#chianti day

[gaeulssims]

˗ˏˋ Happy birthday! ´ˎ˗

Ah yes, the kids have left their teenagehood to dip their toes into young adulthood and that definitely had to be celebrated. Goodbye, immaturity and freedom, and welcome student loans and taxes. Prev | Next

CAN I HAVE ONE DAY WITHOUT SOMEONE SMOKING????

[subby-sab]

Today is 6th of September.

Today is National Read a Book Day, National Chianti Day, National Coffee Ice Cream Day, National Food Bank Day.

[iocheaira]

my mom is in colorado bc her mom broke her leg so it’s me and my dad at home and i stg the amount of time i have to spend scripting polite requests to pick up his shit so i can vacuum, or put up the ironing board so that cat doesnt pull it down onto herself, or……idk…..not leave a full mcdonalds meal out in the living room over night for the cat to eat????? is getting ridiculous

[goodmorningevildoers]

February! Finally. The month of romance. Who wants a glass of something nice and red? 🍷

[milfsloverblog]

Good Luck, Babe! (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve got series waiting for an update blah blah blah. But when something sparks your inspiration, you just got to get to work!! This one’s - obviously - inspired by the Chappell Roan song. This is full on ANGST, HURT NOT COMFORT, you’ve been warned! One shot, no second chapter to fix it all. We love the pain. Hope you’ll enjoy my darlings and don’t forget to like and reblog if you do!! <3

Larissa had been startled awake by a sudden loud noise, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom she shared with the banshee that slept next to her.

Not a literal one - although that might have been a better choice, Larissa thought as she turned her head towards the man she’d been sharing a bed with for over a decade and nearly two. Ha, there it was again. That loud snoring that kept her awake for nights on end. A banshee, that’s what he sounded like.

She sat up, carefully swinging her legs on the side of the bed and trying her best not to wake him up - somehow the snoring was still more bearable than his incessant yapping when he was awake.

Larissa took a deep breath, rubbing her hands on her face as she contemplated what to do with the rest of her night. She had a little over four hours left of sleep before her alarm would go off, signifying the beginning of her working day. She brushed her fingers through her silver hair, holding back a whine when some of it got stuck in her wedding ring.

Oh bitter irony, she thought as she pulled away to inspect the golden ring on her left hand.

The banshee snored again, pulling Larissa out of her thoughts and nearly making her consider squeezing a pillow on her husband’s face. Instead, she quietly got out of bed, throwing a silky robe on her silkier shoulders and tying it close as a shiver ran down her spine.

Things could have been so different.

As her hand brushed down the wooden handrails of the main stairs, Larissa couldn’t help but reminisce about her younger days. She thought of Nevermore when she was only a student there and not in charge of it. The Poe cup, the Rave’N, the feeling of soft hands on her skin. Larissa stopped dead in her tracks. She could have sworn that she had felt it, right there in the middle of the staircase, the ghost of soft hands on her midriff. She took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs on the tip of her toes, still not wanting to wake up the banshee that rested upstairs.

Turning the light on as she made her way to the kitchen, Larissa walked straight to the sink and knelt to access the cupboard below it. She didn’t even look at the bottles, grabbing the first one that met her hand and pulling it out of the cupboard. It would be a good one anyway, her darling husband always made sure of it. Grand wine, grand house (that she had been against buying), grand life, grand wife. The thought left a bitter taste in Larissa’s mouth and she hurried to open the bottle, eager to replace the bitterness of a wasted life with the bitter taste of an aged Chianti.

As she sipped on her freshly poured wine, Larissa’s mind transported her back to a night twenty years ago.

“They’ll catch us!” Larissa half-whispered as her hand squeezed yours.

“Everyone’s at the Rave’N, they won’t even notice we’re gone. Come on, even if they did, Nevermore’s brightest student and its biggest weirdo? No one would speculate that we’re together. They’ll think that you went to bed early, as a bright student should, and that I’m hiding in some dark corner all alone like a loser.” You joked, pushing the door to your room open.

“I’m not Nevermore’s brightest student, Morticia is,” Larissa said, her crimson-painted lips falling in a soft pout.

“Ha, so nothing about me not being a weirdo or a loser?” You feigned being hurt before letting out a chuckle. “Morticia doesn’t have half of your intelligence nor a quarter of your beauty. She’s got a big pair of tits, that’s all.” You shrugged, closing the door behind you.

Something churned inside Larissa’s stomach, the early stirrings of jealousy making her face grow hot at the mere thought of you finding Morticia somewhat attractive.

“Kiss me,” she demanded.

“Wait, I’ve got something-“You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as Larissa's lips crashed against yours, bruising and demanding.

Larissa opened her mouth and you quickly followed, allowing her to thrust her tongue against yours in a dance you two had been rehearsing for months. Her lips moved down your chin and up your jaw, leaving a trail of red marks that you’d have to scrub at in the morning.

“Riss-“ you whined when she nipped at the thin skin of your neck, gently pulling away from her. “Wait, wait-“

Larissa reluctantly let go of you, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and clearing her throat.

“I want to take my time,” you explained. “We always do this so quickly, most of the time I can’t even get you fully naked. Let’s take our time, everyone will be busy downstairs for another couple of hours.”

Larissa pushed a small smile and nodded. She sat down on your bed and watched as you pulled something from underneath it.

“How on earth did you get that?!” She squealed, nearly ripping the green bottle from your hand.

“Borrowed it from the kitchen,” you shrugged.

“You know that borrowing means you’ll give it back at some point, right?” Larissa mumbled as she read the tag on the bottle.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll buy some cheap bottle from the supermarket downtown and put it back in the kitchen.”

Larissa let out a snorting laugh and shook her head.

“Do you even know how much this is worth?” She said, gesturing with the bottle in her hand.

“Now don’t be rude,” you raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one that comes from a rich family, not me.”

“Shut up and pour us a glass, if you have anything to open the bottle with!” Larissa pouted. You knew she hated being reminded that she came from money, but it simply was the truth.

“Who do you take me for, a rookie?” You huffed as you opened your bedside table only to pull out a bottle opener and wave it victoriously in Larissa’s face, making her laugh.

What happened next was a little blurry in Larissa’s mind. She remembered sharing the wine, drinking straight from the bottle as you laughed about everything and nothing. She remembered spilling wine on the awfully expensive gown her father had bought her for the Rave’N, and then soft hands helping her out of it. Her head between your thighs, yours between hers. She remembered falling asleep in your arms and waking up still in your arms the next morning. And that had been the breaking point for Larissa. Her parents would never agree to this, to her having this sort of feelings for women, for you. She had to nip this in the bud before it went too far. And so she did.

Larissa made sure to avoid you like the plague after that night, going as far as becoming friends with Morticia Frump and her clique even though she knew how much you disliked them. And then came Henry. He wasn’t Larissa’s type, obviously. But he would please her parents and so she let him court her until they officially became a thing. Then everything had gone so fast, her final year at Nevermore, the graduation, Henry proposing.

“Larissa!” You ran after her inside Nevermore after witnessing Henry’s proposal in the yard. What a dick move, proposing right after she had graduated. Nice way to steal her spotlight.

Larissa spun on her heels, fidgeting with the new ring that felt unfamiliar on her left hand.

“What do you want?” She sighed, trying her best to keep her eyes off of you.

“You can’t do that,” you said, shaking your head. “You can’t marry him, you don’t even love him! Larissa, please…”

“Please what?” Larissa snapped. “What did you think? That this fling we had would turn into more than it was? Don’t be ridiculous.”

You swallowed your pain, refusing to let your heart burst at the seam.

“When you wake up next to him in a decade or two,” you said, fighting against the lump in your throat. “And you’ll realise that you’re nothing more than his wife, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of everything we shared all of those years ago.“

It was Larissa’s turn to swallow thickly as she took in your words. Marrying him meant security, a normal life. But it also meant losing her freedom, Larissa knew that.

“Say something,” you pleaded, hoping that it would be enough for your ex-lover to change her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she simply replied, holding her head high as she always did in any situation - good or bad. “You knew this would come to an end.” She added before giving a small nod and walking past you, the sound of her kitten heels echoing down the corridor.

She hadn’t seen you since. You hadn’t replied to the wedding invite she had sent. She had hoped you’d show up, she’d hoped to prove to you that she had made the right choice. That she was happy in the life she had picked for herself. That she had moved on. But she hadn’t really moved on, had she? Drinking herself half-blind almost two decades after she’d last seen you. Maybe you had moved on. Surely you had.

When Larissa was pulled back to reality, to the empty kitchen and the emptier glass of wine in her hand, tears had started running down her cheeks which she hastily wiped away.

She had thought about reaching out more times than she would ever admit. But she never dared. Not when she had found your Facebook and you seemed so happy with that woman on your profile picture. She would never dare reach out to you for she knew that you would tell her what you always did whenever she had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

I told you so, Larissa. You know I hate to say it but I told you so.

And Larissa wished, she wished she had listened to you. She wished she could go back in time and she wished she could forget you.

But Larissa knew - she would have to stop the world to stop the feeling.

————————————————————————

taglist: @weemssapphic, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @dingdongthetail, @azu-zu, @gwensfz , @erablaise-blog , @rainbow-hedgehog , @renravens , @kaymariesworld , @niceminipotato , @agathaandgwenslesbian, @witchesmortuary , @notmeellaannyy , @gwenilover, @weemswife , @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 , @redkarine , @women-are-so-ethereal , @opheliauniverse , @willisnotmental , @raspburrythief , @vigelvictoria, @fictionalized-lesbian , @weems13 , @lynn1ebug, @ness029 , @geekyarmorel , @h-doodles , @cxndlelightx , @m1lflov3rrr , @winterfireblond , @nocteangelus15 , @aemilia19 @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @1-800-milfdilf @vendocrap8008 @opalthefrog @jkregal l @gela123 @lilfartbox1 @raya0jpg @xuukoo @bellatrixsbrat @sadsapphic-rose @dumbasslesbi @larissaoftarthweems @larissalover3 @friskyfisher @thesamesweetie @fliesinmymouth @imprincipalweemspet @forwhichidream11 @amateurwritescm @imlike-so-gaydude @sugipla @lvinhs @http-sam @franouo @mysteriouslysapphic @gweninred @a-queen-and-her-throne

[cissyenthusiast010155]

What do you think about a threesome with lady lesso and lady dimitrescu🤭🤭🤭😫

Yes yes yessss. This one is Larissa xLady Dimitrescu. Lady Lesso and Lady Dimitrescu to come… 😏This is a collar with @scream-queenlover !!! I thoroughly enjoyed working together on this with you, love 💞💞💞 One Alrissa xReader threesome Coming up… ♥️

Fabulous Night to Remember ~Larissa Weems xAlcina Dimitrescu (Alrissa) xFem Server!Younger!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, implied age gap (all legal), threesome, smut, sex, implied face riding, shapeshifted dick, fingering, ass grinding, pussy grinding, p in v, double entrance fucking, blindfolds, body adoration, begging, teasing, edging, kissing, marking, praise, praise kink, biting kink, begging kink, implied bondage kink, marking kink, blindfold kink, ma’am/sir kink, pet names, daddy kink, pet kink, etc.

Enjoy (;

Three years. It had been three years now. Three years ago, Larissa had met the love of her life. Alcina. And two years ago, Alcina had asked Larissa to marry her. It was a fever dream.

But it was all very real. For their anniversary, the two had picked a restaurant known for their wine, as both women had a sweet tooth for a glass of red. Larissa had to work that day, and so she and Alcina had agreed to meet up at the restaurant at 6. Alcina pulled up to the restaurant and saw that Larissa’s car was already there.

Of course, the blonde was already here…

Alcina chuckled to herself as she got out of her vehicle and entered the restaurant. She was used to the stares, hell, so was Larissa. And so both women just ignored it. Alcina found Larissa already sitting and looking at the menu. As Alcina’s eye caught the distinguished, blonde’s, Larissa set down the menu and smiled lovingly towards her wife.

“Good evening, why is such a pretty lady sitting all alone in such a fine restaurant?” Alcina flirtatiously said to the blonde.

The blonde gave the tall, handsome woman a teasing look, but played along with her, feigning innocence.

“May I join you?” She said with a smirk.

The blonde put on an innocent face “ I shouldn’t do that.. you know I am married and if my wife were to find out…”

They both shared some laughter after their cringy and flirty exchange, and Alcina took a seat at the table, facing her wife and taking the menu in her hand, studying it intensely

~~~

You scanned the restaurant and the tables you were responsible for this evening. You had brought a tall, blonde lady to Table 7 with two menus, and she had stated that she was waiting for her wife and if you could come back when she arrived. You nodded politely, agreeing pleasantly with the statuesque woman. You went back to the bar where some drinks for your other tables were waiting for you. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander back to table 7 every now and again…

The blonde was absolutely stunning and she had already caught your eye when she entered the restaurant 10 minutes ago. She was tall, beautiful and elegant, you assumed she must be in her early to mid 40s. Her British accent sent you almost to your knees. You had a weak spot for older, more mature women and when they had an accent, it just was the cherry on the top. When she mentioned she had a wife, your mind absolutely lost it and went straight to the gutter.

~~~

“Good Evening, my name is Y/N, and I will be serving you tonight.”

You blushed slightly at your own choice of words, and the raven haired woman’s smile was simply ever so entrancing. Snapping back to reality, you took both women’s orders. They were starting with a bottle of sparkling water and a bottle of Chianti. You nodded as you jotted their order down and left them to run over the menu. You gave them a fluttering glance as you entered in their drink orders, blushing once more at their ethereal beauty as the two were passionately in discussion.

~~~

“Darling…? You wouldn’t happen to fancy that pretty, little waitress, would you…?” Larissa presumptuously purred, pretending to eye her menu while actually fluttering her gaze to and fro Alcina.

Alcina was more than happy to play along.

“Dearest Wife…! I’m simply stunned that you would ever suggest such a thing!” She exclaimed in a hushed tone, feigning surprise and disappointment.

At this, both women chuckled.

“Besides, I’m not the one who called her ‘pretty’, am I…?” Alcina teased the blonde, eliciting a light blush from Larissa.

The two women began having a deeper conversation about their time together and their lives before each other. You brought over their drinks, setting them on the table, flipping their glasses over, opening their bottle of water, and then pouring them both a glass of the red wine. You did all of this with two pairs of watchful eyes on you, which only made your hands shaky and your face blooming a darker red. Both women had forgone their menus and conversation, happily taking their glasses of red from the pretty, little waitress.

You then took out your notepad to take their orders, but the blonde reached out and lightly grasped up your wrist, stopping you. You looked at the woman in awe and shock. She was touching you. You wanted more. Her touch was so soft yet so direct.

“I… Ma’am…?” You choked out, your cheeks blushing a deep fusia.

“We’re not quite ready to order yet, Darling…” The blonde purred, her eyelids batting at you playfully and her glimmering blue eyes staring you down with intensity.

“I— No problem…” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering over to the other woman, who was watching the show intently and with a smirk on her face, “I can… come back in… in a few minutes…”

Then the blonde let you out of her light yet direct hold. The trance broke.

“Wonderful, thank you, Darling…” she purred.

You gulped and nodded, walking away completely stunned and at a loss for words. Both women turned their attention back to their menus.

“My ‘Rissa, Don’t you think it’s a little cruel to be messing with the poor girl…?” Alcina chuckled.

“Oh Alcina… I love you dearly, but it’s not cruel, when she is practically begging us to… Watch her actions. The way she stumbles over her words, the way she blushes, the way she responds like such a good girl…” Larissa teasingly hums.

“Careful… Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Dearest…” Alcina purrs.

“What? Are you telling me you are not interested in the girl, Darling…?” Larissa challenged, putting down her menu as she had now chosen what she wanted.

Alcina finally looked up from her menu to meet the blondes gaze.

“Of course I am…” she admits with a light chuckle, also having decided on her meal putting her menu down.

~~~

You were standing at the bar, cashing up your last table that just asked you to pay. You made your way to said table, letting the guests know what they had to pay, they left a generous tip and thanked you for your great service. You sincerely thanked them and turned around to go back to the bar, when you noticed the blonde and ravened hair couple signaling you that they were ready to order. You slowly walked up to their table.

“I assume you two have decided..” your voice was trembling slightly which wasn’t unnoticed by the two goddesses sitting in front of you.

“Oh yes Darling, we are very sorry to have kept you waiting. Your menu is just so extraordinary that it is too hard to decide. I think we both agreed on a Main course but is there anything you can suggest us for an appetizer?“ The blonde woman spoke.

Me… I would just suggest you take Me…

You shook yourself, trying to tame your thoughts.

“Well.. I.. I mean.. I would suggest the Baked Brie Platter with Assortments. It will compliment your wine perfectly…” your eyes were glued to the table, you were afraid if you looked into their eyes too long, they could read your dirty thoughts that were poisoning your professionalism.

You felt the two pairs of eyes wandering over your body as you waited for their final order. “Mhhm.. that sounds perfect Dear, you certainly know your wines don’t you…” the raven haired goddess spoke.

“Thank you ma’am.. I’m just here to please..” you could’ve slapped yourself again for the choice of words, making your face burn with heat again.

Both women had the biggest smirks on their faces which you saw in the corner of your eyes.

“Oh I am sure that you will serve us well” the taller woman commented, and with that sentence you felt a hand on the back of your thigh pulling you a bit closer to the table.

“If you don’t want this darling, let us know now and we will stop and nothing else will happen…” the woman assured you.

You felt a deep trust radiating from her and the only thing you felt you could do was nod.

“Sweet girl, we will need you to use your words…” the blonde woman softly demanded.

“I will let you know if I feel uncomfortable.” you breathed out.

That was the first time tonight that your voice seemed strong and confident. The hand on your thigh started to caress your leg and you dared to look up finally. Your eyes were met with the most shimmering, yellowest eyes you have ever seen, they intrigued you. As quickly as her hand was on your thigh, the quicker she took it away, leaving you squirming on the spot.

You took the rest of the order, the blonde woman ordered a Beef Wellington and the dark haired woman ordered Steak done Bleu. You made your way back to the bar, where you tried to comprehend what just happened.

Once at the bar you tried to get a hold of yourself and the situation you had gotten yourself into now. You had a strange feeling in your gut... excitement mixed with nervousness mixed with… you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it... you had no idea who those women were, no name, age or anything... but somehow you trusted them and you felt safe.

You tried to get your mind clear by focusing back at work, waiting tables, cleaning off and setting the table for new guests. You heard the familiar ping of the kitchen's bell, that the food was ready to be served and you went to the kitchen window to pick up the orders. A Beef Wellington and a Steak done Bleu... suddenly the feeling got back paired with something new... arousal... you could feel it build up in your abdomen, you could feel it pooling in your knickers... you were aroused and somehow you knew that this would not get better… no it would get wetter… the stupid pun left you grinning like an idiot, and so you tried to compose yourself. So you grabbed the two plates and made your way to table 7. On your way to the table it suddenly hit you, you forgot who ordered which Main. When you arrived both women had their eyes glued on you again.

“Beef Wellington.” you said, trying to seem professional… emphasis on trying...

“Oh Dear… Don’t tell us you forgot who ordered that... Did you forget…?” The dark haired woman mockingly said.

“I... I... well…” you stuttered, as you tried to clear your throat.

“You seem distracted… Y/N.”

You’d never heard your name being said so seductively…

“Tell us, Darling, what is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

It was just too much… the teasing, the names and the compliment...

You let out the smallest whimper… No one else in the restaurant would have noticed but the two women in front were clearly aware of what just came out of your mouth.

“What a pretty sound... I wonder what else we could get out of her... what do you think Rissa, my dear?”

“I think… we are going to have so much fun with her darling.” The blonde affirmed. “I ordered the Beef Wellington sweetheart. We don’t want to distract you more from your work, so please continue.”

You set the plates in front of the women and you couldn’t help yourself just to leave back to the bar and tell your colleague that you needed a 5 minute break. You went into the Staff bathroom and looked at yourself… your pupils were blown out, your face had a deep blush and you were sweating. You tried to calm your nerves with some cold water you splashed on your face and dried it off.

~~~

Larissa and Alcina both chuckled while watching you almost running away from their table.

“The poor girl, she has no idea…” Larissa chuckled, smiling at her wife.

“She seems so innocent… It's just so much fun to play with her.” Alcina claimed with a devilish grin on her lips.

“Are we sure about this?” making sure her wife is comfortable with everything that might be happening.

“Alci, I think she is perfect...” the blonde hummed.

Alcina’s smile widened and she leant over the table to give her wife a passionate kiss. They both raised their glasses and cheered the night away. When they settled their glasses, both of the women started eating their respective meals and continued with a bit more casual dining conversation.

~~~

You brought the two stunning, tall women another round of drinks, and as the night went on, the blush on your face only got darker. By the end of the night, all of your tables were cleared except that of the two women. They were having a good time, savoring the last bits of their wine, having finished their meals. All you had to do was give the women their check, process their form of payment, and then you were done for the night.

“I’m sorry, but the restaurant is closing in a few minutes…” you whimpered, placing the check on their table.

Both women stopped drinking their wine, and their gazes fluttered to you.This time it was the blonde who placed her hand on your arm. Your breath hitched.

“No worries, Darling. In fact… We were wondering if you’d like to come home with us for the night…?” She purred.

Your heart race tripled and your eyes frantically fluttered from one tall woman to the other.

“I…” you tried to speak, but your throat was hoarse and choked up, so you nodded instead.

“Use your words…” the raven haired goddess hummed wickedly.

You felt the blondes hand begin to wander teasingly.

“I— Yes! Yes please…” you stuttered with a flushed red face.

The poised, blonde then removed her touch, leaving you craving only more.

“Excellent. We’ll meet you out front in 10 minutes?”

“Yes…” you whimpered.

~~~

You left their table, scurrying to do your closing duties, and then clock out. You change out of your uniform and exited the restaurant with bated breath, only to be met by the two stunning women, having hailed a cab and waiting for you with shimmering eyes and smirking smiles. The blonde got in the cab first, and then the raven haired woman lended you a hand into getting in next, before getting in after you and closing the door. The woman gave the cab driver the address of the couples shared mansion in the mountains outside of Jericho, and the three of you were off. The little contact alone made you shiver, but now you were thigh to thigh with both giant goddesses. The blonde placed her hand right in the middle of your thigh, squeezing lightly.

“I’m Larissa by the way, Darling…” she purred.

You shuddered at the close proximity, how you could practically feel her breath on your neck. You then felt the other woman hand on your other thigh, hers much higher up.

“And I’m Alcina…” the woman on your right wickedly cooed.

You nodded breathlessly, clenching your thighs mindlessly. You blushed as Larissa’s fingers teasingly drew circles on your thigh, while Alcinas fingers edged closer and closer to your core. They were driving you crazy, and they knew it. You wanted to say something, anything. But not a single coherent sentence managed to come out of your mouth. Fuck, they had made you so needy and desperate. It was embarrassing honestly…

At one point, Alcina’s wicked fingers started to draw your thighs apart. You whimpered slightly, but embraced the touch and happily opened your legs as much as possible, so that your thighs were flush against either side of the woman.

Your eyes widened and you audibly gasped as you felt the blonde’s hot mouth nipping at your ear. Your face flushed darker than you would ever think possible, and your head instinctually swiveled to meet Larissa’s gaze. Her passionate, intent eyes met your needy and desperate ones. Her gaze flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. All the while, Alcina is was still relentlessly teasing your thighs, getting closer and closer to your core.

“I’d like to kiss you, Darling. Would that be alright?” Larissa gently purred.

You gulped and nodded eagerly. The blonde cocked an eyebrow at you.

“I… yes please I’m sorry— yes…!” You stammered.

Larissa hummed in delight at your response. She closed the gap, her lips connecting to yours in a slow, direct, and passionate kiss. She tasted like fine wine, fresh mint, and oaky wood. A breathy moan escaped your throat which Larissa’s lips happily swallowed with a hum. Alcina’s fingers finally grazed your clothed core, causing you to buck your hips, leaning forward, desperate for more contact, causing both women to chuckle wickedly and pull back all together. You whimpered at the complete loss of touch.

Suddenly, you felt the raven haired goddess’s fingers, directing your chin to swivel to meet her gaze. But before she could say anything, you lunged forward, crashing your lips into hers. Alcina happily met your passion in a fiery, lustful kiss. Her lips tasted like bloody wine, musky rosemary, and tangent iron. But she also pulled away, this time with a wicked smirk on her face, leaving you a needy, whimpering, desperate, thigh clenching mess.

~~~

Once you had arrived, the women led you to the front gates of a cozy mansion, perfectly hidden in the mountains of Vermont. Your breath fled, as they guided you through the front gates, the courtyard, and up the front steps of their home. And the inside… it was marvelous… Your jaw dropped at the whole ambiance of the place. Larissa took your hand, squeezing it lightly, and bringing you back to reality.

“In here, Love.” She purred, leading you into their bedroom.

Alcina locked the door behind the three of you. And now both women stood tall, towering above you, as you backed up and hit the edge of their massive bed. Your eyes frantically looked from one woman to the other once more. You whimpered as their gazes raked up and down your frame. You were their prey. You had been from the very moment they set their eyes on you.

“You’re so cute, Baby…” Alcina wickedly cooed, cocking her head to the side slightly in amusement.

Both women came closer to you.

“But you’re going to have to use your words, sweet girl…” Larissa tauntingly purred.

Your breath hitched. Your knickers were completely soaked through. You were dripping. They were now both flush up against you, their lips each grazing one of your ears.

“Do you want me to fill your needy hole…?” Alcina wickedly cooed.

“Maybe I’ll ride your face until all you can think about is me…?” Larissa tauntingly purred.

“Is that what you want…?” The raven haired woman taunted.

You gulped and nodded vigorously.

“Then be a good girl for us and beg…” the blonde lustfully purred.

Good girl... Oh how those words made your legs tremble and sent your thoughts right back into the gutter.

“Please... U…use me…” you stammered, your hands starting to shake.

You weren’t exactly innocent when it came to sex, but you hadn’t ever had a threesome, nor had you ever encountered a single woman as gorgeous and intimidating as the two in front of you right now. Larissa noticed the small tremor in your hands.

“Oh Baby, do we make you nervous…?” she purred, while taking your hands into hers.

You nodded slightly.

“If at any point you want us to stop, say Pinot Noir, it will be our safe word.”

You smiled when you heard the safe word… Pinot Noir… the second wine they ordered a few hours ago and you brought to their table.

“I will.” you reassured her, and she started smiling.

“So now, how about we help you ease the built up tension…”

Her hands started to travel up your arms, feeling the fabric, traveling up to your shoulders to the collar of your blouse.

“Is it okay if I undress you, Darling?” Larissa asked seductively.

“Yes please…” you almost moaned.

She began unbuttoning your buttoned down shirt, button by button. It was agonizingly slow and instead of helping to ease up the tension, it built up even more. You suddenly felt another pair of hands on your shoulders.

“Shh... Babydoll, relax, we are not going to bite... without your consent of course…” Alcina chuckled and started massaging your tensed up shoulders.

You hadn’t noticed her behind you. When you felt a little bit calmer you let your head fall back slightly, and Alcina let it rest against your shoulder. She let her mouth get closer to your neck and started placing light kisses over your neck, traveling up to your ear and back down to your shoulder. She started sucking on your pulse point at which you let out a soft moan, that just made her more eager to suck, lap, lick, and kiss. You were certain that it would leave a mark but you couldn’t care less at this very moment.

When Larissa had unbuttoned your blouse completely she let it slide down your arms and threw it to a nearby armchair. You mindlessly tried to cover your exposed body with your arms, which was not in the interest of the blonde goddess in front of you.

“Tss tss… don’t you dare cover up that beautiful body of yours… You don’t want us to tie you up, now do you…?“ she said, scolding, but with the most beautiful smile.

She looked you in the eyes and there she saw the answer, you had to say nothing, your pupils blew out even more and the blush on your cheeks was back again.

“Oh my… we have a kinky one…!“ Larissa exclaimed, but this time she was not looking at you, she gave her wife, who was still plastering kisses all over your neck, a vicious smile.

“Do we, now…? Seems like we hit the jackpot... My my, what are we going to do now…?” Alcina said between the kisses.

She let go of your neck suddenly.

“I have an idea... Stay like just that baby…” She purred into your ear.

You heard her heels walking away from you and a drawer was opened. The need to turn your head was growing bigger and you slightly let it wander, but a hand on your chin was stopping you.

“Ah..ah.. don’t peek.” She lustfully tutted, “It will ruin the surprise… and the only thing we want ruined tonight is you…” Larissa cooed and gave you a small kiss on your lips.

Alcina got back to the both of you and placed herself behind you again. She lifted her hands around your body and in front of your face, in her hands was a black satin scarf. Her hands stopped right before your eyes.

“We are going to take one sense away from you, so that your others will be heightened…”

And with that everything went black. It was not the first time you were blindfolded but still it made the pooled arousal in your knickers grow even more.

“Perfect... Now, where were we…?” Larissa chuckled.

Now two pairs of hands started to explore your body, the sensations incredible and all you could do was let out your pathetic soft moans and whimpers.

“Hmmmmm, your sweet sounds are just so enticing… Let’s see what other noises that pretty mouth can make…” the woman behind you lustfully commented.

With that, you felt her hands travel back to our bra. With one swift motion she opened it and your bra slid down your arms, exposing your perky breasts to the nippy air. It wasn’t terribly cold, but the air still gave you a shiver and made your nipples erect. One pair of hands found your breasts and softly massaged them, some of her long fingers found your stiff nipples and they rolled them between two fingers. The sensation made you moan out loud, and your hips rolling forward in a sudden jerk of pleasure.

“Mhh… you like that baby girl?”

Your mind was flooded by arousal and the only coherent thing you could do was again nod. This time it was not met with understanding words but with a pinch and tug to each of your nipples, which made you suck in a sharp breath.

“Good girls use their words…! Don’t make us say it again or we’ll have to punish that beautiful body of yours…” she said with a stern but soft voice.

“Yes ma’am, I like it very much…”

You had no idea why you chose ma’am but it just felt right in the moment and if you weren’t blindfolded you would have seen what impact it had on the woman you had just called that. Larissa’s own arousal was covering her thighs and the name calling was only intensifying it…

“Good Girl… I knew you had manners… Keep that up and you will be rewarded, sweet girl…” she said, while caressing your nipples.

While Larissa was taking care of your nipples and breasts, Alcina's hands traveled from your back to your front, finding the buckle of your belt and she started to open it, slowly taking out the belt from its loops.

“If you don’t keep it up, I will get to use this belt…” She whispered into your ear.

The shiver that was sent through your body made both women chuckle. You heard your belt being aside on the bed, and the pair of hands found their way back to your pants. She opened the button and zipper and let your pants slide down your legs, her hands exploring your now bare legs.

“Step out of your pants and kick off your shoes as well.”

You did as you are told.

“Oh wait… Why don’t we lose those knickers well…?” The blonde seductively noted, more to her wife than to you.

One swift motion of whoever’s hands made your knickers meet the floor just like your pants did moments before. Both women saw how drenched the fabric was and gave each other a hungry look, you were obviously not aware of that, but the silence was suspicious enough. Without a warning one hand of each woman found your core, one from the front and one from the back and their slender fingers were exploring your drenched folds.

“Oh Baby... Is that all for us…?”

“You are soaked... so delicious.”

Both women started kissing your neck, chest, back, shoulder… everywhere.. all while their fingers explored your core. You started to moan and whimper, one pair of fingers found your clit and started circling it tediously slow. Your breathing got unsteady, your hips were involuntary bucking forward. A strong hand held a tight grip at your hip and stilled your motion. You were not in charge, not that this was news to you but this small motion reminded you of that.

“Thank you…” you breathed out and you earned yourself a string of mhhs... and uhhs...

Both hands from your core were slowly retracted and you whimpered from the loss of contact, the hands left trails off your wetness on your skin and they started to explore your body even more. You lost yourself in the moment when you suddenly heard the sound of two lips meeting next to your right ear, the wives found each other and were now connected in a heated kiss, you could merely imagine the sight of it, the sounds were pornographic enough to send waves of arousal down to your core. They were both lost in each other, exploring their mouths, tongues fighting for dominance, moaning into each other's mouths, all while their hands were still on you.

They broke the kiss and exchanged a look that spoke more than words needed to. You heard zippers opening and fabric was falling down the floor. Your hands were taken by two soft, strong hands, leading you onto the bed.

“Come onto the bed with me sweetheart… We are about to give you a night you won’t forget…” Larissa promised you, and you followed her lead, crawling onto the bed.

You assumed Larissa stopped at the headboard because you couldn’t feel her movement anymore. You held your position and waited for your next order. You were met with a pair of hands, holding up your face and your lips were met with Larissa’s, her kiss was passionate and heated, you could taste her distinct flavor mixed with Alcina’s taste and it was the most wonderful mixture you had ever experienced. After a minute Larissa broke the kiss.

“Now, I want you to turn around and lay your back against me, make yourself comfortable between my legs.”

“Yes ma’am…” you answered while fulfilling her wish.

You slowly turned around, laid yourself down and rested your back against the tall woman’s torso, her breasts pressed against you. She intertwined her legs with yours to open you up for her wife and whatever would come next.

You twitched slightly as you could suddenly feel her hard, erratic breathing as well as her cool, slick cunt against your ass. The blonde then took your hands and held them behind your back. You moaned slightly at your vulnerability. You could feel the shift in the bed as the raven haired woman crawled towards you. Crawling all the way up to you, until she’s flush against you, trapping your body between the two wives. Alcina’s hand snaked its way down in between your legs, making you shudder and let out a guttural moan, as her fingers teasingly circled your bundle of nerves.

“Tell me… And be honest.” She breathed down your neck, “What do you want…?”

Your breath hitched as her hot mouth connected to your neck, biting and marking you as she awaited your answer.

“I want you to… use me…” you whimpered.

Smack!

Alcina slapped your pussy in response, eliciting a breathy yelp from your lips, which quickly turned into a whimper.

“The truth…” she wickedly reminded you.

You gulped and nodded, panting heavily.

“I want… I’m…”

Her fingers quickened their pace of circles around your clit.

“Oh God!!— Please I’m so stressed and needy…! Wanna be taken care of and fucked ‘n overstimulated till… till I forget everything but your names Ma’am please!!” You mewled.

Both women hummed in delight at your honest response. Your clit was still being teased so relentlessly that your legs were starting to tremble.

“I think we can manage then, hmmmm love…?” Larissa spoke into your ear, directing her words to her wife.

“Hmmmm, we certainly can…” Alcina cooed wickedly, moving her lips off of your neck.

You mewled and jerked against the women’s hold, as Alcinas fingers kept working your clit. Your core was aching and knotted, your need growing more and more. As you grinded the best you could against the teasing fingers, the woman behind you began grinding her core against your ass. Alcina’s tongue found a home on and around your perky nipples, as she playfully licked, sucked, and nipped away at them. You breathily moaned out at the newfound friction, eagerly bucking your hips and arching your back to meet both women’s pleasures.

You felt a tongue run up and down your neckline, making you whimper even more. Your hip jerkings were becoming more erratic and sloppy, as the raven haired goddess’s fingers continued to work your sensitive bud. Incoherent murmurs and whimpers began pouring out from your lips, your eyes rolling back. You could feel your body tensing up and then detensing in an agonizing way. You needed to be filled… Your pussy was clenching around nothing… And as if the woman could read your mind…

“Poor Baby… Your pussy must be fluttering like crazy… Clenching around nothing…”

Your eyes were screwed shut tight, and you nodded vigorously. You felt so empty… Yet the heat and tension in your body kept growing… And then fading… But everytime it came back, it came back stronger, pushing you to the edge more and more… And Larissa’s grindings against your ass, only made everything feel more sensual…

“Are you going to cum from just some clit play, sweet girl…?” Larissa chuckled, nipping at your ear.

“Yes yes yes Ma’am—!! Don’t stop please please don’t stop…!” You groaned.

Alcina’s other hand snaked its way around your throat, squeezing lightly. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened wide as a strangled scream escaped your throat. At your reaction, the hand around your neck only tightened. Larissa’s grindings were getting sloppier and her breathing in your ear was labored with groans escaping her lips.

“Oh Alci… I’m gonna… cum…!” The blonde pantingly moaned out.

“Baby, grind that ass against Larissa’s wet cunt…” Alcina instructed you.

“Yes… Ma’am…” you choked out, grinding back into the blonde as best as you could.

Larissa let out a breathy groan right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine and to your core. All the while, Alcina’s fingers continued their administrations and her hand tightened around your throat. All your whimpers and moans being stifled by the raven haired woman’s hand only made your pleasure grow trifold.

“Doing such a good job, Baby…” Alcina purred, while speeding up her circlings on your bundle of nerves.

You cried out in response, but your strangled moan was overridden by Larrisa’s leud moans as she crashed over the edge. She bit down on your neck, convulsing behind you, and this only sent you closer to your edge. Your hips grinded back forth quickly and sloppily.

“Wanna… cum—! May I cum…? Please ma’am…!!” You choked out.

“Alright…” the raven haired woman wickedly purred, “Cum for us, dear…”

“Yes Ma’a—Fuck GOD—!!” You let out a strangled cry, convulsing against the two women.

Your constricted throat spewed moan after moan as you crashed over the edge. Your whole body trembled as the waves of pleasure washed over you, and your walls clenched around nothing. Alcina continued to circle and stimulate your sensitive clit, helping you down from your high. Larissa had started kissing where she had broken your skin, and Alcina leaned over and licked up your oozing blood with a hum of delight. Their mouths met by your ear, and you whimpered at the pornographic sounds of them kissing and breathing down your neck.

When they separated, everything went silent. You waited with baited breath for either of the next woman’s moves. Suddenly you felt the blonde move out from behind you, as the raven haired goddess guided you to lean back on the headboard. You heard and felt the bed shift as both women sat in front of you, taking in your needy form. And then they came closer, each tall goddess taking a side of yours to come up flush against.

What we’re they up to now…?

“God…” Larissa lustfully groaned out, “I need her little heat cunt split open on my cock now…”

“I need to fuck her till there's no doubt in her mind who she belongs to…” Alcina wickedly husked.

Shivers ran through your body, and your breath hitched for the upteenth time. You whimpered and spewed a couple of “please pleases…” but that didn’t stop the two. You could feel a whole new wave of arousal slathering your cunt. Your brain was malfunctioning, was this real…?? Oh, it most definitely was… It was as real as the blonde’s breath on your neck, as real as the raven haired goddess’ teeth marking your collar bone, drawing blood once more.

“I need her to be a writhing mess covered in our cum, the taste of me stuck in her mouth for the rest of today…” the blonde breathily purred.

“I want her to daydream about me ruining her constantly…” the raven haired woman lustfully cooed.

Your body was now trembling with need, your brain short circuiting. Your hands began to wander… But both women quickly caught them, placing them above your head. You whimpered slightly, bucking your hips forward desperately. Your slick was collecting around your thighs as you tried to clench them, but were once again stopped by a pair of strong hands. So your waves of arousal started dripping onto the bedsheets… Fuck… Your mind was so frantic and needy. It spiraled with the dirtiest thoughts of what these women could do to do… And the scariest part was, you knew that they would do all of it. Once. Twice over. Until you were a mindless sex puddle. Their little toy… To do with as they please…

“I wanna fry that precious little slut brain so bad…” the tall goddess wickedly hummed.

“I want her to be in a heap for the rest of today and all she can do is let me hug and kiss her while her puppy parts shiver…” the taller goddess wickedly purred.

Then suddenly all their touch was gone. Nothing. They went silent. Except their heavy breathing. You could hear their panting. And you could feel their starring. Your own chest heaved up and down, as you squirmed, waiting for them to make their next move.

You kept your arms over your head even without the touch of any of the women. They both moaned in approval and you started to blush even harder. Suddenly two hands started to caress your upper body, agonizingly slow creeping up to your breasts, each hand finding one of your nipples and they started playing with them, first slow and soft touches, then getting rougher, pinching, pulling, and flicking your sensitive buds. The wives found your neck again and started to kiss and suck like you were the sweetest meal. You were certain that there would be more than just a few hickeys and marks leftover the next day. The fact that they were marking you as theirs made you even wetter, and you let out a string of moans which only spurred them on even more.

“Mhhm, your pretty sounds are divine…!” Alcina moaned into your ear, making your whole body shudder.

“So Pet... I have a surprise for you. It’s a bit of a secret… And I want you to feel it...” Larissa seductively moaned into your other ear, slowly taking one hand you had over your head.

The nickname puts goosebumps across your skin. She leads your hand down her body, brushing over her own breasts. You felt her nipples were perky and hard, and she let out a soft moan when your hand brushed past. Her hand led yours into her crotch and you couldn’t believe what you were feeling… The throbbing slick pussy that was grinding against you moments before, had now switched into a throbbing, thick cock.. Your brain short circuited to understand how that was possible, but nevertheless, it made you incredibly aroused and hungry for much more.

“Oh Pet... This is all for you. Feel me throbbing for you... I want to feel your tight walls clench around my dick… !”

She took your hand in hers and you both gripped her strong member. Alcina’s hand found you both and joined your slow stroking. The three of you kept stroking the hard cock and Larissa was overwhelmed with overstimulation mixed with a new wabre of feral arousal. You must have looked dumbstruck with your mouth left open, drool pooling up in your mouth which made you swallow hard.

“Plea—…ease.. Please… fill me up ma’am…?” You stammered out.

“Oh sweet Pet, call me Daddy…” Larissa cooly demanded and it made your eyes roll back.

“Please Daddy… will you please fill me up…?” You begged her.

“How can I deny such a well trained pet …? Turn around.” she said with a sweet but stern voice and slowly pushed you around so you were straddling Alcinas lap.

“I love to fuck my pets from behind… like the horny bitches they are…” Larissa commented from behind, making herself comfortable behind you and lining up her girthy member with your entrance.

Alcina was caressing your body and just enjoyed the show that was presented to her. Her hands wandered over your whole body, every inch of your skin was touched, her nails carefully scraping over your body, leaving red trails and goosebumps all over you. She suddenly grabbed your chin and led it closer to her face.

“I want you to moan into my mouth when Daddy enters you, sweet slut…”

And with that Larissa entered you without warning and made you moan the most pornographic sound into Alcinas mouth and she happily swallowed your lewd noises, kissing you deeply and exploring your mouth with her tongue. Larissa slowly pulled out and pushed her shifted member right back into you, making you moan out relentlessly. She repeated this slow act a few more times, before she found herself a steadier rhythm which made you moan out in the same rhythmic pattern.

Alcinas right hand found your clit and was drawing slow circles with her long digits, all while her other hand found her own core, collecting some of her own slick and presenting her fingers to your open mouth. Graciously you took the fingers in and started sucking on it like your life depended on it. The dark haired goddess drawed the fingers from your mouth with a pop and went in for a heated kiss tasting herself on your hot tongue.

“Please…Daddy…more…!!” you cried out, when you parted for air.

“Oh we have an eager one… Is Daddy not filling you up enough, slut…? Is your aching cunt desperate for more…?” Alcina concluded with a lifted eyebrow.

You were not able to form any coherent words anymore.

“Please... I just need more... Ohhh GOD—!! please..!” you begged, turning your head to meet Larissas hungry lips.

Alcina’s hand that had been circling your clit, while her wife was merciless filling you up from behind slowly moved towards your entrance where she was met with her wife’s throbbing member. Larissa stilled her movements to feel Alcina pushing two long fingers slowly into you, stretching you out to the maximum and also brushing past her hard cock. You both shivered from the new sensation and you grabbed after one of Larissa’s hands and intertwined your fingers with her.

“Oh sweet girl… You’re so tight… Filling you up so much…'' Alcina commented before curling her fingers and hitting the spot inside you that she was looking for, while Larissa started her thrusting and finding her pace from before again.

Your moans could not be contained anymore and your body slumped forward, pushing yourself against Alcinas big breasts. Now it was you that was sucking on her neck, leaving small bruises and hickeys, your free hand was searching for something to grip, slightly scratching her back. Alcinas let out the sweetest moans while she felt you losing yourself in arousal. The wives felt your walls clenching mercilessly around their respective member and fingers, they found each other's eyes and were lost into each other with arousal and deep intimacy and trust. Larissa leaned forward to give her love a deep and heated kiss. You heard the kissing sound and it made you bite down onto Alcinas shoulder a bit harder.

“My oh my… What a kinky pet we have… Bite harder, dear…!” She assured you and you obeyed, sinking your teeth into her while letting out your symphony of moans.

“Oh god… please… Daddy...Ma’am...I’m so close… please…!! I… I cum…? please…?!” You begged with all that was left in you.

“I don’t think our sweet slut has begged enough… What do you think, my love…?” the blonde goddess was asked by her wife.

The raven haired goddess then suddenly pulled her fingers from your stuffed hole. You let out a desperate mewl in response.

“No… I think she needs to earn it…” Alcina mused to her wife before turning her attention to you, “Make me cum and then you’ll be allowed to cum as well.”

All this while Larissa was still pounding into you. You drunkenly nodded, your hands stammering to the raven haired woman’s core. Alcina opened her legs for your access, and she led you to slip two fingers into her wet cunt. The woman sighed out in pleasure. You then began sloppily pumping and curling your fingers inside her, having real difficulty as the blonde was still fucking you to the edge over and over again. The squelching of your fingers swiftly and sloppily fucking Alcina’s core only added to erotic environment, making your need to cum only grow.

“That’s it, sweet pet…” Alcina groaned in encouragement, bucking her hips into your hand.

Your mind was fogging up and slipping more and more. You were getting extremely desperate. Everytime the blonde brought you right up the edge, she pulled out just enough to stifle your release. Meanwhile, you desperately continued to finger fuck the raven haired goddess. You could tell the woman was getting closer and closer to her edge. Finally, the raven haired woman came with a sinful cry, her walls clenching around your fingers. The woman then pulled your fingers from her drenched cunt and stuffed them into your mouth, making you moan. Suddenly, you felt two sharp smacks to your ass. That was your tipping point.

“Please please OH GOD please!!!” You screamed.

Alcina’s hand expertly snakes to your clit and began teasing it relentlessly, while Larissa continued to pound into your from behind.

“Come for us, Sweet girl…” the blonde purred.

You crashed over and into your orgasm at the blonde’s words. Larissa’s orgasm came right after yours, as she squirted ropes of hot cum into you. Massive waves of pleasure crashed into you, making your body tremble harshly. Screams left your lungs, and your head lolled back against Larissa’s shoulder. The women kindly helped you down from your massive, intense high, Larissa carefully pulling out of you. They caressed your sweaty and sticky frame lovingly, kissing away your little tears of overstimulation.

“Such a good pet for Daddy…” the blonde breathlessly purred.

“Hmmm, you did so good, little one…” the raven haired woman agreed with a hum.

A wave of exhaustion and satisfaction hit you hard. You collapsed back into the blonde. The two women then began lovingly and gently loving on and caressing you with light kisses and lingering touches. You felt a hand slip off your blindfold with ease. Your gaze met Alcina’s stunning frame. You nearly choked on your own air. She was gorgeous. At your reaction, the woman chuckled.

“Let me go get us some things to clean up…” she mused, getting off the bed and disappearing into another room.

You then became very aware of the blond goddess behind you who was pressing her lips up your spine. You sat up slightly and turned around, and your jaw dropped once more. She was stunning. Your eyes flickered down to where the blonde’s member had been, and you found that it was once more her slick cunt.

“Like something you see, Darling…?” Larissa lightly teased you.

You nodded sheepishly, making the tall blonde chuckle slightly. Larissa then scooped you up with ease and brought you to lean against the headboard next to her. The taller woman then returned with three washcloths, two damp and one dry, as well as three waters. She handed out the waters to the two of you, keeping one for herself. She then sat herself in front of you two.

“Drink. And open your legs.” She commanded.

You both opened your legs without a second thought, making Alcina hum in satisfaction. She then proceeded to clean both your legs, thighs, and around your core with the damp washcloths. She used the dry one to pat the sweat away from your figures. When she was satisfied with her work, Larissa came to her and cleaned up her wife in a similar fashion. You took that time to drink some water. The two wives then looked back to you, each woman coming to sit side by side with you.

“You did extremely well, sweet girl.” Larissa cooed, caressing your cheek.

“Amazing.” Alcina added on, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

Alcina leaned in to give you a sweet and soft kiss and you felt your heart beat faster, there was a warmth radiating inside you. Larissa was caressing your body and you felt yourself slowly drifting off. Alcina layed down your head on the pillow and snuggled you up against her front, while Larissa spooned you from behind, the two wives interwined their hands with yours and they shared a loving and sweet kiss over your body. When they broke the kiss, they both layed down on the pillow next to you and drifted off as well.

“I Love you Alcina” the blonde said with a sleepy voice.

“I Love you too Draga mea” Alcina answered her wife.

~~~

The next morning you woke up with two pairs of arms and legs tangled around your body and keeping you in place. The last night came back into your head and you first thought it was a wild dream, but you slowly realized it really happened and buried your face into the pillow. The smell of sex was still lingering in the room and it made your face blush in a deep red. You couldn't believe that you really went with the two goddesses. Your movement woke up the blonde woman behind you.

“Good morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?” she asked softly, placing a kiss on your neck.

“I’m… I’m feeling good…” you stretched your body a little bit “ maybe a little bit sore” you sheepishly admitted.

The dialogue causes the raven haired woman to stir awake.

“Why don’t you try getting up, hmmm…?” Alcina cooed wickedly, dancing her fingertips up and down your legs.

You cocked an eyebrow over at the woman.

“What, you think I’ll fall? I walk for a living, it takes more to make me fall.” You snorted in giggles.

Your reaction caused both women to chuckle and then burst into laughter.

“Hey!!” You exclaimed, playfully swatting both women.

Determined to prove them wrong, you crawled out of bed and went to stand up. You were extremely wobbly, but you managed to carefully make it all the way to the bathroom door. “See!” You looked back at the women with a shit eating grin.

But you were met with Larissa’s intense and determined stare and Alcina’s wicked smirk and a light growl.

“I think our pet hasn’t had enough…? Don’t you, Dearest?” Larissa purred, while staring you down.

You gulped.

“Oh I agree…” Alcina chuckled.

Both women then scurried out of bed, stripping themselves, taking your hand and leading your naked body into the bathroom.

“We’re not done with you until you can’t walk, Darling…” Larissa wickedly purred, backing you up against the large shower wall. The wives start to attack your sore body with their hands and with kisses, replaying the night before.

Oh what had you gotten yourself into…

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

Alcina Dimitrescu Masterlist

[theragethatisdesire]

"ti penso ogni giorno" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

first fic! kind of threw this together while traveling and had no beta readers, so please be nice to me. i've been spending some time in the italian countryside and got a little inspired.

pairing: reader x eren jaeger

wc: 7.5k (jesus christ)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, unprotected sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, princess), slight breeding kink (if you squint) crying, multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare

**title means "i think about you every day" in italian :')

Standing on top of this mountain looking over unfamiliar fields, you don’t remember a time in the recent past you’ve felt so at peace, the quiet fluttering of the sparrows easing the ever-present ache in your heart.

It was a tasteful ceremony. A small church in the middle of the Chianti region, in a little town with a name you couldn’t pronounce, decorated with so many candles that the room was sweltering, even with the breeze wafting in from the hills. Mikasa and Jean’s little girl, Clara, had played the role of flower girl perfectly; you hadn’t seen her since she was a newborn, and there she was, toddling down the aisle on fat little three-year-old legs. Historia and Ymir were beautiful brides, practically unchanged over the years, still as consumed with each other as they had been in college.

Even now, you distinctly remember a drunken night when Ymir promised Historia that she would take her to Europe one day, and here she was, marrying her beloved blonde in the heart of Italy. Another memory surfaces, parallel to that one, of someone looping an arm around your waist as you watched college-Ymir make her declaration, a whisper in your ear of the same promise. You pack that up and tuck it away as soon as it surfaces, scratching at your elbow.

“What are you doing out here?” Mikasa’s voice is behind you, drawing closer. You smile down at Clara, holding her mother’s hand and wobbling out into the grass.

“Just thinking,” you sigh, swishing your wine around in its glass, “I should come back in and join the party.”

“They just finished the champagne toast, but you haven’t missed the first dance,” Mikasa agrees.

You take Clara’s other hand and reluctantly allow yourself to be led back into the thick of things, the two of you swinging the little girl between you. Her shrieks of joy make you smile in spite of yourself, calming the nerves fluttering around in your stomach. Years had passed and things had changed, you and everyone else around you included.

It was a gorgeous reception, even more beautiful than the ceremony. They’d chosen a huge stone patio outside of the massive villa they’d rented, covered by columns of stone arching up to form a roof and dripping with flowered vines. It was exactly what you would’ve chosen, so beautiful it didn’t need decoration. Simple, natural, Tuscan.

“He didn’t bring a date,” Mikasa murmurs to you as you enter the terrace, scanning the room for Jean. She didn’t need to specify who “he” was; you had seen him at the ceremony, longer hair than you remembered, two rows ahead of you. Even if you hadn’t, the sad truth was there was really only one “he” for you, and Mikasa knew that.

“What do you want me to do with that?” You respond, trying and failing to mask your discomfiture with irritation.

“Whatever you want,” Mikasa shrugs, vague as always, scooping Clara up onto her hip and striding across the tented reception to Jean. You watch her go, watch Jean take Clara and kiss Mikasa, envy and self-pity clawing at your heart.

Ymir and Historia chose a slower song than you expected; it must be Historia’s doing that they were doing a first dance at all. Ymir had made it exceptionally clear during the bachelorette trip that all of the frills were to make Historia happy, and she was mostly looking forward to the honeymoon. The memory makes you snort into your empty wine glass, until you catch a glimpse of green eyes across the room.

Eren’s suit is more expensive than anything you knew he owned, sharp at the corners and resembling something your boss’ boss would wear. Mikasa had mentioned months ago that Eren and Zeke’s business was really taking off, but you find yourself wondering if these were the clothes he wore now, or if it was a splurge. He’s staring at you, no surprise there. Breakup aside, Eren’s the most possessive person you’ve ever known, and anything that was his is always his, at least from his point of view. That was part of the problem, you reflect, tracing your red fingernail around the rim of your wine glass.

The first dance concludes and amidst the applause, waiters begin circling the room with hors d'oeuvres, little bits of smoked salmon and crudite platters. After the travel and ceremony, you’re ravenous, and you begin weaving your way through the crowd to track down a tray with carbohydrates on it.

You’re halfway through stuffing a croquette into your mouth when Armin interrupts you, chuckling. “Hungry?”

“I only flew over this morning,” you excuse yourself, dabbing at your mouth with a cocktail napkin. Armin doesn’t care, you know that, but after the last few years of cocktail hours with the most influential magazine and website owners in the world, manners are second-nature.

“At least it was a short flight. You came from…Belgium?”

“Moscow,” you shrug, “four hour flight into Milan, two hour train, hour long car service.”

“Car service?” Armin cocks an eyebrow. “Haven’t you gotten fancy over the years?”

You blush, embarrassed. “Did you fly from the states?”

“Shanghai, actually.” Armin’s face shows it, still puffy from the flight. “I don’t even know how many hours, just that it was long.”

“I’ve made that flight,” you say, empathizing, “not a fun one.”

“I was able to throw some miles from my company card into it and get first class, though, it was the nicest-”

“Can I join you two?” Your heart drops. You knew he was watching you, he’s always watching you, but to be so bold as to interrupt a conversation, speak to you here? Now?

“Sure, Eren,” Armin steps to the side to make room for Eren at the high-top table you’ve found yourselves gathering around, “we were just catching up on our flights over.”

Eren nods, masterfully collected as he smiles politely at you. “I actually had business over here, so I left New York maybe…a week ago, now? It wasn’t bad at all, our company card covers first-class flights.”

Some strange mix of annoyance and being impressed swells in your throat. You take a swig of wine to swallow it, not trusting yourself to resist throwing out a snarky comment or alternatively inquiring about where this first-class-covering business card came from. You don’t owe him the satisfaction. Armin nods politely, but you can see the tension in his smile. The history between Eren and you could stretch for miles of scorched earth, and it’s no secret. You imagine that earth, black and smoking, half-finished houses with white picket fences smoldering down to their foundations.

“So,” Eren breaks the silence, turning to you, “where did you come in from?”

“Moscow.” One-word answers, minimal detail, you assure yourself in your head. He won’t get his claws in you this time if you don’t let him.

“Moscow is beautiful,” Eren sips the bourbon that you had considered throwing in his face when he approached, “but a little cold this time of year, isn’t it?”

“It was very nice, actually,” you can’t help disagreeing for the sake of it, “I was only in town for a few days covering a story, anyway.” Shit. You’ve betrayed yourself already and revealed a detail. Eren’s smile curls up over his cheeks like a cat that’s found a trapped mouse. You kick yourself inwardly.

“Hear that, Armin? Our little bookworm is still writing.”

You roll your eyes at the old nickname from college, earned by your constant pleas to stay in for a comfy night instead of a frat party. You had read over 350 books in college, breaking your four-year goal by at least fifty. Eren used to beg you to tell him the stories you read before bed like a child, because he couldn’t be bothered to read the actual book and it sounds so much more interesting when you read it, baby. And up until the last three years, you had obliged him. Now, the only person you read to sleep is yourself.

“I made a career out of it,” you snip, “so yes, still writing.”

“Clara’s getting into the wedding cake- I don’t see Mikasa, shit, one sec-” Armin’s sentence is cut short by the speed with which he darts away from the pair of you, running off towards a table on the other side of the room. You don’t necessarily blame him, but you seethe anyway, vowing to repay him for abandoning you.

“Career, hm?” Eren hums pleasantly. “Work’s going well, then?”

You snatch a second glass of wine off of a passing tray, wanting more than anything to walk away from him, but you both know your feet won’t move. Getting a nice buzz going is your only option, at this point. You take a healthy swig, shrugging. “I enjoy it, and it pays.” 

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Eren murmurs, quiet and thoughtful. You blush and frown all at once.

“Says the one wearing a $6,000 suit.”

“Is it?” Eren fingers his lapel. He looks amused, and you want to smack the faux-bashfulness right off of his face. “I honestly didn’t know.”

“Your work must be going exceedingly well, then,” you glare, seeing right through him. The facade falters for just a moment, a critical moment: Eren almost looks sad.

“The business took off about a year ago,” he’s not looking at you, focusing on something in the distance, “so I’m traveling almost constantly now. I hardly see Zeke, my only company is usually just my assistant or a flight attendant. I love visiting a new city every week, but it’s…”

“Lonely?” You finish for him before you can stop yourself. He nods, looking surprised.

“Your work keeps you on the go now, too?”

“I switched over to a rolling travel schedule two years ago, when Rolling Stone started their global music column. It ended up being super popular and I’m the lead journalist, so I’m basically running all over the world listening to the weirdest music you can imagine. They had me head over to Berlin one time to cover the ‘rising alien punk scene’; it was…really something.” You pull a funny face at the memory, Eren laughs, a deep, real laugh from the belly. You can hear yourself rambling, revealing, but you can’t stop. It’s so natural that the realization of falling back into yourself, the self that loved Eren, is making your skin crawl. You should walk away, look for an out-

“Have you explored the grounds at all?”

Eren’s question snaps you out of your moment of clarity, back into his magnetic field. “The grounds?”

“This house,” Eren gestures to the villa that Ymir and Historia have rented for their closest friends, “sits on over a thousand acres of vineyard. The best wine in the world.”

“I can tell,” you examine the legs on your glass of red, provided by the vineyard itself, “it’s not my usual French, but it’s incredible.”

“Snob,” Eren grins at you. You have always been a picky wine drinker, Eren used to joke that you could pass a sommelier test without even taking the course. “So, the grounds?”

He offers you an elbow. You look at it, weighing but not really weighing your options, and slip your arm through his, feeling the rapid thudding of your pulse. You’re fairly sure if anyone looked closely at your neck, they’d see the frantic heartbeat insistently pushing right under your skin. You tell yourself it will only be a short walk, just a few minutes, because you do want to see the grounds, even if it’s with the last person you should be spending any time with. You hope that you’ll be able to sneak out without catching Mikasa’s eye.

Eren tugs you along, prattling on about the history of the vineyard, entirely unaware that you’re not listening. This Eren is so different from the Eren you left in New York, but still similar, still feels like home. His nose and jaw have only grown stronger with age, but his eyes still have a youthful glimmer, even if they seem sharper and more intense than you’ve ever seen them. It’s unlikely that he’s physically grown even taller between 23 and 26, but his presence makes him seem like the tallest man in the room. He’s self assured, confident, and in charge, in a manlier, more mature way that you’ve never seen before. A heat simmers in your stomach as you admire the curve of his strong neck, and you want to swat your own hand, tell yourself to settle down. It’s just a walk.

“I think I could die happy here,” Eren says, looking over the view you’ve approached, about a half mile from the rest of the party now. You chuckle.

“A beautiful view and some good wine is all it takes?”

“That’s most of it, these days,” Eren shrugs, “but I do need cable. And-”

“A television, a gym, at least one case of shitty domestic beer in the house at all times,” you count off on your fingers.

“For starters,” Eren concedes with a shy grin. “And a wife.”

Those last two words cause your heart to stop altogether. You look around, realizing just how far you are from the villa, how alone you are with him. The sun is setting reluctantly around you both, sinking slowly, holding onto the landscape with an iron grip.

“That would be nice,” you stammer, “f-for you, definitely.”

“Want to explore this building over here?” As if nothing out of the ordinary happened, Eren points out a smaller home down the hill from you both. “It’s really cool inside.”

You trudge along beside him, having kicked off your heels and left them at the reception long ago, and a fresh wave of anger kicks up in your chest. It was just so quintessentially Eren; drop a bomb, and then act like nothing happened. It reminds you that there are aspects of Eren you can’t stand, and that reminder instills you with the confidence to seclude yourself with him in the charming little stone house.

It is really cool. No window panes in the entire bottom floor, just the fresh vineyard air rolling in. There’s a little kitchenette, some various odds and ends of sofas and chairs sprawling across the clay-bricked floors. A huge table, clearly made for workers’ lunch breaks over the centuries, squats in the middle of the bottom floor, and racks of wine cover the walls. You break away from him to pick up a bottle or two, examine the label, brush off some dust.

Eren grants you a few moments to yourself before you sense him behind you, closer than you want to consider.

“Anything good?” He says, peering right over your shoulder from the sound of it.

You turn around before you can regret it, chest to chest with him. He’s hunching his head to make the best eye contact with you he can, the way he’s always done. You focus on breathing normally, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how his proximity still affects you after all these years. “A ‘92 vintage Chianti. They actually talked about this wine in my sommelier course; I didn’t even realize this was the same vineyard.”

“You took the course?” Eren smiles crookedly, an endearing grin that you’ve always loved. You smile despite yourself.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly, “I took the course.”

Eren grins wider, and thankfully leaves you there, striding across the room to shuffle through the kitchen drawers. When he returns, he’s holding a wine key and two glasses. You cock your head, confused.

“It’s supposed to be the best, huh? Crack it open.”

“Eren…” you trail off, holding the bottle gingerly, “this bottle has to be over a thousand dollars. We can’t do it.”

“Did I forget to mention this is my bunk for the trip?” He smiles again, his prominent canines glinting in the sunset light streaming in, gesturing around the room grandly; your knees nearly buckle at the sight. “Bedroom’s upstairs. Ymir and Historia said any of the wine’s up for grabs. It’s the owners’ fault if they left the good stuff out for us to get into, and it’s on my tab anyway.”

You’re nearly speechless, not only that Eren got an entire house to himself (he’s always been the spoiled brat of the friend group), but that he tricked you into coming here, with him. When you fail to respond, he takes it simply as more reluctance to open the bottle, and he grabs the bottle from you and starts to dig the corkscrew in through the top.

You let a few beats pass, considering your options as he pours the wine. When he finally hands you the glass, you give voice to your thoughts, testing the waters. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Because you love wine and the house is cool,” Eren shrugs innocently, taking a sip, “damn, that’s good. Try it.”

You hold your glass stock-still in your hands. “We’re done with…what we used to do, you know. That’s not what’s going on here.”

The air sparkles with dust; Eren’s demeanor stutters, a small frown working its way onto his face. “Just try the wine, babe.”

Your heart flutters, your stomach sinks, your memories with Eren shriek from the back of your mind. The pet name is too familiar, too easy, and it brings a cold chill over you. As you’re prone to do, your panic comes shooting out coated in snark.“Babe? Yeah, no, I’m done-”

“Sorry, sorry– it was a mistake, force of habit,” Eren’s already apologizing as you’re talking; you hate how he can still anticipate your reaction before you can give it. He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, rolling his eyes, “a mistake. Try your wine, you don’t know when you’re going to stumble across that again.”

You let him hold your wrist, enjoying the pressure of his strong hands into the delicate flesh of your arm despite yourself. You look between him, the wine, the room several times, as if you’re weighing your decision. You know what you’re going to choose, but maybe you can pretend that he doesn’t know, too. Eren’s willing to play along, eyes wide and pleading.

Without breaking your gaze, you carefully taste the wine. Damn him, it is good. It has a complexity of flavor and a depth to it that’s incredibly rare, even in the French countryside wines you tend to favor. Even though you fight it, you smile at him and offer your glass for him to pour more.

The bottle passes quickly, both of you settling yourselves in chairs at the kitchen table, discussing old friends, new friends, reminiscing on the college years when you were both a little happier and a little less sane. You hardly notice the sun setting further, the smallest bits of twilight leaking into the corners of the sky.

“Your teeth are so red,” you giggle, head spinning. The wine was delicious, delicious enough for Eren to pop open a second bottle, but God, was it strong. You aren’t sure how you’ll manage the walk back up to the reception- is the reception even still going on?

“So are yours,” Eren pinches your cheek, giggling drunkenly along with you.

“God, you’re right.” You place a finger onto your teeth, rubbing frantically at the wine stains to no avail. Eren reaches a wobbling hand out to pull your fingers out of your mouth, shaking his head. He frowns and shakes his head, childlike.

“Don’t take them off.”

“The wine stains?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? They make teeth look dirty,” you laugh again, trying to shove your finger back into your mouth where Eren’s holding it.

“I…okay, maybe it’s weird, but I always thought it was kind of sexy when your teeth were all red from wine,” Eren blushes, and it’s so childishly endearing that you can feel your heart swell.

“Really?”

“I never told you that?” Eren looks astonished, chuckling under his breath. “It drove me crazy back when we were together. You’d go to Historia’s, or Sasha’s, or whoever’s and down a bottle or two of red and come stumbling back into that crappy apartment in Harlem-”

“-the one with the mean bodega lady outside!”

“Yes!” Eren snaps his fingers, pointing at you excitedly. “Anyway, you’d come waddling back in, hair a mess and wine all over your teeth, your lips would be bright purple, and you’d always be so horny-”

“Eren!”

“It’s true! You’d ride me for an hour before you knocked out.” Eren sipped his wine, smiling in a private way that you felt was just for you.

“An hour seems like a bit of a stretch,” you murmur, looking down into your glass. You’ve almost finished your wine and you shouldn’t have any more, the reception is waiting for you and you’ve been gone with Eren long enough that you’ve been missed at this point. When you pull your head up, Eren looks different. It’s a familiar face on a new man: his eyes have a mischievous glimmer in them, the sunset winking at you through his green irises.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips; your mind wanders to that tongue, those lips. Mentally, you dance over what you know those lips and tongue can do, how they feel on your mouth, your neck, between your legs. Your wine-addled mind tries to shake the persistent thought. Eren reaches a hand over to your mouth, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the corner of your lips.

“Still think it looks sexy,” he mumbles, half-drunk and half expecting a stern reprimand from you. His eyes search your face, curious of your reaction. It’s the moment you’ve been running around the world from for the last three years, finally coming to fruition here in this little house. 

You embarrass and surprise yourself simultaneously: tears well in your eyes. You want him; you’re drunk and beautiful and desperate for him in the beautiful countryside of Italy, but he’s so bad for you. They’re tears that have been waiting behind your eyes, tears of frustration and desire.

“Why are you crying?” Eren asks, furrowing his brow. You know he knows, he understands you and your emotions better than anyone. You’re angry with him, angry that he knows the source of your tears before you open your mouth.

“We’re done, Eren,” you fail miserably to steel your voice, “we can’t do this anymore, remember? It’s not good for us.”

“It’s been three years, baby,” Eren responds, still rubbing his thumb over your lips, “three years of growing. We’re different now– I’m different.”

“No,” you sniffle, feeling like a child. Whether he’s changed or not is still up for debate, but your sore heart can only take so much. He’s so beautiful, soaked in sun and wine and temptation, simpering at you. Your resolve is weakening by the second.

“Yes,” Eren insists, “it’s me. You belong to me, you know you do.”

“Eren–”

“You always do this, always try to run from me, but I’ll always find you,” he murmurs, “I’ll go to every corner of the earth if I need to. I’ll always find you because you’re mine.”

You’d love to say that he leaned in, he grabbed your face and pulled you to him, but you’d be lying. It’s you who leans forward ever so slightly, catching your chapped lips in his and kissing him tentatively. You wouldn’t be lying if you told anyone that he sighed into your mouth, ready to feel your body under his hands again. You wouldn’t be lying in the slightest.

Eren allows you a few tentative kisses, a few pecks against his lips, familiar and new all the same. Once you’ve had your fill of shyness, your obligatory ruse of unassuredness, he reaches for you, scooping you into his lap. You straddle him, whimpering at the friction of his already-growing bulge against your clothed cunt. He has to push your dress up to allow you room to spread your legs over him; you’re wearing a slinky little silk number, a gorgeous deep brown against your tanned skin, but not cooperative for lap-sitting.

Eren’s tongue is practically down your throat, teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you have to pull away for air, hands roaming your now-bare thighs.

“This dress,” he pants between kisses, “is so fucking perfect on you. Look so good for me.”

You sigh into his mouth, running your hands through his hair. Off to the side of your mind, you realize you may have knocked his hair out of its bun, but the dark locks feel so soft in your fingers, you can’t bring yourself to apologize for it. He’s wrapping his hands around your ass; Eren always loved your full hips, and it seems that that fact hasn’t changed.

Your hands find their way to his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He’s grown stronger over the years, definitive muscles rippling under your fingers, but the broadness he’s always possessed is still there. He’s large compared to you, twice as wide and at least a head taller, and you loathe to admit it, but it turns you on. You love the way he manhandles you, the way he pushes and pulls you exactly how he wants you, the way he grabs your hips hard enough to bruise, rocking them against his own.

A particularly well-placed thrust of his hips against yours elicits a wanton groan from you, spilling into his mouth. Eren moans back, moving away from your lips to mouth his way down your throat.

“Gonna sit you up now, okay?”

He stands, knocking the chairs aside on his way up, to set you on the table, the perfect height for him to grope at you, pull your dress this way and that.

“Wanna get this thing off, will you let me?”

You hesitate, or try to, at least. His hands are dizzying, flying all over your body and squeezing at just the right spots as he nibbles on your earlobe. “But, the reception–”

“Sh, sh, sh. We’re so far away, baby, they’ll never even know, yeah?” Eren goads you and you’re putty in his hands, the rapidly-shrinking rational part of your brain growing quieter with each kiss, each pet. He manages to wrench your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but a stringy pair of panties. Eren steps back to look over you; you resist the urge to cover yourself. You know his routine.

“Fuck,” Eren breathes, palming your tits, “you’re perfect, do you know that? So beautiful just for me, aren’t you?”

You flush pink from your chest to your forehead. Even after years of love and war and running, his bedroom talk still gets to you. Eren loves to tell you what he thinks of you, and you’ve never managed to grow accustomed to hearing it.

“Say it.”

“Hm?” You hum, preoccupied with his mouth pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses around your breasts, even pausing to suck a bruise into the side of your left.

“Say you’re beautiful, tell me how pretty you are for me.”

This part is new; Eren has always loved to talk to you in bed, but your participation in the dirty talk has been minimal until now. Your blush grows even deeper. “I’m beautiful, beautiful just for you.”

“Good girl,” Eren purrs, allowing you to pull his head closer to your chest. His tongue swirls around one nipple. He closes his lips around it, sucking hard, and you moan openly, pulling him closer. Eren grins, letting his teeth pinch down on it. “You still like when I play with your tits, hm?”

“Yes,” you hiss, too caught up in pleasure to address his smugness.

“Know you baby, know you inside and out. These tits are mine,” a hand wanders down to your cunt, swiping across your panties and feeling the wetness that soaks them, “and this pussy’s mine too. You might not love me anymore, but your body– oh, she loves me.”

You have no way to respond to that, no way to address what those words do to your brain. Chagrin as you might be to admit it, he’s right. Eren was your first and only adult relationship, fucking your body into submission for years and training it, training your cunt to respond to him and the way he liked to touch you. He’s pushed and prodded you into his perfect little fuckdoll, and you let him and you loved it. You loved every second of it, and god does it feel good rushing back to you now, finally under his hands again after years without.

Eren nudges your panties to the side, rubbing quick circles over your clit, just the way you like it. A long, heady whine leaks from your lips, your hips urgently roll towards him.

“Missed me? Is that it?” Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smug grin on his lips. Eren loves when you’re needy for him.

“Mhm,” you indulge him in the hopes you’ll get what you want, and you’re right. A long finger sinks into you, instantly curling to press into the spongy spot within your walls that has you swooning, clutching desperately onto his shoulders.

“That’s it, feels good doesn’t it?”

You pull at his suit jacket, fumbling with the buttons on his collared shirt. “Want it off, want to see you.”

Eren relents, pulling his hand from you to step back and strip his shirt and jacket. He is as muscular as he feels; you drag your eyes over his strong chest, his defined abs, and the deep V leading down below his belt. You briefly remember all of your post-college friends, girls that had never known Eren, teasing you that he was your hottest ex. You had blushed, but you understand. He’s like a Greek statue, glistening with sweat from the evening heat, every crevice of him on display just for you. It sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your body, and you pull him back to you, relishing in the feel of his hands on you.

“Want me to make you cum, is that it?” Eren’s amused, sinking two fingers into your heat. You croon, nodding desperately. He chuckles, moving his fingers against the spot inside of you. “I’ve got you, don’t worry baby. Gonna make you feel good.”

You nod again into his shoulder, attached to him wherever you can find the space, grasping his body and pulling it to yours. You wish you had the capacity to be ashamed of your need, laid bare for him to see, but you don’t. All you can think about is his fingers moving in you, gaining speed and bringing you closer to an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He slides a third in, just to be safe, and you’re so wet that your pussy accepts it willingly. The stretch makes you pout, push at his chest. “Too much, Eren–”

“Gotta get you ready for me,” he huffs, his arousal getting the better of him, “get you ready to get fucked. Cunt’s tight after all these years, isn’t it? Gotta work it open.”

That does a lot to your hazy brain; you bite deep into his shoulder, moans coming faster and louder as he works his fingers in you. The bubble is building in the pit of your stomach, your hips are canting towards him.

“Eren, Eren I–”

“I know, I know,” he coos, fingers curling inside you even faster, “my girl needs to cum, doesn’t she? You want to cum all over my fingers, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry into his skin, biting and moaning alternatively. Your head’s spinning; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. You’re no nun, not by any means, but Eren knows your body, crafted it to respond to him, to his hands and mouth and cock, and your body is rejoicing at the feel of him on and in you again. You can’t hold it, you know you can’t, you’re moments away now. “Eren, I’m going to cum, I’m gonna–”

“Do it, baby,” he growls into your ear, his fingers working even faster, thumb moving up to swipe at your clit, “give it to me, want to hear you cum.”

Your body convulses and you’re cumming hard, with Eren the first one of the night always goes that way. Eren knows it, pulls you close against him and works his fingers in you, helping you ride it out. He’s practically purring into your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, cumming all over his fingers like that, and you eat it up. You cry into his flesh where it’s secured between your teeth, rocking your hips into his hand desperately.

Your orgasm begins to fade, and you find the presence of mind to shove at his fingers, begging for a reprieve. “Give me your cock, want it in my mouth.”

“Is that what you need?” Eren’s already helping you onto your knees, gentle, but needy. “Need my cock in your mouth?”

“Please,” you say eagerly, adjusting your knees to a comfortable position on the dirt floor, easily unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. He steps out of his shoes, kicking his pants off, strong thighs twitching under your nails as you softly scratch down them. A groan rumbles in Eren’s chest at your enthusiasm, he places a hand on your head, running through your curls.

“Can’t be for too long, ‘kay?” Eren pants, hissing when you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock. “Still gotta fuck you, feel you cum on me.”

You hum your approval, popping him fully into your mouth with a satisfied moan. You’ve always loved taking him in your mouth, the comforting weight of him on your tongue. You’re getting impossibly wetter, feeling the heat gather between your legs as you bob your head up and down on him, listening to his satisfied little grunts and groans above you.

Eren rubs a hand over your cheek, mutters his approval, thrusts his hips forwards unwittingly a few times. You gag when he does, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You’ve taken him like this so many times, even with his impressive size, you love the feel of him pressing back into your throat until you choke.

“Fuck, fuck, baby it’s– it’s too much,” Eren indulges in a few more thrusts into your throat before grabbing your hair and urging you off of him, “need your pussy, okay?”

You’re not going to argue with that, letting him pull you to your feet, an anticipatory smile cracking across your face. You’re drunk on the wine and sex and him, babbling nonsensically. “Wanna feel you, Eren, need you.”

“I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good, princess.” Impressively, Eren scoops you off of the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both over to the wall, pressing you up against it. “Gonna make you mine all over again, yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

It’s a loaded question, but you’re so captivated by him, all you can do is murmur your agreement, tell him you want to be his because at least for now, you do. Eren’s magnetic, the man you run from so you don’t get lost in him, but tonight, you’re willing to drown. You’re begging for it.

The stone wall is rough against your bare back, but the head of Eren’s cock rubbing through your folds distracts you, a promise of what’s to come.

“Please, please put it in, Eren, I need–”

“My girl needs to be full, doesn’t she?” Eren’s smirking at you, slipping the tip of his cock in. Even the stretch of that alone is enough to make you moan, digging your nails into his back. “There you go, gonna fill you up, make you all better.”

You nod into his shoulder, the weight of your actions catching up to you as he presses himself into you, fills you entirely. Eren’s your kryptonite, he’s a drug, he’s an overwhelming presence, you can’t think straight around him. Before coming to this wedding, you told yourself you’d stay away, but you can’t help it. Everything about him is like he’s sculpted just for you, your body yields to him so easily you think you might be made just for him too. His skin, salty and sweaty from the summer air, is delicious under your tongue.

He’s moving now, fucking up into you desperately, like he loves you and like he wants to break you. You jolt in his arms, helpless to do anything but take and take and take everything he has to give you.

He smiles against your open mouth, placing a sloppy kiss over it. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, letting him manhandle you. Eren’s always rough with you, always riding the line of too much, and you love taking it. You love letting him push you to your limits.

“Missed my cock in you, didn’t you? This cunt was made for me,” Eren huffs, “made just for me. Mine, isn’t it?”

You don’t indulge him with an answer, loathe to admit that your cunt is made for him, but you feel yourself clench down around him, more of your wetness soaking his lower stomach. Eren chokes out some mix of a moan and a breathless laugh, fucking up into you harder. “What a perfect answer, baby. You love it, I know you do.”

“I love it,” you agree, simpering against him as your willpower fizzles out to nothing. You’re reluctant to believe it, but there’s another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Your body responds to him in a way it responds to no one else, clinging to him and growing wet for him and tightening around him.

Eren’s digging his hands into your hips, moving you up and down on his cock more so than actually thrusting. He’s panting against your ear, hot and heavy and in tune with your own gasps. He nudges his mouth down to plant sloppy kisses around your shoulder, just at the crook of your neck in the sensitive spot that he knows you love, remembers even after all these years. 

“Been too fucking long, baby,” Eren says, “gonna cum soon.”

You nod into his neck, cunt tightening around him at the prospect of his cum inside you. Just the thought of it sends your mind into orbit; a little fantasy forms in your hazy head of him fucking you like this every night, like he used to, a child with your curls and deep, green eyes-

“Gonna let me cum in this perfect cunt, aren’t you?”

As usual, Eren’s right in line with you– the synchronicity makes you moan again. “Please, please–”

“Gotta cum with me, alright? You can do that for me, can’t you?” You can, you will, but you’re so close to the edge when you try to respond your words are jumbled together. Even so close to his own release, Eren snickers at you. “My sweet girl’s all fucked out, can’t even talk.”

“Need your cum,” you manage, “please, Eren, m’close.”

Years ago, through strenuous games of overstimulation and denial, Eren trained your body to wait for him, you can’t cum unless he does and you know it. Your only option is to beg, hot shame warming your face. Eren remembers, just like you do, it makes him grin, feral and dangerous in the early evening light.

“Need my cum, baby? Needy, so needy, so beautiful,” he’s starting to slur, you know he’ll finish soon, “gonna cum in this perfect cunt of yours, never let you keep it from me again. Maybe I’ll knock you up, hm? Can’t run from me with my baby in you.”

Your watery eyes fly open at that, the logical part of your brain long-quieted, and you moan loud for him again, just the way he likes. Eren’s thrusts have grown sloppy, he’s grabbing you so hard now you know you’ll be left with Eren-shaped bruises on your hips.

Eren finally cums in you with your name on his lips, long and deep, keeping his cock fully seated inside you. It triggers your orgasm, a toe-curling wave of pleasure coursing through your body, straining your sore muscles. Eren’s mouth is pressed against yours and all you can manage is a whimper, feeling his cum warm your pussy, leak out around from where you’re both still joined together.

All the energy’s been pulled from your body now; you slump against his shoulder and whine when he slides out of you. Eren places you gently on the floor, presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before leading you upstairs on shaking legs. It smells like Eren up here, the pricey cologne he favors and the scent of well-loved sweatshirts intoxicating you. There are no words between the two of you as he leads you to the bathroom, helping you sit on the toilet seat as Eren rummages around for a washcloth to clean you.

“We need to go back to the reception,” you say weakly, wincing as Eren rubs the cloth over your cunt.

“What do you think?”

You frown, confused. “About?”

“Us, again,” he’s avoiding your eyes, focusing on his work between your legs. You’re not surprised he waited until you were disarmed to ask, brain still muddled and dizzy.

“Eren–”

“I am different now,” he finally meets your eyes, gaze alight with the burning, too-hot-to-touch love you know so well, the only love Eren knows how to offer, “got a therapist like you were always asking me to. I meditate every day. I’ll be so good to you, you know how good I am.”

He is good to you, you remember it well, your own tendency to flee was what broke you up in the first place. You’d left his heart shattered on the sidewalk of your apartment back in New York City, overwhelmed with commitment and unwilling to give his flaws the same grace he gave yours. You’re opposites: he’s hot where you’re cool, angry where you’re distant, argumentative where you’re cold. You sigh, head feeling heavy on your shoulders.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me? What about the lives we have now?”

“We’d make it work, line our schedules up together” the corner of his mouth curls, you want to kiss him again, “we’re always able to figure something out.”

You hate yourself for it, you want to run from him, get a car to the airport right now. You also want to pull him into your arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, kiss that hesitant smile on his face and never stop. “I…can I sleep on it?”

Eren’s face lights up, a kid on Christmas morning. He’s always been so expressive in these quiet moments; unreadable in a crowded room, but when it’s just you and him, his heart’s always been on his sleeve. He can’t help it. “Yeah, just sleep on it.”

You get yourself as put-together as you can, wipe the mascara from under your eyes, slip the dress back over your shoulders and concede one more kiss to Eren. It’s slow, long and languid, tongues slipping over one another, the desperation now cooled into a sense of homecoming. 

You hold hands as you climb the hill back to the reception. Your knees wobble, and it makes Eren laugh, makes you blush. He’s still going on about the villa’s history, and you’re half-listening, admiring the stars above you both. The reception is still going on, albeit a bit more subdued than earlier. Some guests have trickled out, finding their beds, but your friends are still seated around a table, drunk and laughing.

Connie’s the worst, of course, leaning on Jean and regaling everyone with a tale about their Midwestern childhood together; Mikasa’s buried under Clara, who’s sleeping soundly in her lap; Ymir and Historia are alternating between listening and kissing one another; Sasha’s struggling with a corkscrew and a tricky wine bottle, Armin attempting to help her.

Your face warms as all eyes turn to you, rumpled and suspicious and late. Mikasa raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her face.

“Where have you two been? You missed the garter toss,” Ymir nudges Historia conspiratorially.

“Just touring the grounds,” Eren answers coolly, pulling the empty chair beside Mikasa and offering it to you. You sit, grateful to be off of your shaking legs.

“It’s so beautiful here, thanks for putting us all up…” you accept the glass of wine Armin is offering over your shoulder, tipping it in the happy couples’ direction. Historia murmurs a quiet ‘you’re welcome’, the entire table exchanging knowing glances. You scowl, being left out of a joke is one of your pet peeves. “What?”

Jean grins lewdly. “Nothing, just…I don’t think Eren’s room is as far from the main house as you two think it is.”

[ghastlyfilters]

SPEAK SOFTLY LOVE

— “WE’RE IN A WORLD, OUR VERY OWN. SHARING A LOVE THAT ONLY FEW HAVE EVER KNOWN.”

pairing; post spray jeremiah valeska x fem!reader

summary; jeremiah takes you to see the first part of one of his favourite film franchises of all time. the godfather. and when you return from seeing such a cinematic masterpiece, jeremiah decides to dance with you to one of the songs from it.

note; HII!! i can’t even explain how excited i am to be writing this. i love the godfather and gotham, so i’m glad the thought came to me. nothing wrong with appreciating my love for both jeremiah valeska and michael corleone;)

also, here’s some of the italian words used in this fic, and what they mean! (if these ain’t accurate just blame google translate)

non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro. - you never fail to look radiant, darling.

grazie - thank you.

MASTERLIST

You and Jeremiah panted as you had ran back in the rain to the entry of his hideout. Tonight he’d took you to see one of his favourite cinema classics. The Godfather.

He’d had this planned for AGES. Years even. He knew one day he wanted to share with you the joy he felt in watching such an amazing cinematic masterpiece. And today, he had successfully got what he wanted.

There was tons of abandoned theatres scattered throughout Gotham. But Jeremiah didn’t want to take you somewhere shabby and wrecked. No.

He’d taken you to Gotham’s oldest theatre. A building that had been stood even before the very first time The Godfather came to cinemas. It was high class, and full of money people at all times. The theatre was known for showing tons of classics. So tonight was Jeremiah’s lucky night.

He’d made sure he booked out the whole screening. He didn’t want a soul interrupting any moment he was planning on enjoying with you. Only thing was that because of how high class the theatre was, it would cost a shit load to buy tickets, let alone the whole thing.

Jeremiah made sure the owner knew that money wasn’t everything. Well.. after holding a blade to his throat.

The whole thing went smoothly. And you’d never seen him so happy. He looked more like an excited child rather than a grown man thrilled to see the most loved mafia movie on the big screen.

As the heels of his shoes tapped against the flooring, you heard him softly hum the Godfather waltz. And he did so with nothing but pride.

You sat on the couch, your fingers slowly tracing circles onto the beautiful fabric. Jeremiah always had ways of making you feel so expensive.

“A glass of Chianti, darling?” He called out.

You looked back and nodded as he swiftly poured the Italian wine into a tall crystal glass for you.

Jeremiah carefully strutted over to you, two glasses in his hands. He placed one down in front of you, giving you a kiss on the hand.

“I must say,” He said, sitting down beside you, already motioning for you to move closer. “My expectations for this night with you were perfectly met, my dear.”

Jeremiah put a gloved finger on your cheek, and you practically purred at his touch. He held your waist as you moved into his lap, grinning.

“I suppose now I see why you always used to be so persistent on having that slicked back hair, Don Valeska.” You mocked. You’d known for years Jeremiah took a deep liking to Michael Corleone’s character. You couldn’t blame him, of course. Michael and Jeremiah both shared a great charm.

He rolled his eyes playfully, taking a sip of his wine. He let out a small gasp as an idea struck him. And you furrowed your brows the minute he took you off his lap.

“Miah?” You said, curiosity clear in your voice. He held a finger up, hurrying into another room. You just sighed, wondering what he was planning now.

Jeremiah soon returned, a vinyl in hand. He flashed you a smile, before darting over to the record player. He set it all up, and you started to giggle the minute the song started to play.

Speak Softly Love by Andy Williams. A song that included an instrumental theme used in The Godfather. Which had made the song a true gem to listen to.

He rushed back over to you, and you could see the amount of joy dancing around in his eyes despite the song only just starting.

“Shall we?” Jeremiah grinned, putting his hand out for you.

You accepted it, and he immediately pulled you up. Gracefully, but you could tell he was desperate to finally dance with you to this.

Speak softly, love and hold me warm against your heart..

I feel your words, the tender trembling moments start.

We're in a world, our very own..

Sharing a love that only few have ever known.

Another soft giggle escaped your lips as he directed you to sway around with him. You’d never admitted it, but Jeremiah was an incredible dancer. Always so careful with his partner.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

“Non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro.” Jeremiah whispered into your ear. God you loved when he spoke Italian.

“Grazie.” You replied, planting a kiss onto his cheek. However, he redirected your lips. He tilted your chin upward, and soon you felt his own velvety smooth lips brushing against yours.

He put one hand on the back of your head, caressing your hair. He pulled away as the rest of the lyrics played on the vinyl, and the two of you went back to swaying again.

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love, so softly love.

You both waltzed around the room as the strong instrumental part of the song really kicked in. You caught a glimpse of Jeremiah’s face glistening from the moonlit sky outside throughout Gotham.

You’d truly began to admire his new features now. His ghostly white face, red ruby lips, and those icy green eyes..

Some were scared, meanwhile others like his followers found it intriguing. But you.. oh.. you found it hauntingly beautiful.

His change in attitude was also something you were secretly enjoying. Before the spray, Jeremiah had been incredibly shy with showing you affection. His overthinking always crept in, giving him the hint that perhaps you did not feel the same way towards him as he did for you.

Now, he was incredibly bold whilst showing his love for you. And he wanted every single person in the city to see that.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

His gloved hands made their way down your body, cupping your hips. Jeremiah loved your curves. You were so womanly. And it was another part of you he’d always admired.

“This is…” He breathed. “Rather.. exhilarating.”

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love…

“It’s definitely-“

“A night to remember.” Jeremiah cut you off. You dipped down as he hovered above you, his grip tight. He bent toward you, kissing you once again.

So softly love.

THIS WAS LITERALLY SO FUN TO WRITE. either that or it’s the concept of mixing my two favourite interests together. but man i love jeremiah more than anything.

[thedansemacabres]

A Modern Understanding of Dionysus Hestios

Photo from a vineyard I worked on.

[ID: A close-up image of a Chardonnay white-wine grapevine with three clusters. The clusters are green with some red. Bright green leaves cover the top of the clusters, while below a black irrigation line is visible. The ground below is covered in woodchips, except for a single plant below the clusters].

HESTIOS IS A FUN YET OBSCURE EPITHET OF DIONYSUS.  We can infer some of its context due to Zeus Hestios, that being a protector of the home and hearth. This epithet of Dionysus is a favourite of mine—for my home and hearth, he is a household deity as I am a viticulturist and winemaker. My life and livelihood is partially bound by grapevines as I currently work at an orchard that is establishing a vineyard and my responsibility is to make it happen. 

The context of this epithet is little known beyond a passage in Pausanias’ iconic Description of Greece: 

Pausanias, Description of Greece 1. 2. 5 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) : "From the gate to the Kerameikos [in Athens] there are porticoes . . . containing shrines of gods, and a gymnasium called that of Hermes. In it is the house of Poulytion . . . [which] in my time it was devoted to the worship of Dionysos. This Dionysos they call Melpomenos (Minstrel) [i.e. of Melpomene, the muse of tragedy], on the same principle as they call Apollon Mousegetes (Leader of the Muses) . . . After the precinct of Apollon is a building that contains earthen ware images, Amphiktyon, king of Athens, Dionysos Hestios (Feasting or Of the Hearth) and other gods. Here also is Pegasos of Eleutherai, who introduced the god [Dionysos] to the Athenians. Herein he was helped by the oracle at Delphoi, which called to mind that the god once dwelt in Athens in the days of Ikarios."

Dionysus Hestios is mentioned in Athens, along with his myth of his devotee Pegasos bringing his cult to the city. Other than references to Zeus Hestios, I have not found any more context for this epithet beyond protecting the home/hearth. Therefore, this aspect of him will be a contender for a strong upg basis. 

In my times in wine, I’ve gathered my own gnosis of Dionysus Hestios. He is a protector of the hearth, but in my personal experience, the table wine aspect of Dionysus.

TABLE WINE IN THE MODERN WORLD

Table wine is named exactly for what it is, a wine that sits at your dinner table and a key part of a meal. Italy especially is famous for its cheap table wines, many of which I’ve had at my own tables and dinners. Most commercial wines these days are made to be drinkable on their own—while table wines are uncomfortable and harsh on the tongue. With food, they transform, turning these harsh and bitter wines into something truly enjoyable. It also makes the food taste better. For anyone unknowing, that’s why wine and food pairing is a thing. Unfortunately, the table wine market is slowly beginning to crumble—most modern wine drinkers enjoy more of a good tasting drink instead of a complement of one’s meal. If you have the chance, I recommend buying some and trying it in pairings—it’s a dying market, sadly, and one that has an ancient history behind it. 

While table wines slowly fade, there is always a place for them in our lives. I myself have fond memories of a terribly bitter wine being served at my family’s table, and while I hated the taste, I’ve come to fall in love with them in recent years. Dionysus Hestios as a god of the home is a god of table wine, the happy smiles and festive memories of people having their Chianti with some steak or pasta. It’s the thrill of a good food pairing, a decanter, and the hundred years history of people making wine for the common folk instead of just for the aristocrats and their “noble” grapes. 

Dionysus Hestios, Hearth warmer, master  Of your craft, joy becoming  Protect our heart and wine, Let us dance and joy,  Under your blessings  Of the woody grapevine. 

References

DIONYSUS CULT 1 - Ancient Greek Religion. (n.d.). https://www.theoi.com/Cult/DionysosCult.html

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 5

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

-----

“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses. 

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.” 

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!” 

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!” 

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?” 

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt. 

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.” 

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.” 

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time. 

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!” 

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!” 

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is. 

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else. 

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?” 

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!” 

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground. 

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial. 

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.” 

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench. 

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.” 

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell. 

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone. 

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly. 

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing. 

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise. 

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well. 

A good day indeed.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

Bit more John n' Cosima for you, you beautiful people! I'm really feeling inspired in my writing of late, so yeah, you get to enjoy lots of work flying out of the DDD press! :D

Words - 2,214

Warnings - Each part will be adult only content, from swearing to eventual smut and violence. Minors DNI.

Part IV - Beatitudine

Cosima Shelby. By night, when out on the town with her husband, she was the quintessential gangster’s wife. Furs, pearls, diamonds; the young woman simply oozed glamour as she dripped in luxury. By day, she was much removed from such an image. On holiday, she was even more casual.  

“Don’t you blame me if you get sore feet, Sima. Ain’t gonna be my fault.”  

He might have given her a soft warning over her lack of shoes, but seeing his wife so carefree as she walked the cobblestone side streets of Cortona, the little Tuscan village she had been born in twenty-three years ago that coming autumn, all John could do was smile. 

Her hair was pinned up, only a few strands floating free at the nape of her neck, her face smothered in olive oil. “What are ya, a fucking salad?” he’d laughed after catching her rubbing her face in the kitchen staple, Cosima insisting that it was marvellous for the skin.  

“Angelo, ciao!” she called, arriving at the tiny bistro she’d been raving about since they arrived the night before, the owner opening his arms and greeting her warmly. 

“Benventua, Cosima! Stai bene?” 

She beamed, “Si, si.” From the tiny bit of Italian John knew, he gathered that Angelo had welcomed her and asked after her health, joining them and being offered a hand by the tall, potbellied man who shook it warmly. “Angelo, this is John, my husband.” 

“Ahhh, she is a married woman now! Welcome, John! Let me bring my wife out to meet you. Hey, Lucia! Cosima is here!” Every summer since her birth, the Changretta’s had returned to their home village, the family known well in Cortona. They were then joined by a woman of radiant good looks, wrapping Cosima in her arms, greeting John with the same warmth before they were shown to a table out in the small courtyard at the rear of the establishment. 

He had decided that after having no honeymoon at all, not even a blissful, post-marriage period that could be considered as such, they’d have it now he and his new bride were finally in that state of sublime happiness. Who cared that it happened to be five months on? They’d set sail for Italy from Plymouth just over a week ago, after John had dropped the children off in Small Heath, all under Polly’s care for the month and a half he and Cosima would be away.  

Taking a menu, he looked down at it in pure puzzlement, looking at his wife for assistance. She covered his hand with hers, ordering for them both. “I ordered a few things we can share, and a bottle of the best Chianti you will ever drink. Remind me to come back before we leave so I can buy a few bottles to bring home.”  

He wasn’t much of a wine fan, not being particularly cultured, but he had to agree that upon taking a first sip, it was of incredible, full-bodied flavour. Relaxing in the sunshine, just him and his wife, he felt like a completely different person. He’d never been on holiday before, save a few weekends away at Brean and Skegness as a child. The beauty of Italy was something he had never experienced beyond listening to his wife speak of the place she held so dear, and being there, he could see why. 

“Should we retire out here one day?” 

His question out of complete thin air made her laugh softly, hardly able to imagine that far in the future. “I think that’d be lovely. Blooming hell, I can’t imagine us as a little old couple, shuffling around.” 

“I can,” he smiled, knitting his fingers together behind his head as he closed his eyes to the warm sunshine beaming onto his face. “You’ll be beautiful, still, and continue to throw plates at me an’ all, just much slower.”  

“I might have to move onto smaller things when my joints ache,” she mused, her smile widening her pretty lips. “Egg cups, saucers, things like that.”  

The laughter they shared filled the space, John reaching for her, pulling her onto his lap. “I dunno what it is about you. You’re like two different people, and I fucking love both of ‘em.”  

Her heart skipped like a newborn spring lamb. “You’ve never told me that before.”  

He arched an eyebrow, her heart somersaulting again at his male beauty. “Well, I’m telling you now. And I don’t need to hear you say it to me, either. Don’t feel like you have to.” 

“But I lo-" 

“Ah, ah! Nope!” 

“But John, I-” 

“Nope!” He cracked an eye open, grinning at her pinched-up lips, Cosima leaning in until her nose touched his. “Stop it.” 

“I love you, you dickhead.”  

“Charming, ain’t ya?” he snorted, still laughing.  

She shrugged. “I have my moments.” 

“Ar, ya do, bab. Charming, and with proper dirty feet, too.” He reached down her leg, grabbing her ankle and examining the sole of her foot. “Look at ‘em! Blacker than a coal miner’s arse!”  

“I plan on having a bath once we get back, I’ll have you know. That tub is huge, too. Easily big enough for two.”  

Her wink had him laughing. “Gonna see how much water we can splash out onto the floor?” She nodded enthusiastically, leaning to kiss him. He eventually put her down, their food brought out shortly after, both very contently full as they strolled back to the guest house they were staying in for the near complete duration of their holiday.  

For the last week, they were travelling to Rome, but the three preceding it were being spent in the quiet surroundings of the small lake house set at the foot of the hills, the people who owned it living at the main residence and letting them come and go as they pleased.  

“Give us one of them mucky hooves, then,” John spoke, sitting at the opposing end of the big, claw footed bathtub, objecting the smell of the lavender bath salts Cosima had sprinkled in very liberally, but not the fact he got to share the hot water with her.  

He received a heel to the chest for his remark, snorting laughing at the look on her face as she sat mildly aghast. “Hooves, John? I have beautiful feet, I keep them all nice and soft, toenails always painted, too.”  

“I know, I’ve seen all the bits of dead skin you leave all over the pumice, you mucky wench.” Her other foot found its way between his legs, John shifting back. “Oi, less of your violence, woman. I’ve got plans for where I’m gonna put that.” he winked, Cosima bobbing her tongue out as her foot retreated from its press against his cock, John lathering the soap in his hands. “So, did your mom and dad mean for you to be born out here? Wanting the kids to all be Italian by birth, was it?” 

“That’s exactly it, yes,” she began, finger combing her hair idly. “Only Luca and I are, though. Angel came earlier than expected, so he was a baby in arms already when he took his first breath of homeland air. Papa always said he wanted us to be all born in the same place, but wasn’t too sad that Angel was born in England. He was just glad he survived, coming a month early.”  

He noticed that over the last few months, he could speak of her family and not notice the dark storm of contemptuous fury begin swirling within her. Simply, there was none left, or if there was, she was doing well to hide it. He did hope it was the former. “I know that worry,” he spoke, working the soap suds between her dainty toes, the deep red polish flawless. “Oliver was five weeks early, fucking tiny little thing, he was. Bloody made up for it in noise ever since, though.”  

“Hasn’t he just,” she beamed, thinking of the absolute chaos that was her eldest stepchild. “I’m not going to say I don’t miss him and his siblings, but blinking hell, I love the quiet!” 

John laughed, picking up the cutthroat razor to the side of the tub and nodding at her leg.  

“Promise you won’t cut me?” she asked, watching her husband frown comically. 

“Do it every day to me own face, darlin’. Ain’t gonna even nick the skin.” Taking the soap again, he lathered her leg while resting her foot on his shoulder, slowly gliding the blade against the short hair regrowth. “I wonder what our kids’ll be like,” he mused, rinsing the razor. “It’d be nice if the first one was conceived over here, eh?”  

“Feisty, I predict, if our temperaments are anything to go by.” 

He snorted softly. “You’re worse than me.” Immediately she scowled, John placing a loving kiss against the side of her foot.  

“And you’re a fucking wind-up merchant!” she attested, watching as he rinsed her leg and then started the routine again on the left one.  

“Ahh, ya wouldn’t love me if I didn’t have a bit of bite.” he remarked, snapping his teeth at her, hands working the soap over her leg. That was true enough, she thought. A boring, placid man was not for her. She quite enjoyed that his spark matched hers in illumination. Once he was finished returning her legs to silky smooth glory, he made his intention to be between them very clear, her hands travelling over the lithe muscles that flexed across his shoulders as he caught her lips in a kiss. 

If there was a better way to spend the late afternoon, she was yet to hear it.  

Their kisses swirled slow like honey, steam rising in the figurative and literal all around them, John feeling his skin break out into goose pimples at the pattered exploration of her fingertips. Deep groans rumbled his throat when she moved her kisses to the side of his neck, a soft bite eliciting a shiver, his hand moving between her legs to stroke until she was purring with desire.  

Reaching beneath her, he lifted her body, sitting back on his heels, bouncing her on his cock, hands grasping her shoulders before smoothing down her back sensually, sharing kisses gilded in embers and sugar, feeling drunk on her.   

“God, you feel so fucking good,” she moaned, her head tipping back, his lips gliding torridly over her throat. “I love you.”   

Despite telling her he didn’t require her to say it back, John knew in that moment he’d never tire of it, hearing his beautiful wife declare her love for him. “I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” His words punctuated her fluttered gasps as the head of his cock scraped deliciously against her sweet spots, rutting her deep, hands running down her slender back. 

The rise and fall of their bodies was akin the cresting of gentle waves upon a sea, Cosima absolutely blown away by the intimacy, the divinity of it. This was the kind of sex she thought only existed in novels, too perfectly passionate to extend to reality, her reality too, no less.   

How could he be this perfect? And to think, she had once hated him with the kind of torridness that was now only reserved for how he made her feel when he was balls deep inside of her. The all-encompassing heat of him and the moment they shared shook her to her very foundations, her bones sizzling in utter ecstasy as she rocked against him, his strong hands stroking paths of sweeping tingles over her soft skin. 

Her walls throbbed with the sweetest flush of pleasure, his cock evoking swells of molten bliss, Cosima grinding down on him faster, her nerves in symphony, the sounds of her bum pounding off his thighs filling the bathroom. 

“Right, gotta get outta this bath, love,” he spoke, clutching her tightly in his arms. “Bloody foot is going to sleep!” Tightening his arms around her, he stood up from the water, carefully climbing out of the tub and carrying her to the wall. It was a favourite of his, standing up sex, reminding him of the first time he’d had her like that back in the kitchen of their cottage.  

John Shelby; he truly was all about the nostalgia. 

Winding his arms beneath her thighs, he grasped her bum to keep her spread as he began to roll his hips against her, every last inch of his cock slipping into the sumptuous, saturated hug of her cunt, but slow. So slow. 

Each thrust had ecstasy sizzling through her veins, her cries feral, the physical of what she felt demonstrated by her nails imbedding in his back, tearing down, leaving raspberry swellings across his pale freckle-flecked skin, John thriving on her reaction to the sublimity of his fuck. 

It felt sharp-edged as it gathered within her, the coil tightening before it snapped, consuming bliss throbbing through her entire body as he spilled into her deeply, grunting with exertion, the culmination a sweep of liquid velvet pouring through them, ebbing away slowly, leaving them shattered, yet dreamy with satisfaction.   

Not that either could know it so soon, but it also left them parents to a brand-new Shelby, too. 

[subby-sab]

Today is 1st of September.

Today is National Chianti Day, National Lazy Mom's Day.

[thestalwartheart]

May I ask for 00q and a 💛 please

Hello my friend! Thank you for the prompt. This was such a lovely one to fill.

You can read the fill below or on AO3. 💛

After a weapons test goes wrong in Q Branch, Bond spends a moment dancing with regret.

relief.

One minute and seventeen seconds.

James Bond has lived through a lot. He’s lived through seconds that felt like years and years that felt like fleeting moments. He’s seen people suffer. He’s seen plenty of people die; killed some of them for duty, and loved others to their death.

So, a minute should be nothing. He’s held his breath for longer.

“Q.” With the hand that isn’t holding his jacket to the wound at Q’s head, he cradles Q’s chin. Blood slicks the path of his fingers, then sticks.

“Medical team are two minutes away,” says someone. Not Tanner. Not anyone useful.

“Tell them to hurry up. They can take the bloody stairs if they have to.”

Two minutes. Christ, Bond's only been here on the floor for one.

He strokes his thumb over Q’s mouth. His lips are blood red now, stained from Bond’s messy hands. They’re a grotesque mockery of their usual cherry red, that colour for which Bond has never found an equal.

“Come on, Q. Wake up.”

There’s a pulse at Q's neck. That’s positive. Breath, too. Even better. All good signs. None of them do much to quell the frightful adrenaline in Bond’s bones. It’s been there since he saw Q land badly after his fall. No, not a fall. The body-flattening shock from the blast which—

“What the hell happened to proper safety regulations?” Bond barks. The techs around him flinch, but he doesn’t spare them another thought.

Under his thumb, Q’s lips are moving.

“Since when were you an expert on health and safety, 007?” A warm puff of laughter comes from his lips, and Bond doesn’t waste another second.

The kiss tastes like blood and cordite, and Bond’s own blood rushes to his ears. His pulse is on his tongue.

This wasn’t how it was meant to go, not with Q. He was meant to take Q out to dinner, wine and dine him, and see him in a proper suit. There didn’t seem a man in the world more in need of sweeping off his feet than Q, and Bond had intended to rise to the occasion. But as always, as always, the universe sought to remind him there just wasn’t enough bloody time for all the things in the world he wanted. There was only time for this. This kiss. This moment, holding Q's bloodied face in his hands on the debris-littered, dusty floor of Q Branch.

Q hums into his mouth, then winces.

Bond pulls back. “All right?”

“Mm. If I’d have known on our last field mission together that this was all it would take…”

Bond remembers his and Q’s last mission well. It was three weeks ago now, though it may as well be a lifetime. They’d spent days under the bright, arid haze of Rome’s summer sun, where Bond had, for once in his life, turned down a blatant invitation to sleep with someone with no strings attached. Because Q wasn’t just anyone. And Bond was, frankly, finished with starting things under a hail of bullets that were only doomed to fail.

Regret settles under his skin now. He wishes he’d given into the delicate warmth of Q’s hand on his knee. They could have kissed at sunset with the Colosseum to their backs. He could have watched Q drink his fill of Chianti under the stars. Everyone believes Paris is the city of love, but Bond has always preferred Rome. Vesper once joked it was the memory of all those strapping Roman soldiers.

Gently, Bond strokes his fingers through the dusty, greasy, sweaty mess of Q’s hair. Unbelievably, it still looks intentionally styled. “Don’t. I didn’t want—you deserved more.”

“Oh,” croaks Q. “To hell with what we deserve.”

With a weak fist, Q grabs Bond’s blazer and brings him down for another kiss. And this time, Bond doesn’t wonder about the paths not taken. He sighs and kisses Q back. Q will live a long life if Bond has anything to say about it, but if they only have a minute left together, then Bond knows how he wants to spend it:

With love rather than regret.

[nazrigar]

Personal Halloween Character Design Challenge - Slashertown

Time to reveal what I've been doing for Halloween/Spooktober!

Basically a personal character design challenge, inspired by my Tiger vs Slasher Villain post!

The gist is that it's set in a town that's basically a magnet for various kinds of horror villain archetypes, ESPECIALLY Slashers... hence its Name.

The Leads: The main protags of the challenge/setting.

Linda Rivera - A young woman of Spanish-American descent, known equally for both her stubborness and her empathy, and a strong, strong survival instinct. She's the been the "Final Girl" for most of her life, be it as a survivor of a literal cult war when she was a kid to Prom night when she was a teen. She cosplays and paints minis for a living, and is genuinely curious about what's REALLY going on in Slashertown.

Rodney "The Ripper" Rackham. Filling in for the unstoppable masked slasher villain ala Jason and Michael Myers, Rodney was once just a humble shop student with an interest in metallurgy and blacksmithing, until one day a trip to the woods went terribly wrong. For years he was the town's most famous slasher, targeting repairshops and others indiscriminately... nowadays he's more famous for another thing -killing other slashers.

Animal Companions: Filling in for the Animal guide/voice of wisdom, ala Coraline

Peggy Thirteen is Linda's cat. A crafty and wiley critter than seems to know just about every nook and cranny in town. Unusually intelligent for a cat, and remarkably obedient when Linda says to "stay put". There's more to her than meets the eye, as shown with her smug face.

Maharaja is the town celebrity Tiger, having been the one to save Linda from a slasher known as "Henry the Hatchet" a few years ago. Unbelievably strong, and much like Peggy, seems to be far more intelligent than what a big cat should be. Linda certainly suspects something.

Cannibal Archetypes: Self explanatory

Marlowe Magritte: Filling in for the Hannibal Lecter side of the cannibal villain, with a dash of Slowik from The Menu, he's the owner of the most famous restaurant in town. His food is to die for, as certain patrons disappeared in his business, just infrequent enough that no one suspects anything. Sure, while having liver with a nice chianti is nice, what he's REALLY after are memories and experiences. THAT to him, is what makes a true experience.

Merle "The Man Ogre" Mason: The Hills have Eyes meets Leatherface, Merle was a man exposed to chemicals during the end of World War 2 and became a mutant... THEN the magics of the town turned him into a cannibalistic monster, lurking about the hills just outside of town. Suprisingly articulate despite his looks!

Lethal Ladies: Because one can never go wrong with more female slasher villains!

Heather Berry lost her mind when she couldn't be Queen of High School Land, and thus took it out on some students, before mysteriously dissapearing after a fight with eternal Final Girl Linda. Now she's back, as Haley Babbit, successful business women with great PR... but beneath the facade, is still the same bloodthirsty Heather!

Liv Malone - SHE FOLLOWS. Slowly. Very slowly. Sure, she's completely unrelenting in her need to dispatch someone, but man oh-man is she SLOW. A simple shove is usually all that's needed to stop her from following you.

Killer Clowns: And this time, they're a family!

Marco the Clown and Minnie the Mime are a brother sister team that only wants to entertain you with their (occasionally lethal) shows! Please laugh at Marco's jokes and take Minnie's Art seriously, they get uspet if you don't!

Jethro the Jester is their grandfather, and leader of the group, simply known as The Troupe. One of the most powerful entities in town, his shows and acts seem to defy physics itself, and he'll always make sure that you leave the show a new person!

Terrible Toys: Three different flavors of violent toy!

Tricky the Ragdoll - Guardian of all children in town, much like Gamera, just one that's VERY open to lethal force when he sees a kid in trouble. Is actually quite helpful to them, no strings (ha!) attatched, offering blankets, food and subtly guiding kids to reunite with their parents if they ever get lost.

Mrs. Olivia - An overpossessive ghost of a woman from the 40s stuck in a porcelain doll. She'll do ANYTHING to protect her "poppets". ANYTHING. She is awoken whenever someone cleans up her toy body.

The Immolator - The most overtly Chucky-like of the bunch, with a dash of Small Soldiers. A psychotic, misanthropic inmate that winded up possessing the toy of a 90s action figure, he'll be more than happy to murder any meatbags in his sights... so long as he has batteries. The REAL danger is that, when dormant, he can imitate ANY voice possible, subtly suggesting you to really, REALLY give him those batteries!

Oceanic Killers: Because you gotta have a Jaws reference!

Big Bertha and Finn are a Great White Shark and Dolphin duo, that work together to un-alive silly and stupid hairless apes. Big Bertha LOVES the taste of humans, and would go out of her way to find 'em, but usually it's Finn that calls the shots. Any human that bothers him or makes fun of him, either gets a taste of his rostrum, or he sends Bertha to do the dirty work.

Primeval Horrors: Because everything's better with dinosaurs!

The Great One and his Flock: Combining both Jurassic Park and Hitchcock's the Birds, the Great One is a colossal, fifteen ton Tyrannosaurus rex, and is the oldest entity in town, and by far one of the most powerful. So powerful, that no slasher dares to enter his territory (which is the Slashertown Museum of Natural History). The birds of Slashertown are his eyes and ears, agents of his will, and those that mess with 'em don't tend to live to see the next sunrise. It's also a foolish thing to lay a hand on his skeleton, as the paleontologists who worship him like a god like to remind visitors. All those that have done so, either disappear (with the only remains being bloodied claw marks) or become skeletons stripped down to the bone.

[rileyslibrary]

Living With Ghosts: 4. Pretty Broken

His body stands straight, but his mind betrays him. He still wears his gun around his left shoulder. It looks too heavy for him now, just like his conscience.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,150

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions of blood and war

As much as I like Ghost’s demeanor throughout the game, I cannot help but wonder what he would be like suffering the aftereffects of war.

Entire work on AO3

Table of Contents

———————————————————————

It’s been days since you last talked to him.

His inattentiveness, however, was not the outcome of your petty little brawl—not the direct consequence, at least. If you had to venture a guess, it’s because he was busy with other matters at the moment—far more important ones.

The Russian Mafia appears to have increased its presence in the region over the past week, raising suspicions of a potential terrorist attack. As a result, the CIA has requested high readiness from the Special Forces operators deployed in the area.

That’s where he is, you fool. It doesn’t matter how abandoned, lonely, or insecure you feel, for he had a job to do. He was right there, at the front line, risking his life for the nation’s—and probably the world’s—safety. You were the last thing on his mind right now; if you ever were anything to him but a mild inconvenience.

Let’s not forget that you also had a part to play in this operation; to actively scan land, air, and sea for irregular traffic and report to the CIA.

Well, not actively, per se—the safe house has a well-equipped wine cellar for that specific purpose.

“Surveillance Control Center,” they call it—SCC for short.

What was once used to store ruby-red Chianti Classico Riserva bottles can now be confused with the cockpit of a spaceship. The CIA engineers have outdone themselves with this one—you give them that.

The SCC is part of a computer network connecting every CIA safe house in the Mediterranean. It incorporates CCTV monitors, cameras, radars, and motion sensors designed to detect unusual movements in the region. Live-streaming feeds are processed using highly sophisticated software, which, upon catching unusual traffic, alerts the SCC’s terminal. The wine cellar also houses an arsenal of weapons and ammunition, just in case the shit hits the fan.

Your job, for now, is to oversee the SCC’s flawless operation and inform Laswell of any findings.

Boring; that’s what your job was. Boring.

“Christmas is coming,” Laswell’s voice sounded over the telephone, “You guys should do something to celebrate.”

“Do what, exactly, Kate? Go from house to house and sing carols on behalf of the CIA?” You reply, leaning forward as if you were trying to physically get your point across.

“If you’d stop being a sarcastic shit, then perhaps you could think a little better.” Her irritation rasped in her voice. “Do something together; think of it as a team-building event.”

He said he’d fix that attitude of yours; when was that team-building event going to take place?

She was right, though—as much as you’d hate to admit it. Christmas does bring people together.

You begin to reminisce about the good times back home when your family used to celebrate every year. You used to cook together, sing along to festive songs, watch Mr. Bean on television, and exchange gifts.

You remember your mother, who refrained from buying ornaments from the shops. She used to bake them instead—yes, bake them. She used to roll out the dough, give shape to it with cookie cutters and bake the ornaments so you would all decorate the Christmas tree with them. The entire house smelled divine with these four little ingredients she used in her recipe—cinnamon, salt, flour, and water.

Ingredients you already had in your pantry.

“Laswell, when’s my shift ending?” you asked in anticipation.

“It ended thirty-seven minutes ago. Tired of me?”

“I thought of something.” You announce, sitting on the edge of your seat.

“Wha-”

“I have to go. Over and out.” You report as you close the comms and head upstairs to the infamous pantry.

Cinnamon, salt, flour, and water.

You were determined to make it work, right here, in this safe house—with or without Ghost.

You hurried outside, scanning the area for the tree branches he trimmed a few weeks ago. If you tie them together, you could create something resembling a Christmas tree.

When was the last time he felt the Christmas spirit? Does he have a Christmas tree at his house? A family to sing together next to the fireplace? A warm, festive meal?

You moved frantically—part Christmas elf rolling out dough and baking ornaments, part Frankenstein trying to assemble a Christmas tree monstrosity.

Time flew by; hours passed like minutes as you worked hard, your creativity unleashed, putting forth your best effort to create something out of nothing.

To create festive decor out of raw ingredients.

To construct a tree out of stray branches.

To form a connection out of two peoples’ broken pieces.

“What’s that smell?”

You were so focused that you didn’t notice him standing behind you.

You turn around to see a wreck, the fragments of a man who has probably seen terrible things and done far worse.

“I—is everything all right?” You hesitate.

“Out of trouble, for now.” He replies.

His body stands straight, but his mind betrays him. He still wears his gun around his left shoulder. It looks too heavy for him now, just like his conscience.

“Yes, I know. I spoke with Laswell. I mean, are you all right?”

“Been better.”

His uniform is dusty, and his boots are covered in mud. There is a slight rip on his balaclava, teasing you with a subtle view of his jawline, like a Geisha exposing her nape.

“It’s over, for now.” you try to comfort him.

There’s blood on his left sleeve—a lot of blood. He just became aware of it as well.

“Not mine.” He announces and hides it behind his back. “What’s that smell?” He repeats, trying to avoid the conversation.

“Cinnamon.”

“Ya bakin’?” He seems shocked.

“Sort of; They’re ornaments for the Christmas tree,” you say, pointing in the direction of your most recent creation.

“A Christmas tree.” He stutters, glazed eyes darting left and right, assessing the new environment.

You want to tell him that there are no booby traps here, nothing dangerous to be careful of. You want to console him that there is no need to be alerted for an ambush here, for this is a safe space. No more killing, no more death, for now. Just you two, a hideous Christmas tree, and badly shaped cinnamon-baked ornaments.

“Do you like them?” You ask reluctantly, trying to divert his attention from this week’s horrors. “I couldn’t find any cookie cutters, so I shaped them with a knife instead. I tried to make them look pretty, but some came out broken.”

“Aren’t we all?” he mumbles as he walks towards the Christmas tree.

“Aren’t we all exactly what, lieutenant—pretty or broken?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Pretty broken, kid,” he whispers as he picks up a shattered ornament. “Pretty damn broken.”

———————————————————————

Next ->

[cleromancy]

jasons got so much black and white thinking at times like. if Bruce can't do this for me he never loved me. if Bruce never loved me i am unlovable. if im unlovable i might as well be hated for something ive done instead of something i am...

its that last one thats the only thing that really keeps me firmly in camp shrodingers felipe... like i vehemently disagree that jason having done it is like "proof" he was ~already bad~ or ~too damaged~ or whatever the fuck dumbshit. like morally speaking jason weighed this mans life over the life of his next victim and made a choice and while you don't have to agree with him, or judy koslosky for that matter (batman 422, jason goes on to paraphrase her in lost days)... like, come on. it was explicit that the law and batman couldn't touch him, he bragged he was gonna do it again, jasons options as presented to him were "let him" or "kill him".

but the reason i continue to like the ambiguity there about whether or not jason did kill the guy is because bruces reaction... i mean my god, compare and contrast ollies reaction when 16-year-old *mia* thought she had to kill someone while ollie visibly disagreed-- ga 39:

ga 40:

^ btw this is also one reason OF MANY why i kill and eat anyone who compares ollie negatively to bruce. fava beans nice chianti etcetera etcetera

(dinah also reams him out about it more in this same issue while they're breaking up. read green arrow 2001 🔫)

anyway. fuckin buce by contrast

batman (1940) 424

batman 425

just to start. (ditf starts at issue 426 btw.) (also god starlin is such a hack. Bruce directly causes the deaths of 3 people in 425-- two by jumping out of the way of gunfire so they hit each other, one by accidentally knocking over an unstable pile of cars. but sure, Jason's the one who can't handle it.)

anyway. all this just to say that if jason truly did not kill felipe but bruce believed he did and that leads directly to him feeling so unloved that he runs away to find his birth mom and yknow. gets murdered bc she sold him out bc, from his perspective, *she* also found him unlovable...

jason todd should have killed more people 🤷