#pretty little burden

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Not your Burden Pt. 1

Idea | Previous Part

tw: future dom-sub relationship, sexually explicit content, pet names, age gap (early twenties - late thirties)

The moment your eyes connected, you felt the typical blush rise onto your cheeks. The blush that always seemed to come when Mister Riley was nearby. He smiled down at you, the lower half of his face hidden behind a surgical mask, as always, but the crinkle around his eyes betrayed him.

With a quiet mumble of your name and a hand on your lower back, he ushered you forward, until you stood at the other end of the counter, where you had to wait for your drink. Meanwhile, his hand didn’t move, only pulling you against him whenever other people got too close. You tried to tell yourself that this, his behavior, his…almost possessiveness, meant nothing. He was just being nice and polite as always. Just keeping you safe, even if there was no threat nearby.

When you finally received your drink, Mister Riley led you back to your table - you didn’t question how he knew where you were sitting. “How are you doing, love?” Mister Riley got comfortable, taking off his black wool coat and hanging it over the back of the chair next to his, before resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. You on the other hand shifted nervously. All the hope that your little crush had faded in the last few years was gone.

The way he was looking at you sent your heart into a frenzy, beating as if you were running a marathon, when you were just sitting across from him in a cafe. Not even four years of not seeing him could stop the effect he had on you.

When he suddenly raised an eyebrow, you realized you never answered his question. “Oh, uhm…I’m good. A bit stressed, but that’s it.” You tried to smile but weren’t sure if it reached your eyes. By the look he gave you, you could tell that it didn’t. “What about you, sir?” He chuckled, the low sound reverberating in your heart. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Simon, huh?” Your face flushed again and you wished you could see his grin through his mask. A stammered answer fell from your lips, but he interrupted you, the joyful expression replaced by a frown.

“What’s stressing you, little one?” The look in his eyes was intense, as if he was ready to kill whatever dared to stress you and the nickname didn’t help the butterflies in your stomach. This means nothing. He’s not interested, goddamnit! Your eyes found a weird carved-in spot on the table in front of you. It was suddenly very interesting. “Oh, you know…just college.” You dared to glance up, just to see his frown deepen, clearly not believing a word you were saying. Suddenly, that one weird, carved spot on the table became incredibly interesting. As you were lightly tracing it with the tip of your right index finger, he reached across the table and gently tilted your head to look up at him. “What’s really going on?” A heavy sigh left your lips before everything just spilled out of you.

How your father just disappeared and stopped sending you the money you needed for the apartment and everything else. How you had to move into the worst part of town ever and how you’ve been looking for a job ever since. You tried to hide just how desperate you were, he didn’t have to know that you had a fantastic ten pounds left in your account right now. And you had already tapped into your savings. Sadly you needed your father’s permission to tap into the fund he had sat up for you.

Mister Ril- Simon listened quietly, concern evident on his face as you jumped from one issue to the next. And when you were done, he pulled out his wallet. Your eyes widened immediately and you started to shake your head as he held out what looked like a credit card. “No, no. Mister Riley, no, I can’t accept that, I-”, before you could continue your protests, his fingers closed around your chin again and held your mouth shut. “You’re going to be a good girl, take this card and say thank you, okay? And call me Simon.”

Heat immediately rushed to your core, the gravely tone doing something to you, as you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. With the tight grip on you, you couldn’t move your head too much, but it was just enough for a slight nod. A grin formed under that mask again and he let go, pulling his hand back, but not without letting his fingers linger slightly. “Good girl.”

You swallowed again, noticing how his eyes immediately jumped to your throat. In the moment you weren’t sure if you imagined them turning darker for just a moment before he looked back into your eyes. The two of you held the eye contact for a few moments, before you broke it, once again looking down at that one spot. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness in the air disappearing when he started talking again.

“I want you to use that card for whatever you need, okay? You’re in college, I want you to concentrate on your studies, you hear me? And if you need more, just say the word.” You nodded again, already knowing that you’d continue with your job hunt as soon as he left. And that you would definitely not be using that card for, like, anything. As much as you appreciated him wanting to help, you knew that you could do it on your own.

“Also, about that apartment-” He was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor of the cafe. Both of you looked up as a gorgeous woman, similar age to his, walked up, smiling, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you almost done, dear? We still have that meeting with-”, she glanced at you and quickly corrected herself. “-that meeting we have to get to.” Your eyes immediately focused on the sparkling ring on her finger. It was beautiful, even if a little too sparkly for you. Simon looked up at her and smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ll be right out. Tell Johnny to keep the engine on.” The woman nodded and smiled one more time at you before she left.

She seemed kind, but the jealousy that bubbled in your veins wanted you to hate her. From what you had just witnessed, you doubted you could. “I’m sorry, but she’s right, I have to go. Give me your phone.” Too stunned to do anything but comply, you unlocked it and handed it to him. He quickly put something - his number you assumed - and rung himself, before handing it back. He stood up and put on his coat, looking at you one more time. “Ring me if you ever need something, okay? And be a good girl and do as you’re told.” He leaned over, grasping your chin one last time and making you look at him. You weakly nodded, your mind still hung up on the gorgeous wife of his.

His eyes narrowed, but after a second of hesitation, he too nodded, before pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek, through his mask. “Be good.” And with those words, he pulled back, turned around, and left the cafe, while you just sat there, staring at the door he walked through and thinking to yourself ‘the fuck was that’.

Next Part

A/N: Really enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like it!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld @msjaeger @oreojenni @starlightmoon2020 @piconico17 @l1lpip @originalsoulcollector

[shitty-skyblings-doodles-daily]

today, it’s pearl’s turn to yap! grian and jimmy just got to know a lot more moth facts!

[rmbunnie]

I'm reading A Lonely Place of Dying and Alfred latching immediately onto Tim is NASTY work. Tim shows up and is like "I never aimed to be Robin! I mean I did karate my whole life to emulate Robin and just so happen to have sought you out and grabbed this costume in my size out from that case and really you should be calling me Robin just for now and let me come with you as Robin but I never dreamed it would specifically be ME being Robin. You have a lovely house and home btw :) Now go back to being 10." And Dick's understandably like "No I am a grown man now who are you" and Bruce is not here for this one, but later on is like "You aren't Robin, you're some kid dressed up like my dead son." But Alfred?

IMMEDIATELY Alfred is implying Dick was trying to subtly ask Tim to be Robin (simply not true in in NTT 61, when the implication is made, although he changes his mind in Batman 442) and that Bruce should be grateful for this young man's profound bravery and immense natural skill and maybe show him a few pointers or something idk we'll see :) Like let's be clear, the idea that Tim didn't want to be Robin is simply not part of this story outside of like two lines of dialogue where he's like "oh I didn't consider it could be me!" after which he immediately goes "Wow so you ARE gonna let me be Robin right?" the second he sees the opportunity. The guy essentially makes himself Robin once Dick makes it clear he isn't gonna be. Dick tells Tim nobody should be at first (until he changes his mind) but is ignored because Tim doesn't get why and goes with what he understands, his own stance.

I'm of the opinion that the whole "Tim understands that being Robin is an arduous task full of suffering from the start and chooses to bravely yet sadly martyr himself for the cause" thing I see sometimes is strongly disproven, at least in the beginning of his Robin career, by his "Batman NEEDS a Robin (to love and care for and to watch out for him in return :) )" line of reasoning, his subsequent willingness for Anybody to be Robin whether or not it was him (unless he was consciously okay with other children suffering for his benefit which I find really hard to believe,) and his active glee at anything involving being Robin and persistent smiling pursuit of Doing So against Batman's strong disapproval, because he hasn't officially said no (he did several times, but you can't blame a kid for being excited.) Like, I think he said he never dreamed of being Robin just because having a kid come in begging to replace Batman's dead son because it was a personal aspiration would be extraordinarily rude and arrogant and they wanted people to like this one. He was NOT in any way adverse they just couldn't make him THAT presumptuous, and he is by nature of what he's doing already moderately so.

But say it was true, that Tim was actively opposed to being Robin? Alfred would be pushing this shit HARD onto this thirteen year old kid like what the fuck bro. And "From what Master Richard said, he follows your orders." is HEINOUS but let's not get into that.

[cherry-treelane]

There's something so poetic about how El is the centre of all the chaos, wanted by the government and military and Mike is her strong calm that doesn't hesitate to get sucked into her storm and stand by her side in the face of any conflict. Like guys. This little boy did not hesitate to protect her and stand off in the face of the government to defend her, going against all the typical patriotic rule-following norms of an American Suburbanite Middle class nuclear family. He comes from pure safe normalcy but doesn't hesitate to run in the other direction heading towards chaos and danger if it means she's there... because he feels safest with her and is driven by the instinct to protect her. 😭🩷 There's something so beautiful and inspiring about someone as hurt and troubled and chaotic as El being loved in such a simple, unconditional way. Mike doesn't see her for the chaos she represents which surrounds her, he sees her for the innocent goodness that she actually is— her calm, gentle demeanour and the warmth it makes him feel. He understands that all the danger that comes with being with her is through no fault of her own, and actively works to help combat all the forces against her. He knows that despite being the centre of the chaos she's not the cause of it, she's the remedy for the effect of it and that is an undeserved, exhausting punishment yet a burden she bears regardless without complaint— a sign of her innate goodness which Mike recognises and loves her for all the more. Even moreso, he works to share that burden with her and criticise it because he sees how innocent and undeserving she is of the responsibility infringed upon her. His willingness to take all of this on is so wholesome and exactly the kind of sweet effort-full love that a character like El deserves, which is so gratifying for the audience to see.

[javierduffy]

“uh … it’s a bit girly … no?” javier examines himself in the reflection of his knife’s blade, looking this-a way and that, the dark blue of a large silken bow now peeking sheepishly around his neck as it sits gently in his hair. next to him, kieran clams up a smidge, hands still held close to his chest nearby his completed ribbon project on javier’s head. he finds it in himself to wring his hands a time or two rather than immediately undo his work as javier seems to continue to formulate his final opinion. “you … think so? look at me?” kieran asks, politely as a mouse. javier easily complies, turns at his hips and looks behind, up at kieran where he sits on the stump above him.

kieran, as he peers over, can’t help the meadow of flush that blooms over his neck, then his ears, then his nose and his cheeks. he can tell javier is deep in thought by the look on his face, mouth twisted just a might sideways, cocking his mustache awry, and the deep wrinkle sat between his brows. the ribbon he used matches javier’s vest perfectly, and the shine of the silk warms bright in the sun, just like every piece of jewelry and metal javier has adorned himself with. with this ribbon, javier’s hair sits lower on his head, ponytail draped down his nape and more hair framing his face in his bangs. kieran resists an urge to tuck one side back behind his ear.

kieran thinks that he looks like a painting, a muse, a love letter so heartbreakingly full of adoration that the only language it could be written in is bright swipes of pigment on a canvas. as he makes eye contact with the silk squinting around the red of a necktie, he thinks that javier may be right, if ‘girly’ could sum up ’poetry written in effeminate reverence’.

kieran always did think women made better art, wrote better books- found a better way to love. softer. warmer. prettier. like javier.

the world sounds like it’s underwater.

“i think … it’s very pretty. it suits you real well.”

earnest to a fault, the look in kieran’s eye dances gingerly with javier’s internal voice. it dips and sways him, and javier, despite his instinct, finds himself charmed by its rhythm.

“-b-but! i could take it out! if you don’t-“ javier looks down at himself in his knife again, the sunlight filtered through the leaves glinting a yellow green around his dark features, and kieran hands him patience on a silver platter. a rich blue makes friends with bright green quite easy, javier thinks. this is how he must look through kieran’s mossy lens.

“pretty … yes. you know, i think you may be right. i’ll keep it. gracias.”

[shorthaltsjester]

sometimes people will say “going dark” and then what they’re actually talking about is just people no longer presenting a carefully constructed version of their emotions and experiences.

like. emotional turmoil is not the same as darkness. laudna in this Fictional Universe that has tangibly different stakes wrt to death and killing than our own, is at best like . morally neutral for what she just did like. man has been secretly trying to kill you, and then just tried to do so again, killing him back is a fair choice. and even if i was someone who is excited by delilah’s inability to escape from the narrative, this shit isn’t about delilah. laudna made a choice. if delilah is back or whatever it’s a choice that laudna made because something in that grants her more control than her existing conditions did. this isn’t some Delilah Takes Over, it’s Laudna Expressly Makes The Choice To Call Forth Something within Herself to remedy the lack of control that’s been thrust upon her. if y’all want to Continue to limit Laudna’s agency (as the cr fandom is so, so want to do when a female character makes a choice that isn’t Good according to some weird system of virtue ethics) go ahead.

likewise with orym. little guy is not “going dark” because he has finally made direct action about his emotional turmoil in dealing with a situation which has similarly left him without control and has also placed him in a position where his stalwart conviction towards protecting and honouring those he loves and has lost alike is constantly met with other people he cares for going well.. what if they had a point/we are killing other peoples loved ones/etc. which like . yeah that might be frustrating and in fact might lead him to go, actually, i can’t afford to try and maintain some abject morality where I carry a locket that will literally only provide guilt. orym is completely committed to his beliefs, the locket and what it represents has never been a limit to what he will do, only a reminder of the consequences of what he might cause in those actions. but they Are at war and orym has a billion things on his plate. he can put down the locket. especially when bor’dor is the explicit manifestation of that locket’s symbolism. the subtext rapidly became the text and orym doesn’t need a reminder. it’s there in the fact that team issylra is walking away with two friends, not three.

these are character who have at every turn denied their own emotions in various forms while still being acutely aware of what they deny, whether that awareness was/is fully realized or not. many of laudna’s early convos with ashton show us that there is some awareness to the lighthearted spooky goth girl and how that persona fades when she thinks too much about what has led her and maintained that reality. likewise the entirety of orym’s story thus far is defined by his grief in a very literal sense, it Has extended from that grief to also the commitment he had to the purpose of figuring out the assassination attempt on keyleth but as we have seen, that purpose has fallen apart. paired with the quasi-reopening of his grief that was getting to see will again only to have to turn away, i don’t think there’s a lack of awareness in orym of how much he hurts. but between his actions and 4SD, that hurt tends to get buried under guilt or Responsibility.

and now, finally, both of them have admitted to that Not in the safety of small introspection or one-on-one conversations but with actions that they cannot shy away from or deny. laudna killed bor’dor and orym encouraged her to. and it Is a complex situation but truly I don’t really think it’s a “going dark” one. because they’re not giving into some overhanging Darkness of Morality™, they’re admitting that they are hurt and have long been hurting.

or, y’know, tldr for those who continue to deny laudna and orym agency or fully villainise them for whatever weird reasons . you could listen to laudna and ashton’s conversation that pretty much lays it out explicitly. laudna claims she’s weak for having chosen to kill bor’dor. ashton denies that and affirms instead that, no, she’s hurt.

[peachyhoneyadventures]

EDOLISSE AND VARRICK

These Hands, If Not Gods by Natalie Diaz | Still from When A Man Loves (1927) | Snippet from Richard Siken's "Crush" | Still from Lodger (???) | Poem from Margaret Atwood's "You are Happy"

[lord-squiggletits]

A poll for other Tarn lovers because I keep thinking about it and am curious

I would've put an option for Tarn being ugly but I'm worried people who don't even like Tarn would pick that just as a meme answer to make fun of him so sorry.

Also yes I know we've seen his face in the comics but I'm asking for personal headcanons independent of how the characters are drawn (which can vary depending on the artist/style) in canon.

Mainly asking because in a lot of art I see of maskless Tarn (drawn by people I know or just random artists online), it seems like a lot of the time Tarn is drawn with a rather beautiful/bishie face and now I'm just curious if people specifically see Tarn as having a prettyboy face or if it's just some sort of art style thing/coincidence.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Not your Burden Pt. 4

Idea | Previous Part

Confusion filled you as you woke up to unfamiliar surroundings, although you couldn’t deny that it was a definite upgrade to your last few living situations. The bed you laid in was easily queen-sized with the most comfortable mattress you had ever even tried. The rest of the room was filled with dark, wooden furniture and minimal decoration. You saw a dresser, multiple bookshelves, a vanity, and a desk with a comfortable-looking office chair. There was also a really cozy reading chair you couldn’t wait to bundle up in with a good book and some hot chocolate. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought.

A soft knock ripped you from your thoughts and you found yourself sitting up straight. “Yes?” The door opened and you saw Simon’s wife peeking her head in, a soft smile on her face. “Ah, good. You’re awake.” Gracefully, she opened the door further before stepping in with a tray in hand. On it were three plates, two mugs, and a glass. And it smelled phenomenal. “Hope you’re hungry. Si had the chefs work overtime, said these were your favorites when you were younger.”

She sat the tray down on your lap and it took everything in you to stop from drooling. One plate was filled with your favorite savory breakfast, another with a sweet variant, and the third with a variety of fresh fruit. The first mug you looked at clearly contained the most delicious looking hot chocolate, the other your favorite caffeinated warm drink. And the glass was filled with what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice.

You looked up at the woman and smiled right back, quietly thanking her before digging in. She watched you eat for a few moments, a motherly love wafting off of her before she stood up. For a second you thought she was going to leave and were about to protest, but instead, she walked to one of the two other doors in the room, that you hadn’t explored yet. You had assumed that one led to an en-suite bathroom but were clueless about the other one. But the moment the woman opened the door and turned on the lights, you knew what was behind it. A gigantic walk-in closet. And from the looks of it, it was fully stocked.

“I hope you like what I picked out. I’m sorry if not, it was very last minute and Simon wasn’t helpful when I asked what kind of style you liked, so I picked a little bit of everything.” She grabbed something and walked back to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed before showing it to you. It was a brand new version of your current backpack, the same style and color, which confused you since the style was supposed to be a limited edition and no longer being sold. But here it was, brand new. The woman quickly noticed your confusion and chuckled. God, even her chuckle sounded flawless.

“I have connections, don’t worry about it. Simon said to buy something more expensive, something designer, you know? But I thought you’d rather keep it a bit lowkey.” You nodded and swallowed the bite of pure deliciousness in your mouth before speaking. “Yeah…thank you uhm…I’m sorry, what’s your name?” She rolled her eyes and playfully glared at the wall connected to the hallway. “Simon and his manners. He could have introduced me.” With a playful scoff, she turned back to look at you, reaching out her hand. “I’m Amanda.” You shook it, giving your own name, although you assumed she already knew it.

Before you could continue your chat, another knock came from the door and you once again called out. This time it was Simon who poked his head in. “Good, you’re eating.” As soon as he fully stepped into the room, Amanda got to her feet. “Well, I’ll give you two some privacy. See you later.” She winked at you before leaving the room and closing the door behind herself. Simon watched her leave, before approaching you. “Did you sleep well?” You nodded, your mouth full again. The sight brought a smile to his face. “You have always put so much food in your mouth that your cheeks would stick out.” He chuckled, sitting down where just a few moments before his wife had been.

Immediately you swallowed, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Simon, of course, noticed and reached out, wiping some crumbs from the corner of your lips while staring at them. “Don’t. It’s cute.” You felt your cheeks grow even hotter, quickly looking away, making him chuckle. He pulled his hand back, his eyes flickering up to yours, before he looked away again, reaching for his phone. “Finish breakfast, I’ll show you around afterward.” You watched as he got to his feet and walked to your closet, looking around. But the food in front of you demanded your attention and for a few moments, you even forgot he was there. At least until Simon walked back out of the closet with some clothes draped over his arm. He put them on your dresser before looking at you again. “Call me when you’re done, I have to take care of something.” You simply nodded, before he left the room.

In peace, you finished your breakfast, before you took the chance to explore the room a bit. The dresser was filled with all kinds of underwear, socks, tights, leggings, and workout clothes. On the vanity, you found a bunch of high-end skincare and makeup, everything in your shade and perfect for your skin. As you took it all in, you wondered how the hell they got all of this perfectly, but at the same time, you knew that worrying about it made no sense.

On the desk, you found what looked like a brand new PC with two monitors, as well as a brand new laptop and tablet. When you turned them on, you found them fully charged and already set up with all your documents, pictures, et cetera on them. At least you could explain that away since you had left your old laptop in your backpack. Well, how they found out your password was a mystery. Besides the tech, you found all your textbooks and a bunch of notebooks and pens. In the drawers, you found all different kinds of stationary, from index stickers to highlighters. You basically had everything you needed for college.

Not being able to resist temptation, you sank down into the office chair and sighed in relief. It was amazingly comfortable, much better than the hard wooden thing you had at your old apartment.

Happily, you walked to the en suite bathroom, finding a rain shower, a massive tub with what looked like jets so you could use it like a whirlpool, and an abundance of skin and hair care products, as well as the softest towels and bathrobe you had ever felt.

The last thing on your list was the walk-in closet and you had to admit that you were kind of scared of entering it. Only then did you realize that you weren’t wearing what you had on yesterday, instead you were clad in some of the pajamas you had packed. You felt a blush creep up on your face as you pictured Simon undressing you, changing your clothes, and seeing you naked. And what felt even more embarrassing, was knowing that he had gone through your stuff. Suddenly, you remembered your vibrator and with a speed you had never experienced before, rushed to your suitcase, which was lying open on the floor. You dug through it, looking for the white object, but couldn’t find it. Which meant…that he must have found it and put it away. The thought mortified you and you couldn’t help but wish a black hole would open underneath you and swallow you.

After wallowing in self-pity and embarrassment, you focused on the task at hand and opened the doors to the closet, the lights coming on automatically. And what you saw stunned you.

Shirts, jeans, pants, skirts, dresses, hoodies, jumpers, shoes, bags, other accessories, and more, in all kinds of colors, all looking like they would fit your perfectly. Slowly, you entered and started to explore, running your fingers over the fabrics and pulling some things out to take a closer look.

Besides sun dresses and some thicker ones for colder temperatures, you also found stunning cocktail and evening dresses, as well as a few ballgowns. What the hell were you going to use ballgowns for? Before you could ponder that question for too long, you walked back to the bedroom and approached the dresser, checking out what Simon had picked out for you.

It was quite simple, some underwear, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie. He had also brought out a pair of sneakers to put on. All in all, the outfit was comfortable and looked well put together.

By the time you were dressed, someone knocked on your door again and you quickly jumped over to open it, finding the driver on the other side. “Guid, you’re dressed.” Why does everyone here start their sentence with good? “Yeah, why?” He smiled and reached out his hand. “I’m Johnny, basically Simon’s right-hand man.” You frowned. “He said that Amanda is his right-hand-woman.” A frown flickered across the man’s face before it was quickly replaced by a smile again. “Well, then ’m his left-hand man.” A grin spread across his face and you got the distinct feeling that he was very proud of himself in that moment.

Before you could ask why he was there, a deep growl sounded from your right, down the hallway and when you glanced out, you saw Simon stalking toward you two. “I told you to bring her to me, not chat her up.” Johnny just chuckled and stepped to the side, as Simon reached for your hand and turned around again, pulling you with him. As you were dragged along, you glanced behind you, finding Johnny grinning and waving, before closing the door to your room and disappearing in the other direction.

While leading you through the mansion, you heard Simon grumbling under his breath, something about a “bloody Scott” and a “chatty arsehole”. You quietly chuckled behind him, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks as he glanced at you over his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

He sadly let go of your hand, once you stepped inside what looked like his office. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of your back and steered you to one of the chairs in front of his desk. While you sat down, he rounded the desk and sat down in his chair. “I just wanted to go over some rules for while you’re staying here.” You nodded, scooting forward a bit and pushing your hands between the chair and your thighs.

“Good. I want to know your schedule. If you have it on a calendar, just share it with me. If you want to do anything outside of it, like go out with friends, I want you to let me know, okay? I also want your location at all times.” You nodded, and so far it sounded only slightly ridiculous. “You can’t bring any friends over without my permission, and no boys. I don’t want you sleeping anywhere else but here, even if you text me the address, et cetera. I already went ahead and updated your address and emergency contacts wherever necessary. If you need or want anything, either just buy it with the card you have or ask, it’s usually no problem. And I will make my threat come true if I see that you’re not using the card.” You nodded again. Again, it didn’t sound too bad, although the last bit made you clench your thighs, as heat started to gather in your core. “Also, as promised, if you keep your grades up, I’ll help you find a job. But if I think that it’s bad for you in any kind, way, shape, or form, you’ll quit. And the last thing, if I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?” You swallowed but quickly nodded when you noticed him raising an eyebrow. “Good girl.”

Simon stood up and you watched as he walked around the desk and leaned against it, right in front of you. He studied you for a few moments, before motioning for you to stand up. “Come, I’ll give you a tour.”

Next Part

A/N: I know I said I was gonna take a break, but writing has been a good distraction, so here you go!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld @msjaeger @oreojenni @starlightmoon2020 @piconico17 @l1lpip @originalsoulcollector @ig-you-idiot @corvusmorte @ohdrey89 @dreamland08 @dprmoon @lilynotdilly @blinca @weirdducky17 @hidden-treasures21 @scaryplanetdestroyer @aikeia @kurochan3

[cicada-candy]

I get the sense that Nina is gonna haunt the next season.

[catacini]

man. oberon saying "i'm sorry i couldn't get rid of those proper human history bastards for you, titania" after he's already conflated guda with titania. what does it all mean.

[notmoreflippingelves]

Shi Long Lang insisting all of his agents identify themselves as "1" during team countoffs, and Manfred von Karma setting his bank PIN to #1 have the same and yet opposite energies.

[whydoifeelthisquiet]

Being abled sounds so nice tbh

[no-context-nonsense]

Busy week, but still so much to cry about.

[rottingbibliophile]

I will cradle him and his evil.

Nicci Harris, His Pretty Little Queen

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Not your Burden Pt. 5

Idea | Previous Part

tw: future dom-sub relationship, sexually explicit content, pet names, age gap (early twenties - late thirties)

The house was huge. Huge enough for you to be confused after just walking for a few minutes and rounding only three corners. There were doors everywhere, but barely any of them were labeled. And during the few minutes you had walked, you had counted three different staircases. Simon quickly noticed and chuckled lowly. “You’ll get used to it. And if you get lost, either ask someone you see for help or stay where you are and call me, and I’ll pick you up.” You nodded, a blush forming on your cheeks, as his eyes were trained on you. Especially when you noticed how his eyes darkened as they flickered from yours to your lips.

But he shook it off, turning back around and continuing the tour. You just managed to remember the most important spots: the kitchen, the indoor gym and pool, the way to the garden, where there was another pool, his office, the library, and your room. Maybe you’d make your own little map at some point.

“And this is the gun range.” Your eyes widened as you glanced past Simon’s massive frame. It looked just like in the movies and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were allowed to try out shooting here as well. “Ah, Boss, bonnie.” Johnny grinned as you spun around to look at him. The scott nodded at Simon before gently pushing past you, stopping once he was through the door. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he turned to you. “You wanna try?”

Before you could stop yourself, you nodded enthusiastically and pushed past Simon, never noticing the glare he had fixed on you and Johnny.

The left-hand man was nice enough, getting you some safety glasses and hearing protection, before getting a Glock. He led you to one of the booths and started to show you how the gun worked, but before he could get very far, Simon stepped in. “I think someone’s looking for you upstairs, mate.” It could’ve sounded perfectly polite, but the deep grumble in Simon’s voice conveyed a silent threat. Johnny quickly stepped back, his hands raised and with a smirk on his face. “Got it, boss.” Then he turned to you. “Have fun, beautiful.”

Another low growl escaped Simon’s lips before he could stop himself, his eyes fixed on his best friend until he disappeared around a corner. Then he turned back to you. “W-We really don’t have to do this now, if you don’t have time or something.” He chuckled and shook his head, picking up the gun. “It’s alright, love.”

Within a few minutes, he explained everything about the gun to you, that you had to know. After putting it into safe mode again, he handed it to you, so you could get used to the weight and feel. It was heavy and cold, but somehow…felt good in your hands.

While you were studying the piece of metal, he gently slit on the safety glasses, before popping on the hearing protection, making sure that it was sitting correctly. Gently, he hooked his finger under your chin and tilted your head until you were looking up at him. His eyes jumped to your lips, lingering there for a few moments, before he looked up again, smiling gently. “Ready?” You could barely hear him, but you nodded.

After putting on his own protection, he spun you around so you were facing the range. With gentle touches, he corrected your posture, giving you tips, but all that you could focus on was the feeling of his chest pressed to your back. Your breath hitched, as his hands traced your curves, giving your hips a gentle squeeze when you positioned yourself correctly. His body still pressed against yours, he lifted the left shell covering your ear. “Good. When you’re ready shoot.” He put the shell down again, his breath wafting over the side of your face and neck.

You tried to focus on the silhouette of a human, not too far away, before you took a deep breath and shot. The recoil and noise made you jump, but Simon was steady behind you, holding you close, while your heartbeat slowly calmed down. After a few moments, Simon gently took the gun from you and put it on safety before placing it on the table in front of you. Then he pulled off your protection, a proud smile on his face. “What do you think?”

You stayed quiet for a few moments, before grinning back at him. “That was amazing! How did I do?” He chuckled at your enthusiasm, pressing a button, to pull in the silhouette. “Your form was good and with time you’ll get used to the recoil and noise.” He glanced at the piece of paper, a surprised grin lighting up his face. “And your aim…is pretty good.” When you glanced at it, you saw that, while it wasn’t a bullseye, it was pretty close. You chuckled, looking back at him. “Beginner’s luck.” Simon shrugged, pressing the other button and you watched the paper go back to its earlier position. “May be beginner’s luck, but it’s good all the same.” When you turned back to him, you noticed that his eyes were still on you, he never looked away.

You swallowed thickly, averting your eyes, blushing when you heard him chuckle, a quiet ‘cute’ leaving his lips.

For the next hour or so, he continued to teach you. He let you test different guns, showed you how to aim, and also explained what to aim for if you only want to wound and slow someone down, instead of killing them. By the time Simon decided that it was enough for the day, your arms ached from the weight, and your hands burned from the friction.

“If you want to come back and shoot, let me know. I’ll come with you.” You frowned at Simon’s massive back. “Aren’t you like…busy?” He glanced at you over his shoulder, a smirk on his face. “I’ll make time for you, love.” Then he focused back on putting everything away. Once he was done, he gently grabbed your hand and led you through the building, until you were back in his office. There, waiting for the two of you, was a tray with two plates filled with pure deliciousness. You watched as Simon, with practiced ease, pulled off his suit jacket and rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves, until they were snug just above his elbow. You almost drooled as you watched the muscles and veins in his arms shift whenever he moved.

“Come, eat.”

Next Part

A/N: Another part. I hope you enjoy it so far. And to everyone who comments: thank you so much! I always get really excited to read them! I love you! 💕

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