few seconds of anticipation, he’d guide that tip along your wet folds..subtle smacking noises could be heard as he teased you. He knew how sensitive you were so he didn’t want to make any sudden movements. Instead, he’d coo into your ear as he prepared to glide in.

“Can I put it in?..are you ready?”

“Of course...please.”

With that, the two of you became one as he nestled that thick cock between your inviting walls. Sinking in almost immediately. The sound of the impact alone made his knees buckle. You always felt so warm, silky and comforting. Writhing around, (y/n) maneuvered until you felt comfortable for him to begin moving. “Fuck..are you okay, sweetheart? Can I start moving?” Naturally, you’d grant him permission with a nod and faint whimper. It was something about those gestures of consent that made the moment all the more special. But he needed to hear you say it..to tell him exactly what you needed.

“Words, baby..talk to me..”

“Y-yes. You can start moving, please..”

Along with those gentle kisses against your neck as he slowly began to thrust.

“You know, I’ll never get tired of waking up and starting my day like this..just me and you. Getting to make love to the most beautiful woman in the world…”

Ace would dote as he continued to buck his hips forward, keeping a firm arm around your upper half and his hand coiling your elevated leg. Meanwhile, those full, swollen balls smacked against your entrance..suddenly, you’d feel one of those hands glide downward and begin massaging your clit. In return, you’d grasp the sheets tightly and brace for the sensation. Crying out, you’d glare up at your husband with those doe eyes he adored so much; your lip quivering and moans growing louder. His large, veiny hands occasionally gripping your breasts..pinching and rubbing those sensitive nipples just to stimulate you more.

“Mmmmph..and it always feels so good. Thank you, daddy..thank you so much.” Your graciousness was as adorable as it was arousing. Something about hearing that name made him want to spill every last drop into your pretty little cunt and let you make him one!

“Shit..keep talking like that and I don’t think we’ll ever get out of this bed, baby.”

“That’s fine. Just keep fucking me..like that.”

You were so overwhelmingly stimulated, he was afraid any other movements would send you over the edge. Even so, your husband continued to feed you deep strokes..all the while, filling your ear and mind with affirmations about how beautiful you were, how special you were to him and how he was so happy you were a part of his life. It wasn’t a luxury he had been afforded prior. All the other women who’d entered his life were gone before he even got the chance to know them well or get to that stage…just temporary flings for a fleeting love that never came to be. He always felt abandoned and lonely…as if no one could ever fill that void in his heart. That was until you came into his life. And he couldn’t dream of letting you go.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you get like this…all needy and shit..but you’re taking me so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

those sweet nothings constantly altering your mind and making you melt within his grasp. You felt as if you could just lose all control and allow yourself to completely submit. As if your only job was to lie there and let him bring you closer to ecstasy. Drool would begin to seep from your lips, along with a smile forming across your face. Just as a flashback came to mind..

“Do you remember the first time we fucked like this?…that night was so much fun…” and it didn’t take long for your husband to garner the memory as well. Chuckling as his pace slowed to a steady rhythm without breaking those incredible strokes. “Oh my gosh, are you kidding? I couldn’t forget. Waking up in the middle of the night in your apartment…all your friends in the next room and we had to stay quiet. You almost failed miserably, by the way.” The two of you began reminiscing on a time when your relationship didn’t quite have the same dynamic as it did now. You were still sharing a condo with your three best friends and he was still living with his two brothers in a less than ideal space. That particular night, you were all out at a club and rather than making the trek home, plastered out of his mind, Ace decided to stay over. Needless to say, when the clock struck around three am and that alcohol hadn’t quite worn off, the both of you awoke to the incessant urge to ravage one another!

however, there was the pressing matter of your roommates sleeping next door and the possibility that you’d wake them. So as a solution and compromise, he’d put you on your side with his hand cupping your mouth as he pounded up into you. He’d grunt and whisper the nastiest things in your ear; only for you to be forced into silence. Clenching his shaft and squeezing down every time he spoke. By the time he placed you onto your tummy, ass sticking into the air..you had lost track of your own orgasms.. “You took ‘fucking me to sleep’ literally. How the hell was I supposed to stay quiet?” To which he could do nothing but softly chuckle. Even of his own admission, he knew he was on an entirely different level then..but those days were far behind you both. No longer were the nights of reckless, alcohol fueled hookups with nothing but lust on your minds..they were instead replaced by passionate love making sessions as a result of being wine drunk and dancing around in your kitchen to R&B. No need to silence yourselves or be inconspicuous…you had a space all your own and you were going to use it as you saw fit. Including moaning and screaming your husband’s name so loudly that you’d wake your slightly distant neighbors.

”But we don’t have to worry about that anymore…I mean, we can fuck each other like animals if we wanted. We can do this whenever we feel like it..”

the statement, as outrageous as it sounded, was true! (Y/N) would burst into a giggle as those words and reality sank in. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one of the many great things about being married and in your own space.” It was something about that sentiment that made him speed up. As if the reality that he was spending an eternity with you made him tick. The same occurred when you called him ‘husband, hubby’ or told him that you can’t wait to have his baby someday. It was something that he never would have imagined to be true. Reaching back, (y/n) ran your fingertips across his face whilst pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you, (y/n)..so much, baby..”

“I love you more, Ace..”

just then, those movements became a bit sporadic and your body began to jolt around, breath catching in the back of your throat..it was beginning to make your head spin and eyes dilate; trailing to the back of your head. “Ah—you’re close, pretty girl. I can feel it. Don’t worry, I am too. I’m about to bust, honestly.” admitting just as you felt that cock twitch and pulsate inside of you. Those walls began to constrict and there was no way you were going to let him pull out. With that coy little smile stretching across your face, you’d instruct him to do exactly that.

“Well you know where I want it…”

“Yeah? Tell me then, sweetheart. Where do you want me to come?”

he could almost sense the desperation in your tone. Especially when you begin to curse or get louder.

“Nut in me..nut in this fucking pussy, please..”

“That’s more like it..”

He knew it was a sign that you were reaching your peak. However, his plans didn’t include either of you stopping. For a split moment, he’d bring that hand back to your throat and squeeze a bit tighter than the first time around. Meanwhile, your tongues clashed once more and engaged in a bout of sloppy, nasty kisses.

The two of you would laugh from delirium setting in and the impending orgasms. That’s when he’d instruct you to release at the same time and once that climax came, neither of you could contain yourselves. Ace would halt altogether and you were trembling as streams of warm juices came spilling down your legs and onto him.

“Oh my God!..I’m coming!..fucking coming—“

“Me too! Oh shit..”

with that, you were stuffed to the brim with your husband’s seed. His entire face went blank and those brown eyes trailed to the back of his skull. “Oh my gosh, yes!” The warm liquid filling the inside of your womb and that fat cock of his still pulsating for seconds after inside of you. He’d hold you close to him as he tried to get himself under control..shaking, breathless and sweating profusely, Ace removed the dark hairs plastered to his forehead before looking down to examine you. Only to be met with that beautiful smile and adorable laughter.

“What’s so funny?” To which you’d respond with the most innocuous yet hilarious answer.

“Oh nothing. You should’ve just seen your face. You looked like you were having an exorcism.” That laughter only becomes heartier as the thought sets in. One thing he had come to learn about his precious (y/n), was that you loved to laugh. Even at his own expense sometimes! Cracking jokes and poking fun at one another was just a part of your love language though. It’s what made the relationship so joyous and healthy. Even so, he had to get his revenge for that one!..

“And who’s fault might that be, woman? You’re the one who was begging me to do it.”

“I don’t recall.”

your sense of humor was certainly something to be admired. Sometimes, Ace didn’t know whether to take you seriously. Just one of the many joys of being in a relationship with you.

“Yeah, sure you don’t. Such a brat.” Scoffing and chuckling to himself as he kept marking your neck with kisses. Meanwhile, his hands had returned to your breasts and continued to grope gently. He’d release soft grunts, almost like rough moans whilst feeling you up.

“But you love it though.”

“Damn right I do..I can’t get enough..”

That much was evident by the way his hands roamed and caressed your body. He obviously hadn’t been fully satisfied, despite pumping you full of his cum just moments ago. He was almost certain to overstimulate himself and be knocked out for another four hours afterwards but it was a valiant sacrifice he was willing to endure just to have you once again. It wasn’t something that alluded you by any means..if anything, you didn’t help matters at all by gently bouncing your ass against his crotch. Even with that cock still nestled inside of you, you could still maneuver around. Which elicited another set of whimpers from your husband. Causing him to even whisper in your ear.

“Yes..fuck. Move that ass on me. Just like that...”

“You’re still so hard..”

it was painfully obvious that he hadn’t quite sated that ravenous appetite for you..and you hadn’t quite had enough. Despite being filled to the brim. Reluctantly, he’d pull out of you and drag a trail of that warm seed along with him. However, it wasn’t the end of your early morning fun…

“Flip over f’r me, I’m not done..”

It was something about that slight aggression in his tone that really aroused you. Hell, it even caused you to twitch as you followed his instructions. Just as you were maneuvering, he’d feed your plump ass cheek a hard smack before gently grasping the back of your neck.

“On your stomach, baby..there we go..”

once you were positioned just as he hoped, Ace would then follow suit and readjust so that he was on his knees and planted behind you. With those hips and asscheeks slightly raised, he’d stretch your arms outright before pinning them to the mattress. That thick cock rested atop your backside, slowly teasing the visible entrance. You were still leaking traces of his nut and something about the sight gave him the incessant urge to fill you with more.

“I swear..you’re so perfect. I don’t know how or what I did to deserve you but…I’m so happy you’re mine..”

those sweet nothings were followed by a soft grunt and a trail of kisses, slowly marking your spine. He’d bend down and place gentle pecks from your shoulders, to the top of your back and eventually reach the center. Each one eliciting a moan from (y/n).

“I know it may seem selfish..hell, a little greedy. But I just can’t get enough of you, pretty girl. I’m so fucking in love with you…I don’t know if I could survive if you weren’t here..” his profane language almost mimicked that of love drunken confessions. However, he was completely sober and meant every bit of what he uttered.

“Aww..you mean that, baby?..”

“Every word, sweetheart..every…single..word.”

Answering you as he slowly glided back into your inviting warmth. That sloppy cunt greeting him with a sloshing sound and pop as he stuffed you full once more. Once he was nestled about halfway, that swollen tip began prodding your insides and stimulating you. Even reaching a hand under to rub that clit again.

“You look so pretty when you’re all fucked out like this..that look on your face, it’s so hot…” doting on you even as he fed you those deep, slightly rough paced strokes. His hips snapped with each movement, sucking his teeth to try and maintain his composure. When he got like this, he was less concerned with making love and more so fucking the shit out of you!…

“I know how much you hate when I pull on that beautiful hair…but you love getting choked..gets you so much wetter, doesn’t it?” Spoken as if he didn’t know each and everyone of your ticks.

“Yes!..keep pounding this pussy, daddy. Faster..”. Begging him to increase his speed as he wrapped a hand around your throat. The band of his silver watch grazes your skin in the process. You were both becoming incredibly vocal and louder. Which meant that those orgasms were making a return for round two. It was only a matter of time before your bodies collapsed but for now, you were going to enjoy every second of this lust filled ride! Even shortly reminiscing on how the two of you woke up in this same manner on your first trip to Bali, just before filming a travel blog for it.

“Yeah? That’s what you want? Want me to fuck you faster, baby?” Rhetorically questioning as he increased his speed and roughened that pace. Even feeding your ass two heavy slaps yet again. He was trying to maintain his composure but just couldn’t quite hold it together! “God, yes! Right there…don’t stop!..”His hips snapped sporadically and before long, he was buried to the hilt inside of your fertile cunt. He knew the possibility of impregnating you was very likely and even so, Ace couldn’t resist the urge to pour every drop of his seed into you. Flat against that mattress, you’d gasp for breath and continue to plead for harder strokes. You were yet again on the brink of a climax and you needed his assistance to get there.

“Reach down and rub your clit, pretty girl..hurry up.” Strands of hair fell slack against his forehead, courtesy of the copious amounts of sweat beaded around your forehead. You’d heed his instruction and curl your hand underneath your belly. Tracing tiny circles around that aching bud, (y/n) wailed and cried out as your husband’s throbbing cock was pulsating inside of you. He was always so keen and aware of your body, including when you were on the brink of collapsing. Leaning down, he’d mumble against your ear; his own voice becoming drowsy and spent from all of this activity.

“..Same time…don’t hold back, okay?” With a heavy nod and shallow breaths, you’d find yourselves mimicking your actions from only moments ago, allowing your juices to splatter the sheets and his cum to paint those greedy walls. Seconds later, you’d both collapse to the mattress and in each other’s embrace with a barrage of kisses. Riding out those climatic highs into the sweet bliss of afterglow..your husband would cusp your cheek in the palm of his hands, just to catch one more glimpse of that beautiful face. Whilst those thick ropes finished pumping into you. Even after all of the lust filled, sensual moments and amazing sex, it was that moment alone and ones like them to remind him that life couldn’t get any better than this.

“Here, let’s stay like this for a little while…let me hold you.” His voice lowered to that of a comforting tone. He’d feel the warmth of your tears on his chest and knew that the overstimulation had taken its toll. “Don’t worry, pretty girl. You did amazing… ‘m so proud of you.” But he’d remain here as long as he needed to. After all, it was his favorite place in the world and where he felt the safest. Life may not have begun with the easiest path and it was a bit difficult sometimes…but every single day, he was committed to growing, becoming a better man so that even when things became hard, he was still softer with you!

[wriothesleybear]

Best friend's Bachelorette Party

~a/n: Inspired by on the most beautiful fanart I've seen on twitter by minoru_uwuarts. Here’s a Christmas present for my fellow Wrio lovers. Probably my last fic to end the year. Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! Enjoy!🥰❤️

~warnings: some plot, smut, male stripping, mentions of blowjob, cunnilingus, jerking off, fingering, squirting, consent, gentle face fucking, ends in some fluff, fem!reader, MDNI!

~summary: Being the maid of honor, you throw your best friend a bachelorette party and order a male stripper. He tells you to meet him in the guest bedroom after the party. You took him up on his offer and it was not disappointing...

~word count: 5.9k

Being the maid of honor was a very busy job. The jobs included helping prepare for the wedding, getting invitation cards ready and sent out in the mail, helping the bride choose her dream wedding dress, and many other jobs. One of them included the bachelorette party. Your best friend said anything you planned was fine for her party because she trusted your tastes. In the past, you remember she mentioned wanting to get a stripper. Being the maid of honor, you wanted to fulfill her one and only bachelorette party of her dreams, so you did as she asked.

You've never ordered a stripper before or even gone to a strip club. It was a bit of an embarrassing new experience but it was for your best friend! While searching online for the best professional strippers who had good reviews and made house calls, you came upon a website called Celestial Temptations. It was a very fancy and elegant website that had a list of many different types of professional male strippers. They showed a picture of each gentleman with a personal description below it. Scrolling through the many types of male strippers was a bit exciting and made it difficult to choose which one to hire because they all looked gorgeous and sexy. You kept in mind what your best friend's taste was in men while deciding. You came across one in particular that caught your eye. His name was ‘The Duke’. He was a buff, handsome man with black and gray hair with part of it looking like animal ear tufts. Scars littered his skin but they added to his beauty. He wore a professional business suit that was open to show his torso and chest, tie loose as he pulled on it in the picture. You rubbed your thighs together, already getting excited just from his picture alone.

His description read: The Duke. "A man of mystery who will do anything to please a woman. "

You were already taken in by the picture of this man but his description just pulled you in more. Clicking on his profile, you get more information about him like his age, height, likes and dislikes, turn-ons and turn-offs, etc. You click on the 'order services' button and put in your information and payment, all the while, your heart is pounding with excitement. You get a confirmation email, telling you that the order went through and The Duke was booked for your best friend's bachelorette party. This was going to be an interesting party..

~

The night of the bachelorette party finally came and you were excited for your best friend to have the best time of her life tonight. Deep down, you were also a little excited about the 'special entertainment'. While the soon-to-be bride and guests were busy opening gifts, the doorbell rang. You figured it was the long-awaited entertainment. "I'll get it!" You hurry to answer the door, making sure that everyone is preoccupied with the bride. You open the front door to see a tall, handsome man that looks exactly like the man from the picture that you ordered for. A charming smile graces his facial features. A smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

"y/n, right?" You lose your train of thought when you hear his deep voice but soon snap out of it.

"Um yes! That's me. The Duke, correct?" He gives you a flirty smile and replies yes. You blush. "Follow me. I'll show you where you can get ready." Opening the door wider, you let him in and close it behind him as he scans the front room of the house. He then turns to you, smiling, "Lead the way." You lead him to a spare bedroom down the hall. As he followed you, he kept checking you out from behind without you knowing.

You open the door to the guest bedroom, letting him enter first. "Here you go, you can prepare in here and we'll do the show in the living room where everyone currently is." He sets down a bag on the bed and already begins to take off his jacket. You're able to see his back muscles flex through his shirt. His deep voice breaks your daze. "No problem. I'll be ready in five." He says as he turns to you, giving you another one of his charming smiles. You quickly turn around and get ready to leave but then he stops you. "Oh, and make sure you get a front room seat. I do a little something special for those who catch my eye." He teasingly says. Instead of turning around and replying, you simply shut the door. Leaning your back against it, you try to calm your beating heart. You could feel the heat in your cheeks and also between your thighs. You're finally able to calm down and gather yourself, pushing those feelings down. He says that to a lot of women probably. It's not that special, you think to yourself.

You head back to the living room to see that everyone has finished watching the bride-to-be open her presents. You gather everyone's attention. "Alright, ladies! We have a special show for everyone, especially for the main lady of the night." Noises of excitement and curiosity fill the room. You turn the bride's chair around so she's facing towards the hallway where the entertainment should enter from. "I remember you asked for a very special entertainment for your bachelorette party. So, I did my duty as maid of honor to fulfill that wish." Your best friend gets all giddy, getting an idea of what this 'special entertainment' could be. “Would it have something to do with that metal pole you installed today?” She points to the stripping pole connected to the floor and ceiling nearby in the room. You smirk, acting oblivious. “I’m not sure. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

You grab a blindfold from your pocket and wrap it around the bride's head, covering her eyes. You dim the lights and turn the stereo on to play some sexy music to get everyone in the mood. Everyone begins to chant and cheer for the 'special entertainment' to come out, the bride especially.

Wrio hears the music play and the women calling for him so he takes that as his cue. He opens the door and walks down the hall towards the living room where the audience is waiting. All the women cheer as soon as he enters the room. His charming, seductive smile added to the sexy aura that surrounded him. "This must be the lucky lady." He walks towards your best friend and kneels before her. You remove the blindfold covering her eyes and once her sight focuses, it lands on the handsome man in front of her. She blushes as he takes her hand in his, leaving a kiss on the back of it. "I'm The Duke. I hear you're getting married soon. I better do my best to make your last night as an unmarried woman the most memorable one ever." Squeals and cheers fill the room once again, letting the man know to start the show. You take a seat nearby, grab a specialty drink, and take a swig of it.

While checking out The Duke, you notice he changed his outfit from earlier. He's now wearing a black suit with a red tie around his neck. His pants fit snuggly to his legs, accentuating his nice ass. Pulling on his suit jacket, he takes it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. Oh god, how can this man make taking off a simple jacket so sexy? Next, he begins to loosen his tie and unbutton his dress shirt. Whistles fill the room when he completely removes his shirt, showing his buff body and muscles. Your eyes scan his bare upper body, admiring his chiseled abs, ripped arms, and the scars that litter his skin. He grabs the blindfold from the floor, wrapping it around his eyes and tying it.

He walks over to the bride, and grabs the bottom of her chair, moving her to be positioned right in front of the stripper pole. “Gotta have front-row seats to the show.” His hips sway to the beat of the music as he grabs onto the metal pole and swings on it. He’s able to effortlessly climb the pole to the top of it, with his back to you as you can admire his ass and back muscles that flex when he grabs the pole. Wrapping his legs securely around it, he leans back until he’s facing the audience upside down. His hands grip the pole between his legs, holding him as he slowly slides down the pole. Screams and cheers fill the room once again. A flirty smirk covers his face from hearing the ladies cheer for him. Calling out to the bride seated in front of him, he tells her to take his blindfold off. Wasting no time, she unties the blindfold, letting it drop to the floor. The sight of his blue eyes gazing intently at her while doing his signature smile would make any woman’s legs turn into jelly. He slowly slides himself down the pole, face right in front of her legs. He uses one hand to grab her leg, positioning it to the side of his head as his hand moves up her leg to her thigh, making the bride blush. He removes his hand before going any further, leaving her wanting more.

He turns his head to where you’re sitting, eyes landing on you. Winking at you, he beckons you over with a finger. You’re hesitant, not wanting to take the attention away from the bride-to-be, but she walks over to you, grabs you by the hand and pulls you over to her seat in front of him. Plopping you down, you make eye contact with The Duke, his gaze sending tingles down your body. He uses both of his hands to slide up your legs, slowly easing up to your thighs. Similar to what he did to the bride but with you, he doesn’t stop himself at a certain point. Hands move further up to the inside of your thighs, almost touching your core. Blushing and slightly embarrassed from knowing people are watching, you try to close your legs but he prevents you from doing it. He chuckles at your actions. Removing his hand, he grabs your hand, pulling it to his abs to feel it. The feel of his soft, chiseled abs does something to you. You get entranced by the feel of them, slowly rubbing your fingers up and down his stomach. He brings your hand to his mouth, leaving a sweet, short kiss on the palm. Suddenly, he pulls you by the hand so your face is near his, eyes widened with surprise. He whispers in your ear, Meet me in the guest bedroom after the show. Your thighs clench together as heat goes down to your core from his mysterious words. He releases his grip on your arm, allowing you to pull away. You’re in a daze from your small interaction with him, but a cheer of “mores” from the guests breaks you out of your trance. You gain your composure and get up from the seat, allowing the bride to sit back down to have her turn again. Walking back to your seat, you’re left wondering what he meant with his words. What would happen if you did meet him in the guest bedroom after the party? The curiosity eats at you, leaving you wanting more. He knows the effect he has on you. That was his plan after all.

~

Once the entertainment was done, the party was officially over and the guests began to leave. You close the door once the last guest leaves. Joining your best friend on the couch, you're exhausted. Your best friend tells you how much she enjoyed the party and thanks you for it while hugging you as her words are slurred. She's wasted. You laugh, laying her down and putting a blanket over her. Once she settles down, she brings something to your attention.

"I think the stripper has the hots for you."

"What?" You pause, surprised by what she said.

"Yeah, I could tell how he looks at you, especially during the special dance he gave you."

"Yeah, okay. I'm sure that's just him acting for his job."

"Nope, I can tell. I'm psychic and I know he has the hots for you. He's probably waiting in the guest bedroom for you right now. You should go in there and see." She says, her words slurring more as she begins to get sleepier. "If you don't go in there and fuck him, you're not my maid of honor anymore."

Rolling your eyes and laughing at her. "Whatever you say. You're drunk. Go to sleep." She begins to snore, signaling that she's passed out. You think about what she said in her drunk rant. You can't help the thoughts of what if she's right. Shaking your head, you ignore the thoughts and head to the guest bedroom where The Duke is waiting. You knock on the door and hear his deep voice saying Come in.

Opening the door, you see him sitting on the bed, legs spread. "I was wondering if you'd take me up on my invitation." He stands up and walks over to you. Your back leans against the door as he hovers over you. He cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing on your bottom lip, feeling the softness of your lips. He thinks about how nice they'd feel against his own. Not wanting to wait any longer, he presses his lips to yours. You feel the sparks as his lips finally touch yours. Hot, passionate kisses that take your breath, making it hard to breathe. His tongue invades your mouth, exploring and intertwining with yours. You feel like you’re suffocating, but it feels so good. His kisses are addicting. His hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "Raise your arms." Raising your arms, he pulls your shirt up over your head.

Once he discards it to the floor, he pulls you back into a kiss. Rough, calloused hands explore your upper half. Starting from your hips, up to your waist, and around to your back to unclasp your bra. It falls to the floor. His large hands cup your breasts, groping and pinching your nipples. You moan into the kiss. With an arm around your waist, he slightly bends down, wrapping his lips around your bud and sucks, as his free hand fondles the other. The tip of his tongue plays with the tip of your bud, hardening it. The feeling of your bud hardening under his tongue makes him moan. Your head falls back as moans leave your lips due to the pleasure. You comb your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your chest. He switches to giving your other breast the same treatment with his tongue, playing with the previous one with his hand.

Once he's done giving your breasts attention, he moves back up and kisses you while his hands move down to your thighs. He enjoys the feel of your soft, squishy thighs. If only they could be wrapped around his head. "Jump". Jumping, he catches you by the back of your thighs as your legs wrap around his waist. Not breaking the kiss, he carries you over to the guest bed, pushing you down onto it. His lips travel down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys. Your legs tighten around his hips, holding him close as you grind against his crotch, looking for some friction. "Someone's eager for my cock." He chuckles and teases.

The smirk leaves his face as your hand cups his cock through his pants, his breath hitching when you rub it. He grabs both of your hands, holding them against the bed next to your head. "Patience. I'll fill your pussy with my cock soon but first, I need a little taste." He litters kisses down your chest to your stomach. Letting go of your hands, he moves to the button on your jeans, unbuttoning it and pulling your pants down your legs. Tossing it to the floor, he spreads your legs and notices a wet spot on your panties. "Already wet for me and I've barely done anything." Fingers move to rub against the wet spot, making you moan. He leans down to lay on his stomach, switching his fingers with his lips. He kisses your pussy through your underwear, the wet spot growing. He experiments with the tip of his tongue, rubbing it against you. You groan from the little friction but it's still not enough. "More please." You quietly beg.

He moves your underwear to the side, enjoying the sight of your bare pussy. "Beautiful." You get embarrassed as he just lays there, admiring your pussy. "Don't just stare." You blush as you try to close your legs but he blocks you from doing that. "Sorry, I can't help myself." He shows his apology by rubbing his fingers between your folds, finally touching your pussy to help relieve the stress from the long wait. You gasp out at the feel of his rough fingers on your most sensitive spot. Rubbing your clit, one finger prods at your entrance, slowly teasing it. You whimper, silently telling him more. He pushes his finger inside you, feeling your tightness. He begins to slowly pump his finger, testing the pace as he rubs your clit. Moans fill his ears as he quickens his pace. You're already close, feeling the warmth in your lower belly. When you're about ready to cum, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you disappointed. "I'd prefer it if you came on my tongue for your first orgasm."

Slipping your underwear off and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, he spreads your legs wide, giving him full access to your core. It's a bit embarrassing but that soon leaves your mind once his mouth latches on your pussy. You moan aloud at the new sensation. His mouth was much more pleasurable than his fingers. His tongue licks your clit, switching between flicking his tongue and sucking. Your head falls back as you intertwine your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. You already begin to feel that pleasurable warmth again in your lower belly when the pace of his tongue quickens. His tongue moves to circle your entrance, before sliding into you. He uses his thumb to rub your clit as his tongue explores your insides. The simultaneous pleasure finally pushes you over the edge as you cum on his tongue. Your sweet flavor decorates his taste buds. He groans from the delicious taste, the vibrations of his moans, and his continuous motions helping you to ride out your high.

You begin to feel overstimulated, wanting a break, but he wants more. "Gimmie more. I know you can." He replaces his tongue with two fingers, pumping them into you at a quick pace as his tongue flicks and laps at your clit. It feels so good but too much at the same time. You're not sure if you want to push his head away or pull him closer to your core. You begin to feel the warmth again, more intense this time. "Come on. Come for me. Come on my face, beautiful." He says against your pussy as he continues to pump his fingers and lick your clit at a fast pace. The warmth finally snaps in your belly. You squirt on his face, your sweet nectar filling his mouth as he tries to devour all of it, not wanting any drop to be wasted. Your beautiful moans fill his ears as he continues, his pace unrelenting. This causes you to quickly come again, tears filling your eyes at the immense pleasure. Something you've never felt before. You want more.

He begins to slow his ministrations, helping you calm down from your three climaxes. Rubbing your thighs and leaving a kiss on your pussy, it causes your thighs to twitch and a whine to leave your lips from the sensitivity. He moves back up to your face, melting his lips against yours, making you taste yourself as his tongue intertwines with yours. "Want to taste my cock now?" You eagerly nod your head, wanting to return the favor. "Good girl." He pecks your lips and gets up to stand at the edge of the bed. "On your knees." You shakily move yourself to your knees on the bed, face right in front of his covered cock. He stays silent, waiting for you to unbutton his pants.

Your hands move over to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping. Pulling his pants down, he steps out of them. He's still dressed in his underwear but you can see the large outline of his cock. You grope him through his underwear, admiring the length of it. "Look who's being the tease now." You look up, eyes meeting his. You notice the dark lust in his eyes, silently begging you to free his cock. You hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down. His cock springs out as his underwear falls to his feet. You gape at the sight of his cock. Large and thick with a vein lining the bottom of it. "Like the view?" His voice breaks you out of your trance. You nod your head. "Good. Now wrap your hand around it." Wrapping your fingers around his thick length, you slowly move your hands into an up-and-down motion. You spit on his cock to make it easier to jerk him off. “Suck my cock.” You lick his tip, swirling your tongue around his head, and insert it into your mouth. Sucking on his tip, you slowly take him inch by inch. His thick girth is overwhelming but feels so exciting. He grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail, moving your hair out of your face, giving him a better view of you sucking his cock. “Good girl. Try to take a bit more. Show me how good you are at sucking cock.” His lustful words turn you on more. You want to please him.

You slide him out of your mouth, a pop sound is heard when you remove your mouth from his tip. Moving his cock up, you place your tongue on the base of his cock, near his balls. Keeping eye contact with him, you lick a long stripe up on the underside of his cock, all the way to the tip, and slip him back into your warm mouth. You go at a medium pace while sucking his cock, continuing the deep eye contact, causing him to twitch in your mouth. “Fuck. You really do know how to suck cock, don’t ya?” You moan in reply, the vibrations around his cock making his breath hitch. “Can I fuck your mouth?” A muffled ‘mhm' is heard as you give him consent. Holding your head in place, he begins to gently thrust into your mouth. You relax your jaw and place your hands on his thighs as you let him use your mouth.

Looking up, the view above you is glorious. He’s looking down at you, watching you intently. When you lick one of his sensitive spots on his cock, he moans. Hearing his moans makes you happy, knowing that you’re able to make this hot man feel immense pleasure. Wanting to hear more of his moans, you use one of your hands to massage his balls as you suck his cock more. Curses leave his mouth as his head falls back with his eyes closed. You’re making him go crazy. He’s never felt this much pleasure before. But it’s not enough, he wants more of you.

He pulls you by your makeshift ponytail, pulling you off of his cock. "Get on your hands and knees for me." Listening to him, you turn around, getting on your knees and hands. He rubs the side of your thighs, up towards your ass, and gropes it. Grabbing his cock and giving it a few pumps, he rubs his cock head between your folds, teasing your clit. You slightly whine, wanting more, you shake your ass. He chuckles. “Patience beautiful. I’ll give you what you want in due time. You have to tell me what you want though.”

“Fuck me, please. Make me cum on your cock.” Embarrassment has long left you, mind too dazed from the lust and want for him to have his cock inside of you. It’s more than a want, it’s a need. “For you, anything.” He prods your entrance with his tip then finally slides his head in. Slowly sliding himself inside your pussy, you flinch a bit by his massive girth. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten laid and your previous boyfriends never had a size like The Duke’s.

Once you’ve relaxed and gotten used to his size, he slides his cock out to the tip and thrusts back into you. He continues this, turning into a steady pace. The view of his cock disappearing inside of you and the sight of your ass bouncing against his pelvis causes his control to falter. Sounds of your moans, the pap pap sound of your ass hitting his pelvis, his grunts, it’s becoming too much for you. His hand wanders over the expanse of your back, slightly pushing down on it, signaling you to arch your back so his cock can reach deeper into you. He’s hitting your soft spot, the shocks of pleasure shooting up your body, making your arms jelly and causing you to fall face-first into the pillow. Your moans are muffled into the pillow when he quickens his pace. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your upper body up against his chest. “I want to hear you. I want to hear the sounds you make when you finally cum on my cock.” He says into your ear. His hand slides down your stomach to your clit, rubbing it while thrusting into you. His head moves down to your neck, sucking and licking another hickey onto your skin.

One of your hands holds onto the arm that’s stimulating your clit while the other goes to his head, fingers interlocking with his hair, pushing his head into your neck. Your nails dig into his arm, but he doesn’t care. It excites him. His free hand grips your jaw, turning your head to face his own, pulling you into a breathtaking kiss. The softness of his kiss compared to his hard, deep thrusts makes your head dizzy and pussy tighten around him. You break the kiss, crying out as you cum on his cock, juices leaking down your thighs. Your legs shake from the exhaustion of being on your knees so much. He’s unrelenting. The pace of his actions does not falter one bit. You already want to cum again, and you don’t mind. You don’t want him to stop, lust taking over your mind, making it hard to think straight.

He’s getting close as well. The tightening of your pussy around his cock with the melody of your moans filling his ears edge him closer and closer. Until he suddenly pulls out. You’re confused and disappointed as you’re denied your next orgasm. You turn your head to look back at him, whining for more. You’re about to ask him why he stopped, but the question is unable to leave your mouth as his hands grab you, flipping you over on your back. He crawls over you, pressing his chest into yours as his weight pushes you into the bed, making you unable to escape his intense gaze. Hands grab your wrists, pinning them to the bed on each side of your head. Sliding himself into you, he doesn’t hesitate and continues his quick pace. He looks into your eyes, intent on watching your facial expressions as you fall over the edge once again. “I want to see your expression when I fill you up.” He whispers against your lips before connecting his own with yours. Your moans are muffled in a passionate kiss as his thrusts get deeper and slower. Every time he thrusts in and out of you, his groin rubs against your clit, adding to the pleasure. He breaks the kiss, giving you the ability to speak. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum again. Don’t stop. Please.” He smirks as he pushes his hips down against yours, moving his hips in a circular motion, sending more pleasure to your soft spots.

You cry out as you release your nectar on his pelvis and cock. You twitch and shake under him as he continues his thrusting, whining from the overstimulation. You feel him twitch inside you the closer he gets to his orgasm. Wrapping your legs around him, you urge him to cum. He loses his self-control and grabs your thighs, pushing them to your chest, and pumps into you quickly. Tears fill your eyes from the sensitivity, conflicted about whether to tell him to slow down or speed up more. He grunts and moans above you. His beautiful, addicting moans. He moves his hand to your clit, rubbing it in circles. When you once again cum on his cock for the nth time, that finally sends him over.

He quickly pulls his cock out of you and moves to hover himself over your belly, straddling you as he vigorously pumps his cock. His head falls back, sensual moans fill the room as his seed spills over your breasts, covering them in his sticky, warm liquid. Once he finishes emptying himself on you, he topples over on the bed, lying next to you as you both try to catch your breaths.

“I thought you were going to cum inside.” You sheepishly say, trying to hide your disappointment. He turns his head to look at you and he notices the slight disappointment on your face, making him chuckle. “I don’t do that on the first meet. But if you really want me to, go on a date with me.” He turns onto his side and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “You gonna pay for me this time?” You tease, smirking. “Of course. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let a pretty lady like you pay.” You chuckle in reply, but a thought nags you in the back of your mind. “Do you say this to all of your clients?”

“Nope. I usually don’t sleep with clients. It’s a rule in my business contract.”

“Oh no, are you going to get in trouble then?” You ask, slight worry in your voice. He only chuckles, leaving you confused. Cupping your cheek, he kisses your lips. The kiss only lasts a few seconds but it portrays his feelings. “I don’t mind breaking the rules if it’s for you. There’s something about you that makes me addicted to you. Plus, the sex was mind-blowing, don’t you think?” You gently slap his chest. “Such a sweet talker.” Drowsiness and exhaustion start to consume you, making your eyes heavy and yawn. He tightens his hold on you, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Once settling down, he notices his own exhaustion due to a very busy night. Both of you soon fall asleep, satisfied.

~

Sun rays peak through the crack in the curtains, shining on your face, causing you to stir and slowly open your eyes. Groaning, you rub your eyes to ease the sting of the sudden blinding sunlight. You move to turn away from the sunlight, but you notice that something is blocking you from doing so. You feel a solid build against your back and a strong, heavy arm wrapped around your hip. It takes you a second to gather your surroundings, the memories of last night a slight blur. You remember some moments from the bachelorette party. Playing games, opening gifts, serving drinks, then the entertainment part of the party. You slowly begin to remember what happened after the party ended. Accepting the invitation from The Duke and meeting him in the guest bedroom, then having your face shoved in the covers as he pounds into you from behind. You blush once you finally remember everything.

You slowly turn your head to look behind you and your questions are answered when you see The Duke is the one lying behind you. You carefully try to remove yourself from under his arm, trying to avoid waking him up. Suddenly, he wraps both of his arms around your waist, hold tightening as he pulls you close to his chest. "Where do you think you're going?" He whispers in his deep morning voice, nuzzling into your neck. “Um-m I need to get ready for my friend’s wedding.”

“There’s no rush. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little bit more rest. Or we could get a little session in before you have to leave.” Littering kisses down your neck, his hand gropes your body, making you excited. “As tempting as that sounds, don’t forget, I’m the maid of honor so I have a lot to do on the day of the wedding.” You move to sit up in the bed, pulling away from him to stop yourself from falling into the trap of being ravaged by the handsome man again.

He grabs your wrist when you try to get up, moving your hand to his lips to leave a kiss on it. “When can I see you again?”

“Well, since you do owe me a date, how about you come to the wedding with me as my date?”

“How could I deny a request from a beautiful lady.” He teases, inching his face close to yours. When he goes to kiss you, you stop him by putting a finger over his lips. “Best we get ready then.”

“Not even a small kiss, especially after how close we are already.” Smiling, you move your face close to his, lips slightly grazing each other. Just as he thinks you’re about to kiss him, you pull back. “Later. After you get ready.” Disappointment is shown on his face this time, making you giggle. Getting up, you start heading towards the guest bedroom bathroom. You turn back to look at him. “Come on, let’s shower.” He throws the blanket off of his bare body, getting up to follow you. You can already see his cock is hard again, causing heat to shoot down to your core. While lost in your thoughts, he picks you up, getting you out of your daze. “Come on. Didn’t you say you have a wedding to get ready for, maid of honor? You can admire my cock in the shower while getting ready.” He says, his signature flirty smile graces his face. Geez, he was going to be the death of you.

[auggieblogs]

ugh, math!

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by math exam anxiety, you were on the verge of despair. Max's comforting presence and soothing words were your saving grace.

Author's note: Oh my god, I absolutely love this prompt. Thank you so much, the anon who requested this. I really hope you enjoy this!

P.S.- I am not technically a woman in STEM so I don't know the struggles, but I have 12th grade math, and it is downright depressing for me. Again, I might have projected a little too much. Apologies in advance.

The weight of the upcoming math final pressed heavily on your shoulders, making your chest tight with anxiety. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the complex numbers and equations in your textbook. You deeply regretted taking this class, and an overwhelming sense of incompetence washed over you. You were about to give in to despair, convinced that you simply weren't smart enough for this. The more you tried to grasp the concepts, the more they seemed to slip through your fingers like sand.

Just when you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, the door opened, and Max walked into the room. His perceptive eyes immediately caught the distress etched on your face, and worry flashed across his features. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Max asked softly, crouching down in front of you.

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears, and it all became too much to bear. You broke down in front of him, your sobs escaping uncontrollably, your head buried in your trembling hands.

Max hated seeing you like this. He immediately wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, and kissing your forehead gently as he whispered soothing words. His fingers ran through your hair in slow, calming strokes, offering comfort and reassurance.

You hiccupped between sobs, words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't do this, Max. It's so difficult, and I feel like giving up. I'm not smart enough for this, I just can't."

Max held you even closer, his voice unwavering and reassuring. "Listen, bub, you are incredibly smart, and you're not a quitter. I know you can do this."

His words gave you a glimmer of encouragement. Sniffling and wiping away your tears, you took a deep breath and returned to your study materials. Max remained by your side, not entirely understanding the complex math, but his presence was a source of comfort.

As you worked through the complex equations, Max fetched your favourite chocolate milk and prepared your go-to comfort sandwich. He knew that a touch of familiar comfort would help you feel better. Between study sessions, he quizzed you on formulas and cheered you on with a smile and encouraging words.

Hours upon hours passed in intense studying, but Max's belief in you never wavered. He could see your fatigue setting in as the night wore on. Gently, he suggested, "You've been working so hard, love. Maybe it's time to get some rest."

Reluctantly, you agreed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling upon you. Max helped you tidy up your study materials and led you to the bedroom. He tucked you into bed, his fingers continuing to run soothingly through your hair.

"Try to relax," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "You've got this"

After a night of restful sleep, you woke up early, refreshed and determined. Max's encouraging words from the previous night echoed in your mind, reminding you of your own capabilities. With newfound confidence, you revisited your formulas and reviewed the key concepts, ensuring you were as prepared as possible.

As you entered the exam room, your heart still raced with anticipation, but there was a newfound sense of self-assuredness within you. The questions on the paper no longer seemed insurmountable; you tackled them with determination and clarity.

Hours passed by in a blur of focused effort, and when you finally submitted your exam, you felt a sense of accomplishment wash over you. The exam went remarkably well, and you couldn't help but smile as you left the room.

Outside, Max was waiting for you, a proud and supportive grin on his face. His mere presence brought an extra layer of warmth to your already joyful heart. He enveloped you in a hug.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓆝⋆｡˚

The day the results were finally revealed was a day of both excitement and trepidation. Your heart raced as you logged into the exam portal, hoping beyond hope for a passing grade. As the page loaded, your eyes widened in disbelief, and a rush of pure elation surged through you – you hadn't just passed; you had aced the exam!

Unable to contain your excitement, you called Max immediately. His voice was filled with pride and joy as he exclaimed, "I knew you could do it, baby! I'm so incredibly proud of you!"

He couldn't wait to celebrate this incredible achievement with you. He suggested a celebratory dinner or date night. However, you were still feeling the exhaustion from your intense studying and the emotions of the past few days. You wanted nothing more than to stay in and unwind in the comfort of your own space.

Max decided to make the evening just as special at home. He ordered your favourite takeout, ensuring it was exactly what you were craving. He also brought home an assortment of your favourite ice cream flavours, knowing that dessert would be the perfect indulgence for this celebratory occasion.

As evening descended, you both snuggled on the couch, surrounded by pillows and blankets. The collection of your favourite movie, "The Princess Diaries," is played on the screen. Max's arm wrapped securely around you as he pulled you close, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. Laughter filled the air as you indulged in your ice cream, not caring about what was going on in the film but rather the ridiculous jokes Max was currently making.

With each passing minute, the exhaustion from the weeks of preparation began to catch up with you. Max noticed your eyelids growing heavy, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, content and peaceful in slumber. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face and took a picture, capturing the moment .

maxverstappen1 posted on their story

[herejusttosufferalong]

Ehhh totally understand if you don't post this because it's depressing af. I'm choosing violence today. I was awash with lovey dovey feelings for our couple after re-watching L&N interviews, re-watching B3, re-watching BTS footage. I was full to the brim with LOVE. These guys had me in a choke-hold. Actually had me reviewing and reflecting on my life and relationships, adding so much joy and self-acceptance, reflecting on my self-worth, improving my world view. Allowing me to breathe in deeply, and expand myself in ways I didn't expect it to.

BUT yesterday was a mess. For so many reasons, not just because of L&N-related content. There were some bad vibes circulating. Then I made a really poor life decision last night. I decided to do some stalking of third parties, which I don't normally do. And of course, it had to be the night where said parties were posting and I saw all things unfolding in real time. My predictions were coming true in real time. It was like the granting of a wish in reverse. And look, I'm not naive to think that these things aren't happening, but when you see it unfold in front of you, it just hits differently. These people are so. fkn. toxic. It drains the life from me. The same occurred this morning when I awoke to see a timeline of HBS. I knew about it, but seeing it, with receipts, fkn disgusted me to my core. It was a visceral reaction. All of a sudden, what looked cute and puppy dog became unsafe and ugly. My empathy dissolved. The thing that gave me the most discomfort was the possible connection to the young dancer who was in B3. It made me think such awful things. (the worst being, is he just a fuck boy who was starved during tour?).

But why, why does it have such an effect? I don't interact with these people, no real relationship. So why? I think because we have been sold a certain narrative, through B3 and the press tour, that being authentic, having depth, focusing on 'the real bones' of people is paramount. Beyond the aesthetic. 'The truth will set you free' kind of thinking, right? And here we have the literal antithesis to that. People who promote and value aesthetic over substance. People who are egocentric and appear to have a very limited worldview. People you expect more from given they sold that 'depth narrative' looking you in the eye. People who are old enough to know better. People who choose to surround themselves with younger folk so that personal growth is disallowed. People who care more about their shallow life fulfillment, their hedonistic desires, than the feelings of others whom they purport to love and care about. People who hide behind ignorance, as if that negates them from consequence. The stereotype celebrity. It's truly deflating. I expected so much more.

And my original thinking of 'oh it's ok, he needs to grow and learn from his mistakes, he needs to find himself...", well, I'm finding it more and more difficult to believe. Because why give him grace? Why is he deserving of grace? Because he acted real well? What does he add to society? What do these fked up people add to this already fked up world? You've got N literally changing a whole landscape, waving her wand and creating light in darkness, urging us to think deeply while laughing at the same time. And no, we don't all possess that kind of magic, but hell, shouldn't we all be striving to be authentic, kind, thoughtful people? Shouldn't we try to promote these things if we believe in them?

Look, in this life, people are always showing you who they really are, telling you exactly what they value, what fills them up, and it's up to us to really look and listen. I'm disappointed in myself for not properly seeing what was in front of me all this time... You can't change those who do not want to be changed. My respect and my fucks given need to be earned, and honestly, we need to reflect on our own self-respect if we are willing to fawn over or idolise someone undeserving. As always, I have hope for people, but I'm no longer holding my breath.

Please, give me that Xanax and wake me up when September ends.

#fkeverything #ohthereyouareteenangst

.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part V)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.4k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: some misogyny and shit (you know who), psychiatry stuff, canon gore, blood, heads exploding, and violence?.

Notes: so I'm sorry for any mistakes during the psychyatric process, I go to therapy and take medication myself so that's all I know plus google research. And be aware of the gore descriptions, I tried to do my best I guess lol. Thanks for reading as always!

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part V: Blow Your Mind

With a deep breath, you reviewed the symptoms Soldier Boy barely 'gave' during your session. The list was kind of long on the pages and it read:

Always being on guard for any danger, self-destructive behavior, irritability, angry outbursts, panic attacks, feeling emotionally numb, not trusting anyone, not feeling safe, hypervigilance, intrusive thoughts, fatigue, muscle tension, headaches, back pain...

There was a weird silence surrounding both of you, mostly because of his mood and his change in demeanor from a somewhat friendly asshole to an irritated, unbearable jerk. Once you had started with the uncomfortably stupid questions, he felt threatened. Soldier Boy wasn't actually open to talk about his past and the traumatic experiences he had, and that meant it was difficult to get to know how his body and mind were reacting to all the stress and madness he went through in decades, adding those weeks after Billy Butcher had released him from his nightmare.

He was opposed to speaking directly about how he was feeling, but you knew better that Ben speaking out on his symptoms was not going to happen. So you had to ask each one of them and review some his most harsh experiences directly, in order to receive monotonous responses, limited to: 'yes', 'no', 'I don't know,' and finally 'what the fuck is that?' You took them all as an absolute yes.

He was being defensive and you knew better than to miss anything after he almost burned the whole damn building. And with the small but confident experience you had with psychiatry, you concluded that he needed medication and therapy. As soon as fucking possible.

"Yeah, you have PTSD," you said after a moment and your eyes found his unreadable gaze.

He raised his eyebrows with false surprise. He already heard that shit from Hughie before. "And where's the fucking drugs?"

"For that to happen, you have to stop the weed first."

"I've survived bricks of coke mixed with shit you probably don't know about and you want to take the only thing that's keeping me sane? Fan-fucking-tastic!" he fumed, but you didn't flinch. Not a bit.

"Look, my goal is keeping you safe and making you sane because you definitely are not. Not right now. And since I took you out, you'll follow my process, so stop whining."

He chuckled softly with a bitter grimace on his lips as he shook his head softly. "No, that's not gonna happen."

"I don't care if you agree with that, it's settled," you continued, a triumphant smile plastered on your face.

It was true, you didn't give a single shit. He had to be clean and quit any type of drugs to start the medication but most importantly, to use his blood. Eventually. You were more than aware that he wouldn't die easily, that was proved. And it was just a matter of time to get him to your lab to take samples of his blood and run the necessary research on them while you and your team still continued the studies with the Anti-V prototype. You were only hoping that day would arrive soon enough. Two months sober, that was all you needed from him. And the best part? Soldier Boy didn't have to really know the whole details.

Ben, on the other hand, clenched his jaw so tight and closed his eyes for a moment after hearing your statement. You really were a fucking bitch, letting him fall into the abyss of misery and torture that was his own wrecked mind. He considered your intentions internally, once again for the millionth time. You showed up there all dressed up, playing a rich doctor when in reality you were just a fucking slutty brat, just to tell him he had to stop his usual pot, which you also brought happily when he asked you to. And now, you were taking away the only thing that stopped him from ripping your head off. What a great move.

"That's not smart," he insisted.

"Why not? I have you under my own terms."

Ben tilted his head, studying you carefully. "You can't stop me, doll. None of you can. I'm only here because I find it suitable instead of storming out and catching unnecessary attention."

Ben saw you swallow down, he immediately knew it was because you were angry, not scared. You never really seemed scared of him. And you tried to restrain yourself from slapping him right away. "Are you blackmailing me again, Soldier Boy?"

"Is just a warning," he said, nonchalantly. "Wouldn't want to harm such a pretty thing like you, now wouldn't we."

"Oh well, just a reminder I can also turn on the damn gas if needed," you snapped. The arrogant smirk on his lips fell off and it was your turn to smile back. "We all have hidden cards, right?"

Such an arrogant bitch, he thought.

"So, what's your plan?" you switched the subject to avoid going further into what was troubling him.

"What do you mean?"

"Homelander. You want him dead, don't you? You must be getting ready to fight again..."

His body seemed tense once you pushed him to talk, looking away from you to calm a bit. "Isn't that what all of you want?"

"Any sane person would love that, trust me."

Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes. "Well, I can do it. If I wasn't here... You've seen what he's capable of. Jesus, I've seen it," he bitterly chuckled. "And the kid? He's a fucking menace."

"You've been watching the news, I take that—"

"The fuck I do! Wasn't gonna wait for you to keep me up to date of what the fuck is going on!" Ben shouted, his loud voice roaring in your ears despite the distance.

"I don't want you to stress out more than you do," you said, vacillating. "A lot of things take time, such as you adapting to the twenty-first century."

"I'd love to know when that'll happen," Ben insisted. "Or else, I might just break out."

With a tentative smile, you started to write down the report. "I'm so glad you're talking more during our sessions."

You barely said goodbye to Soldier Boy once you finished your daily session. Your head was aching as you walked down the aisle, barely leaving the empty wing of the building behind. Certainly he was hard to handle and was behaving defensively. Before you left he began asking, or better said, bossing you to get him whatever the kid Hughie told him he needed to learn how to use. Shit like the internet and GPS, he said. You told him he was not ready for it yet.

But you'd give him a golden star for trying and insisting so badly, even if he was against eighty percent of your methods. He was up to something, there was no question for that. He was a soldier, more or less like his given supe name. People like him always had a plan, and underneath his facade, there were more plans backed up with words of honor that you had to track sooner or later.

As you made your way to your office, greeting your lab employees and guards, a disturbing sensation grew up inside. Before crossing the doorframe you subtly looked around, focusing for some reason in the security camera, more time than you'd like to admit. You turned again to finally get inside, facing the entry of your office when hurried steps and a voice stopped you from doing so.

"Doctor!"

Once again you turned on your heels to see your assistant, tablet in hand. Those had to be the results.

"Hey," you began. "You have everything?"

Bianca nodded with a straight face and handed you the tablet. You noticed her tight grip and her somehow trembling fingers when you took the device from her hands. You eyed her a little, she remained with her hands intertwined in front of her, her attention seemed lost. With caution, you continued to check the file.

"Is the patient alright?" you asked, reading the profile of the supe who had the not so good luck of being tested previously.

Solaris was his supe name. And he had the ability to manipulate light and matter with his mind. He had taken part in the program for a month now and this was his first test. As always, each supe you had into the program was low-profile. You were thankful of your team keeping these supes under their gaze to offer them some sort of solution, even after all the deaths you tracked from time to time when a test of the Anti-V was run. More than a solution for them, it was a partial contribution to find it.

You quickly scanned the updated file that Bianca completed for you. He was doing better than projected, his powers were still gone with a forecast of probably coming back within a couple of hours. A deep breath left your lips. Now that was an improvement. It was the first time anything like that happened on any tests. The supe survived, he was weak but the powers were off for a bit. It was a small step closer to your goal. Just a little bit more maybe and it could be done, finally...

"He's resting right now," Bianca interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes were back on her face.

"This is great news, thank you. I trust he's doing okay."

She nodded. "He is."

"Great, I guess I'll see him in a couple of hours," you said about entering your office.

"Wait!" Bianca suddenly closed the little space between both of you. She breathed heavily before stuttering words out. "I, I have- I'm sorry..."

"Are you okay?" you inquired, knowing her behavior was unusual. She swallowed down, turning her gaze away, her hands shaking. Was she sick? "Bianca, what's wrong?"

You tried to reach her cheek with your hand, but she stepped back abruptly, looking at you like if you were a ghost with her eyes red and wet, and a fine layer of sweat adorning her skin.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

You walked towards her, worried about what was going on but every step you took, she also gave it back.

"Bianca, what's happening?"

Her back bumped the wall of your office, and finally, she started to cry. "I'm sorry. You have to go, please..."

Your heart started pounding heavily on your chest. "What—"

"Go now! Please... Please don't hurt me..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bianca," you whispered, trying to comfort her.

But she continued crying and mumbled incoherent words with eyes shut, while hot tears streamed down her face. She choked on her sobs as she pleaded for her life. But you didn't understand why. You tried to soothe her, reaching her shoulder with your free hand.

And when you placed your palm on her, everything became red. It all happened in seconds. Ropes of warm blood covered your face in an instant. A loud gasp fell from your throat. You felt every drop mixed with brains on the skin of your face, on your neck, and sliding down the skin under your blouse. It was shocking and equally disgusting. And your eyes remained shut, not brave enough to move or see the horrid picture in front of you.

Your palm was still on her shoulder when the remains of her body fell to the ground with a thud. Your trembling hand wiped some blood from your face to open your eyes anew. The wall was painted with her, as much as you were, and it left a trail of blood from where her corpse slid to the floor. Her head long fucking gone.

"Shit."

Shit. Fucking shit. Was it him? It had to be him. There was no reason to doubt it. It was him. And he complied with his promise. Had Homelander been controlling Bianca? Was she the only one? No. There had to be something more. Homelander wasn't easy and he wasn't merciful with anyone. You had to stop him and get Soldier Boy out of the building. Now.

You tried to control yourself as best as you could, walking away to reach anyone, crossing a corner on the hallway, where a guard was casually passing by.

He stopped on his tracks at your sight, covered in blood and meat. "Doctor?"

"I need your help," you whispered.

He nodded quickly and you began explaining with a low, shaky voice.

"I don't know what happened, my assistant was right there with me when— Fuck!"

You walked some inches away when his head exploded, just like Bianca's did. Luckily, or not, this time was inside his helmet. All the red brains and blood were catched by it. Still, you wanted to throw up right fucking there. The remains of his body fell to the floor with a loud sound.

With a deep breath you continued your way, finding guards, lab assistants and agents. If they were alive, their heads popped into your sight. And if it was your somehow lucky moment of the day, you just found their headless corpses lying on the ground, creating a pool of blood you tried to avoid.

The only thing on your mind was taking Ben out of the building. The alarm had been turned on and the annoying sound of it was driving you crazy. Your head ached more than ever as you made your way to Soldier Boy for the second fucking time during the day.

Since there was no time to open the heavy door properly, you used a force field around the metal, moving the door until it slipped enough to let you in. You found him standing in the middle of the room. Eyes dark and alert, with fists and frame ready to fight. He wrinkled his nose once you entered the place.

"What the fuck's going on?" Ben growled, observing your blood covered face.

"We need to go, now. Take your clothes off."

He blinked, taken aback. Before he answered you continued with an explanation.

"I'll turn you invisible, but can't turn your clothes," you ordered, looking in the closet for a sports bag you knew was inside and picking a couple of shirts, pants and boxers as quickly as time allowed you to. Once finished, you turned to Ben again.

"Mind to fucking clarify?" he insisted. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Look, I'll tell you everything once we're out," you turned one of your hands invisible for him to see.

Ben snorted with laughter. How ironic, he thought.

"No fucking way."

"Strip. We're leaving."

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #6 – Exordia by Seth Dickinson

This is a book I have been looking forward to for quite literally years, from someone who is easily one of my favourite working authors. I also read the short story the book was expanded out from before I even knew it was going to be a book, and so went in spoiled on the broad strokes of what turned out to be the climax of the whole thing. All to say my opinion on this is unlikely to match that of the typical reader, I guess.

Anyway, Exordia is a glorious spectacular mess that has no right to cohere anywhere near as well as it does. It’s target audience is small, but I’m certainly somewhere in it. Please ignore all the marketing it’s so bad you have to wonder if someone at Tor just has it out for the author.

Exordia is a, well, a profoundly difficult book to give any sort of plot summary for. The first act involves Anna, a 30-something survivor of the Anfal Genocide now living a rather unimpressive life in New York City, until one day in the early 2010s she sees an alien eating the turtles in Central Park. Then there’s a cat-and-mouse hunt between terrifying alien snake-centaurs for the future of free will in the galaxy, and the plot jumping to kurdistan, and six more POV characters from as many different nations, and nuclear weapons, and oh so many people dying messily. The first act is an oddly domestic and endearing piece of table setting, the second is (to borrow the idiom of the book’s own marketing) Tom Clancy meets Jeff Vandermeer or Roadside Picnic, and the third is basically impossible to describe without a multipage synopsis, but mostly concerned with ethical dilemmas and moral injuries. It’s to the book’s credit that it never bats an eye at shifting focus and scale, but it does make coming to grips with it difficult.

This is, as they say, a thematically dense book, but it’s especially interested in the fallout of imperialism. The Obama-era ‘don’t do stupid shit’ precise and sterile form of it in particular – the book’s a period piece for a reason, after all. The ethics of complicity – of being offered the choice of murdering and betraying those around you or having an alien power with vastly superior destructive powers inflict an order of magnitude more misery to you, them, and everyone in the same general vicinity to punish you for the inconvenience – is one that gets a lot of wordcount. It is not an accident that the man most willing and able to collaborate with the overwhelming powerful alien empire in hopes of bargaining some future for humanity is the National Security Council ghoul who came out of organizing surveillance information for the drone wars. It’s also not a coincidence that the main (if only by a hair) protagonist is someone with a lot of bitter memories over how the US encouraged Iraq’s kurdish population to rebel in the ‘90s and then just washed their hands and let them be massacred (the book couldn’t actually ship with a historical primer on modern kurdish history, so it’s woven into the story in chunks with varying amount of grace. But it is in fact pretty thematically key here).

Speaking of complicity, the book’s other overriding preoccupation in (in the broadest sense) Trolley Problems. Is it better to directly kill a small number of people or, through your inaction, allow a larger number to die? Does it matter is the small number is your countrymen and the larger foreigners, or vice versa? What about humans and aliens? Does it matter whether the choice is submitting to subjugation or killing innocents as a means to resist it? What about letting people around you die to learn the fundamental truth of the cosmos? Does the calculus change when you learn that immortal souls (and hell) are real? This is the bone the story is really built around chewing on.

All that probably makes the text seem incredibly didactic, or at least like a philosophical dialogue disguised as a novel. Which really isn’t the case! The book definitely has opinions, but none of the characters are clear author-avatars, and all perspectives are given enough time and weight to come across as seriously considered and not just as cardboard cutouts to jeer at. Okay, with the exception of one of the two aliens who you get the very strong sense is hamming it up as a cartoon villain just for the of it (he spends much of the book speaking entirely in all caps). There definitely are a couple points where it feels like the books turning and lecturing directly at the reader, but they’re both few and fairly short.

The characters themselves are interesting. They’re all very flawed, but more than that they’re all very...embodied, I guess? Distracted with how hot someone is, concerned with what they ate that morning or the smell of something disgusting, still not over an ex from years ago. Several of them are also sincerely religious in a way that’s very true to life to actual people but you rarely see in books. The result is that basically comes as being far more like actual humans than I’m at all used to in most fiction (of course, a lot of those very human qualities get annoying or eye-roll inducing fairly quickly. But hey, that’s life). Though that’s all mostly the case at the start of the book – the fact that the main cast are slowly turning into caricatures of themselves as they’re exposed to the alien soul manipulation technology is actually a major plot point, which I’m like fifty/fifty on being commentary on what happens to the image and legacy of people as they’re caught up in grand narratives versus just being extended setup for a joke about male leads in technothrillers being fanfic shipbait.

Part of the characters seeming very human is that some (though by no means all) of the POVs are just incredibly funny, in that objectively fucked up and tasteless way that people get when coping with overwhelming shock or trauma. It’s specifically because the jokes are so in-your-face awful that they fit, I think? It manages to avoid the usual bathetic trap a lot of works mixing in humour with drama fall into, anyway.

Speaking of alien soul manipulation technology – okay, you know how above I said that the points where the book directly lectured the reader were few and far between. This is true for lectures about politics or morality. All the freed up space in this 530 page tome is instead used for technobabble about theoretical math. Also cellular biology, cryptography, entropics, the organization of the American security state, how black holes work, and a few dozen other things. This book was edited for accuracy by either a doctoral student from every physical science and an award winning mathematician, or else just by one spectacularly confident bullshitter with several hundred hours on wikipedia. Probably both, really. I did very much enjoy this book, but that is absolutely predicated on the fact that when I knew when to let my eyes glaze over and start skimming past the proper nouns.

The book has a fairly complete narrative arc in its own right, but the ending also screams out for a sequel, and quite a lot of the weight and meaning of the book’s climax does depend on followthrough and resolution in some future sequel. Problematically, the end of the book also includes a massive increase in scale, and any sequel would require a whole new setting and most of a new cast of characters, so I’m mildly worried how long it will be before we get it (if ever).

The book is also just very...I’m not sure flabby is the right word, but it is doing many many different things, and I found some of them far more interesting than others. I’m not sure whether Dickinson just isn’t great at extended action scenes or if I am just universally bored by drawn out Tom Clancy fantasies, but either way there were several dozen pages too many of them. The extended cultural digressions about the upbringing and backstories of each of the seven POVs were meanwhile very interesting! (Mostly, I got bored of the whole Erik-Clayton-Rosamaria love triangle Madonna complex thing about a tenth of the way into the book but it just kept going.) It did however leave the book very full of extended tangents and digressions, even beyond what the technobabble did. Anna herself, ostensibly the main protagonist, is both utterly thematically loadbearing but very often feels entirely vestigial to the actual, like, plot, brought along for the ride because she’s an alien terrorist’s favourite of our whole species of incest-monkeys. The end result is, if not necessarily unfocused, then at least incredibly messy, flitting back and forth across a dozen topics that on occasion mostly just seem unified by having caught the author’s interest as they wrote.

It’s interesting to compare the book to Anna Saves It All, the short story it was based on – quite a lot changed! But that’s beyond the scope of this already overlong review. So I guess I’ll just say make sure to read the book first, if you’re going to.

[downbad4yoongi]

Namjoon x reader

First Responder AU

Word count: 7156

Friends to lovers

Warnings: mature, smut 🔞(choking, vaginal sex, blowjob, fingering, edging), fluff

Summary: Namjoon's clumsiness proves to be your saving grace.

Thank you, @colormepurplex2 for the banner and the cheerleading.

The blue curtain partitioning off this emergency room bay from the others pulls back, the metal hooks jangling against each other as you lift the tablet in your hand to greet the newest patient to come into the ER. With a few swipes, you access the patient information causing you to stop short and snap your head up.

“Really, Namjoon! Again?” You look down at his lounging form, dressed in black joggers and a cream shirt, on the hospital bed cradling a heavily bandaged hand to his chest. At least he has the decency to look ashamed. You rest back on your hip, the tablet braced against your waist, “You couldn’t have made it five more days before ending up here again?”

Before he can respond, a fellow nurse walks up and silently holds their hand out. With an eyeroll and sigh, you reach into the pocket on the front of your scrub top and pull out three neatly folded bills and slap them into their hand. They smirk at the two of you before spinning with a loud laugh and heading back to the nurses’ station.

The chastised look on Namjoon’s face has morphed into a small frown, “What was that about?”

“That was about you not being able to go another week before ending up in my ER again.” You draw the curtain closed and move to his side, looking down at the tablet to review the information provided by EMS. You blink a few times at the screen before lifting your head to peer at him, “Nearly sliced your thumb off… how?”

You’ve known Namjoon two-thirds of your life seeing as he is your older brother’s closest friend. Ever since they were thrown together for a science project in middle school, they have been thick as thieves. In all that time, you don’t think you have ever seen Namjoon turn as red as he is turning right now.

Eyes cast downward and mumbles, “I was tryi-”

“Speak up for the class. I can’t hear you.”

With a roll of his eyes, his head flops back on the pillow, “I was trying to cook dinner, and turns squash is more difficult than I thought to cut through.”

Your lips purse, cheeks inflating in an effort not to laugh. The urge is a terrible pressure building in your chest; you turn, giving him your back, hand smacking across your mouth to muffle the laughs that do manage to escape. Tears prick your eyes in your effort to exercise restraint. Several beats pass with you taking in deep lungfuls of air before you spin back around to face him. “So, terribly sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”

“Quite. Don’t think I won’t tell Teddy about how poorly his sister treated me when I was in need.”

“Whatever. It’s not like he’d expect anything else.” You set the tablet down on the rolling tray and wrap your fingers around his right forearm and pull it towards you to get a better look at the hastily done bandage wrap. You can already see that blood has started to seep through the final layers of the gauze. “I’ll be right back. I need to gather the necessary supplies to clean the area before the doctor comes to stitch you up. If you’re lucky, you won’t need surgery.”

You walk out of his medical bay, leaving his curtain open, and head toward the locked supply cabinet. Using the key on your lanyard, you open the doors and pull the needed items out before relocking it, and making a stop by the nurse's station to ask them to page the on-call doctor. Leaning against the desk, you giggle at a joke your coworker makes as she reaches for the phone to page the doctor. Before she can complete the action though, you feel the body heat of someone next to you, standing way too close to be appropriate. Your shoulders stiffen as the newcomer leans on the desk next to you, his left hand moving to lightly cup your waist. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

Straightening abruptly you step away, jaw tight as your eyes fill with anxiety. “You would have had to be here to understand. I’m going to finish prepping the patient, and then he’ll be ready for you.” You turn abruptly and make your way back to Namjoon. Your breath leaves you shakily as the items in your arms clatter onto the metal tray.

“What was that?” he asks, his chin tilting to gesture toward the desk, concern laced in his voice.

Shaking your head sharply, “Nothing.” You slip your small hands into the nitrile gloves as you angle to face him, “Now, let’s get you prepped.”

His frown deepens, but he holds out the injured hand out to you. Bracing his arm with one hand, you slowly start to unwind the gauze wrapping his injury. After a few minutes, light is finally cast upon the damage. The note about severing his thumb was a little extreme, but was a close description. You hold his hand closer to you, looking at it from all angles; a few more centimeters, Namjoon would be getting scheduled for surgery right now and you tell him as much.

“Stop being ridiculous,” he scoffs.

“I’m not being ridiculous, Joon. A few more centimeters and you would have severe nerve and muscle damage that could only be repaired by surgery and a lot of occupational therapy. So next time, buy the pre-cut squash, ‘kay?”

Your eyes flick up and catch his wide eyes, his face a bit ashen as he takes your words to heart and nods. 

The corner of your mouth turns upward as you start cleaning the wound and treating it with a numbing agent in preparation of the doctor. Light chatter is traded between you both as you work. The banter comes to an abrupt stop as you feel a heavy palm against your back.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon that your shoulders tighten and jaw perceptibly clenches as you are joined by the ER doctor on call. You avoid looking at Namjoon as the doctor introduces himself to Namjoon.

“Hello, um, Namjoon Kim. I’ll be the doctor attending to you this evening. I’m Dr. Brogan Rothport. Looks like you are here because of a severe laceration?”

You can feel Namjoon’s eyes flick between you and the doctor, who’s hand is still resting on your back. You hurry through the remaining cleansing and slide out of the way as soon as you can possibly manage.

Dr. Rothport moves into the vacated space looking down at the supplies you already have ready for him. He hums under his breath, “Sweetheart, can you grab me a pair of gloves?” He turns to you with an overly– unwanted– smile. “Then we can get started.”

You yank two gloves out of the box on the wall and drop them unceremoniously on the tray, “Not your sweetheart.” You shift out of reach of the doctor, moving to the other side of Namjoon’s bed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I don’t mean anything by it, you’re just my favorite nurse,” he quips nonchalantly.

Before you can respond, Namjoon intercedes his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. “I don’t think she’s being ridiculous at all. After all she’s only one person’s sweetheart, isn’t that right, jagiya?”

You fight every instinct in you that wants to react and push Joon away from you. Instead you lean into his hold, your own hand gently sifting through the black strands of his hair, “You’d be correct in that, aegi.” You look down at him, and force yourself to smile at him and pray that it looks like a smile one would give to their significant other.

A sharp clearing of a throat breaks your gazes. “Oh, I wasn’t aware you had a boyfriend. I assumed you were single.”

You force a tight smile, the hand at the base of Namjoon’s head flexing a little, “Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow as he glares at you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were with someone?”

“Well, I tend to not talk about my personal life at work, and I am sure I’ve mentioned my love to you before. You’re just so busy that it’s probable it slipped your mind.”

You watch the doctor force a smile of his own as he gloves up, “This is  wonderful news, regardless.” He threads the needle and glances at Namjoon, “Well, you should definitely come to the holiday party I’m throwing for everyone this weekend. I’d love to have you.”

A smile naturally spreads across Namjoon’s full lips as he meets the doctor’s gaze, “Of course I’m coming. I was so excited when she told me it was happening. We’re just quibbling over what to bring; we hate showing up empty handed.”

You ease to a stop in front of Namjoon’s apartment building and shift your car into park. Since you were at the end of your shift when he showed up, you agreed to drop him off at his place rather than him calling your brother to pick him up. The entire twenty minute ride was a stifling silence with a soundtrack of throwback hits.  You shift in the driver’s seat, clearing your throat, “So how are we going to play this?”

Namjoon stills before shifting back to face you. “Play what?

“This fake relationship we are suddenly in.”

“We don’t have to play anything. Just tell you coworkers we broke up or I got sick or something.”

A sardonic laugh filters into the silence as you shake your head. “Yeah, no. You started us down this path, so you need to commit to this path with me.”

His brow furrows, “I don’t see why we would need to do that. No one is going to really care.”

“Joon, what do you think will happen when I show up to that party alone and Brogan realizes I am alone?” You shift your body to face him head on. “Ever since Brogan transferred to this hospital he has been invading my personal space, asking me out, and calling me ‘sweetheart.’ For six months, I have been dealing with this and I am at my breaking point.”

With wide eyes, “Wait, six months? Have you reported this to anyone? Does Teddy know about this?”

“I cannot have my brother storming into my workplace and assaulting an attending. I don’t need his good intentions to inappropriately escalate things. I reported the behavior to human resources a few weeks ago, but nothing came of it. Everyone at that damn hospital falls for his charisma.”

You watch Namjoon struggle to control his emotions, his jaw tense and his tongue stabbing a sharp dent in his cheek. You remain silent, letting him process. You glance back at him as his hand reaches over and cups your own. “Well, nae sarang, what are we bringing to his party?”

After a brief argument in the car about who would carry in the spiced cider, an argument you won after asking if he was trying to end up back in the ER if he ruptures his stitches, you step out of the warmth of your car into the chill winter air. You wait for Namjoon to join you on the walkway, your eyes tracing over the obnoxiously large house with a huge expanse of manicured grounds idyllically decorated with snow.

“Good lord, his house is as garish as his personality.” You start up the cleared walkway and approach the black front door with an ostentatious gold knocker and wait for it to open after Namjoon knocks. With a deep breath, you both slip into your roles as the door swings open.

Namjoon’s arm curls around your waist, you easily lean into his hold and paint a smile on your face as Brogan greets you and invites you inside. Namjoon’s hand slides to the small of your back ushering you inside before him. Brogan smiles at you, barely acknowledging Namjoon’s presence beside you, as he shuts the door. “So glad you could make it. You’re looking beautiful as always.” His eyes trace along the collar of your off-the-shoulder green sweater. “Really love your sweater… It's so festive.”

You suppress the shudder that begs to be let out. “Well, we are happy to be here. She talks so much about her coworkers, I can’t wait to finally meet them all!” You watch as Brogan finally looks away from you and nods his head in greeting at Namjoon.

“We are looking forward to meeting her elusive partner.” Brogan turns back to you. “Can I take that for you?” He motions at the spiced cider you’re holding.

You quickly give it up, eager for him to be away from you. Your shoulders relax as Brogan turns away from you, Namjoon’s hand rubbing soothingly against your back. “Let me take your coat for you.”

“Thanks, Joon,” you accept dropping your arms to your sides for him to slide your coat off. You straighten your dark green knitted sweater, waiting to the side for him to hang your coats up.

“You ready?” You can see the worry in his face that he is failing to mask.

Your fingers lace with his, “Let’s do this.”

You pull him behind you as you move from the foyer into the gathering area. This time a real smile dawns your face as you start greeting your colleagues. Namjoon easily falls into step beside you and plays his role to perfection. He knows exactly when to be an active participant in the various conversations and when to let you shine, interjecting cute anecdotes, witty remarks, or thoughtful observations. 

He is currently in the middle of telling an embarrassing story about you from a few years ago, when a set of arms circles around your waist from behind. You know exactly who it is without evening needing to look. A soft smile chases away the blush that was heating your face as you lean into the hold. “Hey, when did you get here?” you ask over your shoulder.

Hoseok rests his chin on your shoulder, “We just got here. Someone,” his eyes cut to the side pointedly at Jimin, “wanted to swing by the hospital. He insisted he needed to check in on his patients in the NICU.”

You giggle, “Did he? Let me guess, that side adventure took an hour.” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms, telling you all you need to know. Jimin has always gone above and beyond as a nurse in the NICU of your hospital. In fact, that is how he met his husband, Hoseok, who is a nurse two floors down in pediatrics. Your giggles grow louder, accompanied by Hoseok and Namjoon’s laugh, drawing attention from folks not even in your small circle. 

Your laughter fades because one of those people is Brogan. You stifle a sigh as you are pulled out of your comfort bubble. In your excitement to have your very close friends here, you didn’t notice the odd, surreptitious glances others have been giving you as you remain in Hoseok’s hold. You straighten and step out of Hoseok’s back hug and closer to Namjoon.

“What’s with the vibe change?” Hoseok’s eyes bounce around the circle.

Brogan clears his throat, “You seem awfully handsy with someone who has a partner. Last I checked, Namjoon doesn’t like that.”

“Also, she told us that this was the first time her coworkers were meeting Namjoon,” someone else throws out.

Hoseok and Jimin turn as a unit to look at you and Namjoon. You can feel their eyes take notice of the way his hand rests on your hip. In sync, they both slowly blink at you before turning back to the group. “Well, this may be your first introduction to Joonie here, but Hobi and I have been friends with both of them for years.” Jimin delivers with his signature smile.

Some of the tension bleeds from your shoulders as relief washes over you. You were worried for a second that Hobi or Jimin would inadvertently blow your cover. You lean into Namjoon’s side, his hand idly rubbing your hip, and smile because you should have never doubted that your close friends wouldn’t go along with your plan. 

“Still Namjoon, you seem completely fine with Hoseok being all over your woman,” Brogan brashly throws out, staring Namjoon down.

Namjoon smirks, rising to the challenge, “One, she is her own person; not an object to own. Two, who she does and does not let into her personal space is her own choice. Three, why is this any of your business?”

You turn into him slightly, a huge smile on your face, “And this is why I keep you around.”

Namjoon’s head tilts towards you as he gives a conspiratorial wink, and you can’t explain what comes next. It almost feels like an out-of-body experience as your hand reaches up to cup his jaw, you go up on your tiptoes, and kiss him. You feel his fingers flex on your hip where they rest, before he relaxes into it and kisses you back. His hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his lips move against yours. Holy shit, you are kissing your brother’s best friend!

A clearing of a throat breaks you two apart, your eyes slowly open taking in Namjoon’s own bewildered gaze. You settle back on your feet with flushed cheeks and a soft smile, your fingers brushing against your lips in a daze. A hint of pink dusts Namjoon’s cheeks, your head turns back to the group and Namjoon leans close to whisper in your ear, “That was pleasantly unexpected.”

You capture your lip between your teeth as heat creeps up your neck. Not even Brogan’s piercing gaze can steal that moment from you. You catch out of the corner of your eye, Jimin discreetly throwing you a look of surprise. You give a tiny shake of your head and mouth a ‘later.’

Brogan claps his hands, his face stony, “Well while that was riveting, shall we move on to the gift exchange?” With hums of acknowledgement, everyone starts moving to grab the presents they brought. 

Namjoon turns to you with a question in his eyes. You pat his chest, “Don’t worry about it. This was a staff exchange only.”

“Hm, that’s good seeing as I didn’t bring anything and was going to piggyback off your gift.”

You roll your eyes, “I would expect nothing less, Joon.” You head back to where you left your tote and pull out a gold gift bag with a sparkly red ribbon tied around the handles. “Since I am so gracious, this can be from both of us.” His chuckle resonates from his chest as he takes your hand again and leads you to the last open seat, plush chair next to the hearth. Namjoon takes the seat and pulls you onto his lap. You can’t help the small gasp of air that escapes you as he pulls you down with no resistance; rolling your lip between your teeth as his hand naturally comes to rest on your hip to hold you in place. 

Across the grouping of chairs, Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows at you. You shake your head diverting your eyes so as not to encourage him. Unfortunately, your gaze lands on Brogan and you catch him staring at you with narrowed eyes, jaw tense. His glare makes your skin crawl. You shift on Namjoon’s lap resting against him more, his hand soothingly rubbing your side as he catches your gaze. “Are you alright?” he whispers.

You gently knock your forehead against his, “Yes, because of you.”

The edges of his lips tilt upward. “Glad to be of service.” His eyes flick down to your lips and back to yours. You remain still as he leans in and brings your lips together, your eyes shuttering as your lips move with his. Quicker than you probably wanted, you pull back and brush your thumb along the edge of his thick bottom lip.

The eagerness of Jimin’s voice brings you out of your private bubble. “Gift time! I want to go first.” He reaches down to the side and picks up a lovely wrapped present and holds it in his lap. “I am sure you are all hoping that I was your Secret Santa  because who wouldn’t. Lucky for me, though, I was given someone who I already was shopping for. Yeobo, Merry Christmas!” Jimin turns to Hoseok and slides the present from his lap and onto Hobi’s.

Hoseok’s whole face lights up with a brilliant smile. “What! How did you keep this from me?”

“One doesn’t reveal their secrets.” Jimin leans in and pecks Hoseok’s cheek. “Hurry up now and show everyone my amazing present.”

Hoseok resembles a little kid on Christmas morning with the way he attacks the wrapping paper. In seconds, a white box is revealed and from across the way you see the Louis Vuitton insignia embossed on the lid. Hoseok is practically bouncing in his seat as he pulls open the lid and lets it slide to the floor. Reverently, he reaches in, eyes wide, and pulls out a black on black crossbody sling bag.  

Hoseok tears his eyes away from the gift to look lovingly at Jimin, “Sweets… I don’t even know what to say.”

Jimin smiles fondly at him, “A thank you and kiss would suffice.” 

Hoseok laughs and leans in kissing Jimin softly, pulling back he presses their foreheads together, “Thank you.”

“That kind of feels unfair that you got your husband as your person, but whatever,” another pediatric nurse quips. That has everyone chuckling as the gift exchange continues. It’s not long after the plush rug is littered with paper and empty gift bags as it gets down to the last few people who need to hand out their gift.

You bounce a little on Namjoon’s lap, “I want to go next!” You give the bag on your lap a little shake, “I was really excited to get this person as I have been wanting to buy this for them ever since I saw it in the store.” You slip off Namjoon’s lap and cross over to Jimin. “Merry Christmas, Chim!”

You can’t miss the way his eyes light before making your way back to Namjoon. By the time you have settled back down, Jimin has already pulled the gift out. His hands gently stroke over the cream cashmere scarf in his hands. “Oh, this is beautiful.” He sends you a fond smile and wraps the scarf around his neck, “I love it. Thank you!”

“Only the best for my bestie,” you shoot back cheesily.

“While it has been a joy to watch all of this, it is my turn to give my gift.” Brogan stands up and picks up the flat silver-wrapped box at his feet. You figured out after the halfway point that Brogan was probably your Secret Santa, and you have been dreading it ever since. You sink back into Namjoon as Brogan approaches, he offers the present to you with an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. 

You gingerly accept the box, setting it across your lap. Namjoon strokes your hip attempting to ease the tension running through you.  He props his chin on your shoulder and watches you take apart the wrapping paper to reveal a white box embossed with the name La Perla . Your back stiffens and you can already feel the heat crawling up your neck; Namjoon’s hand tightens on your hip as he watches you lift the lid off. Your lips purse tightly as you reveal the black lace corset lingerie nestled in tissue paper. Your hands grip the box edges, your body vibrating with a riot of emotions leaving you unable to speak. 

Namjoon, sensing your turmoil turns his steely gaze on Brogan and gives him an overly-saccharine grin, “Didn’t know you were so thoughtful, Brogan. While I am perfectly capable of purchasing my love lingerie, we will definitely put this to good use.” 

Finally getting a semi-handle on your emotions, you look up in time to see Brogan’s face tighten in anger, his cheeks tinting red. You lean back into Namjoon, head resting back on his shoulder as he reaches in to pick up the lace lingerie to show it to the group. “Yes thank you, Brogan. Despite it being very inappropriate to buy a colleague lingerie. I’ll make sure to wear it for my love; hopefully, it’ll make it through in one piece, Namjoon can get a little wild sometimes.”

“Lovely,” Brogan turns on his heel and walks out of the den. It feels like everyone releases the tension they were holding during that exchange and looks over at you, a mix of emotions displayed on their faces.

You cover your face with your hands, “What the fuck.”

“Mm, very quality.” You slide your hands down to peek at Jimin who’s gingerly holding the corset up and appraising it. “Don’t give me that look. He is a creep, but he does have relatively good taste.”

You snatch the garment from him and stuff it back into the box, slapping on the lid. “That is so beside the point.” You stand up and turn to look at Namjoon, “I’m ready to go. Are you?”

He nods and stands up taking the box from you as you quickly hug Jimin and Hoseok good-bye. Namjoon does the bro hug thing with them and then you’re in the foyer putting back on your layers. With one last wave, Namjoon opens the front door and jumps back, shouting in shock as a  pile of snow rushes in through the open door.

Other guests start trailing in to see what the commotion is about as you look out the door and see piles and piles of snow have accumulated over the last few hours. Something that no one had realized because Brogan had drawn all the drapes to hold out the cold.  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” you huff.

After an hour of arguing in circles, praying to a higher power, an almost brawl, and checking the weather reports, it's determined that you are all stuck for at least the night. You’re currently settled in one of several lounges in this overly large house with Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jimin. 

“Did I do something terrible in a past life?” You throw the question out as you lay on your back across one of the sofas, your legs draped over Namjoon’s lap. 

“Mmmm, probably. I always thought you did something devious in your past life. Maybe something like an interrogator or an assassin. Sometimes your looks can kill.” Jimin laughs as he catches the throw pillow you toss at his face.

“That was a rhetorical question.” 

Hoseok clears his throat, “So are we not going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Namjoon’s hand rubs soothingly up and down your calf, “Like what a massive asshole Brogan is?”

“Yes, and that apparently you’re dating your best friend’s little sister.” Hoseok eyes the both of you.

Namjoon catches your eye and shrugs one shoulder at you, leaving the choice up to you. With a sigh, you shift to a sitting position but leave your legs on Namjoon’s lap. “I would have told you if I was really with Namjoon. He is helping me keep Brogan at bay.”

Jimin straightens up, “What did he do?”

You divert your eyes, worrying your lower lip. Namjoon gently squeezes your calf and answers, “I was at the ER–”

“Again?!” Jimin interjects.

Namjoon ignores the comment and continues, “I had cut my hand pretty badly and she was assigned as my ER nurse. I witnessed Brogan inappropriately try to flirt with her and invade her space.” He looks over at you, “She was clearly upset and uncomfortable, and so I acted on instinct and pretended to be her boyfriend to get him to back off.”

“It threw me for a moment, but I went along with it and grabbed that life preserver with both hands.” You look at Namjoon, your expression relaying how grateful you are for his intervention.

Hoseok snaps, “Can’t believe that prick still works at our hospital.”

“Money talks and Daddy’s money talks even louder,” Jimin quips sardonically.

The three of you nod solemnly. Hoseok softly claps his hands, “Let’s stop wasting our time thinking about that asshole. I’d rather discuss how your fake relationship somehow includes very real kissing.”

You duck your head, cheeks heating, “Um, I don’t really have an explanation for that.” You glance at Namjoon, “It just felt right.”

“Twice?”

Namjoon’s dimples appear as he laughs softly and nods. His fingers crawl up your leg to snag your fingers in his. “Pissed Brogan off didn’t it?” Namjoon says as his eyes fill with a contradicting message.

Your hands grip the cold edge of the marble countertop in the bathroom and take a few deep breaths. Your mind is a mess and can’t seem to settle on any one thought. You’ve really managed to stick your foot in it this time and now you have to sleep in the same bed. 

Was he just playing along? 

Did he actually want to kiss you?

Will he be expecting more after those kisses? You‘re not ashamed to admit you like what you’ve experienced thus far.

Do I want more? You lift your head and stare at your reflection. Worrying at your lip, you think about the consequences if you do what you want to versus what you should probably do. You release the pull you have on your lip having made your decision. 

Namjoon is idly scrolling on his phone as he lounges on the mound of pillows on the king-size bed when you open the bathroom door and casually lean against the doorframe. The light from behind you perfectly framing every dip and curve of your body in the expensive lingerie that was gifted to you. You know you look amazing; the corset is perfectly cinched at your waist providing just the right lift to your breasts, the lace briefs highlighting everything it needs to. 

Namjoon’s eyes flick over and then back to his phone but quickly snapback, his phone slipping from his hands, as he fully takes you in. You can’t suppress the smirk that lifts your lips as his eyes trail down your body.

He slowly sits up, “Um, what are you doing?”

“What feels good.”

He blinks slowly at you, his mouth still gaping.

“It would be a shame to waste all of this, no?” Your hand trails down your side from just under your chest to your hip.

Namjoon stands up and stalks toward you, the intensity of his gaze ensnaring yours. He comes to a stop, leaving just a breath of space between you. He lightly runs his finger along the thin strap of the corset, it’s more like a whisper of a touch actually. “It would be a crime to not take advantage of the generosity provided to us.”

Your breath shudders as that whisper of a touch teases along the top of the corset, teasing you. “Absolutely,” you whisper.

Namjoon’s lips crash against yours as he yanks you against him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, arching into him as his tongue sweeps into your mouth. You slide one hand into the hair at his nape, the other gripping the back of his shirt as you meet him with equal vigor. He slides his hands down your waist to your hips before sliding around to grip your ass and lifting you into the air. You don’t hesitate to wrap your legs around his waist, your tongues dueling with each other.

A grunt forced from your mouth into his as your back collides with the wall, his hips pinning you to the hard surface as his hands navigate back to your waist. You nip and pull at his thick bottom lip as his fingers dig into your ribs. He dives down to your neck, his tongue leaving behind a wet trail before settling on a spot and sucking. 

Namjoon presses his forehead to yours, his breath gusting against your face, as he pauses the frenzy. He gently squeezes your waist, “Are you really sure? If we cross this line, there’s no going back.”

Your tongue traces over your lips and you nod. “I am very sure. Ever since that first kiss, I haven’t stopped thinking of the possibilities.”

As the last words leave your lips, his hips kick forward grinding your lower back hard against the wall as his hands wedge between to start popping open the fastenings on your corset. Your head falls back against the wall, his mouth leaving a string of purple bruises down the column of your neck. A surprised gasp is pulled from you at the sudden pressure of his teeth biting down on the skin of your collar bone. You arch into it, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

You feel the deep timbre of his laugh more than hear it, “Mmm, you liked that huh?” He unhooks the last fastener, your chest spilling free as the tension of lace falls away. You hold eye contact, your teeth digging into your own lip, as his large palm cups you and slowly starts to squeeze. The rhythm of your breathing falters with the slow increase in pressure around your tender breast, drawing a whimper from you. His eyes dart to the mottled skin around his fingers as he maintains the harsh grip he has on you. “There something you want to tell me?”

He releases his grip, the pressure from his hold leaving behind a dark reddish-purple ring around your breast. You buck your hips as much as you can as blood rushes back into the area. “Take my mind off tonight. Make me forget everything. I won’t break…but it never hurts to try.”

You can see the sparks ignite in his eyes as his lips collide with yours, this kiss punishing and intense. Before your body can fully react to it, your grip on gravity is yanked away as you sail through the air and land with a bounce on the plush bed. You lay there for a beat, heart racing before leveraging up onto your elbows. Fortunately just in the nick of time because you get a front row seat to Namjoon stripping off his clothes as he stalks toward the bed after you. The last piece of clothing, his boxer briefs, join the rest of the clothes strewn across the floor; your eyes can’t settle on any one thing to look at. 

Namjoon is a fucking adonis. Your eyes run from his broad shoulders to the taper of his waist down to follow his v-line straight to the thick cock framed by even thicker thighs. A startled sound escapes you as he grabs one of your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the mattress, stepping in between your spread legs. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jaw before tilting your head back and meeting your eyes. His fingers slip back to cup the back of your hair, your body tensing in anticipation. Suddenly his grip on your hair tightens, yanking your head back sharply, “Tap out if it’s too much.”

You’re barely able to nod your head before being pulled forward and having your lips spread open by his cock. You roll your eyes up to watch him watch you as his hips continue their slow press forward only stopping when his tip is nestled at the back of your throat. He stills for a moment just taking the view in, but it’s not long before you become impatient. You flutter your lashes at him and that turns out to be the perfect thing to set him off.

His hips draw back and snap forward, his hand holding you in place as he starts fucking your mouth. Your fingers curl and hold onto the blankets under you as he uses your mouth. You can’t help but moan around him with the way his cock is perfectly stretching your jaw wide and coating your tongue with the taste of him. Your deep moan has his hips kicking forward even harder, his cock sliding down your throat. Your eyes sting with the pricking of tears as his pace intensifies, your body flushed with need as he takes what he wants from you.

“Fuck, your mouth. It’s so perfect,” he moans, head falling back on his shoulders before rolling to look down at you. “Just look at you taking my cock so well.” His pace slows until with one last deep push he buries his cock deep in your throat, your nose almost touching his pelvis. He keeps you there for a moment, your throat spasming as you choke on the meat of him.

Your seconds from needing to tap out when he pulls you off him, a thick trail of your saliva tethers you together before snapping when he releases his hold on your hair letting you collapse back on the bed. Your throat burns as you suck down air while simultaneously giving in to the urge to cough and clear your throat. Namjoon stands over you watching you patiently. It’s not too long before your body calms and you look up at him, face wet with tears and slick with your spit.

“Okay?”

You give a raspy laugh, “Never better.”

“Who knew you were hiding this side of you? How much more can you take?”

You bite your lip and lift one of your legs to slide your foot up along the hard planes of his abdomen. “I contain multitudes.” You slide your foot down until your toes are lightly ghosting down his length, “All of it.”

A visible tremor runs through you as Namjoon gives you a devious smile and glides his hands down your legs to the lace edges of your lingerie. He balls his fist in the front panel and yanks, ripping them from your body. Your hips are jerked off the bed with the force of it. A deep pulse throbbing within you at the aggression.

You can feel the weight of his gaze between your legs, you watch as he bites his own lip before sliding a finger through your swollen, wet lips. His finger dips in teasing you before he plunges two fingers into you. You arch off the bed with a gasp, your body clasping tight around him. 

His fingers quickly work you into a frenzy, a deep heat coiling in your belly that has you yanking on the bedding around you. You're ready for the explosion of pleasure that is about to happen when his fingers yank free of you. Your eyes snap open, “What the fuck?”

He straightens and shrugs, “I don’t think you earned it just yet.”

If looks could kill, daggers would be piercing his chest right now. As is, he just chuckles at your frustration, grabbing you by the hips. He flips you over onto your front, your hips curved right over the edge of the bed. A ringing sound echoes through the room as a sharp sting blooms along your ass. His hand soothingly rubs the sting away before he grips both your hips and tilts you just right. 

Your breath shudders from you as you feel his heat glide between your aching lips and teases your tight bundle of nerves. He repeats the motion again and again until you’re a mewling mess in front of him. Tears prick your eyes in frustration, your body desperate for more when the heat of his body leaves you for a brief moment before connecting back with you. His pelvis slams against your ass as he buries his cock inside you.

You don’t even bother to smother the scream that escapes you as he splits you open on his thick cock. You’re writhing on the bed, unsure if you are trying to get away or get closer to him. He waits patiently until you’ve calmed and have relaxed back into the mattress before moving again.

The slow drag of him leaving you pulls moans from both of you, your walls clinging to every inch of him. It’s only the tightening of his grip on you that gives you a warning as he snaps his hips forward again. The pace he sets is brutal as he fucks you into the mattress. Your hands desperately grapple at the bedding needing to hold on as he fucks you into another universe. The skin of your ass burning with the intensity of his thrusts driving you higher and higher.

You cry out as his fist wraps in your hair and yanks you backward, pressing your back to his chest. The tip of his cock hitting you at just the right angle has you clawing at his arms, your eyes rolling back in your head. One hand remains on your hip as he keeps pace, the other sliding to curl around the front of your neck pushing your head back to rest on his shoulder.

The cries you were letting out are swiftly cut off as his hand squeezes down around your throat. Your walls tighten around him as he slowly increases the pressure from just restricting your vocal chords to cutting off your air flow completely. The speed of his thrusts slows as your pussy clamps down tighter on his cock. A few more deep thrusts has your nails biting hard into his arms, leaving deep red crescents. He releases his grip on your throat and the rush of oxygen back into your lungs along with the waves of pleasure crashing through you has you seeing stars.

You’re almost completely out of it as Namjoon rams deep one more time and spills into your depths. You both fall forward onto the bed, Namjoon just manages to catch himself on his left arm so he doesn’t crush you. You’re unsure of how long you remain like that as you come back to earth, but soon he is pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom as you lay there eyes closed.

You jolt back to awareness when the warm softness of a cloth strokes between your legs. You squirm as he brushes against your sensitive pussy before settling back down when he tosses the cloth toward the bathroom door and helps you shift to lay fully on the bed. He shuffles in next to you and pulls the duvet over you both.

You curl against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you loosely wrap an arm and a leg around him. You nuzzle at the skin of his bare chest, “Mmm, so how are we going to break this to Teddy?”

[jessread-s]

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for providing me with an e-ARC in exchange for an honest review

✩☁️💜Review:

Henry Turner and Halle Jacobs are my everything!

“Daydream” follows Henry Turner, the captain of the hockey team, and Halle Jacobs, and aspiring author, as they strike a deal amongst themselves to overcome their respective challenges in a difficult year. In exchange for being Henry’s private tutor to help him maintain his good academic standing, he will give Halle new experiences to beat her writer’s block. They just need to stick to their rule book. Simple enough…right?

First and foremost — Hannah Grace, just in case anyone hasn’t told you this yet, “Daydream” WAS worth waiting for! It is beautifully written and will be held close to my heart from this point forward. 

As an eldest daughter, I heavily related to Halle and her people-pleasing tendencies. The loneliness that stemmed from taking on so much and putting everyone else first truly made my heart ache. 

Henry faces many obstacles of his own, like the pressure he puts on himself to be a good team captain. I appreciate the way Grace portrays his neurodivergence. It felt realistic and she handles it with care, which is so important in terms of representation. I enjoyed reading from his perspective and learned a lot from how he views the world and processes conflict. 

I adore Henry and Halle’s dynamic. Henry puts Halle first and Halle, having a sister with an ADHD diagnosis, makes every effort to understand Henry and his needs. She is very observant of his body language and gives him space when he needs to sort through his feelings. I especially love the pacing of this book surrounding Henry and Halle’s physical intimacy. Halle had a lot of anxiety surrounding it due to her previous relationship and Henry was so patient with her. He made sure to be respectful of her timeline, ask for consent, and check in with her. Throughout the book they maintain a healthy relationship by being open and honest with each other. Not only is it heartwarming, but it contributes to their insane chemistry! 

Cross-posted to: Instagram | Amazon | Goodreads | StoryGraph

[darlingillustrations]

I need you.

I don’t really like talking about the years I didn’t make art.

It wasn’t just the pandemic. Well… it was the pandemic… but it was so much more than that.

I don’t like talking about it, not because I am ashamed of those years, but because we all had difficult things we went through. I don’t want to focus on the hardships. I don’t want to give them any more attention or power.

But my hardships were very real, and they started long before the global pandemic. I look back on those early years when I had no money and was struggling so much, and I honestly don’t know how we paid our bills. Grace. That’s all I come back to time and again.

My kids and I had nothing, and we were carried through great difficulties by the kindness of others.

It was terrifying.

Maybe that’s why it is a little terrifying, returning to making a living from my art again.

The wild thing is: when I look back on the early years of my art business, it’s not the hardships that stick with me. It’s a little difficult to explain, exactly, but I think what I feel is something akin to faith.

It felt like I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing, and–during a time in my life when it was hard to believe in anything at all–I was carried through.

It made me believe in something new, something mysterious, something somewhat unnameable.

And when I started making art again, it was not because I had no other choice for how to support my kids, but because I realized: I really couldn’t see myself believing in any path as much as I believe in this one.

I have so many dreams about goals for this year…

I want to give you new Affectionate Animal couples for Valentines Day.

I want to have a shop in every state in the US that sells my work.

I want to do the difficult work of finding shops in highly conservative areas where my queer little light can shine the brightest.

I want to finish my Calico Jill story.

I want to keep painting new art.

I need your support to make these dreams a possibility.

Please support my shop this holiday season. There are many ways you can do this:

Use my queer holiday cards for your holiday greetings

Buy something for yourself

If someone asks you what you want for the holidays, point them to my work

Buy something for others

Email 3 people you care about, share my art with them and tell them why you think they would like it

Share a picture in your online communities and talk about why you want to support my work

Leave a review on the art in my shop

Please walk this path with me into our unknowable future, and let’s make it a place that is a little more connected and affectionate for us all.

♡ Erin Darling (she/them)

Link to shop: https://darlingillustrations.com/store/

[selfdestructivecat]

I’ve seen quite a few posts in response to Thomas’ recent video, specifically his year in review. In this video, he discusses the setbacks he’s faced the past few years — such as the quarantine, Joan’s departure, and his own personal doubts and insecurities — and how they impacted the production of Sanders Sides.

And I truly sympathize with him. No, seriously! It’s already difficult to create something this big almost entirely on your own, but I’m sure this year only made things even more difficult. I know I’ve definitely felt insecure to the point of feeling sick when it came to things I created, so I can empathize with the enormous amount pressure he must be feeling.

However, many posts I’ve seen following this video are saying things along the lines of “If people still criticize Thomas after this video, then I’m going to lose it” or “Not that people who criticize Thomas even care, but Thomas really struggled this year. I’m with him all the way!”, or even “I bet SaSi critics will still demand the finale even after this. I doubt they’ll even watch the video!”

I want to clarify that this is obviously not everyone who doesn’t like ts criticism. People who block criticism blogs and/or the tag, who ignore criticism in general, or who feel upset when they see criticism of something they love: this is not about you. You are absolutely valid and entitled to feeling the way you do, and I hope you have a lovely day. Feel free to block me if that would be good for your mental health. Please take care of yourself. /gen

But to those vocally condemning ts critics, I want to make several things clear.

First of all, you are lumping everyone who criticizes the show in with people who demand the finale with no regard for Thomas’ well-being, for the well-being of his crew, and for basic common sense. While many people are upset that the finale isn’t out yet, we aren’t specifically mad that we don’t have a completed video to watch; rather, we are frustrated with what this says about the SaSi crew, their work ethic, and how they treat fans of the show.

We aren’t upset that we can’t watch the finale right now. We are upset that we’ve gotten very few updates about the show during this period between canon episodes. This video provided wonderful insight into why the finale has been delayed, and we would have loved something like this years ago. Obviously it didn’t have to be a 20 minute video, but maybe a Twitter thread? Something small that made us feel heard?

Hell, even announcing an official hiatus would have satisfied the vast majority of critics (myself included), instead of throwing SaSi into this limbo of “Oh it’s going to be finished this year, we promise- oh whoops, never mind! Next year for sure!” It’s been a constant chain of broken promises, and we were more than happy to give the crew some grace the first few times, but after a while, a repeated mistake becomes a pattern. And this pattern is not pretty.

We are upset that the crew seems incredibly disorganized (going back to the lack of updates, and of course taking into account how we haven’t gotten even a single part of the finale in five years), which could affect the quality of this series we all love so dearly. beauty-and-passion has spoken about this a lot (and is a lot more eloquent than me lmao, please go check out their stuff!) The most recent Christmas video seems to demonstrate that the series may be on the right track, and I will admit I was wrong in regards to this video, but the Inside Out video is a mess in so many ways. Even if this doesn’t prove a decline in quality, it certainly indicates a lack of consistency, which can be just as damning for a series.

We are upset that, while SaSi is in this limbo, Thomas seems to have been focusing on his other projects without telling us about this change in priority. He is welcome to pursue other projects, obviously. I’m thrilled that he is having fun with Roleslaying with Roman and My Roommate is Hades. But these new projects have come at the cost of Sanders Sides content, which also points towards a lack of organization. Some clarity towards which projects Thomas chooses to focus on would have been wonderful and greatly appreciated, so that we know not to expect something we won’t receive. And hey, maybe if we knew not to expect SaSi content until much later, maybe we wouldn’t have been constantly asking why we weren’t receiving SaSi content?

(And this is not an excuse for aggressively demanding content, obviously. But I feel like people who are confused and frustrated at not receiving something promised to them are justified in these feelings.)

And maybe we’re jumping to conclusions in many regards. I won’t pretend that we are prophets who can peer into Thomas’ mind and know what he’s thinking and feeling at all times. But it’s pretty damn difficult to say that NONE of the above could suggest that Sanders Sides isn’t held in the same regard as it once was. Hell, Thomas even admits in the video that he doesn’t feel as connected with these characters as he once did.

Second, many people attacking critics are also quick to drag their character. We are impatient, greedy, selfish, and cruel. We don’t care about Thomas; we only care about the end product! More Sanders Sides at any cost! We don’t like critical thinking, since we obviously didn’t watch the video; we only want to find mean things to say about Thomas and the show! We don’t like engaging in civil debate with our fellow Fanders who may disagree with our opinions; we only want to make other people feel bad, and to make others hate the show, too!

Well, guess what? You’re doing to us exactly what you think we’re doing to Thomas: you’re assuming the absolute worst of us and looking for any reason to drag us down.

We are critics. We analyze media (media that we love, mind you) and we acknowledge that it isn’t perfect, that the creators aren’t perfect, and we point it out. But we still love it anyway, because to truly love something is to love it with its flaws, to know that it could be better, to brainstorm how it could reach its true potential, and to keep doing so because you believe in this potential.

We aren’t trying to take away the joy you feel from Sanders Sides. So please don’t try to take away ours.

[sheepiemc]

Seven Stupid Reasons to Summon a Demon

Reason #4: need to scream about a bad book

CW: strong language (it's not anything too vulgar, MC just says fuck a lot because wrath - if this were a movie, it would be rated R for language)

Today was the perfect day to read. 

It’s been gloomy all week, today included, and you finally got a day off from work. You have this book that you’ve been meaning to finish for a few weeks now and by gosh, you intend to get through it today. 

When you first started it, you only got 20 pages in but you told yourself you just haven’t gotten to the good part yet. You’ve been trying to get to the good part all day but something else captures your attention. Like how your cat needs to be played with, or your plants need to be watered, or it’s a great day to make soup! 

Perfect soup day… 

Now you gotta make soup. 

And when your cat sits in your lap to take a nap, well, it’s not like you can get up and get your book that’s sitting on the coffee table oh-so-far away. There’s always something getting between you and this damn book. 

Next thing you know, the sun is setting (at least, you think it is; the gray clouds are so heavy you can’t really tell how low the sun is in the sky) and you haven’t made any progress. 

When your cat finally releases you to complain about not being fed yet, you are determined to at least make a bigger dent than before. Once the little prince has been fed, you settle on the couch and get to reading. 

And you read for a bit — 30 pages — before your leg falls asleep and you switch positions on the couch. Then, you keep reading — 40 pages — before the silence gets to you and you have to pick some music to fit the mood. Now, you can keep reading and you get to 50 pages — before you just end up staring out the window. 

You think you hear thunder in the distance but you can’t be sure. Not unless you sit in silence and stare out the window for 15 minutes without hearing any more thunder. Maybe it was a sound effect in the music you’re listening to. 

Your eyelids are getting kinda heavy but you slap your cheeks lightly to wake yourself up. You just gotta get to the good part! You get 10 more pages in before you feel your head lolling forward and your eyelids droop once again. You snap to attention once again and decide it’s time to take a phone break. You got as far as you did, you’ve earned it. 

After scrolling through social media for a bit, your curiosity gets the better of you and you casually Google: “when do we get to the good part” in the book you're reading. You usually try to avoid reviews of books before you read them because you don’t want other people’s opinions influencing your judgment, but this book is proving quite difficult to get through on its own. Maybe if you know something good is coming around the corner, you’ll be more interested in reading it; what you end up finding thoroughly surprises you. 

More than that, it boils your blood. 

“WHAT?” You say out loud, to no one in particular.

You’re fuming! 

“What the FUCK?”

You’re so mad, in fact, you have to let all this energy out somewhere! 

You need to vent. 

And you know exactly who you need to call in this situation. 

You march all the way back to your room, book in hand, to get that cursed book off its specific, and highly prized, spot on your bookshelf. You close your eyes and concentrate, taking in several deep breaths as you do. 

You open your eyes to a flash of green light and Satan stands before you in your room, with a look of surprise gracing his features. 

“MC, to what do I owe—” He notices your wrath bubbling just under the surface, which is unusual but not unwelcome to him, “—the pleasure?” 

You calmly replace the cursed book back on your shelf and hold the other “cursed” book up for Satan to see. “I’m tired of this stupid book!” 

“Ah,” Satan nods once and uses magic to pull up your desk chair to sit in. “Of course. Go on.” 

You let out a shout of frustration before you continue, “It just never got any better! After I gave it so many chances!” 

Satan nods in understanding. 

“The main character is just so annoying, she’s a serious NLOG. ‘Oh, I used to be like other girls, but now I’m not because I like sex and I murdered a guy once but he probably deserved it.’ Like, get in line.” 

At that, Satan chuckles but he doesn’t interrupt your train of thought. Your cat peeks his head in at the commotion and makes a beeline for Satan’s lap once he spots him. 

“And she has zero self-preservation instincts! Like she goes to confront a guy — who is definitely a vampire, by the way — ALONE, IN AN ALLEY, AFTER SHE WATCHED HIM KILL A GUY, and she has the nerve to question him about said murder?” 

“Huh, a human? Going up against a creature much more powerful than themselves? What a foolish person they must be.” 

“Hush, smart guy, I’m not done ranting.” 

Satan laughs, “Continue.” 

“On top of all that sheer stupidity, I find out that this other main character that was definitely advertised to be a vampire — he’s not even a FUCKING VAMPIRE, he only BECOMES a vampire at the very end of the book!” 

“No…” 

“YES! And it’s not because he wants to. It's to save his life! That means this fool is running around in out-of-fashion clothes and saying things like, ‘If you’ve been alive as long as I have…’ for the DRAMA of it all!” 

Satan tsks. 

“I feel like I’ve been cheated!! And there’s four other books in the series??? Why should I keep reading this garbage? Nope, I can’t do it anymore. I’m done.” 

You punctuate that last statement by throwing the book on the bed with a huff. 

Satan scritches your cat’s chin as he says, “You know what I think?” 

“What—” 

“I think you need new reading material.” He stands up from his chair and lifts your boy into his arms at the same time. The unexpected change in altitude startles the cat and he wriggles his way out of Satan’s arms and onto the floor. You both watch as he leaves the room to find a more stable napping place. 

Satan then looks at you expectantly. 

You look back at him, then at the TBR pile growing on your desk, then at the large bookcase overflowing with books already. “You know what I think…” You look back at him, “I think you’re absolutely right. Let me just get changed.” 

You shoo Satan out of your bedroom and change out of your house clothes in record time. When you emerge from your room, Satan presents his arm for you to hold. Who knew the devil would be such a gentleman? 

As you leave your apartment, you call to your cat over your shoulder, “Be good.” 

As you make your way to your favorite bookstore and café that’s a convenient walking distance from your apartment, you ask Satan, “Are you looking for some new human world reading material as well?” 

“Well, that, and it’s just nice to get out of the house once in a while.” He looks up to the sky. The heavy gray clouds are less noticeable because of how dark it is but you know they’re still there. 

You look up too, and say, “I hope it won’t rain on the one day I actually choose to leave the house.” 

Satan smirks down at you. “Now, what are the odds of that happening right now?” 

A roll of thunder sounds off in the distance and you stop dead in your tracks. Satan keeps walking but turns to face you when your arm leaves his. 

“You had to jinx it didn’t you?” 

His smile widens. “Do you think we’ll make it before it comes down?” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “If I have to run, I’ll make you regret it.” 

He steps up to you just as you feel the slightest drops of rain land on your nose. “I’d like to see how you would make me do that.” 

A few more drops and you scowl venomously at him, his face only inches from yours. 

“Humans…” He chuckles and takes off running when more drops settle around you and you take off after him, laughing. 

You make it to the bookstore in one piece, albeit soaking wet. The familiar brown brick exterior is already warming you up before you’ve even set foot inside. A light tinkling of the bell in the doorway announces your presence in the shop and someone far inside friendly shouts, “Welcome!” as you cross the threshold. You pause for a moment just to take in the immaculate vibes of this place. 

The brown brick of the exterior continues in the interior. Bookshelves line the walls and tower over you, some books are up so high, you wonder how anyone is supposed to get those books off the shelf. String lights drape across the ceiling and add a moody glow to the atmosphere. At the far end of the store is the espresso bar and café, with its mismatched bar stools and dangling exposed lightbulbs. All the furniture here is lovingly worn and there are innumerable cozy corners where you can pick up a book and cuddle up with a cup of coffee. 

You take a deep breath and sigh, your mood stabilizing already. Satan takes your saturated jacket and hangs it on the coat rack by the door as you try to wring out the excess moisture in your hair. He walks further into the store — past you — and when you meet his eye, he winks. A gust of warm wind dries your clothes and hair instantaneously and your eyes widen as you look around to see if there’s anyone who might have noticed. Your panic subsides when you realize there aren’t many people here anyway and everyone who is here is too engrossed in what they’re doing to make a note of how a couple of strangers magically got dry. 

Before he can get too far from you, you tug on Satan’s arm. He turns around to look at you questioningly. 

“I just got a brilliant idea!” You meet his gaze with a wide smile. “What if we make it a game?” 

“A game?” 

“Yeah, we both go in and separate, looking for a book we think the other will enjoy. We’ll meet back up at the cafe and read our books and then we’ll determine the winner.” 

“Hmmm…” Satan holds a finger to his chin in thought. “And what does the winner win, exactly?” 

You can tell you've interested him. Now, you just have to reel him in. You mirror his thinking posture, finger-to-chin and everything. “Hmmm… Maybe whatever the winner wants, the loser will have to give to them?” 

“Oh, MC, that sounds dangerous.” You catch a glimpse of something in his eyes as he smiles — maybe it's a warning?  

You shrug nonchalantly. “I like a little danger.” 

He bares his teeth in a wide grin. “May the best demon win, then.” 

“Hey!” You shout after him as he winks and heads off into the store proper. 

Oh, it's on. 

Now, this bookstore is fairly large for being squished between two apartment buildings. It’s longer than it is wide and two stories, with most of the first floor dedicated to the café and spaces for lounging. The bookshelves on this floor house the newly published books. The second floor loft is a labyrinth of bookcases — covered wall to wall in books of all genres — with a dedicated children’s section in the back. 

You think you saw Satan head upstairs, so you try your luck with the new books first. How do you pick a book for the demon who’s read everything? Well, you can start with books that have just come out. 

You pass some new history books, but what good would that be when you are almost as old as time? New memoirs and biographies? There’s only one human life of interest to Satan and you haven’t written a book (yet). 

You pick up a cookbook. That might be interesting. He likes to cook. But you don’t think you will win with a silly list of recipes, now matter how delicious they might be. 

You look at the art books and poetry books but knowing how fast he goes through books they might only hold his attention for a short time. You need something good. You pick up a book called Books Make A Home: Elegant Ideas for Storing and Displaying Books and crack a smile. He might take this as a dig at how messy his room is. As hilarious as that might be, you don’t think you would win with that selection. 

You finally look at new fiction. A thriller or mystery is more his speed anyway. But none of the covers or descriptions catch your attention. Maybe you should throw a curveball and get a romantic comedy? You pick one up that boasts a plot about the son of Lucifer trying to stop the apocalypse with a human woman and of course, they fall in love along the way. You quickly put it back and shudder at how Satan might react if you presented him with this book for your competition. 

Time to switch tactics. Maybe you should go with a book that you have read before but haven’t shared with him yet? With no luck down stairs, you make your way to the second floor, still no sign of Satan. Good, you don't want him to see you empty handed with how long you have been here already. 

You snake your way through the aisles, waiting for a book you recognize — or anything really — to jump out at you, catch your attention, and say, “This one right here will make Satan eat his words and admit defeat!” 

You find yourself in the young adult section. It's near the back where the children's section is but it's still separated by a half-wall; an appropriate place, right between being a kid and an adult.  

Ah yes, your teen angst days. You remember them well. You think about how Satan, in a way, has been going through his “teen angst” days for longer than you’ve even been alive. You wonder if he has ever read any of these kinds of books, or if he considers himself above that kind of thing, or maybe he’s “too old” for them. 

You scan the shelves and your eye catches a title on one of the higher shelves. It's a beautiful but impractical arrangement of the shelves. They’re so tall that you would need to call a worker with a ladder to get to some. The one you spot, however, is juuust out of reach that you think you can get if you use the lower shelf as a step. You reach for it on your tippy toes but it barely brushes your fingers. You adjust again and try to reach— when a larger hand with green nail polish easily reaches for the very same book you were trying to grab. 

You quickly turn and lose your balance, forgetting you stepped up onto the shelf to reach as far as you did. You surrender to gravity’s whims, but those same well-manicured hands grab you and steady you by the waist. 

“MC-!” You end up being slightly dipped in Satan’s arms. He searches your face for any pain or discomfort but is quickly reassured when you burst out in laughter. Once he knows for certain you are alright, he steadies you back on your feet and picks up the book that started this, as it lay forgotten on the floor. He stares quizzically at the cartoon devil gracing the front cover before you snatch it from his hands and hold it behind your back. 

“You weren’t supposed to see that yet.” 

“Is that the book you chose for me?” There’s humor in his voice, he sounds almost incredulous. 

“MAYBE.” You huff. “I haven’t made a commitment yet. I was still looking when you snuck up behind me!” 

He smirks at you, not falling for your frantic deflection. “You looked like you could use a hand.” 

“I’m certain I could have figured it out on my own.” You’re indignant and you're not sure why. Maybe because he was laughing at the book? You turn your back to him and look at the book you picked again. Was it silly to give him a kid’s book? “This book meant a lot to me when I first read it. It’s about a demon from hell getting a taste of human life. I learned a lot about life and myself from reading it, actually.” 

If you were looking at Satan, you would see his face soften at the confession. He tilts his head to the side and rests his hand lightly on your shoulder. When you turn to look at him, he snakes his hand down your arm to hold your hand. 

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step closer to you and brings your hand to his lips. “If you picked it out for me, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” 

You feel your face bloom with heat from the unexpectedly sweet gesture. He gives you a teasing smile when you still don’t say anything. 

You look down, away from his almost smug expression, and focus on his hands. They’re empty. You look back up at him. 

“Did you not find one yet?” 

His expression doesn’t falter. “I left it at the register so we could pay together. I also got a few other things that interested me from downstairs.” 

“Let’s get going then.” You grab his hand tight and pull him along. 

You make your purchases downstairs and get something from the café. As you come back with both of your orders — one latte complete with kitty foam latte art and one caramel black milk tea — you find Satan sitting on a loveseat, reading the book you got him. 

“You’ve already started??” You put the drinks down on the coffee table in front of you and nearly trip over the bag of your books to get to his side quicker.

“Careful, MC,” he grabs your arm to steady you on the couch. “How else are we going to determine who won?” 

“No fair, you got a head start! And you know I don’t read as fast as you, Sa- Stan.” You catch yourself before you say his real name. You don’t think anyone’s paying attention — or really cares — but sometimes you get funny looks from strangers when you say that name in public. Satan cringes at the “nickname”. It bothers him to no end when you use it and that always tickles you. 

“Well, MC,” he says pointedly, reaching for something in the bag of books. “That's why I chose something that was reasonable in length.” 

The book he presents you is still easily over 100 pages in length but, compared to the other books he has recommended to you, this one actually is quite reasonable. You hold the book in your hands and consider it. You don’t have anywhere else to be. And this place stays open pretty late. You shrug, plop down next to Satan, and get to reading. 

Hours pass and Satan easily gets thru the book you gave him and several others he picked up for himself. He even got up once to buy another one after he went through his whole stack. All while you’ve been engrossed in the read Satan picked out for you. 

Line after line, page after page, chapter after chapter, you devour the book like it was made for you. If you didn't know any better, you would say it was enchanted, or that Satan did some funny business to the pages to make you keep reading — without stopping — until the very end. But you do know better, and you know that this book is just that good. 

It's really late now but you don’t care. You’re loving every minute of this. 

Until you get to the end. 

You stare at those last few words at the bottom of the page. Your mind is racing. In your haste to get to the end, you skimmed and skimmed paragraph after paragraph to find those words you were desperate to see. You couldn’t believe it. That can’t be how it ends. You don't know how long you stare at those cruel letters but you definitely aren't reading them anymore. 

You frantically flip to the beginning of the chapter and read through it again. Maybe you just missed something? Maybe it will be different this time. You hardly register the tears in your eyes before they blur your vision completely and you can no longer continue reading. 

You shut the book and study the front cover through your tears. So innocuous. Who knew this damn book would break your heart so thoroughly? Your grief quickly transforms into rage, directed not at the characters, or even the author — but at the damned demon that recommended the book to you in the first place, who was thoroughly enjoying all your precious reactions while sitting calmly next to you. 

You stand up and turn to him, without lifting your head. You look at the front cover one last time before you raise the book high in the air and throw it back to Satan as hard as you can. You’re not worried about hurting him — his reflexes are so fast, you’re sure he’ll be able to catch it. Besides, there are very few materials in all three realms that can cause serious harm to a demon — a paperback is not one of them. 

Unsurprisingly, he catches it before it makes contact with his face. “Did you enjoy it?” 

You look up in time to catch that smug grin plastered across his face.

“What… the FUCK?” 

You take a step towards him, fists balled with rage at your sides. You’re getting ready to square up when he says, “We’re in public, dear. You don’t want to make a scene, do you?” 

Despite his words, you can see in his eyes that he would really love for you to make a scene. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but he’s already eating up your barely contained wrath. His easy smile never leaves his face, as if this was just one big joke to him. 

That’s it. 

You lunge for him, hands going straight for his neck. He catches those, too, of course, but with his hands occupied, he cant stop you from slamming your knee down on the cushion between his legs. Just a warning. That wipes the grin clean off his face. In fact, he looks almost impressed. He closes his legs around your knee to keep it from moving any closer. 

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?” Even though your no match for his strength, that doesn’t stop you from trying to get him — to what end, you aren’t sure. Do you actually want to hurt him or are you trying to release your frustrations in a very unproductive manner? These are the thoughts you would be having if your mind wasn’t blank with rage. “It can’t end like that. It fucking CAN’T!”

And the object of your frustrations is loving every minute of this. You’re sure he’s humoring you when you get awfully close to reaching his neck. “Careful, darling. If you don’t calm down, I might transform and then we’ll both be in trouble.” You can see that warning from earlier in the night flash again in his eyes, like he wants to get in trouble with you. The vibrant green is almost glowing like fire. 

“How could you do that to me?!” You continue to struggle in his grasp. “How did you know how to hurt me so perfectly?” 

You start to smell sulfur before you finally slump against him, absolutely spent. The burst of rage and the time of night have finally caught up you, the smell of sulfur fading with your energy. He releases your hands and they fall uselessly to his chest. You lay your head there, too. 

“That was so fucked up.” You feel Satan’s chest rumble with a noise of agreement as he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. You take a deep breath and let it out shakily, tears still flowing and staining his sweater. 

“Did you like it?” 

You let out a high-pitched, “Mmmhmmm”, not trusting your voice won’t crack if you try to speak again. Satan rubs your back. 

You take another deep breath and say, “It was so good but so… sad at the end.” He holds you tighter. 

“I know. If you don’t like how it ends, we can always write our own ending.” You lift your head from his chest and look at him. It's the same thing you suggested to him when he read that book that made him cry. You smile sadly at the memory. Looking into his eyes now, you find the hidden sadness, beneath the hot anger, beneath the cool mask that he wears. His eyes search your own. You wonder what he finds in them. 

Finally, you say, “It’s the sad that makes it good.” He nods in agreement. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck. He laughs. 

“I’m normal, I swear,” you say. “Can we just stay like this a little while longer?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving for anything in all three realms.” 

And you two are at peace. 

Before the confused barista at the coffee bar comes over and says, “We’re gonna be closing in 10, so could y'all…?” 

You shoot up immediately and wipe whatever tear stains from your face that remain. “Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry!” 

You extricate yourself from Satan and pull him off the loveseat you were lounging on. You gather your things as Satan scowls at the poor barista. “It’s so late, I have to get home to my little boy.” 

Satan looks back at you and smiles, knowing exactly who you’re talking about. 

You scoot out the door, the bell above the door jingling one last time tonight, and make your way back to your apartment.

Once you are outside on the sidewalk, you slip your arm through his and say, “So, what did you think of the book I gave you?”

“It was… an interesting depiction of demons. I liked it, though it did feel a little preachy toward the end.” 

“Soooo,” Your hand finds his and you entwine your fingers together. “Who won?” 

“Well, let’s see, considering I didn’t cry and try to hurt you over how emotional I got over your book…”

“Alright, I get it, you don’t have to rub it in.” 

Satan chuckles. “Winner gets whatever they want, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Embarrassment floods your system and your cheeks feel warm. Why did you say that? Why did you think you would win? Hopefully, he’ll ask for something easy for you to give him.

“Don’t worry, MC.” Satan laughs again. “I got everything I wanted already.” He brings your entwined hands to his mouth and kisses your hand softly. You rest your head against his upper arm and play with his fingers with both of your hands.

“I saw you read a lot of other books in there. Any good ones?” 

He proceeds to tell you all about the other books he got today, some were “absolute drivel” and others were “not too bad, actually”. But your favorite one was when he talked about a book about storing and displaying his books that will be “quite useful at home”. 

You smiled to yourself.

You know your demons so well. 

[faces-ofvenus]

a spicy new year

Damn I just managed to write this on day one, it's tears coming out of my eyes, but I know you didn't read it on day 1 but I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: minors don't read, this is already normal isn't it and enough fluffy content in my profile is fine | happy new year everyone. | Not reviewed anymore will be

for my love: @mrsgrwy

Maybe this new feeling you were sharing, maybe a few months ago it would have been impossible for both of you to imagine this kind of situation, for Aemond relationships were just fleeting and quick things, none were made to last if truth be told, he remembers very few relationships that he opened up fully, in fact none, he doesn't remember any moments like this one.

After you finished the short dinner that your beloved silver prince as you like to call him, you watched the fireworks announcing a new year, you yourself felt your heart wanting to burst out of your mouth, the way he held you close to his chest, how you could smell his woody scent, you have told him several times how much you love his perfume, how it impregnates you, it made you snuggle more, always wanting to feel more of him, to have more of him, to know his smell, his touch, everything, you always knew how emotional constipated he was, how much he deprives himself of feeling feelings, so you always appreciated and desired them like never before.

When his hands tightened firmly, on your waist, you looked up, your attention from the fires totally diverted, if you ever paid attention to it, his eye were so, so beautiful, yes his family had a unique coloration, but his were different, they stirred you, you always caressed the part where one of his orbs was missing, under his eyelids there was nothing, he still hadn't told you how he lost it, you would wait, but still, you wanted to show him how much you loved him, always.

His grip only intensified, you tried to read the man of few words in front of you, and it wasn't very difficult, his other hand guided your face closer to his, your lips touched, expecting another of his chaste and shy kisses, but this time being graced with a somewhat overwhelming kiss, the way he pulled you closer to him, the way he touched your face, how his lips conveyed how hungry he was for you and you responded in every way, the way his hands rested on your waist, and you let him guide you to his room, even though he was only paying attention to you, it seemed he knew the way with the palm of his hand and had already memorized it.

That was one of the things you loved about Aemond, the way he quickly memorized and mastered something, he knew where everything was, where it all fit together, your furniture, your thoughts, your beauty, your body, he seemed to read you so well, like a reader reading that book he has read a thousand times but never gets tired of, he has already memorized every word, every act, how he behaves, the best way to give you pleasure, he would read it a thousand times, and never get tired.

He laid you gently on his bed, he was always attentive, no matter what others said he was, with you, he always made you feel like a princess, or better a queen, you were wearing a dress although quite provocative, you didn't know but always felt this need the need to provoke him, something he liked and hated, he opened your legs, with a certain vehemence, the way his eye never broke contact with you, pulling your dress up, he had perhaps his favorite sight, you were so wet so ready, so his, even under your panties, he already had the brief sensation of what it was like to have you, and it made him anxious, but this wasn't just one night, though he didn't like the new year very much, this was your night, your first night of the new year with him.

So he wasted no time in removing the piece of cloth that hid everything he most wanted to see, everything he most wanted to touch and experience, you as he sank between your legs, turning his attention away from your face, he could hear your sigh, always so eager for him, he first took a firm grip on both of your thighs mostly to hold you in place Aemond was never a man to waste time, and you didn't think he would be now, taking you with nothing but his lips and his tongue.

Sucking and licking your clit voraciously, making you a moaning mess, even though you tried to move your thighs, and on impulse push him away, his fingers always keeping you in the position he wanted, sometimes he would stop and lightly bite your thighs or kiss you he couldn't decide, he wanted you to come in his mouth, he wanted everything you could give him, and he was willing to make you come right there.

You grabbed his hair with a slight force, not enough to hurt but to make it totally messy, it was always so perfect, you wanted to make it a mess just like he was making you.

When one of his hands let go of one of your thighs you leaned over slightly, wanting to see his face, and if you weren't already out of breath, the image of a totally disheveled Aemond eating you, while one of his hands is pleasuring himself, the sighs he let out, in his femininity of pleasure, the way he increased the speed of his hand, he was close, and you weren't far away, you stopped quickly pulling your hair.

- I want you to come inside me, Aemond. - you were panting, and you sincerely missed his mouth and the rush could be felt in his voice.

Aemond didn't say anything, he just climbed on top of you like a good predator, positioning himself at your entrance, usually quite uncomfortable and difficult to take, gripping your shoulders tightly, your nails forced into his skin, while he moaned low, a lewd kiss was shared between you, especially when he reached the maximum of you, his strokes that started out slowly, increased sporadically.

One of his hands used the bed for support and the other gripped your hips tightly painfully but at the same time, it was pleasurable, you didn't understand, this should be so uncomfortable, but it seems the deeper the harder he went inside you, the more pleasure you felt, once again the feeling of climax arose inside you, you grabbed his face, as you both shared long kisses, Aemond kissed you so fiercely, you deepened your kiss even more, and just parted for breath.

Your peak came without warning, you let go of his lips, and from your lips came a loud, tired moan, closing your eyes with pleasure, Aemond didn't take long to come, the way you seemed to squeeze him in his climax, he moaned too, a rare, audible moan, hiding your face, in his neck, you spent a while in that position, him inside you, where all your seed was taken by your beloved.

He only lay comfortably beside you, when he could feel his arm giving way, you settled down beside him, where your face rested on his neck, his heart beat almost as fast as yours, you stroked him lightly, and when he himself pulled you closer.

Silence reigned for a while, you thought you were going to break it, but as you felt his fingers on your hand, pulling your chin up so that you could make contact.

- Happy new year my beloved... Know that you mean so much to me...as you can't even imagine I alone....

It was hard, he showed it in his eyes, it was so hard to define the feelings you drew from him, that he saw as insignificant all his life but with you it seemed right and perfect.

- I know very well... I feel the same way, and you just make not only this, but all my days better, I love you so much, and you don't have to say it to me if you're not ready, because I know you do, and I love you for showing it every day, in your own way.

He let out a smile, and his eyes, even though he didn't want to admit it, were a little emotional, damn it, you were the only one, you cellared the year with the silent promise that it would never be the last.

[strongsassysexysloane]

What You Deserve

Sum: Things get complicated when a case turns into a weekend away. Alcohol is consumed and flirtatious comments leads to...

⚠️ - Sex is mentioned, alcohol consumption, drinking, teasing.. nothing too salacious... yet.

It was always a shame that when you got a case in such a beautiful city, you never got to see the nice side of it. Especially when the hotel was actually decent for a change with a wonderful swimming pool. The team had wrapped up the case quicker than usual and the hotel had the rooms booked for another few days, the only problem was the Agency. They were always the problem.

“What is the point of having our own private jet if we can’t keep it for a few more days and enjoy a well deserved weekend off?” You’d been trying to reason with the higher ups for almost an hour now. Emily tried first, company money and time, they insisted and then you tried. You didn’t have enough pull as Emily did but you were more persistent.

Annoyingly so.

‘We need the jet back in-‘

“Why? It is this team’s personal jet. Who needs it back, when we are all here? We would be using the same amount of fuel..”

Emily was on her third tequila sunrise watching you with amusement. The others had dispersed around the bar, dancing or chatting with the locals. She had hung back to keep you under control but that was before she started drinking half an hour ago.

There was no more arguing with you.

‘It has been over an hour. I don’t know the time where you are, but I want to go home. Have the jet for two more days, fine. You can explain it on the budget next month.’

You smirked and Emily was shocked. “Oh I don’t have to deal with the budget, thanks.” And you hung up, much to Emily’s now new frustration.

“What about the bud-get?!” She was the one having to fill out those reports and give lengthy reasonings about where and why they used their budget.

You shrugged, “This will be put up for questioning next budget review I guess.” Your amusement growing more and more as Emily’s dwindled.

“Those meetings are already hell… This better be worth it.” She grumbled, sipping her drink.

“Just think –“ You paused, she glared at you over the glass. “- Or don’t, that works too.” You held up your hands and backed away, heading for the bar.

You informed the team that you’d secured the weekend for everyone to stay at the hotel. Only issue was you were bunked with Emily for another two nights. That wasn’t really a big issue. There were thankfully two beds to your saving grace but still being in a confined space with her for long periods of time was testing your will power. Not to mention her short sleep shorts.

Usually you managed to bunk with Reid or JJ but this time they got their own rooms and Emily made the call to take one for the team… Meaning bunking with you. Much to everyone’s amusement bar your own. Night one was fine, you were too tired to care. Now you were on night five and alcohol was involved, your will powerful was absolutely drained and Emily was drunk.

When you made it back to the table Emily and JJ were sitting at, you could see more empty glasses which meant she was onto her fifth cocktail.

“Think it’s time to cut you off.” You laughed at her instant frown. “Ok, stand up without swaying and hop on one leg.”

She instantly got up but JJ held on, her hand gripping her shoulder for balance. “This isn’t fair.”

You laughed watching her struggle to lift one foot even with JJ helping her. “Sit down Em.” You sighed, shaking your head.

.. >< ..

The night carried on. To Emily’s delight you didn’t cut her off which was your mistake. Now you were the one helping her walk back to the room. Her feet tripping over themselves which made it extremely difficult to walk let alone stand.

“You’re such a light weight.” You chuckled as she stumbled and leant more on you. “Jesus.” Her arm wrapping around your waist for a second to gain balance.

“Hey. Girls gotta let loose - once in a while.” She hiccupped and regained some balance, removing her hand from your waist.

Thankfully, you reached the room and got her inside and onto the bed. Her drunken smile watching you move around room. The heavy lifting was over, although now you had the task of helping her out of her clothes before she passed out. You handed her a glass of water and she drank it. Your mind going a million miles an hour, you weren’t far off being drunk yourself.

“You’re good at this.” She mumbled, giggled when your fingers tickled the bottom of her feet taking off her shoes. “Not asking permission before you undress me…” She quirked an eyebrow with a smirk. Even wasted Emily could pull off that look.

The thoughts running through your head weren’t innocent when she looked at you like that from this position on your knees in front of her. “Please, I’d be far more seductive undressing you if sex was on the table.” Your eyes slammed closed, and you wanted to hit your head against a brick wall.

“Who said it wasn’t.” She snickered. Not at all regretting flirting with you when you looked like this.

This woman was going to be the death of you. “Do you want help or not?” You looked up at her, legs hanging off the end of the bed where you plopped her, hair a mess, shirt twisted but somehow, she was still the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

“Is sex on the table if I say yes or no?”

“Emily.” You warned and she sighed.

“You’re no fun when drunk. Yes, can I please have help, don’t think I can stand up without it.” She laughed, attempting to stand up but she couldn’t get the momentum. “Nope.”

“Here.” You grabbed her hand and with a bit of momentum on her part, you managed to stand her up. Her hand fell from yours and rested on your waist. “Don’t.” Her hand didn’t listen, it went on exploring and snuck under your top. It took all your will power not to moan at the touch.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t-“ Something must’ve clicked in her drunken brain because she instantly retracted her hand from your skin. She shook her head, trying to shake away the thoughts, the alcohol was melting away her walls and rules.

“Hey,-“ You were soft, your hand coming up to cup her cheek and draw her eyes back to you. “Let me help you, then I’ll get you another glass of water and tuck you in.” You threw in a wink and a smile to calm her beating heart and it worked. It didn’t help your racing heart after her touch and how she was looking at you, but she needed help right now and your feelings took a back seat for now.

There was a quick nod and you proceeded to unbutton her shirt and take it off then you helped her undo her trousers. Nothing was said between you, both of you silent and breathy controlling your impure thoughts. You’d never get the image of her in her underwear out of your head and you didn’t want to.

She sat back down on the bed and curled up under the covers.

“I’ll be right back.” You brushed her hair out of her face and swore you heard her purr at the touch.

The bathroom was a saving grace, you took a minute to settle your nerves. Undressing Emily took all your will power, touching her skin was intoxicating and you worked quick as not to wonder. She didn’t seem to mind but then in her state she did put sex on the table. You shook your head and filled up a glass of water for her.

She passed out almost right away after you tucked her in. You made sure she drank the water before falling asleep then you got ready for bed. It was late so sleep came easy but your dreams had you squirming.

The sun didn’t wake you but the sound of someone puking did. Your eyes flickered open and there it was again. Last night quickly came back to you and you shot out of bed. “Em!”

“Don’t come in here!” She quickly flicked the door and it slammed shut in your face.

“Come on. I can hold your hair up at least.”

“No!” She yelled before throwing up again. “Why didn’t you stop me from drinking?!” She coughed and flushed the toilet. Her head hadn’t felt this bad since her late teen years.

You shook your head and leant back against the wall. “Oh gee, like I could stop you, I suggested it five drinks in. You had other ideas.” There was the tap and you heard her brushing her teeth so you walked back to bed. “You’re cut off from drinking for the rest of the weekend though.” You grumbled and flopped back into bed, your head wasn’t feeling that great either.

“Excuse me?” Her hands were on her hips as your rolled over to look. “Did you suddenly become miss boss over night?”

“Fine, drink. Go sleep in Morgan’s room, he might take you up on the sex offer you so readily gave out to me last night.” Your words did the exact thing they intended, she blanched.

Her hands fell from her sides, one came up to cradle her forehead. “I didn’t... did I? You’re screwing with me, right?”

“Pretty sure you were the one wanting to be screwed...” You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation and before coffee too.

She walked over to your bed. “I’m sorry I di- I’m sorry.”

The fact that she stopped herself from retracting the statement had you perplexed, and you rolled over onto your side. Thankfully you had the sheet pulled up over your waist because her hand came out and rested on your hip.

“Thank you for being my saviour.” Her thumb rubbed circles over the sheet.

“Always, now is sex still on the table or is that just a drunk Emily thing?” You got a shove for that and you both laughed. “Drunk Emily. Got it.” Two could play at the teasing game.

She shook her head and walked back over to her bed. “You’re something else.” Her back was to you so she could hide the massive blush all over her face. “Might rest up a bit before showing my face at breakfast.”

“It’s only early, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you before breakfast is over.”

You set your alarm to wake you both up later, thankfully, because you drifted back into your dreams. Dreams where Emily made good on her drunken wishes. The beeping woke you up before it got really good, and you groaned.

An amused Emily was perched on her elbow looking at you. “Good dream?”

Her amused smirk gave away that she’d woken up before the alarm and heard you in your sleep. The blush started to heat up your cheeks. “Might’ve been.” You sheepishly looked away from her daring gaze and hopped out of bed. “Breakfast time.”

“Oh, I took the liberty of ordering us room service, I hope you don’t mind.”

You just shrugged, yawning as you walked to the bathroom and away from her inquisitive gaze.

“Got time for a quickie if you get back in bed.”

You almost walked into the bathroom door at her words.

She must’ve heard the oomph sound because you could hear her laugh before she clarified. “A quick nap.”

“Yeah sure, that’s what you meant.” Sexually frustrated you was beginning to show, “You had your chance.” You said as you turned on the tap and splashed your face, trying to wake up quicker.

There was shuffling from the room. “Was thinking after breakfast we could go down to the pool. Morgan texted and said him and JJ were hitting the bar later –“

“No bar!”

She chuckled, “Oh there will be bar but no tequila, I think I’ve finally learnt my lesson with that one.” She watched you as you padded around the room, looking anywhere but at her. The fact that she’d woken up at the first alarm you’d set but quickly hit snooze and stayed awake to hear you moan her name had her legs twitching. Plus, the memories from last night were flooding back, the look you gave her had her wishing she hadn’t been that intoxicated and followed through.

You grabbed your clothes for the day, opting to put your bikini on underneath to save time later. As you were getting changed and thinking of anything to get your mind of Emily in bed, the room service arrived. It smelt amazing. Emily was perched at the small table with two plates of everything you could want from the buffet.

“This looks amazing.”

“I’m hoping it’ll settle my raging hangover.” She chomped on a hashbrown.

Breakfast was spent in silence, both of you were too hungry to carry any further banter. Although you could feel her eyes on you. A text notification broke the silence and it was Penelope wondering where you two were. They were already pool side. Another text came through and it was of Morgan sipping a drink in the pool. If you were straight that would be a site to see but it did nothing for you.

“Guess I better slip into something for the pool.” She winked as she hopped up from the table.

You prayed she had her back turned before the blush tinged your face as your brain was going ballistic with images of Emily in a bikini although your brain didn’t need to imagine for too long.

A few minutes later she walked out of the bathroom in just a red bikini and the beach towel wrapped around her waist. Why was it always red?

“You coming?”

You realised you had been staring for far too long and she had a very amused smirk on her face. “Be right down.” You needed a moment to cool off but even that wouldn’t happen.

She was in the pool by the time you got down and sat beside Penelope. “I think I need a drink.” You grumbled to an amused Garcia. Your eyes hadn’t left Emily’s body as she ducked underwater.

“Morgan, get Y/N a strong drink!” She shouted from her seat over to Morgan at the bar. He just smirked in response and relayed your order to the bartender. “Best way to cure a hangover, keep drinking.”

Before you could get the relief of alcohol, Emily popped up at the pools edge. “Don’t make me get out and pull you in.”

Your brain went fuzzy before Penelope shoved your shoulder. “Go. She’ll make us both wet.”

You wanted to punch the cute blonde for that remark but thankfully Morgan handed you your drink before anyone could do anything.

“Don’t think I wont push you in with a drink in hand.”

“Come on, shes practically begging you. If only I got that sort of attention from-“

“Hey!” Garcia shoved Morgan.

“Sorry baby girl.” He grinned and kissed her forehead.

You took a long swig of your drink and stood up, unwrapping the towel from around your waist. It took all your will power to avoid Emily’s eyes as you walked up to the pool. You could feel her eyes on you as you walked around and found the steps.

Was it to delay the process and for her to check you out? Absolutely.

You had no idea where this confidence was coming from but you held onto it, diving under the water and going up the opposite end to where she was.

“She’s playing dirty. I knew I liked her.” Morgan chuckled and got a raised eyebrow from Emily. “Oh, she’s all yours. I know better.” He smirked, watching Emily swim towards you. “This could be trouble."

Pen just grinned. “They deserve each other.”

They laughed and continued to not so subtly watch this play out. “I’m so glad we got the weekend off.” Derek smirked.

. . . . . . . . .

Let me know what you think, unsure how quickly updates will come. Most of it is written just needs to be edited. I dislike editing so comments and positivity will help ;)