#people who might more usually instead ignore them grabbing on to the both of them for entertainment. little a bullying haha whee

[unproduciblesmackdown]

tayston au where they're coworkers Somewhere Else that's not like the ideal dream job in theory for either of them, nor in practice, where there's still typical nonsense & the [genderdivergent / neurononconforming handshake] is no less relevant, just like In Real Life. elements simplified &/or amplified by taylor not having any especial rank or power, along the lines of how things presumably would've gone as [premise of having been Just Some Intern until getting mentorship & promotions that made it more relevant to stay a while]. they and winston maybe distantly know Of each other just via working in whatever same physical space, & this is how they both know most other coworkers; they mostly interact with who they interact with for official work purposes, they both keep busy enough, they're both othered by what workplace socializing is going on, with plenty of [shared negative opinion] embraced by people & thus both of them as the targets of that being Not embraced. gd & nnc handshake as stated

so, thinking of them both at some General Coworkers Mostly Informal Event at a bar or something of the sort, like, an End Of The Year thing, end of the [ways specific workplaces divide up time for whatever business events. quarters. some other regular event of Assessment] or any other companywide deal that could spur some peak Across The Board "we're going out, theoretically everyone's invited" and of course both winston and taylor happen to actually go. maybe there are preexisting (also mostly informal) traditions here, maybe there's people just making shit up on the spot (perhaps pretending they're preexisting traditions. winston & taylor not having worked there a full year or anything. or maybe one or both of them has, but hasn't shown up for this perhaps annual deal before. etc) but some "playing with [someone othered] for entertainment" organically crops up around winston where the people involved also spontaneously bring taylor into it as accessory, someone they wouldn't involve as getting to be "in on it." lot of flexibility here but what i've landed on after rotating & jostling ideas is roughly like: people very loosely like expressing a celebratory nature to the event via (again perhaps an actual informal preexisting tradition, perhaps being invented just now while perhaps pretending otherwise, or not) like Awards / Honors / Recognitions being doled out to some specific employees. maybe starts out somewhat rooted in more formal things, hooray for someone's recentish birthday, hooray for someone's preexisting formal recognition for whatever work achievement, then branches off into like haha hooray for [person] for [inside joke about some event ya just had to be there for! / other work wins of increasing informality/jokiness] where that jocularity can easily transition into Using this autistic coworker who's never in the In Group as a joke, of course, while maintaining ambiguity to opacity / Deniability about how the figurative arm slung around His shoulder is not actual inclusion like it is for other people

e.g. set winston up like here's some Ironic Recognition that is ostensibly framed as a compliment directly or that the ribbing / insulting Is in fact totally amicable Inclusion just like it is when we do it to these other guys haha....taylor happens to be proximate enough to be spontaneously dragged into it with people exercising the same attitude of like, well they're an object to be toyed with momentarily for our entertainment just like winston is haha. like oh don't you agree with this compliment towards winston Or this insult, it'd amuse us either way. and an idea being this being dialed up enough for like little a [venturing into harassment] all around of like, perhaps: congratulations winston for us all agreeing you Win at being our office's most eligible bachelor haha XD you're soooo single X'D cue whatever transition into building on The Joke like and how amazing when you're, stifled laughter, you're the hottest person here also three cheers for that too....like a) winston like thee nerd amongst nerds, no matter where he works or what group he's in the [an autistic person...] is Sensed, just like in real life, b) being in the impossible position where ofc he's doomed from the start in being targeted by people who can & are ganging up on him here, him playing along while realizing it may all be at his expense = he loses, him pushing back = he loses, him at least at first accepting like oh people are being spontaneous & funny & friendly to me (such as with amicable ribbing truly equivalent to what other popular enough coworkers are getting) & not realizing it's actually different & disingenous & entirely At His Expense = he loses. but whatever his response at first like, it's Escalated by someone drawing taylor into it b/c they're sitting at the next table or walking by at that instant or coming up to the bar or something & it's like oh Hey, we were just giving winston his due as the sexiest motherfucker here, Do you agree & Wouldn't you make out with him. & this obvious escalation / unusual extension of the [figurative arm around winston's shoulder] that isn't happening with any of the other like more at all actually better-intentioned friendly [just messing with you] being like, making winston More uncomfortable (b/c even if he'd accepted the premise / given the benefit of the doubt to the premise / optimistically tried to believe the premise that it was genuinely well-intentioned up to this point, the "this is just pushed onto him" element inherent to it would not be fun for him) & thus yknow Definitely realizing that no matter the intentions like, this is just gonna be a bad time for him & isn't gonna result in being embraced / included in any way he wants here

also the incongruity in how winston sees taylor here, & how taylor sees winston, vs how whatever group of friends being assholes to both of them sees either of them. the Key Element that makes this "oh, autistic & trans handshake moment, tayston moment" at the core. taylor is experiencing someone just on a whim Also trying to like pick them up for a second & mess with them as a desk toy for one's own amusement, as it were, as the [taylor is out here indeed gender nonconforming even if this workplace isn't As ramped up Cis Agenda as canon's, they're also still Unusual enough in demeanor/comport/means of expression/communication & so forth as to get that "honorary" ableism (still just the same ableism) like how in canon ppl are basically calling both of the r word in different ways, degrees, at different points] like Joke's On Them too, we're Ironic in asking their input, they & winston can still only lose no matter how they respond, Their opinion on [Ideals of gender & sexuality? thus Desirability?] can only Deviate from correctness just as winston can only Deviate from correctness in this [in group]'s "opinion" (they have the Facts!) like hilarious if taylor, weirdo who we could also make fun of by how Undesirable they are, also rejects winston, or doesn't, which would also just be hilarious

meanwhile winston is like oh no this hot coworker being dragged into it :[ don't put them on the spot to either be like "ew god" about me Or else also only be playing along in this specific moment and context such that i'm flying too close to the sun with however seemingly positively they might interact with me, even a smile & a Yeah Nice, don't want them to go "lmfao. imagine. as if XD", don't want them to think he himself is In On giving them shit here....then taylor's obvious Lack Of Being Amused Too if not displeasure at some shitheads being like would you Not want all of that (winston) would you totally kiss him for $50, don't answer that $500, all the money in the world & you're the last people in the world then it'd be tempting right XD just etc suffering as the punchline of bullshit improv out here. to winston's compounding embarrassment at both a) realizing yeah this isn't Just amicable razzing, he's only "included" to the extent he's these people's entertainment, perhaps also picking up on the outright like [just being given shit] / contempt to it, & b) again like not wanting to now be involved in annoying the epic & definitely themself sexy mf coworker who is of course just set up to reject him in this moment & also now going forward....while taylor is also in turn is Seeing Winston in a different context than these others are & like recognizing his [winston's discomfited & withdrawing expressiveness] & just indeed that context of likewise suffering bullshit here

some kind of transition here, like, taylor makes some dry in turn ambiguous enough response about like, well yes i think out of everyone present i'd be most likely to make out with this particular person. b/c these shitheads don't confer especial worthiness to any of taylor's input either it's like ohhh shitttt reallyyyy do itttt XD and you know, tall order to then actually do it in this pretty hostile situation & knowing as much, but this is just a specificass What If vs [only outcome possible, in every au in every timeline] and like the added situation of like, taylor already has been aware of bullshit & nonsense & hostility & their not winning the popularity contest which matters, winston has been too, that neither of them are so committed to this particular job that they can't also both engage in some spontaneity here which could, in fact, include "eh yeah maybe i'll just quit after this. maybe this is me quitting"

taylor also of course not actually kissing winston here if he wasn't also into it. but this is a) mutual recognition of a kindred spirit, if even simply in [both being put into this damn situation / held in the same context by these other mfs] & b) winston is, in fact, flustered about immediate [!! they're hot!!] so yknow.

point is we get to the point of winston like, having this aside directly with taylor of like, embarrassed, flustered, being like "augh sorry :( you don't have to. this is just a joke to them" and taylor can be like "yeah i know and i know i'm also just a joke to them, but." and perhaps a little more of a transition into it like, the mutual question of "do You think i'm a joke" where it is of the essence that a) they both already realize that this person does, in fact, not, and b) this is just further confirmation and rather asking like, is this serious enough to you, do you understand i'm being serious enough. again not seriousness in Gravitas to ""play along"" and make out as effective strangers having a moment at a work function amidst hostile parties, but in sufficient earnestness in doing so. like no i'm not actually trying to agree / go along with any terms as laid out by these other people but yeah i'd have This moment of actual acceptance and recognition with you and it Can manifest as making out a bit, sure, and as a way to at all turn things around on this other party, if They play along, if they find they're actually about it at all, if they're just annoyed & drop the act, they lose a bit, even as again like, of course even if they choose some other route, do the "correct" thing and pwn winston, do what'd "win" and try to pwn him And everyone else here, they can't simply get that ultimate permanent victory (this is not billions canon, where they still couldn't do that anyways)

anyways they have their little exchange of recognition, reassurance like but i'm not messing with you, you're not messing with me, even as we're about to mess around(tm) a minute. they have an exchange of messing around and making out a minute. the "well while we're here, suffering bullshit, may as well get this much out of it / sure fuck it" factor can involve now also being [handshake] in like eh yeah think i might have to just quit after that, think that might've just been me quitting, b/c they can keep being Mostly Left Alone at work but this wouldn't really have made things any better, this wasn't either of their dream jobs in the forever career, this was all an Event marking some annual milestone like well i'm not dying to attend the next one either and i may as well peace out now anyways. and everyone might start just being assholes about it immediately and it's like yeah do you wanna get out of here, in the straightforward way, in the "i'd mess around with you further now sure, fuck it, by which i mean me/you, literally" way. Do So even if people are more like okay lol whatever yeah we'll be about as unfriendly as we were before, just a bit more now. be like lol we've actually never really talked, we can go to some other place and get food, hang out, chat too, exchange numbers and plan to at least be friends or allies in "now Ex coworkers lol" like it's sure a way to meet, it was sure relevant that we were just both immediately aware of there being this Understanding between us

bonus: add ben to this newfound companionship b/c he reaches out like "oh sorry you're quitting, yeah people sure can be assholes since i don't have to refrain from saying so to you as [people who also still work here]" or through some other means. or anyone else. billions au, the characters we like / could perhaps save just knowing each other any which way, Not only existing in [zero sum game] hellzone. where they can actually in fact like experience similar / equivalent shit in some ways But react in ways canon would never allow. What Ifs abound. this has been a possible "oh honey i'm a joke to them too" / "but that / this isn't just a joke to you is it" edition

[adarkandmagicalforest]

An Irritation

pairing: Otto Hightower/Targaryen reader (twin to Daemon)

warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut

contains: Explicit Smut, Hate Sex, BItter Sex, Cunnilingus, Brief Cock Warming

whenever her twin brother ended up inevitably irritating her in some way, she always had the same threat for him

'well, perhaps the lord hand might enjoy my company tonight'

until one day her threat becomes realized

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight, Part Nine, Epilogue

It normally got her what she wanted.

Just the threat alone had always been enough to rankle Daemon, his utter dislike of that cunt Otto Hightower and the thought of her going to him over either of her own brothers enough to bother him into submission, or, more usually, at least into compromise. 

But not today.

Today, her threat was treated with a mere bob of his brows and a daring look. "Do as you will, sister dear." Her twin replied. It seemed that she had used this threat one too many times, to the point that her brother no longer believed her capable of it at all.

But she was a dragon - and she would show him exactly what she could do.

So the ivory-haired princess turned her back on her brother, slamming the door behind her as she stormed off to locate the Hand of the King. She did not look back to see if Daemon had followed her - she knew he hadn't. But he would hear of her exploits soon enough, she would make it quite certain.

The small council chambers were empty, so she went to the Tower of the Hand next.

Sure enough, there were men guarding the door, men who opened the door for her after she demanded to be let inside. 

The Hand's chambers were decorated with emerald curtains and held a tower motif that the princess always thought was rather boring. But then, this did fit Otto to a tee, whom she always saw as an equally boring man whose singular desire was to linger with very powerful people. She and Daemon both found him to be a dour cunt, and had in the past (as well as to this day) made sport of infuriating him, as that was the only time he was interesting to them.

Otto Hightower had a rather dull look to him as well. He was tall, but not mountainous. His features were plain, but not so much as to be called ugly. And yet Viserys kept his uninteresting council and his uninteresting presence about him, despite the opportunities to choose any other. She thought it queer. Daemon thought it an insult.

"Princess." The Hand had been sitting in front of his hearth when she stormed in. He'd stood immediately at the sight of her, and she noticed that even while lounging in supposed relaxation, the man still wore his tight doublet and golden pin. He even still had his boots on. "By what reason do you force your way into my chambers?" He demanded of her, as if he had any authority.

The Princess turned her head to his guards. "Leave." She commanded them. 

They did, albeit with a large amount of hesitation – but she was their Princess, whom were they to argue?

"What is the meaning of this?" Otto repeated himself, quite irritated now and coming closer as if he might take her by her arm and drag her out.

If only he could be so daring, she thought with bemusement.

Instead of answering him, (his voice was a low, grating thing) she merely grabbed hold of the front of his doublet and yanked him down, ignoring his grunt of surprise even while her lips captured his in a silencing kiss.

His shock lasted enough time for her to pull him even more into the embrace, her lips dominating his until her tongue finally enterred his mouth, moving against his own hotly as his wiry beard tickled her. It was surprisingly pleasant, with him tasting of bitter tea and saltwater, the wrongness of it all lighting her lust all ablaze - at least until his hands gripped her biceps and he yanked himself away.

"What," Otto nearly growled, low, fury clashing in his eyes. "Do you think you are doing, Princess?" 

Finding his fury to be rather exciting, the dragon was not deterred. Her hands released his collar and instead went to the garnet-studded belt on her gown, making short work of it. "I'm sure you're familiar with the procedure, Otto." She said impishly, dropping the belt to the rug below them as her hands then went to the laces of her gown, vastly enjoying the way his face grew somewhat panicked as she did so.

"You will stop this!" He hissed, his hands reaching for her arms so as to stop her from dropping the red silk to the floor, but to do so he had to get close to her again, which the princess took full advantage of.

This time, when she kissed him she bit him as well - sinking her teeth into his lower lip, just hard enough to hurt, the boring old Hand nearly snarled back. But then, she had always angered him as Daemon had. It was him who had convinced Viserys to marry their brother off to another woman rather than her. It was Otto who had encouraged Viserys to wait to betroth her to a new man, one of good Valyrian stock. Corlys Velaryon's younger brother had been courting her for what felt like years now, but only from his spit of rock and far from court. But then, Vaemond bored her also. 

Otto's blood leaked from where her teeth had sunk in, like iron and salt, and she hummed with satisfaction at the taste, pressing herself firmly against his body as her hands continued their work on her dress. She'd done the hardest part before she had ever arrived in his chambers, and so when her dress fell, it was her naked body that was revealed, all pale milky flesh and pebbled nipples as the cool air washed over her. The only scraps left to her were her black stockings on her legs, embroidered with roaming red dragons around her thighs. She was an erotic sight, and even Otto Hightower could not deny such a fact. 

She felt the moment she got her way from him. It was in his sneer, in the raise of his lip she felt before suddenly his hands were on her waist, grasping her pretty body roughly as the typically quite boring man became even more interesting to her as he suddenly began devouring her.

The princess moaned as Otto yanked her backwards, towards his bedchamber she presumed, his kisses growing deeper and wetter as he hungrily moved against her. He was pulling her so roughly that her steps stumbled and dragged, and soon, he had all but lifted her up into his arms before carrying her to his bed.

"Is this what you came here for?" Otto demanded of her coarsely after dropping her onto the mattress, his shaking anger blowing out the pupils in his eyes and giving him the look of a mad dog. The princess found it rather an attractive look for him, especially coupled with the aggressive way he knelt over her. "You want to be treated this way? By me?" 

"Who else would I be, Otto?"  She asked with a toothy grin, propping herself up by her arms, spreading her pale thighs open to him as if she was a lovely dessert. From what she'd heard, she was one. 

Oh he was pissed beyond all belief, she thought with thrilled delight. She could feel the neediness spread within her, arousal making her cunt wet, so wet that she knew he could see it.

And when he had? 

That was the moment she saw his resolve truly break. The very sight was a fascinating one. 

And so, the previously quite boring man (and hers and Daemons largest detractor) knelt forward onto the bed and yanked her harshly by the back of her knees, spreading her legs wide and a bit painfully before he delved his face there. The touch felt punishing and delicious. His tongue was strong and forceful, though too unpracticed, but that was no matter when she gripped at his hair and began grinding against his mouth - his gruff moan made her gasp with pleasure as she felt it through her cunt.

Otto was better at serving as a tool than a practitioner of the craft. She knew how she wanted to be touched more intimately than he did, and she moved him by his hair in the way that she’d learned years ago that she liked most. A few times from Daemon, when she could stand his company. Once from Otto’s own son. Those memories made her soaking wet upon the Hand’s tongue, more erotic than they should have been while this man was between her legs. What would he think if he was to learn that his son had been where he was now, licking and sucking at her cunt? 

She could not help but moan breathlessly at the thought.

But it seemed he only had a certain amount of patience from her grip on his hair - soon enough, he was ripping himself away from her again, kissing her of his own volition now, the flavor of her core on his tongue, tart like wine. 

His urgency made her laugh - but that only seemed to anger him, as if her giggle was an insult. 

"Cease that at once," Otto demanded against her lips, his hands beginning to roam her again, their course grasping and painful and intense, only softening when they reached her breasts, though the way his thumb rubbed purposefully at her pink nipple made her arch her back and sigh with pleasure. "Do you enjoy that?" He asked gruffly, capturing her nipple between his knuckles, pulling at them. 

"I'd enjoy it far more if you kept on." She breathed, unable to keep her smirk away as his eyes flashed again. He was still fully dressed, but this did not bother her. She almost preferred it, rather enjoying the look of her naked body against his dark clothes and layers of fine wool. The fabric of his trousers rubbing against her inner thighs almost like the coarse body of Cannibal when she rode him.

Otto's hand kneaded at her small breasts, until her nipples were stiff and sensitive. "Pretty," He murmured quietly, the comment somehow sounding unkind. She wished he would have put his lips back to good work – she needed more from him. 

For once serving her eldest brother's comment of he being a fine and thoughtful servant (though if Viserys saw them now, this comment would be never spoken again – at best, Otto Hightower would lose his position and at worse, she’d be married off to him) the older man lodged his leg between her thighs, giving her something firm to grind against while he lowered himself to kiss her again, gentler than she expected, while his free hand reaching up to grasp her by the back of her neck. But soon his kiss was beginning to grow more hungry, especially when she grew tired of his softness and pushed herself forward demandingly, wanting him rough, wanting him cruel. 

The Hand did not fail her in this - his kiss soon broke away, moving against her neck where his coarse beard rubbed against her sensitive skin, his teeth joining against her flesh when she incessantly yanked on his body, looking for more. 

Soon, his hands were punishing, his thigh rocking against her cunt until she ached, her eagerness soaking through the fabric until she was sure it would stain. 

And then he bit her. A proper bite, not the grazing of his teeth against her neck as he had been. No, he bit her, hard, on her shoulder, as if to leave proof of their coupling marred on her skin - this made her gasp loudly and then for her laugh of surprised delight to follow. 

Then, the princess had enough. 

She was a dragon at heart, and if Otto wanted to ride her, then he would have to give an appropriate fight for it. 

It only took a single shove to put the Hand off course and a single push to put him on his back. And so she straddled him as she had once straddled Cannibal, her hands batting his away as she went for his trousers, undoing the laces with skilled fingers as she took in his enraged expression. But by the time he had thought to grasp for her again, she had already taken his cock in hand - not quite a tower, but long enough for her use. The Princess lifted herself up, rubbing the blunt head of his member against her before sinking down upon him in one strong motion. 

"Fuck fuck!" Otto grunted, an amusing thing from such a man who so rarely cursed. The last time she remembered, she had just broken one of her suitors fingers. The suitor had been too familiar and grabby, what did it matter if he was some fancy lord from Highgarden? If one wanted to ride a dragon, they had to be prepared to suffer what would happen to them should they fail. Otto had gruffly cursed her, accusing her of the same mercurial violence that Daemon had, not listening to a single word she said until Viserys had forced him to listen to the truth. And now here he was, between her thighs as she grasped at his hands, leading one between her legs, where she had his cock deep inside of her. 

"Do you know how I claimed Cannibal, Otto?" The princess asked him suddenly, her voice airy with pleasure as she moved, pressing his hand against her so she might grind her clit against it, the ecstasy dazzling. 

"I - no, princess." The older man seemed to be having trouble paying much attention to her words, his eyes were traveling sharply from where the base of his cock was being revealed, soaking wet, whenever his princess lifted her hips as she moved - and then to her face, as was polite when speaking to a member of the royal family, whom Otto had always desired to suck at the teat of. 

"I was naught but a young girl at the time." She explained, moving herself faster now, leaning forward and putting her hand against his shoulder to brace herself as she spread her knees. This gave her more power to fuck herself on his cock, a thing that made Otto's hand reach up to grasp her by her nape, as if he could keep her locked in place. "At Dragonstone, he was the most vicious of dragons. The most hungry - and the flesh he craved most of all was that of other dragons." A moan stopped her then, as she found that spot inside herself, that deep rooted ache that she knew would send her to her peak.

"A dangerous, violent creature. He is well suited to you, princess." Otto commented with no lack of difficulty as he thrust upwards to her, attempting to fuck her rather than be fucked himself. His voice was dark and heady, a well-suited change in her opinion, but she would not allow him the pleasure of riding her, not yet. She hadn't finished her story.

"I went to the caves of the volcano f-first." She breathed, stuttering when the Hand's hand decided to make her story as hard to tell as it was for him to listen to, his deft thumb rubbing harshly over her delicate folds, toying with her clit until he found a motion that pleasured her to the point of trembling. She must give this to Otto Hightower - once he found something that worked, he did not cease nor change his tune. "I... I went with a wheelbarrow full of meat, goats,  cattle and little cakes from the castle kitchens... I even burnt them first." 

She had to close her eyes then, her hand forming a fist against his doublet as she felt herself grow closer and closer to a peak. "And then he came from behind me.. I hadn't noticed him, he was a fright." 

"And he chose you." Otto said, his voice regaining some decorum even balls deep in her, as she'd stopped rocking now. His cock was merely being kept nice and warm inside her cunt while his fingers made her burn hot and wet. 

"By the time I had climbed upon his back, the wheelbarrow was empty and my Cannibal had a new rider... Nyke ivestretan zirȳla naejot dohaeragon issa, naejot rȳbagon naejot issa se ziry gōntan. Issa merbugon valonqar iksos nēdenka, sīr olvie sīr bona ziry daor sagon ōregion isse se zaldrīzes ripo. Jāhor ao dohaeragon se rȳbagon naejot issa hae issa zaldrīzes, Otto?" I told him to serve me, to listen to me and he did. My Cannibal is fierce, so much so that he cannot be held in the Dragon pit. Will you serve and listen to me as my dragon has, Otto?

Her use of High Valyrian fell upon non-understanding ears, but her coy rumble of the foreign language appeared to create a fierce desire in Otto.

As suddenly, he had enough toying - he hated Valyrian. Hated that the royal family could converse in a way that he could not know, even in the same room as he was. That they were above him, that they were more than a common people as he was. Their language was another way they became otherworldly. And the Hand craved this otherworldliness, craved their power, craved their dragons and fire - and now, it seemed he had a craving for her too, as much as he also resented her.

Because then as she had done to him, Otto grabbed onto her hips roughly, his fingers digging into her in a way that would surely leave bruises upon her flesh, and he shoved his cock inside of her again with a single motion - her legs wrapped around his waist, her black stocking-covered limbs digging deeply into his thighs to encourage his action. His kisses returned, harsh and hungry and yet worshiping over her lips, her neck, her chest as he thrust forcefully inside of her. He fucked her like she was the power he craved, the motion making her gasp and grab at him, pulling on his trousers so he was moving as hard as he possibly could - they would both ache in the morning, hopefully. It would please her to no end to still feel what he had done to her while sitting in both of her brothers company at breakfast. 

"Lo - Lo ao keligon, kesan ipradagon ao glaesagon!" If you stop, I'll eat you alive. She threatened weakly, desperately, her head falling back as he forced her peak to come over her, the pleasure making her moan loudly as she came over his cock, especially when he grasped at the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her white hair as he forced her to look up into his angry eyes while he too took his pleasure of her. The princess felt him inside her, filling her with his spend as he grunted another, "Fuck," into her ear.

Satisfaction weighed her limbs like stones as Otto pulled himself from her, his cock pulling from her full cunt with an amusing squelching noise, making her giggle with a bit of a drunken daze to her. 

The Hand didn't appear as bothered at her laughter as he had been earlier as he laid himself beside her, his chest still heaving from the effort it took for him to fuck her. He was hardly a young man, especially compared to her mere three-and-twenty, but at least their fuck had been a rather interesting one. 

"Se hembar jēda ao vēdros nyke sīr, kostan emagon naejot emagon iā tȳne urnēptre, ñuha āeksio." I may require another show the next time i am infuriated with you. The princess murmured softly, turning to use his arm as a cushion, not caring that his cum was leaking out of her and onto his bedclothes, the Valyrian easier to speak for her just then than the Common Tongue. 

"Do you often revert to High Valyrian while intimate, Princess?" Otto finally said, making her smirk into his doublet. His irritation was back and palpable, even as his right arm moved up and draped around her waist, his long fingers smoothing over her hip and down her backside. In an almost delightfully dirty move, his digits ducked between her arsecheeks and down to the petals of her cunt, where his seed was dripping down her thigh. He was annoyed with her for not making motion to avoid making a mess on his bed. She didn't care. 

" Mirri jēdi. " Sometimes.

His hand gripped her arse. His claws dug into her flesh as he lifted her cheek. His left hand brought over a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped over her cunt, rubbing through her sensitive flesh until she was clean, the action less courteous than it was the action of a disgruntled servant.

This thought, the princess enjoyed, and she wiggled her hips slightly, enjoying a brief fantasy of making another mess that he might have to tidy. 

But for this, she received a sharp swat on her bottom. 

"You are an irritation." Otto Hightower accused humorlessly, putting his soiled handkerchief away before lying himself back. She returned to using him as a cushion, and he did not argue against this usage. He was a servant to House Targaryen, after all. 

[lokidokieokie]

Under the Lamppost

Summary: You and Sherlock have been secretly harbouring feelings for each other, but it takes a moment of vulnerability for you both to finally reveal the truth

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): smidge of angst, love confessions, fluffy fluff

You had always been someone who was observant, even as a child. You would notice things that others wouldn't, pick up on details that would slip by most people's attention. It was a skill that had served you well in your adult life, especially in your current job as a consulting detective.

But unlike Sherlock, you didn't make a show of your abilities. You kept them hidden, only using them when necessary. You didn't want to draw attention to yourself, especially not from the likes of Sherlock Holmes.

You had been working with him for a few months now, and it was clear that he was intrigued by you. He would occasionally make comments about your abilities, but you always brushed them off, feigning ignorance.

One day, Sherlock was in a particularly foul mood. You could tell he was upset about something, but you didn't know what. You had been working on a case together, but Sherlock had abruptly left the crime scene, leaving you to finish up on your own.

You found him back at 221B, sulking in his chair. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should say anything. But something inside you compelled you to speak up.

"Something's bothering you," you said, your voice soft.

Sherlock looked up at you, surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"You're not your usual self," you said, taking a step closer to him. "You're distracted, agitated. And you're avoiding the case we were working on. It's unlike you."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out at you. But instead, he seemed to deflate.

"It's nothing," he muttered, looking away.

"It's not nothing," you said firmly. "You're conflicted about something. Something to do with me, I think."

Sherlock's head snapped back to look at you, his eyes wide. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been...different, around me," you said, hesitating slightly. "More...attentive. And not in the way you usually are. It's like you're...conflicted about something."

Sherlock stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You felt exposed, vulnerable, like you had revealed too much. You turned to leave, but before you could make it to the door, Sherlock's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

"Wait," he said, his voice low. "You're right. I am...conflicted. About you. About us."

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?"

Sherlock took a step closer to you, his gaze intense. "I mean...I think I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."

Your breath caught in your throat. You had suspected as much, but to hear him say it out loud...it was almost too much to handle.

"I feel the same way," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"

You nodded, feeling emboldened by his confession. "I've been hiding my abilities from you, but I've been observing you just as much as you've been observing me. And...I've noticed how you've been looking at me. How you've been treating me differently."

Sherlock's expression softened, and for a moment, it felt like everything was going to be alright. But then, something shifted in his eyes, and you knew something was wrong.

"I can't do this," he said, his voice rough. "I can't have feelings for you. It's too complicated. It's not...it's not safe."

You felt your heart sink at Sherlock's words. You had been so sure that he felt the same way as you did. You took a step back, feeling embarrassed and exposed.

"What do you mean it's not safe?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sherlock sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. "I can't get involved with someone I work with. It's not...it's not professional. And there's always the risk of danger. I can't put you in danger."

You felt a lump form in your throat. You knew that Sherlock had a point, but it still hurt to hear him say it. You had allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have something with him.

"I understand," you said, your voice shaking slightly. "I'll...I'll go. I don't want to make things awkward."

You turned and exited 221B. The lump in your throat growing with every step you took away from him. Opening the door, you turned behind you to look at the entryway one last time.

Swiping the tear off your cheek, you exited into the rain. You made it as far as the lamppost before Sherlock grabbed your hand. He spun you around and pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours in a fierce, desperate kiss.

The rain was coming down harder now, soaking through your clothes and plastering your hair to your face. But you didn't care. All you could feel was Sherlock's lips on yours, his arms around you, his body pressed up against yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both gasping for breath. He looked at you, his eyes intense.

"I can't promise that it will be easy," he said. "But I can promise that I want to try. If you're willing."

You felt a smile spread across your face, despite the rain and the uncertainty. "I'm willing. I'm more than willing. "

Sherlock leaned down and kissed you again, this time more gently. You melted into his embrace, feeling the rain washing away all the doubts and fears that had been holding you back. You knew that it wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that you were willing to fight for this, for Sherlock, for yourself. And in that moment, that was all that mattered.

A/N I miss Sherlock 😔

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee  @otterlycanadian 

[drpeppertummy]

They swallow down a burp they've been holding in, their belly bulging uncomfortably as it builds up inside them for Giuliana?

[stuffing/bloating, discomfort, button pop]

Ordinarily, Giuliana couldn't give less of a rat's ass about who heard her burp. While she was very well-respected, nobody in town had any expectations about her manners; she had a mouth on her that would make a sailor cringe, and she left no wondering what she thought about people who expected her to "behave like a lady." Still, when Dane's grandmother--the only living, respectable parental figure any of them had to speak of--came to visit, she felt inclined to make a good impression.

Angela couldn't cook to save her life, and Dane wasn't much better, so Giuliana had taken it upon herself to make a nice dinner for the occasion. After consulting Dane, she'd decided to try her hand at chicken adobo, having done a trial run the week before to make sure it came out right, along with her specialty, spaghetti bolognese. Dane had contributed a colorful side of squash made just the way his grandmother liked it, and Angela had felt confident enough to prepare a beautiful chocolate cake.

Now, they were sitting around the round dinner table, happily chatting away and enjoying their food. Everything had come out perfectly. Giuliana was relieved that the adobo had been met with approval, and while she was worried that two entrees might have been a bit much, everybody seemed to be enjoying them both. As they ate, though, she became aware of a certain snugness growing in her stomach. She'd been trying all afternoon to avoid burping--something she was not used to doing--and she was feeling much more full than she usually would by this point. Her belly bulged uncomfortably against her jeans, and the waist creaked ominously as she leaned forward to grab a clean napkin.

Giuliana tried to ignore her tightening stomach and pants under the table, focusing instead on the conversation above it. Dane's grandmother was in the middle of telling some wild story about her childhood shenanigans, and Angela was laughing so hard she could barely swallow her food. Giuliana smiled, but her belly let out an uneasy rumble. The pressure building up inside her was becoming unbearable. Her stomach, desperate to release it, tried to push out a burp, but she forced it back down, eliciting another pressurized-sounding gurgle.

"You're awfully quiet," said Dane's grandmother, patting Giuliana's arm. "Are you alright?" She nodded.

"She's always quiet," said Dane. This was true, at least in most situations; it certainly wasn't that she was shy, or even that she didn't have much to say. She was just a quiet type. Right now, though, she at least had a reason. She didn't think she'd be able to get out a full sentence without all the trapped air bloating up her overstretched stomach rushing out in one enormous burp. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold it; her belly felt like it was about to burst, and her pants were straining hard against it.

A loud rumble bubbled up inside her belly, and Angela glanced down at her. With some difficulty, she gulped the air back down before it could force its way out. Her belly rumbled again as it tightened painfully, bulging against the waist of her pants, and suddenly, to her horror, the button popped right open. Angela covered her mouth both in shock and to stifle a laugh.

"Oh, sweetheart, I hope you're not holding in all that gas on my account," Dane's grandmother laughed, giving Giuliana's distended belly a friendly pat. The light impact was enough to disturb the massive bubble that was trapped inside her, and, much to her dismay, it finally erupted in a long, impressive burp. She covered her mouth, mortified. Dane and Angela couldn't help but laugh at the uncharacteristic display of embarrassment.

"Hey, you'll definitely have room for cake now," said Angela through snorts and giggles, and she wrapped an arm around Giuliana's shoulders and squeezed her tight.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

In the nook of a valley that looked like it was ripped straight out of a postcard for “Adventurer’s Paradise,” Vannak-134 and Riz-028 stood awkwardly side by side. The scene was something out of a nature documentary, except the majestic beasts here were two supersoldiers in state-of-the-art MJOLNIR armor, not exactly blending in with the scenery.

Vannak, towering and clad in dark blue that screamed 'I’m here to party, but also I might accidentally demolish your house,' wore his EOD-variant helmet like it was part of his skull. Riz, on the other hand, was a study in black and subtlety, her armor sleek and adorned with a helmet that was more 'mysterious avenger from a sci-fi serial' than 'standard issue.' Those antennas on her head? They screamed 'I'm listening to your secrets, but also, I can't get good radio reception here.'

They were supposed to be scouting, or patrolling, or some other military term that meant 'walk around and make sure nothing explodes.' But there they were, staring at a waterfall as if it held the secrets of the universe, or at the very least, the secret to breaking the ice and admitting, "Hey, I kinda like you."

"Bet I can beat you to the top," Vannak said, breaking the silence with all the subtlety of a grenade in a china shop. His voice had that deep, rumbling quality, the kind that in ancient times made people think, 'Yep, that’s a leader,' or 'Maybe he’s a god,' but now just made Riz roll her eyes so hard she might've seen her brain.

Riz turned, her posture all 'challenge accepted,' but with an air of 'I’m also judging you.' "Wanna bet?" she threw back, her tone light, her dialect crisp with a hint of mockery, as if she was saying, 'Oh, we're doing this again? Alright, Shakespeare.'

The air between them, usually charged with the electricity of unspoken things and the lingering question of 'What are we, really?' was now laced with the anticipation of their ridiculous challenge. It was their thing, finding the most absurd ways to compete because apparently, talking about feelings was too mainstream.

"Okay, hotshot," Vannak chuckled, the sound muffled by his helmet, "loser buys dinner. And not just any dinner, but something from the black market of the mess hall."

Riz’s laugh cut through the sound of the waterfall. It was clear, almost musical, if music was made by sarcastic supersoldiers. "Deal. But when I win, I want one of those steaks you swear are 'just as good as real meat.' You know, the ones you talk about with the same reverence most people reserve for holy relics."

"You’re on," Vannak shot back, his stance ready, like a knight of old, if knights were into futuristic armor and making bets instead of jousting. "Prepare to be disappointed when it's your turn to raid the kitchen."

They squared up at the base of the cliff, the tension palpable, if you ignored the fact that this was all over a race to the top of a waterfall. "Ready to eat my dust?" Riz taunted, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a boxer ready to enter the ring."In your dreams," Vannak retorted, with the confidence of a man who has absolutely no idea if he can actually make good on his words.

Then, they were off, scrambling up the cliffside like two oversized mountain goats with an affinity for heavy metal—music or armor, take your pick. They climbed, occasionally slipping in their haste, the sound of their armor clanking against rock mixing with the constant roar of the waterfall. It was a symphony of chaos, a testament to their stubbornness and perhaps, a metaphor for their approach to personal issues—climb first, think later.

Halfway up, Riz nearly lost her grip, her foot slipping on a wet rock. Vannak reached out, grabbing her arm in a move that was part knight in shining armor, part 'oh no, we’re both going to die.' For a second, they locked visors, the world narrowing down to this moment of accidental intimacy.

"Thanks," Riz muttered, yanking her arm back like it was on fire, her tone a mix of gratitude and 'I'll never live this down.'

"Don't mention it," Vannak replied, his voice a weird blend of smug and genuinely concerned, like a puppy that's just saved its owner from tripping but also kinda caused it in the first place.

The race resumed, with more caution this time, as if they’d both been reminded that, yes, gravity still existed and, no, their armor couldn’t fly. When they finally reached the top, panting and probably a few dignity points lighter, they collapsed side by side, looking out over the valley below.

"So, about that dinner…" Riz started, breaking the comfortable silence.

"We'll see," Vannak replied, his tone light, but his unspoken words heavy with the promise of more than just a meal....

This was excellent. Your gift for imagery continues to astound me, and the ridiculousness of this event was so fun! I love the idea that Riz and Vannak are so bad at talking that they’d rather beat each other up than ask each other on a date.

The pining is adorable and the competition is even better. I loved it all.

[melrosing]

I think the arguments for bi Jaime are interesting but I have seen arguements that Jaime is homophobic based on what he says to Loras. What do you think?

I think:

I understand queer readings of Jaime and I also like them, gender and sexuality are major themes in his story so of course people are playing with that and exploring the subtext

I don’t think GRRM necessarily intended Jaime to be mlm. That doesn’t invalidate queer readings, because queering the text is often about looking beyond the author’s intention

Jaime has two lines that skew homophobic, but within the context of his broader story, this seems to be a reflection of his society rather than strongly held reservations of his own. His relationship with a gay character, Loras, paints a more complex portrait

GRRM doesn’t seem to have thought deeply about what Westeros’ attitude to homosexuality is, so there’s some carry over of negative attitudes towards it from our world, but it seems muted even compared to 20th century attitudes

So the line that usually opens this conversation is:

Jaime grabbed [Loras] with his good hand and yanked him around. "I am the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, you arrogant pup. Your commander, so long as you wear that white cloak. Now sheathe your bloody sword, or I'll take it from you and shove it up some place even Renly never found." (Jaime VII, ASOS)

The one that I think people often forget is this one, when Tywin says he’s considering marrying Cersei to Oberyn Martell:

“Oberyn Martell? The man's infamous, and not just for poisoning his sword. He has more bastards than Robert, and beds with boys as well.” (Jaime VII, ASOS)

So here Jaime’s threat deliberately references Loras’ sexuality, and he puts to his father that Oberyn’s sexuality is a point against him in terms of marrying the man to Cersei. However, I don’t really think GRRM intends either to… say much about Jaime’s attitudes?

With Loras, I think honestly GRRM writing in like…. what, the year 2000, might not have thought too hard about the remark. I think he probably meant it more as Jaime being crass more than he meant it to be a pointed jab at Loras’ sexuality.

The reason I think so is that Jaime doesn’t seem remotely fazed by Loras’ sexuality anywhere else in the text. He strongly identifies with Loras, and is never troubled by the fact that he’s identifying with a gay teenager. He is moved by Loras’ love for Renly, and actually trusts him more once he hears of it. He defends Loras from Cersei who actively worries about Loras’ potential influence over Tommen’s own ‘appetites’.

And overall, I think Jaime likes Loras: he’s prepared to dislike him on the basis that he’s an arrogant teenager, but as soon as he realises that’s really just the same as he was, he decides to be Loras’ mentor instead, esteems him and only ever speaks well of him. Loras doesn’t seem to challenge any preconceived notions Jaime has of homosexual men, because Jaime never thinks about Loras’ sexuality beyond that initial remark: this just isn’t something that bothers him.

For the comment about Oberyn: I think partly this is Jaime trying to put Tywin off the notion of marrying Cersei to Oberyn (I imagine Tywin does very much hold some opinions on homosexuality). Beyond that… I think Jaime probably has to some extent internalised the notion that a man who sleeps around with other men can’t make a good husband for a woman. Westerosi society is an extremely patriarchal one that seems to only understand sexuality and marriage in the most black and white heterosexual terms, and whilst they seem happy enough to ignore what people do behind closed doors - someone like Oberyn who openly consorts with both men and women garners a level of suspicion. So there is still a level of homophobia in Westerosi society, and so in Jaime, too, but again - I don’t think GRRM ever intends it as a strongly held belief of his, or any kind of hatred.

Ultimately I think Westeros’ whole relationship with sexuality is kind of… hazy in ASOIAF? There are a fair few canonically gay and bi characters, and no one seems be subject to hate or hate themselves for it - it’s just unspoken that you shouldn’t make a show of it, and that it… raises eyebrows?? Idk. I think GRRM unthinkingly incorporated some of the homophobia he knew in his own world, but had no desire to make it a point of suffering/hatred for his characters. It just kind of exists. I guess as a cishet guy he just wasn’t thinking too hard about it?? lol

As for bi/gay Jaime readings: I don’t think GRRM intended Jaime as mlm, but i think most people who read him that way know that. Queering the text isn’t about being able to point at a passage and know for sure that that’s what the author intended, but to recognise queer literary traditions they may have subconsciously picked up from other writers, or queer experiences they have unwittingly written about, or just being able to say - ‘that reads how this feels to me’. I think a lot of fandom analysis can be very literal, trying to work out precisely what an author meant by a particular line and what exactly it foreshadows. That kind of analysis is fine, but that’s not what all literary analysis is. A lot of it does mean looking way beyond author intent, not necessarily ‘death of the author’ in every instance, but yes, sometimes??

I think the only times I’ve seen people pushing back against the notion of bi/gay Jaime and pointing at these lines re. Loras is when they think Jaime fans want to wield bi/gay Jaime as a badge that protects him from further criticism. Only I’ve literally never seen anyone who enjoys the reading use it that way, and I think it also entirely misunderstands what queer reading is and why people employ it. Again, it’s the kind of push back that overly relies on fandom dynamics rather than just readerly approaches to a text lol

Anyway with Jaime I think there is SO much that lends itself to a queer reading and I will continue to enjoy these analyses, I think they enrich the character 👍🏻

[morgana-ren]

So I and a dream that I was in BG as a companion of DU Tav. And there was implications of being stuck in a three way with him and Gortash. So I wrote it out. What I can remember anyway!

‐--------

"We were good friends you and I, a shame to be the only one who remembers. But no matter, memories will return in time," Gortash eyes flick to you and back to Tav. "Rather exciting, no? To relearn such wonders."

"I remember bits, feelings," Tav shifts his weight a little, moving half a step in front of you. "Some things, people, are familiar even if I can't quite place them."

"Like your charming companion here?"

"You know her?" Tav ignores him, blunt as usual, focusing on the way Gortash can't seem to keep his eyes off you.

"Hmm," it's an amused sound. "We know her."

You shift uneasily, Tav's sudden tension putting you on edge. 

"We do?" It's a question but not really. You know Tav knows you, even if the circumstances still evade you both.

"She hasn't told you?" The amusement is still strong in Gortash's voice, along with something else, something darker that has goosebumps prickling across your skin.

"She doesn't remember much before the tadpole either," Tav is running out of patience, his fingers flicking and twitching restlessly against his thigh. "This whole mysterious act is tedious. If you know something then say so."

There's a pause, Gortash watching you intently, eyes searching you as if looking for signs of lie. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

"She was yours," He's bitter, a slight edge to his voice. "a gift from your father, something you wanted beyond anything else apparently." He waves his hand dismissively, obviously unimpressed with Tav's choice of reward.

"Mine?" Tav sounds a little bewildered, but you don't speak up, a knot of panic growing in your chest. You feel dread, fear, as confused as Tav sounds there's something horrid in your heart that's telling you Gortash is not lying. "A... lover?"

He sounds so incredulous that if you weren't suddenly filled with the need to run you might have laughed.

"A lover? Occasionally. more like.... a pet," Gortash smiles, but it's not friendly, his teeth bright and sharp, and its so familiar you feel sick. "Bound to you, dark magic etc etc," he tilts his head. "Such a bond snapped, broken, would be traumatic I imagine. I suppose it would make sense that she doesn't remember either."

You're going to be sick. Bile rising in the back of your throat. "Liar." It comes out hoarse, meek and Gortash gaze flicks to you so fast you almost bite you tongue with how quickly you shut your mouth. That foreign distant voice in the back of your head chiding you for speaking without permission. It makes your lip curl in disgust, why are you thinking such a thing. "He's lying T, you can't seriously believe him!"

"And you? We were close,-" Tav hesitates, but ignores your outburst and that feeling of dread growing in your stomach blooms fully. A feeling of something ending, an oddly familiar misery seems to settle in your bones. "...friends?"

"It is novel to see you so shy to speak your mind," Gortash's smile is different as faces your friend, it's not hungry, not promising pain and torment but fond. "We were close, yes."

Tav sighs, shifting again, although this time he turns sideways slightly, no longer protecting you but more keeping you in his sights, like he knows you're thinking of running. "Again, tedious. Tell me or I'm taking the stone and my charming companion and leaving."

"Still an impatient brat. I'm glad some things haven't changed," Gortash reaches out, thumb brushing over a smear of blood across Tav's cheek and you see it. Not the violent rejection you were hoping for but instead the barest twitch of movement as he leans into Gortash's touch. "We were going to rule together," Gortash's voice drops to a whisper and you whimper in pain and surprise as Tav's hand snaps backwards, grabbing tight hold of your wrist. "We were friends Bhaalspawn. Partners, lovers. We shared-," There's a brief pause, Gortash's eyes flicking over to you. "We shared everything."

Ooh, I love it! Dreams can be the best, can't they?

Gods I love Gortash. Him and my pasty vampire boy and Halsin. Whew.

[dotster001]

It’s fine with the mashup thing!! It’s my fault for spelling stuff wrong also lol-Plus I loved it either way! You don’t need to work on another, I love all your stuff so I’m happy with whatever you do!

-🦈

Event Closed

(so, I heard ya loud and clear, but I already knew who I wanted to match you with, so here ya go!)

I match you with Epel Felmier.

*Coughs* Short kings

He sees your anxiety. He'll be your big strong guy! You know the, "excuse me, he asked for no pickles." Meme? Yeah that's you and Epel now.  Sometimes he'll do things to show off that accidentally raise your stress levels (ie. Doing stupid  stunts on a blastcycle) but usually he's pretty well aware of your anxieties, and does everything he can to make them easier.

Epel also finds you funny. He does this thing where when you tell a joke, he doesn't react right away, but a half second later he lets out this loud, half snort/half cackle laugh. Heads are turning but he can't bring himself to care. Nothing's too dark for him, unless Vil is around. If Vil is there he might fake scold you, then snicker quietly, because he knows you'll get the lecture and he won't. What a delightful scamp 🙄😂

He is only going to feed into your chaotic side. He's the devil on your shoulder. He'll dare you to scale an apple tree, then heatedly make out with you at the top of it. He's absolutely feral, and he's even more feral for you. 

But he also won't say no to your snuggly side. He'll act like he's doing it for you, like he doesn't want to be constantly snuggled with you under a big fluffy blanket. He's pretty sure he's the one who wears the pants between the two of you, and he worries you'll think less of him if he initiates the cuddle sesh. But pretty soon, you'll wake up and try to get ready for the day, he'll be clingy like a koala, blinking up at you with sleepy eyes as he pouts.

He thinks he wears the pants…but that doesn't mean he won't be excited if you serenade him with a love song from a musical, or with your bass guitar, or some epic mixture of the two. He'll be so whipped for you. Like, fangirl, whipped for you. Like, he'd squeal if people weren't watching. 

Today was a "chaotic sharky" day. And you'd come up with the bright idea to stand on a broom instead of sit on it. Epel agreed this was a great idea.

And at first it seemed like it was. The two of you laughed hysterically for the two seconds you rushed through the air together, and just as quickly you both hit the ground.

You groaned and turned to look at Epel. He slowly sat up, and grinned at you.

"Babe," he laughed. 

"Babe that was so fucking hot!" 

Suddenly, he lunged at you, grabbed your face in his hands, and began heavily making out with you, ignoring the grass burns on his elbows from the recent fall.

"What in Seven's name!" You both heard a certain blond queen shout.

"Run," Epel giggled, grabbing your hand and yanking you off the ground, and dragging you after him, as the both of you laughed like fools.

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 21

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 4.6k

Synopsis: I'm sorry

Warnings: I'm sorry

“Last one Lt, come on now,” he was standing to the right of the free weight station, watching his leg with a careful gaze as he squatted with the bar across his shoulders. The big man was trying to muscle the bar up, his expression tense with the pain Soap could see written in his eyes. Finally he shook his head and called it, “Drop it no, you’re gonna strain the muscle.” At first Ghost didn’t listen but when Soap gave him a warning look the bar dropped off his shoulders and he stepped forward, chest heaving as he braced himself against the wall. He was balancing on one foot as the tension in his thigh released. Soap walked around the station to give him a worried look, careful not to get too close in front of so many other people at the base’s gym.  Blue eyes searched the masked face before he asked, “You good Ghost?”

The big man gave him a quiet nod as he lifted his foot behind him and held onto it for a second letting the muscle stretch. “Yeah, I’m fine Johnny.” He saw the smile through the mask, reassuring him that everything was fine before he added, “That’s all I’m doing today though.”

Soap nodded quickly “Ok sounds good.” He quickly pulled the weights off the bar, putting them back in their respective places before putting the bar back onto the rack. He glanced worriedly at the big man who was still stretching out his leg but he was quick to receive another smile of reassurance from the man. “Come on Ghost, let’s head out.” The Lieutenant let out an agreeing huff and they headed for the locker room. Soap glanced sideways as the man beside him threw a sweaty shirt into his gym bag. Tracing the lines of his tattoo slowly and then the swell of his ass beneath his gym clothes.

“Eyes up Sergeant,” the rough voice beside him said in quiet words, careful not to draw attention from anyone else that might have been in here. Soap turned back to the bench where his bag sat, a smirk on his face that both of the men ignored.

It wasn’t until a familiar tall German came in that Soap looked back up, examining the black mask that hid the lower part of his face. “Hey Konig,” Soap caught his eye, watching as he pulled a headphone out of his ear and the familiar smile lit up his face. “We still on for tonight, Konig?”

The Germ gave an enthusiastic nod at Soap’s question, answering with an equal amount of enthusiasm in his words, “Ja! The same bar as usual, yes?”

“Tha. I’m gonna go home and shower and then I’ll be there. The rugby game is supposed to start at 19:00 I think. Did you ask Gaz and Price?” Soap’s brow raised as he questioned. 

Konig nodded, “Yes I did, Price said he can’t though, he has to be in early tomorrow. And Gaz apparently has tiktok requests to record, I am not sure what that means though.”

Soap gave a quick shrug, “Oh well, hopefully they can make the next one.” He turned to look up at Ghost then his smile still bright, “You’re coming though right, Lt?”

Ghost did not return the smile as Konig had, instead the man stated with a cold undertone, “I can’t Sergeant.” Soap’s smile faltered then and before he could ask why the Lieutenant said, “I have PT today. I can’t miss it, I’ve only got two more scheduled visits before I get cleared.”

The Sergeant looked down for a second before he apologized, “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s ok though, Ghost, we’ll make sure you get the next one.” Konig gave him a quick nod of agreement and Soap clapped the Germ on the back before saying, “I’ll see you in a few buddy.” The big man nodded as he put his headphone back in and grabbed his gym bag before leaving. Soap turned to see Ghost glaring hard at Konig’s back before the stoney glare shifted down to his face. “I really am sorry, Ghost. I thought your PT was tomorrow, not tonight.”

Ghost grumbled something low under his breath as he grabbed up his own gym bag and growled out, “You could have told me we had plans.” 

He watched the big man as he stalked off, staring at the door even when it shut. Soap whispered to himself after a few seconds, “Fuckin hell, should have just asked.” He grabbed his bag muttering, “Fuck,” before he left the locker room and headed for his car in the parking lot. For the first time in a while he drove himself not back home but instead to the lonely apartment complex. Soap sighed as he dropped his gym bag on the ground by the door, stripping clothes off as he headed for the shower to wash the day’s workout off his skin, not to mention the day’s fuck ups. After he had gotten dressed again he took the time he still had to clean the apartment up, throwing away old groceries from the fridge and all the empty bottles laying around. He was cleaning up the clothes to throw them into his laundry bag when his phone buzzed on the counter.

Germ: Where are you?

Soap looked at the time before he let out a quiet curse leaving the laundry bag beside the counter and hurriedly answering, ‘On my way, big guy.’ He grabbed his keys and ran out the door running down the stairs and out to his car. He drove on two wheels almost the whole way there, it was a miracle he didn’t flip the car. Soap definitely could have passed as a Fast and Furious driver at that moment. He pulled into a parking space and half jogged inside, looking around at the tables, seeing Konig waving at him from the corner the team usually inhabited when they were here. Soap hurried over and gave the Germ a smile, “Hey Germ, sorry about that. Got distracted doing something.”

Konig slid him a beer and the Scot took it, lifting it to take a drink as the big man asked, “Was it Ghost?” Blue eyes went wide and he inhaled a gasp, the beer in his mouth going down with the air. Soap immediately sputtered, coughing wildly as he tried to expel the beer from his lungs. He saw the slight panic in the other man’s eyes as he stood from his stool before giving him a few pats on the back.

The Scotsman finally got his ability to breathe under control and Konig took his seat again, watching him with an innocent look. Finally he managed to choke out, “Wh-What is that-What do you mean by that?”

“You two are together, ja?” The big man’s head tilted and he saw the dark red eyebrows lift with his question. Konig really was just asking, it seemed, curious about the relationship between the two.

Soap shook his head, his face scrunching up in an obvious lie, “What? No we’re not together. Why would you even think that?”

Konig looked down at his beer before shrugging, “He’s always staring at your ass when you’re in the gym and he never lets you out of his sight when we’re training. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And everytime you send me a snapchat it’s always from his house. I thought everyone knew Soap, I am sorry for making the assumption though.”

“He stares at my ass?” Soap asked with a small smile on his face, not even considering everything else Konig said.

The big man sitting across from him smirked beneath his mask before he pulled it down and took a sip. Finally he answered the zoned out Scotsman, “Ja, all the time. He’s really bad at hiding it honestly.”

Soap’s head shook slowly as he wiped a hand over his face and laughed out loud. It took him a second to get himself back under control before he said between little chuckles, “Germ, listen, you can’t tell anyone that. That stays between us ok? Both of us could get in trouble.”

“Oh ja I know. That’s why I’ve never brought it up before. I just thought it’d be funny to see your face when I asked you though.” The German laughed as he sat back in his chair.

The Scot shook his head, chuckling still at Konig before he said, “You know you’re an ass. Just wait until I get my hands on payback material,” Soap ordered them a couple rounds of shots, Konig buying the next couple rounds as they leaned back in their chairs watching the rugby game playing in the bar. By the time the match was over, Soap was feeling the effects of the alcohol hard enough that he didn’t even consider driving back, and Konig was about to tip over. “Hey big guy, come on. You need to sleep this shite off.”

Konig leaned hard into the shorter man as they exited the bar, throwing Soap’s balance off as they started walking down the sidewalk, both knowing they were far too gone to be driving anywhere. “You know I really don’t feel that drunk right now,” the big man slurred out as they walked. Soap slipped under his arm without a word, letting him walk a few steps watching as he smacked into the brick wall. The Scot let out a loud laugh at the sight of Konig just barely standing up against the wall before he muttered, “That was just rude.”

Soap giggled as he helped the big man back to standing up straight before letting him lean against his side again. “Yeah, but it was funny as shite Germ.” They headed up the stairs to Soap’s floor, Konig leaning head first against the wall as the Scot beside him struggled with his keys. Laughs slipped out of the Germ’s mouth as he watched Soap fail a couple times to get the key inside, “Shhh Konig.” He tried to push the key in again, laughing at himself as he failed for the second time and still trying to shush the big man again before he fell into a fit of drunken giggles himself. Finally, the door opened on the third try and they tumbled inside the small apartment.

Konig braced himself against the counter as he turned to lock the door back. He threw his keys and phone on the counter before letting Konig wrap an arm around his shoulders again, walking the big man down the hall. “Alright big guy, you’re sleeping in my room. Can’t have you breaking my couch.” He felt the chest next to his temple vibrate with a couple giggles that drew out his own again. Soap pulled himself out from under the big man’s arm as he went to turn on the light so they could see. Before he had even turned all the way around though he heard a thud and caught himself against the wall as he glanced back over his shoulder. 

Konig was on his hands and knees as Soap watched from his spot against the wall, unable to stop the laugh as the big man crawled towards the bed and gave up halfway there before rolling to his back. His arms stretched out and he waved Soap off as the Scot tried to help him up, “Nein nein, leave me here. I sleep here now.” The smaller man nearly tripped over his own feet as he tried to step back, just barely catching himself on the door frame.

“Yeah Germ, you stay there. It’s better than the hardwood floors at least,” he slurred out before he disappeared out the door and down the hall. “Goodnight Konig, don’t puke on my floor!”

“Copy that!” He heard from the bedroom as he shed his clothes and collapsed over the back of the couch. Welcoming the comfort of sleep, even if he was wishing Ghost was there. He did always sleep better when the scent of pine and musk was there for him to bury his face in. One night though, he could make it one night.

A loud bang at the door had his tired eyes struggling open, looking around the dark room trying to figure out where he even was. It was unfamiliar at first until his mind came back around along with a pounding headache. He winced as he pushed himself up from the couch, wondering why the hell he was at his apartment. Oh yeah, he had gone drinking with Konig, he’d forgotten about that. Another loud bang had him rolling to the floor with a loud thud, and a muffled curse as he fought to get his limbs in working order. He struggled to his feet and unlocked the door before pulling it open.

Soap stumbled backwards as the door pushed open faster than he had expected. He saw a familiar balaclava looking down at him, and he could see the worry behind those hazel eyes. “Fuckin hell Johnny, I thought you were dead.” Strong arms trapped him in a hug, pressing him hard into the black hoodie he was wearing. Soap took in a deep breath and caught himself smiling warmly at the thing he had been missing. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

He turned his head to the side so his cheek was flush with the warm fabric and answered, “It’s on the counter. I was tired after getting back here so I just went to sleep.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have picked you up.” The arms slowly unwound from him and the gloved hands cupped his face on both sides, holding his eyes up at him forcing him to look into the worry that had been wrought on the man others feared but who in turn feared for him.

Soap shrugged and looked down, feeling heat rush to his cheeks when he muttered, “I don’t know. I was kind of drunk so it just didn’t come-”

A tired voice spoke from down the hall, “Soap?” He watched the hazel eyes lift over his head and lock on to the man at the end of the dark hallway who was holding onto the wall for balance as he walked towards the living room. “Oh, hey Ghost.”

The Lieutenant’s grip on his face loosened and his hands fell to his sides. Ghost looked back down at him and then back up, and Soap immediately saw the rage there, the tension in that barely controlled feral form. Konig stopped a couple feet away at their end of the hallway and Soap finally turned to see he had stripped at some point. He felt his stomach drop as Ghost shouldered past him too fast to be stopped. There was a quiet rage in the initial step towards him and a fist shot forward with blinding speed. It happened faster than Soap honestly thought possible, Ghost’s first punch knocked the German down in his still tipsy and very tired state and then he was leaning over him with one hand clamped over his throat and the other relentlessly striking at Konig’s unmasked face.

“Ghost! What the fuck!?” Soap jumped into action then, grabbing the Lieutenant by the arm and halting his next strike. “Are you fuckin crazy man!?” The rage-filled eyes turned on him then, attention turning on him without a second thought. The large hand holding Konig by the throat released and he heard the huge gasp in as he coughed and tried to catch his breath. Ghost’s hand was around his own throat then, not squeezing just pushing him back until his back hit the wall. His head smacked against the drywall and the big man towered over him, a statue of barely controlled rage. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing Lt?”

The man leaned forward a bit as he growled out, “I could ask you the same thing, Sergeant MacTavish.” Konig was the one who broke their tense stare as he shoved Ghost off of the smaller man finding the rage focused back on the German before he growled, “Stay the fuck out of this, git.”

Soap had to break them up next before they came to blows again, “Konig go to my room.” The German narrowed his eyes at Ghost before Soap gave him a firm push in the direction. He waited until he heard the door close before he looked up at the Lieutenant, “What the hell was that about?”

He could see Ghost’s jaw working underneath the black fabric before he answered in a strained voice, “You fuck the one man, the one fuckin man MacTavish.”

Dark brows furrowed before his head shook and he immediately shot back, “Fuck him? I never did anything with him, Ghost. He was sleeping in my room and I was on the bloody couch.”

“Oh really? Why’d it take you so long to answer the fuckin door then?” Ghost pressed a bit closer at the question.

Soap glared hard at the big man before answering, “I fell off the bloody couch and couldn’t get back up, that’s why. Wasn’t expecting a 6 '4 bastard to come beating my door down in the middle of the night.” Ghost’s rage was still barely controlled, even directed at the Scotsman who just shook his head, “You could have at least asked and waited for an answer before you decided to beat the shit out of a man who is our teammate by the way, in case you’ve forgotten that bit.” Ghost looked around at the floor then where Soap’s clothes were piled up at the foot of the couch.

Soap shoved by him to grab his phone off the counter then, ten missed calls and about twenty missed texts all asking if he was ok and whether he had made it home ok. He tossed the device back onto the counter and focused his glare back on the Brit, “You should leave. I can’t believe you would think I would cheat on you for a quickie with our fuckin teammate. Not to mention Ghost, us,” he pointed between the both of them, “We aren’t even anything. You have no right to me, I’m not a piece of property you get to fight over.”

The man turned to find Soap’s face, and even through the mask he could see the disbelief in his eyes. The big man shook his head slowly, “Are you serious?”

“Aye, get the fuck out. I think we need a bit of space, you obviously need to get your head on right, and I have some thinking to do.” The Scotsman’s arms were crossed over his chest now, his jaw set in a stern look. Both of them were blind to the other’s pain now, too wrapped up in their own thoughts at the sudden shock of Soap’s words.

Finally, Ghost looked down and growled out, “Fine.” He turned without another word and was gone in a moment, door slamming shut behind him.

Soap couldn’t move from his spot in the living room, not even when he felt Konig’s hand touch his shoulder as he rounded to his front. Green eyes slipped into his field of vision breaking his eye contact where the door had slammed shut, “Soap?”

Blue hues fixed on green then and he swallowed hard at the lump that had gathered in his throat. He noticed the swelling that had begun around the big man’s cheek and nose where Ghost had been landing blows. “Hold on, I have something for that,” he shrugged his hand off and moved to the cabinet, searching through them until he found the med kit Ghost left in his apartment months ago. Soap opened it up and nodded towards the couch, “Sit down.”

Konig didn’t move at first as he watched the Scotsman before he finally complied with a sigh and sat on the couch. Soap stood in front of him laying the med kit on the coffee table. He inspected the man’s nose carefully before he muttered, “It’s broke, you ready?” The man nodded and Soap braced his thumbs on the spot before he pushed it back where it was supposed to go. Konig winced and held his hand up as blood pooled out of it. Soap was ready with a cotton nose plug, an ointment smeared on the end, and shoved it as high as it would go. It took a second for him to find the cold packs but he finally did. He felt his hands shaking as he tried to fold it over and crack the contents inside but he couldn’t get his fingers to cooperate. Blue eyes closed for a moment and he took in a deep breath trying to settle himself.

He felt Konig’s hands grab his, opening them as he took the cold pack from him. “I’m ok Soap…Are you?” He saw the worry in the green eyes, the desire there to help him but not having any clue as to how.

Soap swallowed hard as he stepped back, tripping over the coffee table. His shoulder hit the hardwood hard and he let out a loud string of curses. Konig stood to try and help him but Soap merely shook his head shrugging his hands off, “I’m fine, I got it Germ. Just go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” The Sergeant pushed himself up and didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he disappeared down the hall. He shut the door quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. 

The time passed around him in a blur as he sat there staring at the floor while his mind replayed his angry words. Replayed the hatred he had felt in that moment and the pain he had wanted to cause. Why would he ever think he had cheated, how could he ever think that? When he saw the first hint of the sun he stood up, dressing without a thought. He headed down the hall, glancing at Konig’s passed out form on the couch. He scribbled a quick note telling the big man to lock up before he left and slapped it to the door as he shut it behind him. 

Soap retrieved his car from the bar’s lot, heading to base with a quiet determination to distract himself. As far as self-destructive tendencies went Soap’s certainly ranked higher than most. He made his way down the hall towards the cages stopping only when a familiar voice yelled behind him. “Soap!” The Scot turned to find Price in the hall behind him. He got a beckoning nod and backtracked to his office, eyes narrowing as he looked between Laswell and the Captain. Price spoke first, “You’re next in the rotation Sergeant. Gaz had the last one, Laswell has you for the foreseeable future.”

Blue eyes turned to the woman and he gave a quick nod, “Yes ma’am.”

“I need you to confirm some intel for me on a base location. Strictly recon, that’s all. Is that clear?” Laswell waited for him to nod his understanding before she continued, “You leave in an hour. You will be briefed on the plane. Gear up and head for the tarmac.”

Soap hid his surprise at the lack of time he had before takeoff but merely nodded and said, “Yes ma’am.” He was out the door as fast as he had entered, continuing his trek to the cages. He packed his gear with quick hands, running through a mental checklist that had been burned into his memory after years of service. The Scot didn’t bother looking up when the door opened, busying himself with packing rather than worrying about whoever was now standing at the door to his cage and watching him. He didn’t need to look up though, there was only one person who watched him like that, who made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his skin prickle with the sensation of being watched. He threw his bag over his shoulder and stood up with a gun case in his hand, staring hard at the masked man in front of him.

Ghost just stood there, blocking his way with a hard stare. “Where are you going?”

He nearly faltered from the hard glare when he heard the hint of worry in the voice. The Scot didn’t though, saying with an even tone, “Solo recon, I leave in fifteen minutes.” He stepped forward but the big man stayed stubbornly in the way, “Move Ghost I have to go.”

The big man shook his head, “I need to talk to you.”

Soap shoved past him, refusing to look back up at him, “I don’t have time Ghost. Maybe you should have talked last night.” He opened the door leaving the cages behind but not the big man who was right behind him, keeping up easily with his long strides. Finally he caved in and grumbled out, “Talk then.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” that caught the Scotsman’s attention, blue eyes flicking up to him and nearly causing him to trip over his own two feet. Ghost continued with a strained voice, “I shouldn’t have hit Konig but…He just makes me so fuckin angry. I can’t help it.” They both went quiet as they passed someone else walking down the halls before Ghost added quickly, “I never should have put my hands on you either. I didn’t mean to.”

The Scotsman didn’t stop, staring hard at the path in front of them as they exited onto the tarmac, a jet taking off in front of them and his own ride waiting for him a hundred yards off. He had five minutes now, better make this quick, “You did mean to Ghost. You meant everything you said and did last night and that’s the worst part about all of this. Konig isn’t a part of whatever we are, you should have been able to trust me.” Hazel eyes were watching him with an emotion that not even he could read. “Do you think I’ve never been jealous? That I don’t want to beat someone whenever they look at you, whenever you lift that bloody mask up? Cause you’re wrong if you do. But the difference is that I trust you, and I respect you enough not to put some idiotic restriction on you and your life. I can be friends with whoever I choose to be friends with Ghost, I can make that decision for myself because I’m a human being and I have that right.” Soap turned to make for the plane before he stopped himself and looked back up at the man, “We’ve been moving too fast, Ghost. We need some space. This will be good for us, at least I hope so. Maybe while I’m gone you can find some of that respect I just mentioned.”

Soap turned and took a couple steps, eyes widening and freezing when he heard the deep voice yell over the plane’s engines with a desperate tone, “Please Johnny, I love you.” He turned so fast he nearly broke his own neck watching as the big man seemed to realize what he had said, surprise lighting up those hazel eyes.

He took a couple steps back towards Ghost, getting close enough he could hear the anger there and pressed a stiff index finger into his chest, “No, you don’t get to do that. Not to me, not right now. Christ Ghost,” he shook his head and looked up at the blue sky as if cursing whatever higher power sat up there laughing down at him. “We can talk when I get back, but you don’t do that to me, never again.” Soap turned back to his plane, booking it across the open space as he boarded, cursing the highest power above that the big bastard had said that now of all times.

[mdhwrites]

My Adventures With Superman 1-2 Review: A Super Start That’s Bursting at the Seams... And You Can Feel It.

So my short version is to go check it out. The cast is delightful, I think as someone who’s first Superman media was Man of Steel that this is absolutely NOT THAT version of Superman and that it’s having a lot of fun with these characters just starting out on their journey. However, it’s not quite perfect as it’s ambitious in its scope, even for being two parts, and you can feel the parts where they’re kind of trying to speed things along. Luckily, the cuts are most good but the writing and pacing aren’t the only ones to suffer as while the animation is great for a lot of it, it can get a little clunky, especially in the fight scenes tragically. Still, it’s a good, solid start and the romance is adorable, befitting their age as barely out of college, and there is a definite charm to them that, from my understanding at least, has been missing from Superman media for a while now.

Now, everything from here on out is open for spoilers so that’s your warning!

So the first thing I want to mention is that this show definitely feels like it has a definite focus behind it. It’s one that is pretty normal for a lot of Superheroes but that I don’t know how much a lot of stuff has actually tackled it for Superman, especially at a point where he could be questioning it: Who am I?     

Before both episodes’ title card, this is the question posed by Clark and even what he posits to himself at the end of the first episode. In the second episode, he finally examines the ship that brought him here more properly because Lois wanting to know more about “Superman” makes him curious too. He wants to know more answers and how they go about making it so he doesn’t really get them from Jor-el like usual is actually fun: Kryptonians don’t speak English. So Clark can get some from images but not everything but it’s a start to his journey, just like this is the start of him being a journalist and what that might look like.

Which actually is somewhat paralleled well with Lois in these episodes. The question of how far one will go for a story is something all journalist characters need to tackle but this one is asking Lois the other big one: WHY are you going so far? We can still see her good nature and her priorities are set straight, like her making sure to grab a detonator instead of taking notes or the like, but she is still doing it to make a name for herself. Not to be the biggest in the world though which is a good balance because frankly, an intern just wanting to actually be doing the job she’s interning for is extremely reasonable, even if maybe she’s going too far. Why wouldn’t she though? She knows what she wants to be: Lois Lane, Reporter for the Daily Planet!

And that’s a fun difference. One is firm in their identity while the other is firm in their methodology. After all, Clark is a farm boy. He tells himself he’s going to have a normal day, be a normal dude, and then seeing a missing cat stuck in a tree has him immediately save it and return it before going “You HAD to save the cat. You couldn’t just ignore it,” even though so many would. And this also makes it clear what the priorities of this Superman are: He wants to be normal and his extraordinary self is simply what lets him help people better than he otherwise could.

This thematic framing between Lois and Clark is also VERY good for the show because it’s leaning HARD on the romance between the two of them. It’s a lot of blushing and bits of awkwardness but they’re also probably fresh out of college and in your early twenties, you still act plenty like a teenager. Not that they’re only blushing wrecks though. There are multiple times in these two episodes where they’re bouncing journalistic ideas against each other and coming up with better ideas than either could alone, showing even early on how the two can be good for each other as friends and colleagues and that the fact that they both find each other attractive isn’t going to get in the way of that.

And frankly, with how cute the two of them are, as well as Clark still being... Clark... Yeah, I don’t blame them for blushing at being close to an attractive person or the like.

Then again, in general the show is REALLY pretty and REALLY expressive. It’s still trying to be more for teen and adults I think, especially with the final scene of episode 2, so it can’t be too over the top with its animation but it replaces that effort to make sure characters are being expressive and charming even when just talking. It’s not always perfect, I’m not sure if the characters quite always mesh with their backgrounds, but in general it’s a very charming art style, the designs are good and it sells the energy of the show well.

I am a little more mixed on the action so far unfortunately. It’s not really that the action is bad. There are some really good shots and fun choreography going on, Miss Electric versus Black Ops in episode 2 is especially good, but there are also absolutely moments that are just a bit more awkward and clunky and they do stand out. They don’t overstay their welcome but I don’t blame anyone who notices them.

And speaking of clunky, the writing isn’t perfect. There’s clunky moments and episode 2 especially feels like it’s a bit rushed from how much they’re doing but most of it’s fine for it being the introduction to the show and having to establish a lot very quickly. The entire return to his ship in episode 2 as an adult feels like it needs more breathing room and that they’re compressing what could have been half an episode to only like three minutes at most. It’s not bad and it’s a good place to cut down since the origin of Superman is one of the few main Superman elements still burned into pop culture, but it feels less natural than some of the rest. Episode 1′s warehouse scene with its liar reveal gets a bit less of a pass except that it’s over and done with very quickly and it does setup the question for Lois of if she’s reporting for the truth, glory, promotion, etc. especially when she can’t see a naturally helpful guy directly in front of her. Will her ambition blind her?

Oh, adding this here though I feel bad for not mentioning him earlier: Jimmy Olsen is definitely the comic relief of the series but he gets his own moments to shine as a reporter, his shtick is cute, at least for now, even if I don’t love it, and I love how he plays matchmaker. He definitely could use more fleshing out but frankly, I don’t know how much love Jimmy Olsen gets in most Superman media and he makes a good best friend to Clark here. Even his obsession with aliens and the supernatural is a good fit for making Clark sweat about his identity and leads to probably one of the most charming excuses I’ve seen for a “Is it a bird? I think it’s a plane,” joke. It’s a lot like the other up and down elements of the pilot two episodes but you absolutely can see how Jimmy could develop into being a third leg for the show, rather than just a third wheel.

And that’s why you can feel the seams, feel how much they’re doing and it threatening to all spill out in a mess... But they do hold. The whole thing is really enjoyable, if you like romance then I think you’ll really enjoy Clark and Lois’ stuff like I did, the action is solid and will hopefully smooth out as the show goes on and I know personally I’ll be keeping an eye out each week to give you the scoop on how this take is going. I know personally, as my first charming Superman I’ve really been exposed to, I’m definitely excited.

Excited for My Adventures with Superman.

==========

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past.

I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[fairweather-fangs]

CF for the relationship meme!

UHHHHH. So they aren't together, persay, but we can treat the business relationship like any other more significant type of relationship. Also C isn't mine so sorry if he's ooc.

Who starts most fights?

Both of them in a way. F is more likely to bring up an issue but C turns a discussion into a fight. It's probably something stupid.

Who is more likely to storm out during a fight?

F would get annoyed and leave but... F doesn't leave so probably C.

Who is more likely to cry during a fight?

Neither of them I don't think. Whatever they're fighting over it probably isn't worth tears.

Who surrenders at the end of most fights?

F usually. Whatever C wanted to do is worth fighting over, he usually justs lets it be.

Who is more likely to throw things in fights?

C. F is non violent. C is liable to grab the nearest object and toss it in a random direction to emphasize his point.

Who is more likely to bring up past mistakes?

F could make a whole folder of all the shit C has fucked up. He did, actually, and everytime C has a terrible idea he gets it out.

Who is louder in fights?

C, again F doesn't get agressive. If C needs to get his point across he'll yell.

Who is more likely to blame the other?

Depends on the situation. Either way neither of them are taking the blame.

Who is more likely to blame themselves?

Again, neither of them are taking blame.

Who is more likely to give the silent treatment?

They are both petty and will try and ignore one and other in hopes that that works somehow.

Who gets jealous more easily?

C weirdly enough. For some reason he doesn't like when F chooses to smoke with/bang K instead of him. He doesn't like F as anything other than a business partner and fuck buddy but he finds K's existence slightly threatening. He doesn't care if F goes on dates or dose stupid couple things with her it's on the drugs and sex he has an issue with. Perhaps he feels that because he values K's relationship more that everytime F dose something with her that he'd normally do with C, C feels unimportant? Who knows.

Who is angered more easily?

Both of them honestly. F can get really pissy when he's sober but C can blow things out of proportions.

Who is more likely to break off the relationship?

F has told C to leave before. He's told him it's over until C stops being an ass. That's probably the closest equivalent.

Who is more likely to threaten to leave?

C will threaten to "leave the operation" (ignore him for a day) and "snitch and go into witness protection" (tell Roger and move to a dorm furth away from F's) over a fight he started.

Who is more likely to actually leave?

F has other people to fill C's shoes. If he ever gets too much of an issue he'll abandon him, but the benefits of C outweigh the irritation.

Who is more likely to forget the other first?

I don't think they'll forget eachother. C might disregard the fiasco later in life as a weird first job, but F will probably be cursing whoever came to replace C. That and he'll miss the intimate moments. C is definitely one of rhe more skilled of F's boy partners and afterwards he isn't affectionate, persay, but he's the only one of F's hookups that'll let him stay the night with no drugs involved (I mean, they will be, because it's F, but they don't have to be)

[vapemaster42069]

Hello there I’m brainrotting about Empires here you go:

(Ignore formatting this is pasted from my notes and html doesn’t like mobile lol)

### HEADCANNONS YEAAAAH BABAY:

Jimmy is a yellow chickadee bird hybrid. He often gets cold, and can be found huddled in random people's bases, wrapped up in blankets, in the winter. Sausage knitted him gloves to help him keep warm, and although he jokes about them, he really treaures the gift. He won't wear them, though, because he might get them dirty. Joel woun't ever admit it, but he likes his hugs because his coverts get all fluffy and ticklish. When Jimmy is annoyed, his wings get all floofy around his ears and shoulders, like a really soft porcupine.

Pix has babysitting duty when Hermes can't go to Lizzy's. They usually cause minor amounts of chaos, doing random things like rotating every piece of furniture in Scott's house five degrees counterclockwise.

Jimmy will never admit it, but he eats sawdust. Scott will never admit it, but he supplies it. Sausage knows about all of this. He doesn't question it. He offers Jimmy his wood sometimes as a better option.

Joey can't swim.

fWhip makes the best cookies, and he usually has a supply as a back-up for when he runs out of trading materials. He can be seen trading his chocolate-chip cookies for full shulkers of moss and copper. He has a pet chicken named Henny, whom he gets the eggs from. She hates almost everyone. Hermes once had a 2-hour staring contest with her, with the most intense eye contact anyone on the Empires server had ever seen. Bets were made. Friendships were made and broken. Sausage and Joel got married, then divorced again. Hermes won. Oli went further into debt. Pix got richer. Jimmy called Hermes stupid and Sausage and Joel stabbed him.

Scott's black market began as a way to convince people to get his wood instead of Sausage's wood. It didn;t work.

Gem is colorblind. She drags one of her neighbors over to help her judge her copper's aging and different block pallettes.

Joel is 11'1, but he doesn't say that, because it's funner to just say he's 11 ft. He can palm Tiny Tim's head like a basketball. One time, when they were filming and Timmy insulted Hermes, Joel just grabbed his head like a baseball and lobbed him 20 ft in the air, clear over the Lore City walls and all the way into the central fountain.. They had to stop filming for the day because Joel laughed so hard he punched himself in the face, resulting in a back eye.

fWhip learned how to use a bow so he could enchant it with Flame and set spiders in his base on fire.

Scott doesn't know how to tie his shoes. He passes the velcro off as fashion. Only Hermes questions this.

False eats raw eggs.

Joey knows a wide variety of sea shanties, and he's been teaching them to Oli one by one, in exchange for learning how to dance. Oli is trained in all kinds of dancing, from waltzes to square dancing (for some reason), and happily obliges.

Pix can speak Spanish. He has not mentioned this to Sausage.

Sausage and Joel are divorced, but not in an "I hate you" way, more in a "oh, we'e just bros and got confused with all the bromance" way. They regularly get married and divorced again for the bit.

It's rumored that Hermes was born the way Hephastus was. Joel has not adressed this. Sausage has been sworn to silence under threat of No More fWhip Cookies, and will neither confirm nor deny.

Sausage blushes violently, in every definition of the phrase. He both looks like a tomato and starts jumping on people who point it out. Joel likes to fluster him for this reason.

Lizzy hates tomatoes.

Oli still doesn't know how to string his lute. He makes Scott do it. Scott does not play the lute. Joel calls it a "little bitch guitar" when they're not filming.

Oli says he's a speakeasy, and takes pride in sneaking alcohol around the server. No one has told him that it isn't banned yet. There's a betting pool for how long it'll be until he figures it out.

### OTHER THOUGHTS::

I just realized that I think Joel canonically slept with Sauusage's father. why is this canon.

jUST. tHE wHOLE KERALIS thing is so. why.

The fact that the Hermits rely so heavily on the value of diamonds, but are operating in a barter system, is going to fuck up their economy so badly man. As long as there isn't a publically-accepted or regulated agreement on the stored value of money, it's not an effective medium of exchange. oddities Shall Ensue. I hope they do it early-america style where each state issues their own non-gold-backed paper money that is impossible to exchange and irregular in value. Excellent. I want to see a legitimate foreign exchange market. And also chaos because I think it's funny. Same energy as actually sueing someone in small-big claims court in minecraft. I want one of them to become an accountant. Start selling bonds. Establish an international trade system. Can you tell I fucking love foreign relations pls look into them they're so interesting i swear jus-

### MUSIC TIME MUSIC TIME:

Joel "Tall, Handsome, and Sexy" Smallishbeans: [Zephyrus](https://open.spotify.com/track/2gA7W4DUxVd2tzBN6LVaeI?si=761de59a10ec4211) by the Oh Hellos, [In a Week](https://open.spotify.com/track/5F55SiWwEEytk6vsQXHxQW?si=25980c403d754566) by Hozier. I like to imagine he's some almighty god who never really fit in with the other gods, but he's not sure he wants to fit in with humans either. Slowly, he's discovering a new home among the mortals, letting down the facade of imvulnerability and letting some of his repressed humanity out. He's torn between the person his godly family wanted him to be, and the person he wants to become (jerwee mutuals Gillion he's like Gillion im talking abou-).

Timmy "Not a Toy" Solidarity Gaming: [Where is My Mind](https://open.spotify.com/track/2AsIm3Hr3GS4P4nntYSs2Q?si=b86abbb1887f41f7) by Nada Surf, [Haven](https://open.spotify.com/track/0bndF6tTweNXPjwpPL7Slt?si=e84daa7cc5444ef9) by Novo Amor, [I Exist I Exist I Exist](https://open.spotify.com/track/0nO25NiPrKX64oy7lz5ZaJ?si=4b83b182df5242f9) by Flatsound. I love the headcannon that, in order for a toy to continue living, at least one person must believe they're a real (ykwim) person. This season has consisted of Jimmy trying so hard to believe in himself... but how long can he convince himself of he's not lying? It doesn't help that Joel keeps pestering him, but he can't tell him about his problem because the belief can't be from obligation. He's slipping. He can't keep his authority, can't keep his sanity, can't convince his friends he's a real person no matter what rules he puts in place. Because, he thinks, that's what humans do, right? They subjugate and lie and control. He finds he may not like being a person as much as he thought.

Oli "I Can Play the Guitar" Orionsound: [All These Things that I've Done](https://open.spotify.com/track/5vollujufHY0jMZxx77VWr?si=de83808fed054e60) by the Killers, [Immer Noch Hier](https://open.spotify.com/track/4dJ0Dfq2nPmQX0gTOtITal?si=edf5dcb9e843427a) by JORIS

Mythical "Wood Daddy" Sausage: [A Contracorriente](https://open.spotify.com/track/2XBzPGUfiHG9xBGBuuKHwk?si=4b8f73907ad142da) by Alvaro Soler y David Bisbal. [Ash In The Sun](https://open.spotify.com/track/5GCVqaPokLlyUp9QiTidpU?si=652f87ba9db4493c) by Vundabar. I really like the idea that he exists as a paradoxical servant/defier of the gods. Like, he wants so badly to seperate himself from the divine, but no matter where he runs, it follows him. Hell, he even has a child with one. He's a semi-normal guy who keeps being ripped between dimensions, times, and identities, playing so many individual roles for everyone that he doesn't know which one is really him anymore.

If you ship c!Smallishbeans/c!Sausage this makes it more interesting too. One god who doesn't want to be one but is in denial, and overcompensating his divinity as a result, and one dude who's fed up with being dragged into the gods' business and doesn't know what he wants anymore because the gods took even that from him. They have a child together. They live apart. How fitting it is, that he's named Hermes, after an old-world god, but he's human.

I'm all for the bromance hc but like. This^ is great too lol. I'm a sucker for tragic romance.

[primofate]

Hello! I saw the request so I wanted to see if I could get in, I tried to convert it to my time so hopefully I did do it correctly and it's within the time slot (if not please ignore this).

Can I request Xiao with a frail reader? Like gets hurt easily and can't over exert themselves or they end up passing out.

This is interesting! :D Thanks anon. I shall do a headcanon with a short drabble. 

scenario: Xiao with a frail gn!reader

Note: bruising easily and getting tired easily might just be because you’re “frail” but it could also be because you’re anemic. Get checked. :P 

Warnings: soft Xiao, overprotective Xiao, slightly humorous, not proofread

Xiao

Xiao is not just physically strong but his mental strength is up there too. He has to struggle with his karmic debt and he’s done that for a looooong time. 

So when he meets you, he doesn’t quite understand how fragile you are. He’s met fragile people before, yes, but not like you. 

You’re fragile in a way where a slight bump could grow purple within the next few hours. You get sick nearly weekly and you’re out of breath just by one flight of stairs in the Wangshu Inn. 

Xiao dubbed you as incredibly weak. He might have actually been scared to even approach you because he felt as if one look from him might send you flying, or something.

He asked Verr Goldet “Why did you employ someone so weak?” (It got in the way of your work from time to time)

Verr Goldet answered with a sly smile “Why don’t you get to know ‘em a little and find out?” 

Of course he didn’t do that. 

Until you were the one tasked to bring his daily meal of almond tofu up to the rooftop. 

He understood a bit more. Despite being frail your customer service was top notch. Friendly smile, hard-working and tries your best. 

Xiao secretly thinks that his day is not complete without hearing you say “Mr. Xiao, here’s your Almond Tofu!” 

And then you get sick and some random inn attendant was the one who delivered his almond tofu. It didn’t taste the same.

So Xiao started to look after you:

Meet you halfway down the inn so you didn’t have to go all the way from the kitchen up to the rooftop. “I’ll take it from here,” and grabs the plate of almond tofu from you.

When you’re on cleaning duty and there’s just a huge amount of leaves everywhere a mysterious anemo wind blows them all away.

Secretly watches from afar to gauge your energy levels.

Verr Goldet notices and asks “At this rate, Xiao, perhaps YOU would like to work for the inn instead?”

Xiao doesn’t show up in front of Verr Goldet for WEEKS after that. 

Xiao and you in an established relationship

“I told you to call me if you’re coming up here,” Xiao says, suddenly appearing behind you at the rooftop. You swerve around in alarm and relax when you realize it’s just him. With a smile ever so bright you jog up to him and say “I wanted to surprise you!”

He scoffs. “It isn’t worth it if you feel faint after climbing up so many flights of stairs but...” he examines your face closely, “you seem to have a lot of energy today,” he concludes.

You nod all proud, “I took a quick nap in the afternoon,”

He feels a twitch at his lips, unable to completely control his instincts to grin. “Good.” He lifts a gloved hand and slides it atop your forehead, just checking if you were burning up, or unbelievably cold. Both were bad signs you were going to be sick again. He knew it already. 

Xiao when you actually nearly pass out

He knew something was wrong when you didn’t come to see him during your break time. So, he went looking for you.

He found you in the kitchen with Smiley handing you a glass of water and you looking pale. 

“What happened?” Xiao enquires, strolling over to you and observing that you’re unbelievably pale and sweaty. Still, you try to smile up at him and wave it off. 

“It’s just... it’s a little hotter than usual today,” you finish your water but Smiley steps out of the picture, knowing that Xiao wouldn’t even let a butterfly near you  in your weakened state. 

Xiao growls a little under his breath. “And you think sitting in the kitchen’ll make it better?”

“I just needed some water--”

but he touches your shoulder and in another blink of an eye, you’re out on a hill near the inn. The wind blows a breeze your way and it instantly makes you feel a hundred times better. You sigh as the wind caresses your cheeks, fresh air always made things easier, but then you remember. “Xiao! I’m not on break yet!” your head snapping towards him at the realization.

He has his arms crossed and a blank look on his face. “It doesn’t matter, Verr Goldet will understand,”

Xiao when there’s a huge bruise on you

“Where did you get that?”

Xiao always asked. Always.

Mostly because there was one day, where he found a bruise on your wrist. It was strangely placed, and he realized immediately that it was not from some kind of accident or from hurting yourself. 

Someone laid hands on you.

“Their grip was just a little tight...” you tried to downplay it, “they were a little frustrated with the food and how long they were waiting for it so--”

“I don’t care, point them out,” 

That customer never came back to Wangshu Inn again. 

So, Xiao always had to ask. Always. 

It didn’t mean that it was any better if the bruise was from a small accident, but at least he didn’t have to threaten anyone and chase a customer away. 

“Oh, this is from the door handle. I wasn’t paying attention and just...accidentally hit it with my hand,”

If it was your fault, he’d stare at you. He didn’t look disappointed at all but you knew he was, and you knew what he was going to say next.

“The blacksmith at Liyue Harbour sells armor--”

“I’m not wearing armor while working Xiao!!”

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[folkloreguk]

💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.

[makelemonade]

Being the younger sibling to Signora, Scaramouche and Childe.

GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Mentions of Blood

repost because it refused to show up in the tags. (hopefully it shows up this time)

Reblogs appreciated!

Signora

-When you first became the 12th Harbinger, you were very young.

-She was surprised to see someone so young, but didn’t dwell on it.

-She was a little worried for your safety, though.

-Around many people, she’s not very soft or kind. She only was soft towards the Harbingers in private. She definitely had a softer spot for you, though. She wont show it much in public, but in private she will be the best big sister.

-You had a bad day? She will shower you with affection- She’ll get you gifts, and give you money. But You’ll refuse the money since you literally both have the same job??

-She’ll offer to take you shopping but the last time you were feeling sad, she literally bought everything in 5 stores just to make you feel better and now you have more than 50 plushies in your room.

-So, you ask if you can both just stay inside. You would go on a walk with her but this was Snezhnaya and you’d rather not freeze to death while just trying to spend time with her.

-She’ll make you both some hot chocolate, get snacks, popcorn and the reason for her grabbing all of that is because movie night cuz movie night is awesome.

-she knows every movie you like so you're gonna watch like 10 movies all in one night.

-When baking, you’ll definitely eat the chocolate chips.

-If Signora catches you eating them, she’ll just scowl and say “Only a few.”

-I don’t see her as the type of person to train much unless it was necessary. She would teach you new techniques though and whenever you're training with Childe or Scaramouche, she’ll watch from afar and be the proud big sister.

-If you want to spend time with her in a calm manner, then you’ll both definitely go for tea. I see her as the type of person to know every tea that exists in Teyvat.

-If you ever get hurt, all her walls will break down. She won’t cry or anything, but she will panic a lot. She won’t care that you're both around the other Harbingers once you’re okay, she will immediately be soft around you.

-If you’re still hurt she will force you to rest while another Harbinger or Agent gets a healer.

-If you have long hair, she’ll definitely braid it and play with it. Short hair? She’ll comb/brush it.

-You’ll also brush her hair and help her style it.

-Ruin her hair? She’ll ignore you for a week. Never get food in her hair/start a food fight with her.

-And also NEVER ruin her clothes.

Scaramouche

-He’s the same as Signora.

-He’s surprised to see someone so young, but instead of Signora, he doesn’t really care about it.

-He will definitely be a tad softer towards you but not as soft as Signora is when in private.

-Though, when you get hurt/have a bad day he’s gonna be a little bit soft.

-His version of soft is just not being mean to you as much as he usually is.

-He isn’t very good at comfort, so don’t expect as many gifts you get from Signora.

-He has his own version of comfort. If a guy/girl broke up with you, he’d say:

-”You’re really gonna cry over them? They don’t deserve you- You’re a lot better than them. I’m sure there’s someone who’s way better than them out there. You don’t need a low-level person like them.”

-If you really do need it, then of course he’ll give you a hug but only for 5 seconds.

-He will absolutely find whoever broke your heart. If they’re a guy then OH they better watch out. If they’re a girl then he’ll get Signora.

-If you’re ever interested, he’ll tell you everything he knows about Inazuma. He will, of course, talk shit about the Raiden Shogun.

-If you show interest in it’s fashion and culture, he will definitely sneak back into Inazuma since he does it all the time and get you everything he can find there. Clothes, souvenirs, etc.

-He might even get you the hat he has.

-When he comes back and you see that all of that stuff is for you, you will hug him for more than 5 seconds.

-He will obviously say “It’s been 5 seconds” if you don’t let go, but he also won’t let go because he likes it.

-He’s touch starved oKAY.

-Please just give him hugs, he needs them.

-When baking, if he catches you eating some of the chocolate chips, he will use his Electro Vision on your hand- Not in a painful way, though. More in a ticklish way.

-He might even eat one too.

-I feel like he also knows a lot about Tea- seeing as Inazuma has a lot of tea house’s- Such as Komore Teahouse (?). So, he will either get tea with you or just make some if you’re not feeling like going out in the cold of Snezhnaya.

-When you get hurt, he’ll panic a little and find a healer immediately. He won’t stay by your side the entire time though- instead, he goes to find the treasure hoarders who hurt you and electrocutes them all.

Childe

-The moment he sees how young you are, his big brother instincts will kick in.

-You were so small and adorable!! Though, aside from all the cooing, he was a little worried for you. You reminded him of how young he was when he first joined.

-Because of that- this man will not leave you alone. He says it’s too protect you, despite being able to protect yourself.

-He knows you can protect yourself! You just remind him too much of your siblings.

-Though, if it really does start to get annoying, he will stop.

-Will train with you all the time and teach you new techniques.

-He’s worse than Signora when it comes to gifts.

-When he’s getting gifts/souvenirs for his siblings, he will immediately think of you and buy you EVERYTHING in every store he can find.

-You tell him that you don’t need that many gifts, but he says “nonsense” and KEEPS buying you gifts.

-You were grateful, but it did become a little too much.

-He’s very soft towards you. Doesn’t matter if it’s in public or private, get ready to be hugged a lot.

-He already considers you as family, and even sometimes refers to you as his little sibling.

-He’ll even introduce you to his siblings!

-If you ever get hurt, it breaks his heart at how you look: Bruised up and bloody.

-You were his family and he couldn’t protect you: It’s why he’s ALWAYS by your side- to protect you.

-He’ll be hesitant to leave your side once a healer comes, but he has to so he can kill whoever hurt you.

-Almost every camp of treasure hoarders is wiped out by the next day.

-When he catches you eating the chocolate chips while baking, he will eat them with you- to the point where he has to go buy more chocolate chips.

-Doesn’t know much about tea, so he will probably ask Zhongli whenever the two of you’re in Liyue and he’ll take you both to a teahouse.

-All in all, he, Scaramouche and Signora love you very much. You're their family.

[peakyblindersxx]

come home with me - finn shelby x reader

a/n: you have @michaelgreys to thank for this one (& the gif!!! check her out she's amazing). s5 finn cause god damn!!1 i honestly dont have much to say about this one other than it's definitely self indulgent and not even god can help me at this point. i'm working on p4 to whiskey buisness rn as well as some requests, thank you for all the sweet comments!!

love, abi xxx

my masterlist

prompt: finn hates you so much he might want to fuck you.

warnings: nsfw!! smut, pretty fluffy cause he's baby 🥺

Working for the Shelby Company wasn’t difficult, except for one thing: Finn Shelby. You were one of the many secretaries, in charge of conveying messages, filing papers, and many other important things, such as making sure the glass decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in Tommy’s office was never empty. It wasn’t a very taxing job, but Finn went out of his way to get under your skin in every way he could. Maybe it was the fact that you wouldn’t back down, having a quick retort to anything close to disrespectful that he said to you. The other brothers never said a thing to intervene, Arthur even telling you he was glad you had a backbone.

“Finn’s a cocky thing, eh? Too cocky for his own good. A girl like you’ll put ‘im in his place,” he had slurred, while you collected the letters he’d asked you to mail.

“Dunno, Mr. Shelby,” you’d mused. “Seems like he’s got some sort of problem with me.”

“Don’t even bother with that, he’s just an arrogant fuck. Probably got some sort of crush on you an’ is too shy to do shit about it. You know, first time he fucked a whore, he said sorry,” Arthur grunted. You’d chalked up his admissions to the half empty bottle of whiskey that he was clutching and the light dusting of snow on his right nostril. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if the looks Finn shot your way, though seemingly out of irritation, meant something more. You couldn’t lie, you’d thought about what it’d be like to feel the youngest Shelby brother’s bow-shaped lips on your neck, his hands on your waist. It couldn’t be true, you resolved; Arthur was just wasted and you were delusional.

Monday came, and Tommy had asked you to work in the betting shop for the next few weeks. “Make sure Finn’s not fucking up,” he had grunted, taking a long drag of his cigarette, clear blue eyes barely leaving the stacks of paper that littered his massive desk. Of course you’d agreed, but you were nervous. Something about it made your heart beat faster in your chest. You took a shot of whiskey before you left, hoping the dark liquor would help calm your nerves. Isaiah insisted on accompanying you, telling you there were too many people that didn’t like them around there and to make sure someone was always with you for the next few weeks. You were grateful for his presence, the jokes he cracked easing your mind as the two of you walked briskly along the cobblestone streets. It didn’t take long to get there, Isaiah holding the door open for you as the warm air inside the betting office washed over you. Finn turned to see who it was, a scowl tugging at the edges of his mouth once he saw you.

“Why the fuck is she here,” he drawled, sitting at his desk with his feet up, a half-finished cigarette dangling from his fingertips. As much as you hated to admit it, he looked fucking good, hair neatly combed back, smelling of expensive cologne in a pressed navy blue suit. He was tall, legs stretching across the desk as he sent a glare in your direction, you rolling your eyes in response.

“Tommy said,” Isaiah interjected, sensing the tension in the air. “He said you said you needed more help, or somethin’.”

“Fuckin’ christ,” Finn mumbled, taking a drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the crystal ashtray that sat on his desk, standing to grab a stack of books from one of the shelves behind him.

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the fucking plauge or something,” you retorted, Isaiah stifling his chuckle as he looked anywhere but at the two of you. Finn ignored you, instead setting the pile of books on his desk.

“Come look at this, before I change my mind,” he said, instead. You obliged, walking behind his desk to see what he was gesturing to as Isaiah excused himself, something about “gettin’ fucking plastered, mate!” Finn was easily a head taller than you, so he practically towered over you, engulfing you in a cloud of his intoxicating cologne as you stood so close to him that you could practically feel the heat emanating from his body.

“So, these are the bets, and those are the outcomes,” he explained, arm brushing against your body slightly as he pointed to the different columns written out in the log. To your chagrin, your skin prickled in response, your body unable to control itself. Yet, you pushed it down, not wanting to give Finn the satisfaction of knowing that you wanted him. God knows he’d hold it against you forever. What he was explaining was simple enough, and you were able to grasp it fairly quickly. He was all business, handing you the logs he needed you to double check, as you sank into the desk adjacent to his, pouring over the books and coming to him to confirm small corrections.

However, after a couple of drinks of whiskey (some of which you admittedly consumed), Finn started talking. Small things, like how irritating Tommy was or how much they’d made off a certain horse. He’d never opened up to you like this; it was always a snide remark that usually set off an argument, since the two of you were fairly hot-headed. This time, it was different. Finn was still looking at you, but with slightly rosy cheeks and a smile threatening to spread across his face every time you made a witty remark. This time, you liked the way he was looking at you.

***

Two thirds of a bottle later, you were both on the floor in front of the fire, laughing at something Finn had said. Admittedly, he had said it just to see you laugh. He liked when you laughed, he realized. It was much better than the irritated look on your face that he usually saw. In all honesty, it was probably his fault, he thought to himself. Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but he really wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. You sat next to him, shoulders brushing as the two of you talked, your jacket long abandoned, revealing the flimsy straps of the black lace dress. You looked so fucking pretty, he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that, right? Always wondered why you hung ‘round us lot, bunch of mean fuckers.” The words fell out of his mouth, hovering in the air between the two of you. You stared at him, slightly taken aback, but the liquor was doing the talking for both of you, it seemed.

“Look who’s fucking talking. Half the girls in Brum would gladly fuck you, even just for a night.”

Finn paused, lighting a cigarette and offering you a drag.“What about you?”

You accepted, taking a puff before passing it back. “What about me?”

He cracked a grin. “Would you fuck me?”

His bluntness took you aback, but you were too far gone to think properly. “Maybe,” you admitted, a coy smile playing at your lips. Finn’s eyes darkened, closing the distance between the two of you until his body was almost touching yours, the tension between you crackling like the fire just a few feet away.

“What about now?” he muttered, lips brushing ever so slightly against your neck, causing you to shiver. He noticed, his hands finding the curve of your hips, searing through your dress. You couldn’t help but tilt your neck back slightly, a gasp leaving your lips as Finn pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin.

“Finn,” you moaned quietly, the smile on his lips growing wider as his hands fiddled with the hem of your dress, fingertips sliding underneath to grip lightly at the soft skin of your thighs. “Fuckin’ do something already, christ.”

Finn grinned. “Always got a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? You’re lucky I find that attractive,” he teased. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, his fingers found your silk panties, pushing them to the side to rub lightly against your clit, causing you to jolt in pleasure. You were already wet, to Finn’s satisfaction, and he had no trouble pushing a finger inside of you. The moans that were leaving your mouth were sinful, and he savored each one, watching the way you squirmed when he added another, curling them inside of you.

“Look so goddamn pretty, stuffed full of my fingers,” he crooned, sending your eyes rolling back in your head, eyelashes fluttering.

“Finn, please,” you whined, his nimble fingers deftly unzipping your dress and sliding it off, leaving you in your black silk bra and panties. Finn paused, taking a second to drink you in before pressing his lips to yours. They were softer than you could have imagined, hands gripping at your waist as he tugged at your bottom lip for access. You let him in, melting at his touch like butter.

“Want you inside me,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his muscles to stiffen as he sprang into action, pulling you on top of him, lining his already hard cock up with you. He was big, and if you weren’t already so ready for him, you might have been a little nervous. He slowly pushed inside of you, helping you sink down on top of him with one hand as he swore under his breath, using his other hand to unhook your bra, throwing it to the side and exposing your breasts to the cool air, nipples hardening at his touch.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Finn growled, unable to resist from taking one of them into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth. The sound you made in response was pathetic, but fuck if it wasn’t fueling his appetite for you. He couldn’t help but push up into you, a tight grip on your hipbones, holding you up as he rammed into you, cock pressing up against your g-spot, sending your vision spinning.

“Fuck, Finn, m’gonna cum,” you cried, eyes sqeezed shut, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure he was giving you. Finn grunted, somehow increasing his pace, pressing kisses to wherever he could.

“Go ahead darlin’, want you to cum all over my cock,” he cajoled, the words sending waves of pleasure through you. You couldn’t help but follow his orders, colors flickering across your eyesight. The image of you cumming just for him sent Finn over the edge, groaning your name as he finished inside of you, dripping down the inside of your thighs. You looked so fucking angelic in the firelight, he had the sudden urge to take care of you.

“Y’alright?” He asked, reaching for a rag to clean you up. You nodded, smiling softly down at him as he couldn’t help but press a kiss to your hipbone. He looked up at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Come home with me?” Finn murmured, hands fidgeting.

“Yeah,” you replied, a glow tinging your cheeks as you looked at him the same. “Let’s go home.”