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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to A New Form of Pleasure

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: There is something that happened between you and your superior, something that unlocked a new side to both of you that neither of you knew about, but Simon may not be as keen to accept it as you are. However, after a bit of silence on his part, a late night visit might just fix everything.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Quiet breathing is the only noise left in the room as both of your bare, glistening bodies lay exhausted in bed, wrapped in a euphoric haze as Simon’s hand draws lazy circles up and down your arm. He continues the pattern for several minutes until that high finally starts to subside and clarity comes rolling back in.

Your eyes scan the small room to find the solitary clock along the wall and seeing how late it is you make the decision that it’s time to head back to your own room. The night is waning faster than you thought and now that the problem has been fixed, you both should really get some sleep.

Without a word you crawl your way out from his side and begin the search for your clothes; you won’t make it far across base naked. Simon props himself up against the wall behind the head of his bed, one arm behind him like a headrest as those dark eyes follow you through the room collecting your clothes to get dressed. Strange thoughts are already swirling around in his mind now that it’s clear of his desire, but he keeps those thoughts locked tight behind his closed lips and just enjoys the sight of your body until those silky curves are once again hidden from his sight.

Your shirt is put on last and with that he too makes it out of bed and tosses on his sweats to walk with you the short distance to the door. “Till next time, yeah?” you say with a light chuckle, delaying the inevitable for a few seconds more so that the heat in your cheeks can die down.

Pulling you back against his warm chest with a strong arm wrapped around your waist, he places another grateful kiss to your lips and the moment you break apart he places his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispers in the space between your raw mouths.

“Anytime,” you say with eyes still closed. “Just say the word and I’m here to do this again.”

He moves back and you shoot him a bright smile as you reach for the door handle before you can talk yourself out of it and just like that you make your way out into the night. His eyes stay on you until he can’t make out your form in the darkness anymore and only then does he head back inside with a question pressing to the forefront of his thoughts.

What the hell has he gotten himself into now?

Days pass in normal fashion, but Simon doesn’t speak a peep about that night; there’s no requests for more encounters, no mentions of how good it was, nothing. You find it odd after all the intensity you had both shared, after the way he had told you how much he really wanted you to make him beg, that all of a sudden it would just be radio silence from him. Perhaps it would just remain a secret that you would share or maybe… maybe he thinks it was a mistake.

Whatever the case you keep it to yourself and things around the base return to the usual standard of monotony that day to day life brings whenever there are no missions scheduled. The only thing that keeps you from over thinking too much is the fact that Simon addresses you as he always has, but you can feel some space between you that hadn’t been there before and it puts a sour taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to shake.

More days pass in this confusing limbo, more nights spent alone in your bed without that thrill of making your superior cum again and now you’re frustrated. It wasn’t just Simon that got opened to something new, you did too and you liked it. Now it’s just over and tonight you’ve just about had it.

“I guess I better just get used to it,” you mutter to yourself as you roll over to turn out the lamp to at least try and get some rest.

You aren’t certain how long you’ve been asleep, but something suddenly breaks you out of your slumber. In your sleepy haze you aren’t entirely sure it’s actually anything until it happens again. Tap, tap, tap. Someone is knocking at your door and it’s getting louder and more frantic. It’s late, much later than having random company would allow and curiosity has you in its grip as you bound out of bed.

“One second,” you call out as you quickly flick on the lamp and blink a few times to adjust to the light.

Another round of knocks ring out and you grab a jacket you have lying about close by to cover your tank top and panties well enough to greet whoever it is on the other side as it’s clear you won’t be able to get fully dressed; must be urgent the way the person doesn’t even seem to react to your message. Quickly you grab for the handle and turn the knob, ready to find out what’s so pressing that you would be disturbed this late.

You open the door barely a crack and there, standing close to the frame, is the hulking form of the lieutenant. His random presence catches you off guard; he is the last person you’d expect to see right now with no previous warning. What the hell is he doing here? Silly question, but you don’t want to assume even though you are quick to pick up on a few signs.

His attention falls to you as he finishes surveying the area around him and those eyes immediately find yours looking up into his balaclava-masked face. You notice something strange in his gaze… like he’s nervous. The sweats he’s currently wearing look as if they’ve been thrown on in a hurry and he isn’t even wearing a shirt, it’s just his dog tags that are over his bare chest. It’s like he’s bolted all the way over here the way he breathes in laborious, heavy draws.

“Bit late don’t you think?” you say, trying to ascertain from his demeanor what the agenda for this visit is. “Can I help you lieutenant?”

Simon clears his throat. “We need ta talk,” he says, ignoring the snide way you utter his title as he rushes to finish speaking as if he doesn’t have the time. “Are ya gonna fuckin’ let me in?”

“I don’t know if I should…” you counter, your sleepy state making it hard to hide how annoyed you are at his sudden appearance.

He knows he deserves it, but he is desperate to get in. “Please,” he pushes; it’s not a word he uses often.

You detect that hint of desperation in his tone and unable to stop yourself you silently fling open the door enough that he can pass by you to get in. Without another word shared between you both he quickly steps inside as you poke your head out. The hallway is quiet, everyone else still asleep for the night. No personnel can be seen moving about which leads you to believe this isn’t a business call… at least that’s what you hope.

You close the door and set the lock out of habit, but as you go to turn around your pithy words about how he better have a good reason to wake you up in the dead of night die on your tongue as you are suddenly forced back first onto the surface of the door and pinned with by two large, rough hands on your hips as bulky muscles press against your stomach. The action is so fast it leaves your mind reeling and grasping for understanding.

“Again,” he growls in a huff, his face inches from yours. “Need it again.”

Simon’s breath is warm as it wafts over your features and you realize his balaclava is already discarded haphazardly on your floor; there is no barrier that now exists between you. The parts of his skin that make contact with your body through your clothing are feverish to the touch; it’s like he’s on fire.

His hands on your hips grip into the muscle harder as he speaks. “Need ya ta make me come again,” he groans, his lips getting closer as he tries to hold back long enough to have this conversation. “Like ya did last time. Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it.”

“Can’t get off alone again, so you’ve come crawling back to me? Is that it?” you ask, followed by an irked chuckle as you try to steady your breathing, hoping he can’t tell how flustered that little move just made you. He doesn’t get that luxury, at least not yet.

Simon shakes his head slowly. “I’s not that,” he replies, quieting his voice.

“Then what?” You stare back, waiting for his reply.

Simon licks at his bottom lip. “I’s not just ‘bout comin’... I want you, the way ya fuckin’ do it and I’ll do anythin’ ya tell me to jus’ ta have it like that again.”

His needy words stir something inside you, making you feel that boldness you did that night this happened the first time. How could you say no to a request like that? But you can’t just let all that silence that built between you both in the days since that night pass without saying something.

“Care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring the subject then? I thought we had something going last time and ever since you’ve acted like nothing happened. You made me think we were actually gonna keep this up.”

He pauses a moment as he thinks about how best to answer. “I… like tha fuckin’ power ya seem ta have over me,” he admits finally. He knows he’s fucked up and if this has any chance of going anywhere tonight he is going to have to be honest. “Not used to enjoyin’ somethin’ like that and once the pleasure subsided I got self-conscious ‘bout it. I shoulda said somethin’ to ya sooner. I’m not exactly tha best at tryin’ new things.”

Dammit, that’s actually a reasonable excuse. And, of course, you’re already forgiving him. Fuck. “I guess I can understand that,” you admit as he ever so subtly brushes his lips over your own, which doesn’t help you in staying mad at him. “But how do I know you’re not gonna just pull this shit again, hmm? That we’re not gonna keep playing this game where I give you what you need and then you just ignore me till you need it again? Cause guess what, I got needs too you know.”

Releasing one of your hips, his rough fingers come up to mess with the zipper on your jacket as he lets his confession linger in the air a moment until he pushes the edges of your open coat back to see the skimpy bits of clothing you have underneath and his breath hitches. Barely anything on; god damn he is starving.

Simon’s dark eyes meet yours one for a split second before he breaks the short distance between your faces to catch your lips in a desperate and heated kiss that you cannot help but reciprocate with the same intensity. It’s not exactly the answer you wanted, but in this moment it isn’t half bad and all that frustration melts away as your mouths dance in feverish bursts until finally Simon breaks the kiss.

He inhales a shuddered breath. “Because ya got me in a fuckin’ chokehold, luv.”

You swallow hard to collect yourself; you have been waiting for this chance to spread your dominant wings again and now is not the time to get swept up in his overwhelming desire, not if you want to do this right; you need to keep your head.

“Well, then that was a good first start, but I’m gonna need a bit more before I can really forgive you.”

Those coffee eyes drift back up from your flushed lips to your face. “I wanna make this right. I’m at your fuckin’ mercy.”

The dog tags around his neck clank together as he shifts his stance and the sound causes a reaction that makes your hand gravitate to them without even thinking. Your fingers find the chain wrapped around his neck and slip around it, pulling it towards you to grip it tightly in your fist, and tug hard.

The action is unexpected and even though it takes Simon by surprise he cannot help moaning deep and guttural at the feeling of the chain tightening around his throat in such a delicious way. This is why he knew he had to come to you tonight, you are full of surprises and he was doing himself a disservice by staying away.

His reaction is evidence that you’re onto something and you decide to run with it. “Then you best be obedient and get down on your knees,” you whisper into the intimate space between your mouths.

You wrap the chain around your fingers again to make it tighter around his neck and give the tags another hard jerk downward now. That hulking man doesn’t hesitate to follow your direction, slipping out of his shoes and lowering himself to the ground right at your feet like a dog waiting for a treat.

God, it already feels good to be back in this headspace again, he thinks and your thoughts match the same without either of you knowing.

With your free hand, you wiggle your arm until the sleeve of your jacket slips down and you can pull your arm out of it before you switch the chain to the other hand and do the same to the other side. The clothing falls around your feet and there you stand in almost nothing.

Simon’s eyes are immediately drawn to your clothed pussy, but you need him to pay attention and so you jerk the chain. “Eh, eyes up on me. I need you to look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Dark eyes snap back to your face and you smirk. “There you go,” you praise him before issuing your first of many demands. “Now, I want you to listen carefully. You are going to take off my panties… with your teeth.”

Again he immediately follows your order, holding his hands together behind his back to prevent them from getting involved and he leans in to place his lips against your lower abdomen as his teeth latch onto the waistband of your panties. Simon looks up just for a second to see how you tower over him with his makeshift leash wrapped around your delicate fingers.

God, you look so fucking good.

It makes him feel small for the first time since he was a kid. His body feels like it is vibrating at a new frequency now as he drags that small piece of fabric off your hips and down the length of your legs, excitement and ecstasy flooding through him at a rapid pace so that his heartbeat is pounding dangerously fast.

“That tongue of yours is going to have to do a little more forgiving,” you say as he reaches your ankles, his mouth still clinging to that delicate bit of fabric, his face in the floor as he waits for you to step out of them so that he can sit back upright with his prize between his lips.

That’s all the context he needs to know what’s coming and his heartbeat leaps excitedly in his chest at the prospect of having his face buried between your legs. You can see the look in his eyes as he drops the undergarment from his mouth and lets it fall down to the floor between his knees; so eager to please in that aspect, but this isn’t for him, it’s for you.

You chuckle at his electric enthusiasm that you can feel coursing from him as you place your hand at the back of his head. “Don’t get too excited now, you better be sure I can feel just how sorry you are,” you say as you push his head in towards your body, struggling to hide the way your breathing hitches as he gets in close and his balmy lips make contact with the skin on your abdomen.

His lips are already on the move the moment they touch down and he trails them to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg.

Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and in a flash he is smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier, adjusting the chain in your hand so you don’t lose it. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip.

There is little oxygen to be had from the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft gasp as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up for air. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, he writes his apology all over your cunt until the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured washes away the rest of your annoyance at him.

He is relentless in his endeavor, putting his all into eating you out like a goddess deserves. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you can barely contain yourself, but you continue to hang on. There is still more work to be done to him and as good as this feels you cannot let it derail your objective.

You raise your hand to the top of his head. “Who do you belong to Simon?” you ask through a moan as you pet over his scalp and through his short hair. “I’m going to need you to say it, out loud, so that I know you aren’t going to stray away from me again. Say it, say you’re mine.”

Simon pulls away from you swiftly. “I’m yours,” he says against your pussy.

You can feel his warm breath on your lips. “Again,” you push for another answer.

His fingers dig into your thighs. “I am yours, sweetheart.”

“Good boy,” you praise and you can feel him shiver against the palm of your hand still resting over the crown of his head.

That military officer eats you out as if he is a man starved, his aggression in taking all he can from you making you lose it fast and you scramble as he goes to come up with what comes next. You hadn’t forgotten his words from the last encounter, how he wanted you to make him beg, and you know that this isn’t the way to make that happen; he would clearly love to drown in you forever and be happy to do it.

The more that pressure that builds at the base of your spine, the less time you have to claw through the haze to create a plan, but as you look up from the top of his head bobbing between your legs your sight lands on your bed and like being struck with lightning, your mind materializes a single image of him tied down, arms outstretched with you on top of him and you know what you want to do.

Calmly you try to pull him from you. “That’s enough,” you coax, but he digs his fingers in harder to your hips.

“Wanna make ya cum,” he groans into your body, but you pull him from you by contorting the chain and taking a step back to get out of his immediate way.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you say with a smirk as you look down into his face to see the lower half glimmering with your slick and his saliva. “It’s time to move on to the next part. Go get on the bed and lay down on your back up by the head… and don’t make me tell you again.”

Wiping the wet mixture from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, he gets to his feet and heads to the bed just as you directed. You have to do this on the fly since you haven’t had any time to prepare, but thankfully your pack of gear isn’t far and making your way to it, you dive into one of your duffel bags. It takes you a minute, but finally your hand makes purchase with what you are searching for and you pull out a bundle of military issue rope.

“Arms out,” you direct him as you make your way back over to the bed. “I know someone likes to get handsy, so we’re gonna take care of that.”

His eyes stay glued to your movements as you bind his wrists and strap them down to the legs under your bed. It’s a good thing you did because as soon as you finish you stand at the foot and remove your tank top agonizingly slowly, letting your breasts bounce as they fall out and you can see the way his pupils dilate; you know he is itching to get his hands on you again. His sweats start to tent even more than they had from the pleasure of being face-deep in your pussy as you stand there completely naked like the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen.

Are you a devil, an angel? Whatever you are, he cannot get enough.

Like a lioness stalking through the grass, you slink onto the bed on all fours, moving until you are over top of his legs where you finally stop and your fingers brush across his stomach as you grab at the waistband of his pants. “Lift your hips,” you command and he does.

You pull them down and off his legs and you can see his cock is already pulsing at attention as it springs free from its cage. Fuck, he’s so hard already he can barely see straight and he has to clench his fists tight and take a few deep breaths to calm himself as he waits for further instruction.

Using the pad of your pointer finger, you lightly brush it over his tip and watch as he almost levitates off the bed as he groans. You wait until he has settled back down before you decide to speak, the smile on your face unable to be contained; oh, he is going to be begging alright, once you’re done with him.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do… we are going to play a little game. I want just the tip inside me, that’s it. And you’re going to lay there and let me warm it for a bit. If you can last till I say then I’ll let you fuck me however you want.”

You lean over him to grab his chin firmly in your hand. “Do you understand?”

Simon struggles to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head as your skin brushes against him. Fuck, why did he wait so long for this? “Yes,” he says.

That drugged look in his eyes, you can’t get enough of it. “Yes, what?”

Crap, what should he say? You are waiting for his reply, but his mind is already gone. Luckily the soldier in him takes over. “Yes, sergeant, understood.”

That’ll do. “You’re even better at this than you were last time,” you praise, releasing his chin to position your body over top of him, using his chest as leverage, and you can tell he is holding his breath as you grab his cock to place the head right at your entrance.

“Aww, baby, you better breathe cause we’re going to be here a while,” you say and lower your hips to take the tip inside the threshold of your wet cunt.

Simon is now in a battle with internal demons as he fights himself not to cum from this small bit of insertion, his cock is throbbing something fierce as your body puts the tip in a chokehold. You aren’t faring any better as he stretches you out; all you want is to lower yourself on it all the way, but you push that feeling down and incline yourself forward so you won’t be tempted.

The heartbeat coming up through your palms pressed into his chest is thunderous and you can’t help but smile as you count the strikes to calm down. “There we go,” you say after a moment. “See, you’re already doing so well Si. If you keep this up you’re gonna get what you want, to fuck the shit out of me.”

Minutes pass, but the time passes so incredibly slowly that it feels like hours to the lieutenant. He’d been in all types of high stress situations in his career, but nothing had ever been more overwhelming than having to rest just barely inside you without letting that animalistic part of himself take over to thrust up into you until you both cum.

Sweat starts to gather on his bare chest the longer this goes, a product of the conflict raging inside, and it rolls down in shimmering beads over the curves of his muscles, through the hair covering his chest and abdomen, all the way past his belly button.

You can tell Simon is losing the war with himself to stay still as he unintentionally tries to buck his hips up into you, but he can’t get any purchase as you raise yourself up off him. “Ah, ah, ah, the more you struggle, the less you get,” you tease. “I said just the tip and I meant it. Now, be a good boy and stay still; we’re almost done. You don’t want to lose it right at the end, do you?”

The need is killing him and he can hardly see straight anymore. He wants, no he needs to be deep inside you, but he can’t. You won’t let him. Instead his eyes fixate on something else, anything to give him the strength to survive.

“See something you like?” you ask with a coy smile spread across your lips. “I can see how hard you’re focusing on my nipples.”

“Need ‘em… in my mouth…” he stammers out.

“Then stay still and maybe I’ll let you suck them.”

Forcing himself not to move an inch, he becomes like stone even as his muscles twitch and you move your upper body towards him just enough so that he can lean his head in and capture one of your breasts in his hot mouth.

The moan he lets out in relief is intoxicating, matching the way you feel in between his lips. His suction is strong, pulling as much of the soft, supple tissue into his mouth that he can until breathing becomes nearly impossible.

“You like that?” you ask in a groan of pleasure and he nods enthusiastically.

There’s a light pop as he unsuctions his lips from around the first breast to get at the other one, pulling it into his mouth with just as much enthusiasm as the first one. Your distraction is working a little too well, but on you now and it isn’t long before it’s going to make you break.

You need to end this soon.

“How bad do you want to fuck me now?” you ask, grinding on his tip as you push on his chin to remove him from your nipple so he can at least try and answer.

There is a hazy quality to his eyes now that reminds you of someone after a night out of heavy drinking. He can barely speak as he feels your slick start to drip down his shaft, but he swallows to gather the strength to create a simple sentence. “So fuckin’ bad.” The words feel too cumbersome in his mouth.

“You want me to untie you so you can take me?” you ask, your tone still cocky even as you yourself are falling apart.

“Please,” he grunts.

“Yeah, you gonna ruin this tight pussy? You gonna rail me so hard I can’t walk after?”

You risk lowering down a bit more onto his shaft and he has to bite the inside of his lip in order to answer. “Gonna ruin you.”

“Then you know what you have to do, Simon. You said it yourself last time and I am going to hold you to it.”

You rotate your hips as you squeeze so that your walls clamp down on him and he chokes on his own saliva as he strains to stay still. His cock is so sensitive he’s sure by now that a little breeze would make him blow his load, but that’s not how he wants it to happen. He’s come this far, the only way he wants to go out is from fucking you.

One more rotation and you stay still to give him a moment to recover; you need his fervent participation for this next part. “ Simon,” you say his name to make him focus on your face again, “beg.”

You’re not gonna go easy on him; that’s just what he wants. “Please,” he says in a whimper, his voice the most meek you’ve ever heard it. It surprises even him that he can sound so pathetic after all the years he’s been the dominant one. “Please, luv, I need ta fuck ya. I’m beggin’ ya luv, please. I’ll… I’ll… I’ll be your good boy. Whateva ya want me ta say, I’ll fuckin’ say it; whateva ya want me ta do, I’ll fuckin’ do it. Jus’ want ta be good for ya so we both can fuckin’ cum.”

“And you’re not gonna pull away from me again?” you ask. “Not gonna deny yourself this type of pleasure from now on?”

“I swear it,” he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I’m yours, I belong to ya.”

A smile spreads across your lips and fills the features of your face. “Good boy,” you praise as you raise yourself off his body amongst his agonized grunts of displeasure. You move closer to the first wrist to undo the restraint. “That was better than I could have imagined, Simon. I think you’ve more than earned your turn now.”

The tie on his second wrist hasn’t even slipped off the bed before you are forcefully grabbed by the waist and flung onto your back as Simon rips your legs apart and clambers his hulking body in between your thighs. He looks down and sees the effect your teasing has had on you too as the lips of your pussy are covered with your arousal.

What a pretty fucking sight.

But there’s something he’s been thinking of since you grabbed his dog tags back at the start of all this, one last thing he wants you to do as he pounds you into the mattress. Grabbing both of your arms by the wrists he wrenches them up so that your hands are near his neck. He releases them from his grasp and uses his own hands to encircle yours around his throat.

“Squeeze, hard,” he growls as he leans in to capture your lips and you apply ample pressure to the sides of his neck.

It’s like flicking on a switch and his kisses turn rough and intense in a second so that he is devouring your mouth with everything he has, shoving his tongue to the back of your mouth until you are so full of him just as you will be down below in only a few more seconds time. A low groan vibrates in his throat against your palms before spilling onto your tongue.

“Mmm, gonna fuck the shit outta ya now, luv,” he gasps between the embraces of your mouths.

God, yes, please. “Then give it to me, baby,” you purr as you keep your hands firmly around his neck. “That’s it, get your prize.”

Simon pushes your thighs back towards your chest as he aligns the head of his throbbing cock with your moist entrance and you can no longer hold back how much you need him in you, inching your hips forward as you try to force him inside. Is it desperate? Yes. Is it needy? Yes. Do you fucking care? Not even in the slightest.

He’s the one to chuckle now. “Christ, you’re gonna be tha death ‘a me and I’m gonna die fuckin’ happy as hell.” With that he pushes through the threshold and down the length of his thick shaft, bottoming out all the way inside.

After all that stimulation, being smothered in your tight, wet cunt is almost too much for his sanity to handle. Just entering you he is already seeing stars. What’s going to happen when he actually comes?

The first of his movements comes swift and hard; there is no more time for being gentle, not with the way both of your bodies are in agony for release. Your poor, government issued mattress can hardly withstand the power of his desperate thrusts as he slams them forcefully into you, each one causing the springs to creak and groan loudly until it is echoing off the walls.

You open your mouth, pushing yourself to keep in control even as he is shoving his cock so far into you, you swear you can feel it in your stomach. “That’s it, give it to me Simon. Fuck, I love the way you stretch me out.”

The sloppy sounds of your drenched pussy being penetrated so aggressively grow louder and louder the more he ruts into you at that relentless pace. He pushes your legs back farther against your chest to open you up even more, needing to get as deep as humanly possible. There is only one thing left in his feeble mind now: to make you both cum and cum hard.

You let out a moan as your body shakes up and down with each thrust and squeeze so that you tighten around him and it makes his thrusting falter, breaking his rhythm for a moment.

“Bloody hell, jus’ like that… fuck…”

His words fuel you to do it again and he groans. “Yeah? You like that?” you ask breathlessly and he nods.

“That’s what you do to me Simon,” you continue. “No one makes me feel like you do.”

You compress around him again and his body jolts. “God, you’re gonna make me cum. It feels so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

“I want you to cum, Si. Cum for me. I need it so fucking bad; I’ve been waiting so long to make it happen again.”

Just the thought of making him fall apart again is a stimulant in itself and all that pressure that had been previously built is quickly coming to a head, that warmth in your belly glowing through you with more intensity now. That look of euphoria must be plastered all over your face for him to see because he is focused in on you even harder at making sure his strokes are more even.

“You first,” Simon grunts. “And don’t fuckin’ hold back.”

He is fighting tooth and nail to hold on for just a little bit longer; he knows you can’t be far off. Then he sees your toes curling into the air at his sides and he instinctively knows that each thrust is hitting its mark precisely as it’s meant to, your body giving in to all the pleasure it needs to be satisfied. A few more pumps and there it is, just like that everything comes to a head with a shudder as your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as your core flutters around his cock.

You place your hand over his gripped around your thigh and he laces his fingers in between the spaces in your own, holding onto you for dear life as you coax him with shaky words. “Let go, baby. That’s it.”

He isn’t far behind and it doesn’t take many more strong thrusts until the warmth that had been tirelessly overwhelming his body all night finally shoots through his body while he releases a loud moan, the euphoria coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he rips his cock out and you reach between your legs to take it in your free hand to stroke it over your stomach. His warm load shoots out in short bursts, coating the skin on your abdomen in his cum.

“You did so good for me, Simon,” you sweetly praise in repeat as you work his cock until he has to tap your hand to get you to stop.

His limbs are shaking from the comedown as he breathes in deep, his body spent, his mind completely blank in his state of ecstasy, and he releases your legs to tumble down beside you exhausted. A few minutes pass silently in that high until he can collect himself enough to speak again.

With his palm against your cheek, he turns your head to face him. “If I ever do somethin’ as stupid as tryin’ to stay away from ya again, ya ‘ave my permission to fuckin’ deck me,” he says with a laugh before scooching in closer to your face to place a kiss to your lips.

“That’s not gonna happen,” you say against his mouth, “ cause you said it yourself Si, you’re mine now. And you would never deny me what’s mine, would you?”

Another kiss placed to your lips, this one lingering a bit. “Never,” he says finally.

Good, you think, cause I will fucking deck you.

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m00nlight-ramblings · 11 months ago

Text

Touch Me

Repulsed by touch due to years of trauma, Astarion now wears gloves in his every day life. But once he starts to adventure with you, he slowly starts to rebuild his trust in others, when one night, he can't bare to not touch you any longer.

Pairings: Astarion x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, light discussion of trauma, swearing, fluff. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

Requested: yes

A/N: Okay so I got carried away with this one lol. Happy to be back writing some good ole BG3 smut teehee. Graphic made by me, I don't give permission for my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my consent.

You hadn’t really noticed Astarion’s gloves before, for the first few days of adventuring. You figured that they were just for defense, to help keep his body safe in combat along the journey. You were also far too busy trying to figure out the whole tadpole-in-your-brain problem, along with the myriad of enemies seemingly popping out of nowhere, to be concerned with your camp companions’ fashion senses.

But one evening, when you were headed to the nearby creek to quickly wash yourself in a moment of calm, you stumbled upon a rock, covered in familiar looking clothing.

Astarion’s clothing.

His gloves laid on top of the bundle of clothes, the brown leather muted in the soft moonlight. You paused for a moment and turned to look out into the deep creek, and not even five feet away, Astarion stood.

You realized he was fully nude so you shrieked and turned around. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here!” You apologized profusely. You heard Astarion gasp behind you and the motion of water, feet padding over to the rock. Clothes started to shuffle and you heard Astarion murmur under his breath.

“…completely nude, as if my clothes on the rock weren’t a dead giveaway that I would be naked! Trying to bathe and have peace and quiet for one second this entire journey…”

“Look, I said I was sorry-” Without thinking you turned, but luckily Astarion was fully clothed, except for his gloves. He seemed more concerned with fixing his outfit than what you were saying, so you gently reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention. “I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t see anything, anyway-”

The second your fingers touched Astarion’s wrist, he shouted, ripping his arm back as if you had just shocked him.

“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed, his voice dark. It scared you for a moment and you stood absolutely still, silence hanging between you. Astarion didn’t even look at you, just down at his wrist, as if he had been burned.

“What…I’m sorry? Did something happen-”

“Just…don’t touch me,” His cool demeanor was back as he gracefully slid the gloves on, “Alright? Just…don’t.” He had finally looked up at you, his ruby eyes shimmering. His expression was unreadable, but you nodded slowly.

“Alright…I won’t.”

You stared at him for a bit longer, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Was it…fear? Rage? You weren’t quite sure…all you knew was that without meaning to, you had somehow crossed a boundary with Astarion, who was already like a vault.

Without another word, Astarion walked back to camp. You sighed heavily and eventually bathed, but the entire encounter was so odd that you didn’t quite know how to move forward with it.

The next morning, while the sun was still rising, Astarion found you by the campfire as you cooked your breakfast. Uncomfortably clearing his throat behind you, he seemed a bit sheepish. Wringing his wrists (clad in the gloves), he shifted the weight on his feet in his graceful, Astarion way.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” He asked. Nodding, you stood, wiping off your pants. Astarion stared at you for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. It was increasingly apparent that he didn’t know how to start the conversation, but you waited patiently, afraid you’d somehow set him off again.

“I…want to apologize for last night,” He eventually said, “The whole…situation…with my gloves, I mean. I…” He sighed, searching for words, “I have a hard time with touch. I have for a bit…because of my past with Cazador. When I woke up, thrown from that Nautiloid, I realized gloves made me feel better because I technically don’t have to touch someone when I…well, when I touch them. And since I was no longer under Cazador’s thumb, I snagged the first pair I could find off of…well…some poor dead body on the beach and it’s been better ever since.”

Taking in what he was saying, you nodded, staying quiet. “So…you wear gloves. Because you don’t like touch.”

“Quite frankly, I’m repulsed by touch,” He calmly replied, throwing a hand back, “200 years in a body that I had no control over will do that to you, I suppose.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” You said plainly, forking a piece of pork belly into your mouth.

Astarion tilted his head, confused. “It does?”

“Yes. I mean…I believe you, and everything.”

“You do.” He stated, but it sounded like more of a question, like he didn’t understand.

Shrugging, you nodded, “Cazador forced you to use your body against your will to do his tidings, and now that you have the ability to act for your own for the first time in a very long time, you realize that there are boundaries that make you feel more comfortable. It makes perfect sense.”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. “Well…look at you. Knowing so much about me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” You smiled and pat his shoulder gently, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand…and will be aware of it.” You go to walk away, but turn and look at Astarion, “I know what you’ve been through was unbelievably awful, so you don’t have to…but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”

Astarion stood, frozen. He nodded so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.

“Thank you.” He eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on the ground. In a flash, he was striding towards his tent, his hands behind his back, as if the conversation never happened. Watching him walk to his tent, you shook his head.

You knew Astarion was full of secrets, but you weren’t quite sure how deep those secrets went.

The following weeks had tore through your body harder than any training you had been through. Every night when you went to bed, it seemed like a body part you didn’t even know you had was aching.

Currently, you were a little way away from camp, leaning against a tree, trying to get any semblance of reprieve that you could. Your eyes were closed, but you were nowhere near sleep, as the crickets chirped around you.

“Darling?” Astarion’s voice called out gently. You waved your hand in the air so he could track you down.

“Over here.” You mumbled, your arm feeling like it was 600 pounds. You brought it back down to your side and sighed heavily. Suddenly, you smelled chicken. Opening your eyes slowly, you saw a plate of food in front of you. You followed the arm holding the food and saw that Astarion had knelt beside you, presenting the food.

“Dinner,” He spoke plainly, “Gale just finished cooking. I thought you could use some help since your ass was devilishly kicked by those goblins earlier today, so I brought dinner to you while you were resting.” He smirked as you took the plate of food, barking out a laugh.

“Funny that you just had to bring up the fact that I didn’t perform my best today.” You started to slowly bring the food to your mouth, the taste melting on your tongue. You moaned softly in pleasure – he never shut up, but gods, Gale cooked a good meal.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t perform my best, either.” Astarion sat beside you now, his back resting against the large tree. He sighed as well, leaning his head back.

In the past few weeks, ever since the evening you had accidentally touched his wrist, you two had become closer. You were the only one to know his secret, a vulnerable piece of the Astarion puzzle. He trusted you to keep his secrets safe, and you did – like you had said, that’s what friends were for.

You ate in a comfortable silence as Astarion stared up at the moon, his face gleaming in the soft glow. Though you two were friends, he was undeniably handsome – you found yourself looking at him longer than necessary, butterflies popping up in your stomach when he would come into your tent to just converse, or when he was next to you in battle. You didn’t know when it started to change, but slowly, your feelings had deepened, which scared the shit out of you. Even now, with no words exchanged, your head felt light as he sat beside you, his familiar scent comforting you.

“Beautiful moon out tonight.” Astarion commented softly. You murmured in agreement, placing the plate and fork next to you now that you were done eating.

“Were you able to hunt tonight?” You asked Astarion.

He chuckled, “Always looking out for me,” He spoke gently. He then turned to look at you, his face soft, “Yes. I did…earlier. Thank you for your concern.”

You laughed softly and shrugged, even though it took all of your effort. You closed your eyes again, “You know me. I need to make sure everyone eats, even if your version of eating is slurping up some boar blood somewhere-”

Suddenly, your hand felt like it was enveloped, and chilled to the bone. Your eyes sprung open and you looked down. Astarion was holding your hand in your lap.

Without his glove.

Your mouth parted in surprise as you looked at him in shock. “Astarion-”

“I know.” He interrupted, smiling proudly.

“You’re…holding my hand.”

“I know.”

“Without your glove!”

“I know.”

You smiled back at him. Both of you sat there in silence, smiling at each other like two goons. You didn’t know what to say, so you started to stutter.

“But…how? When? You’re…feeling-”

“Not with everyone,” He said, “But with you…it’s different. I went to bed last night, thinking about how I wanted to…feel you. Touch you. Really feel you…hold your hand. With mine. Skin on skin,” Suddenly, he turned sheepish and looked down, “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind?!” You sat on your heels, gripping his hand tighter, “Of course I don’t! I’m…excited for you! Proud of you! Hells, I-”

Suddenly, Astarion’s lips were on yours. Cold, but gentle – he pressed lightly and pulled away almost as fast. As he pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes uncertain.

“I hope…you didn’t mind that, either.”

A deep blush grew on your cheeks as you smiled and shook your head, “Definitely didn’t mind that.” Your voice was low, quiet. You knew this moment, though on the outside seemed so insignificant, was a monumental moment for Astarion.

He smirked and nodded, “Good. Because when I was thinking about how I wanted to hold your hand, I was also thinking about how I wanted to kiss you, as well.”

You leaned into him and kissed him, pressing your lips on his a little firmer than last time. Smiling, you pulled away slightly, “I like when you think like that.”

Astarion chuckled, his bare hand moving up the sleeve of your blouse, “Good to know. I’ll have to keep that mind next time I start thinking.”

The Shadowlands had boasted not only the worst atmosphere you had ever experienced, but also the worst sounds to ever grace your ears. It seemed like every time you heard a bird squawk, or a bush rustle, you jumped 10 feet in the air. You were thankful that you had Astarion by your side at night, otherwise, you weren’t completely sure if you’d get any rest at all.

Your nights with Astarion could only be described as wholesome, for the most part. Though his gloves were now off in the presence of your tent – his comfortability of touching you without them pretty much 100% - he still couldn’t get past his history when it came to sex. The moaning in each other’s mouths as your tongues danced with each other only amplified how desperate you were for each other, but every time, it wasn’t right. And that was okay.

But gods, did you yearn for him in every way.

Astarion was currently holding you, as you read on your side. You could tell he was sneaking peeks at your book because every so often, there was a “humph” or gasp coming from his lips softly. And when you tried to turn the page too fast, Astarion would gently touch the corner of the book, preventing you from moving to the next page.

“I can let you borrow the book when I’m finished, you know.” You said, giggling in his arms. He smirked and kissed your neck, his breath hot in your ear.

“But isn’t this much more fun, darling?”

You dog-eared the page and put the book down, turning in Astarion’s arms so you were facing him. You gently placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. Every time you touched him with skin-on-skin contact, you made sure he was comfortable. Astarion smiled and nodded, placing a peck on your forehead. Slowly, he kissed down your temple, to your cheek, and to your jawline. You sighed heavily, your arms wrapping around his neck. He hummed as he kissed along your jaw.

"Astarion..." You breathed. Your hands found their way into his hair, and when you started running your fingers through it, he moaned slightly.

Suddenly, gently, Astarion's cold hand had found it's way in between your legs, tentatively pressing against your clit through your underwear. You gasped at the sudden sensation, pulling back. Looking at him confused, he blushed slightly.

"I need you," He murmured quietly, brushing a lock of your hair back, "I need to feel you. All of you. I want to take you...desperately."

You smiled and slowly rolled your hips forward, towards his fingers. The pressure made you moan, and you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes back.

"Are you sure?"

Astarion nodded. His hand quickly pulled back and found it's way by his side, "But...I may...um..." His gaze followed where his gloves lay on the table near your bed. You followed his eyes, and looked at the gloves. You smiled and kissed him.

"Put them on."

"Are you sure? It's just that...well, I don't need them to touch you anymore, obviously, but when I think about making love, it can get overwhelming-"

"Astarion," You cut him off gently, staring into his eyes, "If you need to wear your gloves to feel comfortable making love to me, then you can wear 30,000 pairs at the same time. As long as you feel comfortable doing it," You kissed him quickly, "And can still take off my pants."

Astarion laughed and reached behind you, slipping the gloves on. His bashful look gave way to a smile, his eyes darkening in a way that you hadn't seen before. He enveloped you in a kiss, grabbing hold of your body around your waist.

"I am going to fuck you until you see stars." He grumbled, pressing his erection into you. Capturing your lips in a rough kiss, you moaned into it, the sudden portrayal of Astarion’s arousal sending heat to your belly. He gently guided you on your back as he straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Finally he leaned back, staring into your eyes.

He was truly a captivating sight - his fair, taught body seemed to glow in the light of your oil lamp. His eyes - usually a bright ruby - were now almost so dark they were onyx. He smiled at you, causing you to turn bashful under his gaze. You felt his hands make quick work of your pants, pushing them down to your ankles. You aided him by kicking them off your feet, your heart racing.

Was this finally happening - were you finally going to make love with Astarion? Your head swam as his gloved hands glided down your sides, taking in every inch of you. He shook his head, still smiling.

“You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” He whispered, his eyes inching towards your (now soaking) center. Gracefully, he slid down the bed, not breaking eye contact with you. Achingly slow, he spread your legs. Settling on his belly, his head dipped to your core, his nose so close it tickled the hair that encased it.

“Astarion…” You murmured, your hand resting on his head. You watched him lick his lips before he lightly pressed his tongue to your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. You physically felt like your senses were on overdrive - every muscle was tightened, anxiously awaiting his touch.

“You can’t rush perfection, darling,” He purred, one of his fingers finding their way to your clit. He gently rubbed the finger over your bulge, teasing you, the leather of the gloves an icy contrast to your growing heat. “I’m going to savor this moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

He was staring at you; a moment suspended in time. The only sound in the tent was your whimpers, trying to muffle it so the others didn’t hear you. Astarion’s signature smirk never left his mouth - he was the notorious tease, so why would he be any different in bed?

Suddenly, his tongue delved into you, immediately lapping up your juices, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your hands found his head, desperate to grip anything in their path. Once you felt his hair you couldn’t help but give a tight tug, to which he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations driving you crazy.

“You like that, don’t you?” He teased, pulling back slightly to speak. He still smirked, his tongue softly darting back to your clit. You bit your lip and nodded, the only way you could currently respond without screaming in pleasure. He dove back in, sending waves of sensation through your body - the coil in your belly started to tighten as Astarion took your clit in his mouth, sucking gently.

Shifting your head to the side of the bed, you pressed your mouth into the pillow, yelping in pleasure. Suddenly, you felt the leather of Astarion’s glove grabbing your cheeks, forcing your head forward. When you opened your eyes you saw him hovering over you, body slightly raised from your pussy.

“Don’t,” He commanded, the other hand working circles on your clit, “I want everyone to hear. I want the whole world to hear how good I love you.”

“Astarion…” You whimpered, your voice trailing off as he was back in between your legs, licking you into another dimension. You did as you were told, your head lolling back on to the pillow so you were looking at the ceiling of your tent, your vision going fuzzy. Your orgasm was quickly approaching, your muscles so tight you felt like you had to jump out of your skin. You knew Astarion sensed it - he slipped one arm underneath you to give himself better leverage, and was now lapping at you roughly, hungrily.

“I-I…I’m going to come,” You breathed, your strength failing you to use your full voice. You looked down and saw Astarion smiling into your cunt, the vibrations on your clit causing your legs to shake around his head. He stared at you from his position, which was just the push your body needed to reach ecstasy.

Your orgasm washed over you as your back involuntarily arched, a hand gripping so hard on to Astarion’s head you’re surprised you didn’t hurt him. His voice was screamed from your lips - definitely heard by everyone in camp - and you couldn’t think of anything else as you saw stars. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you heaved, trying to get control of your breathing. Astarion lapped at you for a few moments more as you felt your orgasm, finally pulling back to give you a moment to breathe. He stood on his knees and wiped his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face.

“You taste incredible.” He said, slowly raising himself from the bed. He undid the strings of his pants and pulled them down, his erection popping out. Leaking with wetness already, you couldn’t help but stare - this was the first time you were fully seeing him naked, and you were in awe of his form. Just seeing him fully aroused was enough to get you going again, and once he crawled back on top of you, you immediately spread your legs for him. He kissed you, and the faint taste of yourself made you moan into the kiss - his tongue was sloppily dancing in your mouth, all sense of romantic etiquette out the window. He was needy, whimpering into the kiss.

You felt him align himself with your entrance and you pressed one of your hands to his cheek, causing him to look up. You smiled softly.

“Are you sure?” You asked gently, delicately cradling his trauma in your hands. Your heart was racing in your chest - out of all the lovers in the land, you couldn’t believe that Astarion had felt comfortable with only you.

He smiled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, darling. All 200 years of it,” You felt him adjust himself on top of you and he smiled, his eyes darkening again, “Now; stop being so nice so I can ravage you so good you can’t walk tomorrow.”

You both chuckled as he pressed himself into you, your laughter giving way to a low hiss as he immediately filled your aching entrance. Your pussy was begging for a break since you had just orgasmed mere moments ago, but the ache felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan. Astarion maintained eye contact with you, his mouth slightly parted, as he slowly began to rock into you, his hips falling into a rhythm.

“Gods, you are so fucking tight,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “Make my cock feel so good.”

Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead as he rocked quicker into you, his eyes falling heavy. You moved your hips upwards, gaining better leverage so he could go deeper. When he hit your spot, you both moaned in pleasure, and you gripped the sheets next to you.

“Astarion-” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You dug your nails into his back and pulled him closer to you, “Fuck! You make me feel so good!” Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you arched your back, “Harder, please!” You whined.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled in your ear, his words hot on your face, “You’d like me to fuck you ‘till we broke this bed, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You gasped, digging your nails harder into his back, “Please, please - give it to me!”

Astarion started to slam his hips against yours, the wet sounds of skin filling the tent. With every thrust, he groaned, his face becoming slightly red. A gloved hand appeared around your neck, and he stared into your eyes. You smiled slightly and nodded, and only with your consent did he start to squeeze, holding you in place as he fucked you.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Hells, Astarion! You make me feel so good,” You screamed, both of your hands going to his around your neck, “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me.”

Your voice was a whine, desperate for sweet release of your impending orgasm. If your first one was intense, this one was indescribable - Astarion’s cock slammed into you in a rhythm he was slowly losing control of. He took his hand off of your throat and held on to your hips, trying to gain control of his thrusts as he closed in on his own orgasm.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours!” You screamed immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck again, “I’m yours! This pussy is yours - forever! I’m yours forever.”

Astarion smirked as he looked into your eyes, “Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. He bit down on your bottom lip hard and as he pulled away, he licked away the tiny bit of blood that had sprouted.

Suddenly, his expression changed as the trusts fell out of time. He became sloppy, his mouth open, his eyes closed. His climax was close, so you wrapped your legs around him, drawing his cock closer into your aching cunt. Slick with both of your juices, Astarion’s cock slid in and out of you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Darling, I’m close,” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring into yours, “You’re going to make me come.”

“Come for me,” You said bringing your hands to the sides of his face. Your own orgasm was close - you were sure that if you felt him spill inside of you, you would tip over the edge for the second time that night. You smiled, tears of pleasure threatening to fall from your eyes as your body was being pounded into the bed, “Fill me.”

Astarion rested his forehead on yours. With a loud moan of your name, his entire body tensed, his climax spilling into you. His gloved hands dug into the side of your hips and suddenly your orgasm appeared, washing over you all at once. You pressed your body into his, screaming his name, your bodies close enough to feel as one.

As your bodies spasmed together, you saw Astarion smile. He peppered a gently kiss onto your lips, a soft moan escaping into your mouth.

“My darling,” He whispered, his body still on top of you, “That was…divine.” He was out of breath, his voice ragged. As he slowly moved to your side, still inside of you, you nuzzled into his chest, trying to steady your own breathing.

“Thank you,” You whispered, sighing contently, “For trusting me enough to be able to do that with me.”

Astarion tutted and started to stroke your hair, “Thank you for being the person that you are…so that I can feel safe enough to trust you.” He looked down at you and kissed you.

Sleep crept upon both of you; and neither you nor Astarion made a move to clean up the sticky aftermath between both of your legs. As you drifted off to sleep, still naked in Astarion’s arms, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled contently - you could get used to this. It seemed the whole world was in your arms as you both held on tightly to one another, an unspoken bond between the two of you grown stronger.

Astarion slid his gloves off before he fell asleep.

---

A/N: I had a blast writing this one...please reblog if you liked it! Comments mean the world to me! :)

#astarion x oc #bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanon #astarion x reader #astarion fan fiction #astarion romance #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x you

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zoro-chwaan · 6 months ago

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I’m not dead y’all!! And I haven’t lost motivation to write either!! I have like a handful of ideas to write, but don’t any to write them except for late at nights :(

Anyways enjoy this for now and I’ll write some more later!!

Fems! Dni!!

Word count: 0.9k (not a lot :( )

Content warning: bleeding kink (?), biting kink, rough sex, implied multiple rounds, overstimulation, in heat (oc, not reader)

┌────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────┐

Smutty thoughts

Vampire boyfriend who is centuries years older than you, but looks around your age! You met him at a coffee shop. He was the barista who was making your coffee. You thought he was cute so you did the bold move and asked for his number.. to which your surprise, he did?!

He giggled at your expression and told you that you were adorable. You, of course, blushed and thanked him. After that encounter, you’d text each other for the next few days till he asked you on a day (which you said yes of course). Which leads you to where your relationship stands now with you on the couch of his home while he’s at work.

You were reading a book that a friend of yours recommended, it was about a detective trying to solve a case where deaths appear with the mansion, but with each trail, they all seem to run cold. You were about to turn the next page until the door opened. It was your boyfriend!! And he looked drained? Which was weird since a couple nights ago you gave him some of your blood.

You walked up to him and hugged him. You asked how his day was and he just replied with a hum. He gave you a slight hug then made his way to your shared bedroom. That’s strange.. but you didn’t bother to push him and gave him his space. He’d always do that with you when you needed like after a tiresome day.

You went to sit back down (more like lie down) and picked up your book to continue reading. After about a half an hour you closed your book to check up on him. You could keep your attention on the book when he’s got you that worried. You got up and made your way towards the bedroom. You heard noises coming from inside, but you didn’t fully opened the door. But you did take a peek at what was going on.

And there he was, fucking his dick into his fist while moaning out your name. Seeing that made you wet and bothered, which the scent caught the attention of a certain someone. “Come on, baby. If you’re that wet from just the view, then why don’t you get a taste.” He said seductively, that lured you in.

You went inside the room and closed the door behind, but you were embarrassed to go any farther away from the door. “Awe, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Weren’t you just peaking?” He says as he removed his hand from his cock, as he sat up straight.

“Come here and help me out, yeah? You wanna help me out?” You nod your head and make your way to the bed. Once you got there, you were immediately pinned down (but weren’t you just standing like two seconds ago??). “See I have a bit of a problem here, baby, that only you can fix.. do you think you can be of use to me for a couple of days?” You looked up at him to see his face beat red. His eyes were red too..

➽───────────────❥

Ahh.. that’s right.. your boyfriend warned you about this when he told you about his secret.. vampires like him tend to go into heat once every two or three years and that they last for a week.. no wonder he was acting distant..

Though you couldn’t really think at the moment as he bites onto your shoulder once more, blood seeping out as you moan in pain and pleasure.

He continues his heavy thrusts into you as your face lays was pushed into the pillows. You couldn’t help but moan louder as he plays with your buds making you push into him. He groans from that and grabs a hold of your waist. He lifts your hips up to where your back is fully arched, he then pounds deep within you as he hits that sweet spot.

You were so thankful that you were faced down as tears came down like a faucet. He then pulled out and turned you around. He picked you up and placed your upper half off of the bed while your lower half was grabbed tightly by him. He shoved himself back into your cunt as you screamed. His thrust becoming inhumane as one of your hands grabbed ahold of the bed while the other on the floor to make sure you don’t fall.

He hums and holds your hips still, he looked down you as you tried to look up but you couldn’t out embarrassment. That seemed to get him going as he continued where he left off which made you cum from the nth time that night. And he didn’t come once!! Not fair!! :(

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

He had you against the wall this round. Face mushed up against the wall as he slammed right into you. You couldn’t handle it anymore and started blabbering about who knows what. He chuckled and got close to your ear, “You’re just a good little toy. Allowing me to use you how I see fit. Such a perfect little cocksleeve for me.” He thrusts in you a couple more times and cums. Finally.

He lays you down on the bed as he goes to the bathroom and fixes up a bath for you. He then returns back and picks up and walks over to the bathroom. He places you down gently and helps you bathe.

“Thank you again for helping me out with that, but I hope you’re not too busy this entire week cause I got a week off from work.” With that, you faint. Lord give you the strength to survive, cause you need it.

#ftm reader #male reader #trans male reader #oc x male reader #gay #mlm #oc x reader #x ftm reader #lgbtq #top male character #bottom male reader

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jellieland · 1 year ago

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It's just like them, thinks Martyn, miserably, To want to make these things stick.

He's always been an "act first, weasel your way out of any potential consequences later," kind of guy, so immediate, painful and permanent consequences to his recklessness strike him as unfair, unwarranted, and quite possibly a personal attack.

But, well. Here he still is anyway. What's he going to do about it?

His ankle burns where the baby zombie clawed at it. His legs ache from the dripstone, and the dripstone, and, yes, the dripstone again, and also walking off Mumbo's house and perhaps slightly misjudging his landing.

His ear keeps ringing and most of his right side stings from the creeper that decided, quite rudely, to sneak up on him and then blow up directly in his face about half a second before he could raise his shield. And the gravel later on, that he'd seen falling but still not managed to avoid, hadn't helped with any of that either.

He can feel blood dripping down his back in no less then five separate places, along with his arm, his shoulder, and the side of his head—that last one bled a lot and got onto his bandanna which was pretty annoying, actually—all from his many encounters with what he thinks were probably, at a conservative estimate, about a billion skeletons.

He doesn't quite glare up at the Secret Keeper. The healing they'd given him had been too much of a relief for that; his vision had stopped swimming, that head wound had stopped bleeding so much, and it was significantly less painful to walk. But the look he gives them is certainly glare-adjacent.

"You do know injuries aren't supposed to stick around like this, don't you?" he mutters, bitterly. "I know you like twisting stuff, but this is ridiculous. It's unnatural, is what it is!"

Someone snorts behind him.

He turns, and he sees Cleo. Neat, meticulous stitches are visible across their skin. Martyn hasn't met many people with scars before, but she's one of them.

The only new one is what looks, ironically enough, like a zombie bite on their arm, entirely healed over.

"It's really not that hard to deal with if you're just patient," she says.

"Ah," he says. "Well. That's my problem right there, then, isn't it?"

"It certainly looks like it," they say, amused. They're laughing at him again. He can't even be mad, since all in all, he totally deserves it.

"Yeah, alright," he says, a bit indignant just for the sake of what remains of his pride. "No need to rub it in! I hope you realize that if healing just worked normally, I'd be doing really well, actually."

"Hmm. Right, you do tend to throw yourself off of cliffs, and then try and work out how you'll save yourself on the way down, don't you?" She gives him a knowing look. "But look on the bright side—when you do die, you'll get to be perfectly healthy again for... I give it ten seconds. After that, you'll start making decisions."

"Hey, I'll have you know I went to the Nether for ages, and got out without a scratch on me that I didn't have when I arrived!" he retorts.

"Oh, so you can be careful, you just choose not to be?" They raise a judgemental eyebrow.

"Well... I mean." He half-shrugs, then winces. "I mean. Yeah. Yes. You know this about me."

There is a brief pause. She gives him an unreadable look, eyes catching on the blood seeping through his shirt. "...Yeah. I guess I do."

He glances over at the Secret Keeper again, bold and unmoving against the unnaturally darkened sky.

When he looks back, Cleo is still watching him. "You didn't even bandage those, did you?" they ask, with a touch of what most people would think was disdain. "Let alone stitch them up."

"I mean, no? It's not like it'll do anything, is it?" he asks, taken aback. "The good old 'Powers That Be' want us to bleed, and they want us to keep bleeding! Who am I to argue?"

She narrows her eyes as though she doesn't quite understand his point. "I'm not saying that would fix it. I don't think any of us are going to live long enough for that method of healing to work." They shrug. "Would make it hurt less, though."

Now it's his turn to narrow his eyes. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she says. "At least, so I've heard. For me, it's mostly about making sure I don't start physically falling apart, because it's really inconvenient when that does start happening."

He nods in acknowledgement. "Well, maybe I'll give it a go if I have the time." It all sounds a bit far-fetched to him. Much better to spend time working towards completing the next secret task he gets, or persuading people to give him the healing they have to spare, rather than losing hours on something that wouldn't actually help him in the long run.

(Maybe it's an echo, maybe it's just who he is, but Martyn's time is precious, and he is not giving it up for something so monotonous. Who would find that interesting?)

"Alright," they say. "If you're sure. But no one else is going to do it for you, you know."

He snorts. "Cleo," he says. "You're funny." She, of all people, should know he's already well aware of that.

"Right," they say, dryly. "Well, unless you want anything else I think I'm done here."

"Nah, not really." he says, then pauses. Frowns.

As unconvinced as he is, she really didn't have to say that to him. She deserves at least something in return.

"I will say," he says delicately, "if that advice really does help. You should probably keep it to yourself. You know. Death game, and all that."

All at once, their expression turns cold. "I think it's my business what I choose to give up, actually," she snaps.

Martyn's eyes briefly flick over to the Secret Keeper. "I mean..."

"No. I meant what I said." They cross their arms. "It's up to other people what they choose to do with it. But what I give them is up to me." She glances at the Secret Keeper, and then back to him. "No one's ever been able to tell me what I owe, or don't owe, to anyone." They smirk, and give him a piercing look. "You know this about me."

"...Yeah," he says. "I guess I do."

There is a short silence.

"Well!" He claps abruptly. "I won't keep you!"

"No, you won't," she says. "I'd best be off. This might come as a surprise, but I do actually have better things to do than hang out around Grian's creepy rock all day."

"Fair, fair." He chuckles, and raises a hand in farewell as they leave. "See you around."

Once she's out of sight, he goes back to staring at the Secret Keeper.

It's quiet.

"They're doing pretty well this time, huh?" he says. "If she keeps going like this, she probably won't get another happy ending, will she."

The air is very still, here. It's as though the place is trapped in night, even when he can see the sun in the sky.

The Secret Keeper does not answer him.

"I know you, though," he says. "You won't let it be all about being careful. That would be boring."

The thought nags at him that Cleo hasn't sounded as though they'd found any of this boring. Surely there had to be more to it than what she'd said? There had to be.

If there wasn't, then what was the point of all this pain?

He shifts, and his shoulder twinges, and he hisses quietly with frustration.

"Things already stuck," he says, unhappily. "They already stayed. I thought that was obvious."

The rock just stands there.

Judgemental. Impartial. It's impressive how it can manage to be both.

Martyn sighs heavily, and winces, and turns away. He looks towards his extremely small, entirely copied base, and a place where the sky is capable of letting in the light.

He pokes gingerly at his head wound. It's shallow, but painful.

"Maybe just this one," he mutters. "Could repurpose my bandanna. Although I guess I should probably wash it first. That would be smart." He wipes at his face. "If I don't then blood's going to start getting in my eyes. But not in a cool way, just in a way where I'll fall in a ravine by accident or something."

Nobody responds. That's ok. He hasn't exactly endeared himself to anyone, recently.

In a game that's even more about trust than usual, there's a part of him that doesn't mind being a lone wolf, as it were. At least for now. Harder to stab someone in the back if you don't let them get behind you, right?

He can make this work. He'll just have to adapt. He's good at that, usually! He just has to find the angle.

After all, he may not be patient, but he is persistent.

And he suspects being a liar will come in handy, for this one.

#secret life #secret life smp #martyn inthelittlewood #zombiecleo #my writing #i really like just how polar opposite their first episodes were #and how much it says about how they play these games.#and then there's the way that all damage sort of sticks #every heart you lose is a resource you will not get back. not really.

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songbvrd · 8 months ago

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ok but i've been thinking more about eddie cheating arc and it actually makes so much sense (aside from just being fucking hilarious that he's cheating on his ex-nun gf he already avoids for two men with the doppelganger of his dead wife)

but here's the thing. eddie has objectively dated women who he has no reason not to like. they're women who are objectively good for him and for his son. ana was a teacher, who christopher loved, who genuinely seemed good with him, and yet, at the prospect of it becoming too real, he abandoned ship (there's other stuff with her, but the show didn't acknowledge that from eddie's perspective, so i'm not referring to it either). with marisol, despite the actress being just objectively bad, there's no reason for him not to want to be with her. she has been cool w his hot and cold behaviour, she's clearly good with chris, and she clearly likes him. and yet, eddie clearly doesn't want to be with her (as evidenced by him constantly asking her to babysit so he can hang out with tommy or buck or kim lmao, literally anyone else).

like, in universe, these are two women who are beautiful, patient and care about his child.

and yet, eddie can't let go of shannon. because eddie doesn't feel the way he's supposed to feel about these women and there's an easy excuse to explain it. he never got over his son's mother. the problem, of course, being that he wasn't actually happy with her either. they were just kids themselves when shannon got pregnant, and for the majority of their relationship, they were avoiding each other. they were constantly fighting/disagreeing and their last encounter before her death was literally her leaving him again (not shannon bashing, i like her, but it's hard to deny that they were dysfunctional as hell, and not actually happy together, despite the fact that they did actually seem to love each other).

but for eddie, if you're trying to avoid reality, what better way to do it than to hide behind 'the one who got away'. a woman who can never prove his hypothesis wrong because she's gone. whilstever he can explain it away as 'it's because of shannon', he never has to confront the possibility that there's another reason why he doesn't feel what he thinks he should feel for these women.

so then he sees shannon (kim). and shannon is his scapegoat. shannon is the reason he can't make it work. so in theory, seeing her again, in his mind, it should "fix" him, right? except, it can't. because he was never actually happy with shannon, and regardless, this isn't shannon. he says he wants to nest, and i do believe that's true, but he also can't go through with something he doesn't really feel, clearly, so he sabotages it. so he's going to throw himself into it, sabotaging his relationship with marisol at the same time.

and when he tries again with kim, and it still isn't working, eddie's going to break down, because there's another reality he has to address. shannon isn't the reason it isn't working. it was an easy excuse to hide behind, but it isn't about her. eddie breaks down, pushes everyone away, struggles to deal with what tthat means for him.

but the truth is, it isn't working because it isn't what he wants. it's what he THINKS he should want. now, obviously, buddie is what i'm getting at here, but this conversation isn't even necessarily about buck. it's about eddie as a whole, and what he's hiding from.

wham bam, thank you ma'am, gay eddie realisation arc season 8.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #am i delulu? i can't even tell anymore #probably #but assuming he does actually have feelings for buck he isn't addressing #buck coming out could have triggered this specific breakdown as well

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libraford · 11 months ago

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I don't mean to keep talking about work shit but I'm back in that place where I like what I do and want to continue to do it, but there are parts of it that are starting to wear on me personally.

Work bitching under the cut.

We have a whole new crew this season except for me. And my boss is getting more stressed out because of her bosses, which means that when the new crew has questions it falls to me. Which is fine- the person who trained me was real knowledgeable and I'm decent at coming up with solutions to problems on my own.

The new people think I'm 'very chill.' But the truth is that most of the problems they're fussing over are things that I've encountered before and I know how to solve them or who to call if I can't. Sometimes my solutions aren't perfect and the overhead bosses notice that we had to rig something.

My immediate boss wants perfection. I told her that I can't promise that. She still thinks that I can do that, but I've never been a perfectionist. She will show you every hair out of place, every wrinkle in every collar, every misplaced crop.

Well?

Our subjects are children and children are imperfect. I didn't wash my hair for a year in fifth grade because I had constant earaches and didn't want to get my head wet. Sometimes kids are just funny looking- they make weird faces when you tell them to smile, they bug their eyes out, they don't sit still. Like I'm sorry, parents, that your kid doesn't sit with perfectly placed hands and a natural smile- but that's your goofy kid. Love and cherish their goofy years.

With most kids, I have a few tricks for getting them to fix their shirts and hair, get into the correct pose, and somewhat approaching a natural picture smile. But when you're doing 60 subjects a minute, some of them are not going to be perfect.

Yesterday I had a student who was special needs, did not like to be touched, and had specific wants for her photo. Her mother died last month and she wanted a photo of her holding the locket with her picture in it. Its the cutest photo ever.

They'll see that I went off-book. They'll see that her skirt isn't perfectly pleated. They'll see that she has some stray hairs.

I made an accommodation for this child. I accepted that we weren't going to get it perfect, but we were going to get a photo that her grandparents were going to cherish forever. Its truly an adorable photo. If I waited for perfect, I wasn't gonna get it.

Another kid was having a bad day. She was crying. I had to take her picture while she was crying, which is insult to injury for a kid who is having an internal crisis. We weren't going to get perfect.

I instruct the special needs teachers to send their kids to me because I'm very patient and I know some tricks and I know my equipment and I know how to make some adjustments to make it easier that some of my new photographers might not. I may not get perfect. I hope for happy, I hope for 'looking at the camera.' Its a win if I get both.

When I'm doing yearbook candids, I do fast and good. I have a system that allows me to take a rather high volume of decent photos that I know will look good in a yearbook without interrupting a class to get them. You literally can't get perfect here except on accident. They're kids in their natural environment.

When I'm doing sports candids I aim for volume. I know where to stand to get the best shots. If I take enough pictures, occasionally I get a really good one. But I don't look for perfect. I can't be like 'hey basketball dude, could you twist your hips a little bit to get that flattering curve of your spine?' Not happening.

I learned to work fast because I am being asked to do multiple things within a short time frame, so I learned how to process tasks in an efficient way: learning the typical building layout to minimize my workload and prepare for certain hiccups that happen often.

I mention them to the new people. I tell them that I am good and fast because I have done these things for three years and I am familiar with thinking on my feet. Often, I have to get things done quickly so that I can go help the new photographers who are struggling. If they prefer to go slow and focus on details first, that's fine. I will focus on volume and speed, I will pick up the slack while they are still learning.

I am told that I am going too fast. I need to slow down, focus on details, get things right instead of get them done.

But which would you prefer? That your kid was just a little messy for their photo or that I didn't take their photo at all because we ran out of time? Last season, one of our photographers had an emergency and I had to photograph nearly 800 students by myself.

The boss was shocked that they were good. Glad to hear we were expecting garbage.

Yesterday, while at a job, the boss was there to help one of the new photographers with one of the more complicated tasks. The new photographer felt that she was being pressed to go faster than her standards would allow. I told her afterwards that speed comes with time, there are some things you can't account for, and it wasn't necessary to push her that hard.

Our other new photographer is a 'perfectionist' and she takes so very much time getting every hair and every position and every expression, but she struggles to put up her equipment every time and if there's a problem she shuts down and can't think of a solution.

I have to be able to set up quickly so that I can make sure she has an extra hand to help her with issues. I have to photograph quickly to make sure that if she needs help I'm available.

And her photos are not really that much better. I'm often coaching her on cropping, on posture.

Slow does not equate perfection. Every person I've met that calls themselves a perfectionist is a perfectionist until it comes to the actual job.

She wants me to do class groups. Every time she trains me on class groups, there is some reason that I have to hop onto a solo unit. The first time it was because one of our photographers, another perfectionist, was taking too long and it created a bottleneck. Last time, it was because our other photographer went into labor and the remaining photographer was slower than hell.

So I'm learning that my speed and ease is an asset in these situations, but in situations where speed is not an asset then I should slow down- which experience tells me that if you slow down you're not guaranteed to do better.

Earlier in the week, I was showing one of the new girls how to do a dance backdrop setup. I had her look over my shoulder while I did the white balance and then exposure. I had shown her how to do it on a previous day and this was just reinforcement. Its also something that we do literally on every job, just in a different context- she should understand the concept and I gave her the option to raise any questions.

The boss told me that if I'm training someone how to do something I should show them how to do it, then mess up the settings on purpose for them, and then have them fix it. We were running behind schedule and I had actually been on schedule to leave like two hours prior but chose to stay so that we could work on this project together. I was not intending on training anyone.

She asks me why I don't want to become a trainer.

Its not usually like this. Usually, I can coast a little. But I'm filling the shoes of a couple people that had to sit this season out and now she's busting my chops to be perfect when 'perfect' was never my goal.

I dunno.

Its exhausting.

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silusvesuius · 8 months ago

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unleashing the same hellscape i did on my notes app here it's my nelvas thinking dump i wrote just for fun and to keep track of what i view them as up 2 this point. Might change my mind on it later on it has a lot of things written in brackets for no reason . it's like ~2500 words long which isn't much but i think i said everything i've had in my mind for now read it for fun if you like to have fun leik me :) And talvas :) And nelothxP

retyping what i said in the tags of those last text posts and rearranging those thoughts a bit: in my train of thought that's been going steady since early 2024 i'm almost certain that neloth might see talvas as the epitome of being morally Clean (before that changes because of neloth's influence over him) and generally pure as a person. pure not used in the Pervert way; neloth is just a veeery big fan of talvas having absolutely no backbone and being very docile when it comes to him. which is r expected traits 4 someone if they find themselves under neloth's thumb as an apprentice, but it being written that he isn't at all catty and defiant to his face is cute. all talvas manages to do is shit talk neloth to others and pray neloth doesn't find out he meant the things he said but also can’t help feeling bad about it, even though neloth doesn't and wouldn't care, if he found out. neloth is happy with being an obnoxious & disgusting person. truly.. him growing obsessed with talvas' docile and innocent nature doesn't necessarily have to add up to him wanting to Taint or Ruin him (and if it happens ((it does)) it's not done on purpose, neloth can't hold that much control and power of his actions in that specific department). he encounters difficulties when he realizes he actually wants that Elven Twink.. it's too far gone to fix anything after he's tampered with talvas' patience and stability, and even then he can't be honest with talvas about anything, because he still wants to hold a great deal of power over him (neloth essentials for survival).

Might be the type to just want talvas to magically(haha) think it's okay that his wizard master desires him and expect that energy right back without talvas actually acknowledging it because it'd make neloth feel insanely cringy and embarrassed.. humiliated.. EVEN. but that's just in a deep deep dark corner of his mind, he isn't stupid. when trying to gain 'access' to his apprentice ("*His* apprentice" is also kinda funny way of viewing his mind too. just cause talvas is working as an apprentice under him neloth probably already feels a concerning sense of ownership over him that makes him feel very good) he can't even make the signs of interest be apparent to talvas because he's insanely inept at being Soft and honest for obvious reasons. he can tell what possibly could make talvas warm up to him even after he treats him like shit for eons but there's no way he's bringing himself to do it (change is embarrassing, especially in their formal dynamic, and especially at his age). so it's a half-assed attempt (actually he's trying his hardest🙄) to try and make talvas be (at least) less afraid of him. not that talvas has any other place that we know of that he "Belongs" to, he just sticks with neloth regardless of anything. neloth watching him as he sleeps ensues . Guys what do i do to make my apprentice let me hit because all of the eye contact i do with him while gripping his arm or petting his knee isn't helping.

if we were to go back to how that spark is ignited in neloth swamp of a heart, brain… idk, it has to be when he realizes talvas' capability of forgiveness and 'Sucking it up' instead of lashing out at neloth after .. anything, but perhaps physical abuse in particular. neloth a 100% has absolutely no problem putting his hands on anyone, especially someone he sees so often, such as talvas. not that talvas really annoys him (his clear and voiced obedience pleases neloth as anyone can tell), but he just doesn't see it as too much of a big deal. the physical mistreatment that happens once in a blue moon isn't intense enough to scare off talvas for sure anyways. neloth is a bitch so all he can so is smack him at the back of the head (talvas finds it very normal) and slap him if he's feeling festive (something talvas finds kinda extreme but not that it happens often. he sometimes feels like he deserves it, or that neloth is warranted to do as he pleases. he tosses around it being justified or pitying himself, though). May be possible that neloth would realize he Like Likes talvas once he slaps him, mayhaps, for the first time, but talvas' immediate reaction to being treated like that is just sadness mixed with feeling shame for tearing up/crying in front of someone he respects *bishoujo sparkles sfx*. talvas is a delicate soul so he can't hold warranted emotions like that for long, and even tho it's expected of him to be making eye contact w/ neloth in a setting like that, he wouldn't be able 2 bring himself to do it because looking at neloth would make him wanna burst out in tears like a weeeee baby. Booo hooo.. talvas is the 19th century (4th era) damsel that runs out of the ball in tears after no young cavalier invited her to dance. watch this bleed into the most awkward and silent week of neloth's entire life because talvas doesn't even really feel like speaking to him or looking at him, but neloth doesn't wanna brute force the usual respectful etiquette out of him cus he thinks that's just gonna make talvas hurl himself down on some rough rocks at the seashore. Good thing talvas is very spineless and forgiving (especially in relation to neloth… i mean.. who r YOU to not forgive him) so that might just last a day or two. the hurt always stays tho. neloth this is why talvas doesn't wanna smash you.. you might've made some conclusions about what elven twink you like but talvas is just even more scared of you now. was your Pervert awakening worth it. and even if we do backflips and jump thru the point where everything is too far gone for either of them to go back, dude is still too afraid to make out with his apprentice. Deserve. but why though because talvas wouldn't refuse. for what reason? we may never know

^^^ this makes me feel like i love seeing characters i reaaaalllly love (elenwen and talvas in this case) as enigmas in situations where they're confronted with something so ""Intimate"". elenwen's stance on this is final tho cause she's a grown ass woman and there's no way you could reshape her brain. ulfric left her mind plane in SHAMBLES. talvas has more right (in the literal sense) to be erratic or inconsistent with his actions. maybe he likes to be desired. Also i strongly believe that talvas has probably never been in love (for any reason rly but it's mostly him not having actual time for it + not seeing it as something that is important to him at that point in his life)… i want neloth to be his first experience with Love so that it ruin his view on it forever. can't get myself to say he'd be in love with neloth at any point though. From his standpoint it really should feel empowering and 'nice' that neloth wants him in many ways (ew).. cause that's a man with status.. power.. ability to do anything rly . talvas is in no condition to be playing mind games with him or anything tho so don't get that idea. he's not strong enough of a person to be Tricking anyone or to be Playing with anyone's feelings. neloth would be immune to that, too. neloth can just kinda tell talvas is too good and … UNTAINTED. talvas wants to see the best in everyone. too bad he genuinely detests you, neloth.. so: he doesn't actually love neloth but wouldn't be happy to see his tombstone either. SO (PART TWO): if you time it right he wouldn't be against getting Freakkkkyyyy with you okay?but no promises

even if @ some point talvas develops indistinct feelings towards neloth cause of neloth's own incessant weird-mild advances it wouldn't have to mean he just likes old men permanently now. actually it kinda does. i can sorta feel it rearranging his braincells and making him unable to normally interact with people in his age range. he probably already had a hard time talking to others in hopes of developing a friendship just cause he's timid but after neloth's nonstop abuse and Accidental romance mind games he morphs into a whole new type of guy. it's hard to notice at first but he'd probably just start to leech off of neloth's prissy and unbearable personality in a natural course of things + neloth is the only person he sees and talks to on the regular pretty much. < this can just be reworded as just the cycle of abuse and whatnot. if he notices an opening in the abilities and Smarts of another person, especially someone his age/younger, he will automatically see them as umm…stupid. and also insult your abilities to your face if he snaps. he strikes me as the type to be afraid to say what he really thinks (another consequence of being glued to neloth all the time when all talvas does is act like he totally respects anything he says) and gets scared if anything slips out his mouth but is proud in letting the "Truth" be known because he already figured out you're a lesser being than him. he's just cloning neloth's verbal abuse braincells though he would never put his hands on someone. his desire to be mean and see himself as superior stems from neloth always disparaging him obviously.. talvas 4 that reason is very self conscious of his abilities and doesn't rly think he's all that useful or talented. his self doubt then would play into how he doesn't know when to believe what others are saying to and about him.. i wanna imagine that talvas is very oblivious to neloth's weirdo status just cause he partly doesn't even want that thought to cross his mind. i bet everyone but him sees it and finds it gross😕 but nobody in the vicinity is strong enough to tell neloth that he should be ashamed LMFAO. if you would try and even hint to talvas that it's happening he'd never take you seriously and just get mad. he's protective of neloth's image more than neloth himself is; not that people knowing neloth has abnormal sodomistic inclinations toward his apprentice would make his public image worse than it already is (everyone already thinks he's weird so it's not shocking at all) but talvas still wouldn't wanna hear it cause he thinks it's just false. maybe he's just ashamed that he's being brought into the whole thing. also because he doesn't wanna face the reality EJI23JRIO32KJ Well talvas when neloth makes an actual move on you don't say that we didn't warn you.. we're all waiting till neloth's status as an obvious apprentice-pervert becomes obvious to you

even if he's willingly ignorant of the fact he still thinks of the 'accusations' a lot when he feels like it. and unknowingly begins feeling even more uncomfortable in neloth's presence. heart starts beating faster and everything. neloth could come up to him meters away and talvas would still cover his mouth in realization and be like "i knew it… the DB told me but i didn't wanna believe it …..😦 so you really do like young men … and you're in love with me ..😨" *Neloth wakes up from this fever dream drenched in sweat* < neloth doesn't want (obvi) talvas to react that way at any point because he himself would just get scared so they'd just be staring at each other wide eyed. but talvas jumping into his advances isn't what he wants either (that'll also scare him). neloth is still relying on talvas' politeness to let him do as he pleases. but it is impossible for talvas to let it slide without questioning anything regardless so🤷‍♀️ take your few Ls and move on. neloth just wants talvas to sit on his lap. wants to spoonfeed him soup. he's so romantic. he also wants to(sniper on rooftop blows my head to bits). neloth is actually a pretty touchy feely person when he's feeling Frisky (=deranged about talvas). I'm certain his favorite part of talvas' body is his legs. talvas has beautiful young man skipping leg day legs. so nothing special at all but neloth wants to touch them lol.. let your master wizard squeeze your calves and he might just be occupied enough like a kid playing with a fidget toy to not abuse you verbally for 3 seconds. as i said befoar neloth is unpleasant with his touch because he doesn't know how to be soft + doesn't even want it to necessarily feel very 'rewarding' as to not pamper talvas. petting talvas kinda turns into a nervous habit for himself and an instrument of some sort of Reassurance 4 talvas when he wants him to know he’s not mad, for example. non-vebal confirmation. talvas still finds it weird but thinks it’s a charm point too. neloth wouldn't even be against touching him familiarly in front of others but only in a "older male figure" ways ex. touching his knee or putting his hand at the back of his neck (talvas sees it as some sort of disciplinary tactic though). physical touch that matches neloth's age and is enough for it to be seen as not necessarily romantic / overtly weird.

there'ssssss no saving talvas after such a powerful person gets his hands on him. any will to leave would leave HIM either out of fear or out of attachment and neloth wouldn't just let him go (Alive at least) since he knows the things he knows. if talvas were to escape i'm a Truther of him not feeling in place and wanting to go back cause it's the stability that he's used to. but tbh if he encounters neloth on accident anywhere he's gonna start running. I was drinking tea while writing this and started choking on it i just nearly died writing this are youhappy. anyways, nelvas is a never-ending abusive relationship that doesn’t even have High highs, all it has is low lows. neloth always mistreats talvas for any reason but is never genuinely kind from the heart or out of remorse. .. hmm……yeah. I forgot to type this back out from my posts tags > talvas might just start viewing neloth as fuck crazy and demented after he Finally notices at least one molecular sign of gay attention from him . like ‘Oh wow Master Neloth obviously doesn’t get any female attention or anything cus he’s a sick fuck why does he have to search for it from me Can varona take the hit for me 🥺 *sees her dead body being dragged by the DB* hmm i guess not well i’ll figure something out i guess’ (he doesn’t) also the dialogue talvas has with varona after he steals neloth’s book trying to conjure some bs up will always be so cute to me he’s so defensive and afraid of neloth finding out. Him trying to decipher neloth’s handwriting is cute TOO ik their 19th century love letters to each other would go crazy and make sense to anyone but each other but i’m not gonna talk about 19th century girl talvas x neloth rn it’s too much . what ever. i think i’m done thank you i should just go back to drawing them as grecian pottery red figures or smthj Fun stats for you 4 getting to the end: times the word ‘abuse’ is used: 6

#text #i've been putting more meaning(?) into the nelvas-es i've been drawing lately so i wanted to see how it would reflect in words #the fact that dis will show up in tags will haunt me a little bit but if i add asteriks it will be incomprehensible LOL #i hope this isn't too hard to understand when reading bc i know i have an easier time reading stuff like this instead of 'snobby' writing -#- bc i like knowing how the thoughts were brewing as they were written down.#but it may not be the case for all people.#what do U think of it.#i think what i;ve always liked the most in being able to talk w/ people Online is getting to know their thoughts on the same thing #more than anything else #i literally sucked and spit out all of the skajrim lore factors out of their relationship pretty much (not that it had much in the first -#- place) so it's just a reading on a possible scenario with the characters i was given #i mean characters i put in the soup pot decorating the middle of my brain #this is december-may 2024 facts for now #just so i remember #abuse //#< OKAY #log #< is gonna be my tag for this type of thing if i end up saying more because i already started torturing my notes app with what i think of -#- civil war characters #tumblr is pussy so it made me reformat the paragraph breaks i made. they don't rly matter anyway but still

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anonymousoneshots · 2 years ago

Text

Thing For Me (Part 3)

Roman Reigns x Reader

Rating: 18+ NSFW

Warnings: Dry Humping, Kissing, Public

A/N: I know this is a shorter chapter, but I have so many ideas for this. This is just the beginning. Let me know if you want to be part of the squad! And please let me know your thoughts about that ending. 😉

Squad: @pusiqw @fame-ass-ers @lux-angels @fictitiousbeing @southerngirl41

It was Saturday of the following week and you were heading into the backstage area at a house show, your first event since Wrestlemania. Your encounter with Roman had consumed your every thought. You couldn’t shake the feel of his fingers gripping your bare thigh, or his voice so close to your ear. You also couldn’t forget how quickly his demeanor had changed, and how awful he made you feel before you left. Your mind was chaos, and Roman was in every whirlwind.

Why had he acted so crass? How could he be so magnetic and warm, then suddenly go rigid? Was I a disappointment? God, he was probably grateful for Jimmy’s interruption and to be rid of having to please me. I was a fool, and this was most definitely a game to him. I fully expect everyone here to know what we did, how I threw myself at him. How many girls has he run dry? And if he’s really that bad, then why does my stomach flip at the thought of his touch, why does my mind keep defending him? How do I shake this thing for him?

Despite your hurt, there was a piece of your heart that leapt at the thought of seeing him. What a mess he’s made of me. You turn the corner lost in your thoughts, and nearly walk right into him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say before realizing who it was. You glance up and meet his gaze, and your stomach drops. He looks bored. You wait for him to say something, but instead he steps past you and continues walking down the hall. You stand there for a moment, stunned. The bastard didn’t even acknowledge me. What is his problem? You sigh and shake your head, continuing down the hall, which now seems infinitely emptier.

The whole night you were avoiding everyone. You refused to meet anyone’s gaze, and kept to yourself with your head low. You just had to make it until the end of the night, then you could continue avoiding everyone until Monday. You pretty much had a successful night of no interaction until you best friend, Serena, spotted you walking and jogged over. She was one of the seamstresses for the women’s ring gear.

“[y/n]! Wait up. You look like someone ran over your dog,” she remarked. You stop walking and begrudgingly turn to face her. You suppose you did look rather distant, maybe even a little disheveled.

“I’m fine,” you managed, and smiled at her. In an effort to change the subject, you pointed over to her work station.

“Who’s gear are you fixing up today?” She narrows her eyes at you, but thankfully decides not to pry.

“Becky’s, and I’m way behind. I’ll catch up with you later?” She kisses her fingers and lightly touches them to your cheek before turning around and heading back to work.

“Perk up! Roman’s match is next,” she calls over her shoulder.

Despite yourself, you watch Roman’s match. Despite him being an asshole and leaving you in the dust, you couldn’t turn away. He was thriving off the heat from the crowd, and you caught your lips turning up at that cocky, satisfied grin that plastered his face as he circled his grounded opponent. He was a wolf, and your skin was prickling at the memory of him eyeing you like that. Shaking the sensation creeping up your thighs, you click off the TV and turn away. Screw him.

Roman’s match was the last of the night. After packing up your things, you moved to head out of the arena as quickly as possible, throwing on a pair of black sweats over your ring gear. Winding through the labyrinth that was backstage, you pass lots of familiar faces. And each time you glance up at a face that isn’t Roman, your heart stumbles. You’re nearly at the exit where the buses are waiting for you when you overhear a conversation.

“The Bloodline don’t lose, man!” It was Jey’s voice. You quickly steal behind an empty hallway and peer around the corner, listening. Jey and Jimmy were standing in front of Roman, clearly fired up about something.

“Wait until Monday, we’ll hand his ass to him,” Jimmy chimed in. Wait. Roman… lost? Your gaze drops to the floor as your eyebrows furrow, not grasping the fact that he actually lost. That hasn’t happened in years. A small laugh of disbelief escapes your lips. Serves the asshole right. Karma is a God. You glance up to notice Roman’s eyes drilling into you. You’d been made. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you quickly turn away and start down the hall. Shit.

“[y/n].” This was some serious deja vu.

“Why is it I’m always catching you sneaking?” He questions you.

“You lost tonight,” you say, and turn around to face him. This is the first conversation you’ve had since you stormed out of his room.

“You sound surprised. Didn’t watch your Tribal Chief tonight?” Roman teased, a wolfish grin playing at the corner of his lips. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together. Roman referring to himself as Tribal Chief made heat rush to your core. You tilt your chin up defiantly, refusing to let yourself melt for him

“Maybe you’re to blame for my loss.” Roman steps closer to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. You can smell the scent of his sweat mixed with soap, teasing your senses. Roman leans in closer to you, speaking softly so only you can hear.

“Maybe you need to be punished.”

“And you need to get over yourself,” you retort, despite the pooling at your core. “I’m not a toy, Roman.”

You turn on your heel and start to walk away, but he grabs your wrist and whirls you back around. A playful smile rests on his lips.

“But you can be. And I promise you’d like it.”

You immediately drop your gaze, extremely flushed. So much for defiance. Roman is still gripping your wrist, holding you in place, so close to him. Suddenly you come to your senses about where you are, and worry that someone will witness the interaction. You tug your arm and try to release his grip, but he doesn’t budge.

“Roman,” you say, looking up at him, a bit of panic alight in your eyes, “someone could see.”

His grin expands as he releases his grip on your wrist and takes a small step back.

“Where’s the fun in being cautious?” He asks.

“If your idea of fun is being reckless and a grade-A dick, I’m not interested.”

Roman lets out a laugh, and walks around you like a predator planning how to enjoy their meal. Your heart picks up speed, and you take a deep breath in. He really is toying with you. And fuck him and your senses, because you’re so turned on by it. He makes his way back to face you, and reads you like a book. Suddenly his hands on on your waist and he’s pushing you backwards, lifting you up and setting you down on one of the roadie trunks. His body is positioned between your legs, and his face is inches away from yours.

You can feel his dick hardening through his pants, pressing into your aching core. He places his hands flat on the trunk at your sides, leaning in closer. Your lips part in anticipation of a kiss, but he just studies your eyes. You’re both breathing rather heavily, waiting for the other to make a move. You can’t take the tension anymore as what feels like minutes pass, so you crash your lips into his, gripping his bare chest. He kisses you back hungrily, grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away from him, wrapping your arms behind your back.

Your core is pulsing, and he’s grinding his dick against you with every movement. You want more of him, all of him, right now. But he still has your arms pinned behind your back, and you’re helpless. He pushes his tongue past your lips and explores your mouth. He tastes like peppermint. You start to try to wriggle your arms free as he devours you, needing so desperately to touch him, but his grips just tightens. He pulls away a moment later and studies you, breathless with reddened lips. You swear you can feel his dick twitch though his pants. You don’t want him to stop. You need more, more, more.

“Is that your idea of not interested?” Roman remarks, allowing you to catch your breath. “You were just so worried someone would see us standing close together then you dry humped me on the roadie cart,” he says playfully.

Your face flushes as you remember you’re in the middle of the hallway backstage, where anyone can walk by. You quickly wiggle free of his grip and push him away as you hop off the trunk. You start to glance around to catch any witnesses, but Roman, grabs your chin and makes you look at him instead.

Roman laughs again. “I’m going to have so much fun playing with you.”

“Screw you,” you say, as you tear your chin out of his grip and take a step back.

“I know you want to,” he replies smoothly, “but you’ll just have to wait.”

Suddenly you were seeing red, so filled with rage at him for playing with you and finding your frustration and panic amusing. You were about to tear him a new one, when you notice Jey down the hall, staring at you both.

The smirk on Jey’s face told you all you needed to know. He just nods his head as your gaze falls on him, and you swear you see his adjust himself through his sweats.

You’d been made. And if two was dangerous, what makes three?

#reader insert #wwe x reader #fanfiction #one shot #wwe #fan fiction #fanfic #smut #wwe one shot #roman reigns x reader #x female reader #roman reigns #jey uso #x reader

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changingplumbob · 6 months ago

Text

Woods Household: Chapter 2, Part 3

When you want to jog for pictures but it's cloudy...

CW: Moderate level sim spice. Content Warning Guide

Carrying on from last chapter, Samir has a voice in his head now that he's a werewolf. When it "speaks" to him, it will be in italics. When he answers back, just in his head, it will be bold.

Reece and Samir wrap up and head out for a jog together. As usual Samir is in front.

Samir: Come on, I’m beating you

Reece: Wish you were, gently though

Samir: Focus

Reece: But you have superhuman speed now, I am only human

Samir: I’m not a vampire blondie, I think you’re just making excuses

Reece: My phone says it’s freezing

Samir: Then you better keep up to stay warm

Reece: So that’s the tunnels where…

Samir: Yeah. I’ll probably go looking for more stuff this week, see if these werewolf senses can help with anything

Reece: Just be careful lover. And come home

Samir: I always have, I always will. You warm enough

Reece: I could do with a cuddle

Samir: After the run… if you can beat me

Reece: *huffs* I’m trying!

Nearing the bridge back they encounter a patch of ice that almost sends Samir flying! Luckily he has Reece to grab on to! Unluckily the closest part is his butt.

Reece: *squeaks*

Samir: *chuckles*

He pulls himself up and gives Reece's butt a slap for fun.

Samir: Thanks for saving me from the fall

Reece: No fair! I thought that meant you-

Samir: Can’t hear you, too far ahead

Reece: You have ridiculously high expectations of me

Samir: You meet them every time though

Back home Reece is pretty chilled despite the run so Samir orders a thermostat to help keep the house warm enough for him.

Reece: *chattering* co… co… cold

Samir: I have an idea that could help

He raises his eyebrows and Reece is putty in his hands.

Samir: You’re taking a shower with me. Clothes off, now

Reece: *pouting* Just a shower?

Samir: Don’t talk back or it will be

Laughing Reece follows him into the warm water where he finally warms up and gets what he’s been angling for since he woke up. The increase in sensation since Samir became a werewolf is an adjustment Reece never tires of.

Around midday Keira pops by to help Reece with his homework for biology.

Reece: You’re still so tanned

Keira: What can I say, the honeymoon was good. Marta says to say hi

Reece: She’s sweet. Now can you explain the types of alleles again? I thought it was just dominant and recessive

Keira: Sure. So it was in high school. But at this level it’s also about if the allele is on the x chromosome, y chromosome, non-sex chromosome or in the mitochondria. Hey- don’t pull faces, you can figure it out

Outside Samir has been keeping himself busy. He fixed one of the turbines that had broken down and then went on a hunt. He got some kind of meat back, we’re not to question it, he is a carnivore. Then he finishes a half done garden planter that is sitting on the workbench. He levels up level 3 handiness and finally sees the benefits of carving with a saw instead of a knife. Then quick mail check.

Reece: That makes so much more sense now!

Keira: It’s pretty logical in the end

Samir: Hi Keira

Keira: Oh hey Samir, you want to study biology

Samir: *chuckles* I’ll leave it to Reece. Thanks for coming over

Keira: No problem

The Foster pair get back to work and Samir goes into the bedroom to practice on his violin.

Keira: Did he not want to practice out here?

Reece: He’s a shy guy Keira

Keira: Right, I know, I’m a loner to. You just look at him and he doesn’t look like he should be shy you know?

Reece: I’m so glad mum got him that violin

Keira: You should thank Carson

Reece: For peeking in my journal? Never

Laughing, Keira sees herself out and when the coast is clear Samir comes out.

Reece: You’re sounding really good boss

Samir: Thanks blondie. I’m just going to mark the property, back in a sec

That’s it, make sure that murderer knows to stay away. That’s not why I’m doing it. No? Could have fooled me. I’m just marking what’s mine. Don’t let those dinner guests lay claim to one inch of your territory. Yeah yeah yeah.

Heading back inside Samir is glad the place smells like him and grabs a book off the shelf.

Reece: Any luck seeing stuff in there yet?

Samir: I don’t- wait… this could be something

He turns the book on a weird angle and begins to read.

Samir: The Moonwood Collective is here to help those in need, to teach control, for the betterment of werewolves around the world. Any who come to Moonwood Mill have a pack waiting for them.

Reece: That sounds… good?

Samir shrugs and goes to get started on dinner.

Samir: I don’t want a pack. I don’t need a pack. I have you

Reece: Yeah but… some kids would be nice one day right?

Samir: Yeah, of course they would. They’d be ours

Reece: *smiles* How’s the Gollum/Smeagol situation thing going

Samir: We watched the film but I still don’t get it

Reece: *sighs* How’s the inner wolf

Samir: Peeved at the idea of dinner guests

Reece: What ya making?

Samir: Steak Tartare. Closest I can get to raw meat without seeming like I didn’t try

Reece: You don’t think they’re vegetarians do you

Samir: I… No? Why didn’t we ask

Reece: You wanted them off your territory

Samir: Hmm, guess this will just have to do

Reece: Table is all set, we’ll be ready

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #ReeceFoster #SamirHadji #KeiraFoster #R0908 #active simblr

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headfulloflettuce · 3 months ago

Text

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian

26. Toxic Tea

Note: I edited a couple chapters for grammar. Although I always edit before posting I don’t always catch my mistakes, so you may see some very minor changes. I also changed the ‘Oh my God’ quote in the summary, and subsequent chapter, to ‘By the Mother’ because I want to be consistent with the fae using appropriate phrases to differentiate them from the humans.

I also realized that in Chapter 8 - The Hunt, Calypso is referred to as Tatianna several times. I have fixed this now and she is addressed appropriately as Lady Calypso. I apologize for the discrepancy.

“What do you want to do first? I was thinking we can grab lunch and then meet the critters I mentioned last time.”

“That sounds like a pan to me.” Cosette said, pulling off her cloak, following Briar down the hallway of the palace.

I still cannot orient myself in this place. How this woman knew where she was going was beyond me.

Cosette couldn’t help the slight feeling of envy as she looked at Briar’s clothes. A detailed blouse accompanied by a warm skirt that went down to her knees.

I bet just those boots alone could fund the renovations for our second floor in the perfumery.

She shook her head.

Stop it Cosette. What are you even thinking about? Wanting nice things is great and all but this is your friend.

‘Friend’.

The term felt weird to Cosette when she looked at Briar but she couldn’t quite place why.

“Briar, Cosette, what are you two doing here?” Viviane approached the duo, a servant and a modestly dressed fae behind her. The Lady of Winter wore a silvery blue dress with a low slit, the top of which had various designs of snowflakes and swirls that faded into the dark fabric at the bottom. Her arms were carefully wrapped around a small bundle.

“I invited Cosette to hang out, remember?” Briar walked over to Viviane, giving the bundle a small kiss, “I am going to show her the barn with the retired animals.”

“Oh, but you have your etiquette class right now.” Viviane’s expression shifted to one of worry.

“I do? But I was certain that I rescheduled it.”

“It seems I must have missed a memo.” the modestly dressed fae spoke up.

“Well, that is quite unfortunate. I apologize that you came all the way out here.” Viviane gave the teacher a hesitant, but dismissive nod.

“It’s no problem really.” the tutor sighed, giving the Lady of Winter a smile.

Briar glanced nervously between the two faes, uncomfortable with the situation.

“W-Wait.” Briar said, turning to Cosette, “Would it be alright if I did the class, and then we hung out? It only lasts an hour and a half.”

“Yeah, sure, it’s no problem.” Cosette nodded.

Viviane gave Cosette an appreciative smile, “I am so sorry about all this.”

“No, it’s alright. Accidents happen. I can wait a bit.”

Lord knows how many times I messed up my schedule back on Earth.

The group, led by Viviane and the tutor, entered a room further down the hallway which was cleared of most common decorations typically present in a Winter Court’s palace room. The only things that remained were two tables, one in the center of the room and the other next to a large book cabinet.

Viviane sat down in one of the seats beside the cabinet, gesturing for Cosette to do the same. Meanwhile, Briar approached the table in the center, where the tutor began her lecture, showing Briar the proper way of bowing depending on the status of the fae she was encountering. Cosette watched as Briar imitated the movements of the tutor, while Viviane watched Cosette with a curious expression.

Cosette quickly turned her attention back to the ruler before her. Now that she was up close, Cosette could see the little child wrapped up in the blanket, resting in Viviane’s arms.

Oh, she's adorable.

“Congratulations Lady of Winter on the birth of your child.”

News spread across the court fast about Lumi. Every faerie on the street was talking about her, and messengers had been sent out to the more distant territories to relay the news of her birth personally.

According to the book Cosette had been studying, in all courts it was traditional to hold a welcoming ceremony for the child of a ruler soon after their birth.

“Thank you Cosette, and please, call me Viviane in such an informal setting.”

Cosette nodded, surprised Viviane would permit something like that.

I am definitely not going to call you by your first name ma’am.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Pardon?”

“Here.” Viviane stood up, walking over to Cosette’s seat, gently holding the baby out for her to take.

Ophelia gave me a whole lecture about how territorial fae parents were over their children when they were first born, and Viviane is just giving me hers to hold?

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes, it is.” Viviane tried to ease Cosette’s worries, “I am giving you permission Cosette. If I truly didn’t trust you or couldn’t control my instincts I wouldn’t be doing this.”

But can you truly control yourself?

Viviane laughed at the unspoken question, placing the babe into Cosette’s hands, “I promise you Cosette that I have good self control, I have had centuries to practice after all.”

Cosette held the baby, looking down at her cute little nose and small fingers. She gently reached down to hold Lumi’s hand.

“She’s so cute.” Cosette smiled as Lumi squeezed her finger with her hand, “A mighty grip on this one.”

“She’ll be beating Kallias in thumb wars soon.”

Cosette laughed quietly so as not to disturb Lumi.

The second exercise the teacher had Briar practice was walking. She was forced to pace back and forth across the room in heels, a book balancing on her head. Every once in a while the instructor would correct her posture.

Guess Ophelia’s training for me wasn’t far off what actual fae tutors did. Though, in my case I had no book; I just fell into the snow if I held myself the wrong way.

Suddenly Lumi’s face soured and she let go of Cosette’s finger. What came next was an ear piercing wail.

Cosette panicked.

“No, no. Shh, shh, it’s okay.” she tried to soothe the child but it only made Lumi cry louder.

“Oh, she’s a fussy baby, don’t mind her.” Viviane took Lumi away from Cosette, holding her close, carefully bouncing her up and down.

Cosette watched as the child stopped crying, her shrieks settling into calm coos.

“You just aren’t used to Cosette yet, isn’t that right?” Viviane sat back down, gently stroking Lumi’s head, the baby snuggling close to her mother.

“Are you planning a welcoming ceremony for her?” Cosette picked up the conversation again.

“Yes, we’re currently working on the preparations but we’re not in a rush. She’s still so small after all, I don’t want to overwhelm her with a bunch of guests.”

At least the whole affair was kept inside the court. The baby wouldn’t have to deal with a bunch of High Lords trying to coddle it, just the neighborhood politicians trying to kiss up to her parents.

Wonder which was worse?

Glancing at the cabinet they were sitting by, Cosette could read the titles of various textbooks: ‘A Lady’s Guide to Proper Behavior’, ‘Politics and Tea: A Partnership’, ‘The History of Winter Court’s Trade’.

Vviane followed her gaze.

“Do you read a lot, Cosette?”

“A bit. I have been trying to read before going to bed each night. Ophelia got me a book about Prythian’s history.”

“Is it treating you well?”

“Yes, it’s quite interesting. There is so much I still have to learn about all the different courts. Despite the similarities between Prythian and the Faerie Realms the differences are numerous.” Cosette said.

“If you would like, you may borrow some of these texts.”

“Really?” Cosette perked up.

“Of course.” Viviane smiled sweetly, “It would be my pleasure.” she opened up the cabinet, permitting Cosette to pick out the books she wanted.

This was a definite win.

Firstly, because it would help Cosette understand Winter Court better, but also because it was another chance at potentially finding a clue to how to get home.

Getting access to Kallias’s and Viviane’s library would be ideal, but I can settle for this.

“You’re holding it wrong.” the tutor’s voice rang out, making Cosette snap to attention and almost drop the book she was holding, “Try again.”

Briar nodded, her eyes vacant as she tried to pick up the tea cup again.

“Adjust your third finger. How many times do I need to remind you?”

“Sorry…” Briar muttered, quickly trying to fix her grip.

‘Tsk, tsk, tsk, dear, are you a savage? Where are your manners? Do you not know how to hold a cup properly?’

‘Wrong posture dear. You humans really are quite stupid.’

‘You should be grateful darling that I am bothering with your manners. You would look like a complete fool otherwise. Now try again.’

Cosette gritted her teeth at the reminder, disdain swirling in her guts at the memory. She got up and approached the center table, picking up a cup as well.

“Like this?” Cosette asked.

“No, you need to position your fingers like this.”

“Hm, like this?”

“No.” the tutor was beginning to sound upset.

Good. I am doing the worst I can.

Briar looked a bit relieved, the teacher’s annoyance being directed at another subject.

“How about this?”

“Better, but still subpar.”

“Briar, why don’t you try again?” Cosette smiled at the black haired girl.

“Right…”

The tutor’s tone was exasperated as she started “Briar, you’re-”

“Briar, try to move your fourth finger over slightly.” Cosette interrupted.

Forgive me Viviane for bossing around a tutor you hired, but I cannot in my good conscience stand by.

Briar blinked.

“Your third finger has no space in the place you’re trying to put it. Move your fourth finger a bit.”

Briar smiled appreciatively at the correction, quickly readjusting her fingers.

“Hmpf…better.” the tutor admitted begrudgingly, continuing her lecture at Briar about tea cups and public gatherings.

Cosette remained standing by her side, keeping Briar company.

In retrospect, it seemed rude to just sit to the side while she practiced. If we had waited in a separate room that would have been fine. However, sitting tauntingly right in front of Briar was just mean.

Viviane smiled as the two girls practiced under the tutor’s instruction, her expression unreadable besides the faux happiness she had put forth.

Not that either of them was paying enough attention to notice the mischievous glee that the Lady of Winter had expertly covered.

“Thank you for the lesson.” Briar happily pulled off the heels.

“I will see you next week.” the tutor bowed to Viviane before leaving.

“Hm, since I had the class I am not sure if we have enough time for both lunch and visiting the critters.” Briar put on her warm boots again, “What do you want to do Cosette?”

“How about we visit the barn? We can have lunch together another time.”

“Okay!”

“Cosette, before you go.” Viviane stood up, carefully giving Lumi to her personal servant, “I wanted to invite you to a tea party I am hosting next week.”

“A tea party?” Cosette didn’t like the way her voice pitched in response to such news.

Control your nerves woman! Steel them!

“Yes, it’s just me and my close friends so please don’t feel nervous. It’s meant to be somewhat casual.”

That makes me more nervous.

Viviane passed Cosette a letter, “Bring this as evidence of your attendance.”

Curiosity getting the better of her, Cosette decided to ask, “Is there a particular reason why you give me a formal letter approving entry for this, but when I visit Briar I need no documents?”

Aquilo did the same when he invited me and Ophelia over but there I thought it was given since we didn’t have a set date at which to visit the palace.

“It’s a formal event, so there must be proper documentation. Whenever you visit Briar the guards are informed ahead of time so security is still maintained.”

“I see.” Cosette put the letter away, “I greatly appreciate your invitation Lady of Winter. You can expect me to be in attendance.”

“Wonderful.” Viviane clapped her hands together.

“Come on, let’s go or we’ll lose even more time!” Briar grabbed Cosette, dragging her away.

It is nice that there are no extra steps to seeing Briar. It made the whole ordeal feel more familiar. Like I was hanging out with classmates back in college. Except the classmate was the unofficial child of two monarchs.

Some really casual stuff.

The two walked down to the training area of the palace, soldiers greeting Briar happily as she practically ran to the stable-like building.

“Welcome!” Briar pulled the large doors open to reveal a hay-filled wooden interior. Horses, foxes and even a couple large white bears were resting inside.

“Is it not dangerous to keep foxes and horses next to the bears?”

“They train the bears to not eat the horses or foxes to ensure that military or diplomatic missions are carried out without problems.” Briar said, kneeling to pet Snow, who happily bound over to them.

“Do the foxes often work with the bears?” Cosette knelt with Briar, giving Snow some pats. The fox immediately took advantage of the opportunity and rolled onto its back, exposing its belly. Cosette obliged, giving the animal its well deserved belly rubs.

“Not too often but since foxes are used as message carriers they need to pass through the forests that bears patrol without getting harmed.” Briar explained, proud to be able to provide an answer.

“Why is Snow retired again?” Cosette petted the fox behind the ears, earning a purr.

The fox is clearly bursting with energy. It seemed a shame to keep her here instead of out on the field.

“Aquilo said she suffered a leg injury when delivering a letter towards the end of Amarantha's reign. One of her beasts got to her but she still made it to Viviane which allowed her to ensure that Amarantha couldn’t locate the remaining Winter fae in the court. She has a lot of energy but can’t run for long periods now.”

Cosette nodded, eventually standing up, brushing off the hay that stuck to her clothes. Snow yipped in annoyance, turning back to Briar to receive her rightfully owed affection.

While Briar hugged the friendly fox, Cosette walked further into the stables, gazing in wonder at the horses resting in their stalls. They reminded her of yakutian horses, extremely fluffy and large.

They gazed at her with their black round eyes, their white fur and hair clearly well taken care of.

I can’t believe a horse looks more well groomed than me.

One of the horses tilted its head.

Cosette replicated the motion.

You’re prettier and fluffier than Autumn Court’s horses.

The horse snorted.

“That used to be Viviane’s horse but it got injured during the attack on Winter Court by Hybern’s soldiers.” Briar approached the blonde, carrying Snow in her hands.

The fox hopped out of Briar’s arms and into the horse’s stall, curling up by its side. The horse snorted again but didn’t kick the fox out.

“She’s beautiful.” Cosette said, watching the horse as it lay its head next to the fox.

“As all things are in Winter Court.” Briar beamed.

“Seriously, her tutors just seem harsh. I thought maybe she was exaggerating a bit as the student but they really are snappy towards her.” Cosette complained to Ophelia, stirring the pot before her.

“Most fae tutors behave that way.”

“Most bad tutors behave that way; their race doesn’t matter.”

“Did anything interesting happen? Or did you just practice tea etiquette and play with foxes?”

“Viviane let me hold her baby. She also invited me to a tea party.” Cosette noted.

Ophelia put down the box of perfumes she was unpacking to look at Cosette with a tired, yet confused expression, “Why do you always lead with the most mundane of facts when something more important has occurred?”

Cosette shrugged.

“Are you going to the tea party?”

“I said yes because I wasn’t sure if I could really say no.”

“That’s a fair point.” Ophelia smirked, resuming her work, “But in all seriousness it’ll be beneficial to establish yourself with Viviane.”

“Lumi started crying when I held her.” Cosette further shared, “She’s such an adorable baby…when she’s not screaming.”

“You know, they say that if a fae infant cries when you hold them, that’s a bad omen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Fae babies are considered to be particularly sensitive to the magic and intentions of the people around them.”

“Don’t tell me the baby knows I am a human…” Cosette stared at Ophelia in horror.

It was Ophelia’s turn to shrug, “She might. Not that she’ll remember that fact to tell it to anyone by the time she grows up.”

That doesn’t make me feel better!

Cosette looked down at the boiling pot of sandalwood. She had managed to get her hands on the material after ages of searching. Since the tree didn't handle cold climates well there had been a deficit of sandalwood in the market, with Summer and Day Courts being the only proper producers of it at the moment.

I’ll have to mark up the price on this perfume to match the amount I paid for the wood.

“I can’t believe a baby knows I am a human.”

“It’s more of a loose rule than a hard fact though.” Ophelia tried to offer comfort, “Many babies cry just because they want to. No one is going to find you out because Viviane’s child doesn’t like you.”

“I guess…”

“More importantly, you should get a proper dress for the tea party.”

Cosette nodded in agreement, turning off the pot.

I’ll have to finish this later.

The bell to the front door jingled, followed by Theo’s voice, “Anyone home?”

“We’re in the back!” Ophelia responded.

Theo and his father poked their heads through the doorway to the back room.

“Hello!” Theo smiled brightly, “Do you two need any help? Since we sent out the prototypes we haven’t had anything to do so I-we want to help.”

“Sure, you can help Ophelia restock the shelves.” Cosette said, the elder glancing curiously at the pots she had been working over.

“On it boss!” Theo immediately got to work.

The light outside had begun fading as the group quickly got through the necessary clean up and preparations for the next day.

“Wow, I can’t believe Viviane herself invited you.” Theo murmured, his eyes full of wonder as he helped Ophelia put bottles onto the higher shelves.

The elder didn’t have any retort to make this time, working quietly.

“Do you feel ready?” Theo asked Cosette.

“I guess?” Cosette was very much not feeling ready. In fact, her feelings regarding the whole invitation were mostly terror and dread.

“It’s getting late and Ophelia mentioned you two still need to go buy a dress for that party. You two can go on ahead while we close up.” the elder offered.

The man looked rough, his hair a mess and his cheeks sunk in.

I can’t make this man work overtime.

“Absolutely not. Theo said you’re still not feeling well. You two can go home early while we close up.”

The elder sighed, fixing Cosette with a grouchy stare, “Ugh the youth, always arguing with their elders. I am perfectly fit to work. Now go before I change my mind.”

Cosette looked to Ophelia for support but she agreed, “If you insist sir.”

The elder took Ophelia’s box away from her and quickly unpacked it. Theo was practically sparkling with pride at his father’s initiative.

“You two go on ahead, we’ve got this place covered.” Theo resumed cleaning the shop happily.

Cosette quickly grabbed hers and Ophelia’s cloaks, bid Theo and the elder a good evening and rushed out onto the streets, walking towards one of the capital’s shopping centers.

With Lumi’s birth the snow had been falling nonstop, filling the streets with snow. The Winter Fae took this as a blessing from the Spirit of Winter and celebrated the child’s arrival.

The Spirit of Winter clearly didn’t care if its court’s citizens could walk down the sidewalks.

Ophelia held Cosette’s hand, helping the human get through the heaps of snow. The two of them were sticking to the edges of the main roads where carts and carriages had already paved a flat path.

Ophelia was looking better since their arrival in Winter Court. She had regained some weight and a lively blush returned to her russet skin.

Cosette smiled, “You look good.”

Ophelia tugged on her friend’s arm, pulling her out of a snow pile and into a cleared out section of the street, “Thanks.”

“How fancy does the dress have to be?”

“Did Viviane say who she was inviting?”

“She said it was just her and some close friends.”

Ophelia frowned, “It’ll need to be fancy enough to pass for a low noble’s dress but not enough to be competing with them.”

“Why shouldn’t I be competing with them?” Cosette quickly added upon seeing Ophelia’s expression, “Not that I want to of course.”

“Cosette, how do you think it will look if a Lesser Fae tries to outcompete the High Fae that invited her to a party?” Ophelia broke it down for her.

“Bad. Very bad.”

“Exactly, that’s why your dress needs to look like you put in effort, but not too much. Yet, it still needs to match their style.”

“This is all very complicated.”

“Remind me to get you a fashion textbook for your next birthday.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cosette saluted Ophelia earning her an eyeroll.

Ophelia made the executive decision that they were going to go to a shopping center who’s price range was between the places they tended to go to and the places they only dared to look at through windows.

The boutique was pretty, with the owners clearly putting effort into its design and aesthetic. Compared to shops that merely put all the clothes they had on racks, here the shop put work into their displays, adding decorative flowers and ribbons to the dresses, showcasing potential shoes or accessories that would go well with the outfit.

All that of course was mirrored in the dresses' price tags.

Cosette walked through the rows, looking at the various gowns, eyeing the ones with lots of frills - impressed by the handiwork.

‘Look Your Highness! Isn’t your toy beautiful now?’

She turned away from the dresses, walking down a different row.

I don’t have to wear it if I don’t want to.

Cosette tried to convince herself of that, but still had to wipe away the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes.

Ophelia said I need to match their aesthetic, from what I have seen of Viviane she doesn’t seem to wear overly puffy or frilly dresses. They tend to be more sleek and smooth in design.

Cosette ran a hand down the fabrics of several gowns.

It would make sense to wear blue - it’ll make it easier to fit into their group.

The texture of the smooth cloth and the intellectualization of the situation distracted Cosette from memories of Calypso, letting her finally take a deep breath.

You’re fine.

Cosette made her way out of the row she had been examining to see Ophelia gazing at a dress. It reminded her of something she would have seen an Autumn Court noble lady wear during an outing, despite its Winter Court coloring. The dark blue, short cape had a tartan pattern while the dress was decorated with gray icy leaves, the coloring of which brought some light to the overall darker dress. The edges of the long sleeves were covered in white furs, perfect for keeping a person’s hands warm.

Eris used to wear a longer cape. These ones tended to be reserved for noble ladies who didn’t actually hunt-

Cosette decided to speak up to distract herself once more, “It’s beautiful.”

Ophelia hummed, “It’s expensive.”

Cosette looked at the price tag - 50 gold.

“We can afford it considering how much Viviane and Kallias paid us.”

Ophelia stared down at it silently.

“You said you wanted to fill your wardrobe with dresses. I would feel awkward being the only one with something that should be worn for fancy outings.”

Ophelia still looked hesitant.

“We have enough money for food.” Cosette gently squeezed her friend’s arm, understanding her concern, “I wouldn’t be encouraging you if we couldn’t afford it.”

“Alright, but not this one.”

“Okay.” Cosette agreed, “Is there something about it you don’t like?”

I would think that a reminder of home would be a good thing? To some extent? Actually, considering Ophelia’s past in Autumn that was a stupid thought. It probably wasn’t easy for her to see reminders of what she left behind, or more accurately escaped.

“I want something a little more practical.” Ophelia gave her a pointed look, “I am not the one being invited to tea parties.”

Fair point.

The two continued their search, with Ophelia settling for a dress the design of which was still reminiscent of Autumn’s clothing, but the overcoat of which seemed easier to move around in compared to the first option.

Cosette tried to pick out something she could wear around the perfumery later but Ophelia stopped her, “You’re going to an event hosted by Viviane Cosette, you can’t wear that.”

“But you got something similar.”

Ophelia rubbed her temple, “Yes, but I am not going to be in attendance with a Lady of a Court. You are. You need to pick something that looks elegant, and is meant to be worn for sitting and looking pretty.” Ophelia continued, “If you want to make a fashion statement, do so after attending and wearing the traditionally expected clothes, okay?”

“When can I start making bold statements?”

“You already are!” Ophelia’s exasperated tone made Cosette quiet.

Ophelia took a deep breath, “Cosette, you’re a Lesser fae being invited to have tea with High Fae. A Lady of a Court nonetheless. That’s serious. I need you to understand that.”

“I do understand.”

Ophelia bit her lip.

“Lesser fae are looked down upon by many High Fae. This…this isn’t just some casual invitation, Cosette.”

The fact that Cosette was not even a Lesser Fae to begin with was left unsaid in the public space.

“I know that.”

Ophelia looked into her eyes, softening a bit, “Good, then please act like it.”

Cosette nodded, her more serious expression making Ophelia relax.

The duo returned to their browsing, with Cosette giving Ophelia some space, walking down a different row than her.

It would be nice for the dress to have a lighter shade of blue.

Cosette rummaged through the options before her.

Since I have to dress up anyways, it would be cool if I could lean into fashion choices I couldn’t afford back home. It would be so much fun to wear something lolita inspired or one of those old European ball gowns.

However, Ophelia says I need to match Viviane's style, which means those options are off the table for now.

On the other hand, I would like some of my preferences to still shine through.

Cosette stared at the juliet sleeved dress she found with hunger.

It’s so pretty.

“Did you find anything?” Ophelia’s voice sounded behind her.

“Oh uh, yeah. This.” Cosette showed her the dress she was holding, “Though, I don’t think it really fits the type of clothes Viviane wears.”

Ophelia nodded, “Do you like puffy sleeves?”

“I think they’re cute.”

“Fair enough.” Ophelia relented, “Here, I think I saw something that will fit better.”

Cosette followed the fae to the row right next to hers.

“What do you think of this?” Ophelia pulled a dress off the shelf that made Cosette’s eyes light up.

“You know me so well.”

“Of course I do.” the fae pushed the dress into Cosette’s arms, “Let’s make our purchases and head out.”

Cosette agreed, following her to the counter, looking down at the gown. It was a cornflower blue color with bishop sleeves. A small bow was tied around the waist beneath which the fabric went down slightly past the length of her ankles.

Not because her ankles were sexy but because otherwise her legs would get cold.

Ophelia handed the cashier the money and took one bag, handing the other to Cosette.

“We should stop by the store to get some food before we head back to the perfumery.” Cosette skipped out of the boutique and down the cleared out road, satisfied with her purchase.

With it being evening there were few carriages on the smaller roads, allowing Cosette to walk there instead of the snow covered sidewalks.

Ophelia carried her own purchase quietly.

“When we get back I am going to design a present for Briar.”

“Cosette, I-”

“Since her teachers aren’t teaching her properly, I will! Besides, it’ll be a great way for me to learn too!” Cosette exclaimed, continuing to walk.

If she couldn’t learn history or traditions by being told them, it was nothing some proper DnD immersion wouldn’t fix.

Cosette wasn’t the biggest fan of the game, but she played every now and then with her friends. They had even dragged her to a renaissance fair one time.

Cosette slowed her skipping.

Was it fair to share something she held so dearly with them with another person?

Ophelia remained silent.

Cosette glanced at Ophelia.

“Ophelia?”

She didn’t respond.

Cosette slowed her walk, matching Ophelia’s pace, looking at her friend with concern, “I am sorry, I interrupted you. What did you want to say?”

Ophelia smiled back, ��It’s nothing, really.”

Cosette frowned, “No, this is definitely something.”

“I said, it’s nothing.” Ophelia walked ahead.

“Ophelia,” Cosette kept up with her, grabbing her arm gently to slow her, “I don’t prod into personal things. Or…at least I try not to. We discuss personal traumas when both agree to it and we feel comfortable enough. However, I will not have us not communicate on something that actively offended the other in the present.”

Ophelia avoided her gaze.

“I did something that upset you. Now please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Ophelia looked at her with saddened eyes.

“I don’t want us to fall apart because of a misunderstanding.” Cosette lowered her voice, “You mean a lot to me and I don’t want to lose you like that.”

“Right. Sorry.” Ophelia blinked the mist away from her eyes, “I…don’t feel it’s right of me to say this though in retrospect.”

“Say it first, and then we can talk about it.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Briar and Viviane lately, and I get it. I really do. I just wish we could hang out a bit more as well. Outside of the perfumery, you know? You also mean a lot to me and I just worry…I am sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you about the dress. I really just want to help.”

Cosette felt terrible.

“Ophelia, you could never be replaced. Where would I be without you?”

Certainly not by Briar or Viviane of all people.

Ophelia looked like a kicked puppy.

Cosette hugged her, tightly squishing her friend, “I promise when I come back from the palace we will have a day for just the two of us. I am really sorry that I haven’t been spending as much time with you. I got so caught up with everything, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I am sorry for being harsh.”

“You’re worried for me, and rightfully so.”

If I was a faerie helping a human pretend to be a fae I would also be worried if they weren’t taking this situation seriously.

Ophelia put her face on Cosette’s shoulder, “Can we invite Blanche too?”

“Absolutely.”

Ophelia hugged back, holding her human, “Thank you, I really am sorry about this.”

“Don’t apologize, I am glad you talked to me.”

“I am glad we talked too. I feel a lot better now…”

Cosette felt a small laugh escape her, “Who would have thought not bottling up your emotions was helpful?”

Ophelia laughed as well, wiping away the tears that had dripped down her face, “Yeah, who would have thought?”

Cosette shook her head, the two enjoying each other’s embrace in the cold air, the street empty, “It’s you and me until the very end.”

“To the edge of this world?” Ophelia smiled.

“To the edge.”

“Wow.” Cosette stared at the indoor garden filled with plants and trees of different varieties and colors. Her awe was not missed by the servant escorting her, who smiled proudly.

It was so warm inside that Cosette immediately pulled off her cloak, breathing in the sweet scent of flowers. Despite the flashes of color here and there the whole place still carried an aura of cold distance. The indoor garden being made of almost entirely glass created a crystal-like appearance to the place and with the majority of the plants sharing a cooler color scheme the garden still looked like a winter wonderland.

“Cosette, welcome!” Viviane stood up from a table in the center of the garden near a miniature water fountain, her icy blue dress, a more modest version of the one Cosette had seen her in with Briar. A small crown rested on her head, sparkling when the light fell on it perfectly.

“I greet the Lady of Winter.” Cosette bowed.

“You can rise.” Viviane led the woman over to the table she had been sitting at, “Please meet my sister Evelyn. I am sure you have already met Solene.”

Evelyn smiled, her royal blue dress decorated with swirling patterns matched her sister’s, albeit it was less extravagant.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Evelyn.” Cosette curtsied as per instruction of the etiquette book she snagged with Viviane’s permission, “I greet you Lady Solene, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

Apparently I had been putting my feet in the wrong position.

Cosette cried to Ophelia from embarrassment upon her realization that she had greeted Kallias and Viviane improperly the first time they met. To which Ophelia told her ‘bullshit’ and that she greeted them fine - the intricacies of a bow only started to matter between High Faeries in a government setting.

Viviane’s smile widened and she gestured for Cosette to sit.

Cosette tried to put her cloak on a chair only for a servant to quickly snatch it up and carry it away. Looking to Viviane, the Lady merely tilted her head, watching Cosette like a hawk.

Cosette took her seat, an uncomfortable feeling slowly building inside her.

Briar is right, they totally stare at you as if you were an exotic animal.

Another servant quickly appeared, refilling Viviane’s flowery tea cup with tea. Evelyn’s being filled next, then Solene’s and Cosette’s last.

Cosette was grateful to her past self’s decision to have started reading the books Viviane gave her. Partially because she could behave more appropriately but also because she could appreciate the effort and time that was put into creating this tea set. From the intricate designs painted onto the cups to the way the glass was shaped into its current form.

Cosette paused.

Did she give me those books on purpose? To prepare me for this tea party?

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth but it didn’t seem that absurd of a theory. On the other hand, perhaps Viviane simply wanted her to have something in common to bond over with Briar?

It’s not like she gave me instructions to read them, but wouldn’t one have to if they were being invited to such an event?

Cosette’s thoughts were interrupted by Evelyn, “Cosette, Viviane mentioned you’re not originally from Prythian. Is there a particular reason you’ve traveled here?”

“I wanted to travel and see other places besides the Faerie Realms. With many faeries returning after the war with Hybern I decided to come with them.”

Cosette mentally high-fived Ophelia.

“Were you a perfumer back home as well?” Solene joined in.

“Sort of.” Cosette decided to keep the explanation vague, “I worked with herbs and medicines from which I expanded into perfumery.”

“Oh? So you’re a healer by origin?”

“I was an apprentice.”

“Why not stay to finish your education?” Solene sipped her tea.

The plan was to finish my education before the universe decided I didn’t need a bachelor's degree!

“My teachers and I decided it would be best for me to study abroad in Prythian.”

“Do you come from a wealthy family then?” Solene pressed.

Shit, what does my wealth back home even translate to in Prythian? How rich are the fae that live in the Faerie Realms?

“Not inherently wealthy, but well off.”

Didn’t Ianthe hide near the Faerie Realms while the conflict with Amarantha was going on? Her father was an important figure of sorts in Spring so they can’t exactly be poor.

“Solene, if she came from a family of doctors then of course they’ll be well off.” Evelyn giggled, “I am sure Cosette’s parents are well known in their village if they raised such a talented female.”

“We’re average compared to some of the other healers in our village.” Cosette deflected the compliment.

Never ask my parents to do anything medical related, they would get you killed faster. Mom would prescribe you wine with cheese and as Dad always said, ‘nothing a good old shoot out wouldn’t fix’.

“If your definition of average is what you have brought to the table then I want to see what you consider to be extraordinary.” Solene scoffed.

A silence settled over the group as a servant brought in a platter full of sweets. Cosette eyed the cookies. Like everything else in this palace, they were beautiful; shaped as different snowflakes, with blue frosting, the treat looked straight off the cover of a cooking magazine Cosette was sure she had seen in a bookstore back home.

Cosette however didn’t reach for the cookie like Evelyn did, her stomach instead choosing to do cartwheels under Solene’s stoic gaze.

I can’t even tell if I am giving you the right answers or not. Can’t you give me a smile? I’ll even take a frown from you! Negative feedback loop. I am begging you over here Solene!

“So, um.” Cosette mumbled, earning a small shift from Viviane as she stirred her tea, “Solene, how is Amelio?”

Solene smiled, making Cosette shiver.

Nevermind, go back to being apathetic.

“He's doing well, working on the trade route to Velaris.”

“Velaris?”

“Yeah, with the city no longer being a secret he is trying out various ways to get to the port there to trade.”

“Haha, I remember when he found out about the city he was so mad.” Evelyn smiled.

“Well of course. It's not every day as a business fae you find out that there was a huge market and trading space that you didn't know existed.” Solene said.

“How long have the two of you been married?” Cosette asked.

“About fifty years.”

“You got married during Amarantha’s rule?”

“Right about the time she truly rose to power.”

Wow, it’s almost like with Kallias and Viviane. A declaration of love in a tense environment where countless foes are trying to destroy your new found happiness.

“Did one of you end up having to leave and stay under the mountain?” Cosette leaned in slightly, eager to hear the rest of the romantic tale.

“No, we were some of the lucky ones who got to remain.”

“Oh…well that’s still very romantic.”

Solene laughed, the sound making Cosette’s skin crawl.

Did I say something?

“Oh, forgive me.” Solene’s laughter slowly calmed, her eyes meeting Cosette’s, “Our marriage is a notorious example of a business arrangement within Winter Court so hearing someone call it ‘romantic’ is a bit humorous to me.”

Well, as always, good thing I didn’t lie and say I am from Winter Court. Otherwise all these gaps in my knowledge would have screwed me over long ago.

“But…he acts so tenderly towards you.” Cosette reproached.

“Well, it’s better to have good relations with your partner, no?”

“I…yes.”

Solene’s expression softened slightly as she explained, “Marriages born out of business deals are not all equal. Some can be quite fun.”

Cosette nodded.

I guess if the partner you’re married to is a good person then it’s not inherently bad.

Sensing Cosette’s hesitance Solene continued, “Besides, I am the one in control within the relationship.”

Wait, so did the elder have a point? Was Solene really in control of their whole arrangement??

“What do you mean?”

Cosette’s question earned a stifled laugh from Evelyn.

Cosette was beginning to feel stupid.

“I am Amelio’s window to high society and method of making valuable business connections that he as Lesser Fae otherwise wouldn’t get a chance to, while he is my money-maker. My family has a long history of working in the trading business and upon seeing Amelio’s ideas and integrity my father decided to bring him in as he knew I was shit at the job.” Solene said, “My strengths always lay in court matters rather than negotiations over prices.”

Cosette nodded, processing this information.

“It’s simply an added benefit that he’s good in bed.”

Cosette choked on her tea.

Viviane patted her back as Solene leaned back in her chair, smug at Cosette’s response.

“Cosette, what do you think of marriage?” Viviane retracted her hand as Cosette caught her breath.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

No offense, marriage is not at the forefront of my mind these days.

“Would you want to marry for love?” Evelyn smirked.

“I don’t think I am at a place in my life where I am ready to get married at all.”

“How old are you?” Solene set down her tea cup, her arms resting lazily on the armchair. Her prussian blue dress fit her figure perfectly with the earrings drawing attention to her face, her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the woman before her.

“One hundred.” Cosette lied, the number feeling heavy on her tongue.

The fact she was going to turn 23 soon wasn’t lost on her.

I still can’t believe I spent 2 years in Autumn Court. 2 years absolutely wasted!

Evelyn let out a small whistle, earning a look from Viviane. Even Solene looked a bit surprised, if one had to describe her subtle facial expression shift.

“Only one hundred? As a Lesser Fae? Yet you’re already traveling by yourself?” Solene tilted her head, “You parents must be very confident in your abilities.”

“They have good reason to be.” Evelyn said, “It’s not like Cosette is struggling to take care of herself.”

“Still, I did expect you to be a bit older…” Viviane murmured.

“I am an adult.” Cosette stated matter of factly.

“True.” Viviane conceded, “You are of legal age.”

“Say Cosette, if your farming project takes off, how do you plan to distribute the tool?” Evelyn changed the conversation topic.

“Well, I planned to just sell them.” Cosette in truth hadn't started thinking about that.

“At a store?” Evelyn clarified.

“I…am not sure. I guess I'd need a way to get it out to farms outside the capital since a traditional store wouldn't really work in this case.”

“Perhaps you could use some of the intra-court paths and routes for transporting the tools?” Evelyn suggested, “You could even make a moveable store using them.”

“Right…makes sense.”

A moveable distributing center would be useful. Though, I don’t actually know what routes are used within Winter Court to trade.

Who owns them?

Who manages them?

I’d assume it was all government owned.

Cosette forced herself to take a sip of tea.

I am seriously out of my element here.

“On the topic of trade, how is the route that goes to Summer?” Viviane shifted the conversation away from questioning Cosette.

Cosette withheld a sigh of relief.

Viviane I would kiss you right now if I could.

Cosette wasn’t sure how much longer she could take being asked questions to things she didn’t know the answer to.

“It’s going well. A bit slow due to Summer’s lack of outgoing produce but that’s understandable considering their overpopulation crisis at the moment.”

Cosette sat quietly, listening to the three women discuss the routes within the Winter Court and their reach.

“Aquilo says security is doing well on the check points.”

“I remember Noel’s family mentioned that the forest spirits had been acting up recently.”

“How so?”

“They said they were restless, but they never elaborated on why or what was upsetting them. The more high level spirits refuse to acknowledge any sort of problem when confronted.”

Wait, who the hell is Noel?

Seeing Cosette’s confusion, Viviane turned to her, “Noel is the daughter of Kallias’s uncle. They help us manage the court’s security and safety by working together with the army.”

Cosette was preparing to get laughed out of the room for her question, “Is Aquilo related to them?”

“Very, very distantly to the point that the answer should be no.” Viviane said, “He’s from one of the less powerful High Fae families that remain. His and Noel’s side of the family simply interact often as they are both in charge of the court’s security.”

“I see.”

I am going to need to go find a family tree for Winter Court and start memorizing it because this is terrible.

Cosette smiled, as the ladies continued their conversation.

All things considered this was a useful experience. I can confirm, for certain, that I am extremely uneducated when it comes to Winter Court matters.

Something that Cosette was very eager to fix, and quickly.

Cosette awkwardly followed Viviane out of the garden and down the hallway, bowing to Solene and Evelyn as they went their separate ways.

“Did you have fun?” The Lady of Winter suddenly spoke up.

“Of course your Majesty. Thank you for inviting me.” Cosette curtsied once more.

Viviane watched her carefully, a soft smile gracing her pale features, “I hope you didn't feel like we put you on the spot back there.”

At least you're understanding of my feelings.

“No, no it was okay.”

“If you ever have any questions, don't be afraid to ask.” Viviane said.

“Thank you, I am sorry I feel like I couldn’t contribute much to the discussions you were holding since I don't know a lot about Winter Court yet despite my profession.” Cosette felt silly.

Viviane shook her head, “No, no. It’s completely okay, Cosette. You’re new here after all. I hope this was a good opportunity for you to learn.”

“Thank you for your understatement.”

“Of course dear.”

Cosette took a minute to register the change in their surroundings as they clearly entered a different section of the palace. There were less guards and servants, the furniture getting more luxurious.

“Cosette!” Briar’s voice rang out, the girl running over to the two women.

“Well, I’ll leave you in Briar’s capable hands. Have fun.” Viviane waved goodbye, walking past them.

“Thank you again for having me Lady of Winter.” Cosette gave Viviane one last bow, straightening out when Briar made it to her.

“I am so glad you’re able to hang out again! What do you want to do? We can visit the stables, or we can get lunch? Oh, we can also go training!” Briar rambled, out of breath.

“I actually have an idea.” Cosette smiled.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I have a game we can play, it’s a lot of fun but we need paper, twenty sided and four sided dice for it. Do you have those?”

“Yeah, of course.” Briar quickly rushed back to her room, Cosette lifting up her dress slightly to keep up with her.

Cosette’s eyes widened upon seeing the girl’s room; a cozy fireplace with two armchairs stood in front of it, with blankets draped over them. A large four poster bed and several bookshelves filled the room, a fluffy rug completing the look.

“How do we play the game?” Briar sat down on her bed, putting the requested items on the neatly made blanket.

Cosette sat down across from her, “Have you ever done roleplay Briar?”

“Um, no?” Briar gave her a weird look.

“Okay, so the game is called Dungeons and Dragons. You create a character and then play through a story during which you can go on different adventures.” Cosette picked up the dice, “We use these to decide your strengths and how well your actions are completed in game.”

Briar nodded, listening intently.

Cosette picked up one of the papers, pushing it to Briar, “What do you want your profession to be? There’s many options like wizard, sorcerer, druid, to name a few.”

“What would you recommend to me?” Briar sounded intrigued, but lost.

Cosette tapped finger against the paper in thought, “What about a fighter?”

“Can I wield a sword then?”

“Absolutely!”

“Okay then I want to be a fighter.”

“Now the fun part: what do you want your character to look like?”

“Um, like me?”

“Sure.” Cosette smiled, “Just so you know you can be anything in this game.”

“Anything?”

“Yep.”

Briar looked skeptical.

“You can be a dragon.”

“I’ll be myself.”

“Fair enough.” Cosette was appreciative that this woman was even entertaining this as an idea, so she wasn’t about to push her to try something even more outside her comfort zone.

“Do you want to keep your name the same?”

Briar hesitated before saying, “I’ll go by Bea in this.”

“Do you want to give your character a motivation? Like a goal of sorts?”

“Can I decide my character’s goals as I play?”

“Yeah, but it is helpful to know a little bit about your persona before we begin.”

“Okay then, how about my character’s dream is to travel?”

Cosette nodded, jotting down Briar’s input on a paper, and explained the basics of her skills such as strength and charisma.

Briar stared at the ‘1’ she rolled for her charisma.

“Can I reroll?”

“No.”

“But it’s a 1!”

“You have a 20 on your strength. You’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Briar huffed.

“Now…are you ready to begin the game?”

Briar nodded, her patience beginning to wear.

“Ahem.” Cosette cleared her throat, “You, Bea, are an adventurer who wants to travel the world, so you have decided to leave home and travel to the biggest kingdom on your continent.”

Briar leaned in, listening.

“You begin your journey through a dangerous forest, one supposedly filled with dangers and monsters. You have been warned by the villagers living nearby that you should never stray off the main path in the forest, but you’re not too worried as you are wearing armor and have your trusty sword on hand. As you venture deeper down the grassy path you encounter a friendly grandma who seems lost. What would you like to do?”

“Talk to her…?”

“You approach the elderly woman and greet her, to which she nervously stutters out ‘Oh dearie I seem lost! Can you help me get home?’”

Briar smiled slightly at Cosette’s attempt to mimic a stereotypical elderly grandma, “I ask her where she lives.”

“‘My little cottage is somewhere around here…’” Cosette felt her voice strain as she imitated the character looking around, trying to orient herself, “The elderly woman seems quite confused as to where her home is.”

“I take her by the hand, and start leading her down the pathway I was walking down.”

“‘Oh right this way dearie! My home is right there!’ The grandma points to a small pathway going off the main road. What do you do?”

“I want to help her get home so I walk off the path with her.”

“You hold the elderly woman’s hand, helping her over logs and rocks as a small cottage comes into view. ‘Oh dearie, thank you so much for your help! I have some food inside, weary traveler. Will you let me repay your kindness?’”

“This game is easy Cosette.” Briar ran a hand through her hair, “I go inside with the nice grandma.”

Cosette smirked, “Once you enter you see a wooden table with some bowls and a large hearth, with cages hanging off the ceiling.”

Briar frowned, “Does she give me food?”

“The woman approached the hearth telling you, ‘Wait right here dearie, I'll be back in a minute.’”

Briar’s frown deepened, “How long is she gone for?”

“She'll be gone for a while so you can do something while she's gone.”

“I explore the cottage.”

“As you take a look around the living space you spot various statues of people across the kitchen counters.”

“I take a closer look at the statues.”

“You walk over to the counter and pick up one of the figures. It's stone. The person is dressed like a typical adventurer would be with some basic armor and a crossbow. Some of the other figures in the collection are dressed like merchants or mercenaries.”

“Huh.” Briar huffed looking at Cosette, “Is she evil? Is she turning people into stone?” Briar gasped, “Is she a fae?!”

Cosette simply smiled.

Seeing that she wasn’t going to get an answer out of Cosette out of game, Briar decided to try another way, “I check what is in the cages hanging above me.”

“You begin to check the cages to find various forest animals trapped inside.”

“Can I let them out?”

“You try to open the cages but the doors do not budge. One of the trapped animals, a black cat, speaks up; ‘It’s no use, traveler. She has us trapped in here with a spell.’”

“How do I break the spell kitty?”

“‘Hmm, perhaps if you get rid of the sorceress we will be freed? Magic weakens after the caster’s death. But you must hurry, otherwise she will turn you into one of those figurines. She will try to feed you poisoned porridge. Good luck traveler.’”

Briar stared at Cosette slightly stunned before speaking, “I sit down at the table.”

“As you sit down at the dinner table the sorceress returns carrying porridge. ‘Here you go dearie, I hope you enjoy it!’”

“Oh thank you so much, but I feel terrible eating alone, will you please join me?” Briar was starting to get into the groove, exaggerating her voice slightly.

“‘Oh of course dearie.’” Cosette had the character play along, “The elderly woman returns carrying another bowl of porridge.”

“Oh my, I am quite parched, could you bring me a glass of water?”

“‘Of course dearie!’ The sorceress leaves to get Bea some water.”

“While she’s gone I switch our bowls.”

Clever.

“The sorceress returns, putting a glass of water before you.”

“I start eating my porridge.”

“The elderly lady smiles and begins eating her food as well, choking as she swallows the second spoonful. ‘What is happening?’”

“Ha! I tricked you!” Briar pointed at Cosette, “You thought I wouldn’t realize the truth? I switched our bowls and now you won’t be able to hurt innocent travelers anymore!”

“‘Noooooo!’” Cosette dramatically flopped onto the bed, freezing in a funny pose, “The moment the woman turned to stone the cages opened and all the forest critters escaped to freedom.”

“Wait, what about the people who were turned to stone?”

“‘Unfortunately they cannot be saved that easily.’ the black cat spoke up, ‘While she kept our cages locked with her magic directly, they were turned to stone using a potion. Such magic is harder to undo.’”

“Can’t we save them?”

“‘There may be a way. If we can find the antidote to this potion then they can be saved.’”

“Do you know what the antidote is, kitty?”

“‘No unfortunately, but we can search for it together.’”

“Don’t you want to stay in the forest?”

“‘I am a cat. My home is not with a place but with a person who will feed me. I choose you to feed me.’”

“You’re a very lazy cat. But alright, I’ll permit you to join me on my quest!”

“You and your new cat companion continue down the pathway of the forest.” Cosette glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner.

“Wait, what happens next?!”

“You’ll have to find out another day Briar, it’s late.” Cosette got up, brushing out her dress.

It’ll take a while to get to the more educational bits since I don’t want the game to feel too heavy handed with history and facts. It’s meant to be fun after all.

“Cosette, do you want to have a sleepover?” Briar got off the bed, following her, “We can get some snacks and continue the game.”

“I am sorry Briar, but I can’t.” Cosette said gently, “I need to be home today so I can work tomorrow.”

“Oh…” Briar’s expression fell.

“But, how about we plan a sleepover for another day? I would love to continue this game with you. I am so glad you enjoy it as much as I do.”

Briar nodded, “Alright, good luck with work.”

“If you want to work a bit on the game you can come up with a backstory for your character.”

I think you can do it now that you’ve got the general idea of DnD.

“A backstory…” Briar murmured, “Yeah, I’ll work on one.”

“Great, you can show it to me the next time we meet so I can incorporate it into the story.”

Briar nodded, leading Cosette to the exit and wishing her a good evening.

Cosette pulled on her cloak and bid her good night as well, shivering as the cold wind brushed her hair.

Cosette collapsed into bed next to Ophelia.

“I am so tired.”

Ophelia hummed, taking a sip of her herbal tea and petting Cosette’s hair as the human snuggled closer.

Cosette loved these moments with the Autumn fae. Just them. Laying in a cozy bed, not worrying about the outside world or any problems that will come tomorrow.

It was enough to take my mind off of things, and that was more than I could ask for on a busy day such as this one.

Cosette pulled out the book Ophelia had gifted her, flipping to the page she had stopped on - Day Court.

Truly, the various court traditions were so fascinating, from Autumn’s mementos to Spring’s fishing games.

“How far are you?”

“I am on Day Court.”

“Did you read the section on Winter Court?”

“Yeah, I wonder if Aquilo would let me see their active military bears. Not just the retired ones.”

“You should ask nicely.”

Cosette glanced at Ophelia with a smirk, “If a certain fae asked I have a feeling we would be given permanent visitation rights to the bears’ place of keeping.”

Ophelia shoved a pillow in Cosette’s face making the blonde giggle.

“Cosette?”

“Hm?”

“Read aloud for me.”

“Why?”

“I like your voice.” Ophelia leaned back against the bed frame, closing her eyes.

“‘Day Court duels - a tradition passed on from times before the seven courts properly formed, now takes the form of an entertaining spectacle usually watched by an audience in a stadium. The tradition shares roots with the blood duel in Autumn, but while the blood duel is meant to resolve a dispute specifically between lovers over a mate, the duels in Day are of a more broad, and legislative nature. They are a means of defending or challenging one’s honor over an offending action such as insults or past unresolved conflicts.”

Geez, are fae so sensitive that they cannot talk it out?

“While the most popular instances of these duels taking place are large gatherings or parties that are meant to clear out tensions between High Lords and their entourages, such duels can also be found taking place on a lesser scale within the regular lives of Day Court citizens as a means of determining who was right or wrong.”

Ophelia snorted, “They either fuck their problems away or stab each other over it. Wish Autumn had more of the former within their government though, would make things better for all of us.”

Cosette continued, “This method of identifying the one at fault within a conflict is supported by the belief that the Spirit of Day, a being that can see all present and past actions, would know if someone was in the right and thereby support them if necessary. This, at the very least, is the explanation used by many to explain why certain faes who were much weaker than their opponents, still won.”

“Many modern historians argue that the current Day Court’s philosophy of pleasure coming hand in hand with pain is part of the reason the atmosphere within the court is deemed to be so light hearted and freeing.”

“That…is insane.” Cosette stared at the page, “You’re telling me that Day Court faeries just duke it out whenever they disagree over something? And what’s this about Day Court’s spirit seeing everything?”

“The text literally says it best, ‘pleasure comes hand in hand with pain’. Faeries of Day Court appreciate a good show, just like any normal fae would, but they indulge in pleasure the most so the concept of justice being rightfully served is very appealing to them. However, such a triumph cannot be achieved without a few broken bones.”

“So because justice is served so frequently, it makes the court a nice place to live?”

The Autumn Fae sighed, “That’s how I would interpret the text. It’s feeding into the stereotype that fae are sadists who derive pleasure from pain.”

“Well based on past actions they’re not exactly beating those allegations.”

“No they’re not. Those tropes have roots in reality, Cosette. Albeit, as you’re seeing now, the truth is more complicated. It is layered with cultural beliefs and traditions that have good intentions, even if the execution is terrible.” Ophelia set down her empty tea cup, “As for the Spirit of Day…the general idea is that each of the court’s spirits specialize in certain attributes. For example, the Spirit of Autumn is known to be a ruthless warrior who despises cowardice. The Spirit of Winter is known for his cold demeanor and desire to preserve all as it is. The Spirit of Day is generally considered to be oriented around justice. Legends say that since the Spirit presides over the court of literal Day, she ‘can see all present and past actions’ due to the sun’s rays illuminating only truth to her.”

Interesting…if I remember correctly in the story Helion’s powers were light based and that he could break enchantments, earning him the title of ‘Spell-Cleaver’. Did the Spirit or the High Lord influence the other’s power?

Also, Helion maintained a large library and favored scholars; how did they fit into this system?

“Okay, this is a dumb question, but do the spirits have a gender?” Cosette stared at the book, flipping through the pages, “Because this book’s author, Cosette quickly glanced at the cover, “Mister Aristippus, flips between using gender neutral pronouns to she and him with ease.”

“Cosette, they’re spirits.” Ophelia yawned, “They can be whatever ‘gender’ they want to be. They could be moss for Mother’s sake. The point of getting you the book was so that you learned from it and didn’t rely on asking me so many questions.”

“Asking you is much more fun though. You’re literally all knowing.”

“Not all knowing, I just have better reading comprehension skills than you clearly.” Ophelia blew out the candles, leaving one for Cosette if she decided to keep reading.

“Goodnight.” The fae hugged the human’s arm, “Don’t let the wrigwrots bite.”

“Wait, they can bite?!”

Disclaimer: the usage of a Greek philosopher’s name, Aristippus, is on purpose, and I will be drawing a bit from his ideologies, especially hedonism when we get to that point in the story. However, the character will by no means be a fully accurate depiction of the real life figure (think along the lines of Bungo Stray Dogs, where author names are used and characters draw from said author’s works and lives but are not meant to be biographical in nature).

If you are curious as to the real life figure, here is a couple sources I find to be interesting and to the point;

britannica.com

iep.utm.edu

Next: Chapter 27 - Failure Is the Path to Success

Back: Chapter 25 - An Iris and Her Pine Tree

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anatee · 2 years ago

Text

The Cockpit | Poe Dameron x Reader Smut

The Cockpit | Poe Dameron x Reader Smut 18+ | MINORS DNI.

Content: Female!Reader x Poe, a few curse words, one very bad pun, smut: suggestive talking and mentions of previous encounters, risky, hickeys, fingering, piv (unprotected), just filth really

Word count: 3.64K

Author's note: Finally had the time to write something for Poe - and when I tell you I am feral for this man. I wrote this in a few hours, on a roll. Enjoy.

Poe: I'll be back tonight.

A smile spread on Y/N's face as that message lit up her datapad. Poe was finally coming back from his mission, safe and sound, and there were no words to express how much she missed him - in fact, her whole body did.

It all started no longer than two months earlier. They had been teasing each other every time since Y/N joined the Resistance a year earlier, but on that particular evening one thing let to another and before they knew it, they were all over each other, making love passionately in his quarters.

Ever since then, each and every tease had a double meaning, and they could both confidently say they had a thing going on, as there was always some sexual tension between them waiting to be resloved. Her being a mechanic and him being a pilot, they didn't have any difficulties to make up excuses to see each other quite often.

Me: What a relief. I've missed you.

Y/N's response was sincere, but it was also safe - she could not stop herself from teasing him a little as well.

Me: So has my body.

She knew it would do the trick. She knew he was absolutely obsessed with being touchy, with almost worshipping her body as he often whispered breathy compliments while his coarse hands roamed all over her skin. Hence, his quick response didn't surprise her.

Poe: You can't be sending me messages like that or I'll have problems flying the ship.

Me: Oh, why? Did I fluster the greatest pilot of the Resistance? ;)

Poe: I'll get you back for this.

Me: Is that so? And what are you gonna do? Have another mechanic check your ship?

Even though she thought she had the upper hand for a moment, Poe retaliated quickly - he was no ordinary opponent in that type of conversations.

Poe: Be patient, love. Although considering how little patience you had last time when you were all over me, it may be difficult...

The audacity - as if he weren't the needy one, showing it each and every time he pulled her towards himself aggressively, grabbing her thighs, hips, wrists, anything he could dig his fingers into, roughly at that, because he had little patience, too.

Me: You loved every second of it.

Poe: Yes, I did. But it was you begging for more, wasn't it? ;)

Me: Oh, fuck you.

Poe: You will.

Her heart skipped a beat as she swallowed, the feelings this message caused in her burning in her abdomen.

That guy. No one in this galaxy could make her feel even something remotely close to what he did. She was weak for him in every sense of the word, always craving more of what he had to offer. It was going to be hard, these few more hours of waiting...

Poe's X-wing landed at the Resistance base at night, among the sounds of loud cheers. Many people wanted to greet him, congratulate on the successful mission... And he was happy to meet them, and be safe home again, but his mind had been wandering elsewhere all day.

He took his ship to the hangar and there was immediately surrounded by his friends. He only caught a glimpse of Y/N in the crowd before General Organa called him in for a report; he decided to go and meet Y/N later - he had a feeling the moment he actually spoke to her, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

As a mechanic, she immediately started checking his X-wing for any damage it might have sustained during the mission. The hangar had become empty and quiet by the time she started fixing a minor fault in the flaperon. It was only her, dim lights and every sound echoing against the walls of the spacious room.

"Look who we have here."

Y/N felt as though an electric shock surged through her body as she heard that familiar husky voice right behind her. She almost dropped her tools, then composed herself quickly before turning to face him, adjusting her tight grey shirt.

Poe was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against his X-wing in a khaki shirt and his favourite jacket, a smirk on his face. She bit her lip; she couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was every time she saw him. There was just so much to love, so much to desire - the big hands, the wide shoulders, the sharp jaw and the lucious hair, even more attractive now that it was a bit messy.

"Look who's back," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as well, trying not to show how much she wanted to throw herself over him. That week away from him made her realise how much she got addicted.

"Missed me, love?" he asked as if he did not know the answer, looking her up and down.

"Maybe." She shrugged, also realising they were both just playing.

She wanted to tease him so more, but he had other plans. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to himself, making their bodies bump into each other. She chuckled, then gave him a smirk.

"And who's impatient now?"

"You can't imagine how much I needed you," he whispered into her ear, nibbling on it just slightly, barely, and yet that was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Glad you're safe," she whispered back, and he pulled away to look into her eyes.

"I'm happy you're safe, too." He put his hand on her cheek, then moved his thumb over it affectionately. "You already fixing this?" he added, indicating the flaperon.

"That's my job, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but that's not the priority, really. I need your help in the cockpit. I've had some issues with the joystick."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

Before she could ask more, Poe climbed the side of his X-wing, then jumped into the cockpit swiftly. He beckoned her to follow, and so she did, staying on the ladder next to the ship.

"You should get inside here to see," he said, indicating the small cockpit.

"Inside?" She raised an eyebrow. "This cockpit isn't exactly a fit for more than one person."

He couldn't help but smirk again. "Afraid of getting close to me, my little mechanic?

He knew she wouldn't back down from such a challenge, and he was right. Without a second thought, she quickly climbed inside the cockpit and had no choice but to sit in his lap, trapped between his chest and the controls. The moment she did that, she realised how easily she had fallen into Poe's trap.

He let out a snigger, putting his hands on her hips. "And now... I have you right where I want you."

"I should've predicted that..." she said in defeat, as though she didn't enjoy every second of it.

He laughed again, clearly satisfied with that response. "I told you I'd get you back, love... Tell me you weren't basically asking for it. I'd say your messages were quite clear."

Having accepted her fate, Y/N smiled, bathing in that blissful feeling of his large hands on her body. Even through the material of her pants, it was enough to make her feel just that much hotter.

"I suppose there is another joystick that needs my attention here, huh?" she bit back just to hear another snicker, his hands slowly wandering up the sides of her body and down again.

"So cheeky," he said as if it were a compliment. "Can't help but love that about you." He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"I get that from you, flyboy."

"Flyboy?" he almost sounded offended, but, at the same time, his playful tone didn't leave him. "You know, I'd admit... I've always had a fantasy to do this here." He kissed her neck, softly at first, just to plant two more, passionate kisses right after. She let out a small sigh; the hickeys he left on her the night before his mission had barely healed, and she knew that he would not stop himself from creating new ones, especially now that he knew all her weakest points.

"I figured as much." She chuckled. "I guess this is called a cockpit for a reason."

He laughed against her neck, hot breath tingling the spots that were already wet from his kisses as his hands kept roaming. He kissed the side of her neck again, finding a particularly sensitive spot right on her artery, which he grazed with his teeth, earning another sigh from her.

"You know... I've missed you too much to be watching your back," he said sensually, his hands gripping her hips again. "I want to see your eyes as I work my magic..."

Poe helped her turn on his lap in the small cockpit, then pulled her as close to himself as possible, their chests colliding.

"Now, that's much better, isn't it, love?" he said quietly while his eyes wandered to the revealing cleavage of her shirt. "You'd put that on for me?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Dameron." She put her hands on his shoulders. "You know I always dress like this."

He wasn't buying it - or, at the very least, he didn't want to.

"But you knew I'd be coming to have all of this for myself. And I can think of only one thing when I see you like that."

Before she could react in any way, he buried his face between her breasts, breathing in her scent and kissing the soft skin he worshipped so much while his hands slid down to squeeze her buttocks.

"How come you always smell so good?" he said groggily, his voice alone making her heart beat faster.

"Showers, flyboy."

He opened his mouth for a moment, then stared at her in mild disbelief.

"Feisty, are we?" he asked eventually, unwilling to admit defeat. "I see... I'm being too nice to you. Perhaps you should show me how much you missed me. I am, after all, a tired hero..."

Finally, she gave in and decided to act, too. She quickly started helping him out of his jacket, and he understood immediately, raising his arms slightly so she could take it off. She threw it over the side of the ship and let it fall to the hangar floor, then leaned in just slightly. For him, it worked immediately; he grabbed her jaw with both his hands and pulled her to himself almost posesssively to kiss her with hunger. The desire they had been both feeling during their separation finally starting to resolve. He didn't restrain himself one bit, almost devouring her through the feverish kisses. He let his tongue taste her, too, remembering what a wonderful taste it was.

The kissing and breathing sounds echoed in the empty hangar, with occasional moans and grunts in between they could not control. While Y/N kept her hand on his nape, pulling him closer, his arms were exploring her body, as if trying to touch each and every inch of it.

The moment she shifted slightly to adjust her sitting position on him, he pulled away, letting out a short groan. She knew that sound already and looked down.

"Someone's got a little excited there."

He traced her jaw with his finger. "You can't imagine how many times I was sitting there and wished you would be here... Just like that."

"Dreams do come true, Commander."

Using his rank was another thing that did it for him. He grabbed the straps of her shirt and pulled them down so the material fell and uncovered her breasts. He took a deep breath at the sight as he realised she had no bra on. The sight seemed to have rendered him speechless; he forgot everything he was doing to stop and marvel, so she seized the chance. She grinded herself against him, slowly, catching him my surprise. He let out a small gasp, one that satisfied her greatly.

"Keep up with me," Y/N said teasingly, and she could almost see the lust gleam in Poe's eyes when she did.

"You asked for it," he replied huskily, knowing what he could do to her just by using that voice.

His hands reached for her pants. He unzipped them, then she stood up and, although it was a bit difficult in the small cockpit, he eventually managed to take her pants off of her. She was left in her panties and her shirt half down - a view he could get used to.

Y/N wanted to straddle him again, but he shook his head and pushed her ever so sligthly against the controls.

"No, stay there..." he uttered quietly, his eyes taking in her figure. "Oh, I'm gonna remember the view. You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N."

She propped herself up on her elbows, biting her lip as she took in the compliment. He was enjoying the view in front of her, too; his cheeks were flushed, his hair even more messy than before, the upper part of his shirt unbuttoned, showing some of his collarbone.

"You aren't so bad yourself, Dameron," she replied, wondering what he was planning.

His large hands first dug into her thighs, massaging them just for a moment before one of them wandered straight between her legs. He began slowly rubbing her against the white material of her panties, making her squirm immediately. It was only then when she realised how touch-starved she was; touching herself on her own was now nowhere near as satisfactory.

Poe seemed to enjoy it a little bit too much when he noticed how each and every one if his rubs provoked different reactions from her. Sighs, soft moans, her biting her lip to stop herself and spreading her legs wider almost absent-mindedly... He knew he would not be able to control himself for much longer. Her reactions were one of the things he enjoyed most about all of their encounters.

"Seems like you needed me just as much... But why so quiet, love?" He looked her straight in the eye, wondering where his favourite moans went to - especially the ones mentioning his name.

"Quiet?" She panted. "I'd say I'm being too... Loud..." Another soft moan escaped her lips as he picked up the pace, the material between his fingers already wet.

He chuckled. "I know for a fact that you can be a hell lot louder than that."

"This isn't exactly a private place... What if someone hears?" she asked between heavy breaths as he did not stop, quite the contrary, he focused on rubbing her clit directly, having learned that works like a dream.

He seemed completely unbothered, shrugging. "The best pilot of the Resistance has his needs. And it so happens hearing these moans of yours is one of them."

He used his free hand to close the cockpit, cutting them out from the outside world with a triumphant expression.

"Don't restrain yourself, love."

Having said that, he grabbed the material of the panties and moved it to the side, uncovering her soaked folds. His fingers went back to work at once, this time flesh to flesh, driving her crazy in a matter of seconds.

He slipped in two of his fingers inside her almost effortlessly, then began pumping in and out quickly, making her throw her head back as she buckled her hips to meet even more of his touch. He smirked at that as his other hand kept on circling her clit.

"I don't have enough hands for everything I want to touch..."

"But you have something else," she breathed out as her body was begging her to have him inside it. As pleasurable as what he was doing was, his fingers were simply not enough. She craved all of him, especially after missing him and worrying because of his mission.

For a moment, she heard nothing but pounding of her heart in her ears as she reached for his belt and unbuckled it.

"Well, won't you look at that." He smiled smugly, taking his hand back for a moment. "A week without me and you've become wild. Maybe I should leave more often?"

"Don't you dare," she hissed, still panting as she unzipped his pants.

He wasn't going to stop her, he didn't even tease her - instead, he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull down both his pants and boxers, uncovering his erection. She looked at it shamlessly, then glanced back between her legs, where the wetness was starting to drip down her thigh.

"Seems like we both have to be taken care of."

"How fortunate," he grabbed her by the hips again. "May I?"

"Not you asking now like you didn't fuck me senseless the night before you left."

He smirked again, getting even more aroused at the memory of that night. "Oh, sorry for being a gentleman, love," he said sarcastically. "Let me fix that."

Before she could react, he aligned her position, then lowered her onto his cock roughly, earning a yelp out of her. He let out a short grunt, keeping his eyes on her face so as not to miss any reactions.

"Not so confident now, are you?"

"You... Oh, fuck..." She took a deep breath, trying to adjust herself to such a sudden change.

He sniggered yet again. "That I will, love."

The first thrust of his hips felt like a sigh of relief after days of longing. They both needed that, probably more than they thought up until this moment. He was dragging his cock slowly but with power, helping himself by guiding her hips while she started responding. The smallness of the cockpit made them unable to escape anywhere; they were as close to each other as possible, Y/N's nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest. He filled her up to the brim with every thrust, still slowly, allowing both of them to relish in the bliss of the moment.

His hands moved to grab her ass firmly and kept on guiding her while her mouth travelled to his neck this time - she wanted to leave a few marks for him as well.

"I could do this all night," he rasped, their hips rocking in unision.

In response, she only let out a short cry against his neck as his cock found a particular spot, and the pleasure it gave her almost made her lose balance. She grabbed onto his shoulders, her cheeks flushed.

"Poe, faster," she moaned, unable to bear the feeling of release almost coming and then quickly going away every time he slowed down.

These two words almost turned him feral.

"Oh, what was that?" he asked even though they both knew he heard her loud and clear.

"I beg you," she whispered, placing a pleading kiss on his neck.

"Now that's what I like."

A triumphant expression took over him as he leaned her against the controls, taking some of her weight off of him. It allowed him to move faster just like she wanted, and hell, he enjoyed it too, feeling almost an animalistic need for the inevitable orgasm building up inside him. He really didn't need much; she turned him on mkre than anybody did.

He moved as fast as he could in the position they were in, bathing in the blissful sensations and sounds coming out of her, not even caring if someone was going to catch them. The sweat on her forehead, her throwing her head back, and everything happening right there, in the cockpit of his ship as he had fantasised... It was enough to drive a man crazy.

She kept on rocking her hips to match his movements and meet him deep inside, just so he would keep on hitting that spot which felt best. She noticed how he furrowed his brow and his breath became heavier, letting her know he was close. She could not blame him as she herself felt she needed just a few more thrusts.

"Come with me, love," he said breathily, prompting her to grab his shoulders tighter. Yes, she wanted to do that, it would be such a bliss...

"Poe... I'm so..." she wanted to tell him she would, but words failed her. Instead, immense pleasure washed over her as she felt herself gush all over his cock.

Mere seconds later, he filled her up to the brim with his cum, swearing under his breath. He had been waiting for this, and the indescrabibly pleasurable sensation was worth the wait.

Moments later, everything stopped, and they both fell into each other's arms, breathless. Y/N slowly raised herself, letting his penis slip out of her, his cum followinig right after, some of it landing on the pilot seat.

"Now... That's gonna leave a stain."

He glanced down and shrugged. "I'll have something to remember this by. I'm addicted to this. To you," he said in a hushed tone, then leaned in to leave a passionate kiss on her lips.

"I believe I could told you the same." Y/N smiled, wondering how she could have ever lived without this.

"Just so you know," his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer again, "we're doing this again. Now. We have seven days to catch up on."

Damn. He got her all exicted again in mere seconds, barely after allowing her to take in the orgasm from a minute earlier. It seemed like her legs were opening again just as he spoke, her body remembering how wonderful it felt to be connected with his.

"I am definitely not going to stop you."

"And this time..." His hands wandered up from her hips straight to her breasts. "I believe these two need my attention."

#star wars #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #smut #ff #fanfic #star wars smut #poe #poe dameron #dameron #resistance #poe dameron smut

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mllemaenad · 8 months ago

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So – Bethesda broke Fallout 4's script extender. Because of course they did. What better way to celebrate the release of your new TV show than to stall people's ongoing playthroughs? Excellent work. I don't even want an Enclave quest. It's Creation Club nonsense, so it won't actually be a proper quest anyway.

I want to finish my Sim Settlements 2 playthrough. Ugh.

So while I'm waiting for the dust to settle on that, I thought I'd give Fallout 76 another go. I am rebuilding my mod list for Fallout 3, but that's a work in progress. And Fallout 76 is right there.

I created a new character, because I haven't played this thing in ages and I know they've changed a bunch of the mechanics. And oh - ha. I mean, I had thought from the beginning that creating a game without NPCs was a terrible idea, because it's hard to invest in saving an empty world. But the addition of them makes playing the game's original main quest a distinctly bizarre experience.

I don't mean that I'm suddenly pro-empty world. Not at all. In general the presence of factions and personalities and people you can care about it a good thing.

But when they made this game, the writers and quest designers were given "empty world" as a parameter within which they had to work. And they did.

It's sort of an interesting, even bold, choice for a storyline because it does not allow you to feel good about yourself at all. Most Fallout games do. Oh, you can play evil if you want, sure, and there are a handful of side quests that are genuinely no win scenarios. But mostly? You can save the world. And you will probably have a better experience if you try to: there's more to do when you talk to the NPCs and deal with their problems rather than just murdering everyone and taking their stuff.

But Fallout 76 is just judging you.

I keep thinking about its promotional song – that really upbeat cover of Take Me Home, Country Roads, and all the imagery in the old trailer, about rebuilding and looking to the future. But all of that is functionally a lie, and the key lines in that song come towards the end:

I hear her voice in the mornin' hour, she calls me The radio reminds me of my home far away Drivin' down the road, I get a feelin' That I should've been home yesterday, yesterday – Take Me Home, Country Roads

You should have been home yesterday. You should have been home a thousand yesterdays ago. This story is all about the past, and a rebuilding effort you neglected to join. It hits you with the guilt straight away, as the very first place the game takes you is an old outpost of emergency service personnel who just kept on doing their jobs after the bombs fell. It's their notes and recordings that teach you how to survive.

Of course you encounter less pleasant people later: raiders and Enclave, and honestly I have little patience for any iteration of The Brotherhood of Steel. But even there, you can see that the misunderstandings and conflicts and general fuck ups might have been resolved with a competent mediator.

And that is exactly what you are. You're a Fallout protagonist. You don't have the time to spend ten years sitting in a lab, but you excel at travelling from town to town and dealing with whatever obstacle is stopping a faction from moving forward. Fallouts 1-4 and assorted spin offs have taught us all that.

Even in universe, Vault 76 is stated to be full of literal geniuses. It is packed with doctors and scientists and engineers: exactly the people the world needed to deal with a combination of plague and environmental crisis.

If you were there, you could have fixed this.

But you were not there. You were sitting comfortably in a vault, while other, better people tried to save the world.

And they were almost there. They had a vaccine. Even with everything, they had a vaccine. They did the work, they had a plan. As you play through this quest, you stand upon the shoulders of giants at almost every stage, implementing the very last step in a plan that really does work. Had they lived, even a few months longer ... but they didn't, and you did nothing to help them.

It wasn't even necessary to spend 25 years in that vault, as it is abundantly clear that the area around 76 has been habitable this whole time. Challenging, sure: I am in no way suggesting that it was an easy existence. But it was not instant irradiated death.

Every other Fallout protagonist steps out of their vault (or other entry scenario) in time to make things right. Maybe just in time, but nevertheless. They walk into a fractured world and get to work. But not you. You took the easy route.

How proud are you of that Best Dental Hygiene award now?

Given that it is set so close to the Great War, and deals with first generation survivors, it gives one of the best looks at the cynical cruelty of Vault-Tec: when they talk about rebuilding the world, it only means rebuilding for its own benefit and profit. Anyone not part of their plan is more than welcome to die in a hole.

It ties in very nicely with the television series, actually. Lucy laments that she was waiting to rebuild the world, but it all happened without her - and Vault-Tec actively tried to destroy that new world (and at least up to a point, seems to have succeeded). Her people waited over 200 years, but it didn't take that long. Twenty-five were quite enough.

But with the new version ... I mean, it really takes the sting out of it. It looks like everybody had a few rough years there, but it's all turned out fine. There's a burgeoning civilisation here, with homesteads and caravans and trade. I can't go two steps without an NPC asking to borrow a bobby pin, and even the raiders are more territorial than outright destructive (although – is nobody going to go up that completely safe little hill and give poor Miguel a funeral? Come on guys, clean up the damn corpses).

The tragedy of the whole thing, and the weight of your own inaction, is largely gone. You can't reshape the world and still make the same impact with that narrative.

I don't know, I guess I just can't quite get behind the whole multiplayer-ness of the thing. The world can't really change as you complete quests. You can't really rebuild. But likewise, if the world does change, it has to change for everyone at the same time, regardless of where they are in the story.

It could still work, I think, if you could play through that story and then see the caravans come over the hill, and start to rebuild the world.

Because that might feel a bit like redemption.

#fallout #fallout 76 #fallout tv series #fallout tv spoilers

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twincaptains · 3 months ago

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Obsequium Part I: Chapter One: Ford's September

TITLE: Obsequium Part I: Chapter One: Ford’s September PAIRINGS: Dipford (Ford x Dipper), Bipford, (Bipper x Ford), regular Billford (Bill x Ford) Pinecest (Dipper x Mabel), Stancest, (Stan x Ford), and possibly others. Gotta see where this thing takes me. SUMMARY: It’s been four years since Ford emerged from the portal and reclaimed the Mystery Shack. Stanley, Soos, Wendy, Mabel? They’re all gone, but he and Dipper remain to destroy what’s left of Bill. Dipper and Mabel’s parents have since divorced, their mother living alone on the east coast and Mabel living with her father in Seattle. As the Mystery Twins enter their 17th year, things seem to be going poorly. Stan and Ford are still not speaking to each other, and that doesn’t look like it will change anytime soon. Meanwhile, Dipper is receiving a top-notch education from Ford – he’s already graduated from high school and has several bachelor’s degrees. Still, something is amiss … I wonder what that might be? Is it Dipper’s perpetual sweatiness and unignorable teenage shortcomings? Or is it the whispers that keep beckoning from the woods … Ford journals about it, and is a jerk. NOTES: I am posting to Tumblr for now, but eventually will be cross-posting to Ao3. I am in line to get an account, and should have one by the end of the month. So … this thing is gonna get pretty intense in fairly short order, so I suggest you look under the cut to see if there’s any triggering content on the road ahead that might bother you. I don’t want anyone to get invested and THEN get upset.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drug abuse, caregiver neglect OVERALL WARNINGS: Incest, sibling incest, minor, coercive control, mind control, caregiver neglect, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, dubious consent (dubcon), body horror, suicidal ideation, food restriction, sleep deprivation, self-harm, drug abuse, being drugged, lost time, and I’m going to specifically going to warn for “Ford being cruel to Stanley”, because it made me upset when I wrote it so I want to warn for it. If I forgot anything, please let me know and I will fix it IMMEDIATELY. I will add more if anything else comes up. Chapter Two is here!! Alright. Now that we’ve established where this is going … let’s get there.

FORD’S SEPTEMBER

Saturday, September 3rd:

Dipper returned late last night from his week-long sabbatical with his father and sister in Seattle, eager to begin his fourth year of study. By the end of this year, he should have his first Masters. He says that I should find his thesis both stimulating and hilarious, which I doubt but I commend him for the effort. He is a very capable student but is still held back by some of the unfortunate distractions a boy of his age typically deals with. He confessed to me before he left to visit his family that he'd been feeling quite lonely and isolated lately, which I understand, but unfortunately that's the nature of our work. He'll have plenty of time to make friends and enemies after we finish sealing all the cracks that Bill made in the fabric of this town. While I was annoyed that we had to halt our momentum so that he could fulfill familial obligations; it did give me some time to think about how to better mentor him. Another thing: while I never had an issue with being distracted by such urges; he's clearly struggling with his hormones. An acceptable problem for a boy his age to have, but it's really starting to get in the way of our work. He can't focus on anything for longer than a few minutes and the sweatiness is starting to become medically concerning. I've tried directing him to meditate or thinking about something else, which always works for me, but I forget that not everyone has my admirable levels of self-control and willpower. He is just a boy, after all.

In my dimensional travels, I'd encountered a device that would come in handy in a situation like this: A virtual reality helmet that can quickly and efficiently satisfy biological urges and clear away burgeoning curiosities. The problem would be obtaining one of the damn things; while I can easily find somewhere to order one on the VerseWeb, they don't ship to this dimension or take any of the currency I have. Furthermore, I can't just hand a teenaged boy a device like that without calibrating it first and making sure certain safeguards are in place -- and an off-the-shelf model just isn't going to be able to penetrate the plate in my skull.

What I am able to do is find the schematics online, modify them, build my own and then download the software so I can calibrate it myself.

So, I did that!

The next time I notice him getting all twitchy and distant; I'll sit him down and present him with the OBSEC-8177, software version 3.2.9. He can go off and do whatever for about 15 minutes, and then hopefully become a more manageable student and more productive assistant.

Today we're working on some coursework, and then after the sun goes down it's out into the woods to track down the source of the whispers we both keep hearing.

Tuesday, September 6th:

Our search for the whisperer was unfruitful, but it was at least refreshing. I'd been stuck in the house building the OBSEC the entire time Dipper had been gone. I sometimes forget the power of a good night walk, gets the blood pumping and the brain moving. I was able to have a decent talk with the boy, about where his studies are heading next and more about the important work we are doing.

I try not to tell him too much, for one I don't want to overwhelm him -- he's been through a lot and even though he's quick on the uptake, he still has his limits. For another, even though he has not shown me any reason not to, I don't trust him. He was very easily deceived by Bill for promises much more foolish and pettier than what I was offered, and his general anxiousness leads me to believe that he'd have trouble keeping his mouth shut if he were ever faced with torture, or even a light interrogation. He just doesn't have the focus nor the tools to endure that kind of thing.

Speaking of, the OBSEC is going to make its grand debut this evening. It didn't take long for Dipper to get distant and distracted on me, and it's very clear where his mind keeps wandering. I fear that week with his sister did little to dial down his inner tension, if anything he seems more agitated than ever. If this trend continues, I may have to insist he suspend his visits with her after next year, when he'll no longer be subject to the tempestuous family court system.

My hope is that spending some time clearing out the chemical garbage clogging up his brain will be able to help him find a proper center so that I can start letting him know about what we're doing, here. When he's done erasing all the messages Stanley's left me on my answering machine in the last few days, I'll let him take the helmet for a spin.

Friday, September 9th:

Success! Dipper has been an amazing assistant and an above par student these last few days. The OBSEC was just the shot in the arm he needed to become fully grounded and invested in our work. We've been able to make substantial progress in expanding and fortifying the forcefield that will keep that rancid triangle out of here for good. In the meantime, it will give me some space to either figure out a way to repair the dimensional rift OR keep it so well guarded that it will never be in danger of breaking free.

For now, the only way Bill is getting anywhere near my lab (and the rift) is if he's invited.

And he won't be, simple as that.

I really can't emphasize enough how much Dipper has improved. I had him take another look at a quantum problem that he was having immense difficulty with before his break, and he was able to see past his snag and solve it almost immediately. He demanded several more to make sure he'd really gotten it, which I was happy to provide. He finally believes me that they're fun, enjoyable, and foundational for the rest of his education. We'd been stuck here for a moment, it was going to be impossible for me to move to the next phase until he understood these concepts. It seems he has found his footing now, and I have a feeling he's going to really like what I have for him next: xenostring theory.

Oh, to be young and naive again ... I'll never forget the way I felt when I started studying xenostrings for the first time. Sure, I was 43, but I still felt the same rush of excitement and thrill of discovery that I'd feel when riding roller coasters and educational dark rides as a red-faced teen. And after xenostring theory, then...

No, no. I don't want to get too ahead of myself. I'll end up rushing the boy through what should be a sacred experience that he needs to take at his own pace.

Tuesday, September 13th

I've been busy these last few days helping Dipper with the basics of xenostring theory, which he has taken to like a duck to water. I'm encouraging his enthusiasm, which I admit is a little bit mean, as that has set him up for failure. However, the overall lesson his failure will teach him may very well be more valuable than what he's trying to learn.

What he doesn't know, and what most that get into the field don't understand at first, is that xenostrings abhor enthusiasm and infatuation. The harder you fixate on them, the more impossible they are to discern. Dipper needs to learn to become more detached from his core emotions so that he can better perform his work, and until he learns how to do that, the array I've requested him to arrange will refuse to hold its shape. He's threatening to stay up all night to try and get it to work, and I'm debating whether I should intervene. Sleep is necessary for thinking, yet his current frustration is going to make the eventual lesson that much more potent and memorable. I'll see how I feel about it when we pause for a nutrient break this evening.

Wednesday, September 14th

Dipper is still working on the xenostring array, undeterred. He requested some stimulant medication earlier this morning, as coffee just wasn't doing it for him anymore, and I relented and let him have some of the green capsules I picked up during my extended layover on Vulpis VII. This may have been a mistake, as he seems to be having some sort of episode over the collapsed pile of xenostrings on the lab floor. His vitals seem fine, so I'm not concerned as of yet. If he pulls any more of his hair out, I may have to force an antidote of some sort into him. I think the purple ones I got on Canis IV should work well enough, though I should probably leave him in the bathtub overnight if it comes down to that.

Still, the wailing, moaning and gnashing of teeth will all be worth it in the end. I think he's getting close to figuring out that he needs to care less about what the strings are and what they're doing, and more about the fact that the strings are just plain nifty. But not too nifty, nifty in the way a tabloid cover entertains you while you're waiting in line to buy more peanut butter.

I should wrap this up, I think he just tried to choke himself out. Maybe I should be watching him a bit closer.

Saturday, September 17th

The comedown from the stimulants wasted two whole days, and I learned to never trust the boy's stated tolerance levels ever again. I didn't have to give him any antidotes, but anything he managed to learn he did not retain. He's frustrated with me, but I'm more frustrated with him for missing the point entirely. He said he felt better this morning, at least, but instead of sending him back to the xenostrings I suggested we investigate the whispering in the woods again. It was particularly potent last night, to the point both of us were sure that we could hear it indoors. Neither of us can quite make out what's being said, but it doesn't seem to be hostile in any way. Almost... inviting. Which means it's probably hostile.

Dipper had the brilliant idea of staying in the area around the house and trying to catch the whispers on some sort of audio equipment. He says that some spirits prefer magnetic tape, others prefer more modern digital means, and luckily for us we have both. He says that he has software on his computer that can enhance and analyze the audio, if we manage to catch any, which would be extremely useful if that's true. I don't really have a grasp on what computers can and can't do in this world. They were never really my forte in the first place; I just brute force my way through and have someone else clean up my mess a little later. Those were the days before software came in neat little executables and instead needed to be manually programmed and engaged each time you wanted to use it. I'll leave all of that to him, he needs a genuine win after his week of abject failures.

Tuesday, September 20th

We certainly heard a lot of whispers, so many that we went out a second night. Dipper is arranging and analyzing the audio now, which takes a bit of time. He says that he's already managed to isolate some of what we were hearing, he just needs to finish scrubbing through nearly 20 hours of waveforms to see what else we've picked up. It's promising, to be sure! I just wish there was a way it could be done a little more quickly. He said if I knew how to use the computer even a little that I could cut his workload in half, but I have neither the time nor the desire to learn the ins and outs of that showy, anorexic rectangle he calls a computer. I have been spending my time doing something much more sensible: investigating the logistics of getting a restraining order on my brother.

He already knows not to come around here, I'll shoot him if I see him on the property again, but the phone calls are really starting to get to me. Sometimes up to twice a day, if the mood strikes him. I have no idea what he's playing at, I don't have the patience to deal with whatever con he's running. Probably just asking for money. I wouldn't know; Dipper has been dealing with these messages for years. They're just so ... incessant, lately. Sometimes I can hear his voice when I'm in the other room, and I'm just so sick and tired of it. It makes focusing on my work much harder than it needs to be.

Wednesday, September 21st

Dipper has insisted I stop researching restraining orders, pointing out that it would only antagonize my brother further. The best thing to do, if I really want to keep him at arm's length, is to let him babble into the void. He may be correct about that, but I am more correct.

I'll just pursue it the next time Dipper's not here. I think he's expected in Seattle for Thanksgiving; perhaps I'll find the time, then. Granted, a lot of government offices will be closed, but perhaps I can yell at one of those rectangular surveillance devices people call phones and it will tell me the information I need.

This is annoying and unnecessary!

Friday, September 23rd

Dipper presented his findings from our excursion last weekend to me today, and I have to say -- they're quite impressive. He managed to catch several instances of the voices we heard, but not all. It was fascinating because, as he said, some existed on the magnetic tapes that did not exist on digital devices running at the same time, and vice versa. Others, which we reacted to, did not seem to be picked up by the equipment at all. Dipper was able to enhance the audio and noticed that it sounded a bit like backmasking -- which inspired him to reverse the sounds using his software. To his surprise, we captured what is, without a doubt, intelligible speech. In plain English, each time it showed up in the recording, it was saying:

"You'll trip and fall right into me."

It sounds like a bad song lyric, if you ask me, but it seems rather ominous, doesn't it? The voice doesn't sound like Bill, but Bill can sound like anything or anyone. Is he behind it? His taunts to me are usually much more direct, there's no reference to my body odor which has me doubtful, but if it IS from him, what does that even mean? I'll trip and fall right into you?

Hardly.

HARDLY!

I'm more fortified than ever. There is no angle I have not considered. Any vulnerability he might exploit is either out of sight or out of mind. Dipper isn't foolish enough to be taken in by him again, and I'm not foolish enough to put him in a position where he might be.

Get over yourself, Bill. Trip and fall right into a bottomless ravine.

Sunday, September 25th

Unexpectedly, Dipper had an interesting breakthrough with the xenostrings! He had left them alone for a few days, and sure enough, when he returned to them, they behaved much better. He's figured out that they're responding to his emotional state, which I am impressed with. It took me quite a while to get there, given how frustrated I used to become when I didn't get something that seemed obvious to everyone else.

This breakthrough also happened to come after an unfortunately needed break in our work to tend to the property itself. The leaves are already coming down, and we need to stay on top of them before they get on top of us. Then there's the matter of trimming trees, seeing if any need to be knocked down, and just general maintenance on both the grounds and the house.

By throwing himself into physical labor, and by focusing on the task of decoding the whispers we captured last weekend, he managed to detach himself from his infatuation with the strings. Maybe I should work him a bit harder; it might stimulate further eureka moments for him.

Wednesday, September 28th

Last night was another notable one for whispers from the woods; though the message definitely has changed. Dipper and I are debating over whether it's Bill trying to mess with us in some way, or if it's some other creature trying to get our attention -- for nefarious purposes or not. We've found the more we ignore it, the more insistent it tends to be. Occasionally saying "Sure!" or "Whatever!" will get it to quiet down for a little while before it works its way back into a constant hissing in the background.

We haven't set up any equipment to try and record it yet, I'm waffling on whether we should engage at all. It seems aware we were able to figure out the first message, which is why there's something new for us to look at now. Something doesn't feel quite right about it.

I'm outside listening to them build, now. Dipper needed to take a break with the OBSEC machine, and I'm inclined to let him. That thing is a miracle, I'm finally working with the protege I deserve. It's kept him so focused and level-headed, much more able to follow my lead. We've made such progress in such a short time! I can't even begin to imagine where we'll be by the New Year.

The whispers sound even more different now, and louder than before. Probably insults I'm better off not hearing. Dipper did leave his recorders out here, though. Maybe I'll try and catch some of this, it might interest him when he gets back from putting his head on straight.

Friday, September 30th

"Don't be so sure."

"I'm closer than you think."

Nonsense. Utter NONSENSE!

The whispers are indeed different. Still backmasked, still desperate and pathetic.

I can't believe this, I'm almost certain it's Bill now. This is what he's spending his time doing? Trying to get me to play Marco Polo in the woods? I used to think that was fun, but I don't anymore. I have no idea what he's playing at, nor why he's able to project his voice so forcefully into the barrier I spent so much time meticulously crafting.

I suppose the makeup of the town itself is to blame. I can't get far enough under the house to fortify the bedrock of the property; he might be able to seep in via the groundwater. Running water is always a problem, and of course I live in the middle of a lush forest instead of the desert.

If I'm aware I'm being taunted, I can't be taunted. Dipper is similarly unimpressed, though he does seem a bit troubled by it all. He doesn't seem as interested in eating lately, which is a sign that he's thinking too much. I think he needs some extra time with the OBSEC, the stress of both his xenostring array and Bill being annoying might be testing his limits.

TBC In Part I, Chapter Two: Dipper’s September

#billford #dipford #stancest #pinecest #obsequium #proship #dark fiction

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