#a background plot is put in motion

[bonchobrick]

So I’ve seen some posts going around about a ‘Bruce adopts Danny and everyone thinks they’ll finally have a normal family member—Danny is very not normal’ and here’s my late night take on it.

Or

Danny batfam au where they batfam tries really hard to keep their vigilante ass-kicking nightlife a secret from danny because he is ‘the only normal one in the family’ this becomes a problem however when danny gets kidnapped.

——-

The batfam all work together in a deeply serious family meeting to save their boy. After hours of combining their brains together they come up with a plan that will effectively save danny from joker, kick joker’s ass, and also make them look really cool while doing it.

So they bust in that warehouse, guns blazing, explosions fading in the background, a gust of dramatic dust covers the air

Batman steps infront of the rest of the team and demands to the blurry figure somewhere in the distance, “Where is Danny!”

The dust clears–they expect bad guys pointing weapons meancingly at them, they expect a cackle of a wicked clown amused at whatever plot he had planned coming to life, they expected a terrified boy perhaps tied somewhere likely siting in a chair that joker could present to the bats as a way of taunting them.

The dust settles–they observed their surroundings looking around and realize that, there are few new facts to be added into this ‘defeat the villain, get the bro, happy ending equation’

There is decidedly no weapons being pointed at them: In fact, all of the henchmen are already knocked out and tied up.

There is decidedly no evil laughs being echoed their way: In fact, the only noise that isnt coming from them is a light scritch scratch of a pencil

And there is decidedly no terrified little boy, there is a Danny however and he seems to be doing alright–actually scratch that.

Danny is doing wonders for the situation he’s in right now: In fact–

–Danny is sitting criss cross applesauce on-top a knocked out tied up Joker doing his algebra homework

The small blue eyed boy looks up at Batman's voice and visibly brightens, “Oh hey guys, I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Jason says with the utmost of comprehension, “...what.”

“So hi, I’m kinda new to gotham so sorry about beating these guys up, I think they’re villains? I dunno, anyways if you could take care of these guys while I call an uber home that’d be great.”

Danny sends them a blinding smile which would've been adorable if there weren’t a massive pile of bodies he were casually walking away from.

As Danny nears the exit he looks over his shoulder to the baffled group of vigilantes and blinks

“Oh yeah one last thing,” Danny rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Could you guys not tell the Waynes about this.”

Damian speaks up for the rest of his frozen family, albeit hesitantly, “I do think they have already been alerted of your kidnapping.”

“Oh no that's fine.” Danny starts nervously, “It's more about me being the… fighter… in this situation. I was just adopted by them and they seem really nice, I don’t want to scare them away being all grrrr im a scary monster boy and i love to hurt people argh.”

“I don’t think they’d think you're a monster.” Tim adds quietly

“Eh, tell that to my birth parents–they went psycho on me. Like evil scientist psycho, it was not as awesome as the movies make it sound, having scientists for parents.” Danny says bittersweet as he admits with a shrug

There is a moment of silence as the batfamily reevaluate the adoption file that states Danny’s family before they passed were very good people–albeit a bit excentric.

Dick blurts out, “Where did you learn to fight?”

Danny sends him an anxious chuckle, “I actually started when I was fourteen–my town always ran into some trouble so I had to step up. It’s part of the reason I moved here actually. I really don’t want anything to do with that hero vigilante life anymore…” The boy puts his hands together in a pleading motion, “So please don’t tell The Waynes!”

Bewildered at the situation as a whole they nod in a daze

The boys eyes widen at their easy agreement and he grins, “Thank you so so much! I’ve got to go now, it’s way past my curfew. but you’ll probably see me again next time I get kidnapped–I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you guys with my family bye!”

And just like that Danny slips off into the night leaving behind a family who were so sure they finally found a normal addition to their pack.

Jason sighs looking forlornly at the spot Danny had previously been standing, “You could just never pick the just semi-mentally healthy normal kids could you?”

Bruce groans pinching his the bridge of his nose

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Narrative Arc

Narrative arc - also called a “story arc,” a “dramatic arc,” or just an “arc”.

It is a literary term for the path a story follows.

It provides a backbone by providing a clear beginning, middle, and end of the story.

Freytag's Pyramid

The concept of narrative arc as we know it today was created by Gustav Freytag, a German novelist and playwright who closely analyzed ancient Greek writing, along with William Shakespeare’s five-act plays.

As the term suggests, when plotted on paper, a typical narrative arc forms the shape of a hill or pyramid.

5 Classic Elements of a Narrative Arc

A traditional narrative arc has five elements, in the following order:

Exposition. This is the reader’s introduction to the story. The exposition offers background information to prime the audience for the rest of the story, including introducing the main character(s) (the “who”), setting (the “where”), and circumstances or time period (the “when”).

Rising action. This is when conflict begins to ramp up. The rising action usually begins with what’s called an “inciting incident”—the triggering event that puts the main events of the story in motion. This is when the audience starts to see what your story is really about.

Climax. This is the highest point of tension in your storyline, and often the point at which all the different subplots and characters converge. Typically, the climax requires the main character to face the truth or make an important choice.

Falling action. This is what happens as a result of the protagonist’s decision. During the falling action, the conflict gives way to resolution. Loose ends are tied up, and tension begins to dissipate.

Resolution. Also known as a denouement, this is how your story ends. The resolution of a narrative arc isn’t always happy, but it does close the loop and show how the events of the story have changed the characters and the world around them.

Narrative Arc vs. Plot

Plot - the individual events that make up your story. In other words, the plot is what happens.

Narrative arc - the path or sequence of your plot, and how that series of events creates a flow and progression that keeps the reader engaged at each stage in the story.

Narrative Arc vs. Character Arc

If a narrative arc is the path of the overall story,

a character arc is the path a specific character takes during that story.

The story arc is external, and happens to all of the characters,

while a character arc is internal, and happens to one person.

A character arc usually involves a character overcoming an obstacle and changing the way they see the world.

When the narrative arc begins its descent down the pyramid into the falling action and resolution, the character arc has its moment to shine.

This is when a character experiences a turning point by asking for help, learning a new skill, making a critical choice, and/or becoming more self-aware.

Typically, only major characters have character arcs, though minor characters can undergo this type of character development as well.

Create a Narrative Arc in 4 Easy Steps

Here are some writing tips for building a narrative arc in your own writing:

Choose an archetypal narrative arc. Think about the story you want to tell. Is the main character overcoming an obstacle? Going on a quest? Experiencing a rebirth? You don’t have to follow any one example to the letter, but writing with an archetypal narrative arc in mind can be a huge help.

Identify your beginning, middle, and end. Who are the main characters? What are they doing? When are they doing it? Where are they doing it? Why are they doing it? And, most importantly: What is all of that building toward?

Plug your events into a narrative arc. Creating a visual diagram of your chosen narrative arc, then add the events of your story along that arc. Seeing a quick overview of your story on a page makes it easier to identify problems and fill any gaps. For instance, if you have a lot of events clustered in your “exposition” stage, you may want to cut some of them out or reimagine them as new developments in the rising action.

Adjust as needed. Of course, there’s no hard and fast rule that you have to stick to Freytag’s traditional narrative arc. Every story is different: some are heavier on exposition, while others draw out the rising action. Give yourself the freedom to be flexible and see where your unique story goes.

The next time you sit down to write, consider drawing up a quick narrative arc. It’s a useful tool that can help you stay on track if you’re ever unsure of what comes next in your story.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding ⚜ Exposition

[milf-murdock]

Safety First

(AKA: The one where Simon views “the law” as a relative term when it comes to your safety)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Reader 

Summary: After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it. Warnings: potential break-in scenario described, protective Simon to the rescue, use of a firearm, descriptive use of firearm, smut (I promise there is a plot here though it just….devolved into smut because I have no self control), P in V, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex, sliiiiiiight breeding kink, praise kink (really exposed myself with the number of “good girls” here👀), no mask Simon because civilian life, mate 😌  A/N: I had a lot of fun with this. It just seems so very “Simon” to me. He would have exactly 1 (one) incident where he gets scared shitless that something has happened to you, and he would pull every last goddamn string necessary to get your trained up on a handgun to make sure you can defend yourself always, even when he’s not there. Personal firearms are very much illegal in the UK but you can’t tell me the 141 boys aren’t packing at home. Simon Riley?? Leaving weapons behind?? Be so fucking for real.

Your grip on the shopping falters, nearly dropping the heavy container of milk. Your body freezes as you take in the sight before you, immediately on high alert. The front door stands ajar.

Someone’s broke in, your anxieties speak for themself. Images flash in your mind at a rapid pace, escalating in concern: men ransacking through your things, hiding out, waiting for you, strong foreign hands on your body—your shaking hands have your boyfriend’s number dialed before your imagination dares to unfold any further. You drop the shop bags on the floor, backing away from the door and down the hall of your complex.

“Hey—“ the deep  familiar baritone is immediately cut off by your sobs. 

“Si-Simon?” You choke out his name between your gasping breaths. You try to steel yourself, but the tears have already started.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Simon’s voice instantly hardens, shifting to one of action. 

The tears are relentless now, and you try to force them at bay to respond. 

“Answer me, love, are you hurt?” Simon’s voice raises ever so slightly in pitch. 

“N-not hurt,” you gasp out. “It’s my flat. The door’s open. I know I locked it—at least I think I locked it, I went to the shop, I needed more milk, remember? I was only out for a bit—“

“Breathe, babe. Breathe.” You can hear the jingle of keys in the background of the call. “Listen to me very carefully, love. You turn around right now and get back in your car. Lock the doors. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right there.” 

You sniff, thankful the tears seem to have finally subsided. You’re already put slightly more at ease knowing Simon is on his way. “Okay,” your voice waivers. “I can do that.” 

“‘Course you can. Now stay on the line with me until you get to your car.” You hear his car door slam in the background. 

__________________

Simon turns the 20 minute drive to 7. 

His sharp tap on your window startles you, sending your heart racing once again. 

“Stay ‘ere, love. Be right back.” Simon’s voice is muffled through the window, but you nod in response. 

Simon makes his way up the stairs to your flat, pulling his concealed weapon to his side and subtly shifting the safety off. The heavy weight of the cold metal is familiar as he cocks the weapon, preparing for a sweep. The motion is as natural as breathing for him. He gently toes open the door, immediately pulling his weapon at attention as he scans the room for threats. “Clear” Simon thinks to himself. Some habits are too deeply engrained. 

He makes his way through your flat, thoroughly checking for anything amiss. Once he’s satisfied that everything looks clear, he disarms the weapon, clearing the loaded round from the chamber and clicking the safety back on. The gun gets tucked back safely against his body, concealed from sight as he makes his way back out to your car. 

Simon gives you a brief nod, signaling all was clear. At that sign, you fling the car door open and throw yourself out of the car, instinctually trusting those strong arms to catch you. 

The moment your face is buried in the broad expanse of his chest, his familiar scent hitting you like a freight train, the tears well up once more. 

“S-sorry, I was just so freaked out,” you stutter, unsure if Simon could even understand you with your face pressed against him, but unwilling to untangle yourself even a bit. 

“Shh, it’s alright swee’art,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. “I scoped out the whole place. It’s clean.” 

He could feel the relief in your body as you took in his words. 

“You sure you locked the place up, babe?” Simon treads lightly, not wanting to upset you further. “It didn’t look like anybody had been in. Could’ve just been a draft knocking the door open if it wasn’t shut and lcked properly.” 

You pulled your head back from Simon’s chest, fumbling with the edge of your jumper to gently wipe the tears and snot from your face, sniffling. 

“I’m sure I locked it.” You pause for a moment. Well, at least you think you’re sure. You think back to when you left your flat, hands juggling your keys, your purse, distracted by your neighbor and his adorably fluffy Pomeranian who were leaving at the same time. Mr. Darcy immediately demanded your attention, of course, and who were you to deny him all the fluff-filled pets his heart desired? Embarrassment curdles in your stomach, a heat creeping up into your cheeks. 

“Well, maybe not absolutely sure…” you correct yourself. “I think I did, but Mr. Darcy was out, and I got distracted, and I just needed some milk for my tea, and I—“ 

Simon took you back in his arms, cutting off your monologue. “Ahh, Mr. Darcy, you said?” He knows your fondness for the small Pomeranian well, especially after the last time you dog sat for them and insisted Simon make friends with the blasted pup. “That would explain it.” 

“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” you sigh, shame replacing the fear. “I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“Oi-“ Simon is quick to cut you off. His strong hand grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You did the exact right thing. Any time something feels off, got a bad feeling from some bloke at the pub, walking out by yourself in the dark, I don’t care what it is or when it is—you call me. Understood?” 

“Understood.” You sniffle once more. 

“Let’s get back inside and get you that cuppa,” Simon soothes, one hand pressed to the small of your back as he guides you back inside your flat. He stops to grab the forgotten shop bags off the floor with one hand. 

__________________

You two are getting ready for bed, having convinced Simon to spend the night—not that it took much convincing. Simon watches as you parade around the bedroom in one of his oversized t-shirts, toothbrush in your mouth as you walked around getting ready for bed. It’s in these little moments he realizes how truly in deep he is. He’d give his left fucking arm to have this view daily. 

“Thanks for coming to my rescue today,” you quip, exiting the bathroom and sliding into bed next to him. “And for agreeing to stay the night.”

“‘Course, love.” Simon opens his arm and lets you get into your designated spot, head on his chest, leg tangled over his, hand resting on his stomach. “Woulda probably stayed the night anyways.” 

“Yeah, but still…” you let out a sigh as you settle in, curving your body against his. The warmth of his body heat warms your chilled frame. 

“I was so scared.” Your voice is a whisper in the dark. “I just kept imagining the worst possible scenario. What if I was home? Alone? And someone did break in? What if you weren’t here? What if you were overseas?” Your breath hitches and your heart rate picks up again. Simon resumes rubbing soothing circles across your back. 

“I just felt so helpless. So defenseless.” 

“You’re okay.” His voice was low, steady. “Everything worked out okay. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.” 

Between the repetitive soothing motion of Simon’s strong hand against your back and the steady rhythm of Simon’s heartbeat, sleep soon found you despite your fears. 

As your breaths evened out, Simon’s own mind starts swirling with dark thoughts. The what if’s find purchase in his brain and he subconsciously pulls your sleeping form even closer to him.  

You were right, of course. He couldn’t always be here. He had to find some way to make sure you could take care of yourself, to make sure you could defend yourself. He had to know you were always taken care of, no matter where he was. 

Of course he had already walked you through the basics of self defense. You had a decent right hook, and he more than appreciated the opportunity to teach you a few other moves that had the two of you sprawled on the floor of your sitting room, sofa pushed up against the wall to create enough space. If his memory served him correctly, that particular little sparring session had resulted in an entirely different from of…wrestling.

But none of it was enough to put his mind at ease. Simon knows that if someone truly meant to do you harm, someone from his line of work…all the moves in the world wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t want you getting close enough for that kind of combat anyways.There was only one thing that could make him feel even a modicum of peace. 

Simon was going to teach you to shoot. 

______________

That weekend, Simon woke you up bright and early, claiming to have a surprise date for you. 

“Oooh, what is it?” You’re nearly bouncing with excitement in the kitchen chair as Simon hands you your breakfast. 

“If I told you, wouldn’t be much of a surprise, now would it?” 

“Fair point,” you mumble around a mouth full of toast. 

“Let’s just say it’ll make us both feel better.” Simon takes a sip from his mug. 

__________________

You gazed out the window, the rising sun casting the military base in a warm glow. Simon had never brought you here before, had always hidden this part of his life away from you. You try to drink in as much detail as you can, driven by curiosity at this mysterious part of his life. 

Simon pulls the car as close to the shooting range as he could. Despite the base being mostly deserted this weekend, he was still taking every precaution necessary to ensure he was limiting your exposure to this area of his life as much as he could. 

With the car parked, Simon makes his way to your side of the car, his large, protective form shielding you from any prying eyes. He feels particularly exposed without his mask, but it’s a short walk to the range and he trusts that Price has held up his end of the bargain to keep this particular area abandoned this morning. His hand finds its way to the small of your back and guides you inside the range. 

The smell of gunpowder immediately filled your nostrils. There was always a lingering scent on Simon when he came home, but nothing quite as affronting as this. 

As promised, the range was completely cleared out, and Simon made a mental note to personally thank Price for his help. 

“What’re we doing here, Si?” Your voice piqued with curiosity. 

“Well, we’re teaching you how to shoot, o’ course.” 

“But why? It’s not like I’d ever have access to anything like that. S’not legal.” 

“About that.” Simon made his way to an area of the range that housed the standard weapons that were available for practice. He trusted that Price followed through on one other crucial part of this deal. 

Sure enough, a small compact handgun was nestled amongst the other array of firearms. 

Simon grabbed it, testing its weight in his hand before making his way back to you. 

“Listen to me very carefully, love,” his tone shifted, dripping with sincerity, and a touch of his natural commanding energy. 

You immediately sober up, looking at him with your full attention as if to show how good a listener you were. 

“This is for emergencies only. It stays hidden always. No one knows you have this. No one knows this even exists. It’s very important you understand that.” 

“But how did you—? Should I even—?”

“Mm-no questions. Just—“ Simon lets out an exasperated sigh. 

“Just trust me. I need to make sure you’re safe. ‘Specially after that little scare earlier this week.” 

You nod your head solemnly. “I understand, Si.” 

“Good. Then let’s get after it.” 

He guides you over to a stall and places your gun on the countertop as you assess your surroundings. There’s five lanes in this section of the range, each separated by stalls with an open range ahead. You can make out five faux targets at the end of the lane, but they seem impossibly far. Surely no-one can actually make that shot, you think to yourself. You’re pulled from your thoughts as Ghost steps up to you and places a pair of bulky earmuffs over your head. “These’ll help protect your ears while we practice,” he says as he adjusts them to fit snugly against your ears. 

“Don’t you need some?” Your voice is raised to compensate for your dulled auditory senses. 

Simon chuckles in response. “I’ll be alright. M’used to it.” 

“Now go pick it up,” he gestures towards the gun. “Safety’s on so don’t worry. It won’t bite.” 

Reality sinks in as you step forward and reach for the weapon. It’s lighter than you expected, but there’s a heftiness there that doesn’t have anything to do with the weight of the object itself. You test the feel of it in your hand, mimicking what you’ve seen in movies. 

“Good,” Ghost murmurs, stepping up behind you. He’s close enough now that you can feel him pressing up against your back. Two strong arms encase your frame as he leans forward and places his hands over yours. His large hands manage to make the weapon, and your hands, look even smaller. “Hold it like this.” He adjusts your grip just slightly. “Atta girl.” 

His thumb guides your own along the edge of the handle until you reach a firm button on the side. “Here’s the safety. You can tell it’s on when this red button is sticking out. See that, yeah?” 

You nod your head but it’s taking every ounce of energy you have to focus on his words and not the feeling of Simon’s hard body pressed against your back, his hot breath sending a chill down your neck, and the look of his large hands dwarfing your own—

“Oi. Pay attention. This is important.” 

You mentally scold yourself and refocus, adjusting your grip. “Okay, so the safety’s on?”

“Yes. Press it in to turn it off.”  You do as he says, the click instantly elevating your senses. Did the gun get heavier? 

“Now, pull back the top like this to,” he motions pulling back the barrel. “That’ll load the bullet into the chamber. It should already have a round in there, but we’ll get you some more ammo before we leave. Go ahead, cock it.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. “Cock it, eh?” You turn your head to waggle your eyebrows at him. 

“Behave,” Simon warns, turning your chin to face forward. 

It takes more power than you expected to pull the barrel back, but the reaffirming click lets you know that something did indeed happen inside. 

“Alright, she’s loaded now.” 

“Okay…” you hesitate, waiting for further instructions. “Now what?”

“Now you point and shoot.” 

“At what?”

“See that fella at the end there? Aim for his head.” Simon gestures to the paper dummy hanging at the end of the alley. 

“All the way down there? There’s no way anybody could hit that!” You protest. 

Simon sighs, resigned, and flicks a small toggle on the countertop, triggering the electric pulley system that pulls the paper dummy closer to you, stopping it about halfway down the track. 

“Better?” 

“Only one way to find out,” you mutter, adjusting your position and taking aim. 

With a centering inhale, you close one eye, aim as best you can, and pull the trigger. 

The shot rings out louder than you thought possible, even with the ear protection. The force of the shot thrusts you backwards into Simon’s sturdy frame. Gun powder fills your nostrils even stronger than before. Your heart races as you look ahead to see…

You’ve miss the target completely. 

 “S’alright, love, wasn’t too terrible for your first shot,” Simon consoles. 

“Here, move your foot,” he gently taps the inside of your foot with his toes, and you spread into a wider stance. “Good, now straighten up those shoulders. Don’t worry about cocking it yet, let’s get the position right.” 

You do as he says, pulling the gun up once more to eye level. 

“Give your elbows a bit more bend. You want to hold it tight, but be loose enough for the recoil so it won’t knock you on your arse.”

“How’s that?” You ask, loosening your shoulders and relaxing your arms just slightly. 

“Looks good to me. Go ahead and cock ‘er.” 

You pull the barrel once more and ready yourself to take another shot. 

“Deep breathe,” Simon reminds you. “Now I want you to keep both eyes open, and look at where you’re directing your shot. You want to aim just slightly above your target. Gravity will pull the bullet down a bit from this distance.” 

You try your best to keep all these factors in your mind as you take your aim. 

A deep inhale and you brace yourself as you pull the trigger. 

This time you have a better idea of what to expect, and you move your upper body with the recoil, feeling more stable.  

“Did I do it? Did I hit it?” The excitement radiates in your voice as you eagerly lean over the table to get a better look. 

Simon can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, so at odds with what he usually sees in this environment. “Let’s take a look,” he says as he presses the toggle and the motorized target moves closer. As it gets within range you see a clear, definitive hole in his upper right chest. “I got him!” You exclaim, jumping up and down. 

“Easy there, love,” Simon scolds halfheartedly as he leans over you and clicks the safety into place. 

You set the gun on the counter and turn to throw your hands around Simon’s neck, laughing. “I did it, Si!” 

You laughter is contagious and Simon’s own chuckle is music to your ears as his strong arms lift you up on your tiptoes. “Yeah, you sure did, babe.” 

And then his lips are on yours, his kiss hot and passionate, setting your body ablaze. He deepens the kiss for a final moment before setting you back on your feet and pulling away, leaving you breathless. 

“Damn,” the curse falls from your lips as you try to catch your breath, feeling just a tad lightheaded. 

“Right,” Simon clears his throat, trying to get the run of himself once more. He not-so-subtly adjusts his trousers bringing a satisfying smirk to your lips before turning you back around. 

“Let’s get some more practice in.” His voice is resolute, but the bulging erection currently pressing into your backside says differently as he sends the target back to the middle of the range. 

You pick up the gun once more, already feeling more comfortable with it, and adjust your stance to set up for another shot. Simon reaches up and corrects your aim just slightly, and you take the opportunity to lean back into him, ass rubbing against his hardened cock.

“I said behave,” Simon groans aloud, but you can feel his hips thrust ever so slightly in response. 

You fire off another shot, reloading and firing two more times. The thrill of each shot sends a jolt of electricity through you. You feel in control. Not helpless. Not defenseless. No, you feel…powerful. 

Simon swears his cock couldn’t get any harder. He had brought you here with the express purpose of teaching you to defend yourself when he wasn’t there. How could he possibly have anticipated just how fucking turned on he’d get watching you fire that weapon. 

Your confidence grows with each shot, your stance already self-assured. You look like a badass. And right now, it is taking every last goddamn bit of strength and willpower for Simon to stop himself from taking you right then and there. 

Finally, the gun gives a satisfying click, signifying the end of your rounds.  

“Phew,” you exhale with a chuckle. “That was an absolute thrill.” Clicking the safety back in place, you set the gun down and turn to face Simon. 

The wide smile on your face, bright as the morning sun, it takes his breath away. He can’t hold back a second longer. His lips crash against yours, large hands settling on your hips, pushing you back against the countertop. He doesn’t dare break the kiss as his meaty hands slide down to your ass, squeezing the supple flesh before lifting you up with a grunt to set you on the countertop. 

“Si!” Your exclamations drown in another breath-stealing kiss as Simon slots himself between your legs. 

Simon bites back a groan as he grinds his erection against your core, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

Deft fingers undo the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up, allowing him to pull down your trousers and knickers in one swoop. 

You let out a hiss as the cool countertop meets your bare ass, but the sensation is lost among more exciting sensations as Simon gets on his knees before you. Thank god for his height—even with you seated on the countertop he’s at the perfect height. 

“Bloody perfection,” Simon eyes your bare cunt, eyes full of wanton need. 

His comment brings heat to your cheek, intensified by his playful nips and kisses placed along your inner thighs. 

He kisses higher and higher, exciting you with every soft kiss, before skipping right over where you truly need him, moving to the other thigh. 

You let out an exasperated groan. “Quit teasing, Si.” 

His brown eyes shoot to yours, giving you a look—how dare you order him around. He has half a mind to punish you right here and now, but the scent of your dripping cunt hits his nose and his mouth waters on instinct. He places one more kiss to your thigh before acquiescing and a moving to your core. 

Words escape you as he laps at your heat, eating like a man starved. Fingers tangle in his dark blonde locks, hips rising off the cool countertop to meet him. 

Simon’s strong hands slide up your legs, gripping your hips and forcing you back down on the counter, tongue driving deeper between your folds, relishing in your gasps of pleasure. 

His tongue slides up your sweet folds, savoring every drop, until he reaches your puffy clit. This is when Simon slows it down, takes his time. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending shivers up your spine. He continues teasing you like this, your legs shaking until you’re not sure how much more you can take. 

His eyes are wide open, locked on your squirming form. While shooting that firearm gave you a sense of power, this is what gives Simon his sense of power—watching you come undone by him, his tongue, his actions alone sending you into this frenzied state. His right hand slides from your hip to your inner thigh before sliding inside you. He curls his fingers expertly, hitting that spongey spot inside you, making you see stars. He takes your clit into his moth, suckling at the swollen nub, fingers fucking you hard, preparing you for his cock. He releases your clit with an audible pop, his voice breathy and low. 

“You’re gonna come for me right now. Just like this. On my fingers. Understood?” 

You’re past caring. You’re past words. But somehow you manage out a breathy “Yes, yes, Si, just let me— I’m gonna—“ his tongue is back on your clit and his fingers hitting that spot just so and you’re toppling over the edge, body going rigid. Simon’s tongue is incessant, lapping up every drop of juice that spills from your sweet cunt, prolonging your orgasm with every nip and suckle until you’re bucking up against him. 

“Too sensitive, Si,” you mumble, lost in the haze of your orgasm. 

“That’s just how I like you swee’heart.” Simon stands up and undoes his belt, freeing his cock from its restraints. You crack your eyes open to see him wrap a fist around his cock, giving his member a few rough tugs, rolling back the skin to expose the deep red shade at the tip of his cock, already leaking precum. You bite your bottom lip as you let out a moan. 

“Now you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” Simon smirks down on you, making eye contact as his fist slides languidly up and down his cock. 

You nod fervently. 

“Good girl, just what I like to hear.” With that, he notches his cock at your opening, looking to you for one final nod of approval before he starts inching inside. 

You gasp at the intrusion, but Simon’s groans are nearly pained. 

“Fucking hell, babe, you’re so fucking tight.” 

You can only whimper in response, still lost in the post-orgasm bliss. 

“Shit,” Simon mutters under his breath. “Gotta relax, love,” he presses one hand against your abdomen. “Relax for me. You can take it. I know you can.” 

Simon’s mumbles even more praises, each good girl blurring into one another, lulling you, relaxing you. With a final grunt, Simon thrusts in to the hilt, filling you completely. 

“That’s my fucking girl,” Simon growls, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back into you. “Ya always take me so well, so fucking well.” 

His thrusts are deep, steady, his thick arms holding your body in place while his hips drive home. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, punctuated by your moans, and Simon swears he’s never been so thankful for Price’s little favors in his entire goddamn life. 

“Si…” you cry out, already feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach. Simon is already two steps ahead of you—he recognizes that tell-tale tightening of your cunt, that change in pitch as your breathy moans increase. Simon slides one hand from your hip down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles. 

“C’mon sweet girl, my good, sweet girl,” Simon’s hips move faster, cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he teeters on the edge. “Gonna come all over this fat fucking cock, yeah? Gonna let me fill you with every last drop of me, huh?” Simon’s words bordered on nonsense at this point, lost in the haze of pleasure. 

“Need it, Si,” you gasp. “Need to—gonna—can I—“

“Yes,” Simon growls low. It sends you over the edge, your entire body goes rigid as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

“That’s my girl, good girl,” Simon coos, working you through your orgasm. His thumb doesn’t leave your puffy clit until your body is jerking against him, overstimulated and worn out. 

“You’re such a good girl coming undone for me, love,” Simon murmurs, pressing a kiss to your damp temple. 

You’re barely floating back to reality, but you know he hasn’t finished yet. “Need you, Si,” you moan. “Need you to fill me up…please?” You’re downright pitiful about it, but Simon swears it makes him cock even harder. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Simon adjusts your hips in both holds, holding you steady as he pounds into your swollen pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling back. “Not gonna last long like this.” Simon loses all sense of rhythm as he pounds into you with abandon, searching for his end. “Fuck, I’m coming—“ Simon finishes with a growl, hips giving one final hard thrust before his warm seed start to flood you. Simon holds you close as he finishes, panting hard, forehead pressed to yours. 

You reflexively tighten your core, causing Simon to inhale sharply, beyond sensitive. 

“Fuck,” Simon curses, his breath still coming in pants as he tries to slow his heart rate. “You’re bloody perfect.” 

You chuckle in response, flushed from the thrill and excitement. “You’re just saying that because it turns out I’m a decent shot.” 

Simon smiles softly before nuzzling his head in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. 

“Something like that, love.”

[helluvapoison]

Lucifer x Imp!Reader

warnings: imp bigotry, heavy topics, lowkey angsty (happy end, i swear)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Secret relationship, baby!

• Let’s get into the hard part first, shall we? The discrimination of Imps isn’t something Lucifer set into motion. They helped him build Hell into what it is today—! Which is… flawed. Fuck, there’s no excuse. Know that he doesn’t condone it and he’s ashamed to admit he allowed it get this far

• That saying “history repeats itself”? Yeah, Hell isn’t immune

• It’s an elephant in the room situation when your and Lucifer’s feelings come into play. Along with the enormous power imbalance. He would never take advantage of that, by the way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there

• Those issues are in the beginning though. Yes, it takes a lot of time and many painful conversations but now? Undoubtedly worth it

• Lucifer is quite proud of himself for the charade he concocted. You pose as his employee! No one would question it and you could hang around as much as you like! It’s perfect, right?

• “It sounds like a shitty romcom plot.” You snort

Lucifer’s smile is unwavering, eyebrows high on his face as he awaits what he longs to hear.

“But?”

Sighing, you softly return his smile, “It’s perfect.”

• And like a shitty romcom, it is

• Naturally, there’s ups and downs

• For Lucifer, the worst is that he hates keeping you a secret. It’s not that he wants to dish it live with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, he’s rather private as is, he’s just so— happy! He wants to show how proud he is to be yours! Unfortunately, that would do more harm for all of Hell. Selfish as his wants might be, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if it meant putting you in danger

• Occasionally he takes you to meetings and events. You try and slip into the background, supporting him from the shadows. Even from the other side of the room, Lucifer’s eyes will find you standing amongst the other Imps. He accidentally ends up ignoring whoever’s trying to rub elbows with the King of Hell

• (Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has found you two out yet. His longing gazes are far from subtle)

• Sometimes those outings don’t end well. A blue blooded dickbag might’ve dumped their drink on you or shoved you because you were “in the way” or berated you in front of everyone. Lucifer sees red and the entire event is cut short via a demonic rage. On a positive note, his publicity goes off the charts! “King of Hell defends his people, no matter the race!”

• (A motherfucking miracle, I tell you)

• Lucifer likes to take care of you when those incidents occur. He feels guilty. For everything. Reassuring him has always easy for you in any other situation. This one just bleeds into something personal. A failure

• So, you let him take care of you. It improves his mood bit by bit. Could be pancakes! No matter the time of day, Lucifer’s go-to are pancakes. (He’ll simply die all over again if you let him feed you too) Could be a bath for the two of you to share, he loves washing you and putting a bubble beard on your face

• Sleepovers can be a tad difficult to pull off but no one disturbs him in the mornings. He loves having you in his arms all night long. Kissing your horns, forehead, eyes, nose and lips— yes, in that order— before wishing you only the sweetest dreams

• Lucifer has a rubber duck that looks uncannily like you sitting on his desk at all times

• Oh! And despite being an Imp, you’re still taller than your beloved short king. It’s slight but he adores the difference

♡ a/n: if i had a nickel for every time a blue blood fell in love with an imp, i’d have /three nickels HAHAHA

[userlando]

fill her veins — lando norris

lando norris x fem!reader [3.5k] summary: your friend’d had you in all the different ways. fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. lazy, slow and deep. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, friends with benefits, porn without plot, lazy sex, unprotected (piv) a/n: to the anon that dropped this concept in my ask box, I hope you don’t mind that I took the idea and ran with it. I have so many drafts to finish but this just wouldn’t leave my mind. consider this as a thank you for all the amazing love you’ve poured me with lately, I love you guys so much!! lmk what you think of this!

Lando has an odd taste for trashy reality tv shows. He claims that he doesn’t, that he usually puts them on for background noise but he always ends up settling down on the nearest flattest surface; Eyes glued to the screen. It’s funny, it’s not something you’d expect and most of all, you don’t really mind it. Because he doesn’t care if you don’t pay any attention to it, as long as you’re either in his lap or spooning him.

He’d texted you earlier tonight and you hadn’t expected it, not really. You figured that after the long weekend in Belgium, he’d be ready to travel where the wind took him without any worry about the next weekend where he’d have to show off his best side and bring home a win for his team. Lando had talked about the Maldives and even Singapore, hinting at you coming with him but you’d been quick to shut him down, claiming that your life couldn’t be put on hold. Because it couldn’t.

But he’d gone home, spending exactly three hours with Max before the fucker abandoned him to hang out with his girlfriend and Lando was bored out of his mind when the flat got too quiet, so quiet that he could hear the neighbours flushing their toilets. Then you’d sent him a funny video of cats and Lando had responded with an ‘are you home?’ after laughing himself silly to the video.

That was three hours ago, he’d pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek when you’d opened the door for him, sniffing the air because he could clearly smell the bolognese that you’d made, giving you a look that you recognised so intimately. You’d seen the pleading look plenty of times in various situations, and now it was saying ‘can I please have whatever’s cooking in the kitchen?’ And who were you to deny him?

Lando had shovelled a plate and a half of spaghetti, moaning over how good it was and completely ignoring your rolling eyes of fond exasperation and a little shyness, and then the both of you had settled on your sofa on top of each other with Love Island playing in the background.

You were dozing, half conscious and absolutely not interested in what was going on, but Lando? Lando was enraptured, eyes shining with interest in the dark when you tilted your head up to look at him. The glow of the television cast pretty shadows on his face, the long eyelashes and the beard he’d decided to grow out on his upper lip and chin. It looked good on him. And better yet, it felt good on your sensitive skin. There had been too many times to count where he’d rub it raw and sore, between your legs so you couldn’t wear dresses and skirts in fear of your thighs rubbing together, or your face when he kissed you as deeply as he did.

You still remembered the time when you’d put on an excessive amount of lipbalm after a night of heavy petting, catching Max’s raised eyebrows across the table. He didn’t say anything, but he might as well could have with how expressive his eyes and face were. It was unnerving.

Lando sensed you shifting on his chest, peering down at you with his bushy eyebrows pulled together. It was dark, the television the only provider of light but you saw the confusion clear as day in his eyes as they flitted across your face, trying to gauge your facial expression.

“What?” He asked, hands halting where they’d been stroking up and down your back subconsciously. You immediately missed the soothing motion of them, having gotten quite used to the impromptu back massage.

“Nothin’.” You murmured, laying your head back down with your ear pressed to his chest.

The steady beat of his heart was like music to your ears, lulling you to a slow sleep that you could almost see on the horizon and Lando wasn’t making it any easier to stay awake with the way his hands were gently scratching your back with his blunt fingernails over your shirt. He knew you loved it, did it as often as he could.

You let out a pleased little hum when his hands found their way under your shirt, fingertips mapping out the bumps of your spine. Up, up, up, and then he stopped with a small noise in his throat.

It made you hide a smile into his hoodie, knowing exactly where his mind was going when his fingers travelled to either side of your back; Right where your bra strap would’ve went, if you were wearing one.

Lando clearly seemed pleased with his new discovery, heart thudding just a little harder under your ear as he shifted beneath you. You sucked in a quiet breath, looking up at him just in time for him to stare back.

“No bra, eh?” His lips pulled into a slow, playful smile that had you smiling, tongue in cheek. “Cheeky.”

“I never wear one around the house, twat.” You pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He nodded, tightening his arms around you to force you upwards on his chest, putting you face to face. “Hi.”

He blinked up at you, slowly, like sleep was on the doorstep and knocking. Lando looked tired but there was an underlying layer of lust in his eyes that you’d come to recognise. It never failed to send a thrill up your spine and it was what prompted you to close the small distance between the two of you, noses brushing against each other as he exhaled teasingly.

“Lando…” You frowned as you went to kiss him, only for him to pull away.

It didn’t escape you how whiny you sounded, but you hadn’t gotten laid in almost two weeks and he’d been sending you very suggestive photos and texts when he was away.

Never mind that you’d started it, firing off a photo with no additional text of your tits, knowing that he was most likely in a briefing with his team and there was a major chance that someone nearby would see the photo over his shoulder if he’d open it up without any warning.

But you didn’t care. It’s what made it fun, after all. Especially when he’d sent a series of exclamation and question marks, cursing you out for doing it so publicly.

“You’re so impatient, darling.” He tsked you, nipping your lower lip when you pushed forward in hopes of him kissing you.

You pouted until his face broke out into a smile, bringing a hand up to the back of your head; Fingers sliding into your hair for a grip as he finally pushed his lips against yours.

It was slow and chaste at first, a kiss to your upper lip before he sucked on the lower one, relishing in the stuttered exhale you released into his mouth. There was no denying that Lando was a good fucking kisser, ever so patient and passionate and it was only made evident when he pried your lips apart to taste your tongue. His hand spanned against your cheek, thumbing your chin to keep your mouth open as he licked into it. You could taste the faint spices of the food he’d had earlier, along with the sweetness of the bag of Squashies you kept in your pantry, only because he liked them. It was a heady mix.

You couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t erotic, that it didn’t make your toes curl and your spine tingle with all kinds of emotions when his tongue slid against yours so sensually. He truly took his time, loving on your lip and kissing you so thoroughly that you were out of breath and a little dazed by the time he pulled away. He thumbed your lower lip, his own smiling and pink, bitten raw.

Lando allowed the both of you a few seconds to catch your breaths, immediately going for another round but this time he dove straight in, kissing you deeply. It was when the both of you started to let out these breathy little moans against each other’s mouths and grinding slowly that Lando took action, sliding his other hand that had been idle on your back, down your spine and slipping into your shorts.

He felt the curve of your ass, his palm swallowing up your cheek as he grabbed it in a painfully delicious grip that had you grinding down against him, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your lips dropped open, moaning into his mouth when you felt his hardness press against your crotch. It relieved a little pressure off of you, but there was no denying that you were soaking and in need of more. More of Lando, more of his touch.

“Fuck, I love this arse.” He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth when his hand tightened on the flesh of your cheek, fingers no doubt bruising the skin. It felt amazing. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

You made a noise of protest against his cheek, where you’d been pressing your face against it, hands cupping his cheek.

“No,” you murmured against his mouth before kissing him. “No tasting, just need you inside me.”

Lando nodded gently, reaching a hand down to your shorts in a practiced motion to run his fingers gently between your folds. His eyes left yours to look at your crotch, jaw going slack at the wetness he found there and you whimpered when his wet finger touched your clit, circling it until you were squirming.

“Need you.” You murmured against his ear, pressing your face to the side of his and nudging your nose against his cheek.

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to because he was already slipping a finger into you; a second one joining him soon after. Lando stretched you out, feeling your warm breath against his cheek and hearing your poorly concealed moans of pleasure as he worked you, sounding a lot like heaven to his ears. He crooked his fingers and fucked you gently, thumb notching against your swollen bud just to hear your breathing pick up.

It was a telltale sign that you were close, hands clutching at his hoodie, right over his chest and it made his head dizzy how your legs were locking up around his hips the closer you got. He turned his head to find your lips, messily slotting them over your mouth and swallowing your high pitched groans as you came around his fingers.

Your body shook, hands flexing in their tight grip of his hoodie and Lando marvelled at the sighs and sounds you were making, letting you trap his bottom lip to suck on it. That one gesture made every ounce of blood rush to his cock, so fast that he almost went dizzy with it and he hurriedly pulled his fingers out of your tight clench, sliding his fingers into his mouth for a quick taste of your juices.

You made a small sound of protest, feeling boneless and too tired to chastise him for making such a show of it. He loved making you come on his fingers, loved it even more when he could suck the slick off of his digits because you’d always squeak in embarrassment and swat at him with your hands.

It took a lot of effort to adjust yourself on top of him, reaching your weak arms down between the two of you to pull at his shorts. Lando wasn’t much of a help, watching silently as you yanked his shorts down far enough to get his cock out. It was rigid, sticking up so lewdly and flushed pink and you licked your lips; craving to get your mouth on it.

But you were too tired, and Lando was clearly way too impatient to wait any longer as he pulled your shorts and underwear to the side, grabbing himself by the base to guide himself to your centre. You bit your lip, anticipating the burning stretch but he didn’t push in, sliding his length between your lips to slick himself up instead.

You opened your mouth to tell him to get on with it but the words died on your tongue along with your last brain cell when the head of his cock nudged your clit, making you shudder at the unexpected sensitivity.

“Fucking hell,” Lando cursed in a murmur, sounding dazed and not at all there.

Your eyes flickered up to him just in time to witness as he brought his other hand to his mouth, dribbling saliva onto the length of his fingers and bringing it back down to stroke his cock. It was lewd, so disgustingly hot and you had to have him right now.

Lando must’ve felt the same because he was finally moving, notching himself against your hole and waiting for your wordless consent that contained of a quick nod and a needy sound, before he raised his hips and pushed himself into you.

You responded with a keening sound, pushing your hips down and taking way more of him in the process than you were ready for. It burned, stretched to the limit with only spit and slick to help you take him, but you both had worked with less before.

And Lando knew how to read your body, knew that your fisted hands meant for him to pause, to breathe and let you get used to his size. It never got easier, there was so much thickness to him that could simultaneously bring so much pleasure, but also pain if you weren’t too careful.

A sadistic part of you loved it though. You loved feeling him for days after a good lay, would often rile him up to the point that he’d bend you over and fuck you silly.

Your skin still tingled when you thought of the early days of your arrangement, where you’d been at his place late at night. You’d played Call of Duty and gotten him so worked up that he shoved you down on the sofa, ass up and face down, pulling a bone shattering orgasm from you with the help of his sinful mouth before he fucked you so hard that you were drooling and muffling your moans into the cushions. It was a worthless effort though, Max had heard you and he’d made it clear during breakfast the next day.

“You good?” He asked, touching your chin with his thumb and you blinked, realising that you’d drifted someplace else completely.

You nodded slowly, holding his gaze as he pulled back and thrust forward, rattling your bones and pulling a moan from your lips. Your fingers ran through the hairs on the back of his head, pulling his face close to yours as he started fucking you slowly, reaching so deeply inside of you that the sensations made your eyes flutter and roll.

Lando had a hard time keeping his eyes open and on you, watching your mouth gap open and closed in unintelligible words and sharp gasps, eyelids fluttering shut. He kissed you when you started moving your hips against his, adjusting your positions so you were fully straddling him. It must’ve done something for you because you were suddenly pulling at his hair, his head going back with it and mouth going slack around a groan.

It put your mouth in level with his throat, thick and exposed, so pretty that you couldn’t help but suck bruises into the vulnerable skin.

You moved against each other, fucking slowly like you had all the time in the world, kissing and bruising each other up with the help of your hands and mouths.

Your friend’d had you in all different ways. Fast and hard, deep and bone rattling but this was his favourite. Lazy, slow and deep. Where he could feel every tight and warm crevice of you, feel you slicking him up the wetter you got.

Lando’s breaths grew deeper, groans becoming more guttural and you knew he was close to his climax; riding him just a bit harder to help him get there.

He slid both hands around your hips, slipping into your shorts and grabbing your cheeks in bruising handfuls with a moan; Needy and whimpering against your mouth and you kissed him harder in response.

His fingers slipped between your ass cheeks, and the slight touch to your hole took you by surprise, your body suddenly seizing up as you cried out your sudden climax. It was like the breath had been punched out of you, coming so hard on his cock that Lando had to stop the movements of his hips because the tightness became too restrictive.

The both of you grabbed at each other, mouth to mouth, stealing each others breath as Lando fucked up once, twice before he released a guttural moan; shooting off into you.

You could feel him inside, feeling all too sensitive and absolutely exhausted from your orgasm to do anything but take it. Lando was giving off these small moans, gasping like he couldn’t breathe properly and it was only when he started shuddering from oversensitivity that you attempted to get off of him.

He slid out easily, cock wet as you dripped with him and it was such a filthy sight that you couldn’t help but flush warmth all over.

You knew that you’d have to get up eventually and shower, feeling disgusting and entirely too warm to stay wrapped in each other. But Lando wasn’t ready to let you go yet, and neither were you, to be honest. You let him wrap you up in his arms, nuzzling his face into your throat and exhaling tiredly.

“That was exactly what I needed.” He murmured hoarsely into your throat.

You hid a smile into his damp curls, cupping the side of his face and bringing his head up to face you. He blinked, squinting eyes and blown out pupils, and you thought that he’d never looked as good as he did now. So relaxed with no worry in the world.

It was hard to refrain from kissing him, pushing small kisses to his cheeks and one to his lips that he tiredly responded too. It was like it took way too much energy to move his lips, and it made you smile when he whined.

“Can you carry me to bed?” He asked and you reached your fingers up to pinch the tip of his nose.

“Absolutely not.” You wiggled on top of him, pulling a strangled sigh from his lips. “We need a wash first, and you’ve got a lot of work to do.”

That made him crack an eye open to stare at you in confusion.

“Work?” He frowned.

“You came in me, you’ll get it out.” You said, like it was obvious.

Lando’s eyes narrowed, “You’re the one who likes it.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

His hand came down on your ass cheek, the slap hard enough to make you jump with a yelp. You glared at him with no real malice, ignoring the spike of heat that the unexpected pain sent up your spine because now was not the time to delve deeper into your interests of pain.

“You didn’t have to.” He said, matching your defiant tone of voice now. “Your body said it all, baby.”

You faked a gag, moving to roll off of him and he let you go without any fight.

“You’re gross. Get out of my flat.”

Lando cackled, making a poor attempt at sitting up on the sofa. You watched him struggle for moment, trying not to smile in amusement at the way his hair was all messy, curls wild and unruly.

“I’ll help you out,” He said and you knew there was a catch coming, judging by the tone of his voice. “If I can go down on you.”

You grimaced, as if the thought of him licking you clean didn’t make you clench. It wasn’t really a normal occurrence, but it did happen on rare occasions. Lando was a lot filthier in bed than you’d originally thought, and discovering his kinks had been an adventure so far.

“Oh, fine.” You sighed with a flourish, like you were doing him a favour rather than the opposite. “But you have to wash my hair first.”

You had your back turned to him now, walking in the direction of your bathroom but you could almost hear Lando’s exasperated eye roll, making you a hide a smile as you pushed the bathroom door open.

“Blow me.” He muttered.

“Maybe I will.” You teased.

Lando gave you no time to turn around, crowding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso to bring you flush against him. The sharpness of his teeth on your shoulder made you squeal with a giggle, squirming in his hold but he was too strong.

“Come on then,” He pressed his face to the side of your neck and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Get your ass in there, I want to get my mouth on you before you start dripping.”

You’d never moved faster than you did.

[asha-mage]

BingLiuShen au where Shen Qingqiu's fevered heteronormativity poisoned brain decides that the best way to avoid dying for the crime of being a heterosexual male in a stallion novel is to pretend not to be heterosexual and thus not a threat to the protagonist's harem. He figures if he can hit that sweet spot where his (supposed! Not real at all!) sexuality is just a quirk of the beloved mentor then the narrative will have no choice but to keep him alive. Airplane might be a hack, but he's exactly the sort of hack who would put in a token gay character, then shunt them off to the background, only to be trotted out again when he's getting flack in the comments for sexist, homophobic, and/or generally shitty writing decisions.

And for Shen Yuan, whose stated life goal is to idle away the hours in luxury and occasionally bask in Binghe's protagonisty coolness (in a very heterosexual way of course!) that would be the perfect out. There's just one problem- how does he demonstrate his (definitely fake!) homosexuality without playing into homophobic tropes and getting himself killed for offending the genre's aggressively het sensibilities?

The answer? Pretend to be pinning away silently in unrequited love for another man. It's perfect! All he has to do is drop a few extremely subtle hints in Binghe's hearing implying having feelings he would never act on for say, Liu Qingge, and he'll be golden. After all, what person attracted to men (which he isn't!) wouldn't fall immediately in love with the Bai Zhan War God? It has the added benefit of proving what a good Token Gay he is by the fact that he saved Liu Qingge's life without any expectations or hopes and without ever even revealing his (supposed!) feelings.

Shen Qingqiu gets about a week of feeling like a genius after putting this plot into motion before Liu Qingge starts showing up at Qing Jing with small gifts and pastries and asking to spar, and well. In between melting down (because how on earth did he put it together from the grand total of three entirely ambiguous hints he dropped!) and trying to stay composed (because even the straightest guy- which he is!- would get flustered by having Liu Qingge smiling at him Like That) he figures the only rational thing to do is just Commit To the Bit, resign himself to one day becoming cultivation partners with Liu Qingge and retiring together into the background of future plot shenanigans. Their are clearly no other possible ways of dealing with this situation, and hey being with Liu Qingge of all people isn't bad. That's a fan favorite character and he's stupidly handsome and brave and kind! Shen Qingqiu could do a lot worse, especially in a world like PIDW. In fact given the alternatives, Shen Qingqiu's could probably consider himself incredibly lucky. Objectively that is. From a purely 'guy trying to survive this dumb novel' point of view. It would be an honor to have Liu Qingge's arms wrapped around him. If he where into men of course.

Meanwhile you have Luo Binghe in the background of every scene the two are in with a forced smile, internally speed running the '*fork in garbage disposal noises*' to 'I just want my Shizun to be happy! I swear!' to 'actually Liu-shishu is really nice I can see what Shizun sees in him' to 'oh no I think I want to be in the Middle Of Whatever That Is' arc.

(And of course, Binghe at the end of the day IS the protagonist, and after much trial and tribulation, is supposed to get exactly what he wants...)

And all the while you have Liu Qingge, utterly oblivious to the mental anguish and gymnastics of his shidi and shizi, who just keeps turning up at Qing Jing, because he really does like Shen Qingqiu and even if that first date was his sister's idea he's found he really does enjoy spending time with Shen Qingqiu, and also Shen Qingqiu's sticky first disciple who despite the crocodile tears is actually clearly pretty strong. He has no idea that Shen Qingqiu is silently picking out drapery for the future house while Luo Binghe tries to rationalize his out of control heartbeat as a completely normal side effect of the sparring match they just fought (Which he only keeps challenging Liu-shishu to make sure he's strong enough to protect Shizun! He swears!).

WIll the three of them ever figure it out and get their act together? Sure. Will they do it before the Conference/Abyss arc upends everything? Absolutely not.

[lunarsturniolo]

No Strings Attached | FBW!Matt

Matt lets out a groan, “You can’t do that and expect me to not want to kiss you.”

“Do what?” 

“Lick your lips,” he leans in again, this time slowly, “This okay?”

I close my eyes, parting my lips, “Yeah, more than okay.”

or

Established Friends With Benefits with Matt

Warnings: Heavy make-out session, gabbing and spanking readers ass, tits are out lol

Masterlist

“Can you turn the fan on? It’s hot in here,” I ask Matt. 

I’m sitting on his floor as he puts a movie on his TV. He’s sitting in a chair directly behind me, his right hand reaching down and lightly massaging my scalp and his left hand navigating to Netflix. 

“You wanna take your hoodie off?” He asks a slight smirk on his face. 

I smile and roll my eyes, “I guess,” I sigh. I move forward, creating some room to move. I tug at my hoodie, pulling it off in a swift motion, revealing a loose tank top. 

I can hear Matt let out a slight groan of appreciation- he remembers my top. It’s his favorite. 

The loose, pink tank hits right above my stomach and often has trouble staying up above my tits. It shifts easily and results in a couple of unintentional flashes. Naturally, I wear it braless when I go over to Matt’s. 

Matt lets out a loud breath, “I’m gonna get in bed.” 

“Okay,” I reply, not moving, “Sounds like a plan.” 

He looks at me with an amused look on his face, “Okay. You comin’?”

Finally, I roll my eyes and look up at him. He’s standing directly in front of me now; a hand reached out to help me up, “Yeah, I’ll come.” 

I put my hand in his, and he tugs me up to my full height. I smile at him and briefly look down at his lips. He smiles at me and leans in for a peck, “You’re cute,” he compliments. 

Matt’s hand reaches around me. It traces my spine before settling before my ass. I can feel him hesitating to move his hand any lower, “You can grab my ass,” I remind him. 

He blushes slightly, dropping his hand and kneading at the top of my ass before spinning the both of us towards his bed, “Can’t get distracted this time,” he reminds me, “Gotta be locked in. This movie’s kinda confusing.” 

“No way Inception is that confusing,” I say, giving Matt a bored look. 

He shrugs before lying down, his arm outstretched. I follow suit, lying down, cushioning my head with his arm. His other hand reaches around my body, meeting my hand and intertwining our fingers. 

We settle in a comfortable silence, the movie playing softly in the background, but all I can focus on is the calming feeling of Matt’s chest rising against my back. His hand squeezes mine every so often to remind me that he’s still there, and that’s enough to distract me from the plot of the film. 

I wiggle my hand out of his and readjust my body so his outstretched arm is wrapped around my front, entangling me in a hug, “I couldn’t see,” I complain. 

Matt lets out a giggle, “You’re smooth.” 

I laugh lightly in response, only to feel Matt’s hand come out from around me. He tugs on my shoulder, flipping me onto my back before straddling my hips, “I’m pretty smooth, too,” he says before leaning in to leave a chaste kiss on my lips. 

I lick my lips in a feat of nervousness, “Yeah,” I agree. 

Matt lets out a groan, “You can’t do that and expect me to not want to kiss you.”

“Do what?” 

“Lick your lips,” he leans in again, this time slowly, “This okay?”

I close my eyes, parting my lips, “Yeah, more than okay.”

Matt smiles before finally connecting his lips with mine. His tongue pokes feverishly at my slightly parted lips, gently prying them open. I allow him to press his weight onto me, slowly grinding my hips into his. 

Matt lets out a groan of appreciation before flipping us over, “Your turn,” he smirks. 

I smile, flipping my hair to my shoulder, “Already getting lazy?” 

“I like being on the bottom.” 

“Liar,” I say, “Don’t think I forgot about last week.”

“That was last week; this week, I want you on top,” Matt retorts, pulling me towards his lips. I hum in approval before giving him a series of slow, sloppy kisses. 

Grinding down on his cock, I can feel him start to get hard, the friction having the same effect on me. Simply put, I was horny. I let out a soft moan into his mouth before detaching my lips from his.

My lips trail a slow, sensual line from the bottom of his ear, across his jawline, and down his neck, stopping just before his collarbone, “You wanna take it off?” I ask.

Matt lets out a grunt, silently asking me to sit back on his lap so he can take his shirt off. He regains height as he sits up and peels his shirt off. My hands wander his torso, making a line from his collarbone down to the waistband of his pants, then back up. 

My mouth finds its way back to his collarbone, sucking and nipping at the tender skin. “Don’t go too harsh,” Matt says, making me back away from the spot. I smile at the sight of his now-red skin. 

Matt takes a look at me before pulling me up to his lips. He bucks his hips into mine, a satisfied groan coming out as his hands wander down to my ass. With a smile growing on his lips, I feel his hand pull back and smack my ass lightly, testing the waters. 

I push my body closer to his, my tits falling out of my top and pressing against his bare chest. One hand keeps a firm grip on my ass as the other trails up my spine into my hair, grabbing onto my head for a bit of control. 

“You need to get on top,” I beg, my breath shallow in anticipation. 

Matt smiles lightly, “I knew you wouldn’t last.” 

“I’m not built for the top.”

Matt hums, “It’s okay I’ll take care of you.” 

I move off him to create some room to move around. He lets me lie down and get comfortable before getting on top of me. He looks deep into my eyes, silently checking in, before he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses down my neck.

His mouth makes its way down my body, spending more time near the top of my breasts. “Can I-” he begins.

“Yeah, go for it,” I reply. 

Matt gently peels my tank lower, letting it rest under my tit, giving my nipple special attention. His hand reaches toward my other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he sucks at the other one. 

“Matt,” I start. 

“Yeah?” 

“We’re gonna have to restart this movie.” 

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Lactation kink aegon? You can add this into any other plot but I just need more of this 😚

aegon x lactation kink has me crying, (s)creaming, throwing up!!!!

Wet Dreams

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x WetNurse!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,661.

WARNINGS: wet nurse references, breastfeeding, mentions of an affair, lactation kink, Daddy kink, degradation kink, female receiving (fingering), breast play, swearing.

A/N - I kind of went feral, this was meant to be a very small blurb... whoops!

Since the royal twin heirs, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, had been born lively to King Aegon, the Second of his Name and his sister-wife, Queen Helaena, the realm had rejoiced in joy and excitement. Gratefully appointed by the Dowager Queen herself, to be a fellow wet nurse for the twins, following the ancestral footsteps of your mother, who nursed Laena and Laenor Velaryon, and your grandmother before who nursed the many royal offspring of the Old King and his Good Queen wife, before being relieved of their duties.

You were quite younger than your predecessors when being anointed as a fellow wet nurse, however, Queen Alicent saw it fit that the younger the woman in the peak of her youthful maidenhood, would in return have the better production of the milk. Trusting that it was naturally in your genes to produce. Not to mention, you would be relative for quite some time to the royal couple, starting off in your young adulthood.

Nonetheless, as the twins grew familiar around your tits, latching on more comfortably, their repetitive suckling motions began to show results. Your tits had swollen abundantly with milk in vast supply, often at times leaking, if they were not in use. You were relieved from the burden, as was the Dowager Queen and her beloved daughter, satisfied with your loyal services... And yet it seemed that you had caught the lurking eyes of the King himself.

From time to time, when Helaena had delivered or called upon for your presence to nurse her newborns, Aegon remained solemnly distant in the background, yet ever so present. Never uttering a word, nor showing an ounce of acknowledgement for the intimate yet crucial service you provided to his children, and yet, his violet eyes would loosely ponder over you. Whenever you meekly entered their chambers, your eyes would inevitably meet in mutual focus, before forcing to resume your undivided attention unto the newborn babes. At one point, he was so drawn to your readiness to provide for his children, mindlessly caught in his own, unfathomable thoughts, that it took his sister-wife to hastily tug on his arm, harshly pulling him away to be drawn back to reality.

Having grown accustomed to his children's feeding times, he knew that you would reliably arrive on time in the early morrow, to feed the babes, whilst their mother and the rest of the royal family would attend their own breakfast feasts.

And he remarkably knew this would be the perfect time to strike...

Just as you faintly swayed and nestled little Jaehaera back into her crib residing with her asleep elder, the sudden knock on the door startled you vividly. As you hastily turned towards the direction of the abrupt sound, so anxious that the children did not stir awake, as your focus reluctantly panned from them still deep in slumber, did you meet the familiar, unnerving gaze of Aegon.

"M-My King, th-the babes have just been fed and put to bed. Queen Helaena is not here, I-I can fetch her for you, i-if you wish-"

Aegon remained dead silent, only taking a few slow paces towards your rigid state in front of the cribs, only inches apart before having the decency to respond.

"I have no need for my sister. Nor do I intend to wake the babes... I am here for one other matter, that is," He lowly uttered, his voice deep yet clear and stern, those formidable violet eyes tainted over you, lingering from head to toe and back.

"Mayhaps, I-I can help you, your Grace," You anxiously stutter: yet a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach began to churn, the feeling gradually extending between your inner thighs, that began to intensely throb, each passing minute the King blessed you with his attention.

"In fact you can... Get on the bed."

His serious tone was cold, you obeyed the command as you obeyed all your previous doings, and yet, this was one that should not have been taken lightly. Glancing at the sleeping babes one last time before the frame of the crib hid their tiny bodies, some comfort was provided knowing they remained peacefully unstirred in a deep slumber. The voice of their father not stirring them awake, even though Aegon spoke an octave above a whisper.

Following you closely behind, you could almost sense him inhaling your natural scent, sensing the fear oozing from your every fibre.

"Lay down," He further instructed, as you continued without hesitation in abiding by your Grace's honour. How could you defy the King? The consequences would have been detrimental, even so, fatal, to your very unimpressive existence...

Making yourself somewhat comfortable, despite the tension in your body from the uneasiness of the situation, Aegon knelt above you, each thigh in level just below your waistline as his knees sturdily supported him, his large hands began to snake their way up towards your body. Heavily breathing, the tight fabric felt suffocating, as you felt the foreign touch of his hands gliding over your body frame, gently tracing over the curves of your waistline, up until it reached your ample bosom.

"Hmm-" As the grazing touch of his soft lips glazed over the skin of your cleavage, you swore you could feel the ripples of his deep growl vibrating over you.

"So these are the fruitful gifts the Gods have blessed you with, that feed my very babes. Fuck, how I have been envious of my own seed-" Aegon lustfully whispered, with each breath taken and word spoken, his eager mouth latched to your skin, suckling leaving a moist trail of his trace over you.

"How they cry for your tits day and night. How they suck on these, taking in your taste with every mouthful. Favouring each swallow... Now it's my turn."

The foreign feeling of Aegon's thick, probing cock pressing down against you, just directly above the clothed entrance of your cunt, sent an exhilarating thrill through the entirety of your body, stemming from between your thighs. You had never truly been with a man before, let alone, your first being with the King himself. Nonetheless, you naturally dismissed all self-control, moaning and whimpering for Aegon's touch and more, your eager sounds brewing, louder in volume.

"Shush, shush, my pretty whore. My babes are fast asleep, perhaps milk drunk from you. We must keep quiet, nonetheless."

Instinctively, despite your mind pathetically trying to fight against the urge, you felt yourself keen for more. Hips lifting forwards, burying his stiff, pulsating cock further down into you. Immediately noticing your advances, you felt Aegon's hand reaching beneath, hastily pulling your gown length up, as his rough fingers sneaked tugging beneath your undergarments, teasing your silky folds.

"It seems someone is needy for their King... Have you been desperate for me, my pretty whore? Want Daddy to spoil you too, huh?"

"Y-Yes-" Breathless and yet inclined, your mind a haze, you shut your eyes closer, as Aegon's fingers delve deeper between your velvet folds, his fingers moving in slow, sensual motions stretching you out.

"My pretty whore, gonna be such a good girl for Daddy, yes? Gonna take good care of me, just like you care for my babes, hmm."

"Y-Yes Daddy."

His low, growling chuckle reverberating from his throat, was soon interrupted, as those violet eyes once more fixated firmly on your bosom, tutting at the sheer sight before him.

"Look at you, so fucking full of that sweet, sweet milk, you are practically leaking through your clothes, angel. Have my babes not drunk their full? Not taking advantage as their father would. Mayhaps, your needy body is producing ample supply for my take now."

His hand that had been eagerly venturing between your innocent walls, sprung free, as he began to unloosen the strings of your gown at front, ripping apart the fabric to expose your sensitive, swollen tits.

The appetising sight, nipples red and raw from feeding his babes, oozing with a white, milky substance that drizzles across your stretched skin. His thumb grazing and flicking over it was enough to make you moan in an agonising excitement, back arching hopelessly sulking for more.

"Look at the fucking mess you have made, and in front of your King. Have you no shame, whore? Need Daddy to make you feel better, want me to ease the pain, hmm? All you need to do is ask with that pretty mouth of yours."

"Uhh- Y-Yes, Daddy. P-Please, I'm s-so fucking full."

A growling groan echoed through his throat, before his mouth keenly opened, latching over one tit, as his hand massaged the flesh of your breast. Alongside his suckling movements with the kneading motions, the milk poured lusciously into his mouth, harsher and hastier than the babes, his mouthful took more, as his breathing hastened, his broad chest heaving deeper.

"Mhmm, hmm-" Once more that same hand found its way impressively down to your wet cunt, shoving his thick digits deeply inside, as he began to pump his hand backwards and forwards, almost in rhythm with each sucking motion. His tongue swirled over your nipple, causing you to convulse and jerk beneath him from the tenderness.

"Fuck, you taste divine... My babes are truly spoiled and will grow healthily with your milk. Now I know why they cry for these ardently-"

"It-It is my duty, your Grace. B-But it is my honour, to f-feed my King w-whenever your Grace n-needs me."

"That's right, whore... At my beckon call now. Perhaps I may fuck some bastards into my pretty whore's cunt, keep her filled so these tits keep swelling with milk, leaking for Daddy to relieve."

The milk dribbling off his soft lips was enough to send you into an oblivion, as his tongue hungrily lapped the substance lingering over, before it could trickle down.

"Y-Yes, Daddy. W-Whatever you see fit."

"Good girl, my good whore... So obedient for Daddy, we are going to have fun, indeed..."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag] - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for divider - @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[mxqdii]

billie and reader baking together?

baking with love - b.e

pairings: billie eilish x reader

summary: billie and reader bake on a rainy day

warning(s): just fluff! and food fights (i think thats the right term) 🙈

not proofread

"i'm so cold" i say, cuddling closer to my girlfriend billie

i look outside, seeing the rain fall onto our bedroom window, my favorite type of weather

"wanna bake cookies? could warm you up and be fun" she suggests and i jump up

"yes! lets do it!"

we walk to the kitchen, getting the ingredients out

we play music in the background, the rain only falling harder and harder

"okay problem, we're one cup short" she says, motioning to the sugar and i laugh

"it's fine lets just hope for the best" i say, taking an egg in my hand and putting it behind my back

"bils" i say, causing her to look over

"hm?" he says, still mixing the batter

"come here" i insist and she walks over

i open my arms out and her eyes light up, hugging me instantly

suddenly, i crack an egg on her head, causing her to gasp

"you did not!" she yells and i laugh hysterically, quickly taking a picture of her in her current state

"i'm sorry im sorry! i had to" i run, seeing her chasing me with a cup of flour

"okay fine.." she says, putting the flour back on the counter

i turn around and feel powder running down my face, looking back at her

"billie!" i yell, seeing flour all over me

she laughs, taking a picture of me as well

"so much for baking cookies" i say and she smiles, pulling the cookies out of the oven

"while you were plotting against me, i had the cookies already in the oven" she explains

"aww i feel bad now" i say, going to hug her, for real this time

'well.. you could make it up to me.." she says and i raise my eyebrow

"we both have to shower anyways right??" she suggests and i connect the dots

"fine we can shower together, lets go" i say

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strnilolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @prettysturniolo @its-jennarose

[capuletoo]

Blushing Fruit -Max Verstappen

-note: Omg, my first fic for f1!! Please bare with me

-summary: A series of events teasing Max

-TW: sex, fingering, smut without plot | Max Verstappen x fem!reader

-words: 1.9k

The sun is hung low, casting a golden light that projects two shadows walking in the vineyard. Max walked in front of you, leading the way. The air smell of ripe grapes and the vineyard rows stretched infront. 

Glass of red wine in your hand, its velvet color symbolized the intensity of the sun in your eyes. The sun shining into the crimson liquid, swirling, your fingers wrapped around the base, caught the eyes of Max as he glanced over his shoulder. The clinking sound of crystal to crystal was soft along the rustling leaves.

Max was entrance by the way you were holding the glass, as if it were to break. The way you took a sip, lips parting and caressing your tongue, it stirred something inside of him. Your eyes met his, but the sun was too bright you had to squint your eyes. 

The sun caressed your exposed skin, a warm sensation left behind, that drew Max´s attention to the subtle sheen of sweat in your collarbone and also looking at your neck while you took small sips of wine. 

You took a hand up to your forehead to shield you from the sun as you moved your head towards a tree with enough shadow for the both of you. 

Your back leaned into the truck of the tree, a strap of your sundress falling down, the moving shadows caused by the leaves painting your hair. Max was holding a whole bottle of wine, which you motioned him to exchange your glass with the bottle which you uncorked, making a pop sound.

You filled Max´s glass and yours while he was holding them, as you poured a drop of wine spilled into your finger. Max´s gaze fixated on the crimson droplet, his fingers twitched, he wanted to catch it, to feel the cool liquid against your skin.

You put down the bottle and grabbed your glass, your eyes following him until it reached the wine droplet. With a smile you held out your wine-stained finger to him, offering the taste of the wine and something more. "Care for a taste?" you asked, your voice soft and inviting.

Max leaned in, capturing your finger in his mouth, savoring both the rich wine and the essence of you. The world around them seemed to fade into the background as this shared moment of desire intensified.

A few seconds went by in silence, your heartbeat in your ears.

“Ew, I was joking you freak”

[...]

The way your lips were faintly wet thanks to the watermelon was just so addicting to Max. He couldn't help but be drawn to the unique, smoky allure that had settled on your skin. 

The smell of soap coming from your skin made him crave your touch. He wanted to run his fingers across your body moles. 

You decided to cut open a watermelon while sitting down comfortably in a beach lounge chair, which was a bad idea after some juice dripped into your thighs and your arms. You were too busy laughing to notice the heat that spread across Max's cheeks. The watermelon juice dripping from your fingers makes his eyes wander. 

“Want some?” Your voice is raspy.

He could only nod, no words coming out of his mouth. Your fingers brushed his as you passed him a slice, which he took a bite out of. The sweet and refreshing taste combined with the saltiness of your skin was intoxicating.

You took a last large bite of the slice you had and got up running towards the ocean. 

Max watched your back as it disappeared into the ocean waves, juicy droplets falling into the sand underneath his chair. 

After a while you came out of the water and stood infront of him. He was wearing his sunglasses. 

He looked at a water droplet that fell from your hair into your stomach, his gaze followed it down, passing besides your belly button all the way down to the waistband of your bottoms. Before his eyes wandered lower he returned to your eyes. He was thankful for putting on his sunglasses. 

Youre biting a slice of watermelon youve mustve grabbed when he was distracted and smiling. “What? I didn't want to have watermelon juice in my legs”

[...]

One night during the summer vacation, Lando decided to host a dinner for the drivers. The warm breeze and the sound of the waves breaking against the shore set the perfect ambiance. 

As you all gathered around the table, laughter and conversation filled the air. The table was decorated with glasses of your favourite champagne that Daniel had bought. He presented it to you with a smile, and you were surprised he even remembered, after months of telling him. The bubbles in your glass reflected in your eyes. 

Max sat across from you, and throughout the dinner, he seemed to be accidentally kicking your feet under the table. At first, you thought it was a simple accident, but as the dinner continued, it was obviously not. His foot brushed against yours, and each time it happened, your heart skipped a beat. The burning sensation was driving you insane and the fact that he would do it while he was in the middle of a conversation, not even glancing at you, is if nothing was happening, it made you crave him. With every caress, you felt a deeper pull, a longing that threatened to consume you. The way Max's leg occasionally rested against yours, the heat of his skin warming yours, was intoxicating.

As dessert was served, Max's foot found its way to yours once again, but this time it was less accidental. His touch was more deliberate, more possessive, and it sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of the connection was undeniable, and you couldn't resist playing along.

His gaze finally met yours, and you decided to be bold. You grabbed your champagne and didnt break eye contact while some of your drink dripped down your chin.

“what are you doing?” Lando looked at you, laughing. Your cheeks turned red as you cleaned the champagne with your hand.

“I got in a trance” You tried to give an explanation, but saying it out loud, made you feel more embarrassed. 

“Jesus” His laughter resonated through the table.

[...]

After embarrassing yourself at Landos you found yourself in your hotel room. The room was dimly lit with the soft glow of a small lamp. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about dinner, the way you completely forgot that other people could watch, but the memory of the subtle touches shared with Max, kept your heart racing.

Two knocks in the door breaked the silence. You opened it slowly, revealing Max standing there, his eyes filled with an intensity that you havent seen. Without a word, he stepped inside, the door closing softly behind him. The dim, intimate light of the room cast enticing shadows on his face, making his features appear all the more alluring. Max took a step closer, his presence filling the room. 

You could still feel his breath, when he made his way to your couch. 

“Whatever you thought of at dinner, you can do it, you know.” He finally sits down. You could only walk up to him, after not finding an answer for him. He extended a hand to you, inviting you to sit down next to him. 

As you sat down, the silky fabric of your dress rustled, drawing his attention to the way it caressed your curves. The low neckline hinted at what lay underneath and he found himself yearning to explore.

The fragrance of your perfume was like a whisper that hung in the air, and it intoxicated Max. The softest sigh of pleasure escaped his lips as he leaned in to breathe in your scent, and his fingers longed to trace the delicate contours of your neck and collarbone.

As Max's hand brushed yours, he felt the warmth and softness of your skin.

“All these glances, all these touches…” His lips were just centimiters away. “I dont think i can hold back”

With a knowing smile, Max reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His lips met yours in a longing kiss, full with desperation.

His hands roam through the cold fabric of your thighs as he bringed your leg to his hip, making you straddle him. He holds you close by your neck and doesnt let go of your lips. You could still taste the champagne from earlier in his lips. You put your hands in his blonde locks and bring him even closer. After all this teasing, both of you were craving this.

“I want more” You say between breaths. You feel him between your thighs, the warmth of his hands in your hips. You couldnt stop with just his lips, you wanted to have all of him. You wanted him to caress the parts that ached to be touched.

He reached for the hem of your dress until you were just in underwear. His hands roam at your back, your stomach, your legs and you reach over to his pants. He unclasps your bra and his fingers wander around the lace of your panties. He faintly touches your clothed pussy making you dig your nails into his shoulders. He finally gets rid of them.

Both of you are naked when he slides his thumb over your folds “So wet” He moves it up and down, you lean into his shoulder wanting more friction. “You have no idea how much I wanted to feel you” He curls his fingers into your pussy. You whimper and search for his lips once again.

You moan into his ear, and he holds you down with his other hand. “I went through hell with all these months of teasing” He grabs you by the jaw, making you look at him with glossy eyes as he increases the speed of his fingers.

“God” He takes hold of your cheek. “Look at you, all pretty moaning for me” your hand travelled down to his cock and gave it a few strokes, before he stopped fingering you.

“You want this?” He grabs his cock and slides it through your folds. You nod and he slowly slides into you, grabbing you by the hips. He moans in unison with you as he streeches you out.

He speeds up and has you moaning. “You like this? hmm? You stretch so good around me” You clench around him, your response for his question. He slows the pace. “Say it” You let out a cry. 

“Yes” You said without breath, as you grind up and down him wanting to pick up the pace. He holds you still at the hips.

“Yes what?” He moves his hips in circles around his cock at a slow pace. 

“Yes, I love the way you stretch me out!” You cry out and he picks up the pace, building up your orgasm.

You twitch around him and feel the way his shoulders tense up. He releases into you and you finally release, leaning into his lips. 

As both of you try to catch your breath he removes the strands of hair stuck at your forehead, and looks at you with his lips swollen and cheeks flushed.  

Your hands rest on his sweaty chest, as you lean again for a quick kiss. 

“I still can't believe you spilled champagne all over yourself infront of everyone, '' he said with a small laugh. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment once more, and you started to stand up, but were stopped by his hand on your neck pulling you down to his lips. 

“It worked, no?” You replied.

[zepskies]

Show Me - Part 1

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: Another story for the Espresso-verse! This is set after “Devour Me,” and plays on plot threads in “Midnight Espresso” and the flashbacks in “In Bad Weather.”

Word Count: 3,100

Tags/Warnings: Angst, body shaming, body insecurity, protective Dean.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: “Objects Are Closer Than They Appear”

Hunter funerals aren’t supposed to be lively affairs.

Alicia Jackson is special, however. She’s known so well throughout the hunter community that news of her death creates a kind of reunion at her mother’s house after the funeral, not unlike Asa Fox’s wake last year.

Even you had known Alicia, though not particularly well. You met her through Eileen. They’d called for your help on a ciguapa case a few months ago, and ever since, Alicia had insisted on buying you a beer anytime she was in town.

So today, Sam and Dean are really supporting you and Eileen by coming along.

Alicia’s mother, Martha, is a lovely Haitian woman in her late sixties. Her house is modest, but welcoming. She’s a gracious host to have so many rough and tumble hunters in her home.

The wake is mainly gathered in the backyard, where plastic tables and chairs have been set up. Most of the hunters have collected into groups of the ones they know, sharing stories, laughing, eating, and drinking.

You’re in the kitchen with Martha, as you’ve offered to help her put out some more beers on the table outside. The smaller woman falters for a moment when she glances at a framed picture of her daughter on the wall. Alicia was beautiful, with coal-dark skin and soulful brown eyes she’d inherited from her mother.

You end up holding Martha’s hands in comfort when she nearly crumbles again. Your heart breaks for her. Even if you hadn’t been that close with Alicia, you’d hope that someone would take care of your own mother in a situation like this.

“She just has so many friends,” Martha says, with a tearful chuckle. “I never realized…”

“We try to look after each other,” you reply, smiling. “Everyone here knew your daughter, if not personally, then by reputation. And guaranteed, all of them have at least one good story to share.”

Martha nods. Somehow, she’s able to smile through her tears as she pats your hand. 

After spending a few more minutes with her, you predictably find Dean by a long table of hors d’oeuvres and desserts.

“Babe, you gotta try these mini quiche. They’re delicious,” he says, after popping another pastry into his mouth. You can see that he’s eaten nearly a whole tray while he’s been waiting for you.

“You realize we’re at a wake, not the Golden Corral,” you lightly tease. He shrugs.

“Still gotta eat, right?” he says.

His capacity for food knows no bounds, but you love him for it.

You glance over at Sam and Eileen chatting with a small group of hunters under the shade of a tree. They’re sitting close together at a picnic table. Your lips form a subtle smile, and you lean in close to Dean.

“Look at your brother, being a supportive non-boyfriend,” you say. They’ve been loosely “dating” for weeks, though you aren’t sure they’ve put an official label on what they are together.

Dean’s expression turns both fond and amused. “Think they’ve sealed the deal yet?”

You glance over at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” Dean waggles his brows suggestively. You do know what he means, and you playfully smack his chest. Mostly to stop him before he starts making lewd hand motions.

“Come on, that’s none of our business,” you reply. Inside though, you’re wondering the same thing.

Dean spies the look on your face and smirks.

“See. You’re curious too,” he says. He gestures at your face with the same hand that holds a bacon-wrapped cocktail weenie. You have to raise a hand to fend him off when he tries to veer it into your mouth.

“Don’t point at me with your sausage,” you quip.

“Funny. I’ve never heard that particular complaint outta your mouth before,” he smirks.

He eventually gives up on feeding you and eats it himself. His warm gaze is still on you though. You start to blush.

“Again, we’re literally at a funeral reception,” you say, despite your growing smile.

His gait becomes more flirtatious as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Like I said. We still gotta eat, don’t we?”

You splutter laughing, though you attempt to contain it behind your hand. Dean’s chuckle resonates through you when he pulls you in by your waist. His thumb brushes your hip. He’s not so much into PDA, and certainly not as “touchy” as you, but this much will do for now. You lean into him in turn.

He finishes off his umpteenth hours d’oeuvre and sets his nearly empty beer on the table. After letting loose a barely stifled belch, he mentions something about finding a bathroom.

“Dogs are already barkin’, huh?” you tease.

“Yep,” he freely admits, patting his stomach. “Give me five minutes…or ten.”

He squeezes your arm in parting before he takes off down the hall at a purposeful pace. It leaves you to contemplate the mini quiche.

Damn, they do look good. You bend over the table slightly to peruse your options, when a familiar voice drawls behind you.

“Still got a fat ass,” he teases.

You freeze. Slowly, you straighten up, and you turn to blink in surprise at the man who stands there, holding a beer and wearing a playful smile.

Yours is polite at best as you try to get through your shock.

“Carter,” you blurt out. What the hell are you doing here?

He greets you with an incline of his head. The way he says your name is both familiar, and a little unsettling.

You cross your arms and lean back on your heels. “You knew Alicia?”

“We tangled a few times,” Carter replies with a nod. His smile laces with a bit of innuendo, but his eyes have just enough heaviness to convince you that he really did have some kind of relationship with Alicia.

Oh, Ali. You could’ve done better, you think. You wish you’d known that tidbit of information when she was alive. You would’ve warned her.

“I’m sorry for your loss then,” you say. Carter nods again. A silence falls awkwardly between you two.

“Is that all we’re gonna say to each other?” he asks. “It’s been…what, a couple years?”

“Almost four,” you supply. You and Carter had ended just a few months before you met Sam and Dean, a little over three years ago now. You and Dean hadn’t started dating until last year.

“All right,” Carter says, rubbing at his chin. His gaze roams over you with a slight smile. They take you in from your high-heeled boots and jean-clad curvy thighs, to your green blouse, laced loosely in the front. You’d decided to dress a little nicer for the occasion.

“You know, you look the same,” Carter says. His head tilts. “But different somehow.”

You raise a brow. “Different?”

“Yeah, like…” He draws closer and leans on the table beside you. He sips at his beer. “Confident. Like you’re not hiding yourself anymore.”

He mimics the hunch of a turtle in its shell.

“You used to be like a little mouse sometimes,” he adds with a light chuckle.

You know he means to be teasing, but you’re not laughing. If you’re not hiding anymore, it means you’re not trying to bury yourself under shapeless clothes, along with much of your inner self.

“Don’t you think that’s a little tight?” he’d asked you once, before you two went out together. It wasn’t the first time. (And it wouldn’t be the last.)

“I’m just saying,” he would often say. “You might feel more comfortable in something a bit looser. Cover these up a little.”

You remember how he’d squeezed the softness around your sides or your stomach. You also remember a well of anxiety in your chest that had made you feel almost grotesque when you’d studied yourself in the mirror afterwards.

Objects are closer than they appear…

You remember agreeing with him. Changing clothes. Drowning yourself in crewneck shirts and breezy buttoned-downs. Always wearing pants and baggy shirts to bed. Thinking all of this was to make you comfortable, and not the man who didn’t really love you.

So now, you give him a passive look as you take Dean’s forgotten beer and finish the last sip. Carter wears a hunter’s red plaid over jeans and his old leather boots. His blonde hair is shaggy around his ears, his face a little rough with stubble, his eyes still a deep blue.

He looks exactly the same. He probably is the same.

He’s right about one thing though. You’re not the same.

“We’re not in the profession of hiding,” you finally reply. “Guess I just got tired of it.”

Carter seems to sense your shift, and maybe, what you’re really saying. His smile falls into contemplation. He crosses his arms.

“Did I spot you with one of the Winchesters earlier?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that was Dean.”

Before you can add the boyfriend part, Carter whistles lowly and shakes his head.

“I’d steer clear of them if I were you,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Those two are walking hurricanes of bad luck, blood, and mayhem,” Carter says.

“You don’t even know Sam and Dean,” you counter. Your voice is sharp and your brows knit together in thinly veiled irritation. “So I suggest you shut your mouth and steer clear of me.”

You set the beer bottle a bit hard on the table and mean to brush past him. You spot Sam and Eileen again, still sitting in their same table under the tree. You aim to head over there to wait for Dean, but a hand wraps around your arm.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Carter frowns.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you tell him. You’re discreet in the way you try to twist your arm out of his grip. You glance around to make sure no one’s watching you two. The last thing you want to do is make a scene here, but Carter is being a stubborn ass.

Even though you manage to wrench out of his hold, he grasps your hand next to stop you from pulling away. He looks down at your hand, brushes his thumb over your skin. His gaze looks heavy, almost melancholy.

You know that funerals tend to bring out the sentimental shoulda, coulda, woulda in hunters, but you think he might be looking back on your time together with rosier glasses than he ought to be.

“Look, I'm sorry. Can’t I at least get you a drink? We can catch up,” he says.

“Consider me caught up,” you toss back. Frustration begins to set you on edge. “I don’t know why you’re pushing this. I mean, God, we weren’t even good together.”

At that, his grip tightens on your hand. Confusion and denial cross his face.

“That’s not true,” he protests.

Unbidden, you’re forced to remember the weeks you and Carter spent in Miami, where you’d met him. You remember how he’d convinced you to leave with him after his hunt was done, and to leave your family behind. A decision you regret to this day…

You lean in closer just to whisper hotly. “You know it is. We didn’t have a relationship. We had a transaction, in which you liked what I could do for you. But you never loved me. You never even really knew me.”

At that, his hold finally loosens in his shock. You take the opportunity to slip your hand out of his. Another familiar hand rests along your lower back, and a firm wall radiates warmth behind you.

“Hey, party people,” Dean says. He gives Carter a “pleasant” smile, and you a more genuine look. You okay? it says.

You let out a subtly relieved breath and nod. “Hey, was just gonna go check on you.”

“I’m good,” Dean says. He looks over at Carter, whose expression has cooled considerably. Still, Dean inclines his head. “Hey, man.”

“Yeah,” Carter says. His tone is bland, until his gaze slides back to you.

“Don’t tell me you’re shacking up with this one now,” he says, leveling a finger at Dean. Then he gestures across the lawn, over at Sam. “Or is it the former anti-Christ over there?”

Both you and Dean bristle. Your temper has a thin fuse right now, and while you still don’t want to make a scene, you might have to make an exception.

“Why don’t you remember where the hell you are and have some decency,” you hiss. “Do us all a favor and fuck off.”

Once again, you try to walk past him. This time when Carter grabs you, it’s because he smarts at you getting the last word. A sharp breath escapes you, and Dean intervenes with a firm, warning grip on the other man’s wrist.

“Hey, you wanna act right, before you make yourself a problem?” Dean says. His face is relaxed, but behind his eyes are a very real threat. “I got no issue laying you out right here, in front of all your buddies.”

Carter has a moment of indecision. He notices a few pairs of eyes drawing their way, and so he lets go of you, even as he sneers at Dean.

“Shove the Prince Charming bit, asshole. She ain’t a damn princess,” Carter snaps. “She don’t act like one, and she definitely don’t look like one.”

You roll your eyes at his spite, but Dean can’t quite let that one slide off his back. 

His grip tightens on Carter’s wrist as he pulls him in. He pats Carter hard on the back and smiles as if they’re old friends. But really, it just gives him the vantage point to speak lowly near the man’s ear.

“All right, douchebag. Keep talking shit. I’ll bet that’s how you’ve gotten this far in life,” Dean says. “But touch her again, and I’ll break every damn bone in your hand. And maybe, I won’t stop there.”

He tilts his head, so he can see the glimmer of intimidation hidden well behind the other man’s eyes. Then Dean lets him go. He turns and lays a hand at the small of your back. The two of you fall into step together while walking across the lawn in the backyard.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly.

Dean frowns and notices the way your gaze has lowered. His hand moves around your waist and squeezes to get your attention. Without him realizing, it just reminds you of the way Carter used to point out the thicker curves on your body.

Cover these up a little.

“Hey, you okay—”

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, easing out of his hold.

It leaves him feeling unbalanced, and a bit put out. Dean remains quiet as he follows you over to his brother’s table.

“Are you all right?” Sam asks you, discreetly, but with concern. The wake is coming to an end, and by now Dean has filled him in on your run in with your ex, Carter Hall.

You give Sam a nod and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I'm good,” you reply.

Dean is quiet. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets. Eileen has invited you and Dean to join her and Sam at a nearby bar to keep the evening going with a few other hunters, but this has already been one hell of a day. You’re ready to make the long drive home and call it a night.

Eileen’s also agreed to take Sam home (eventually). You notice how they share smiles, how Eileen ducks her head with the beginnings of a blush. You’re happy for them, even as you and Dean part ways with a more stifled silence on the way back to the car.

It’s late, and it’s cold. You walk beside him with your arms crossed, just to brace yourself against the windchill eating through your jacket. You glance over at your boyfriend and feel a measure of remorse for the way you brushed him off earlier. You have a feeling that’s part of the reason why he’s quiet, giving you your space.

You decide to close the distance. You sidle up closer and curl your arm around his. Your hand slips into his as well, threading your fingers together with Dean’s.

He looks over at you with a slight raise of his brows. His lips quirk at a smile, and his hand tightens on yours. You’re able to give him a more sincere smile in return.   

“Can I tell you something?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

You look up at him and bite your lower lip. “I’m starving. I never did get to try those quiche.”

It only takes a moment for you to devolve into a quiet giggle. It’s infectious, and Dean laughs with you.

“Okay, we’ll stop somewhere,” he nods. Though his eyes widen in realization. “Damn, that means you haven’t eaten since, what, this morning? Before the funeral?”

You mentally count back the hours, and you have to agree with a sheepish nod. Dean shakes his head in disapproval.

“Come on, sweetheart. You should’ve said something.”

You shrug, even though you know he’s right. Your free hand curls around his bicep, and you lay your head against his arm. He looks down at the top of your head and heaves a sigh, despite his lingering smile.

Though the peace you’ve brokered is soon interrupted.

Dean had to park down the road of Martha Jackson’s house. Two cars down is Carter, who’s about to climb into his old Honda Civic.

Damn. He’s still driving the same piece of shit too, you note. His head raises, and as if he knows he’s being watched, his attention turns toward you and Dean. You don’t allow yourself to react, other than staring across the way, directly at Carter. You wait until he looks away first, opening his door and getting into his car.

You expel a breath and brush your thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

“Let’s go,” you say.

Dean nods. He guides you toward the passenger side of the Impala, but his gaze lands beyond his car, to the Honda still parked and warming up. He finds Carter’s gaze through the front window for a moment.

It’s Carter who once again breaks first; he revs the ignition and peels onto the street, and down the road past them without looking back.

Dean's lips curve. Bitch.

Shaking his head, he rolls his shoulders and rounds the car towards the driver’s side.

He’s more than ready to go home.

AN: *sighs* Okay, originally this story was going to be a one-shot, but it just got too damn long. Let me know what you think of Dean finally meeting her ex-douchebag, Carter.

Part 2 (coming next week) will include all the angsty hurt/comfort and smut to come...

Next Time:

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower... “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.  

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

Keep Reading: PART 2

🎙️ Want to listen to the whole story narrated in podfic form? Check it out:

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[throneofsmut]

Bound In Flames - Part 1

Eris Vanserra x Archeron-Sister-Reader || WC: 2.2k || Hunting & Animal Death

Summary: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family’s cottage and go through life changing experiences.

A/N : This series is inspired by one of my kinktober fics with Eris and I have no idea where this is gonna go. So it’ll still be based on acotar but i’ll be putting my own twist on the plot. And just a heads up i haven’t reread acotar in like a year and a half or written anything like this in a couple years so i really hope you guys like it.

****

The sun was going to dip below the horizon soon. Feyre and you had ventured deeper into the woods today. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Our footsteps were muffled by a layer of fallen snow as we continued tracking a deer, the first one we’d seen in a while. Winter had made game scarce and we weren’t about to go home empty handed. Not when we were so hungry.

Feyre's bow was securely clutched in her hands, an arrow nocked while you had two daggers clutched in yours. Moving quietly and swiftly knowing there was a good chance you weren’t the only ones out here. Even though there was a treaty made between the humans and fae, neither of you were allowed to go over the other’s side of the wall, but the fae still did.

And right now Feyre and you both knew how dangerously close you were to their side of the wall.

Suddenly, the doe you were following came to a stop in a clearing. Drinking from a puddle of snow that had surely melted only hours ago. Feyre and you stopped, both standing behind tall thick trees that were only a couple feet apart. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Then a branch snapped and the doe snapped its head up in the direction it came from. Neither one of you moved, tense minutes passed and the deer went back to drinking. Our gazes locked, sharing a moment of silent understanding. Feyre nodded, lifting her bow, nocking the arrow again. Her blue-grey eyes gleaming with starving determination, while you shifted your grip on your ash wood hilted daggers.

The both of you take a small breath, Feyre preparing to let her arrow fly true and you now pinching the bladed tips of your daggers. Feeling your sister’s eyes on you, you gave a small nod and she let her arrow find its home in the doe’s throat. And it fell. You hated the next part, always had but it had to be done.

Readying your daggers to finally cease the doe’s movements, knowing they would hit their mark but just before you let them go, you hesitated. Feeling someone--no not someone--something watching you. There on the other side of the clearing you could barely make out its form, but golden eyes meet yours. At your hesitation Feyre followed your line of sight.

Then it was moving on large silent paws, a massive wolf stared at you. This wolf couldn’t just be a normal wolf, it had to be fae by the sheer size of it alone. Feyre nocked her bow once again with the single ash wood arrow she had. Hearing your sister’s bow drawn taut you lift your hand again stopping her, cocking your head to the side sizing up the wolf, to your surprise it matched your movement.

With hearts pounding in sync, you heard Feyre steady her breath, readying her arrow to find its home in the wolf. Unconsciously mirroring your sister you readjusted your hold on your daggers. Time seemed to slow as the wolf and you locked eyes, the forest around you fading into the background.

In one swift motion, Feyre pulled back the bowstring before letting go, her muscles taut with anticipation as it cut through the crisp air. You lunged forward, your dagger glinting in the fading light. The wolf lunged as well, teeth bared, its growls reverberating through your bones. But, Feyre's arrow found its mark, piercing the creature's side. Your dagger followed suit, slashing through the air with precision. Finding its mark in its throat.

The wolf yelped in pain, its powerful limbs faltering. Feyre and you stood your ground, eyes locked on the wounded wolf. You had faced countless challenges together, but this was a moment that would forever bind you as sisters, and you didn’t even know it.

And as the wolf's final breaths were escaping its jaws, you took slow steps toward it, until you could kneel in front of it. Its gaze locked with yours and it almost looked relieved. Lifting your hand towards the side of its large head, “Don’t," Feyre breathed.

“It’s okay.” You whispered more for the wolf than your sister, your hand pressed against the soft fur. Repeating yourself again, “It’s okay.” As you petted the side of its face. You knew for certain they were fae and without knowing why, you wanted to comfort them as much as you could in these last moments. “You won’t leave this world alone.” You rasped out low enough so Feyre wouldn’t hear you, you weren’t sure if the wolf did either until it pressed its head further into your palm.

With your free hand you gripped the hilt of your dagger that was still in its throat and moved closer so its head was laid on your lap. Your other hand was still pressed against the side of its face as you placed a kiss atop its head, “I’m so sorry.” Taking a shaky breath as you readied to pull the dagger out, “Cauldron save you. Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Fear no pain.” Voice wavering as you white knuckled the dagger now, “Go, and enter eternity.” The wolf took one last shallow breath and as it exhaled you pulled your dagger out.

Its chest didn’t rise again.

Wordlessly you stood up moving to the doe. It took you longer than usual to prepare it to drag it back to your family’s cottage. The unshed tears welled up in your eyes making your vision blurry. Just as you were getting ready to heft it over your shoulders to make the long trek home you heard Feyre approaching you. Turning to face her, you shuddered, noticing the wolf’s fur slung across her shoulders “It would’ve been a shame to leave the wolf and you know it.” She tried to reason with you for skinning the wolf.

You shook your head as you let out a grunt against the doe’s weight as you hoisted it over your shoulders.

“Here let me.” Feyre said as she reached for the doe.

“I got it. Go.” Your voice was harsher than you intended it to be. She looked at you with furrowed brows before starting to walk. Only making it a couple feet when she paused, sparing a final glance at the steaming carcass of the wolf.

Looking at you over her shoulder, letting out a sigh, “I wish I had it in me to feel remorse for the dead thing. But this is the forest, and it’s winter.” Scoffing as you moved to go around her but she stopped you, “What is wrong with you? It’s just an animal.”

Narrowing your eyes at her, “No. It’s not and we both know it.”

“So what if it was a faerie, it was going to kill us. We should be happy it was alone and we killed it.” She argued, “You know where we are, what’s out here, so why are you making a big deal out of this?”

“A life is a life.” Your voice was sharp as you tried to make your point, “And just because it was alone doesn’t mean, someone isn’t going to come looking for them.” Her face paled at your words, “So yeah, it is a big deal.”

When you went to walk around her this time, she didn’t stop you. The sun had set by the time you both exited the forest. Knees shaking, your hands stiff from clenching the legs of the deer, which had gone numb miles ago. Not even the carcass could ward off the deepening chill of the winter air.

Your family’s cottage was now in view, soft light escaping the shuttered windows of the dilapidated cottage. Trudging up the path leading to the front door, Feyre stopped you about halfway, “How did you know that prayer?”

Holding her gaze as you schooled your face into an unreadable mask, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She folded her arms across her chest, eyes flickering between yours, trying to find an answer in them.

Feyre let out a defeated sigh, “You know you can trust me, right? Since we were little, I knew you were different and I never said anything because you’re my sister and I love you.” You stiffened as you registered the full weight of her words. “I noticed it more when we first started to hunt. You could hear, smell and--and just sense things that I couldn’t. I know you know things that I don’t but I need to know that you know I love you and that you’ll always be my sister.” You swallowed thickly before nodding.

You just stood there as she took the deer off your shoulders and walked inside the cottage. Mind racing as you thought to every slip up you’d had without realizing it. How could you tell her that you weren’t really her sister let alone human.Taking a couple breaths to steady yourself before walking into the cottage.

As soon as you crossed the threshold Feyre's eyes found yours. Looking around the room you saw your father by the fire as always and your sisters looked like they were about to pounce on Feyre. Nesta and Elain were hungrily eyeing the doe she had set on the wooden table. Feyre gave you a pained but gentle smile as she rolled up her sleeves, “Go wash up, I’ll prep the deer.” You opened your mouth but quickly shut it, settling for a nod before turning to the room your and you sisters shared.

When you finished bathing you got dressed and headed to the small kitchen that joined the small living room. From the looks of it the food was halfway done as you approached Feyre, “Go wash up. I’ll finish it.” She nodded and you moved to finish roasting the venison. Elain and Nesta tried to grab a piece but you swatted their hands away, “You're worse than children.”

Elain whined, holding a hand to her belly, “But I’m so hungry!”

Rolling your eyes as you turned to look at her, “Get the plates and set the table.” She was still eyeing the venison, “Now, Elain!” She huffed stomping away. Then you noticed your oldest sister inching closer, “Nesta, go help her.”

She crossed her arms over her chest before sneering at you, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

You were the only one that was never intimidated by her, so turning your body to fully face hers, giving her a wicked smile, “Then you won’t eat.”

She tried to pin you with her gaze, letting her anger show but she always forgot that while she was angry you were the embodiment of rage. And unlike her you could back it up. Whenever money and food was really scarce you'd go to a tavern on the other side of the wall known for fights. It wasn't hard for your family to put it together when you'd come back days later with some coin and bloody, bruised knuckles. Sometimes a busted lip or a cut eyebrow, but they never knew it was over the wall.

So you gave a pointed glance at her fists that were now clenched at her sides, “Do it. . . or go help Elain set the table.” Turning back around to watch the venison, she stood there for a minute before going to help Elain.

Feyre came back out as you were about to plate up the food. She sat and you filled her plate first and then yours father’s, Elain’s, yours and finally Nesta’s. As always dinner was tense, Nesta always tried to argue with Feyre or you. Tonight Feyre was her target.

They were arguing over money after Feyre had said she and you were going to go to the market to try to sell the wolf’s pelt and the doe’s hide. Like always you tuned them out as they argued not caring to waste your breath on deaf ears. Until Feyre was calling your name.

“Y/n!”

“What?”

“Tell Nesta she’s not gonna marry Tomas Mandray.”

Sliding your gaze to your eldest sister, “Fuck no, you’re not gonna marry him.”

Elain’s voice cut in, “But if it’s a love match, why shouldn’t they?”

Your eyes were still glued to Nesta’s as you grit out, “No. It’s not. You and I both know it.” You directed at Nesta.

Nesta looked away and stared at her now empty plate. You kept your eyes on her for a few moments longer before meeting Feyre’s. Her eyebrow arched in silent question, you shook your head, silently communicating with your eyes that you would tell her later. She relented, nodding. Your father was just quietly staring at you, Elain’s voice cutting in again, “But--“

“No!” You snapped, cutting her off. “End of fucking discussion!” Letting out a sharp breath trying to calm yourself, “The day one of you finds someone that’s worth marrying you off to, Feyre and I will gladly hand you over. Until then I’m going to sleep, I’ve had a long day and I’m tired.”

No one said anything else as you stood up, washed your plate and went into your shared bedroom. Ready to let sleep claim you that night and hoping you didn’t dream of the wolf.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12

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[cherigu]

— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Love to Hate, Hate to Love!

Genre: smut, enemies to lovers Pairing: sub!jeongguk x softdom!reader Word Count: 5.7k Warnings: porn (with) plot, college au, alcohol consumption, reader calls jk puppy like once, hair pulling, nipple play, jk cums in his pants, dry humping, implied oral

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“Words spread like wildfire, Jimin. I’ve heard a thing or two about Jeongguk and they’re not all that good.” You stopped to pop a candy in your mouth, loving the taste of the sugary sweetness. 

The soft glow of Jimin’s TV was currently the only form of lighting, doing a sufficient job of illuminating the living room. The two of you were sitting on either side of the black couch, sharing the snacks that were supposed to be for movie night. The long-forgotten Disney movie served as background noise for the gossip you were currently engaging in.

“I doubt it though, he seems like a good guy. Of course, completely disregarding that I haven’t met him.” You finished chewing and passed the box of sweets to Jimin. He took the box before starting, “What kinds of things have you heard?” You scoffed in disbelief, surprised Jimin didn’t know about what people on campus said about his friend.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Jeongguk was walking down the apartment corridor, eagerly scanning the doors for Jimin’s apartment number. With two takeout boxes on one arm, he raised the unoccupied one to knock on Jimin’s door. Just as his tattooed hand was about to come in contact with the door, he quickly pulled away at the sound of the familiar voice he identified as yours, saying his name. He couldn’t help but eavesdrop knowing the conversation was about him.

“His shy persona is bullshit. He butters girls up only to get his dick wet and throws them out the next morning. Not just that, but he’s an overall asshole. No wonder he has no friends.” You raised your hands to use air quotes, something Jeongguk couldn’t see. “That’s insane, I get the dude looks intimidating, but his exterior doesn’t reflect his personality. Jeongguk is a sweetheart!” Jimin exclaimed while shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how stupid people were.

Jeongguk was the most gentle person he’d ever met in his life. He was selfless, always putting others before him even if it meant he’d end up getting the short end of the stick. He’d comfort you while holding back tears of his own, not wanting to redirect the concern to him. He’d let you eat the leftovers he had saved for his dinner, even if he’d go to sleep hungry. Yet still people made up ways to talk down on one of the kindest people on campus.

Jeongguk’s tense body relaxed a bit after hearing Jimin defend him but the shock of your words made his blood run cold. The two of you were never really close. Despite being in the same friend group, Jeongguk was more reserved and kept to himself, not allowing you to get to know him much. He doubted his ability to even call you an acquaintance. 

That still didn’t stop him from admiring you from afar. Another reason the two of you never got close was because of his undeniable crush on you. He feared that he’d mess things up and say the wrong words, considering he felt more timid than usual around you. You were pretty and the few times you had interacted with him, you were nothing but kind to him. This made his heart shrink even more, is this what you thought of him all along?

 He sadly looked down at his takeout boxes as he toyed with his lip piercing, wondering if it’d be a good idea to announce his presence at this point. He figured he couldn’t let the food go to waste as he wouldn’t be able to eat both boxes, so he sucked in a breath and shyly knocked on the door.

Jimin excused himself, making his way to the door to check who it was through the peephole. He flung the door open in excitement as his favorite person stood on the other side of the walls. 

“Gukkie! What’s up? Come inside” Jimin excitedly motioned his hands towards the living room, dropping them when Jeongguk didn’t seem to move an inch. “Um..I-I actually have somewhere to be… Just needed to drop off some food for you. Picked up some takeout and figured I’d get some for you as well” Jeongguk nervously handed the box to Jimin, painfully aware that he wasn’t the best liar in the world.

“My boy” Jimin gracefully accepted the box and pinched his cheek before Jeongguk playfully swatted his hand away.  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit? y/n’s here, you guys can finally get to properly meet each other!”

 “It’s kind of urgent hyung, I’m sorry. At least you have company so you won’t eat alone right?” 

“Ah, I guess so. She’s been here a while now so she might head out soon, or not? Y/n acts like she lives here, that girl” Jimin chuckled.

Jeongguk nodded, wincing at the mention of your name.

“I’ll still make sure to get you guys to know each other next time I host at my place, probably in a week” Jimin exclaimed, already eager to introduce his two best friends to each other.

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If there was someone who was a man of his word, it had to be Jimin. Although on this rare occasion, Jeongguk wished he wasn’t. Not that he’d appreciate a liar, but at least he wouldn’t be standing uncomfortably by the snack table waiting for his friends to approach him. Somehow he felt more nervous than if he’d been at a real party. Jimin liked to throw gatherings where he’d invite his friend group, encouraging them to bring a plus one. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either. This meant he’d for sure bump into you tonight. He had tried getting out of this, he did, but how could he not come when Jimin’s pout was audible through the phone when he heard Jeongguk had to take a rain check? If he had to attend, the least he could do was pray that you wouldn’t. 

He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his arm being tugged by none other than Taehyung.

“Jeonggukkie let’s go play Do or Drink!” he giggled, already drunk and still looking forward to drinking more.

Soon enough he was brought to the living room where a circle of familiar, and unfamiliar, faces had gathered in excitement to play the drinking game. There wasn’t much space given the eagerness of the people to drink in a fun way. Taehyung felt Jeongguk’s uncertainty, so he pushed him toward the only empty spot. “Go sit with y/n!” Jeongguk snapped his head to where Taehyung had pointed, and sure enough, you were there.

Even while sitting down, Jeongguk got a perfect view of you. While he already knew this, it felt wrong to admit the undeniable. You were beautiful.

Curvy body adorned with a tight black dress, seemingly hugging you in all of the right places. Diamond necklace delicately draped over your collarbones, unintentionally garnering attention to your chest. The dress ended just above your mid-thigh, exposing the smooth skin of your legs which were crossed as you prettily sat while you waited for the game to start. The diamond anklet wrapped around your ankle matched the necklace, clearly showing you had an eye for accessories that elevated your looks. 

As if it couldn’t get any better, you made eye contact with him, allowing him to get a full view of your features. Your eyes sparked like you carried the whole galaxy in them. They turned into crescent moons when you smiled at him, pretty plump lips curling up just enough to show off your pearly whites. You waved and pointed to the spot next to you, inviting him to sit.

Jeongguk was starstruck, if there was at least one person out there who was the definition of perfect, it had to be you. He quickly broke out of his trance, suddenly remembering what you had said about him a week ago. He understood now. You were beautiful, you had friends, smarts, and a social life, which explains why you thought of him the way you did. You didn’t have time to associate with people like him, hence why you only had a notion of him based on what other people said. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little bitter. 

The game seemed to drag on forever. He hadn’t had much to drink yet with the dares being pretty tame and doable, but he was surely tipsy enough to fall into an extreme state of paranoia. His sweaty hands were red from how many times he had wiped them on the rough material of his jeans. He couldn’t help but squirm in his spot. Had you gotten closer, or was it the alcohol? He knew it wasn’t a big deal, you hadn’t made an effort to communicate with him, being too preoccupied with the game. Still, he couldn’t help but feel nervous by your threatening presence. All he wanted to do was get this night over with without having to cross paths with you after this. However, the universe had other plans as Hoseok, the designated card reader, read out the younger’s card.

“Kiss the person to your right, or take a shot”

Jeongguk’s throat suddenly went dry, unable to swallow properly. He tried his best to act normal about it, but his widened eyes communicated his panic to the rest of the circle. 

“Finally this game gets somewhere!” Mina clapped. 

Jeongguk turned to his right, and almost as if the two of you were in sync, you turned to look at him as well. Your eyes locked for less than two seconds before Jeongukk spoke.

If Jeongguk felt nervous just from sitting next to you before, he was surely going to throw up now.

“I’ll take the drink” He turned away to look at Namjoon who was in charge of the drinks. “Are you sure? There’s only vodka left, I know you don’t like it-” Namjoon warned while filling up the shot glass regardless.

“I don’t care” 

Jeongguk quickly took the glass in his hands when Namjoon passed it, pouring the clear liquid down his throat which caused his face to scrunch into one of disgust. He winced at the taste but swallowed it nevertheless.

Your gaze never seemed to falter from his face, burning holes into the side of his skull, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You didn’t understand why the boy had reacted that way, not even giving you a chance to come to an agreement of at least kissing you on the cheek, as the card hadn’t exclusively said a kiss on the lips. Instead, he chose to send himself into a coughing fit all because he drank the strongest alcohol available at the party.

“The speed of his decision was almost offensive” Joy snickered.

“Don’t know where her mouth has been” Jeongguk murmured, but not silent enough for the players to ignore, especially not you. “Excuse me?” You turned your body towards him with a stern, yet confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You scoffed while crossing your arms.

“E-exactly what I said, probably sucked someone off before playing. Maybe more than o-one.” Jeongguk replied, strong words contrasting with his insecure body language. He didn’t realize the weight of his words, never being one to insult people to their faces, or at all. You could say his subconscious mind spoke for him, needing to let you know that you weren’t the only one who could talk shit about someone before fully getting to know them.

At this point, the circle of people had grown silent as you sharply stood up. The public’s eyes fixated either on you or the boy who seemed to shrink under your killer gaze.

“How about instead of speaking on matters that don’t concern you, much less know about, you just accept that you couldn’t kiss me because you’d pop a boner in front of everyone.” You picked up your bag, “Easy fuck, probably made that shit up ‘cause you wished it’d been you, huh? Those people were right about you and your act.” You spat at him, never failing to break eye contact with him. With that, you left.

You weren’t sure if you had overreacted or not, the buzz from the alcohol clouding your judgment and making you slightly more irritable than usual. Regardless of that, disrespect is something you will never stand for, especially if it’s unprovoked. 

Jimin had taken off behind you, but not before scowling at Jeongguk. 

“Y/n!” Jimin’s voice rang behind you. You stopped to turn to look at him, and then back at the staircase to make sure you wouldn’t fall given your alcohol-induced blurry vision. 

“Look, I don’t know what your friend’s deal is, but tell him to take it up with his daddy. I literally do not know him enough to have ever done anything to him, yet he still had the nerve to not only disrespect me but humiliate me in front of my friends with some crazy accusations.” 

Jimin sighed, “I don’t know what got into him tonight, he usually takes his alcohol well, it couldn’t have been that. Whatever it was though, I’m so sorry he did that.”

“You don’t have to apologize unless you’ve been running your mouth to him about my personal business that made him come to that conclusion.” You huffed, only now thinking of the possibility that the person you trusted the most with details about your sex life, was airing out your business.

“Never! You know I wouldn’t do that to you y/n. Look, I’ll talk to him, alright? I’ll make sure the boys knock some sense into him.” Jimin placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You placed your own on top of his, believing and trusting him.

“Alright”

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That was a year ago, and sure enough, Jimin had talked to Jeongguk that night. Although the younger didn’t seem to cooperate. In his words, he had said that because “it could’ve been true.” He never gave the real reason as to why he said what he said, leaving everyone in the dark concerning his unexpected behavior that day at the gathering. 

Ever since then, the two of you were intolerable to one another. You avoided each other at all costs, but while technically being in the same friend group, it was impossible. You would run into each other occasionally, and it’d never end well. Curses and yells were shared, always needing the older friends to intervene and ensure no one bit the other’s head off. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Jeongguk’s anger was just a façade. He never meant anything he said, down to the comment that started this whole feud. The truth is, he was more hurt than angry at what you said, but his feelings for you never seemed to dissolve. That’s what got him the most. With every insult he threw at you, his intention was not to hurt your feelings. The boy only tried to protect his heart against the power of your rage.

He knew he was at fault, but there was no use in regretting the stupid comment he made in the heat of the moment. It was done, and he was sure you’d never forgive him. That left him with no option but to reciprocate the anger and hatred you showed him anytime you saw him. 

Jeongguk stepped into Yoongi’s house, entering the party he was so desperate to attend just to have an excuse to drink. He knew he was bound to bump into you at some point throughout the night, but if he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t have to care or even remember.

He had cleaned up nice, ironic considering his mind was a mess. His shoulder-length hair was nicely styled into a half ponytail, the middle part allowing the bangs to fall on either side of his face. A grey short sleeve draped over his toned body, exposing his buff arms that were so beautifully covered in tattoos. He had been keen on detailing recently, nicely tucking the front of his oversized tee into his black baggy jeans, tying it together with a belt. To add the final touch, he matched the silver buckle of his belt with a thin silver chain that wrapped around his neck

Sweaty bodies danced around him, loud music filling his ears as he made his way over to the couch. He allowed his body to fall back into the comfortable cushions, holding a red solo cup in one arm while draping the free one over his eyes and sighing. Had it been a good idea to attend knowing the two of you couldn’t be under the same roof? Was he overthinking? Maybe you didn’t come, or maybe you’d be busy somewhere else and he’d never run into you.

His thought process was interrupted by a sudden gust of a familiar, intoxicating scent. The warm vanilla aroma was enough to bring him right back to the night he was sitting next to you.  He instinctively opened his eyes, and as if they had a mind of their own, they scanned the room until they found you.

You had to be kidding him.

It seems you had fun with your outfit today. The dark, belt-like, denim mini skirt fits your plump ass perfectly, not too revealing, but leaving little to the imagination. Your black, cropped tube top hung low, showing off enough cleavage to make Jeongguk’s breath hitch. Gold jewelry was scattered throughout your body, from your earrings, down to the buckle of your black strappy heels.

Your enticing scent mixed with your alluring visuals were enough to make Jeongguk’s pants tighten up around him. Flustered with his body’s reaction, he cursed the alcohol for not kicking in sooner. The image of you was now sure to plague his mind for the rest of the week.

Eager to relieve his frustration, he stood up again and made his way to the game of spin the bottle his friends were playing. If it wasn’t with you tonight, it’d be someone else. He didn’t even bother looking at who was playing, needing someone to distract him immediately. 

Eyes fixated on the bottle, he waited until it was either his turn or it landed on him. But before he was given a chance to spin it for the first time, the bottle landed right in his direction.

“Hell no.” 

He recognized that voice too well, down to the tone in which you had spoken. The tone you always used on him when his mere presence worked you up. He followed the direction in which the other side of the bottle pointed towards.

“C’mon y/n, rules are rules” Jihyo laughed next to you, obviously instigating the situation.

“There’s no way I’m going into that closet with him, especially not for seven minutes are you crazy? He’s gonna accuse me of blowing someone again!” You threw your hands in annoyance, ready to re-spin the bottle before Taehyung’s hand stopped your own.

“If you know it wasn’t true, why do you still bring it up” Jeongguk spoke, earning everyone’s attention. He wouldn’t go weak, not now. His plan wasn’t to convince you to go with him, but it was a common occurrence for the both of you to fight for the last word.

“He’s right y/nnie, are you gonna pussy out now?” Taehyung teased her.

“I’ll fucking kill you, all of you” You got up, walking across the circle to lift Jeongguk by his arm and drag him towards the bedroom door, pushing him inside the closet. “I’ll start the timer” Jimin giggled from the living room.

It was a small space, not suitable to hang in, but roomy enough to sit with a reasonable distance between them. “Why’d you give in?” Jeongguk raised his brow, confused at your unusual silence towards him. “Because I’m not a coward, stupid.” You rolled your eyes. Despite the closet being dark, Jeongguk was able to see you perfectly. “We don’t actually have to do anything, just sit still and be quiet for the next seven minutes, think you can do that?” You turned to him.

Jeongguk nodded slowly, not in the mood to start a fight. If this were the most “quality time” he could get from you, he’d take it. Although, there was a slight problem.

“Do you think they’ll believe we did anything? They’ll call you a cheater if we come out the way we went in.” Jeongguk paused as you turned to look at him. “Not that I’d care, just thought you might.” He stared directly in front of him and heard you sigh.

Shortly after, he heard some shuffling from your side.

“Let me give you a hickey” You deadpanned, maintaining eye contact even after his eyes went wide. You were now propped up on your knees in front of him. 

“W-what?” He stuttered, taken aback by how casually you had just proposed the idea of sucking on his neck. How were you, someone who insulted him every chance you got, supposed to feel him up? Not that he was complaining, but you had to be joking.

“You’re right, they’ll get suspicious. You don’t have to say yes though, I guess” You sat back on your ass, cringing at yourself for being so straightforward.

“No, w-wait. It’s.. okay.. go.. um.. Go ahead” Jeongguk rambled, his brain already turning into mush at the thought of you being so close to him. 

You perked up at the sound of his permission, rising back up to your knees and maneuvering your way to straddle his lap. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t okay with your placement. Sure, you found the boy annoying, but you couldn’t help and be captivated by the way his thick thighs flexed underneath you. The sight of his veins was more prominent with the shadows of the setting you were in. With one hand on the back of his neck, and the other flush on his chest, you felt his hard pecks through the thin shirt. He slightly gasped at the new position.

“Better access” You shrugged, flipping your hair so it wouldn’t come in between your job. 

Jeongguk was stiff, awfully stiff due to the situation he was in. His hands were laid by his sides, planted on the floor as he felt your hot breath on his neck. He was okay with this, a little too okay, but his nerves were uncontrollable due to the proximity between the two of you. Without any warning, you latched your mouth onto his neck, earning a breathy moan from Jeongguk. 

“Are you a virgin, or what Jeon?” You smirked.

He wasn’t, everyone knew he wasn’t. He knew his way around casual hookups and one-night stands. Only on rare occasions though, not being a usual recurrence for him because of his reserved nature. Still, he was grown and had some experience in that field. However, how could he not react to your touch? The thought of you alone was able to make him grow hot in places only he’d know about.

Your hot tongue danced across the smooth skin of his neck, wetly sucking the spot that made his body twitch, letting you know it was his sweet spot. Hungrily nipping at his skin, quiet moans spilled through the part of his lips. You continued your actions until you felt like it had been enough to create a pretty bruise. Letting go, you blew cool air on the hot skin of his neck, causing goosebumps to form everywhere. 

"There we go, done!"

Just as you were about to peel your body from his, Jeongguk broke. He knew it wasn’t a part of the agreement to touch you, but his hands acted on their own as they formed a grip around your hips. He sharply pressed down, causing your skirt to ride up and inevitably connect your core to the rock-hard tent in his pants. He was now hot and bothered, feeling your teeth in his neck not being something for the weak.

You’d been too busy with his neck to realize how fucked out he’d become with the slightest touch. His lips were puffy, given how many times he had bitten down on them to prevent him from moaning. They had also grown swollen and pink, matching the flush of his cheeks due to the fluster. This only made your core ache, desperate to know what he’d look like after a night with you.

A hand reached over to his face, cupping his jaw, “Guess I was right at Jimin’s, you did wish it had been you, hm?” You teased, not quite knowing what had taken over you. The need to make a mess out of the boy who’d made your life hell for the past year had suddenly become your deepest desire. 

“Please” He whispered, doe eyes pleading for more of your touch. He was now putty in your hands, wanting nothing more than your touch, mouth on his neck left him wanting more. You decided to taunt him, not quite letting him get what he wants yet.

“Please what?” You cocked your head mockingly. He groaned in embarrassment, hiding his face in your neck.

“Use your words puppy, otherwise we’re done here.” You lied, secretly hoping he’d tell you to keep going. While you had no problem leaving him high and dry, that’d make two of you. Being able to feel Jeongguk’s hard cock dangerously close to your clit made your stomach heat up in excitement. With your sanity being long gone, you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to have him inside of you. His cock would slide up and down your tight walls, making him whimper at the sensation. The veins would simulate you in a way no other, causing your walls to contract around his thick length and milk him for all he’s worth. He’d keep going even after you’d both come, fucking himself stupid only to stare at the white ring forming around his cock as it disappeared inside of your wet pussy. 

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the boy beneath you finally spoke up, “Kiss me, p-please” He muttered into your neck, slowly raising his eyes to meet yours. “Good boy” You whispered, praising him for his compliance.

You stared at him for a while, gaze growing dark and breath going shallow as you crashed your lips into his. You let all of the hatred and anger you had stored for him, melt into hunger and passion. His grip on your hips grew tighter as your mouths hastily connected. His heart was about to beat out of his chest, warmth coating his entire body and hunger for you growing. With your tits flush against his chest, he was almost sure you could feel the beating of his heart.

Your hands traveled up to his hair, slightly pulling on his ponytail which earned you a gasp, allowing you to slide your tongue past his lips. You explored his mouth until he stopped you by softly sucking on your tongue, being as equally into this as you were. The kiss was frantic, two people who swore they hated each other, finally realizing what they’d been missing out on.

Jeongguk swore he was on cloud nine. Feeling your lips outside of his dreams was something he could get used to, and hoped he’d have the opportunity to do so. Your lips felt so plush against his mouth, tasting sweet like cotton candy. Your tongue worked his mouth so well, making his cock throb at the thought of how it’d feel down there.

You tugged on the ends of his shirt, asking for permission to remove it. He broke the kiss in response, allowing the two of you to catch your breath while you removed his shirt.

He felt shy under your stare, suddenly feeling the need to cover up. He’d been naked in front of girls before, but being with you right now made him incredibly vulnerable. He felt like giving himself to you, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to do to him. What he didn’t know, is that you were too busy drinking him up with your eyes. Arousal gushed out of your puffy pussy, creating a wet patch in your lace panties. His strong pecks and slim waist were enough for you to clench on nothing, desperate for him to fill you up.

“So pretty, all mine for tonight, yea?” Delicate fingertips grazed his abdomen, driving him crazy and desperate for your touch. 

“All yours, y-yours whenever..” He struggled with his words, still trying to get used to interacting with you in a way that was outside of arguing. Despite this, he fully meant what he said, and hoped you’d get the memo.

Wasting no time, you sloppily continued to kiss him, this time bringing your mouth down to his neck again. Wet, open-mouthed kisses coated Jeongguk’s skin, causing it to suddenly feel really sensitive. Your hand slowly trailed down his body, exploring new territory and taking advantage of the situation to feel him up wherever your heart desired. It wasn’t until you brushed one of your hands over his nipple, that he let out a particularly high-pitched whimper.

“Like that baby?” You teased, earning an eager nod and whine in response.

Using a free hand, you reached down to his length, giving it a firm squeeze before softly palming it. The heaviness felt satisfying in your hand, encouraging you to massage him while your mouth trailed lower, lips ghosting over his chest. You placed a kiss right above his brown bud, a short warning before swirling your tongue around it. Sucking on it, Jeongguk basked in the pleasure of the sight and sensation. You knew what you were doing, and that turned him on even more. It was your first time being so intimate with him, yet you seemed to know his weak spots like the back of your hand. 

“F-fuck y/n, need you, pleasee” He admitted, tears brimming his eyes while he sharply bucked up his hips into yours in search of friction.

Still sucking on his bud, you removed your hand from his clothed dick, moving it up to play with his unattended nipple. Giving an experimental roll of your hips, you were satisfied with how Jeongguk reacted, slightly choking on his spit from the friction on his cock. You kept bucking forward slowly until eventually setting a pace. Grinding down on his cock, you smeared the arousal that had leaked from your panties onto his jeans, making his head fall back. His breathing became quick at the newfound sensation. The material of his jeans rubbed his cock deliciously, in addition to feeling the warmth and dampness of your sweet cunt. 

“Just like that” He whined, matching your pace as your pussy repeatedly rubbed on his shaft.

“This is what you wanted the whole time wasn’t it? Just wanted me to make you cum, hm?” You pressed down your clit onto his tip, making him whimper pathetically. One of your hands traveled back to his head, tugging on his hair to make him face you.

“I- fuck” 

“Answer the question” You tightened your grip.

“Yes! Wanted you y/n, so, so bad- ahhh” He tapped on your thighs trying to get you to slow down.

“ ‘m gonna cum soon if y-you don’t stop” His actions contradicted his words as he instinctively rutted his hips harder into you, chasing his high.

“You wanted this baby, now take it.” You worked your knees against the floor, pushing into Jeongguk’s cock as much as possible to help him reach his high. At some point, you pressed down onto a spot on his tip that made him cry, only motivating you to press down harder. 

His lip trembled as fat tears fell from his eyes, mewling as his vision began to blur and ringing filled his ears. Your hands came up to his cheeks, wiping away at his evidence of mind-fucking pleasure. “Such a sensitive baby, cum for me Gukkie” You cooed, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten at his fucked out face.

With his high right around the corner, he feverishly bucked his hips into yours. His movements began to stutter as the coil in his stomach became undone, causing him to shoot his thick load into his pants with a loud wail. His body convulsed under yours as his orgasm made him shake uncontrollably. He chanted a string of curses with your name as you continued with your pace on his dick, loving how shamelessly vocal he was. He held onto your body tight, once again digging his head into the crook of your neck as he came down from his high, only now realizing he had cummed in his pants. 

You continued your movements until his lips formed a pout and his eyes became glossy again, “No more, too much..” He mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer as your hips stopped all movement. Feeling how soft the boy had grown under you, your hands soothingly rubbed his back and let him hold you for as long as he needed. “Did so well, Gukkie, so so well” you whispered and gently kissed the crown of his head. 

Once his breathing returned to normal, his head quickly shot up to come face to face with you. “Did you cum?” He questioned, eyes beginning to glitter with lust once more. “No, but it’s oka-” Your words were cut short by the sudden loss of contact, Jeongguk’s body quickly moving down to face your legs. 

“Jeongguk really, it’s okay. Don’t feel like you owe me.” You reached a hand down to caress his face which was now positioned dangerously close to your aching heat. 

“Don’t care, wan’ make you feel good too.” He kissed your thigh, slowly working his way up until he allowed his tongue to fall flat against your clothed core. The sweet taste of your damp panties left him craving more, wasting no time in pushing your panties aside before looking up at you for permission. 

“been a good boy, right?” He whimpered, blood rushing to his cock again at the sight of the meal in front of him, as well as your pretty, desperate face.

“Mhmm, my good boy” You whispered, using the hand on his face to slightly push him towards you, not having to use too much force as Jeongguk voluntarily dipped in, immediately getting to work. 

Safe to say, the timer had been long forgotten about.

A/N: I'd b lying if i said i didn't stall a wee bit to drop this loll feel free to leave feedback, I'm a new writer and always willing to do better <3

[ineffably-smote]

Macbeth, David Tennant - A very subjective, spoiler and emotion filled review

Just walking out of seing Macbeth at the Donmar and I have Feelings. Unsurprisingly, I primarily went to see it because David Tennant was in it. I love the play, big fan of Shakespeare but the trip to London was most certainly motivated by a very specific actor. Hence the highly subjective review. Fortunately, I also happen to quite like Macbeth. We studied it at school, and it holds a special place in my heart (back then, Hamlet was my favourite Shakespeare play but honestly, after tonight, I’m not so sure anymore. Anyway, I digress). It was my first time actually seeing an actor I’m a fan of in real life, so obviously the entire time my brain was just going oh my god that’s David Tennant oh my god that’s David Tennant like I actually could not comprehend it. The man I’ve spent hours staring at on a little screen is suddenly real, and right there. So yeah, that took me a hot second.

(Excuse the piss poor image quality, I took this with shaky hands without looking or bothering to focus the cam)

The Staging

Still starstruck and a bit dazed, one thing really really stood out to me: the staging. It was so, so good. I knew it was going to be minimal from the pictures I had seen, and it was, but it was also so insanely real. There were barely any decorations, and half the cast and the musicians were hidden behind a glass screen doing background noises and gestures. From where I was sitting I could not see them much, but could definitely hear them which added to the overall atmosphere. The stage was also really tiny, and the play benefitted incredibly from it. All the action was happening in one tight space that had been put to use incredibly well, particularly the banquet scene but I’ll come back to that because it deserves its own paragraph.

The way they chose to do the soliloquies was so fitting - all the actors start to move in slow motion - everyone else slowing down and just the characters speaking moving was so good, it made sense.

The Headphones

I’m a bit mixed about the headphones. They were amazing for the vibes, we could hear whispers and they really heightened some of the emotional speeches in the play - because when someone is struggling with guilt and trauma it makes sense for them to be mumbling rather than yelling. So that was really great. However, especially in the scenes where the actors where yelling/ loud I preferred to take them off a bit cause it felt more real that way. I’m so used to hearing actors voice on recordings, it does hit different when you can hear them for real. But, as I said, personal preference and that’s what’s nice, you can take them on and off as much as you want.

Famous Speeches

There were three speeches I was quite interested to see how they were going to be adapted - scorpions and dagger for Macbeth, and out damned spot for Lady Macbeth. These are classic, everyone knows the words, the plot but they managed to make it feel real in a new and touching way. I think here the headphones were quite helpful because they allowed the actors to actually whisper parts of those lines. They were so subtle, so embedded in the text they felt so natural which imbued them with all their power. I saw in a review Cush Jumbo’s out damned spot speech be described as “haunting”, and I wholeheartedly agree.

The Macbeths

I didn’t like Macbeth, the character, very much when I first learnt about him. His actions didn’t make sense to me, I couldn’t quite comprehend in my 21st century little brain how he went from I’m super loyal to the King to I will freely murder children for shits and giggles. But now, now I understand. It makes sense, it’s believable. And that’s a mix of the acting choices and teh overall setting. Like the opening scene, instead of presenting Macbeth as a glorious hero, he is presented to us as a traumatised hero. He spends the first few minutes washing the blood of his clothes, haunted by noises from the battlefield. And that sets the themes quite nicely, not ambition, as Tennant specified in an interview, but guilt and trauma. There are so many ways to interpret Shakespeare, that’s the beauty of it, and I think this version of Macbeth just resonated more with me (maybe because ambition I don’t quite understand but guilt I am intimately familiar with? Or maybe because it was David Tennant? I don’t know, probably a bit of both). Tennant delivers a convincing Macbeth. Yes, you can see his ambitions play out, but also his fears, his guilt, and that makes him into a complex three dimensional character that you want to understand.

And I absolutely loved this version of Lady Macbeth. Not just a powerful woman who bullies her husband into become an evil murderer (because again, here we can see traces of that in Macbeth from the start), but an ambition woman in love, with her husband, with power, and not quite healed from the trauma of loosing her child. Again another review said she is more of an enabler than a manipulator and I quite liked that description.

My Favourite Scenes

God the banquet scene. The one with the ghost of Banquo. An absolute masterpiece. I did not expect that scene to hit that hard. It was raw, it was powerful and even if Tennant was facing away from where I was sitting, even without seeing his face I could feel the emotion, the whole audience could. In a video essay on Tennant, @davidtennantgenderenvy highlighted how in almost every role he played, there is it is the classic Tennant breakdown moment, and breakdown moment it was. Not with tears, not as expressive as he sometime is but just enough for a King trying to hold it together but fear and guilt breaking through. I was absolutely overwhelmed and it was beautiful. The set up for the scene was amazing too - there were ceilidh, celebrations, I adored the contrast between these fast pasted scenes and guilt ridden whispers of the couple. And the way everyone sat down around the stage and suddenly it looked like a banquet table ? Just perfect.

Another really cool moment, less on the emotional side but more on the visuals was when Macbeth goes to get the second prophecy from the witches. Almost the whole cast is there, running around, moving, almost dancing and it gives the whole thing a mystical atmosphere. There’s smoke, Macbeth falls, is carried up high Jesus style, cowers, rises, it’s so busy and insane all the while there are whispers and whispers in the headphones - it manages perfectly to feel like a mystical moment.

Descent Into Madness & other cool things

For Macbeth, having the kid running around scene after scene, haunting him, and then scene where he kills him - GOD it’s powerful. Lady Macbeth’s descent into madness was so well characterised, I also loved the glass on the background that locked away some of the cast. Just wild. The actor that played Malcom actor was also really cool, and Macduff and Ross, big fan of all of them.

Overall I am overwhelmed with emotions. Tennant is truly one of my favourite actors - from Good Omens to Staged, Jessica Jones, even Harry Potter but also Mad to be Normal, Nativty, There She Goes, Around the World in 80 days, Doctor Who (god I’ve started a list, never start lists cause you’ll forget people) and so, so many more, I was truly beside myself with excitement and expectations for tonight. And it did not disappoint. I do not want to leave the theatre and I pray they release a recording of this because I want it imprinted on my soul.

(Side note: I don’t know how to use tumblr very well, for some reason whenever I try to reply to ppl it posts from my other blog? Anyway @raquel-and-sergio is in fact me)

[thetravelingtyper]

On the same page...(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader Bookshop! AU) pt 9

Late Friday morning sees book club, deliveries, and a surprising confession...

Chapter inspired by @glitterypirateduck 's Simon challenge!

Part 8, Part 10, Masterlist

Warnings! A little angst relating to a past relationship

AN As mentioned above this is inspired by the Simon 2024 writing challenge here! They mentioned it can be a part of a series and the prompts are just what I needed to do this chapter! Prompts used include: 2,8,20,27,80,95 (listed at the end to avoid spoilers lol they all go hand in hand)

-

Simon finally departs later Friday morning as the store opens later than normal due to the conversation. By the time you open the doors a few usuals are waiting with coffee from the close cafe. Simon presses a kiss to your temple before stepping out into the cold. You watch his form blend into the people on the street before turning your attention to the needs of your customers. 

Kyle lingers, talking with Sofia in easy conversation while the store fills with eager people. There is a thrum of excitement as people gather around as Sam starts an older book club in the open area where the chairs and coffee bar are located. Sofia and Kyle find themselves soon handed copies and you chuckle from the counter as they are pulled in. Kyle, like Johnny seems to be well-read and contributes well to the conversation. It soon drowns into background noise as you work the counter. 

 -

The conclusion of the book club is signaled by a steady stream of people leaving. A few familiar groups wave to you with easy smiles, each carrying a copy of the book provided in the sign-up for the session. You hear laughing and Sam approaches with Sofia and Kyle. The guys seem to be debating elements of the plot and Sofia passes them shaking her head.

“Endless debates these two.” 

“-I am just saying they could have extended the second act of the book a little more.”

“To what end There was enough development already, doing so would have cut the third short.”

Sam weights Kyle's response then nods with an,

“I guess you're right.”

Kyle grins as they make it to the counter. 

“Glad you see it.”

He turns to you with a smaller smile,

“It was nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“Likewise Kyle!.” 

He motions to set the book back on the counter but you mention for him to keep it.

“Consider it a gift.”

He nods in thanks and turns to leave before something catches his mind.

“Johnny invite you to the bar Saturday?”

You nod,

“I thought so, he was excited to introduce you to everyone. Anyways, have a good day!”

The three of you wave him out, a rush of cold air entering before the door is closed again. Sam has a residual smile on his face that makes you chuckle.

“He’s nice” Sofia comments as she gathers her things as well. You tilt your head,

“When will I see you again?”

She looks at her phone. With James coming there was a lot to prepare for the encounter, both mentally and physically. Mostly it was Sam’s family to prepare. When they had taken you under their wings they learned of the story, that alone souring their opinion of working with the American firm. But as you thought, and Sofia herself explained, this would be excellent publicity. Your books found success here but this would only expand that. 

“Sunday morning or afternoon. I am sure I’ll be pulled into a meeting with James’s team before I can make it here. I’ll keep you updated this time I promise. Have a good day you two.”

With that, she makes her way out of the store and into the cold leaving you and Sam at the counter. You come around to lean against it next to Sam. He watches you knowingly before wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you in for a side hug. 

“It'll be ok somehow I know it.”

You think of Simon for a moment, the comfort of his presence and the others you’d met. You smile then,

“Yeah, I think in the end it'll be fine.”

-

The rest of the day passes into early evening. Customers come and go as the weather remains overcast and drowsy. You stifle a yawn as the clock turns to 4:50. You and Sam decide to just have dinner in the shop and remain open until late to counteract the late morning. You make the announcement to the pleasure of the readers in the sitting area. The group of usuals, a few older ladies smile at you as you work to make tea. You hear the door chime and you call out a “be there in a moment.”

There is no reply and Sam is in the shelves currently assisting a customer so you turn the corner to be met with…sunflowers? 

Standing in the center of the entryway is a cold-looking woman in a suit holding a vase of not just regular but annual sunflowers. She looks around, seemingly in awe of the store before centering her attention on you. Her eyes light up in recognition and she calls your name in an American accent. 

“There you are, Ma’am! It was difficult navigating here.” The smile that lights up her face is genuine and you feel like you recognize her. Your mind flashes through the faces of your old firm and then, recognition. 

“Mary?” You ask in question as the door dings and Simon in a leather jacket enters holding a small box. Mary turns and startles a little at the man as you come forward to help her.

“These are for you!” She shakes off the surprise and moves forward to you, setting the vase gently into your quickly opened arms. The familiar smell brings back memories as you give a small smile at the bright petals before you look back at her. Mary was the assistant to the head of the children’s department and one of the few coworkers who had reached out to make sure you were ok. While you wouldn’t call her a friend she was easily an acquaintance. She smiles at you,

“Courtesy of us at the children's department. Sarah said they were your favorite and she is excited to see you but,” her smile straightens into a semi-sour look.

“I was asked to pass this along, I’m sorry I couldn't say no.” She pulls off her backpack, a leather thing more like an adventurer’s rucksack and you can’t help but huff a laugh at the combination with the suit. Mary sets the backpack down and opens it pulling out a box and something shielded by brown paper. She straightens with a disgruntled huff, that of a mandatory messenger, and holds out the items to reveal a jewelry box and a fresh cut and blooming white rose wrapped in paper to shield it from the cold. 

Your free hand goes to your mouth at the bloom, a sense of awe at its beauty but a nagging feeling gripping your heart. You look at her and ask,

“Is it?”

Mary nods and you bite your lip.

“He asked and I wasn’t in a position to say no, though I'd like to shove it…” She grumbles the last of it as you turn to set the sunflowers on the counter, before your back in front of her and gingerly take the items from her like glass. There is an envelope tucked into the paper with the rose you notice, a small elegant thing with a shimmering J.M. embossed on it in gold. The items feel like stone and you slump, not expecting nor wanting to deal with this. Nonetheless, you give Mary a tight smile and she returns it with downturned lips but she offers a smile after a thought.

“We’re rooting for you back home. Some of us considered transferring. If you decide to come home Ms. Williams would see to it you are transferred to somewhere good.”

You consider it for a moment, what if you could go home? That was a thought you file away as you feel a presence approach. Simon is at your side then, murmuring a hello and setting the small box down on the counter next to the sunflowers. He nods a greeting to Mary as she looks up at him and his closeness to you with curiosity. She is about to speak but checks her phone.

“I have got to run but it was good seeing you. Sarah will be in town by Monday for the tour.”

“Thank you for this.” You nod to the sunflowers with a smile and Mary nods before glancing once more to Simon and heading out into the evening. You stand for a moment in silence just looking at the rose and the box before sighing. Simon watches you move, minding the sunflowers to sit down on the stool behind the counter and gently setting down the wrapped rose and velvet box.  

Simon approaches the counter and watches you put your head in your hands in thought while you gaze at the rose. The meaning was not lost on you, your first book featured the language of flowers and James would match flowers to different days. A white rose while often meaning loyalty, can also symbolize new beginnings, Your heart curls and you feel tears threatening to well up. You thumb the rose while you pull the small envelope free and brace yourself. You swallow thickly before opening the envelope only to find a small piece of fine paper. You recognized it as something you had gifted James a long time ago for notes. It's what is written on it that makes your heart clench.

Written in beautiful looping cursive, one you know took his focus and full attention was a quote from your first book,

“...and at the end of things, the dragon dipped its mighty head,

“What a mess I have made.”

The queen looked up with a newfound grace and replied,

“All endings, no matter how dark, lead to new beginnings, you are forgiven.”

Could you ever forgive me, my Love? 

You pull back at the sound of footsteps as Sam finally approaches the counter and you look up to him with pained tears in your eyes. Sam freezes catching the initials on the discarded envelope before he grits his teeth, he is about to approach but he looks at the customer with a frown on his face. Sam sends a pleading look to Simon and the other man nods.

Simon rounds the counter to your side. In a gentle voice, he calls your name and you look up into the warmth welling in his eyes. His arms come around you and he murmurs,

“Let's get upstairs dovie.” 

You nod into his chest clutching the box and the note. As he backs off you stand and take a shaky step towards the open door. As you pass up the stairs Simon is your shadow, a hand bracing at your elbow. Reaching the top, Simon reaches past you to open the door. His chest brushes your back as you walk forward a little aimlessly. Taking point an arm wraps around you as Simon leads you to the couch and lets you sit quietly before taking the spot next to you. You just hold the note, reading the lines over and over again. With a shaking hand, you open the box, and on a silver chain, his, silver chain is your engagement bands. Your hand shakes as you grab the chain from the box, the note forgotten as it slips from your fingers.

-

As you leave with Sam, you pause, tears streaming down your face you as everything you had built over the years came tumbling apart. You step into the living area twisting your ring off and setting it down gently before walking out.

-

The silver glittered like a faded star in the warm light, Flashes of lights and the swirls of gemed color matching your dragons. You hold the chain as a life line just gazing into the past. Your heartbeat hammers as your mind clouds into static. As tears stream down you face a large hand comes over yours. 

-

“You need to mourn this, not just work!” Sam follows after you as you grab a handful of old writings and pace.

“Get out Sam!” You raise your voice and sanp at your best friend but he only crowds you,

“When will you cry?”

-

Simon’s other hand gently closes around the rings, you hear a voice but its a mumble against the static. A hand traces up your arm, coming to your wet cheek and turning your face to his. Pale skin, soft hair and his lips are moving, then your eyes trail up to his. Its tigerseye you think, the flecks of gold in his eyes, smoky quartz or moonstone and you are drawn to their light like a moth, the light dancing golden beads in his eyes. You hand relaxes then, dropping the rings into his palm as you slump into his chest and finally cry.

Simon’s other arm draws you close, his hand cusping the back of your neckas you cry into his shirt, shoulders shaking with sobs. His heart hurts then he realizes, hearing you cry. He grips the rings until his fingernails and the silver digging into his palm hurts. He lets you cry, sobs rattling your soul as you mourn what you had lost. 

Your home, your career, your love, your mind murmurs. What had you done but turn tail and run? Why didn’t you fight, gnash your teeth and bite back.  You heave. Then what was the ‘kindness’ of Sabrina, the gentle pecks and “everything is ok?” Your breathing pushes in to a panic. Why hadn’t you seen it? The distance, the call the…?

“Dovie” The voice is firm, but soft, and a gentle lift from the static as you blink in the hiccup of tears. You pull back and find tender eyes gazing down at you, Simon hums, feeling it vibrate through your chest,

“There you are Muse, I’m here” 

Simon’s voice is husky as his hand moves to hold your face gently as he brushes away a stray tear with his thumb. You gape up at him at the nickname, hushed by the gentleness with which he speaks. Tears trickle down your face as you breath deeply in and out your nose trying to catch your racing heart. As you look into his eyes, feeling the pain mould around your heart, you wonder why?

It tumbles out of your mouth then as a hot spark of anger ignites.Why? Why had this happened, why did you have to leave, why did he dare come, why break your heart? The hand clutching the rings moves then, you feel simon move his arm and set the rings gently aside on the table before his hand takes one of yours. Your train of thought derails at the contact as he connects your foreheads, eyes calling to yours. 

He looks at you with Everything, light reflecting like jewels as you can see yourself in his eyes and something hits you like a hurricane as you gape up at him. Who was he to look at you this way, more who were you to deserve it? New tears well up as you doubt yourself and you move to look away but simon speaks,

“Don’t hide Muse, not from me.” He murmurs it as he entertwines your fingers and gratefulness and something sweet bubbles up in your chest and you finally lean into him, savioring his warmth. He watches with relief as your eyes focus on him, finally out of your mind and back in the present. 

You whisper then, a question that has haunted you for the past few days, Why?  

Simon smiles then, small but steady, as he thinks himself, Why?

Flashes of your smile, you engrossed in a book a look of concentration on your face. Most of all though, your love for stories. How you give books to the kids, helping the parents calm the clamoring children. Another time he comes in Sam is running the counter and he turns the corner to a sigh that melts his heart.

You are holding a baby as a mother reads to her children, a soft song on your lips that dances through the air of the bookstore. Once the baby stops fussing you let the mother finish before passing her the little girl with a soft smile. 

Or the day he wandered in to find you hosting a crafting circle for a near by childrens center. Your sitting with a puppet in your hand, using it to guide the glitter usage of a group of children. As he slips into the shelves he smiles at your laughter.

Or maybe it was all Johnny’s fault. The affectionate scot who jabbered on and on about the friend, “a sweet lass who makes the best tea L.T.” Or “Steamin’ jesus Simon these blasted cookies.” Or maybe its was how you made him feel above the clouds, looking past the scars and mask and seeing the man underneath.

Everything here in the city led him to you, he thinks, before speaking,

“I want to be with you.” Before meeting your lips.

Chapter 9 end :)

Taglist!

@ghostlythots, @tapioca-milktea1978, @cmbghost, @nexthyperfix, @feedthefandoms995

#2 A confession is made

#9 Alternate universe

#20 Forehead touching

#27 Nickname - Muse

#80 Soft Simon my beloved

#95 Wipe away the other's tears

[fishuus]

i guess this is a rec list of stuff i liked in 2024?? no particular order, i just wanted to yak about some things i had a good time with.

bang brave bang bravern: maybe this isn't a legit comparison but i keep thinking of it as "what if samurai flamenco had a significantly tighter story (tomokazu sugita is also there)". if you like giant robots, you might like this. if you like a completely straight-faced commitment to the extremely funny bit of contrasting hard military scifi with the absurdity of classic giant robots, you might like this. if you're interested in sugita playing a robot who's a bottom, and also there's a lot of gay shit and the earnest power of true love, you might like this!

digimon story cyber sleuth & hacker's memory: a really fun set of turn-based jrpgs. cyber sleuth took me a while to warm up to (the localization could be better, to put it generously), but i came to enjoy its slightly offbeat sense of humor. hacker's memory, otoh, i loved from the start. it does a great job showing how cyber sleuth's story beats happened in parallel while still keeping the focus on a fantastic new cast and their own plotlines. the first game is a more standard digimon story about saving the world, while hacker's memory widens the perspective and shows a bit of the systems at play in the background. just a super satisfying game on every level for me.

shin godzilla: personally i love logging off work and my many meetings and watching a movie about a guy who has to go to even more meetings. i'm kidding, this was really fun (on account of all the meetings). i'll get to his kamen rider and ultraman movies too at some point.

gilgamesh (gardner & maier, also the david ferry version): paying my respects to the original yaoi 🫡

judgment: i wanted to try a rgg game without committing to playing 8 of them in order. turns out this is a perfect standalone game. it's such a tightly written story and character study, and it's really fun to play. kimutaku is so good at playing yagami so low-key, so tamped down, that when he explodes you really feel how angry he's been all along. the english cast is also great -- i enjoyed greg chun's take on yagami as well. (i played lost judgment too but wasn't quite so high on it. alas)

siren: watched sgf's excellent lp and loved this horror stealth game. the motion-capture work for the faces is a pretty cool workaround for the rendering limitations at the time while adding to the off-kilter vibe. i'm also a huge sucker for when studios lean into mixed media and use photos of real props (magazines, IDs in wallets, letters, etc) in their games. the story is kinda obtuse – and literally requires you to read extra official content to get some of the answers – but for something with such vague, stilted cutscenes with equally vague and stilted dialogue, especially with the added layer of a classic ps2-era english dub, i became attached to the entire cast stuck in this extremely bleak and scary scenario. i guess the best way i can sum it up is that it's a game that knows exactly how to play you.

digital devil saga 2: finished right before the world is actually set to end in 2025 in the game lol. it's so good!! i'm grateful that even after all this time, i managed to go into this mostly blind, because the way the plot reveal recontexualizes so much about the first game and the absolute rank relationship dynamics between some of the characters just blew me away. probably has some of my favorite character designs of all time, and i also think it's sooo fun to play thanks to my having turn-based long jrpg brain sickness. such an all-timer of a duology.

nine sols: i'm still not done with it on account of it being a parry-focused metroidvania and me sucking shit at both platforming and parrying, but it's great! it feels so confidently produced, kinda wild considering how different it is from their previous two games, devotion and detention (both of which i also highly recommend). the art and design work are beautiful, and i'm really enjoying how bleak the plot is. you can tell they made two horror games before this lol. i also love story mode. thank you, story mode.

風林火山韻雷 -bring it back-: lmao. anyway, it's a super fun song and mv that packs in everything i like about akyr (mixing traditional with modern both in the song and the imagery, high energy, everyone's great ofc but takayuki kondo especially killing it with that bridge, akyr making aggro songs about murdering their enemies).