#share your own stories too! I’d be delighted to hear them!

[wowzoerz-blog]

You know it’s actually really nice being trans and true to myself as a person

Like, progress feels slow but every month I look back and think “Wow, that’s something unique I learned about myself!” And I am a much happier person because of that!

There is a girl under all of these repressed feelings that me and my friends are uncovering.

And she is just, Wonderful

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of dead people,, arguing

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 14

I’d now been living with Matt about two years and traveling with him regularly. My parents, having returned from Germany, were now staying temporarily with my Uncle Ray in Connecticut, on their way to Travis Air force Base near Sacramento. I was anxious to see them, yet I hated leaving Graceland. Outside those gates, the cord was cut. I was afraid that the one moment I was away from his world would be the one moment when another could slip in.

Yet I needed to see my parents. I did miss them. I was well aware that my appearance—in a tight, form-fitting dress, spiked high heels, heavy makeup, and with my hair dyed jet black and piled high on top of my head in a beehive hairdo—would elicit, as usual, a less than delighted response from them, but I was determined not to change a single part of the total look that Matt had painstakingly created. I flew to Connecticut and my expectations were correct. My parents were again so shocked when they saw me that they could barely speak. Later, my father told me that under all that makeup, my eyes looked like “two holes in the snow.��

The rest of the weekend brought no improvement. I wasn’t being honest about my relationship and style of life. Anticipating uncomfortable questions about my future, I spent most of the time in my room. However, the questions came.

“What’s it like, living at Graceland?”

“Is it true that Matt never goes anywhere?”

I felt their probing was an invasion of my privacy, my personal life, and I gave them guarded answers.

My parents didn’t appreciate my attitude or my defensiveness. They were just showing a natural interest in me, and a concern for my well-being, when they asked how I’d done in school, what kinds of grades I’d gotten, and if I’d brought my report card. They also wanted to know if I was planning to attend college. Even though my only plan was to go wherever Matt was going, I said that I intended to enroll. I tried to tell them what they wanted to hear, and to say as little as possible, convinced that if I said one thing wrong, they’d order me home.

After that weekend, I tried to avoid my parents. But they knew I joined Matt in Los Angeles while he was filming, and they wanted me to spend weekends with them in Sacramento. This created a problem. I couldn’t think of sharing my time with anyone but Matt, especially weekends when he wasn’t working. Still, I’d make occasional trips to Sacramento, because if I didn’t visit my parents, they’d visit us. I knew Matt was very touchy, and I was never sure what might set him off.

I was particularly nervous when my parents decided to bring my sister and brothers down to Disneyland for the weekend—and to stop and see us in Bel Air. I persuaded them that Bel Air was much too far out of their way and it’d be easier for me to meet them at Disneyland. I spent the weekend with them there, but on Sunday my parents insisted on bringing me home. Of course I had to invite them all to dinner.

They dropped me off and drove on to a nearby hotel to check in and get changed. I ran into the house in a panic because I knew I’d have to show them around. I certainly couldn’t tell my parents that I slept with Matt, and I decided to try to fool them into believing that I had my own room.

I asked Charlie Hodge, one of the employees, if I could borrow his room. I rushed up and down the hall, taking things from Matt’s room and putting them in Charlie’s. I placed my little perfume bottles around the tables, hung some of my clothes in the closet, which I strategically left partly open, and finally put all of the stuffed dogs and teddy bears that I loved to collect on the bed.

That evening when we had dinner, Matt was charming and wonderful, but I was too petrified to eat. I was always anxious whenever Matt and my father got together, since I never knew what Dad was going to ask him. Matt used to get very annoyed because so many people were curious about the “regulars,” always asking what this one did, or that one did, and why Matt needed to have so many of them around him. When I would try and tell Dad to be less curious, that only made him more curious.

“Why can’t I ask questions?” he’d demand. “What’s there to hide?”

After dinner, I gave my family a tour of the house. I tried to show them “my” room as casually as I had the others. “See how it overlooks the patio,” I said calmly. “Come on, I’ll show you Matt’s room.”

I opened the door to his room, praying that no one would want to see any of his huge walk-in closets because if they opened a closet door, all of my things would be revealed. One of my shoes, I noticed in horror, had been left next to the bed. I managed to kick it out of sight.

Amazingly, the entire evening came off without mishap. Although my parents never questioned the story about my own room, I’m sure they never believed it either.

That night, when Matt looked in Charlie’s room and saw all of the stuffed animals, he burst out laughing.

I continued to guard my life-style. I was always afraid they’d look too closely at my relationship with Matt. As it was, they inquired about our future together.

“How much longer is this going to go on like this?” they wanted to know. “What are his intentions? Are there any plans for anything? If not, why don’t you just pack your bags and come home? We think it’s about time.”

Hearing this was my greatest fear. I always told them, “We’re doing great. I’m sure everything will work out fine.” I’d give them vanilla ice cream with candy and whipped cream and a cherry on top—so that everything sounded really promising.

Everything wasn’t nearly as promising as I led my parents to believe. Matt and I couldn’t really be happy together because he was so unhappy with his career. At first glance, he had it made: He was the highest-paid actor in Hollywood with a three-picture-a-year contract, at a phenomenal salary, plus fifty percent of the profits. But in reality, his brilliant career had lost its luster. By 1965 the public had access to Matt solely through his films and records. He hadn’t appeared on television since his special with Frank Sinatra in 1960, and he hadn’t performed in a live concert since the spring of 1961.

The sales of his records indicated that his massive popularity was slipping. His singles were no longer automatically Top Ten hits, and he hadn’t enjoyed a Number One record since the spring of 1962.

He blamed his fading popularity on his humdrum movies. He loathed their stock plots and short shooting schedules, but whenever he complained to the Colonel, Colonel reminded him that they were making millions, that the fact that his last two serious films, Flaming Star and Wild in the Country, were box-office failures proved that his fans wanted to see him only in musicals.

He could have demanded better, more substantial scripts but he didn’t. Part of the reason was the lavish life-style he had established and become accustomed to. The main reason, however, was his inability to stand up to the Colonel. In Matt’s personal life, there were no stops in letting anyone know how or what he felt. But when it came time to stand up to Colonel William, he backed off. Matt detested the business side of his career. He would sign a contract without even reading it.

For years Matt had stayed on top of the record charts because he had been given a good selection of songs to choose from, and he’d had free rein to record them in his own style, his own way, and had not yet become disillusioned with the music industry.

When he was excited about the material, he loved recording sessions. He liked to work as a team—with his voice, the backup singers, and the instruments all recorded at the same volume. He didn’t want his voice out front alone. He liked the impact of the whole group. It was his sound, and it was a fabulous sound until one day Colonel said there were complaints from fans and from RCA that they couldn’t hear Matt well enough. Whether or not this was true, he suggested Matt’s voice be brought out more.

This is one of the few times Matt bucked heads with him, stating, “I’ve been singing that way all of my life. What do a few heads in RCA know about music? I’ll sing the songs the way I hear them.”

Matt could handle only so much and then he’d lose heart. He’d put up with the horrendous movies, but now they were tampering with his songs.

Colonel did not intentionally plot to make Matt sound bad, or to get artistic control. His only interest was in getting out the product so the money could keep coming in. But when he started crossing over the line from business negotiations into Matt’s artistry, Matt slowly began going downhill.

I wanted desperately to help him, but I wasn’t sure how. In my innocence, I kept trying to convince him to argue with the Colonel. But he would only get angry, saying I didn’t know what I was talking about.

I didn’t understand his difficulty in revealing his weaknesses to me. Only later did I realize how important it was to Matt to always appear in control in front of me. Whenever I stated my own opinions too strongly, especially if they differed from his, he’d remind me that his was the stronger sex, and as a woman, I had my place. He liked to say that it was intended for woman to be on the left side of man, close to his heart, where she gives him strength through her support.

His role with me was that of lover and father, and with neither could he let down his guard and become fallible or truly intimate. I longed for that, and as a woman, I needed it.

There were nights when he slept restlessly, beset by worries and fears. I lay silently beside him, anxious about what he might be thinking and whether there was a place in his life for me. Lost in our separate miseries, we were unable to give each other strength or support. He was controlled by his inability to take responsibility for his own life and for compromising his own standards—and I was controlled by him, compromising mine.

When things were bad, Matt called James and they talked for hours about their problems. He told his dad he was lonely and depressed and no one understood him. When I overheard these words, I continued to take it personally, again thinking that I was failing him.

I would put on my brightest smile, my prettiest dress—and my phoniest personality and try to rouse his spirits. When I couldn’t get him out of the dumps, he would shut himself up all day in his room. This left me devastated. Afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, I suppressed my real feelings and eventually developed an ulcer.

The more frustrations increased, the more pressure he felt and this resulted in his manifesting physical illnesses. Specifically to handle depression, he was now prescribed antidepressants. His enormously creative gifts were being squandered and he couldn’t face it.

Although Colonel William knew about his state of mind, he had a long-standing agreement with Matt that he’d stay out of his personal life. Instead of confronting Matt, he tried to get the guys to report to him. It was a very touchy situation, and the boys were skeptical. Colonel used to have Sonny West and Jerry Schilling drive him back and forth to Palm Springs on weekends. During the long drive he casually tried to pump them for information. They had to be very careful. If they said the wrong thing, they would be put in a position of having betrayed Matt.

It was especially hard on Nate Doe who, as foreman of the group, spent a lot of time with the Colonel. When Matt began canceling meetings, or acting strangely on the set, Colonel would say, “What’s going on with Matt, Nate? He looks like he’s in bad shape. We can’t let him be seen like this.”

Nate was torn between his loyalties to Colonel and to Matt. He cared about Matt and respected his wishes, but he understood that the Colonel made the deals and had to deliver “the product”: Matt.

When Colonel made Nate responsible for reporting to him on Matt’s “mental and emotional state,” a euphemistic phrase for drug use, Matt found out and said, “I don’t want any sons of bitches here telling Colonel what I do or what goes on in this household.” He fired Nate on the spot. Six months later he forgave him and took him back. It was typical of Matt to blow off steam and then forgive all.

From the time I first arrived at Graceland I began to notice a gradual change in Matt’s personality. In the early days of our relationship he seemed to be more in command of his emotions.

He was a man capable of enjoying life to the fullest, especially during our own special times. We loved to stroll about in the early evenings just before dark. Usually we’d end up at his father’s home and stay and watch television, father and son relaxing, puffing on cigars, discussing the state of the world.

Walking back home with Matt, we’d speak of fate—how it had brought us together, how we were meant for each other, how God worked in strange ways, uniting two people from different parts of the world.

I loved it when he’d talk like this. He’d plan our lives, saying how he was destined to be with me and could never be with anyone else. In this loving atmosphere I found I could open up and express my opinions freely.

Once we were going through a stack of demo records for an RCA soundtrack album and his distaste for each song grew increasingly apparent. Before a record was halfway through, he was on to the next, getting more and more discouraged. Finally he found one that held his attention and asked me what I thought. Remembering that first incident in Vegas, I truly felt our relationship had developed to where he would want my honest opinion. “I don’t really like it,” I said.

“What do you mean, you don’t like it?”

“I don’t know—there’s just something about it, a catchiness that’s missing.”

To my horror, a chair came hurtling toward me.

I moved out of the way just in time, but there were stacks of records piled on it and one flew off and hit me in the face.

Within seconds he had me in his arms, apologizing frantically. It was said that he inherited his temper from his parents. I’d heard stories about how, when Mary Lou was furious, she’d grab a frying pan and fling it at James, and I’d already observed James’s harsh words firsthand. This genetic trait was inherent in Matt’s temperament.

You could sense the vibration when he was angry. The tension in the room mounted to flash point, and no one wanted to be around for the explosion. Yet, if anyone decided to leave, they automatically became the target for his rage, me included. Like the time he came storming downstairs because his black suit which he had worn only the day beforehadn’t been returned from the cleaners.

“Why isn’t it back yet, y/nn?” he screamed. “Where the hell is my goddamn suit?”

He had two other suits identical to the one at the cleaners, but he wanted that one.

When he was angry, it was like the roar of thunder. No one could challenge his biting words; we could only wait until the storm passed. When he calmed down, he made excuses—he hadn’t had enough sleep, he’d had too much sleep, or he hadn’t had his morning coffee yet.

Sometimes he lashed out just to drive home a point. If he thought it would teach us a lesson, he’d blow some minor grievance out of all proportion, and even as he was yelling he might wink at someone nearby. Then, ten minutes later, he’d be fine, leaving us bewildered and emotionally depleted. There were also times he would leave us emotionally uplifted. He was truly a master at manipulating people.

Matt was filled with complexities and contradictions. We would spend an evening discussing the spiritual life and then watch horror films.

One evening while watching the classic horror movie Diabolique, Matt leaned over and asked if I was in a daring mood.

“Sure.” I didn’t know what he was up to, but adventure excited me.

“I’m going to take you somewhere that will scare the fire out of you—it did me the first time I went there.”

After the film he took my hand and we all piled into the limo. Matt instructed the driver, “Take us to the Boston morgue.”

“What!”

I didn’t believe what I had just heard.

“Yeah, there’s this guy who oversees the place. I went there once before. I was roaming around the rooms, looking at bodies, and we ran into each other. It scared the shit out of us both.”

“You mean we’re going inside?”

“Well, we’re not supposed to, but I got ways.”

“Okay, I’m game.”

His fame was his passkey. It was eerie walking through the halls and viewing each room. They were still, solemn, dimly lit. I clutched at Matt’s hand. At first I didn’t want to look, but he assured me the bodies were at peace and that once I looked, it wouldn’t be so bad.

We wandered from room to room. I was amazed at how easy it was to become accustomed to this unusual sight. It was serene, almost as if we were in church.

We were doing fine until I looked on a table and saw an infant who appeared to be two or three months old. We both gazed in silence.

“Oh Matt,” I said, “he’s so little, so innocent. What could have happened? There’s no scars.” Tears were streaming down my face.

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “Sometimes God works in strange ways. I guess it was just meant for the little fellow to be with Him.”

We both took the infant’s hand and Matt said a prayer. A few minutes later, we stood over a middle-aged woman who had just been embalmed. I looked away.

“This is good for you,” he said. “You have to see things like this sometimes. This is the hard cold fact—reality. When you look at a body, you realize how temporary it all is, how it could end in a matter of minutes.”

The spiritual side of Matt was a dominant part of his nature. As a small boy growing up in Boston, Massachusetts, he and his family attended church regularly at the First Assembly of God. He was raised on hellfire-and-brimstone preaching that put the fear of God in you and music that led to the Pearly Gates. Matt, James, and Mary Lou would join in with the congregation and choir, and it was then that music first rocked Matt’s soul. He was capable of spiritual healing; one touch of his hands to my temples and the most painful headaches disappeared.

He always kept the Bible on his bedside table and read it often. Now, faced with an ever-deepening despair, he began looking to other philosophical books for answers and guidance. He read the works of Kahlil Gibran. One book in particular, The Prophet, inspired him. He also read Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse and The Impersonal Life by Joseph Benner. He became so enamored of these books that he passed them out to friends, fellow actors, and fans. They appealed to his religious nature and he loved bringing people together “in the spirit of one underlying force Almighty God.”

When his mother, Mary Lou, was alive, Matt had one person to answer to, whom he respected and who constantly reminded him of his values and his roots. It was Mary Lou who kept Matt aware of the difference between right and wrong, of the evils of temptation, and of the danger of life in the fast lane.

“Mom,” he’d say. “I want you and Dad in Hollywood with me. There’s a lot of fast talkin’ businessmen there, makin’ a lot of decisions, fancy talk I don’t understand.”

In the early days, James and Mary Lou accompanied Matt on most of his major appearances around the South and visits to Hollywood when he made his first films. It was Mary Lou’s common sense that counteracted Matt’s insecurities in his youth.

Since Mary Lou’s death, there were no boundaries for Matt. She was the force that kept him in line. Now that she was gone, he was continually in conflict between his own personal ethics and the temptations that surrounded him.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - this chapter is so sad 🎀

[blue-rose-soul]

Your last Devil’s Bastards post was so juicy! I’d never heard about heaven’s people having amnesia.

Now I can’t stop thinking about a pre-reveal scenario in which Nicaise somehow goes to visit the hotel and while she doesn’t recognize anyone, Alastor and Lucifer sure recognize her.

Hey, it could happen! I did set the stage for Nicaise to potentially become a fallen angel, no second death required.

Let's say it happens at some point after the thwarted extermination. Neither Lucifer nor Alastor know yet, but Alastor has some suspicions. When Nicaise is ejected from Heaven for revealing the exterminations to the public, encouraging people to go against Heaven's rules, and questioning the Seraphim, and then refusing to repent, she remembers Charlie Morningstar's hotel and heads there straight away.

Charlie's happy to see her again. Both Lucifer and Alastor are in shock, but since Alastor's perma-smile is still in place no one really notices his reaction. They're all a little wrapped up in the story Nicaise is telling them about how she ended up getting ejected from Heaven. Of course Charlie happily welcomes her into the hotel, and Vaggie's actually happy to have yet another fallen angel among them, to hear that Heaven may actually be reforming from within.

Then Lucifer steps forward and reintroduces himself. Everyone's more than a little surprised to learn that Lucifer and Nicaise have met before. Lucifer explains that whence upon a time he snuck out of Hell just for a little while to actually see Earth, and wound up lost in the middle of New Orleans during the Rex parade. Nicaise doesn't remember the event, so he tells her about how she saved him from being lost and basically acted as his guide throughout the celebration. They both got pretty wasted and he woke up the next morning passed out on top of somebody's rooftop, presumably from attempting to fly home while drunk. Everyone's laughing and having a good time as he recounts the story.

Alastor says nothing.

As Nicaise settles into the hotel crew and helps Charlie with her redemption project, Alastor initially tries to keep his distance, but over time everyone notices that Alastor is different with her. It's not too strange at first. He's always gotten along better with women than with men. But this is different. He almost has an air of respect with her, and he doesn't even respect the King of Hell! He's gentle, he never teases or intentionally scares her, though it turns out Nicaise has a bit of a prankster side of her own and thinks its funny when he spooks other hotel residents. He doesn't hide the fact that he's a serial murderer, or that he's a cannibal, but he does tone down the bloodthirstiness in her presence. His smile is more genuine around her.

Bit by bit, certain things come out about Alastor, more in the few short weeks Nicaise has been with them than anyone's learned in the 6+ months of living with Alastor. Things he and Nicaise share in common. They both grew up in New Orleans, they like to use venison in their jambalaya, play several of the same instruments, have the same taste in liquor, hate tea. They even died within a couple decades of one another. Nicaise wonders if they might have even met one another while alive. Alastor only says he supposes it's possible.

Lucifer, for his part, is delighted to reunite with an old friend. Alastor does not enjoy Lucifer enjoying her company. He compels Husk to interrupt the two of them if he ever sees them getting too 'close.' Encourages Niffty to get under Lucifer's feet. Has his shadows trip Lucifer up, or spill his drinks when he's talking with Nicaise. Lucifer knows it's all Alastor's doing and assumes Alastor's just being a shit again.

"What, you failed to steal my daughter, now you're trying to steal my vacation friend!?"

Husk is the first one to put two and two together. He doesn't figure out everything, but he knows Alastor well enough to know his interest in Nicaise isn't romantic, and to pick up on the familial similarities. He keeps his mouth shut though. The memory of what happened last time he dredged up one of Alastor's secrets still sets his fur on edge. Still, in private he lets himself chuckle over the fact that Alastor is a 'mamma's boy.'

Eventually though, other people start to pick up on Alastor's weird behavior. When Nicaise scolds him for 'picking on' Lucifer - and WOW is it weird to see Alastor letting himself be scolded - Alastor points out to her that Lucifer is a married man. That does put a bit of a damper on Lucifer's and Nicaise's interactions. They weren't intentionally flirting or anything, but Lucifer wonders if maybe he was getting a tad too comfortable. He and Lilith ARE separated (at least, according to Charlie) but he still hopes to one day reconcile with her. And now that Alastor's brought it to her attention, Charlie's starting to feel just a tad uncomfortable with Lucifer's and Nicaise's closeness as well. Just a tad though! She does want her dad to be happy, and he and Lilith are separated...

Privately, she still thinks it feels like a betrayal though.

And it's that feeling that allows Charlie to put things together, and she's a hell of a lot less subtle than Husk is.

There are people hanging out at the bar when she walks up to Alastor in the parlor and blurts out, "ALASTOR, IS NICAISE YOUR SISTER!?"

It came out a lot louder than she meant it.

Lucifer chokes on his drink.

In Charlie's defense, he and Nicaise appear to be close to the same physical age in their demon and angel forms. If anything, Nicaise might have been younger when she died than Alastor was when he died.

Alastor reassures Charlie that, no, Nicaise is not his sister.

Lucifer relaxes and starts to chug his drink to get that terrifying thought out of his head.

"She's my maman."

Lucifer chokes again.

Fortunately Nicaise isn't present for this conversation. Charlie asks why Alastor hadn't said anything before now and he explains he doesn't see any reason to. Once they get her back into Heaven, they'll never see one another again, so why burden her with the knowledge that her son grew to be a mass murderer in life and a cannibalistic Overlord in death? While he may not regret any of his actions, he knows she would be heartbroken by the revelation.

Angel Dust breaks up the sullen mood that's fallen over the room by cracking a joke that, 'the devil wants to do your mom.'

He immediately gets several sets of angry eyes on him, including beast mode Alastor, and shuts up very quickly.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

a different one? okay!

So reader and hannibal are in a pre established relationship (reader knows everything and is happy to help cook) but they feel somethings missing, introducing will who gets aggressivly courted by both of them and thinks he has to choose who he wants but he doesn't, will is somewhat overstimmed/overwhelmed at being the focus of both of them but he loves it

-cat

GOD YES YES YES YES THANK YOU THIS IS JUST SOOOO PERFECT MWAAAA 😘🥹❤️ pls enjoy this was such a delight to write!!!

(thinking this might also go on my AO3 and potentially have a pt 2 🙏🏽😵‍💫)

Minors DNI. Lmk if there’s any warnings I should add!

“Beautiful choice, my love,” Hannibal said as you clipped on the pearl earrings that he’d bought you on a trip to Vienna.

You smiled, holding your hair up and presenting your throat so he could clip a matching pearl necklace around it for you.

“Pairs well with the dress, doesn’t it?” You asked, knowing well he loved you in silk, especially when so much of your back was exposed.

He let his amber eyes rove over you appraisingly, smiling in approval. It was the kind of look that never failed to spark heat inside of you. His fingers ghosted down your spine, and you suppressed a shiver.

“You look ravishing. How could anyone resist a temptation such as you?”

“Hmm, same goes for you, mon cher,” you said, kissing his cheek before turning back to the mirror to make sure everything was in place.

You glanced over at your husband’s reflection as he tried to tie his favorite crimson tie as neatly as possible. You sensed he might be a little nervous, which was pretty rare. Still, you understood why, given you were a little jittery yourself.

That night, you and Hannibal would be hosting a special dinner for a very special guest.

You’d heard plenty about Will Graham – stories of his unique brilliance, his quick wit, and all of his achievements in criminal psychology. More importantly, the flickers of darkness that sometimes broke through his cool demeanor. He had a lot of promise, your husband assured you. It would just require some thorough unraveling.

Seldom was Hannibal truly intrigued by someone, so that only made you more curious about him. The two of you had been happily married for some time now, but neither had ever been opposed to broadening your horizons. Tricky thing was, no one had really been worthy of your interest… until now.

“Here, let me take care of that,” you offered, your hands replacing his. “Is there anything I should expect from tonight?”

“Yet to be seen,” he said, watching your deft fingers at work. “You know you have free rein, right?”

You tilted your head to one side, smoothing his perfectly knotted tie. “Has it ever been any other way? For either of us?”

He chuckled. “Touché.”

A mere half hour later, the doorbell rang. You went to get the wine from the kitchen as Hannibal went to open the door. You could hear the deep timbre of Will’s voice as they approached the dining room, tone low and even.

You emerged from the kitchen moments later. The table was already set, a delectable assortment of food awaiting you. But you felt a different sort of hunger stir at the sight of Will Graham.

He was utterly gorgeous, with all knowing blue eyes, a chiseled jaw and a charming mess of dark brown curls you immediately wanted to run your fingers through. He reminded you of a marble statue, carved with the patient, loving hand of the finest artist.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, taking you in as well. Hannibal clocked this too, of course, the ghost of a smirk on his handsome face.

“Will, I’d like you to meet my lovely wife,” Hannibal said as you handed him the wine bottle.

You extended a hand towards him, which he took.

“Pleasure, Mrs. Lecter. I’ve heard much about you,” Will said, pleasantly surprising you with a small smile. He seemed too serious for his own good otherwise, and it gave you a little hope of changing that.

You and Hannibal shared a look, and you smiled as well. “Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Graham. I, too, have heard wonderful things.”

“Oh? Hannibal speaks highly of me?” Will arched a brow, eyes flicking over to your husband.

“Don’t seem so surprised, Will,” Hannibal said as he opened the wine bottle. “Have I not praised you in person as well?”

Will pulled out your chair for you, his eyes now snagging on all the exposed skin of your back. He seemed not to know how to respond to Hannibal’s words, much less his compliments.

“Tell us, Mr. Graham,” you prompted as you sat down, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” he said, taking his seat across from you. “And you can call me Will.”

“Marvelous. Then you can call me by name, too.”

Hannibal served the two of you before serving himself. The three of you clinked glasses in a toast before digging into the food.

You and Hannibal had made Osso Bucco with saffron-scented risotto, one of your favorite dishes. Both of you covertly watched Will for his reaction.

Usually, he was pretty stoic, the changes in his expression very subtle. On his first bite, he exhaled deeply, his eyes closing.

“This is delicious,” he said. “The meat is so tender.”

“You can thank my wife for such an excellent cut. I’ve yet to meet a finer butcher,” Hannibal beamed proudly at you. “I taught her everything myself.”

Will looked mildly impressed, taking a sip of red wine. “And you enjoy it? It can be a rather violent trade.”

You lowered your eyes demurely, a coquettish smile pulling at your lips. “Of course I do. I am no stranger to violence, Will. I spent my summers at my grandparents’ pig farm growing up.”

“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration sometime?” Hannibal chimed in with a mischievous smirk you had the urge to kiss.

“It would be an honor, Mrs. Lecter,” Will said, his gaze never leaving you. “You and your husband have kept me well fed.”

“It’s the least we can do. You are Hannibal’s closest friend, after all,” you said. “Though perhaps you’d like a cooking lesson or two?”

“How could I ever decline such a generous offer?”

“Good,” Hannibal said. “My kitchen is always open to friends, as you know.”

Will shifted in his seat, unused to such attention, especially from two people at once. That didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying it, though. He looked at you both in turn, a shadow crossing his features momentarily. You understood how you must have seemed in that moment – two hungry wolves cornering a shuddering lamb. Or perhaps you were recognizing another wolf in sheep’s clothing.

After dinner, the three of you moved to the living room for a nice chat in front of the fireplace. You sat on the chaise, crossing your legs. Through the slit in your dress, Will caught a glimpse of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh.

You trailed his gaze, unsheathing it and offering it to him hilt first. His nostrils flared at your boldness, lips thinning a little.

“His wedding gift to me,” you said, smiling adoringly at your husband. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Will nodded, seeing his reflection on the fine blade. “Fitting of his bride.”

“You may use it whenever you like.” There was a not-so-subtle implication in your tone and in the dark gleam in your eye that made his cheeks color just barely.

Oh, you must have really gotten to him then. Hannibal’s smirk at the realization was positively feline, especially when Will looked to him as if for confirmation – or perhaps permission?

“Beauty is meant to be shared, isn’t it?” Hannibal said. “You know that better than most, Will.”

The beautiful man before you swallowed hard once more, squirming deliciously in his seat. His want was a living thing, crackling like fire beneath his skin. The best part was not that it was reciprocated, but that he wouldn’t have to choose between the two of you.

He recognized this as a gift.

“Yes, so you’ve shown me.” He handed the dagger back to you, his palm covering yours in what seemed like a promise. “I might just have to find the occasion for it. Perhaps Hannibal could give me some pointers.”

His restraint was admirable, truly. You couldn’t wait to unveil what was hiding under all that control. Your hunger yawned further open, reflected in your eyes. Hannibal squeezed your shoulder, and you rested your head against his arm.

“My, well something tells me we will all get along just splendidly.”

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] Fluttering Vacation Night (1/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog

---

Masumi: …

Kasumi: Ah, he’s here. Masumi-kun. Over here, over here!

Masumi: …!

Kasumi: Great to see you. You didn’t get lost on your way here?

Masumi: No. I’ve come here before for a show.

Kasumi: Oh, you've acted in this lounge? Please tell me all about it—. Err, that’s not it. I’m here to talk about love with Masumi-kun today!

Masumi: I’d like some advice from you, the love master.

Kasumi: Ahaha. That title is too much for me, but I’m delighted if I can be of help. You know, I was thrilled when Sakuya-kun sent me a message… But I never thought he’d tell me that you, Masumi-kun, wanted to talk about love with me!

Masumi: …I heard you were the one who made this reservation.

Kasumi: Right. When I heard, I made the reservation right away. Fufu, it’s been a long time since I’ve had such an exciting afternoon tea.

Waiter: Welcome, I believe you have a reservation? Please come this way.

-pause-

Kasumi: Ooh~, the role of a noblewoman! That sure sounds interesting. I’m really happy just hearing about it like this! Thank you for sharing your story.

Masumi: No problem.

Kasumi: Well then, let’s get to the main topic now.

Masumi: Kumon and I are going participate in an upcoming photoshoot at a night pool that Tenma is doing for a job. The pool will be reserved for us, so we’ll be free to enjoy ourselves after the photoshoot. Director is also going to come along that day as a chaperone.

Kasumi: That’s amazing! It’s nice she gets to enjoy summer even if she’s chaperoning for work.

Masumi: I’m sure it’ll be fun playing with her in the night pool, even just for a little while.

Kasumi: Fufu, I see. So you’re saying you want to have fun together with Director.

Masumi: Exactly.

Kasumi: If you ask me… in that case, how about splitting up into pairs and racing using a big swim ring? It’ll be natural teaming up as a pair and that competitive factor will get your heart thumping!

Masumi: …

*writes down notes*

Kasumi: Also, if the night pool is aimed towards adults, then there are bound to be spots that serve stylish cocktails, right? If you request it, they’ll make an original image cocktail for you.

Masumi: An imagine cocktail?

Kasumi: You tell them about someone’s personality and characteristics and they’ll craft a drink with colours and flavours that match that image. Of course I’m sure you can order a non-alcoholic drink as well.

Masumi: I’ll give her an original drink inspired by “my feelings for Director” as a present…

Kasumi: Wow, that sounds wonderful!! The idea of giving it to her as a present is sure to hit!! It will be so romantic explaining which parts represent her! Ah, but it might be better purposely keeping it to yourself? You can express your secret feelings through the cocktail…!

Masumi: I’m sure that will make an amazing present. You really are the love master.

Kasumi: That’s not true…! I’m really just a love junkie, that’s all.

-pause-

Kasumi: *Sigh*~. We talked a lot! The second half basically sounded like I was going off about my own wild fantasies though. I hope it was alright…?

Masumi: It helped a lot. I’ll find a way to implement your ideas.

Kasumi: Wonderful! I know you have work to do, but have lots of fun after you’re finished, alright?

---

| next

[helenvader]

Since this week the ROP Summer Celebration 2024 prompt is (also) Minor Characters, let me share of my own, even though it's from a fic I wrote last year.

The character couldn't be MORE minor, since he appears on screen for 8 seconds. I was charmed, though.

This is him:

I'm sharing Chapter 4, where he appears for the first time. There are some "spoilers" for the story, but well. Never mind. :-)

---

Chapter 4: Halbrand

The black and white caraes pieces, crudely carved from wood, were distinct: the black ones recognisable as Orcs; the white as Men. 

King Halbrand was given the white pieces. Orting, son of Orting (“just call me Orte, lad, like everyone else”) had insisted on it. The old man could not have known that it was but once that he fought on the side of the light. Twice, he reminded himself. The battle with the volcano had to count, too.

The game required patience, intelligence, and thinking several steps ahead. It was perfect.

He eliminated one of the Orc soldiers from the battlefield.

His opponent, rubbing knotted hands in delight, wore a wrinkled face radiant with the appreciation of finding such a worthy adversary.

“Very clever,” he said. “And you say you have never played before?"

Halbrand confirmed the fact with a silent nod.

"Incredible," the old man murmured, shaking his head. "Aye, truly incredible."

"I might have played… other games involving strategy, in the past," admitted Halbrand.

“I would say those were not played on a board,” the old man regarded him shrewdly.

Halbrand found himself at a loss for words.

“'twasn’t that difficult to put two and two together. That funny business with the mountain? You are no ordinary man, lad. Also, those witches made it no secret of who it was they came looking for.”

Halbrand blinked.

“What witches?”

“No one told you?”

The expression on his face must have been eloquent enough, because Orte embarked on a narrative journey to fill him in.

“Hmmm, where to start… We all thought you were done for, what with the spear in your back and all…"

Ah, yes. The spear. Adar's special parting gift.

“Never in my life have I seen a woman as furious as that Elf, and my wife was as hot-tempered as they come," cackled the old man. "Can swing a sword, that one. The creature’s head landed right next to Ebrenn's little girl. She was screaming like a slaughtered pig, poor thing.”

An Orc hopped across the board, and Halbrand’s army was short of a warrior.

“When your strength gave away, the Elf cradled you in her arms like a babe,” continued Orte. “I could swear she was… glowing.”

Halbrand’s face lit up with an involuntary smile.

He had suspected it, but now he knew. It was her who pulled him back. Why?

To hide his turmoil, he made an effort to stare at the board as if contemplating a strategy.

“I do not blame you, lad, she’s a comely one,” Orte remarked in an amused tone. “The kind that would set any man’s loins on fire.”

That was not a territory Halbrand wanted to tread.

“What about the witches?” he asked.

“Not that kind,” giggled Orte. “I’d stick with the Elf if I were you.”

Great. Even ancient, toothless Southlanders find you amusing.

Orte took mercy on him and resumed his tale.

“They were a scary lot. Especially the pale one with the staff. The shabbily dressed fellow was already there when those three appeared out of nowhere. Ignored everybody, just talked to him, all speaking at once, and loud enough so that all of us could hear.”

He cleared his throat and pronounced in a dramatic fashion:

“Where is Lord Sauron, sister?"

He scratched his head.

"You could see they were not right in the head, but still, why call a man sister?"

“Istar,” said Halbrand. "An Elvish word. It means wizard," he added, realising the Southlander hardly had any knowledge of Quenya.

"Ah. That explains it."

It also explained the unfamiliar voices in his head that day. Some lesser Maiar, searching for him for… obvious reasons.

“The wizard said there was none here bearing such name. Didn’t fool them, though. They’d noticed you already, and no wonder, you were moaning like a beaten pup. That wound must have hurt something awful. So, one of them was yelling that he was trying to kill you, and the pale one pointed her staff at him. It flashed like lightning, and she raised him up in the air like he weighed nothing. Then boom! flung him on the ground like a sack of flour!

“It looked very bad, very bad… ‘twas clear that once she dealt with him, it would be our turn. Scared stiff, all of us, and all we could do was watch, and wait… But then she stumbled. The Harfoot girl crept from behind and stabbed her in the knee. Nimble little thing. Funny creatures, Harfoots. Never heard of them before.”

Neither had Halbrand. Nori Brandyfoot was as much of a novelty to him as his unexpected willingness for self-sacrifice. To learn of the existence of both on the same day was ultimately more remarkable than a bunch of his worshippers tracking him.

“She bought enough time for the wizard to wrestle the staff from the pale witch. It was impossible to see, or hear what followed - wind started howling and blue light exploded all over the place. Once it was gone, the witches were gone, too. So was the staff.”

Now that the story was told in its entirety, Halbrand had to face its implications. A sense of dread squeezed his heart in an iron grip.

“So everybody knows who I truly am?”

“Indeed they do,” Orte chuckled gleefully.

The realisation of his vulnerable position robbed Halbrand of all strategic thinking, and, as a consequence, the white leader found himself in an equally vulnerable place.

Orte raised a brow over his opponent’s uncharacteristic display of ineptness, grabbing one of the black pieces and moving it across the board, beaming like a child.

Halbrand, the very much not prophesied King of the Southlands, fought a sudden urge to run away and hide in some forgotten corner where no one could ever find him. And it was not because he had just been defeated.

[valorums]

          @sithdestined      said;        😳 — what was your most embarrassing moment in the rpc?

╰►      SOURCE:      (not) munday asks

I've had a PLETHORA of embarrassing moments here in the rpc, so it'll probably come as no surprise that selecting one amongst the many to recount as an answer to this question was definitely a struggle. The moment which came to mind first was one with which you are already familiar since you helped me through it, but it was too good of a potential choice not to detail in this response. Despite the fact that several months have passed, this encounter STILL makes me cringe.

                 A few months ago, I reconnected with an old mutual of mine who expressed interest in writing with my alternate redemption verse centric portrayal of Dooku. Delighted to be writing with them again, I naïvely assumed that they would be open to writing with all of my Star Wars muses, and sent them a few links to interaction calls and information that I had recently posted for Shi’al. Each and every one of these attempts to garner interaction went unacknowledged, but my neurodivergent ass never recognized this lack of interaction as a clear sign of disinterest. We’ll come back to this in a bit— it’s important later in the story, so keep it in mind.

Shortly after I began posting on my askbox meme blog, a sudden onset of turbulent emotions drove me to write a psa regarding the fact that those of us with female oc’s can tell when our female muses are being pushed to the side in favor of our canon male muses, and it hurts. The mutual with whom interactions were recently kindled felt some type of way about the post, sending me a knee-jerk message accusing me of writing the psa as a vauge directed towards themself. After I reassured them that it was in fact NOT meant as a vaguepost, they pointed out that the psa was a “weird post” and suggested that the language used made “people feel guilty for prioritizing the muses that interest them”. According to them, “canons will always be more accessible to people”. I informed them that it was not my intention to guilt trip — after all, there are NUMEROUS psa’s with similar language all over the rpc — and that I struggle with direct communication.

            This revelation opened up a dialogue where the mutual then bluntly told me that interactions with Shi’al “falls outside my range of interest”, and that they feel “guilt tripped and forced” whenever I subtly imply that I’d love for their muses to interact with her. I was utterly MORTIFIED and completely blindsided by this admission, but the mortification did not stop there — they also revealed in the same breath that they felt “talked over” because “everything i say about my own muses is instantly associated back to yours”, and although they understood that it was a “way to relate”, it made the conversation unequal “when it comes to discussing headcanons and ideas”. Sharing relatable experiences is one way that I as an Autistic and ADHD individual try to connect to others, so hearing this was like a gut punch to my stomach.

Now aware that the mutual doesn’t want to interact here, I blocked them on this account, and have not spoken with them on Discord since because what they said — even if it was meant to help me become a better person — still stings. It shattered my already low confidence with regards to pursuing interactions for a while, and I’m still emotionally recovering from this rude wake up call and blow to my ego.

TLDR; I got told that I talk about my own OC too much, and even though the conversation was meant to help, I’m still lowkey hurting over it. Also, moral of the story: don’t assume that someone who follows you is open to interacting with all of your muses. Always ask directly first!

[penny-anna]

Just thought I’d let you know that your onslaught of Back to the Future content inspired me to rewatch the movies this weekend, which was such a delight :)

Do you have any fic recs, by any chance?

ah glad to hear it!

*rubs hands together*ohoho let's see what i got here

Like Water Flowing Underground by Kleenexwoman

Marty struggles to fit in with his new reality, but is any other world a better fit?

i read this one back in 2015 and come back to it every so often. just beautifully done.

Becoming Marty by butchcassidy

Scenes and glimpses from Marty's childhood and how he came to be Marty.

obligatory trans marty rec!!

Time is a Wave and a Particle by Kleenexwoman

Another one of those "Marty has trouble dealing with living in an alternate universe" fics.

heavy content warning for mental illness & specifically psychosis on this one!!

beautifully written, absolutely gutwrenching, this one is gonna haunt me ):

Alternates by Wildgoosery

Marty's life isn't at all like how he left it.

i eat up post-canon 'marty deals w being in a new timeline' fics like candy nom nom nom

wish someone would tell me who to be (ready to try anything) by Adanska

(“Fashion cycle,” Doc had explained, looking more ‘50s than anything else. “The Eighties just came back around in a big way for kids your age, you shouldn’t stick out too much—people will just think you’re hipsters.” “What, like the pants?” “No, a nostalgia-obsessed movement—ah, nevermind.”)

lesbian marty & jennifer visiting Actual 2015 its great give this one a read!!

we can't live in the present forever by ideal_girl (trainwreckdress)

Marty wonders if Doc has the same problem; histories overlapping, memories colliding in the space of a single, shared moment. He hopes not.

a 'marty deals with having 2 contradictory sets of memories' story

Inevitable by nbfutureboy

It's a bizarre twist of fate. When they’d found out they’d been expecting twin boys, Jennifer had suggested, sensible and sweet, that they pick out two new names. No comparisons to the kids of the first 2015 - they could be their own people, without having to compete with a future memory. 

very sweet fic about trans marlene mcfly!!

The Man in the Box by makesureyouwashyourhands

People said the strangest things about the McFlys. They said that Marty McFly went to bed one night and woke up a different person. Or, the two Martys: how they differ, and how they're the same.

*throws another post-canon new timeline fic at you*

The Human Body Is Incredibly Faulty by ThePhenomenalStingray

Written for the ask, "For that headcannon prompt, Doc is a complete mother hen mess when Marty’s hurt".

cute!! <3<3<3<3

First Impressions by Kristen Sheley

To say that he had been surprised when the kid had showed up that evening at his doorstep was an understatement. He hadn’t ever imagined anything so fantastic, and his was a mind that had visualized a lot of unrealistic and fantastic things! But a seventeen-year-old time traveler from the future was never one of them. Equally surprising to him was that this kid was apparently a friend of his. What a sixty-five-year-old was doing hanging out with someone so young, Emmett could only wonder. Maybe Marty was a student of his, from the University.

an oldie but a goodie!! absolutely banging bit of missing scene work from the first film w doc & marty adjusting to each other in 1955

The Longest Odds by leaper182

Marty McFly just had two more years to go before he could start thinking about the future.

But then the odds shifted, and the only future he has to think about now is whether he'll make it home alive.

wip not updated since 2016. not a whole lot of this one as it looks like it didn't really get off the ground but the central concept (tribute marty + former victor mentor doc brown) is just gutwrenching and im going to be rotating it in my brain forever!! ETA: totally failed to clock the ship tag on this one oops!! its tagged doc/marty but i don't remember anything shippy happening in the chapters posted. read at your own risk ig.

that's all for now!! i got more stuff in my to-read so stay tuned hopefully!!!

[janeykath318]

Birthday Cookies (Shieldshock)

“I have a mission for you, Nat,” Darcy proposed, waving a tray of freshly baked cookies in front of Agent Romanoff temptingly.

“Hmmm, if it involves some of those delicious looking morsels, I might be able to help you.” Natasha replied, not taking her eyes off of the cookies.

“You’ll get two dozen all for yourself,” Darcy promised.

“I’d be a fool to pass that up,” Natasha admitted. “Your chocolate chip cookies are to die for. But tell me, what is this mission?”

“So, tonight is Fourth of July Eve, also the night before Steve’s birthday. I thought it would be appropriate to leave out milk and cookies for Steve, y’know, being Captain America and all.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Darcy,” Natasha approved, a pleased smile beginning to form. “But perhaps there are ulterior motives?”

Darcy blushed, but shook her head vigorously.

“Of course not! I would never dream of….He’s way out of my league……not even in the same solar system…..that’s nuts. I bake for everyone, you know.”

Her flustered denials did not fool Natasha in the least, but she hid her delight (and a certain secret about Steve) and patted Darcy kindly on the back.

“What is my role in all this?” she asked.

“I need you to make sure it gets put in an area where Steve will find it, but won’t be pilfered by greedy archers or hungry gods. The areas I have clearance to would be a prime target for thieves. Cough, Cough, Clint, cough, cough.”

Natasha chuckled knowingly. Baked goods turned Clint into the worst kind of kleptomaniac, as she knew all too well.

“I’ll do it.”

“Yay! Thank you!” Darcy beamed, whirled around and grabbed a box off of the counter, which she handed to Nat.

“Your payment. Anybody else, I’d demand proof of delivery first, but you’re very trustworthy. Steve’s cookies are on this red, white and blue plate and there’s a little glass bottle of milk in the fridge that goes with them. You know his schedule pretty well, so once he’s on his way back to the tower, it’s go time for Operation Cookies! Look! They have red, white and blue m and ms!!”

Steve returned to his apartment after a full day of boring meetings and training sessions. The only thing so far that had broken up the monotony had been speaking to an enthusiastic second grade class. Their childhood innocence and zeal had warmed his jaded heart and he felt another twinge of longing for a family of his own, which he quickly quashed.

Meandering into his kitchen, he stopped and stared at the tray on the counter that held some very mouth-watering looking cookies. Grinning, he picked up the note that sat with them, recognizing Darcy’s goofy handwriting.

In honor of your birthday and America’s, have some cookies and milk!! They’re your favorite Chocolate chip with M and Ms. Happy Birthday, Steve, and God bless the USA. (Though I think he already did;-).

Darcy.

Steve chuckled at her note, heart touched by her thoughtfulness. It didn’t take long for him to have devoured five of the enormous cookies, dotted with chocolate chips and patriotic candy. They were as delicious as they looked and he wondered again how someone like Darcy, who was so pretty and funny and talented, was still single.

He stopped chewing as a realization slammed into him with startling clarity.

Oh. I’m an idiot. An absolute idiot.

Slumping back into his easy chair, Steve pondered his interactions with Darcy and wondered why he’d been so blind to his own heart.

Darcy was enjoying her off day by chilling in Tony’s big private pool. She’d donned her special stars and stripes swimsuit for the occasion and lazily dog paddled around, chatting with Wanda about the best ways for the PTSD sufferers to avoid the fireworks and sharing stories about previous fourth of july celebrations.

Hearing the pitter patter of feet on the deck, she languidly turned her head and her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Captain America was approaching her, dressed to swim and looking intently at her.

“Well if it isn’t the birthday boy!” She chirped. “Looking good for a hundred something, Steve.”

In response, Steve casually pulled off his t shirt and sat down at the edge of the pool, dangling his long legs in the water.

Darcy let out what might have been an inhuman noise before she recovered herself enough to say, “those are America’s abs!”

And what abs they were in all their six pack glory. It was all she could do not to drool. She heard a snort from Steve and a giggle from Wanda.

“The cookies were amazing, Darcy,” Steve told her, sounding completely unoffended by her bold statement. “Best I’ve ever had. If you ever get tired of science, well, a Darcy owned bakery would be very well frequented by all the Avengers, especially me.”

“Aww, thank you!” Darcy managed, turning a bit pink again. (Was he eying her up?) “I enlisted the help of Natasha to get them to your place. Once I bribed her with her own cookies, she was very willing to help.”

“If you were trying to get on my nice list, well, you were already on there, just so you know.” Steve told her, sounding more than a touch flirty.

“Oooh! Does this mean I’m on the Extra Nice list?” she playfully asked, very much liking where this was going.

“The very top,” he confirmed. “Figured I’d thank you in person.”

Steve straight up winked at her and his smirk left her in no doubt as to what his intentions were. Darcy almost couldn’t believe it, but it was Steve and the man didn’t lie.

“Get in here, then,” she invited. “The water’s fine and so are you.”

Steve laughed again and slid into the pool, quickly reaching Darcy where she was floating with a pool noodle.

“Nice suit,” he observed, looking her over once again. “Have I ever told you how stunning I think you are?” Darcy straight up blushed.

“Noooooo,” she managed. “I didn’t think you noticed me like that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Darcy,” he breathed as he went in for the kiss.

“Looks like the fireworks are starting early today,” observed a grinning Bucky from the giant pizza slice shaped float he was lounging on.

Wanda glanced at Steve and Darcy, who were quite enthusiastically making out and chuckled.

“Indeed,” she agreed. “Natasha will be very pleased.”

“I already sent her a pic,” Bucky confirmed gleefully. “She is very satisfied. Those two were so clueless for so long. Guess it’s gonna be a very Happy Birthday for America AND Steve.”

[cloudyyoimiya]

omg hi, i’m the anon who requested the continuation of the yandere ranpo fic! i absolutely loved it!! 💜 i’m so glad i was able to brighten your day, i truly do enjoy your writing a lot :)

i reread your continuation post 3 times to really take in the little details, and i am once again obsessed with the subtle implications and feelings of despair in your dark fics! the bit about the ruined pants being darling’s favorite was such a punch to the gut on top of everything else, you’re so good at setting up little instances of tragedy to further darling’s suffering..i love the way that just one or two lines can carry such a dreadful impact!

ranpo is so well written too, his surface level actions are deceptively sweet, but they drip with selfishness and manipulation. he can’t just comfort his darling, he has to use the opportunity to drag them into codependency little by little, associating loving him with safety. yandere ranpo’s childish words take on a whole new menacing meaning that only his victim can truly understand. it’s so easy to rationalize that he simply really doesn’t like lies, until you realize that he will bend this sentiment in whatever way serves him best. he’ll starve his darling if their lie is something he doesn’t like, but the moment the lie is something he wants to hear, suddenly his attitude completely changes. he may like to make ‘romantic’ gestures, like offering to get food for his darling, but it’s still all about him because he immediately accepts the offer that pleases him, even though he's clearly smart enough to know that it's not his darling's true wish. you just capture the selfish nature of a yandere relationship so well, even beneath the layers of faux romance!

ranpo is my favorite bsd yandere because he’s terrifying and virtually inescapable, but he also does it all while maintaining that eerily innocent appearance. he’s literally the most dangerous person his darling has ever met, but somehow he’s also so immature, and that’s scary as hell in its own way! he reminds me of that meme that’s like “please release the hostages” and then the cat with its tongue out is like “blegh, i’m not doing that!” because that’s literally ranpo with his captive darling 💀

the prison threats also distinctly made me picture a scenario where ranpo’s darling snaps at him early on and calls his home their prison (rightfully so), and he’s just like “oh you think THIS is a prison? because i could easily put you in actual prison with a murder charge 😊”

anyway, this isn't a request and you don't even need to respond if you don't feel like it, I simply wanted to drop by and share more of my thoughts on your work 💜 thanks so much for accepting my original request, I was delighted to see it! i hope you have a great night 💜

i know you said that i don’t need to respond but i wanna let you know this made me really happy!

i’ve never really had anyone step back and analyze my fics, so it really makes me happy oh my lord. when i first read this i had a big goofy grin on my face

thank you so much for enjoying my work. it truly means a lot 😭

i won’t lie to you some of the things you pointed out were unintentional for the most part. i knew what i was writing and i knew that it would affect the story, but it was kinda like my brain was on auto pilot as i was writing those things. i’m unsure if that makes sense though LMAO

anyways i’d like to thank you again. have a good day/night anon!

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Okay that other anon with the sweets part is just-AUGAHAUG!! SO CUTE!!

It's very adorable for the entire crew to share and eat their favorite foods for others to try out, well that's what others think but not Stede, he's just very hungry, has a sweet tooth and is fucking hungry as fuck because he's having multiple children haha!

But on a much depressing route, what if Stede didn't want this to happen? What if he thinks he'd be a horrible father and tries ways to...er...get rid of them? (I'm sorry for this but I need drama and I don't want ro be blocked pls I love your account)

Eventually Ed and Izzy find out about this and confront him about it, at first they were mad but once they hear Stede's side of the story about how last time went, Izzy and Ed try to comfort him and help him the best way they can during Stede's pregnancy

-Gentlebeard anon

You’re totally fine! No blocking for that, all good! I like dark narrative posts as much as I do cute ones or kink ones!

Stede doesn’t know how to handle everyone’s apparent delight over the pregnancy. When he figures it out and informs Ed and Izzy, he figures the pair will think similarly to him, only for both to be surprisingly excited. They’re both eager to have a child and look forward to the baby (as they presume at the time), to be born. They even tell the crew before Stede can ask them not to and all of them are excited too, so he feels lost in his own feelings.

As he gets bigger, he begins to look into alternative options. He thinks about throwing himself overboard and making it look accidental, about falling from the crow’s nest, about just not eating despite how fucking starving he always feels. But he knows all of these options will be stopped before they could happen. Ultimately, he procures a specific mixture of herbs the next time they’re ashore and tries to sneak them back onto the ship, only for Ed and Izzy to run into him. They see the herbs and Izzy is quick to figure out what they are.

E: “Whatcha got there?”

S: “Oh, er— nothing. Well, tea. Tea. Just tea.”

E: “That’ll be good for ya’.”

S: “Yes, I’d imagine so—“

I: “Let me see that.” He quickly takes it from Stede before he can stop him. “Marjoram, thyme, parsley, lavender…” He stares at Stede with a look of concern only he and Ed have started to pick up on.

E: “Good smelling tea.”

I: “Dangerous tea.”

S: *feigning disbelief * “Wha-dangerous?”

I: “These herbs are abortifacient.”

E: “What!? That sounds—“ He snatched the tea from Izzy and tosses it away. “Stede, that’s bad! It could make you sick, make the baby sick!”

I: “I suspect he knows that.”

The two quickly put together the truth as Stede struggles not to fall apart right in front of them. They bring him back to the ship and talk everything out, ultimately finding that Stede does want the pregnancy, but he fears how he will be as a father again. They reassure him and, with time, Stede becomes comfortable with the coming future 💕

[fanficimagery]

When Enough is Enough pt. I

Imagine being let down one too many times by your best friend, only to end up making some new ones in the process.

Words: 7.7K

Sometimes when you had a moment to yourself, you often found yourself looking back on how easy things were when you were just in high school. College wasn't a walk in the park, but it did somewhat prepare you for the real world after school. And with you now being a nurse and Peter still doing the superhero gig, you and your best friend hardly had time for each other which left you feeling bummed about it.

But you've finally taken a much needed two week vacation and you couldn't wait to dress in sweats and drink the night away.

Grabbing some fruit from your refrigerator, you set it all out on the counter and get to work. The strawberries need washing and to be sliced, but the black berries and blueberries are fine with just a quick wash. You grab one of the beer mugs from your kitchen cabinets and fill it a little less than halfway with ice. You toss in some strawberry slices, black berries and blueberries. Then turning to the refrigerator, you grab the Malibu Coconut Rum and the Minute Maid Berry Punch. You pour about three shots of the rum into the glass, followed by another three shots of the punch. Then grabbing a Smirnoff Ice Original, you twist off the lid and place the bottle upside down in your mug.

Satisfied with your drink for the time being, you shove a straw into your mug and take it with you as you walk over to your sofa. You groan happily as you take your first sip and then settle down to binge watch some shows you need to catch up on.

Halfway done with your drink, your apartment door opens but you already know who it is since there's only one person with a spare key. Peter jumps over the back of the couch, landing next to you and stealing your mug from your hands. He takes a long sip, grinning as he hands it back over to you. "That drink is dangerous. Tastes too good to stop just at one."

"Hence the reason why I'm drinking it, Parker." You clutch the mug between your hands once more, leaning out of his reach when he makes a grab for it again. "I'm on vacation and I plan to drink until I can no longer keep my eyes open. Hands off."

"Mean. And here I was going to invite you to a party." You freeze mid-sip and raise an eyebrow at your best friend. Peter smirks. "We've both been kind of busy and now that you're on vacation I figured I'd ask and see if you want to be my plus one for Tony's party."

Your lips purse. "Hmm. What kind of party?"

"A normal one?" He shrugs. "It's just the team and close friends of the team. Everyone needs to decompress and they decided to do that with drinks and music."

"Fine. I'm game. But you're packing up the fruits and all my beer mugs, and then we're stopping by the liquor store and Quick Mart to pick up more Smirnoff, Rum and Berry Punch."

"Y/N," he chuckles. "Tony's got drinks there."

"Yeah, but does he have all the ingredients to make my favorite drink?"

"Uh, probably not?"

"Exactly. So chop, chop! Pack it up while I change into clothes worthy of being out in public."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

As you ride the elevator up to the upper floors of Stark Tower, you're at complete ease. Anyone in your position would be a nervous wreck, but you've heard enough stories about them from Peter that you're not.

As the elevator dings open, you and Peter step out with your arms full of bags. Almost immediately, you're approached by Tony Stark. "Parker, you sly dog! It's about time we meet the girlfriend." You and Peter snort, and immediately try to deny his claims, but he bulldozes right over you. "What's with the alcohol? I got everything you could need here."

"First off," you muse, elbowing Peter aside, "I'm the best friend, not the girlfriend." Tony's eyebrows raise before he chuckles. "And secondly, I was already drinking this at my apartment before Peter asked me to come with him. I doubt someone with expensive tastes such as yours has Minute Maid punch and Smirnoffs sitting in the fridge."

"Point," he gestures to you. "Well welcome. Any friend of Peter's is a friend of ours. And I see you got blueberries so I want one of whatever you're making."

"Sure thing, Stark, but just know this was something we came up with in college."

Peter gestures for you to follow him when Tony gets called away and you keep close to him as he leads you to the kitchen. He finds an empty space along the kitchen island and the two of you work on unloading the bags.

"Get me three mugs of ice," you tell him. Peter takes three mugs to put some ice in as you open the containers of fruit. You earn a few curious glances, but you merely grin and nod, and continue to twist open bottles and cartons. Then once you've assembled everything, you toss the fruits into each mug and start pouring the shots of rum and berry punch into them. You put one Smirnoff upside into the first mug and hand it off to Peter. "Take that to Mr. Stark. I'll assemble ours."

Peter grins and heads off, doing as you've said.

You get the remaining two poured very easily and Peter rejoins you just as you insert the straws. Taking his own mug as you pick up yours, you clink your drinks together before taking the longest sip you can. When you need to breathe, you let go of the straw first and Peter fist pumps in victory. "Dick," you mumble.

Two females approach- one with a shy demeanor whereas the other one has a very energetic vibe about her. You're proven correct when she says, "Hey new girl, are you the one making the Smirnoff drinks?"

You nod. "Yeah."

"Mind making one for me and friend here? Stark won't share." You chuckle and nod again. "I'm Darcy, by the way, and this is my friend Wanda."

"Y/N." You introduce yourself as Peter grabs two more mugs to put ice in. "I'm that idiot's best friend," you say while gesturing to Peter's back.

"I heard that!"

"Well I wasn't whispering it." He mockingly pouts at you over his shoulder and you laugh some more.

"Damn. We owe Sam and Bucky twenty bucks."

You glance at Darcy as she begrudgingly starts pulling money out of her back pocket and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda who's grinning. "We thought you were Peter's girlfriend." Her accent makes your smile widen. "Sam and Bucky said there was no way Parker got a girlfriend as beautiful as you."

Your eyes widen and the seemingly shy girl laughs aloud. "Wait, what?" You nervously chuckle. "I'm not drunk enough to be taking compliments from pretty boys like them."

"Boys." Darcy snorts. "Don't let them hear you call them that. They'll be determined to show you how manly they are then."

Peter sets down the mugs in front of you before taking his back up. "You good here? I want to go say hi to some people."

"Go." You shoo him away. "Go mingle. I'm fine."

"Yeah, Spidey. She's good. We'll keep her company," Darcy says. "Go away now."

Peter frowns and you can't resist pinching his cheek, cooing softly at him. "I'm a big girl, Petey. I'll be around. Plus you're walking me home, remember?"

"Fine." He gently swats your hand off his face as you laugh at him. "But please stay with the girls, and don't listen to anything Sam or Bucky says. They're mean to me."

"I'll try my best. Now go away. I have drinks to make."

As Peter leaves with his drink in tow, you finish making both Darcy and Wanda theirs. They happily accept them when you slide the mugs in front of them, groaning in delight after they take their first sip.

"Come on. Lets go get comfortable with the boys and Nat," Darcy says. "Kick off your shoes though. We're sitting in the pit."

You glance around for a place to kick off your shoes until Wanda gestures you towards the corner where other pairs of shoes lie. Then following them over to what they've deemed the pit, you walk down the carpeted stairs and take a seat near Wanda as Darcy hands over some money to Sam.

"Ha!" Sam laughs. "Knew that little twerp couldn't land a lady as fine as her."

Your nose wrinkles at the compliment and Wanda laughs. "Everyone, this is Y/N. Y/N, that's Natasha, Sam and Bucky." She points to each respective individual as she names them and you nod at each of them. "Y/N also doesn't take compliments well."

"It's weird." You're quick to defend yourself, sheepishly shrugging. "I don't like being put on the spot."

Darcy plops down between Bucky and Wanda. "Well too bad. You are a beautiful woman who makes fantastic drinks." She wraps her lips around the straw to sip some more. "Janie is going to be pissed she missed these."

You chuckle and start sipping your own drink.

"So how do you know Spider-Boy?" Sam asks.

"Uh, we grew up together," you say. "I lived next door to his uncle Ben and aunt May, and when he moved in with them we were just drawn together. Been best friends ever since."

"Never once hooked up?"

You splutter at Darcy's question. "N-No!"

"You're lying." Bucky's eyes squint at you and resist the urge to flip him off. After all, you only just met him.

"I'm really not. There might've been a slight crush once upon a time, but no. No hookups."

Natasha grins at you before sipping her beer. "You're a great liar." You gasp in mock offense.

"Who didn't hook-up?" Peter lands next to you, his arm going around the back of your shoulders.

Darcy waggles her eyebrows at you and you snort. "Apparently all your friends-" Bucky and Sam scoff, "and co-workers think you and I have hooked up."

Peter laughs. "Well there was that one time-"

"Peter!"

"WHAT?!" Sam and Darcy shout.

"Knew it." Natasha preens at being right.

You swat at Peter's chest repeatedly. "Dick. I just finished telling them we hadn't."

"What? But how?!" Darcy wonders. "You had me believing you when you said you didn't hook-up. You had Bucky believing it!"

"Y/N is a phenomenal liar," Peter muses. "We got away with so much in high school."

You crack a grin then, you and Peter sharing a fist bump. "Way to make me sound like I lie all the time." Then looking out at those in the conversation pit, you say, "I don't lie on the important stuff. Just the stupid stuff that got us out of school or whether or not Peter and I hooked up. His girlfriends are usually intimidated by me so I had to convince them Petey and I never slept together."

"Are you two.. together?" Wanda then wonders, but you and Peter shake your heads. "How do you remain such good friends afterwards?"

You shrug. "We know each other's deepest secrets. We won't ever not be friends."

"Hold on. Let's get back to the lying thing," Bucky says. "Give me two truths and one lie. I wanna see if you can do that again. And stare me straight in the eyes when you say it."

Sam snorts as you and Peter laugh. "Okay. Hold on. Let me think." You take a moment to think of the three things you're going to say. When you figure it out, you meet Bucky's steely gaze head on. "I was engaged once. My sister married my ex-boyfriend. I swam with sharks where a young shark took a chunk out of my side."

Everyone seems to hold their breath and you can't help but smirk when Bucky's eyes narrow. After a brief moment, he says, "The sister and the ex-boyfriend. While you seem young, being engaged is believable. As is the shark. But there's no way a sibling would marry another sibling's ex."

Your smirk falls and Bucky grins victoriously, only for Peter to burst out laughing. You follow soon after. "If this were a drinking game, you'd have to take a shot."

"What? No way!" Sam exclaims. Bucky looks grumpy once more and Natasha looks impressed.

Peter nods. "It's true. Y/N dumped him for being clingy and not wanting her to speak to me, and he went crawling to her sister months later. They married a couple years after that."

"And you were okay with that?" Wanda frowns.

"I was fine with their relationship. It's not like I was in love with the guy," you admit. "I just hated that she moved him in with us. It made our already cramped apartment even more cramped, which then led to lots of sleepovers at Peter's."

"So that's when the hook-up occurred." You grab a couch pillow and throw it at Sam who catches it with a laugh. Darcy pats Bucky on the shoulder and Sam laughs at his expression. "Well if that wasn't the lie, what was? The engagement?"

"Oh no. I was engaged." You laugh. "For about a month before I realized I didn't actually wanna spend the rest of life with an idiot."

"The lie was the shark bite," Peter tells them. "Y/N's is terrified of the ocean. She can only make it into ankle deep water before she starts to panic."

"Well the ocean is huge!" You defend yourself. "Have you seen those documentaries with the strange noises and shadows at fuck thousand feet below? No thank you."

The group sitting around you all laugh. You decide to get more comfortable then, angling yourself towards Peter and throwing your legs across his lap. He doesn't bat an eye, instead he just raises his arms and sets them back down atop your legs, his free hand tapping a random rhythm on your knee.

The conversation flows easy after that, Tony dragging Clint, Steve and Bruce to be introduced. Once everyone is seated, the group waste no time in asking what it is you do after you refuse to offer up any embarrassing stories about a pre-teen Peter. Darcy is snapping pictures every now and then, getting your Instagram username afterward so she can tag you in a few of the ones she was posting. And when you get the notification on your own phone, you go through liking the photos and following back Darcy, Wanda, Sam and Bucky who had all followed you.

Not even five minutes after of the pictures being posted does Peter's phone ring. You hear his sudden intake of breath and you glance at the screen, your smile dimming at the name and picture there. "Take it," you murmur. He quickly glances at you and you remove your legs from his lap. "It's been what, a couple of months since you last spoke with her? Take it."

Peter grins and then hurriedly stands up, answering the phone call on his way to a quieter portion of the room. Your newly found friends look at you and you paste on a smile. "It's his on again/off again girlfriend. Darcy posted a picture of Petey and I, and I have no doubt in my mind Leslie saw it."

"So she called him?" Steve frowns.

"Yep. And if Petey's still wrapped around her little finger, he'll be leaving in five, four, three, two- and there he goes." You all watch as Peter rushes towards the elevator, a little excited skip to his run. "It never fails. She doesn't necessarily want to be tied down to Peter, but she'll be damned if Petey and I have a good time together."

"Well that's shitty," Darcy mumbles.

"Preaching to the choir, D." You go to sip your drink, only to realize it's empty. You sigh. "And I need a refill."

"Ohh. Me too!" Tony holds his mug up in the air and Darcy grabs it with a laugh.

She and Wanda follow you into the kitchen, and you waste no time in preparing all four drinks once again. Then when the three of you make it back to the conversation pit, Pepper Potts has finally joined the party. Tony is quick to make her try his drink after Darcy hands it off to him, and you can't help but laugh when she wants to keep it for herself. Tony quickly introduces the two of you and then once again Sam and Bucky are needling for anything embarrassing on Peter.

"Knock it off. I'm not going to do Peter dirty like that."

"You mean like he did you dirty by bringing you to this party and then leaving you for another girl?"

"Oh shit."

Everyone goes quiet, eyes wide as they glance between you and Bucky. "Low blow, Barnes. Just for that, you ain't ever getting anything out of me for blackmail on Peter."

The conversation picks up again, you glaring at Bucky every now and then as he smugly grins at you. Steve, Tony, Clint and Bruce end up wandering off again which leaves you, Wanda, Darcy, Pepper, Natasha, Sam and Bucky in the conversation pit.

It's been nearly an hour since Peter has disappeared, so when the elevator dings to signify someone approaching, everyone readily glances in the elevator's direction. The doors slide open and Peter practically skips out.. with Leslie following on his heels in complete and utter awe.

Pepper is too focused on her phone to see those in the pit staring at you with oh shit expressions and you roll your eyes as you finish off your drinks. "Watch it with that one," you mumble. "She's a clout chaser."

Those words catch Pepper's attention, her focus immediately on the girl then and you barely feel any regret uttering those words. You figure Pepper's used to dealing with clout chasers after dealing with Tony Stark's one night stand's so long ago, so you smother a grin when Pepper winks in your direction before getting up and introducing herself to the girl.

"Well that's my cue to head on home." Darcy and Wanda frown. You huff a laugh at them, shaking your head. "Sorry. I've had three of these," you say while gesturing to your empty mug, "so my tongue's a little loose. If she even looks at me wrong, I have a feeling we're going to have a repeat of my junior year in high school."

Sam ooh's. "What happened your junior year?"

"Got a month of in-school suspension." You shrug. "Some bitch kept making cruel remarks to Peter, so one morning I borrowed my sister's class ring and used it to beat the girl's face in. Then when we were separated and our parents showed up, the same girl had the audacity to call me a crazy bitch to her parents when we were walking down the same hallway. I jumped her again."

"Nuh uh. No way," Darcy muses. "You're so nice!"

You snort and Bucky turns around in his seat. "Parker!" You bite your tongue when both Peter and Leslie turn towards your general direction. "What did Y/N do her junior year in high school to earn in-school suspension?"

Peter barks out a laugh. "She broke the ruby stone on her sister's class ring when she punched a girl in the face. Repeatedly."

Story confirmed, Bucky turns back to you and salutes you with his bottle of beer. "Okay. I did not expect that."

Your nose wrinkles as you laugh. "I was a mean girl. College mellowed me out and real life made me a lazy bitch. I'm too stressed to be a petty asshole."

"I'll drink to that," Darcy says.

You try to stay a little longer, but out of the corner of your eye you see Leslie taking selfie after selfie. Her phone is purposely raised too high and the camera's aim is off so she can capture everyone in the background rather than herself. You quietly groan as you roll your eyes. "I really need to go or I'm going to say something and make things awkward."

The group doesn't try to stop you, instead Natasha leans forward to address you. "How you gettin' home?"

"I can walk. It's actually not that far from here."

Bucky shakes his head. "I'll walk you."

"What? No." You frown. "I'm good. You stay and enjoy yourself."

"Give it up," Natasha muses, "he won't take no for an answer. We like you. Let us keep you safe."

You glance at Bucky. "Are you sure? I can honestly get home just fine. I don't want to put anyone out."

Bucky finishes off his beer. "Nah. You're good. I need some fresh air anyway."

Seeing as you're not fighting him on it, Darcy and Wanda get up to bid you a good night. They walk with you back into the kitchen to grab your shoes while Bucky walks over to Steve to tell him what he's going to do. Darcy takes your phone to enter her and Wanda's phone numbers, and she makes the suggestion that you do this again when you're free. You agree and then they make sure to tell Bucky to keep an eye on you when you end up tripping over your own shoelaces.

With her arms crossed over her chest and staring over your shoulder, Darcy says, "You weren't kidding when you said she had him wrapped around her finger." You look to where Darcy gestures and you shake your head in disappointment. "When Bucky mentioned he was taking you home, Peter didn't have anything to say. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but then his attention was drawn right back to Leslie when she let out an obvious huff that someone needed to walk you home."

"That's Leslie and her magical vagina for you."

Darcy and Wanda giggle, and your eyes widen. You can't believe you just said that.

Bucky swings an arm around your shoulders then, chuckling. "C'mon. Let's get you out of here before we have a girl fight on our hands." He leads you into the elevator and you flip off Wanda and Darcy who are both waving and wiggling their eyebrows.

The ride down is quiet, as is the first couple blocks on your way home. Bucky's arm had lowered from your shoulders to hooking through your own arm when you tripped over the curb.

"I didn't peg you as a quiet drunk," he suddenly muses.

"Oh you'd know if I was drunk."

"Yeah?"

"Yep. I'm a sleepy drunk. If I were drunk, you'd be carrying me home." You trip over a crack in the sidewalk, giggling, but Bucky is quick to tighten his hold on your arm so you don't fall. He laughs.

"So what? Is this you tipsy?"

"More or less. I'm a bit more bold for a little while and then I'm on the hunt for food before finding a place to crash."

"A bit more bold? You looked like you were one look away from startin' a fight back there at the tower, sweetheart."

You shrug. "I don't like her."

A beat passes and then, "Is it because you're in love with Parker?" You don't answer right away and take a moment to gather your thoughts. "And answer honestly. I really am curious. Your secret is safe with me," he tells you.

Elbowing Bucky lightly, you say, "I love Peter, but I'm not in love with Peter. He's my best friend. But I don't have to be in love with him to be jealous," you say quietly. "For the longest time it was just Petey and I, then Ned came along and finally MJ. We both had our relationships, but Peter had a habit of choosing his girlfriend over his friends, and that- that hurts."

"Have you told him how you felt?"

"He knows," you admit. "Well not from me, but Ned and MJ confronted him about it. MJ got tired of it first and distanced herself. She said she had better things to do than wait around for a friend who didn't want anything to do with her while he was getting his dick wet." Bucky snorts and you grin. "Well those weren't her words exactly, but you get the drift."

"Yeah I do."

You sigh. "Then Ned told him it wasn't cool to just drop us while his full attention was on a girl who only wanted him hanging out with her friends. Peter tried to do better for a couple months afterwards, but alas Leslie wins. Again."

"I'm sure he was just excited to hear from her after so long. At least that's what I heard you tell him."

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised. "Who are you and where is the real James Buchanan Barnes?"

"What?"

"I don't know, man. I didn't peg you as someone this talkative." Bucky chuckles and a few minutes later you're glancing up at a familiar building. "Well this is me." You unhook your arm from his, smiling at him. "Thanks for walking me. I'm pretty sure I would have either scraped my palms or busted my chin had you not been there to catch me."

"Don't even worry about it. You okay taking the stairs?"

"Pft. Too much cardio. I'll take the elevator."

"Well then I guess this is where I leave you." You mockingly salute him and he shakes his head at you. "Drink some water."

"Yes, sir. See you around, Barnes."

"See 'ya."

Over the next couple of days, you don't really hear from Peter. You text him to grab some dinner with you and to watch a movie, but he ends up telling you he's busy and that's that. Darcy ends up adding you to a group chat with Wanda, Natasha and Pepper, and you end up talking to them more than your own best friend. Surprisingly, none of them are fans of Peter's Leslie. While they can admit the two of them look good side-by-side, it's obvious Peter does anything and everything to keep her in good spirits even if it means putting him in an awkward position.

Admitting you and Peter were backed into two very different corners and not talking at the moment, Darcy suggests another night of drinks. You tell her you have one more week off, but Pepper's too busy running Stark Industries and Natasha is about to go off the grid for a mission. Darcy and Wanda are free, so Darcy says she'll text you the deets.

You had reached out to Peter once more, sighing when he gave you the excuse of spending time in Stark's labs. His hesitation rubbed you the wrong way, so one text to Pepper later confirmed your gut feeling that Peter had not been by all day and, in fact, had texted Tony for date night suggestions instead. So when your night out with Darcy and Wanda comes around, you walk into the bar and quickly find them, then marching up to the table and downing one of the shots there.

You cough, cringe, and then, "Is that vodka? Fuck! You should have warned me."

"You looked like a woman on a mission," Darcy says. "Who am I to get in the way of that?"

You glower at her and then accept the drink Wanda pushes towards you. It's then you notice Sam and Bucky at the table, and you narrow your eyes at them.

"If looks could kill," Sam chuckles. "Don't worry. We're designated bodyguards and drivers tonight. Just pretend like we're not even here."

"Mhm. Move over."

Sam scoffs as Bucky immediately starts pushing him further down the bench seat they're on and you take a seat on the edge. Your knee bounces anxiously beneath the table and Bucky nudges you with his arm. "What's got you so worked up?"

"Peter fuckin' Parker." Darcy and Wanda's nose wrinkle, and you sigh. "I'm just.. so over waiting for my friend to realize I still exist. It sucks to be forgotten about until the one he's devoting all his time to drops him. Then it's like he remembers I still exist and it's back to normal as if nothing ever happened."

"I like Peter," Wanda starts, "but he isn't a good friend."

You shrug. "He's been doing this since high school. It hurts, but I've gotten used to it."

"Screw that. Drink up," Darcy urges you. "No moping tonight."

"I'm down." You salute her with your glass. "To no moping."

"Aw hell," Bucky mutters. "You girls are going to be a handful," he says as he watches you down the complete drink while Darcy and Wanda cheer you on.

Bucky and Sam, being the best designated bodyguards, keep the drinks at a decent pace so none of you over-do it. The second they notice the annoyance drain out of you and you're all lazy smiles, Sam and Bucky sag in relief.

"Okay so FMK," Darcy says. "Y/N, you're up first."

"Ugh." You groan. "Do I really have to answer?"

"Yes. But don't worry, Sam and Bucky won't be one of the candidates." You smile at their offended heys! "We don't need to feed their egos."

"Alright. Hit me!"

Wanda giggles as Darcy offers up your choices. "Tony, Clint, and Thor."

"Oooh," you drawl. "Fuck Thor because you know, he looks like he'd dom the shit out of you behind closed doors." Sam snorts and Bucky glances at you, eyebrow raised. "Marry Clint because he's goofy as fuck. That'd be a fun marriage. And sadly kill Tony because you know, he's got Pepper. Hoes before bros. You don't do that to a fellow lady."

"I think you got the saying backwards there, Y/N." Sam laughs. "It's bros before hoes."

"Is it? Is it really?" You take a long sip of your drink, eyes twinkling in the low light. "Wanda's turn!" You then muse. You look at her, smirking. "Your choices are Steve, Peter, and Bruce."

She pouts at you and you can't help but laugh. She sighs. "Kill Bruce just because he's definitely not my type." You and Darcy giggle. Wanda hums. "I'm sorry, but I'd do Peter just so it's a one and done. And then marry Steve."

You coo at her. "Wanda Rogers. It has a nice ring to it."

Wanda blushes, but then she turns on Darcy. "Your turn. Sam, Bucky, and Peter."

"Hey! We're not supposed to offer up these two idiots as candidates," she says while gesturing to said two idiots.

Bucky and Sam merely grin, awaiting her answer. When you or Wanda don't budge, she rolls her eyes. "Fine. Kill Peter, fuck Bucky and marry Sam."

"You answered that way too quickly." You laugh, Sam and Bucky's smugness not going unnoticed. "But you know, same. Cheers to good taste!" You and Darcy tap your glasses together, breaking down into giggles afterward.

Bucky shakes his head fondly at the three of you. "You girls have no shame when you've got liquor in you."

You, Darcy and Wanda all share a look before you're laughing once more.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

The night goes on with Darcy asking the most asinine questions she can think of. This group of people you've only met days before now know several of your sexual preferences and kinks thanks to the giggly brunette, but it was all admitted in good fun and no one teased you about it. You also know them on a more personal level and you can't believe some of the stories that leave Bucky or Darcy's mouths.

Wanda seems to be the photographer of the night and her favorite picture to take is you getting into Bucky's personal space and attempting to earn a smile from him. You managed to get one after a couple of hours- hours spent threatening to lick his face. You ended up face to face with him, staring him down, and when he said you wouldn't.. you did. It was nothing more than a kitten lick to the tip of his nose, but it was enough to send everyone into hysterical laughter. Wanda was just grateful she managed to catch the whole thing on video instead of a picture.

As Sam and Darcy went to grab another round from the bar, you glanced around the cramped building and leaned into Bucky. "I'll be back."

"Where you going, doll?"

"Bathroom. There's always a line for the ladies bathroom so it might take me a while."

"Need an escort?"

You chuckle and shake your head. "I'm fine. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours about me."

At his nod, you squeeze his arm with assurances that you'll be back soon before scooting out of the booth. You make your way towards the back of the bar, sighing at the line down the hallway. So taking your spot in line, you lean against the wall and immediately pull out your phone.

Scrolling through Instagram, you like the few photos Darcy and Sam have posted. Wanda even posted the video of you and Bucky, and it makes you grin as it plays over and over. Although as you look at the number of likes and comments, you kind of wish the Avengers didn't have public social media.

After nearly ten minutes of waiting in line, it's finally your turn. It's a great relief to be inside the small room and then after doing your business and washing your hands, you're on your way back towards your booth. Only you've barely exited the hallway when there's a body sliding in front of you.

"Hey." You jerk to a stop, frowning at the stranger before you. "So not to be creepy, but I saw waiting in line earlier and I was wondering if I could buy you a drink."

The guy is good looking, but under the current circumstances you just want to get back to your booth. "Sorry, but my friends have me taken care of." You step aside in order to go around him, but he reaches out to capture your wrist. You jerk out of his hold. "Don't touch me."

Though you're obviously disgruntled, the guy laughs. "Come on, sweetheart, don't cause a scene. It's just a drink."

"First off, I'm not your sweetheart." He huffs. "And secondly, this scene could have been avoided if you took no for no instead of trying to pressure me until I say yes. I was willing to let your sudden introduction slide, but now? Now this is creepy. This is actually borderline harassment!"

"Whoa. Calm down, you fuckin' harpy. All I wanted was to buy you a drink and talk."

You take a step towards him, eyes glaring. "And I told you my friends had me taken care of."

Whatever Stranger Danger had planned to say dies on the tip of his tongue as an arm wraps around you from behind. But not just any arm. Oh no. A very infamous metal arm.

Bucky's arm reaches around in front of you from your left side, his hand then encompassing your right shoulder. As Stranger Danger seems to gape in fear, you can't help but lean back into Bucky's chest as your hands reach up to hold onto his arm as it rests across your chest. "Is there a problem here, doll?"

"I'm not sure. This guy can't seem to take no for an answer and that apparently makes me a fuckin' harpy now," you say.

Bucky gently squeezes your shoulder. "Hey asshole, we still got a problem here?"

"Oh, uh, no." He steps back. And then takes several more steps back. "Sorry."

As soon as he turns tail and books it back to his own group of friends you burst into laughter. You feel Bucky's own laughter against your back and you lay your head back against his shoulder while glancing up at him. "Should I feel special? I feel special," you say. "You took your sleeve off in order to scare the piss outta some douchebag."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get back to the table. I'm pretty sure Sam, Wanda, and Darce started recording the moment I stood up."

"I can see the caption now," you say as Bucky starts to lead you to the table in question. "Sergeant Barnes saves drunken fool from being creeped on. Ovaries are going to explode all over the world. There's going to be so much fanfiction about this moment."

"Fanfiction?"

"Uhh.. don't worry about it."

"I wasn't, but now I'm interested given your reaction."

"Oohh." Darcy perks up. "Interested in what?"

"Nothing!"

"What fanfiction is?" Sam snorts as Wanda frowns, and Darcy practically bounces in her seat. Wanda scoots down the U-shaped bench towards Sam's side and Darcy scoots down as well. Bucky nudges you into the seat and he plops down right next to you before placing his arm on the back of the seat right behind you. "So what is it?"

"They are stories written by fans."

"Darcy!"

"Usually about fictional characters, but some people write about real life people. It's almost always a fantasy of theirs."

You groan and then reach over to pinch Bucky's nipple when he asks, "You write any fantasies of your own, Y/N?"

"Shut up."

He laughs at you, placing a hand over his pec to keep you from pinching him again. "No? So you read them. You obviously must do if you know what fanfiction is."

"You know Tony pays someone on the down low to write smut about him?" Darcy admits.

"What?!" You turn towards her, laughing hysterically. "If it's on the down low, then how do you know?"

"Mama's got her ways." Sam snorts at her. "And FRIDAY is one of my bff's."

For a moment all is well and then Bucky nudges you again. "So which ones did you read?"

"Oh my god," you groan. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

Bucky smirks. "Not a chance."

"Then fine. Yes I read some fanfiction back in my high school days. I was really into vampires back in the day, the whole fangs really did it for me, so I read a lot about the Lost Boys. And Twilight even though they didn't have fangs."

"Twilight?!" Sam guffaws.

You hide your face in the palms of your hand. "I know! But to be fair, I was all about that Jasper guy and that werewolf dude Paul. I didn't really care for the other characters."

Wanda grins. "Jasper was the most handsome of the Cullen coven."

"Yes!" You look up at her. "Thank you."

"Now that is something I will cheers to." Darcy passes you a drink and you raise it alongside hers and Wanda's. "To Y/N's fang festish!"

"Hey!"

          - - - - - - - - - - 

Sam and Bucky call it a night a couple hours later when you can't quite keep your head up and move between laying your head on Darcy and Bucky's shoulders.

Between the two of them, they manage to herd you, Darcy, and Wanda into a car that was parked around the corner. However the second you were pushed into the middle seat, you lean forward and tap Sam on the shoulder. "Can we get some chicken nuggies?"

"It's three in the morning!"

You sniffle. "But I want some nuggies."

"We'll get you some nuggets," Bucky says. "Now sit back so Sam can drive."

"Yes, sir."

Darcy and Wanda giggle as you sit back, and that's the last thing you remember.

The next time you wake up, you realize you're on the floor. But given the plush carpet beneath your cheek, it's not any floor in your apartment. You groan as your temples throb and you can already feel the bile in the back of your throat threatening to come up.

"What the fuck," you mumble. Your stomach lurches and you clamp your mouth shut.

"Well it seems I missed one hell of a night out." You angle your face towards the voice, stomach lurching once again when you see Tony eating a plate of food not too far from you. "Barnes and Wilson brought you back here because you were totally wasted. They didn't want you to choke on your vomit."

You gag. "Please don't say- say that word." Tony laughs at your pain. "Where are the girls?"

He points with his fork. "Behind you. You might not be able to see them over all the McDonald's trash. You girls really packed away all those nuggets. Even Steve was impressed when he got back in."

"Ugh. I'm never drinking with them again." You roll onto your side, but the movement makes the room tilt. You stop and inhale, then exhale deeply. "Mind if I sleep it off right here? If I move I'm gonna barf."

"Knock yourself out. I'll have FRIDAY warn everyone off for a few more hours."

"Yesss. You're a good man, Stark."

He gasps. "FRIDAY, did you catch that? Send the recording to Pepper. She'll be so proud."

You did not break your vow of over drinking again, instead you stuck to early evening dinner with Wanda and Natasha (when she was in town) after Darcy got called away to take some readings out in a desert. And since that night where Bucky saved you from a drunken fight, he had somehow ended up with your number and would text you randomly throughout the day. Part of you played it cool, but the other part of you was very flattered that Bucky Barnes was sending you good morning and good night texts.

Then the weekend before you are to return back to work, you decide to treat yourself to brunch before you have to go home and clean.

You're sitting on the outside patio, waiting for your food to come out as you sip on your orange juice. You take a selfie, tagging your location as you post it to Instagram with the caption that you're treating yourself to all the food you can stomach before you have to return to adulting come Monday morning. Then when the waitress comes out bearing your honey raspberry and banana ricotta toast, and your breakfast casserole, you happily sigh and thank her for the quick service. You take another picture, post it, and then dig in, laughing at the comments and texts from your friends who sarcastically thank you for the invite.

You haven't even made a dent in the casserole when a shadow falls over you. You glance up mid-chew, grinning at the sight of Bucky. "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, swallowing the food that's in your mouth before addressing him. When it's gone with a little help from your juice, you ask, "What are you doing wandering around?"

"Peter's girl was at the tower, waiting for him to finish up something with Tony," he says. You snort, already figuring out something must have gone wrong. "She was mooning over Stevie and Sam said my bitch face was too obvious, so they sent me out."

"And you just happened to find me?"

"Well you did tag your location which is something we're gonna have to talk about soon."

"Oh whatever." You playfully roll your eyes. "Now shut up and help me eat this food. I see you eying the toast." Bucky smirks and readily takes one of the toasts, eating half of it in one bite. His eyes widen as a slight groan escapes and you chuckle. "Right? It's so good. I think this is going to be my go-to place from now on."

Bucky picks up a spare fork, then digs into the breakfast casserole and you laugh at his willingness to eat your food. There's very little talk as the two of you finish the food, and only after it's gone does Bucky ask, "Is Parker still a no-show to your hangouts?"

"We actually hung out two days ago," you say, "but he was only there for ten minutes before Leslie needed him to escort her to her friend's party." Bucky shakes his head and you shrug. "It is what it is. At least I got you guys out of this whole ordeal."

"You totally got the kids out of the divorce."

You snort and then glare at Bucky for making you do so in the first place. "Shut up. Petey and I are good. He's just preoccupied at the moment."

"If you say so, doll."

Clearly done with the food and ready to move on, you wave down your waitress for the check. However, before she can hand you the small folder, Bucky snatches it and shoves a single bill in there while telling her to keep the change. You know the bill he shoved in there must have been a large one given the widened eyes of the waitress when she sees it.

"Smoothe, Barnes," you muse as you stand. "But you do know I could have paid for my own food, right?"

"Yeah, but I figured I'd pay considering I crashed your alone time." He stands as well, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. You take off walking in the direction you know your apartment is. "So you got any plans for the rest of the day?"

"Cleaning and laundry. Apparently ever since I've met this new group of people, I've put off my household duties." Bucky huffs a quiet laugh. "I plan to clean today and laze around tomorrow before I go back to work on Monday."

"Laze around, huh?" He pauses a moment and then asks, "Want some company? I'll bring the food."

You glance up at him, right eyebrow raised in amusement before you hook your arm through his. "Bucky Barnes, a man after my own heart." He chuckles as you mockingly swoon. Then straightening up, you nod. "Sure you can come over. I don't mind."

"I'm coming over for lunch and dinner, so what are you going to want?"

"Won't the others wonder where you are?"

Bucky shrugs. "Stevie's been buggin' me to get out. He'll be ecstatic."

You laugh. "Barnes, when they tell you to get out I think they mean out and about in public. Not from one enclosed space to another."

"Baby steps."

"Baby steps my ass," you muse. "But yeah, bring whatever food you like. Surprise me."

He smirks. "Okay. Will do."

[buckyownsmylife]

Don't Breathe - Chris Evans smut

The one where your best friend and your boyfriend are fucking behind your back.

Warnings: smut, cheating, chris x your best friend, humiliation?, chris is an asshole in this, exhibitionism, the betrayal is real

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this is sort of a companion piece to breathe, hence the same picture. While that one explores the extremes of loyalty, this one explores the extremes of betrayal. I also couldn't bring myself to create another moodboard. I wrote this story in one sitting, in the last anxiety episode I had and it helped me get to the place I am today - a better place than I was before, so while I'm grateful for it, I'm only publishing this to give myself some closure. I haven't edited it. I haven't asked anyone to beta read it for me because I simply can't look at it anymore. But it might help some of you, and it might even arouse some others (yes, there are people who have cheating kinks. Let's all be grown-ups and accept that sexuality is a complex and difficult thing. I won't accept kinkshaming in this blog). I only ask that you do not ask me about this story, how it came to be or any sort of part two's because I literally can't stand to look at it. Thanks, you guys!

“Bitch really has no idea, huh?” Chris chuckled as he welcomed his mistress on his lap, licking his lip at the sight of the voluptuous body on top of his. He’d been dreaming about it for a while now, imagining it was her he was fucking when she was away and he had to fuck his girlfriend.

“Not a clue.” He was a bastard, he knew it. He was a son of a bitch, a good for nothing. He didn’t deserve to ever be happy again, not after this, but he couldn’t come to regret it. Not when your best friend was rubbing her cunt against his dick so sensuously, tempting him with her full pout and big breasts.

“She’s always been dumb,” she commented, like she wasn’t speaking about the woman she claimed to love more than anything in the world. Maybe that should have worried Chris, but for whatever reason, it just made him harder.

He really wasn’t worth shit.

“Can’t even figure out that every time we disappear at a party, I’m really just sucking your dick.” Chris chuckled as he buried his thumb on her mouth, chuckle turning into a groan as the beautiful woman twirled her tongue around his digit.

“I mean, this was how it started, wasn’t it, baby?” He reminded her. “You ditched her in the middle of the club to meet me in the bathroom and offer some help with the package I’d been hiding in my pants… Didn’t even have the time to doubt it before you were dropping to your knees and crawling towards me.”

The little vixen smirked at the memory, face suddenly lighting up as she let go of my dick to get out of bed. “Hey!” He complained, still smiling because he could see she was up to no good. “Where are you going?”

She had my phone in her hands when she climbed back to bed, a perfectly plucked eyebrow high in her forehead as she typed away in it. He’d never let you learn the password but what could he possibly hide from his mistress?

“Call her.” It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement, since when she threw the phone on his chest, it was already ringing. A panicked look broke free on his face before he shook his head, smirking at her insanity.

Goddamn it if it didn’t make him harder than he’d ever been before.

“Hello?” Your sweet voice was the perfect dichotomy to the act he was partaking in, and he had to bite his lip so you wouldn’t figure out what was happening as your best friend leaned over his cock to take it in her mouth.

“Hey, honey,” Chris greeted, trying to keep his voice as smooth as possible. He could totally do this. He was an actor, after all.

“Is something wrong?” You questioned, and for a second both him and your friend froze, fearing you’d heard something. “You just left, I figured you wouldn’t call me until tomorrow.”

Chris chuckled lightly at your innocence - and the clear happiness you felt at him deciding to call so soon. He already knew what to say to plunge the knife even deeper into you.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, biting his lip again as your best friend swallowed his cock. “Just missed you.” He didn’t miss the smirk on her eyes. She didn’t need to speak or even stop sucking him for him to know that she was enjoying this, so he kept going, entertaining you with mindless conversation until you remembered you actually had to call her.

“Oh, I promised I’d call her… We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” You assured him, blissfully unaware of the betrayal you were suffering. “Bye, baby. I love you.” You disconnected the call before he could even lie about that too, but a few minutes later her phone began ringing.

She was still giggling when she picked up, now having stopped sucking him to rub her tight wet cunt against him again, teasing them both. “Bitch, you’ll never guess,” she greeted as soon as you said hello, and just as you asked what was up, she lowered herself down on Chris’ cock.

Your man’s cock. While she was talking to you. “I’m fucking someone right at this second.” He could hear your stunned silence, but you knew your friend had always been crazy - especially sexually.

It was the difference between the two of you that made him so obsessed.

“And he doesn’t mind?” You asked, clearly surprised, and Chris almost laughed when your best friend answered, “Oh, no. He gets off on it. Would you mind staying in line and listening for a bit? He’d really enjoy it.”

You hesitated only for a moment before agreeing, and that’s when she allowed herself to moan out loud. “God, what a fucking dick!” She cursed, fingernails gripping his pecks as she rode him for dear life. “I swear to god, you have no idea how it feels like to be fucked like this.”

You remained silent. Chris could almost picture it, the way you had one fingernail in your mouth, chewing on it as you tried to decide between keeping your promise and listening to your best friend fucking (your) man or leaving the phone on and going to do the laundry.

You were such a perfect girlfriend. So devoted, everything Chris should marry. His family loved you - hell, he thought he loved you. And here he was, fucking your best friend while you listened to her moans of pleasure.

He felt her eyes trailing down his body and he already knew what she wanted. They were a perfect match in bed. He manhandled her onto her stomach, knowing you were listening to her surprised scream and loud moan as he penetrated her from behind.

“So, so good…” She moaned. Chris had no doubt her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. “Would you ever stop fucking me, baby?” She teased, making Chris chuckle, knowing the sounds of his hips slapping against her full ass were drowning his voice from you. “Would you ever stop fucking my tight little pussy?”

He leaned over her, body completely enclosing hers in bed when he gripped her jaw to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance in hell.” Her delighted moan made it all worthy to him. He pulled out of her to turn her around once more, spreading her legs so he could have a taste of her pussy.

Eyes connected, he watched her reach for the phone and take it off the speaker so she could talk to you properly. “This guy eats pussy like a pro,” she informed you while Chris grinned between her legs, her fingers tangled in the strands of your boyfriend’s hair. “And he tells me it’s the best pussy he has ever had, don’t you, baby?”

Chris could only nod, obsessed with the taste of her sweet pussy on his tongue, the loud sounds of slurping undoubtedly reaching you. He could only imagine how you were feeling, confused and maybe a little bit aroused. It was like sound porn, after all - and it was starred by your very own boyfriend, but you had no idea.

He hummed against her pussy. You could never taste as sweet, try as you might. Even her painted lips tasted better, and he knew it wasn’t because of the lipstick she wore since you two often shared.

She moaned loudly when he shoved two fingers inside of her, having memorized her sweet spot ages ago, when this still made him feel bad and he’d often hurl when he got home to find you in bed, waiting for him.

And yet, he couldn’t stop. He waited for her to turn off the call so he could climb back up her body, kissing every inch of the way until he was buried deep inside her tight pussy again.

“You make me crazy,” he whispered, knowing this would never be enough. He would never get his fill of her. He might love you in one way or another, but he wanted her, and he would never let her go.

[inviouswriting]

Sinful Writings

Kind of specific but I need some things.

Simeon x fem!reader

Smut

Bonding with him over writing is something he looked forward to, Simeon overjoyed that another person shares that same passion for writing. Even more as a hobby, like his is. He invites you over often, you shared with him tame pieces you’ve written. 

As your relationship had grown with the angel, you wondered if he would read your other stories. The ones you keep hidden away from other eyes. Under a special name.

Simeon notes how relaxed you are laying half on his legs with your upper half towards his feet. You had your device of choice in front of you, and he gets curious to see what you are working on. You are dressed down for the night in a shirt and underwear.

One of his hands pokes at your calf to get your attention. You save your progress and look over to him, you had been staring at the page. Your angel realizing you are stuck.

“May I see what you have?” The color in your face reddens, Simeon sees the rapid change as you look like you got caught doing something naughty in the presence of the angel. He catches on quick, and you see his smile widen at catching you.

“Oh? Is this something you can’t share with an angel?” He teases, and straightens up to collect you into his arms. You allow him to change the way you are laying to cuddle with him.

“Um... a little.” You answer him finally. Now he really wanted to see what it is that makes you blush.

“May I?” He asks for your permission, rubbing his face affectionately against yours. You soak his attention up, and find it hard to say no when he uses his eyes and affection to ask nicely.

You hand over the written work you were doing. He takes it and goes to the beginning to read it fully rather than the spot you had just finished writing. You are nervous as he reads it, shifting down to fit more into his side, resting your head to his chest. 

One of his hands rests on top of your head; running through your hair, teasing around an ear. You didn’t chance a glance to his face right now, you know your face is still warm and colored pink from the fact he is reading it. 

The piece you were doing was an internal fantasy you’ve had of the angel. You know he is figuring out that the pair is you and him when that hand that was tracing around an ear moves to the back of your neck. A spot you have written you enjoy when he touches it. His thumb dances over it, mirroring what he is reading. 

You notice a raise in his heartbeat, and he shifts to uncross his legs Simeon was feeling his shorts a little tighter than he’ll admit to. You thrum your fingers along his stomach, teasing him a little with a few delicate pokes along his exposed sides. It isn’t until he sets your writing down on the nightstand that he had finished reading. 

Simeon taps his fingers along your neck, wanting your attention on him now. He had removed his hands briefly but you noticed he isn’t wearing his gloves anymore. You two have been intimate before, having broken that ice on your own when you stayed the night with him.

You look up at him, and see a serene look to his eyes, but also mischief. A little bit of pink on his cheeks, but that look to his eyes is specific, you know that expression. 

“I take you like it?” You chance, and he tugs you up to him to place a kiss to your lips.

“Love it, have you written alot of sinful little things like this and haven’t shown me?” You cast your eyes away, and Simeon has his answer.

“Hmm... you’ve been holding out on me. But what has you stuck where you can’t finish it?” He rubs your side as he shifts you to sit on his waist, on the bulge earning a soft groan out of him. 

“I am stuck on what sort of things to include... I’m sorry for holding out, I didn’t know if you would want to read those stories...” You feel his hands at your waist guiding you to grind on his lap. You can feel him hard against your core, you bite your bottom lip a little at wanting to feel him. Simeon wants to tease, and you can tell from his stare.

“Because of my being an angel?” You nod a little, he lifts one hand up to your face and cups it. 

“If it is about us, I want to read all of it. I’d love to know the thoughts you keep hidden away or are too shy to share with me verbally. I think I know how to help break that mini writer’s block if you’d like some ideas.” You feel the love radiate off him.

“What do you have in mind?” His hands move your hips a little harder on his lap. Simeon enjoying you like this, his hands smooth up to where your shirt just covers the front of your underwear and slips his hands over the front to your breasts. You press closer to his palms when they cup and squeeze them getting a moan out of you. You didn’t worry about volume with how late at night it is. 

“I think you’ll enjoy my surprises. May I ask that you lay on my knees like earlier?” You look at him confused, and how you were with your head towards his feet. You feel his fingers squeeze your nipples gently. Tugging them till you squeeze your thighs on his waist grounding yourself to him. The bump of his cock providing the right feel as you try to ride him through both his shorts and your underwear. He follows your motions, wanting to get that first orgasm out of the way.

Simeon helps arrange you so you feel his cock through your folds as you reach your hands down to part your folds to feel him as close to your entrance as possible even centering him to almost push in. He feels the damp slick as it glides against his shaft. He almost wants to tug both aside to properly feel you, but he had alot in mind for playing with you. 

You center yourself and bounce on him, your hands splay on his abdomen, you bite your lip desperately wanting him inside you, you feel the tip against the hole and push down. You feel even with the fabric separating you two, him barely inside, enough to get you off with. Simeon’s hands are on your waist holding it still as he thrusts up to meet you.

“I need you inside... please...” You plead him, and you see him lick his lips in agreement, the pleasure too addictive. You raise your hips enough for Simeon to tug his shorts down enough and you tug aside your panties. You sigh whenyou line him and slide down his shaft. He throbs nice and twitches wild inside. You see Simeon’s eyes close as you resume bouncing on his lap and he meets you with eager thrusts.

You both are wild, he wanted to do something else before he sank into you, but he thought of some other things to enjoy. Simeon hears you hold your voice low, into small whimpers of pleasure. His hands move to tug off your top throwing it off the bed. 

The angel angles your hips forward and sees you toss your head back in bliss, your mouth parted as sighs escape. You clasp your hands over your mouth when you feel one hand down to slip under your panties to rub at your clit. His other hand tweaks at a nipple till your hips move shakily on his.

Simeon keeps it up, he watches your every move, and nuance you make waiting for that one expression. When he sees your eyes lower and you look down to meet his blue eyes. He sees the haughty stare, the one you make right before you cum for him.

“Feels good right? Go ahead, on my cock and hand.” His words enough to make you shudder and push down to feel every inch, the wide tip close to your cervix. You feel good, very good like heat and pleasure through your spine till it ends on his hand in a mild squirt. You cover your face when you manage it, but Simeon tugs your hands away to see you so lost in pleasure.

Simeon follows after, pushing his hips up and tugging yours down to feel right at your womb separated by that wall. You feel hot cum spill into you from him, you see his face entranced by yours that he had peaked just from how you squeeze so nice on him.

You feel an overwhelming shyness hit you at the way he is staring. Covering your face, only to have both hands seize yours tugging them away gently.

“That felt amazing... Would you be willing to try what I have in store now?” Simeon asks, wanting to know if you want to continue. He wanted you while you are sensitive. 

“Yeah, kiss me first?” The angel leans up and kisses you deep. You feel his lips nibbling on yours as you shift yourself to have him pull out. He tugs the shorts he wears down more. Then breaks the kiss urging you to follow his earlier instructions.

You do, you were about to take off the soaked panties till his hands stop you.

“Leave them on. I can’t do it without them.” You are confused, but leave them in place as you lay over his knees. He props them up so your front is angled down his legs. Simeon reaches over to the nightstand, and tugs out a egg bullet vibrator that he had purchased for one of your wild nights together.

The angle Simeon has you in, you feel the vibrator on your ass as he has it on. You feel him trace circles along the flesh. He tugs the panties up more to expose more flesh to his eyes and ministrations. For a moment he rests the toy on his own abdomen. You feel his fingers as he tugs the soaked crotch of your panties aside and spreads your folds open as wide as he wanted to see. 

You are glad you are facing away from Simeon, you would lose your nerve with him staring at your pussy like this, the hole exposed, and to his delight his seed leaking out. He would be adding to it anyway. You hear a happy hum behind you as he lifts the toy from his own abdomen and brings it up to your pussy. You soon feel the vibration against your clit, the end of it being rubbed in circles around the sensitive nub. 

“Simeon!” You call out his name, feeling him hold the egg there with his palm rocking it against the full of your clit and folds. You feel him tug the panties up and hold the egg in place, even using his knees to keep your legs apart as you fidget and ground down to the toy.

You moan freely, your hands gripping his ankles while his hands moved away to hold your legs from trying to move the toy off where he has you. 

“My lamb, you’re so soaked now.” He watches you as another smaller orgasm rocks your body from the vibrator. You ache for something inside you again, that you try shifting to get the egg closer, but Simeon holds you still to keep you from doing so.

“Hmmm, not yet my love. You can use my knee.” You feel his hands again, on your rear, tugging your underwear up so the egg sits right, and he moves his knee to hold it in place centering the vibrator right against your clit. You squirm and sigh in need of him. 

Simeon enjoys the sight of you like this, your head down on your arms as you muffle your moans into his leg. The angel tugs your panties enough to see how your hole drips with slick, he presses two fingers inside and you squeeze them. You want to feel them deeper, but he tugs his fingers back to just play with the ring of the hole.

You felt like you were about to cum again, Simeon could tell from the way your walls grip his fingers when he pushes them inside. He licks his lips as he wants to bring you over that edge again and again. 

You feel your thighs shake as you try hard to hold back, but Simeon curls his fingers towards your belly, and thrusts his fingers against a spot he knows, that has you undone and combined with the egg against your soaked folds you bury your face into your arms as you cum hard again. Simeon keeps his hand moving to feel the gush against his hand. He did not care about being soaked, he even chuckles at the way you try to hold your moans back.

“Let it all out for me. Keep cumming for me.” Simeon is addicted to making you like this, legs shaking with need that only he can relieve. That mindless bliss he sends you into that your head is fuzzy and you absolutely ache for him. So much you sigh in relief when his fingers tug out after you unclench them. He moves the egg from your clit when you squirm away from it when he teases the end at your clit again.

“My angel... I need you...” You look over your shoulder to him.

“I know you do. Patience for now, trust me. Let me have my fun and I’ll keep giving you one orgasm after the next.” He says it so sweet, and you nod to his request. The egg vibrator he has, he moves it to the entrance of your pussy and rolls it along your folds till he presses the narrow end inside. You jolt a little feeling it being pushed inside at his gentle urging.

“This is okay right?” He checks with you, and you nod, letting him push the device in. He uses his fingers to guide it in as deep he wanted it to be, he enjoys the view of your pussy stretched around the egg. With your position still, it gave the perfect angle to rest right against your g-spot. 

Simeon begins to tug your panties off, he had his fun with them and now he wants them entirely off of you. He tosses them off along with his own shorts after arranging you off of him momentarily. Simeon arranges you towards the edge of the bed, and he kneels down to have your legs draped over his shoulders.

The angel wastes little time after you had two orgasms and kisses your folds. You jolt up when you feel his fingers push back inside bumping the vibrator against your spot, making sure to please you well. His other hand wraps around his own cock and pumps himself. 

You are a mess of pleasure, from his mouth on you, to his fingers pushing that vibrator just right. Your hands go into Simeon’s hair and rubs through it earning happy moans. You realize he is pleasing himself, and you want to return the pleasure he has given you.

“Simeon... can I suck on you?” You ask him, you see a blue eye peek up, he looks cute as his tongue circles your clit. He thinks of how you can do it so he can continue to play with you like this. 

“Yeah. Do you want me to be over you or under you?” He leaves the position up to you as he gives another loving kiss to your folds and disentangles himself. He wants your mouth too.

“Over me, my legs are a little sore from kneeling.” He nods and guides you to lay back on his bed, your head down towards the foot of the bed again. Simeon grabs his pillows and shoves off the blankets to one side to not soil them. Once you are situated, you moan out when you shift your hips up to how Simeon wants them, the egg pushing down towards the entrance. You do your best to keep it inside while Simeon crawls over you.

You relax with your angel over the top of you, and he guides his cock down to your lips. You feel the plush head against them and part your lips for him. You tease the tip with the end of your tongue sweeping it around to feel the flared swollen edge of his glands. He fit so well and had a perfect cock to suck on.

You bring your hands up finally to touch him, the skin of his shaft a bit darker than the rest of his body except the very tip was a faint pinkish red. From the moment your mouth engulfed his aching cock you felt it twitch as he gently thrusts into your mouth. 

Simeon busies his mouth back down on your folds, devouring them like he is starved for you, listening to your pleas for more around his dick in your mouth. Pressure was building in your belly again, and you push up to his mouth, Simeon swirls his tongue over the hard nub of your clit dragging it back and forth to circles leaving no spot untouched or untasted by him.

One of his hands moves to push the egg that was peeking out of your hole back in, he feels mild resistance with you on verge of another orgasm, he feels your thighs move closer to him and he keeps them apart as he pleases you full.

You continue to suck on him, you relaxed your throat enough to allow him to thrust into your mouth freely without choking or gagging you. You have one hand just above your nose playing with his balls squeezing them and rolling them with your fingers earning timed moans when you squeeze at the base of his cock.

Simeon feels your tongue swirl around the tip, delving the very end against the slit there to coax more precum out tasting sweet yet salty. The angel repeats your ministration with your clit before moving his mouth down to run his tongue around the stretched ring of your pussy. 

Your mind muddles with more pleasure feeling Simeon ease the egg almost out of you. He keeps it halfway in holding it with his palm as he focuses it there at an angle. You shudder and feel his mouth back on your clit rapidly licking at it till your legs shake again and the orgasm he had been building in you overtakes you. 

Your angel is there placing his mouth to taste the fluid you let out. You moan and whine around his cock as he tugs himself free from your mouth. He grips his own base to prevent himself from cumming right there a loud groan out of him as he pumps himself to ease the sensation down, but grips his base. You see precum mixed with cum dribble out, and you edge him on by pressing your tongue to the tip to catch it. 

This move makes him lose the control he had, and ropes of white cover your face. Simeon sighs and had let all he had pent up out, some of it catching into your waiting mouth, the rest either on your cheeks where you rub it against his cock or lips as you milk him of more. You place a kiss at the end of the tip before resting your head on the bed itself to breathe.

Simeon sits up and looks down at you covered in his seed, his face flushes pink at seeing you with it on your face. You move to sit up, but Simeon playfully pushes you back down. You question him with a stare until he moves to settle between your legs. He pulls off his own top he still had on.

You understand without words that he isn’t done yet, and he begins to tease your clit again, you wriggle from him assisting removing the egg out of you and turns it off. He didn’t need anymore help from the device to make you have one more orgasm he will give you. He does that well on his own.

Simeon’s mood changes from that playful demeanor he had earlier to much sweeter and loving. He is softer in his touch on your pussy rubbing gentle circles and coaxing your body to relax and be ready for him. 

There is always a little anxiety when he lines himself to you, though he has been within you plenty of times, it never erased that one feeling as he pushes in. The stretch he does different than the egg ever did. Simeon is thicker all around, and long enough that even when you felt him earlier it didn’t change how it felt in this moment.

One of his hands seeks yours and holds it above your head lacing his fingers with yours. Simeon begins to move with you, and thrusts slow at first. Always slow at first despite all his teasing and playing with you, you could handle him rough right now but he didn’t want to be rough.

You feel a change in his affection to soft kisses on your face that makes a gasp leave you at how sweet he is being. When he angles his hips right he brushes that one spot, your hand tightens on his, telling him he found it along with your wide eyes pleading for him to move more.

“Simeon... please.” You plea for him to move, pushing your hips to meet his, and he gives into your whim thrusting a bit faster. Still at a teasing pace till your free hand runs through his hair and scratches light at the nape of his neck. 

“My lamb, you know what that does to me.” Was your only cue, you could have him sweet and loving, or passionate and wild like earlier. You bite your lip, and he sees you do so knowing your answer is going to be one he loves too. You hook your hand again to the nape of his neck and drag down from it to the middle of his back earning a moan out of him. Specially when you touch along his shoulder blades.

Simeon leans over you and lifts your waist with him, he holds your waist as he begins to move harder and faster. How you want him to move, and see the look in his blue eyes as he searches your eyes. You keen out his name, your hands scramble up his back where you can reach leaving fine lines behind as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. The angle has him in deep that you even feel his balls hit as he pushes deeper trying to get as much into you that you accept. 

You marvel at the flush on his face, and his wild eyes lock with yours. His dark skin shines under the faint light from sweat and he takes in the way you look glossy too. It isn’t until you feel that climbing pleasure race through your body again from your head to his thrusts into you. You moan out underneath him, your hands going to your mouth when he lets go to grip your waist better. 

“Let me hear you. I love your voice.” You nod uncovering your mouth and let him hear every sigh and cry as you cum again. Simeon holds you close to him as he buries deep, following you afterwards pushing deep to fill you full of his cum. He is careful as he lays on top of you, panting for breath like you are. You kiss the side of his face and he seeks you out to kiss you deeply.

You feel satisfied from everything you two did, your limbs jelly except your hands combing through his hair. You lay together like that a little while longer till Simeon lifts his hips to pull out from you, having enjoyed you too much. He begins to collect you into his arms for a much needed bath.

“I’ll let you sit in the water first before I join you so I can put fresh sheets on.” He explains and you nod in agreement. 

“I hope this helped you with inspiration for your story. I can’t wait to read it when it is done.” Simeon reminds you of your story, and you smile.

“I had a great muse.” You tease him, and he presses his forehead to yours lovingly. Soon enough after a bath with him and fresh sheets you cuddle up with him worn out from all his attention on you that you fall asleep listening to his heart.

He��d have to ask you to let him read more of your works. Maybe he’ll be able to act on them like what he had read. Maybe he’ll let you read his hidden away books he has of you two.  

For now he enjoys the soft sound of you asleep in his arms.

[ladyshandioftheendless]

Shandi’s Writer’s Month Prompts!

Day 17: Word: Ice | Setting: A Story Told Through the Ages

If you haven’t read my Stripper!Paul story the master post is here~ 

In light of..recent discoveries this had to be written. I make no apologies~ ONE WARNING: THIS STORY DEALS WITH SOME SOFT BDSM THEMES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! 

Also..if you’d like a continuation please let me know~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eric had never been to the Firehouse on his own. 

Despite how much he loved his friends there were still parts of his life he wanted to keep private. Especially from Ace. Because he had a big fucking mouth. The farthest he ever went in that department was getting some advice from Bruce. 

“You really have nothing to be nervous about, Eric. You’re a good looking guy and you’ll get noticed in no time! I promise~” 

He relaxed his tense shoulders. There had to be something to what Bruce told him. After all, he wouldn't lie to him just to tell him what he wanted to hear. Right? Right. He was standing right there. It wouldn’t make sense to chicken out now. He exhaled, showed his membership card to the bouncers and went inside. 

Once he stepped into the lounge he remembered how much he missed the dark, smoky atmosphere of the club. The waiters strutted around in platform heels and skimpy firemen’s costumes, much to the delight of their clientele. And there was StarChild center stage, drawing the admiration of the crowd with one of his pole dances. Damn, was he beautiful. But beauty like that came with a steep price tag, one he could never afford on his own in 100 years. With a sigh he went over to the bar. He definitely needed a drink. 

“Hey there, cutie~ What can I get for you?”  

“Hm? Oh..” 

The waiter was pretty. His gold costume complimented his long hair extremely well. The gold painted on his lips and his eyelids even more so. His giggling snapped Eric back to reality. 

“Well..are you gonna order something or are you gonna stand there and gawk~? Not that I mind of course~” 

“Oh yeah..I..wanted a drink.” 

“What kind~?” 

“Um..”

“Would you like a menu?” 

A small blush colored Eric’s cheeks. “Y-yeah..that would probably help..” 

“Here you go~” 

Now that he had a chance to get a closer look the waiter seemed to look..awfully familiar. Realization then hit him like a freight train. “I..think I know you..” 

“Do you? I think I’d remember giving a lap dance to someone so cute~” 

“No it was..we came here for my friend’s birthday and you were our waiter then too. Didn’t you..go off with my friend Ace..?” 

“Ace?? Oh yeeeees him. He was a lot of fun~”

“Aren’t you two..?” 

“Hm? Oh no, honey. I just work here and he was a client. It’s not really wise for us to ‘get attached’. I especially can’t afford to in my line of work.” Eric sighed. That was actually a..bit of a relief. “What is your ‘line of work’ exactly?” 

“Do you wanna find out~?” 

“I..” He was offering right? How could he pass that up? “..yeah. I think that would be fun.” 

“Good decision, cutie~ Since you’re new to this I can give you a bit of a free trial. 1 hour at no charge. How does that sound~?” 

“That..sounds great~” 

“Follow me then~” 

“Um..I’m sorry but..what was your name again?”

“You don’t have to apologize. It has been a while after all. I’m Vinnie~” 

“Then it’s a pleasure to formally meet you, Vinnie. I’m Eric~” 

“Ohh..it’ll be a pleasure, alright~” 

~*~

Vinnie unlocked the door to his room and then stepped aside. When Eric looked at him confused he chuckled. “I always let my clients go in first so they’ll know what they’re getting into and they can just leave if they need to~”

“Is it..that serious in there??” 

“It can be to some people, yes.” 

“Have you..had clients leave before?” 

“A few have.” 

“I’m sorry..that must be tough to deal with.”

“It was when I first started here but now I know there are only certain people that share my..unique tastes~” 

“What if..I’m not one of them..?” 

“Oh cutie, you’re not going to offend me~ I still promised you a free hour so we can do whatever you want~” 

“That’s appreciated~”

“After you then~” 

The moment Eric went through that door he felt as if he’d stepped into an entirely different world. The room was decorated with gold satin padding. On the walls were racks filled with multiple kinds of whips, riding crops. paddles, floggers, collars, restraints, various sex toys, blindfolds, gags..everything to make a bdsm enthusiast think he’d hit the jackpot. As he stared at everything with wide eyes Vinnie moved to stand directly behind him. “Well? What do you think of my dungeon~?” 

The warm sensation of Vinnie’s breath made Eric’s ear tingle. “It’s..definitely something I’ve..never seen before..” 

“Are you interested in staying, Cutie~? Will you be my loyal Sub for an hour~?” 

“A..Sub..?” 

“A Submissive. This is what I do here at the club. I’m a Dom~” 

“Are you gonna..hurt me..?”

“Not if you don’t want me to~” 

“I’m not..good with pain..” 

“Then there will be no pain. Only pleasure~” 

At that point Eric was too mesmerized to say no. “Show me..” 

~*~

Fur lined leather cuffs were actually..pretty comfortable.

Eric found himself adjusting quickly to his restraints, even while he was cuffed to a bed stripped down to his underwear. Vinnie was patient with him..and so very in tune to the needs of his body. “You’re such an adorable little fox~ I really like you~” He giggled at Eric’s gasps and moans as he slowly circled his nipples with an ice cube. “And you respond so well~ I’ll have to see what else I can get out of you~” 

“V-Vin..”

“No no, Foxy..it’s Master~” 

“S-sorry..Master..” 

“Good boy~” 

Eric had his eyes squeezed shut until he heard Vinnie gasp.

“Ohh~!” 

“What? Something wrong?” 

“I just...wasn’t expecting you to have..such a huge dick~” 

“Oh..” Eric’s face was practically on fire. “I..uh..if that’s a problem..” 

“Don’t be silly..of course it isn’t a problem~ I just..don’t really know if I can fit all of this in my mouth~”

“...sorry..” 

“There’s always alternatives, you know~” Vinnie got up from the bed and grabbed a bottle from one of his racks. “I’ve got plenty of lube for this~” 

“Are you really going to..? But..we don’t have much time left..” 

“I’m not worried about time any more, Foxy..I want you to destroy me with your big monster~”

With his confidence boosted, Eric returned Vinnie’s smirk. “ I can do nothing..but please my Master~” 

~END~

[nctsworld]

in a king-size, say i’m your queen

✩‌ renjun ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ prince!renjun | fluff | smut | ‌3.4k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you’re drawn to the kingdom’s prince staying at your family’s inn. on the night before he leaves, you exchange good-byes in the form of a kiss and more. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌smut (near the end), unprotected s*x, f*ngering, oral s*x (m receiving), mentions of alcohol/drinking, commoner!reader, dash of angst RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature PROMPT ⇾‌ prince/royalty au // fluff + smut REQ BY ⇾‌ anonymous   ‌

⇾‌ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

“Prince Huang, this is my family, who will be looking after you during your stay.”

Your father awoke everyone from deep slumber in the middle of the night, hollering at everyone to put on their work clothes in a hurry. Little did anyone expect the actual prince himself to be taking a rest at your family’s inn, for several days apparently.  

As the youngest and only daughter among your kin, your father introduces you last in line to greet the prince and his companions. With sleep still in your eyes, you curtsy as gracefully as you can, once towards the prince and another towards his followers.

The sleep in your eyes disappears as your eyelids suddenly bloom at your first clear look at the man standing a few steps across from you.

Everyone within the kingdom obviously knew of the royal family, but being this far from the mainland never granted you the chance to see them in-person. There were rumours far and wide of how captivating and beautiful the family was, especially the prince, but you assumed they were exaggerating, fueling the propaganda mill that all royalty were gorgeous, godly beings.

Oh, to be absolutely wrong.

Air’s snatched from your lungs when his warm smile burgeons, warming the room more than the fireplace ever could.

He holds his gaze on you, placing a palm on his chest and saying, “My dearest apologies for disturbing your dreams. It was a must though; we haven’t stopped anywhere in days and finally found your inn.”

Your father replies to his words, while you blink observantly at the royal figure. You wonder if it’s due to the lack of sleep or simply all in your head, but you swear his glances waver over at you more than your other family members.

“Well, I will retire to bed now and won’t be requiring your services until morning. Please resume your slumbers, and I wish you all the sweetest of dreams.”

Puffing his cheeks cutely, he bends his head slightly towards your family, while all of you dip and bow to him. When you two jointly look up, your gaze surely connects with his.

Funny enough, his wish comes true as his beauty rules over your dreams, molding them into sweet ones, for the rest of the night.  

On the second morning of his stay, you watch him relaxing at the back of the inn among the luscious greenery. In a loose white-button up, he’s sitting by himself, save for a guard nearby, and lounging in a chair under the spring sun.

Prior to starting on your tasks for the day, you stroll towards him with a jug in hand. Smiling freely, his eyes are shut as you approach him.

“Sorry to disturb you, Your Royal Highness—”

His eyes flutter open at your divine voice and his smile deepens.

“But would you care for some lemon juice?”

The boyish man hums in acceptance and he’s glued to how you carefully pour the liquid into his chalice. His eyes track the path of your departure after you leave the jug on the table and head towards a group of trees in the farther end of the garden.

Though he delights in the picturesque image of you skillfully picking the yellow fruit, which he assumes are lemons, off the tree from your wooden ladder and dropping them into the bucket hanging from your hand, a desire simmers in his stomach to be in your presence. The prince's guard follows behind him discreetly as the handsome individual makes his way over and speaks to you from below.

“May I assist you?” he offers.

His appearance startles you for a moment, then your stare unintentionally drops over the exposed skin of his upper frame. You ponder over the smoothness of his skin and imagine yourself leaving kisses upon his clavicle, on his chest, going downward further and further...

Clearing your throat and shaking your head to focus, you airily laugh at his question. The highness’s eyebrows crease, perplexed by your response.    

“Prince Huang—”

“Call me Renjun, please,” he interrupts, laying a palm against his chest. “I insist.”

“Prince Huang,” you reiterate, not wanting to breach the formalities. “It’s my duty—and an honor if I may add—to pick these lemons for you, not yours.”

“Well, as prince,” Renjun gently seizes the bucket away from your grasp. “I order you to allow me to assist you.”

Incredulously, you stare at him for a lingering moment and he engages equally, delving into your glowing aura.

Since you can’t reject his order, you yield and continue to pick the lemons off the tree, now plopping them into the bucket held by Renjun. Throughout the comfortable silence, he doesn’t take his eyes off of you for one second, admiring how elegant you are with the light breeze blowing through your hair.  

He wonders to himself if you’re aware of your devastating beauty.  

A couple of nights pass and during one evening, in the shared resting area, you find Renjun situated adjacent to the fireplace, reading a book alone (with a guard lurking close by, of course).

The prince’s features are already so soft, but he seems ethereal with the fire’s glow against his face. You’re reminded of the first night he arrived.  

As you usually do, you query if he needs anything before you retire to your room.  

He replies negatively, but then adds, “Would you like to hear some of the story I’m reading before bed?”

Shaking your head, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”  

“Not at all,” Renjun beams. He gestures for you to sit in the seat beside him, and you do so with prickling cheeks.  

His fingers flip a few pages back and he tells the short story from the beginning. Your cheek tips into your palm as you listen intently. Yes, the story is intriguing, but you’re also focused on Renjun’s voice. It’s soothing, yet lively with the specific parts in which he modulates his tone to flow perfectly with the storytelling.

And then you drift over his plush, kissable lips. You will yourself to focus on the story, rather than the reader.

In between his reading, he peers up from the pages to see if you’re still interested to hear the rest of the story, not wanting to waste your time nor bore you to death. He reads the dazzling expression on your face as a signal to finish until the very end.

When it’s over, Renjun asks if you enjoyed it. You hum positively and stand up, excusing yourself to formally leave for the night. You exchange pleasant good-nights and sweet dreams. While you shuffle off, before you’re past the doorway, he pipes up—

“Perhaps I can read you another story tomorrow evening?”

You turn around by the end of his sentence, grasping onto the doorframe.

Renjun continues, his grip tightening around the closed book. “If you wish.”

Your lips press together, in hopes to suppress a grin. It doesn’t work too well.  

“I’d like that very much.”

Time flies, and it’s already the second to last day before Renjun’s departure. Your family decides to arrange a party at the inn, inviting the fellow townspeople to join as well.  

Fittingly, Renjun sits in the middle of the long table alongside his associates and is entertained by the spectacle of the event. After the townspeople grant him gifts and dinner is served, the dancing commences. Throughout the evening, he keeps a constant eye out for you.

All night, you serve the guests and barely have time to properly eat your own meal. However, as the night lengthens, your parents urge you to live a little. In the middle of the hall, you rush to unite with your close friends, clasping onto their hands and dancing around in circles to the merry music.

The royal figure radiates, enticed from the scene of you laughing and jumping in joy, having never seen this side of you before. His heart flops at the endearing sight and an itch overcomes him. Taking a sip of his wine, Renjun anxiously wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and heads towards you onto the dance floor.  

Gasps trail behind his steps as he floats through the domino effect of bowing people. He casually says his thank you’s to everyone in passing and as the domino effect finally reaches a stop within the middle of the room, you’re the last one to formally greet him.

“Your Royal Highness,” you curtsy with a small smile.

He acknowledges with a bow of his head and shocks you by holding his palm out.

“May I share a dance with you?”

Your heart pounds in your ears as you glance around the room to ensure he’s talking to you and not mistakenly someone else. Additionally, you’re surveying the prospects because you are definitely not the most worthy to dance with royalty; the mayor’s daughter should be owed this dance, not you. You also shamefully touch your work outfit, wishing you were wearing something cleaner and more extravagant.

“Prince Huang, are you sure you want to dance with me?” you murmur, despite how everyone quieted down and can hear what you’re saying.

“Of course,” he stretches out for your hand and possesses it in his.

“Who else would I want to share a dance with?”

Your friends and all other parties now disperse and surround the two of you, dancing to their own fulfillment as you’re left in an imaginary bubble with just Renjun. Every twirl, spin, and bounce generates endless vivacious laughter from the both of you. You dance deeper into the night until your faces and feet soon ache, until it was almost only the two of you on the dance floor.      

Because of the aching, you stumble at one point, crashing into Renjun’s body.

He catches you in his arms. You look up into his eyes, then at his lips merely fingertips away from yours. Renjun’s liquored panting fans your face and you drown in it without reservation.

His eyes flicker to your lips too, and he gulps. Bravely, he raises his palm to caress your cheek, but as his skin touches yours, it jolts you to your core, popping you out of your secluded bubble and dragging you into reality.

Pulling apart from him, the prince asks if you’re okay.

You nod thoughtlessly, quickly thank him for the dance, and spew that you should begin to clean-up the hall, leaving him on the dance floor.

Renjun brings a finger to his lips and watches you run off.  

The last evening of his stay finally arrives. In your nightgown before bedtime, forgetting to ask if he needed anything before you changed out of your work clothes, you knock on his room’s door with the guard on-duty beside it.

His muffled voice beckons you to come in, and you open the door ajar to creep your head through the space. Noticing it’s you, he immediately drops the book he was reading onto his bedside table.  

“Prince Huang, did you need anything else before you leave tomorrow?”

Legs dangling off the largest bed at the inn, he thinks to himself for a few moments. He twists his mouth to one side, tapping a finger on his chin.

“I think I have everything in order...”

Then, he tilts his head to one side and puckers his lips. He darts onto his feet and adds, “Can you come in for a moment though? And please shut the door behind you.”

You’re taken aback by his request. Nevertheless, you fulfill it and close the door behind you as you walk in. Renjun’s eyes widen at the sight of you in your nightgown, clicking together why you didn’t fully come into his room in the first place.  

You rub one of your arms. “Sorry for my indecent clothing—”

“No, I’m sorry, uhm,” he palms the back of his neck nervously. “I just wanted to say a few words, so I’ll be quick.”  

He steps closer to you. Both of you stand in the middle of the room and he continues.

“Before I leave, I want to make sure you know that I quite enjoyed my stay here because of you and your family’s fine service, but I enjoyed it even more because of your cordial company.”

At his earnest appraisal and personal compliment, your cheeks flare and your jaw dangles. You bow with your head. “Thank you, Prince Huang.”

Renjun then faces the floor and picks at his fingers, trying to formulate his thoughts.

“I don’t normally do this and I’m about to ask the following not as a prince, but as a normal man. And let me preface it by saying that, as a man of my word, you are not obligated or pressured to agree to what I’m about to ask; you have every right to say no.”

He sputters everything so fast, it takes a bit for you to process his words. When it sinks in, you’re still unsure exactly what he’s talking about. Worried, you raise your eyebrows, anticipating his inquiry.  

Noting your confusion, he exhales a lengthy breath and goes straight to the point.

“As a send-off and to demonstrate my gratitude…”

He meets your gaze.

“May I kiss you?”

Your jaw, along with your eyes, hangs this time. Awestruck, you blink rapidly and inhale sharply as you stay frozen in place.

“I know it may be one-sided, but at yesterday’s gathering, I thought we shared a special moment and perhaps it’s my fault I acted upon it since we were among people, so I apologize for that—”

“You may kiss me,” you cut him off, relieved to hear his thoughts, and close the space between yourselves.

It’s his turn to don the rapid blinking.

“Are-are you sure?”

Cautiously, his palm cups your cheek, mirroring the memory of last night, then he adds his other.

“Yes, Pr-”

“Renjun, please.”

“Yes, Renjun—”

You collide as he captures your lips. He exudes innocence and it shows in his kissing; he starts off gently and barely expands his mouth. Each movement is lovely and oozes affection. Your fingers tug lightly at his nightwear, body humming emphatically in response.

However, as he tests the water, his kissing is soon stripped of innocence and is replaced by a sinful hunger. While his tongue slips into your mouth, grazing against your teeth, his hands traverse your body and confront your waist and neck, squeezing them upon arrival. You eagerly reciprocate his change of pace, desperately running your fingers through his hair and angling your neck to better the searing, open-mouthed kisses.

Since there aren’t many layers covering either of you, you’re blatantly aware of Renjun’s growing desire against your body.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he pants, “May I take you to bed?”

You bob your head fervently and croak, “Yes.”

“Yes…?”

You grin into the next kiss at his playfulness.

“Yes, Renjun.”

In retrospect, being taken in a guest room at your family’s inn was strange, but you couldn’t think much of it within the moment.

At the moment, all you yearn for is Renjun’s weight on you, locking your body into the bed with his. Lip-locked as he lays you down, he satisfies your yearning hastily.

While he dominates your neck, one of his hands is rashly underneath your nightgown and ascends to the haven of your breasts. You gasp at the initial contact, your fingers tightening in his hair and over his shoulder blade.

He kneads the meat of your tits momentarily, but he’s more fixated on attending to your nipples. Renjun’s thumb tenderly rubs over them prior to his loving pinches. At this point, his mouth zones in and nibbles on your earlobe, so he listens to your rising panting and erotic moans crystal clear.

Following his massaging and playing of your other breast, he withdraws from you to disrobe your layer in one-go and you return the favour to peel away his.  

Renjun’s purity ignites once more as he reveres your bare body, lovingly scanning all your curves and lines.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.  

Fluttering your eyelids, you lightly bite your bottom lip between your teeth. Truly, it was too easy for him to make your cheeks spark this often. He converges with your mouth sweetly before he wraps his pretty lips around your nub.

“Oh, my God, Renjun—”

Because your eyes snap in gratification, you can’t see the smirk on his face. He indulges in you calling him by his first name, especially so melodiously and within this context. A hand finds purchase upon the neighbouring breast, and another hovers under your warmth. Your hips buck heedlessly, begging for his fingers to dive further.  

They do so when he switches his embrace upon your breasts. Although you know he must feel it, the obscene, loud sounds of him fingering your sex confirm how wet you are for him. Renjun peeks an eye open to your wanton self. He adores the view in addition to your dripping pleasure contracting and spilling over his digits.  

Moving ahead, he retreats from you and mounts himself on the bed on his knees, stroking himself to harden himself for what’s to come. Despite still being breathless from your high, you rise onto your knees to match his stance in front of him.

Your dominant hand grasps his possession, taking over for him. Simultaneously, your mouth finally has the chance to reign over the smoothness of his frame—his neck, his carved clavicle, the expanse area of his chest, and his soft abdomen. He sighs blissfully, eyes batting.        

Your mouth proceeds lower to where your hand is located and aids to the swelling of Renjun’s desire. He gawks, mouth hanging, at the beautiful arching of your back and your enthusiasm as you engulf him.

Gripping him by the base, you stroke to the measure of your bobbing. To keep him enraptured, you occasionally focus on his tip, such as with the swirling and flicking of your tongue and initiating vigorous, targeted sucking. Not wanting him to reach climax yet, you pull away from him with a pop, but not before you leave a delicate kiss upon the glossy apex.

Once again, you recline downward onto the bed, except now with spread legs. Renjun pumps his wet length and lines it up with your glistening crevice. You stare at his cock upon penetration, and the flood of sensations from the impact causes you to crane your head into the pillow.  

Hands encompassing your waist, the lover thrusts gradually at first, allowing you to acclimatize to his girth. After some time, he surrenders to his carnal urges and plunges deeper with speed. Your chest heaves as your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving half-moons on his skin. Lowering himself, he secures your lips for a fleeting, sentimental moment.

To your surprise, Renjun picks up the rhythm even further, leading you to wail his name and incoherent noises repeatedly. In hopes to quell yourself, you lightly bite down on the meat of your index finger. It only partially helps since whimpers still trickle out from you.  

Both of you are nearing. Aching to be even more intimate with you, his hand flees from the flank of your body and over your head to lace his fingers with yours. His intertwining compresses alongside the pinching of his face. With your finger in pain, you release it and let loose. As one, you moan in sync with Renjun and you break together. He extracts himself, painting your stomach in white ribbons.  

Inhaling much needed air, you settle upon Renjun’s chest with his arm around you. He trifles with your fingers in his before he kisses the back of your hand.

“If you ever have the chance to come by the kingdom, I implore you to find me.”

Peering up at him, you agree enthusiastically. “Of course, Renjun.”  

With pink tinting over his face, he cups you by your chin.

“Promise?”

Hesitancy pumps through your blood. You know the chances of you ever leaving your home town would be very unlikely, and even if you could, you two could never be together for he is of royal blood, and you of none.

Nevertheless, you dare not to break the twinkling, awaited expression upon his face, so you reply—

“I promise.”

Sharing another kiss, you stay with him in the bed for a little while longer, savoring the brief amour as much as possible.