#and hell's coming with me is like the PERFECT SONG for lamb | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

echos-muses · 1 year

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nobody fucking understands my obsessions with these fucking songs (favorite lyrics boldened)

[Verse 1]

I dream in phosphorescence

Bleed through spaces

See you drifting past the fog

But no one told you where to go

We dive through crystal waters

Perfect oceans

But no one told me not to breathe

And now the weightlessness recedes

[Chorus]

My, my, those eyes like fire

I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

Come now, bite through these wires

I'm a waking hell and thе gods grow tired

Reset my patiеnt violence along both lines of a pathway higher

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

[Refrain]

I will travel far beyond the path of reason

Take me back to Eden

[Verse 2]

Well, yeah, I spit blood when I wake up

Sink porcelain stained, choking up brain matter and make-up

Just two days since the mainframe went down and I'm still messed up

Room feels like a meat freezer I dangle in like cold cuts

Missed calls, answer phones from people I just don't trust

Mirror talk, fake love

But I'll take a pound of your flesh before you take a piece of my paystub

White roses, black doves

Godmother, rise up

I need you to see me for what I have become

[Chorus]

My, my, those eyes like fire

I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

Come now, bite through these wires

I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

[Verse 3]

I guess it goes to show, does it not?

That we've no idea what we've got

Until we lose it (Until we lose it, until we lose it)

And no amount of love will keep it around

If we don't choose it (Choose it)

And I don't know what's got its teeth in me

But I'm about to bite back in anger

No amount of self-sought fury

Will bring back the glory of innocence

[Chorus]

My, my, those eyes like fire

I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre

Come now, bite through these wires

I'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

Reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

[Post-Chorus]

When we were made, I know

It was no accident

You know my desire

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

[Refrain]

I have traveled far beyond the path of reason

Take me back to Eden

[Verse 1]

For so long, I have waited

So long that I almost became

Just a stoic statue, fit for nobody

And I don't wanna get in your way

But I finally think I can say

That the vicious cycle was over

The moment you smiled at me

[Chorus]

And just like the rain

You cast the dust into nothing

And wash out the salt from my hands

So touch me again

I feel my shadow dissolving

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

Verse 2]

It's that chemical cut that I can get down with

Up like the moon and out like the hounds

A dangerous disposition somehow

Refracted in light, reflected in sound

I'm coiled up like the venomous serpent

Tangled in your trance and I'm certain

You have got your hooks in me

And I know, I know the way that it goes

You get what you give, you reap what you sow

And I can see you in my fate

And I know, I know I am what I am

The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb

So darling, will you saturate?

[Chorus]

And just like the rain

You cast the dust into nothing

And wash out the salt from my hands

So touch me again

I feel my shadow dissolving

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

[Bridge]

Nobody can say for certain

If maybe it's all just a game

When I open my eyes to the future

I can hear you say my name

[Outro]

So rain down on me, oh, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me, oh, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me

Rain down on me, yeah

Rain down on me, oh, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me, oh, oh-oh-oh

Rain down on me

Rain down on me, yeah

Rain down on me

[Intro]

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be

Your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free

So you take what you want and leave

[Verse 1]

Who made you like this?

Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

Synapses snap back in blissful anguish

Tell me you met me in past lives, past life

Past what might be eating me from the inside, darling

Half algorithm, half deity

Glitches in the code or gaps in a strange dream

Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy

Turn me into your mannequin and I'll turn you into my puppet queen

[Verse 2]

Won't you come and dance in the dark with me?

Show me what you are, I am desperate to know

Nobody better than the perfect enemy

Digital demons make the night feel heavenly

Make it real

'Cause anything's better than the way I feel right now

I can offer you a blacklit paradise

Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky

[Verse 3]

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails, with

One eye on the door, other eye on a rail

Other other eye following a scarlet trail

And the last few drops from the Holy Grail, now

Rose gold chains, ripped lace, cut glass

Blood stains on the collar means just don't ask

Be the first to the feast

Let's choke on the past and

Take to the broken skies at last

[Bridge]

(Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky)

Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky

[Breakdown]

You're gonna watch me ascend

[Verse 4]

And I know what you want from me

You want the same as me

My redemption, eternal ascension

Setting me free

So I'll take what I want then leave

[Outro]

You make me wish I could disappear, no

You make me wish I could disappear

[Intro]

Why are you never real?

Whenever you appear

You leave me with that grace

I am trembling with fear

But I know that you will disappear

Just as I awake

Whisper in my ear

[Chorus]

Well, I believe

Somewhere in the past

Something was between

You and I, my dear

And it remains

With me to this day

No matter what I do

This scar will never fade

[Refrain]

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack Heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time

You turn up in the reveries of my mind

I wake up to a suicide frenzy

Loaded dreams still leave me empty

[Chorus]

And I believe

Somewhere in the past

Something was between

You and I, my dear

And it remains

With me to this day

No matter what I do

This wound will never heal

[Bridge]

Why are you never real?

The shifting states you follow me through

Unrevealed

Just let me go or take me with you

[Refrain]

So let's make trouble in the dream world

Hijack Heaven with another memory now

I make the most of the turning tide

It just split what's left of the burning silence

Don't wait, 'cause this could be the last time

You turn up in the reveries of my mind

I wake up to a suicide frenzy

Loaded dreams still leave me empty

[Refrain]

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

[Pre-Chorus]

You've got my body, flesh, and bone, yeah

The sky above, the Earth below

[Chorus]

Raise me up again

Take me past the edge

I want to see the other side

See the other side

[Pre-Chorus]

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

[Guitar Solo]

[Chorus]

Raise me up again

Takе me past the edgе

I want to see the other side

Won't you show me what it's like?

[Bridge]

Oh, and my love

Did I mistake you for a sign from God

Or are you really here to cast me off?

Or maybe just to turn me on

'Cause these days

I would be lying if I told you that

I didn't wish that I could be your man

Or maybe make a good girl bad

[Refrain]

I've got a river running right into you

I've got a blood trail, red in the blue

Something you say or something you do

The taste of the divine

You've got my body, flesh, and bone

The sky above, the Earth below

Nothing to say and nowhere to go

The taste of the divine

#spotify #sleep token #take me back to eden #rain #ascensionism #the apparition #the summoning

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paintedpawz · 2 years

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POV: When you misspell God as D-O-G...

CULT OF THE WATER-DOG... Coming never to a Gamestop near you.

Actually, you get TWO versions of the same drawing because I wasn’t sure which lighting version I liked more. The brightest setting gives off more a vibrancy and helps with a strong-marker lines combined with my neon pens which I’m proud of! The darker setting matches the spooky aesthestic a little more though and makes the red fully look more blood-colored instead of apple-picking red. X’D

#also yes the lyrics are from poor man's poison! can't reccomend that band enough #it's a fairly small group but they definitely need more attention #also I found them through tiktok when this song was a meme for a bit #no one has drawn ANY COTL animatics with poor man's poison #and hell's coming with me is like the PERFECT SONG for lamb #they also have black sheep which would also be a really good fit #I also recommend bearghost #and voltaire of course #and that maybe because I'm making a playlist for my sheep OC #ANYWAY LOOK AT MY SPOOKY GURL <33 #she may or may not be flirting with the one who waits #offering her service should the lamb fail because she's all me actually #and the full reason I got into this game?#monster fucking X'D #oh and the art style is adorable too #Cult Of The Lamb #cults //#hybrid furry #Furry Art #Traditional Art #Spooky #Halloween #Occult #Pigment The Axolotl-Dog

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hellopartypeoples · 2 years

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Yes i did binge all of @inklingofadream 's "Sitting pretty on the throne, nothing more i want (except to be alone)"

And yes I'm now obsessed. And yes I did make a playlist to supplement me until its maybe updated:

TW: the song "bloodlust" deals with intense themes of domestic abuse and manipulation, tread carefully.

See below for song comments.

“Praise the Lamb” by River boy

Unapologetically Cult

“You Are the Moon” by The Hushed Sound

This song sounds like the kind of devotion everyone in this fic has for Jon

“Anxiety” by Lena Raine

I imagine Jon has ALOT OF it.

“Comfort Crowd” by Conan Gray

A Jon @ Gerry song, especially at the start.

“Make you Love me” by Troye Sivan

Elias @ Jon

“Tired as Fuck” by The Staves

Never had a prayer to follow, I'll be coming home tomorrow....

“Discomfort” by AK, Veela

Jon song

“Sedated” by Hozier

Danny & Jon, passing notes between the gift bin

“Running Away - Extended” by Infinity Train

This song started playing DURING THOSE CHAPTERS AS I READ, perfectly fit the tension and hope. Pro tip, the infinity Train soundtrack is a great soundtrack for ANY TMA fanfic.

“We have it all” by Him Stones

A Tim & Danny song, when the truth of their Signing is discovered

“Now Go” by Erato

A song for Jon, during the few moment he wants to be alone in the fic and it’s respected. Could also be interpreted as a Georgie song :c I worry about her in this fic, I wonder how SHE’s been!

“Out there” by Nick, Diane, & Julian

Lyrics aren’t perfect, but the desperate passion matches Jon’s and Elias’ and Gurtrude’s manipulations

“Saferoom” by Miwako Chinone

Occasional chapters of fluff are safe rooms in this hell scape of a fic

“Bury It” by CHVRCHES, Hayley Williams

I think I'm funny :> and Elias, Gurturde, and Artefacte Storage song

“Bloodlust” by aeseaes

TW: this song deals with intense themes of physical and emotional domestic abuse

A song for when Elias/similar prove to Jon they’re not above physical torture and abuse, like most cults. The way this song mourns the loss of identity and self autonomy to ones that only consists majority of being physically/emotionally abused amd treated like an onject, up to the point of death and no one noticing....it’s a headspace I felt Jon was in and out of a lot in this fic.

“Afraid” by The Neighborhood

When you start sharing your body with an Eldritch God, can you be so sure it’s you waking up...?

“Even in my Dreams, I can’t Win.” by Bad Suns

THAT MOST RECENT GERTRUDE CHAPTER THO

BONUS SONGS:

“Shipping Forecast” by the Longest Johns & “Light House” by River Boy

*banging hands, stomping feet, and chanting,” Peterlukaswhen, MartinBlackwoodWHEN

#inklingofadream #tma #au

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whumpinggrounds · 3 years

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Hide n Seek

sooo this doesn’t have a title but Liam came into my head and would not leave so? here we go?

lmk if you like it or you hate it or want to see more. or if you have a title or anything to say or for any reason at all :) talk to me!!

CW: failed escape, escape attempt, environmental whump, big whumpee, tiny whumper, female whumper, nonconsensual drug use, drugged whumpee, scrapes and bruises, gaslighting, uhhh i forget what else. nonconsensual touching but it’s also nonsexual

Dark branches tear at Liam’s skin hard enough to draw blood, but he won’t stop running. On either side of him, trees loom up, huge and bristling with needles. The ground tilts sickeningly under his pounding feet, and as he slips and skids over icy ground Liam throws his body from side to side, trying to dodge the obstacles that pop up, seemingly out of nowhere. He’s pulling it off – barely – and then a towering red spruce appears out of nowhere. One of its lower branches, thick around as a lead pipe, catches Liam in the side of the head and sends him reeling.

Liam lands on his knees, breath whooshing from his lungs. The blow to his temple makes his head spin worse than it already was, and his whirling vision isn’t doing any favors for his roiling stomach. An unbearable heaviness in his limbs makes him long to stop, rest, maybe lie back on the frozen, muddy ground and let the blessed chill ease the fever heat in his brow.

As the desperate, exhausted thought crosses his mind, a faraway sound reaches his ears.

“Lavender’s blue…dilly-dilly…lavender’s green…when you are king…dilly-dilly…I’ll be your queen…”

The words are sung in a voice that’s high and light and almost fey. The sound stops Liam’s heart, makes ice water run through his veins. Dashing frightened tears from his eyes, Liam scrambles to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scratches, the ache in his bruised and frozen knees. Behind him, the voice drifts piercing and eerie through the trees, and, driven before it like a sacrificial lamb, Liam picks himself up and crashes onward.

Head reeling, body aching, so sick to his stomach he spends every step fighting not to vomit, Liam runs. He runs until he slips and falls, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of himself, mark bruises on his skin. Then he gets up and runs some more, staggering, faltering, missing steps, head empty of any instinct besides move forward, get away. The headlong sprint through the woods feels like it lasts forever. Snatches of song reach Liam’s ears, distorted and giggly. The forest rears up on every side like so many dark green walls – towering large, endless in every direction. Liam’s ears are ringing, his throat is dry, he can hear his own breath heaving unevenly in his chest. The terror in him is so raw and real that he can almost taste it, salt and iron, blood on his tongue. He’s choking on tears as he staggers onward, but scared as he is, all he can think is what if his sobs are too loud?

When Liam sees light through the trees, he thinks he’s dreaming. Stumbling forward, hardly daring to believe, he feels new hot tears spill down his face. Like a drowning man, he stretches his arms toward salvation, straining as if it’s something he can hold in his hands. Then he’s stumbling again, toppling forward, knees and then hands and then body kissing pavement.

Unable to stop himself, Liam sobs in simple, blessed relief. Pavement. The ground beneath him hard and unforgiving, solid and uniform. Above him, big plate glass windows spill yellowy light into the gathering darkness. The miracle of sidewalk, of concrete, of buzzing phosphorescent light!

Liam is weeping like a baby into his scratched up, icy hands. Now that he’s horizontal and staying there, now that the adrenaline has done just about all it can for his body – now, Liam starts to let go. His body feels both distant and incredibly close. He can feel every individual bit of concrete against his skin, and he can feel himself buzzing against the inside of his skin, and there’s a cloudiness in his head, a big and growing white threatening to envelope him, leave him blissfully out and unaware.

“What in the - ? Son? What the hell is wrong with you, son?”

The voice is gruff, incredulous, more than a little suspicious. Peering up through hazy eyes, Liam sees an older man coalesce into a hazy double-focus, bearded and grizzly as his tone suggests. The flannel-clad bear of a human recoils at the sight of the tears on Liam’s face, lip curling as he takes in Liam’s disheveled appearance.

“H-he-e-elp,” Liam manages, one hand reaching up, wavering and buzzing static in his vision. Even to his own ears, his voice wavers, rises and falls, distorted by hoarseness and God knows what else. “I n…need hel-l-l-p.”

Narrowing his eyes, the man continues to regard Liam with blatant doubt. Liam tries to morph his face into something acceptable, an expression that’s beseeching without being desperate or deranged. His muscles respond slowly, sluggishly. He can’t remember how to manipulate his face. Giving up, Liam leaves his mouth slack and just looks up, inches a little closer, pushing his body over the pavement, ignoring the way the cement rasps against his skin. He doesn’t want to try standing, yet.

Strange things are happening to the man’s face – his cheeks bloat, blow up grotesquely as he talks. His eyebrows, thick dark beetles, worm and writhe over his deep-set eyes, which are more like holes than real eyes. He’s towering over Liam, so tall the man on the ground can’t help but shrink a little bit against the pavement. His mouth is moving and Liam watches it with a dull kind of fascination, forgetting to pay attention to the words that emerge as shapeless sounds from that dark cave of a mouth.

“Help,” Liam tries again, seeing the way the word feels on his tongue. It sounds like it’s coming from very far away. “Huh…help?”

“Boy? What is wrong with you, boy?”

The man is waving his hand around in front of Liam’s face, looking for some kind of a reaction. When Liam just keeps staring hazily up, the man shakes his head. He starts talking, but the words dip and circle around Liam’s head, refusing to find his ears, refusing to find his brain. Every so often a word or two comes through – a revelation.

“…fucking cops…”

“Hellllp,” Liam whispers, turning his head to rest one hot cheek against the concrete. His head is pounding so bad it makes him feel sick. Or maybe he just feels sick. Either way, he’s wrung out, exhausted, ready to be done. Liam is tired. He gives up. He’s ready to be done.

Shutting his eyes to try to block out the loud and angry spinning world, Liam forces words out as best as he can make them. “Pl-l-l-e-e-eease. Please.” In his chest, he feels a little hitch come with the word, a shaky breath that prefaces a whimper. The sound is so small, so utterly pathetic. Liam didn’t know he could make a sound like that. “Ple-ease help me.”

The man squats down now to peer a little closer at Liam, at the young man laid out flat on the ground, not even trying to get up. “…what is…come from…”

The words aren’t landing with any greater frequency, nor are they making much sense, but Liam imagines he hears a grudging warmth in the tone that wasn’t there before. Maybe concern, instead of suspicion. Maybe aid, instead of exasperation. He lets himself slit his eyes open, see the hazy outline of the figure above him, leaning in. He lets himself hope.

Then he hears the gasp from behind him, long and loud, high and flighty and dramatic. Suddenly, Liam can’t breathe. He shuts his eyes again, trying to block the nightmare out, but it’s too late. She’s already here.

She throws herself down beside him, drapes herself on top of him, small hands roaming from his broad shoulders down to his waist, as if checking that he’s still whole. She’s so small. She’s always been so small. Doesn’t make sense that she can be all over him, everywhere at once when she’s so…damn…small.

“Philip!”

She trills it, sweet as any songbird. There are tears in her voice, real tears, and a burbling wet kind of laugh of relief that would tug at the heartstrings of anyone who had a heart. “Oh God, Philip, oh, don’t scare me like that.” She presses a warm kiss to his temple and Liam groans out loud. “Oh, sweetie. Oh Philip. Oh.”

One finger traces down the side of his face. The feeling comes through hideously clear and sharp. If it were a picture, it’d be Technicolor, while the rest of the world scrapes by in staticky black and white. Liam presses his face harder into the concrete, wanting to escape, to sink through, to disappear. She picks up his head and cradles it with one little hand.

“…know this…?”

Liam wishes, more than he’s ever wished for anything before, to understand the words of the man standing over them. Instead, the man remains indistinct, distant, unreachable, while every word she says rings loud and perfect in his ears.

“Philip is my brother,” she explains, voice so sweet it conjures honey on the tongue. “He’s…he’s…well, he’s not right.”

“…see that…”

“Well.” A firm but gentle hand smoothing over his wild hair. “We don’t know what exactly it is that’s…wrong.” Locked inside his head, Liam is screaming. All that emerges from his mouth is a low, indistinct moan. Above him, Delilah chatters on, her voice taking on a tragic tone. “We suppose it could be genetic. Or it could be…well, he was in a bad way with drugs, my brother.” She strokes his back, a long, possessive touch. “It’s not his fault.”

The man above them grunts. His voice is still so distant, coming in and out like radio waves. “…damn fool thing…cold.”

“I try. I really do try. He’s just…he gets away from me sometimes, I guess.”

“…huge motherf…little thing like…”

A laugh, carefully calibrated to sound just a little forced. “Philip is my brother.” Another long, tender caress down his back. Liam pants into the pavement, head spinning. “I love him. Of course I’m going to look after him. I have to.”

“…need help?”

Sprawled out on the ground, Liam heaves a dry sob. Those words, words he wanted to hear so badly just minutes before, now offered to the exact wrong person. The conversation goes on above him, but Liam can’t waste his focus listening to it anymore.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Liam takes stock of his aching body. His knees are bruised and sore, his body scratched all over. He’s exhausted and cold and his muscles feel distant, tingly and out of touch. Even lying on the ground, his head pounds and spins. If there was anything left in his stomach, he’d definitely have thrown it up by now. All he wants is to stay where he is and rest. He wants to feel right again, in control of his body and his mind. He wants to give up, give in, be allowed to sleep and heal and rest. Liam just wants this to be over.

But he can’t just yell surrender and expect Delilah to leave him alone. She’s hopping to her feet now, standing to shake the stranger’s hand. If he has a last chance, this is it, so Liam grits his teeth. Dredging up every last bit of meager strength, he places his palms on the ground beneath him and pushes up. His arms are shaky, and nearly give out, but he manages to slump into a sitting position before his strength fails.

From his place sitting on the pavement, Liam can peer up pitifully at the two people above him. The flannel-wearing man is facing Liam, which means Delilah is facing away from him. He has a window, a precious small amount of time, in which he can just maybe make his escape. Swinging his head to the side, Liam examines the storefront he’s ended up outside of. The vinyl booths, the matching countertops – it’s a diner, all the lights inside aglow. If Liam can just make it inside. If he can just get his story out.

He has to move quickly. Sucking in a quick puff of cold air, Liam leans back and pushes off the ground, flinging himself to his feet. Almost before he’s all the way up, he’s throwing himself into his next step, staggering forward with all the grace and control of a drunken grizzly. Speed is his only chance, and also his greatest enemy. As Liam lunges forward, his body gives out under him. He stumbles, wailing in frustration, stretching his hand out for the door even as he goes down.

Before he can hit the pavement for the second time in ten minutes, the stranger catches Liam. It sounds like it takes a good amount of his strength, because the man grunts as Liam’s chest smacks his shoulder, but he stays where he is, all but holding Liam up.

Even though the guy seems to have decided to take Delilah’s side, gratitude leaves Liam breathless.

“Your brother is heavy,” the man complains, his gruff voice booming through the air right next to Liam’s ear.

“He was a football player,” Delilah explains, and surely anyone could hear that smug, faintly covetous tone in her voice? Surely, this man can see the way she squeezes his bicep as she runs her hand down his arm?

The man throws one of Liam’s arms over his shoulder and drags his unresisting body toward a parking lot. Stumbling along, Liam tries to stay on his feet, though now his hectic vision is starting to fade entirely. On his other side, Deliliah hovers along, her hand so light on his back that he should hardly be able to feel it. Somehow, though, while his entire body is distant, prickling, offline, that handprint burns in his awareness, heavy and hot and stinging like nettles. Liam whines under his breath, trying to make his thick tongue form words.

“Shh,” Delilah soothes, drawing so close he can feel her breath on his arm. “Shh, Philip, honey, it’s gonna be all right.”

Still whining like a kicked dog, Liam is dumped unceremoniously in a foreign backseat. Crawling up next to him, Delilah waits until the man is seated in front of them to perch herself basically in his lap. With greedy, grasping fingers, she tugs his leaden body over so Liam’s head is resting on her shoulder. At first, Liam fights it, but when the car starts up the winding mountain road, he subsides. The curving motion of the road sets his stomach roiling, so he’s too nauseous to do anything but let his head flop back as he tries to open his airway and breathe.

Cooing, Delilah cards her hot little hands through his hair. “Poor Philip,” she murmurs, voice sweet and conciliatory. “Poor honey. Didn’t I tell you no one would believe you?”

#whump #whump writing #big whumpee #tiny whumper #female whumper #environmental whump #hypothermia #escape attempt #failed escape #failed escape attempt #drugged whumpee #bruises #gaslighting #nonconsensual drug use #headache #original characters #original writing #liam #delilah

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erpprincess · 3 years

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Afterlife

Once, the choice would have been an easy one. Everyone asks the same questions: what comes next? Where will I end up: heaven or hell? Will it hurt?

By the time a person gets around to asking, there’s no time to give a real answer. I was no different.

Or was I?

I had lived a good life. I pursued my dreams and accepted setbacks. I helped as many people as I could and apologized to those I could not. I made friends, lost friends, and said goodbye to loved ones. Truly, I had no regrets.

The door to my hospital room opened despite being after hours. I couldn’t see my visitor, but I’d never mistake that voice for anyone else.

“Ah, we meet again.”

Crimson hair, golden eyes, and a smile that was brighter than the sunrise - oh, I would never forget Diavolo. The room immediately felt warmer, the low lights dancing off his hair as if they were actual flames. His presence was commanding, even with a smile on his face.

“Dia… have you come to say goodbye as well?” My voice was a far cry from the last time we’d spoken, now aged and tired.

“Goodbye? Perhaps.” He crossed his arms in front of him, confident even in these last moments.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” comes another voice. This one is familiar, musical, like a song from a treasured memory. The sweet smell of honey fills the room as he enters, an angel in every sense of the word.

“Simeon… then I suppose it’s my time, isn’t it?” My heart felt no sadness, except that this would be our last meeting.

Both demon and angel took my hands, regarding me with soft eyes and kind smiles. “It’s rather pointless to ask where I’m headed, isn’t it?” I ask with a chuckle.

“Your life - from birth to death - has always been unique,” Simeon explains. “So, too, is this moment. The final judgement of one’s heart is usually the deciding factor of one’s afterlife; however, your heart, while pure and loving, longs for something else entirely.”

I look at him curiously, not quite understanding. I turn to Diavolo when he squeezes my hand. “Everyone knows you deserve the peaceful, perfect rest after all you’ve accomplished here, but would that truly make you happy? Is that truly what you desire?”

“You’re saying… I have a choice?”

“Aye, little lamb. You’ve been granted paradise. What that paradise is, is up to you.” His ocean eyes are calm and knowing. I return a smile, but it’s to Diavolo that I give my answer.

“Let’s go home.”

The choice was an easy one, after all.

#obeyme #obey me fic #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #fic writing

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 13 ~The Reunion~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Obstacle Course ...

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

"What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said."

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money.

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The full moon illuminated Jamie's and Claire's path as they made their way to the cottage into the cold night. It seemed they were the only two people in the world, walking in comfortable silence, lost in their own respective thoughts, and the only sounds to be heard were their footfalls and the dance of the trees. Inhaling deeply, Jamie pulled Claire into the warmth of his body, gently kissing the crown of her head, and in turn, her arm slid familiarly under his jacket to settle around his waist. For the first time in five days, every cell in his body was alive and buzzing, and it felt amazing to hold and have her close again.

Earlier, after the excitement and stramash outside Christie's apartment building had settled, they'd gone back in search of Quentin. It hadn't taken them long to spot him where he'd leaned on the wall outside the pub working his phone, most probably trying to call Claire. Though Quentin had looked like he could go for a few more round of drinks, to his relief, he hadn't put up much of an argument when Claire had firmly suggested it was time to call it a day. They'd escorted him back to his lodgings, making sure he had everything before heading for home.

It had been a surreal day, and Jamie knew it was far from over. He'd sensed Claire wanted to talk, and who could blame her? They had a lot of things to discuss, but his depraved mind had other ideas. His alcohol-fueled bravado from earlier had long waned to be replaced with an urgency that pulsed heat below his belly. But he swiftly reminded himself to be an attentive boyfriend first and clear the air between them.

After what he'd put himself and Claire through the last few days, he was done being a prisoner of the past and mistrusting the future. Here, at this moment with her, he was whole, and just having her beside him was healing invisible wounds all over his body. He needed her, but her needs came first even though her sweet scent and the sound of her soft sighs were piercing holes in his self-restraint. At nearly midnight, the air was icy cold, and yet, there was a fine layer of perspiration on his skin brought about by the anticipation of being finally alone with her.

When they eventually reached the cottage, Jamie had a hard time giving up her body's warmth to retrieve his keys, so he turned her to face him and locked her in an embrace. Savouring the feel of her, he wondered how the hell he'd managed to keep his distance; moreover, allow her to go to Inverness with Tom.

"Home sweet home," Claire murmured, breaking his thoughts. She made a move to pull away, but he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her icy fingers instead. "I think I need a drink," she said, shivering, "It's been quite an eventful night, don't you think?"

Jamie shook himself and nodded. "Aye. It's been a riot." He finally let go of her, quickly fishing for his keys in his pocket and unlocking the door, letting her pass first. They were welcomed by two happy, hyper animals who circumvented him to get to Claire. Ah, wee traitors!

He shut the door and watched with amusement as Claire immediately fell on her knees, her arm going around Rollo's neck while her free hand scratched Adso's back ear. Jamie grinned when both nudged closer and let out chesty whimpering sounds as they were treated to Claire's lovefest.

His eyes landed on her unpacked bags on the floor. She must have left the cottage as soon as she'd arrived. "How'd ye know where to find me earlier? Ye never called," he remarked, divesting his jacket and dropping it onto the chair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't. When Tom dropped me here, I realised I forgot to hand in some documents for Mary. I kind of figured you might be out with uncle Lamb. So I thought before calling you I'd walk over to Tom's to drop the papers for Mary and well, ..." she shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "I was about to phone you, and who did I find outside Tom's apartment building? My boyfriend serenading Mary Hawkins, no less."

Almost completely sober by now, his head dropped to hide his embarrassment, his pained groan barely subdued in his throat at the reminder of the recent event. "Oh, Christ!"

She stood up, walked over to him and encircled her arms around his neck, forcing him to glance at her smiling face. "I thought you were adorable." She kissed his chin. "And I think Mary was chuffed to bits hearing your love declarations. She'll never leave the Highlands now, what with Tom as her new love interest and you serenading her in front of an audience. She probably thinks she's heaven's gift to Broch Mordha and vice versa."

Her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck made it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ye should be righteously pissed at me for thinking ye were with Tom. And even if ye were in his apartment, I shouldnae have jumped to conclusions."

She contemplated his words. "We all get our jealous moments," she said quietly. "Well, I certainly do ...at least."

"Ye? Jealous? I only have eyes for ye, Sassenach. Ye have nothing to be jealous about." Then the image of Geneva's kiss came to mind, and his throat tightened. With everything that had happened today, he'd already forgotten about it ...until now. He knew only too well how the truth had its way of coming out, and he couldn't just dismiss it as an afterthought even though it didn't mean a thing. He needed to tell her before she finds out from someone else.

"Geneva," she whispered as if reading his mind. "I heard ..."

"Ye heard what?" She's already heard about the kiss? There was no stopping the weight of dread from settling in his belly. "Whatever stories ye heard about her and me, there's a perfect explanation for it, Sassenach. I can assure ye."

She didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort nor heard the words he'd just said, her gaze too busy following the movements of her hands as they travelled down to his shoulders and over his chest. "While you were in Lallybroch, Willie came to check up on me once in a while to see how I was fairing. I thought it was rather sweet of him to do that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, he mentioned something about Geneva fancying you, and that didn't sit well because I know she's your therapist, and Jenny preferred her for you." Her eyes suddenly dimmed. "Oh, God! Why am I even telling you this? It's so primary school."

"Sassenach ..." He brushed his lips to her forehead. "It's not ..."

She visibly shook herself. "No, let me finish. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling the way I did. It was torturous knowing you were suffering, and I could do nought about it. I feared that night when you left, I may have made things worse by pushing you to talk about the past." True to her words, her expression was troubled as she chewed her bottom lip. "You see ...I want to be the one who can make things better for you, but I also recognise there are things about your condition that are beyond my understanding no matter how much I try to help or learn about it." She took a deep breath. "Geneva's your therapist, and she knows what she's doing. Sooo ...I have to put aside my petty jealousy and let Geneva do her work. But it doesn't mean I have to like her or the whole situation. So for the sake of ..."

"No, Sassenach. Stop right there." He dropped his mouth to prevent her from saying more, punctuating his words with a kiss. Their breaths collided, his fingers gripping her shoulders hard and digging into her skin. "Ye have every right not to like the situation. Because I dinnnae like it either." He searched her face, but her eyelids were at half-mast, and her gaze seemingly focused on his lips. He tipped her chin up. "I willnae be returning to therapy. So ye dinnae have to worry about her."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wot? But why?" She stopped and looked at him suspiciously. "Wait. If this is your way of making me stop seeing Tom, sorry mate, not going to happen. This is work. And I'm not stopping you from going to therapy just because it's Geneva either."

"Woman, will ye let me finish?" He took a few cleansing breaths. "I'll wager ye a pound to a penny that ye willnae allow me to attend the therapy when ye hear what she did."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Why? What did she do?"

"She kissed me."

She stiffened and took a step back. "Wot?" Her expression of softness she had just moments ago made way for disbelief.

He tried to rid the sudden tangle in his throat. "She stopped by today. She said something about wanting to talk about my progress. I told her I was busy. Then she threw herself at me and kissed me. It's nae biggie."

"Nae biggie?!" Her eyes flashed, and her mouth open and closed. And then opened again. "Where did she kiss you? Lips or cheek?"

Her question caught him like a surprise right hook. On any other occasion, he would have probably been amused with her display of jealousy, but the way she was looking at him now, was causing his heart to pound painfully against his ribs. "O-on the lips, but I ...ah ...immediately pushed her away. I swear to God, I did nothing to inspire it."

She rolled her head as if preparing for a fight, and when her eyes landed on the bottle of tequila he and her uncle had been drinking earlier, she made a beeline for it. "On the lips, huh? Did you like it?" She poured herself a healthy measure in one of the used glasses without offering him one and downed it in one go.

Christ! "No!"

"Any tongue involved?"

"Of course not!"

"You sure?" She slammed the glass down on the table, making him flinch.

What the bloody hell? The questions she was throwing at him was making him squirm on his feet, and for the first time, Jamie realised how similar Claire and Quentin were when trying to extract an answer. Both would undoubtedly make great interrogators if ever they'd decided on a career change. "What kind of question is that? The kiss happened so fast, taking me by surprise. I didnae have time to think. She might have tried to put her tongue down my throat, but I stopped her."

"And where did this happen?"

"What do ye mean? I already told ye she stopped by. I was here ...at home."

"I mean, did it happen inside or outside the cottage?"

Jesus! "Outside."

"Outside," she repeated, more to herself.

"Aye, outside. She wanted to come in, but I told her I had things to do and was expecting a visitor ...yer uncle, that is. Anyway, that aside, I didnae think it was a good idea to allow her to come inside, knowing that she's my therapist and fancied her chances with me."

"Hmmm ...so when she threw herself at you, you pushed her away, is that right?"

"Aye."

"Where did her hands go?"

Confusion seeped into his already muddled head. Is this some kind of trick question to catch me of any wrongdoing? "What do ye mean?"

"Geneva's hands. Did it go around your waist, neck or what?"

"Oh, um ...around my neck."

"And what about your hands?"

Huh? "What about them?"

"Where were your hands when she kissed you?"

"They were by my side. The only time I touched her was to push her away from me. Ask yer uncle. He saw the whole thing. I didnae even know he was there."

"And he didn't sock you?"

"Why would he?" he almost shouted. "I didnae do a thing. It was Geneva who initiated it!"

"Fine."

"Fine?" he gasped in confusion.

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and took off her jacket. That's it? What the hell just happened? I gave her the truth, and that's supposed to be good, right? Or am I missing something? He followed her strained movement, and he helplessly watched her grabbed her laptop bag and rummaged through it, the silence pulsing around them bordering on awkwardness. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned their reunion, he thought miserably.

"Sassenach," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I can tell ye're upset about the kiss. Ye ken ye've no reason to be, aye?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "No," she agreed, relief washing over him. "I've no reason to." She pulled out sheets of paper from her bag, looked at them and haphazardly stuffed them back in again, seemingly going through the motion of keeping her hands busy.

"Then why are ye cranky all of a sudden?"

She let go of her bag and grabbed the bottle of tequila, sloshing over the rim of the glass as she poured another shot. "I'm not." She grimaced as she threw back the liquid.

"Ye are." When she poured another drink, he frowned at her. "Go easy on that tequila, Sassenach."

Her head spun halfway round in his direction, reminding him of that wee girl in the film, The Exorcist. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at him.

He forced himself to remain patient. Claire was visibly upset about something, and now he wasn't sure anymore if it had to do with Geneva's kiss. "Sometimes, I associate alcohol with bad judgments and choices," he began calmly. "My own, especially. But ye've helped me make a lot of good ones in the past, and ...I just want to do the same for ye. Talk to me, Sassenach. What's really bothering ye?"

She huffed and balled her fingers into tight fists. "Fine! Do you want to know the truth? I want to start a fight."

"A fight?" He reined in his frustration of not being able to understand and took a step closer to her. "Why would ye wanna do that?"

A deep scarlet soared from her neck to her cheeks as she threw her hands in the air. "The last few days were trying, alright? It wasn't only you who was having a rough time with it. God, I've been worried sick about you. I've been trying to keep it together ever since you left, wondering if I'll ever get to see you before I return to London. And then ...and then," she hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. "One bloody thing led to another. First, I got into a fight with your sister because of some stupid newspaper clipping she had in her possession. Then, not long after that, in the middle of what was supposed to be an important meeting with Tom, my boss dumps the responsibility of babysitting Mary onto my lap, and I had no idea how I was going to manage that with my uncle on his way. Then I got to Inverness, hoping to get at least some work done with Mary to finish her book so I could finally leave London for good and start a new life here with you. And you know what?"

Jamie stood immobile. He longed to soothe her, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to be touched yet, so he waited even though he was slowly dying inside to hold her in his arms.

Her inhale became stuttered, and her eyes darkened with defeat. "I was grasping at straws to keep Mary to sit still long enough to extract a measly one thousand seven hundred words worth of work when I know she could do more in a day. But that's all I got for my efforts because she was too busy galavanting in Inverness with Tom. And speaking of Tom, I still haven't managed to make him sign the contract for his book and when my boss asked me why I couldn't even give him an answer and gave him some lame excuse. The only good thing that came out of Tom is, he convinced Mary to come here. If Tom hadn't been with me, I'd still be in Inverness with Mary. And now ...now I find out Geneva tried to kiss you while I was away. God, I want to scratch her eyes out. But I can't do that, can I? Because she isn't here. So I asked you those dumb questions to find a fault and start a fight because I wanted to vent after the last few days I've had. But even that, I can't do because you've done nothing wrong." She let out a groan of exasperation. "How sad is that?"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Jamie. Claire always put others' needs before hers with no thought for herself. He had to take better care of her. It had been easy to rest all his hopes and fears on her shoulders, and because of it, she was a massive part of his motivation to want more out of his future and be a better man for them. But if they were going to be together, his condition shouldn't always be her fight, and her burdens should be lighter with him by her side and not more. This lass had given him hope, and he's not going to rest until he gave her the same. Until she, too, knew her needs were just as important as everyone else's.

The boyfriend in him wanted to wipe the look of upset in her eyes. Confront the people that pushed her to act out in a way so unlike her usual self. Demand answers to find out what else was troubling her. He sensed, however, that questioning was the last thing she needed. So doing his best to be the protector this time, he opened his arms, relieved when she quietly walked into them. She laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he held her, resting his chin on her crown.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke haltingly. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to pick a fight. It's just that ...." Her fingers tugged at the edge of his jeans, and he shut his eyes. He could hear the slight slur in her words, making him realise she'd drank tequila on an empty stomach. "The last few days have been mad, and I -I ...oh, hell, never mind. I'm just acting pathetic."

Jamie frowned against her head. "Sassenach, look at me." He drew slightly away and held the sides of her face in her hands, the unshed tears in her eyes crushing him to the core of his being. "First of all, ye have nothing to be sorry about. If anything, Tom, Mary, yer boss, my sister, including myself, owe ye an apology. And ye're no' pathetic and dinnae ever say that about yersel', ever again. Ye do far too much for others, including me, and it's about time ye did something for ye. The rest of the world can wait, and other people getting their act together is no' yer responsibility."

She blew out a breath, bright amber eyes holding his steady.

"As for Geneva, ye have nothing to worry about her. There was never anything between us. I'll talk to my sister and let her know what her friend has done. If Jenny refuses to do anything about it, I will make a formal complaint about Geneva's behaviour to the clinic's head myself. And perhaps, propose a new or my old therapist be reinstated."

"Jamie, I can't be responsible ..."

"Ssshh, Sassenach. Ye're no' responsible for Geneva. She overstepped the boundaries, so it's only right she takes responsibility for her own actions." He pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eyes. "I chose to be with ye as ye did with me, and I cannae have anyone disrespecting that, no' even Jenny. We're together, and we're supposed to be stronger as a unit. I need to step up my game and be there for ye as ye've been for me. For so long, I was so fixated on my own condition, I ceased seeing other people's difficulties." He pulled back and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Then I met ye, my feisty wee, Sassenach ...for the second time as a grown-up ...and ye taught me all about selflessness and courage. I want ye to know ye're important ...more important than what I want or what Mary Hawkins wants or what yer boss wants. And the things that hurt ye, they're no less painful than what I go through. Things are gonnae change from now on, and it can't be just all about me. I'm so sorry for abandoning ye and for not being there when ye needed me most."

The worst of the troubled look in her expression faded and was replaced by a wobbly smile. "There's nothing to forgive. We were both trying our best to deal with circumstances that were beyond our control."

He smoothed her hair back, picking up the locks and twining his fingers through them. "No, ye were doing all the heavy lifting. Every moment ye spent with me was a trial of fortitude ye were too stubborn not to meet. It would have been easy for ye to give up on me, but ye didnae. Ye always thought I was enough despite my shortcomings. Ye taught me second chances, and because of that, I dinnae want to believe anymore I deserve no' to have ye." He took a deep breath. "I thought my realisation came too late when I thought ye were with Tom, and I was willing to go at any lengths to win ye back and make ye see what we have is worth fighting for. After what I did out there tonight, I ken I'll be teased for the rest of my life for singing like a fool at the village square, but it's all worth it because I get another chance with ye."

"Another chance with me? I never left you, Jamie. I may have been miffed and hurt, but I've always been yours."

He shook his head, more at the error of his ways. "Deep down, I ken that but the mere thought of Tom with ye, all reason and logic seem to fly out the window. In the future, I promise to keep those thoughts at bay. It's no' good for my sanity." He smiled at her. "Shall we kiss and make up?"

Laughing, tears spilt from her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

The urgency that had been building up inside him went off like a gunshot. He drew her in closer. "Christ, I love you, Sassenach and always will." His mouth descended over hers, impressing his vow with a thorough tasting of her lips, savouring the earthy, semi-sweet taste of tequila on her tongue. His thumbs traced her cheekbones and jawline, and when she swayed closer, and the softness of her breasts flattened against his chest, he let out an animalistic groan.

His heart started to pound, every muscle south of his belt tightening. It was as though he'd been in a dry spell for five years instead of five days. His mouth went dry, his palms itched with the need to touch her naked skin, and his body was on fire as the pent-up desire from the past few days burst in a torrent of heat. He was ravenous for her taste and for her hand to encircle his hardness, and he indulged in her eager response that was opposite her usual shyness during lovemaking.

Restless fingers tangled into his hair, clasping his head in place as she kissed him back and met his demand with urgency. When her hips impatiently pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, his cock grew uncomfortably heavy.

He dragged his mouth from hers, twisting her hair in his fist. "Jesus, if ye dinnae take it down a notch, I'll burst in my pants like a schoolboy."

She blinked as if coming from a long sleep, her lips wet and puffy from his kisses and cheeks bright pink. She gave him a slow smile that promised unspoken pleasures, sending his heart up to his mouth. "Not my fault," she hummed, going up on her toes to teasingly brush her mouth over his. "You made me wait this long." Maintaining eye contact, she took a step back and stripped off her clothes, revealing her matching red bra and panty. "So enough talk, Jamie. I can't wait much more. I want you now," she whispered huskily.

Her words did it. His lust-filled brain only gave him a split second to process what she'd just said before the need to be inside her dismissed everything else. That urge he'd felt to make up for lost time raced out of control. He could only see Claire with her dazed eyes, parted lips and loads of naked skin.

He seized her hips, walking her backwards and crowding her against the dining table, pushing the chairs aside to make space. Her breath rose and fell in a choppy rhythm as his mouth dipped for a desperate kiss.

Her mouth moved in perfect unison with his, wee sounds vibrating up her throat, ending where their lips frantically worked together. Lust pumping in his veins, he roughly settled her sweet bottom on the table and gingerly hooked his fingers into the lacey band of her knickers, shoving it down her legs. When she began tugging at the waistband of his jeans, he groaned into her mouth, knowing she needed him just as bad.

"I planned to make slow love to ye tonight. But now I cannae ...because I cannae wait to have ye." His hand slipped between their bodies, and he palmed her between her thighs. Ah, sweet Jesus! Sliding a finger deep into the wet heat of her entrance, he tested and teased, revelling the way her fingernails dug onto the skin of his shoulders in response, his head spinning at the feel of her moistness. "Christ, ye look so needy, ye're giving me nae choice but to take ye right here ...like a wild beast."

"Oh, shoosh, Jamie. Quit talking about it now. You want it just as bad." She began to undo his belt buckle, nipping at his neck as she yanked and shoved. When he was finally freed, he nearly fainted at the relief of no longer being restrained to his jeans. The relief was fleeting, though, when her smooth hands encircled his throbbing cock, her tight grip moving up and down, twisting at the base, preparing him when the only thing he needed was to be inside her. Ah, Christ, but it feels so good. Far too good ...

He couldn't take it anymore. He knew he wouldn't last long. "Enough!" he gritted.

She gave him a look like he'd just taken her favourite toy. She unhooked her bra in retaliation and pushed her breasts up like an offering. His breath caught in his throat, stunned by the vision, her eyes, a translucent gold gleaming with arousal, beckoning him to take his fill.

He parted her legs and fisted his cock before rubbing its tip at her entrance. "I've missed ye so much. I might not last long, but I want this to be good for ye," he whispered hoarsely. "I may be a bit rough," He dipped his head, forcing her back to arch like a bow as he bestowed kisses on her breasts. "Are ye alright with that?"

She nodded, feeling her shudder with anticipation and need.

"Is that what ye want?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Take me however you want."

He whipped off his top and lowered his hand to her buttock, coasting his palm over the firm, rounded flesh and squeezing it tight. "Wrap yer legs around me."

Claire's legs wrapped around his middle and her arms around his neck. Her thighs glid around his waist with such exquisite perfection that he had to bite the tender flesh on the side of her neck to stop from shouting. The friction of his cock sliding between her legs where he'd touched with his fingers was too much. Almost propelling him past his breaking point. Too impatient to take the time to savour, he gripped himself and pushed deep into her entrance.

Watching her teeth bite onto her bottom lip as if to stop a scream from escaping, he groaned out loud as he pushed inch by inch, his focus whittling down to Claire and the heat enveloping his cock. Everything ceased to exist. He pulled out slightly before thrusting again, their mutual moans resounding on the walls of the cottage.

He shifted closer, needing to feel and touch all of her as possible. Keeping their lips locked, he seized her hips and started to move to the ancient dance of mating. There were no words to express the rough, grinding pace of what he did to her. It only bloomed more intense when she began matching his moves, widening her thighs and rolling her hips like she couldn't get enough.

"Oh sweet Lord, ye feel too good," he muttered against her mouth, hips pounding furiously. "How did I stay away from this?"

She gripped the back of his neck. "I missed this too," she gasped. "Please don't stop."

"I'm not hurting ye, am I? Tell me if I'm too rough."

"No ...no, don't be gentle. I need you to take me hard."

A tide surged inside him, mounting and building like a storm. Jamie roughly raised her hips to reposition her, dragging her arse to the edge of the table, her sweet moans telling him she'd like that. Unable to think past how she wanted it harder, there was no easing down now. He could only yank her leg higher and demand she keep up, ramming into her rough and fast. Her sighs and breath came out like hot rushes of air, thighs squeezing around him and starting to tremble. When her internal walls clenched around his cock, it warned him of her imminent climax, making his balls drew up so tight they ached. He dragged her flush to his body and buried his face in her neck, grunting with every deep thrust and muttering her name while his own release clamoured in his belly.

"Jamie!" she screamed, convulsing against him. He immediately silenced her cries with a deep kiss, but she flung her head back and squirmed, tightening up where their bodies joined, pulsing and throbbing. "Oh my God."

He couldn't wait any longer. Hooking his arms under her legs, he pumped his hardness in jerky hauls, faster and faster until his visions blurred. The whimpering noises she made launched him higher, signalling his own peak, and he soared towards it, his climax made more intense from the knowledge that it was Claire who got him there. He thrust into her one final time and thrust deep, growling her name into her hair and squashing her to his chest as he'd borne the full force of what they'd done.

"Oh, Christ, Sassenach."

Her hands ran up and down his back as she continued to take huge gulps of air. He knew he was crushing her, but he wasn't ready to let go. He wanted to remain buried inside her, holding her like this. With her heels digging into his arse and her arms around his neck. They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

He was about to say "none of her business" when Claire came up behind him, dressed back in her jeans and top. "Mrs Fitz, how are you? Is everything alright?"

Jamie stepped back and observed how Mrs Fitz's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He figured instantly, his neighbour must have seen that kiss from Geneva earlier and that she'd probably thought the worse of him after hearing Claire's passionate screams. Right there and then, he decided, this time, he definitely needed to soundproof his home from eavesdropping neighbours.

"Ach, I saw light in yer windows," Mrs Fitz beamed, ignoring Jamie's glare. "Ye see, I've made too many pies and thought ye might like one. I remember ye enjoying this when ye stayed with yer friend over at my place this past Christmas."

"Oh, how lovely," Claire gushed, taking the plate from Mrs Fitz. "Thank you so much. Just what Jamie and I need right now ..." She blushed profusely, contemplating her words. "...after a long day."

Mrs Fitz clapped her hands. "I thought that!"

Seeing how thrilled Claire was looking at the desert, Jamie tamped down the urge to say something sarcastic and just scowled at her.

Mrs Fitz must have read his thoughts as this time it was her turn to crimson, a probable sign of her guilt for being nosey. Suddenly at a loss for words, she rubbed her palms at her sides. "Weel, ye both enjoy it. I must get going as it's rather late. Good night, both of ye." With that, she whirled around and disappeared into the night.

He shut the door and sighed, and followed Claire to the kitchen.

"Lovely lady," Claire remarked, sniffing the pie before placing it on the counter.

He turned her around and kissed her slowly, groaning when she opened her mouth for him without hesitation. "Ye're lovelier," he said against her lips. "But I'm not done with ye yet."

She grinned. "Pie first?"

Realising he'd never be able to compete with Mrs Fitz's homemade pie, he laughed out loud. "Absolutely ...why not?"

Dear Readers,

Well, here you go, their reunion! I hope you've enjoyed this lust-filled chapter. I must admit, though, when I was editing the sex part, I deliberately drank Bloody Mary to lose a bit of inhibition and make the scene a bit grittier. I hope it worked, but if it's too dirty for you, I say tough! 😆 Just kidding!

Anyway, thank you for commenting and showing your appreciation for my writing and your well wishes. I don't always reply back but be assured, your feedback is very much appreciated and anticipated.

And before I forget, it's not long now before this arc finishes. There will be an arc three, and I will let you know more on my next update.

Signing off now and wishing you a fabulous weekend. Stay safe and always take care! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

pink lemonade

A/n: I...had a cliche moment of I wrote this and it got deleted bc my computer had a hissy fit while I was trying to find a good pic to use. All I want to say is that I spent weeks agonizing over this piece because I wasn’t sure that it was good enough and that it touched on bi!reader as much as it should. I started it out in Harry’s POV and it kind of just took off from there. This is very heavily based off a song from one of my favorite bands. It’s called pink lemonade by the wombats and it really gave me inspiration to write this whole fic and for my reader and flatmate!h. I hope that I did this justice, because as a bi woman, I know how little representation we get in media and in fics. So thank you to the beautiful @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines for hosting a challenge that made me feel included. I really appreciate and love you both so much!

warnings: smut, drug use mention, angst, harry’s pov

word count: 4.3k+

Please enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think!

Friday Night

Harry remembers the day he met his flatmate.

She was a little shorter than him, but her personality definitely made her seem much taller. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her Rolling Stones shirt tucked in, and her jeans cuffed at the bottom. She introduced herself to him with a dazzling smile and a witty joke about being a stereotypical bisexual being. It made him laugh, pulling her into a hug (after asking her permission) because they were going to be flatmates and she needed to know he was a hugger. He didn’t want to start off on an awkward note with a person he would be spending so much time with. He suggested they order some pizza and drink wine on the floor of their living room on their first night.

Their furniture hadn’t been delivered or moved in yet, so they had to settle for putting a few of y/n’s pillows under their bums while they watched comedy specials on Harry’s laptop. A majority of their evening was spent giggling and sharing stories about their previous experiences with old girlfriends. He found it oddly comforting that the beautiful girl was a little bit different, because he had always felt that way in life. With her, he didn’t feel so alone in being different. Perhaps that was one of the things that made him fall in love with her. She was a bright, radiant soul that brought him more joy than anyone else ever had. But she could be a bit thick, sometimes.

As he watched her prance around their apartment in her tight mini-dress, he tried his best not to let her see his obvious attraction to her.

The pillow on his lap would seem obvious to just about anyone else, but not to his precious flatmate. She practically floated through life, oblivious to how people looked at her when she moved. She was like a walking porn ad, her beautiful hair and gorgeous smile nearly impossible to ignore. He tried not to focus too hard on what she was wearing, but christ, it was hard not to. Her legs looked a little longer due to the black heeled booties she’d put on and she was most definitely wearing tights with little sparkles in the fabric.

He hated seeing her dressed up like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be the one sliding his hands up her dress in the backseat of the taxi on the way home. He wouldn’t be the one gripping at her thighs while she straddled him on their shared couch. He wouldn’t be the one making her scream, unable to contain herself as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her. He hated that she was wearing the perfect shade of red on her lips, a shade that painted the walls of the prison cell in his own personal hell inside. He wanted to smear it off her lips with his own, kissing her until she was breathless and begging.

Instead, he flipped through the channels on the telly, pretending to pay attention.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out, Harry?” She stood in front of him, pouting her lips out as she tilted her head to the side. He shook his head as she crossed her arms, the gesture pushing her breasts up just a little. Fuck me, Harry thought. “You love going out!”

“I know, love.” He grumbled, glancing behind her as if she was in the way. “But I’m not really in the mood to party tonight and I don’t want to bring the mood down.”

“Well, I don’t feel right going out without you.” She sighed, dropping her arms to the side, causing Harry to look up at her. “Maybe I should stay home? We can order takeout and-”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head. “You have a date. You can’t stand him up!”

“He’s just some rando from Tinder, I really don’t care about his feelings.,H.” She snorted out a laugh, rolling those perfect eyes as he tried to fight off a smile. “I’d rather be with you if you’re feeling down.”

“Don’t give up the chance for a good time because I’m a grumpy old man.” He shook his head. “I really want you to go out.”

“Okay, okay.” She let out a heavy exhale, stepping farther away. “How do I look?”

“Perfect.” He didn’t tear his eyes away from the telly, knowing he would overshare if he actually looked at her right now.

“You didn’t even look!” She laughed around a playful groan. “Boys.”

“I’m a man, love!” He called out as she walked into the kitchen for her keys. “If you’re too drunk, call me. Don’t go home with your random tinder date and-”

“Lock the door when I’m home.” She nodded. “I know the rules, dad.”

“Please do not ever call me that again.” Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Go, get out of here and go have some fun. Tell everyone I said hi.”

“I will!” She smiled. “Bye, roomie!”

“Bye!” He waved, his heart sinking as the door shut behind her. “Guess I’ll be having a sad wank about that later.”

Harry grumbled, sinking further into the cushions of their shared couch.

******************************************

Saturday Morning

The guy from Friday seemed to be a keeper.

He was there the next morning when Harry was making a hangover breakfast in the kitchen for his flatmate. He strutted in without a shirt or a word, reaching for a coffee cup as if he owned the place. Last time Harry checked, only two people paid rent here. Harry watched from the stove, spatula in hand as he glared at the man’s back. What a sodding prick. With a quick roll of his eyes, Harry pushed around the potatoes he’d chopped up earlier. Of course she brought him home. It had been weeks since she’d had a proper shag and it was bound to happen sooner or later. And even if Harry hated to admit it, the man standing in his kitchen gave it to her proper. Harry closed his eyes, cringing at memory of her moans melded with the banging of her headboard against the wall last night.

He hadn’t heard her moan out like that in a long time. Halfway through orgasm number two out of god knows how many, Harry shoved his headphones in and tried not to cry. He hated that someone else was making her feel so good that she was screaming the bloody walls down. He wanted to sink into her, to have her screaming out his name instead. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not even in his dreams could he have her, always cutting off right around the time his hands landed on her hips.

“Oh, didn’t see you there, mate.” The guy turned around. “M’Alfie.”

“Harry.” He grumbled, reaching up to the heat down. “Y/N’s roommate.”

“She told me about you.” Alfie nodded. “Said you’re a right laugh when you’re drinking.”

“Did she now?” Harry hummed as if he was actually interested in the conversation.

“Shame you didn’t come out with us.” Alfie said. “Y/N was a fucking animal. Have you ever had sex with her? I mean she’s amazing when she’s high.”

Harry wanted to vomit.

This guy was a total prick.

“Yeah, what a shame.” Harry cleared his throat, glancing over at Alfie. “When Y/N wakes up, let her know that breakfast is here. She’s going to want two pieces of toast with butter.”

“I will tell her.” Alfie sipped out of the bright pink mug and Harry’s face grew hot. That was his mug, the one that Y/N got him for Christmas last year. The little lamb on the front with a comical smile was mocking him now. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, I’m stellar.”

Harry stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

He nearly made it to his door when she stumbled out of her bedroom.

“Morning, Harry.” She yawned before smiling at her roommate.

He didn’t respond, ducking past her and into his bedroom.

Maybe he didn’t really know the girl he loved after all.

*******************************

Another Magical Friday Night

Alfie, as it turns out, wasn’t a keeper.

During their second escapade, Alfie shouting to the top of his lungs pulled Harry out of his half-asleep state. His heart sank and his blood ran cold as he sprinted out of his bedroom to Y/N’s. When he got there, Alfie was storming out of her bedroom, half dressed with a red face. Harry stood in Y/N’s doorway, avoiding her gaze as she struggled to put a t-shirt on. After a few moments, Harry couldn’t stand to hear her soft whimpers and loud sniffles. He tore his own shirt off, walking over to where she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her.

“S’alright,” He cooed, sitting down in front of her as he slipped his shirt over her head. “It’s okay, love.”

“I’m sorry we woke you up.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the column of his throat as she cried. “I know you have an early yoga class tomorrow.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He said softly, rubbing his hand over her back. “Tell me what he did?”

“He didn’t do anything.” She shook her head, pulling back as she wiped at her cheeks. “I just...Alfie dabbles a bit in drugs and I tried some with him last week, but I didn’t like it. I told him I didn’t want to do it again and he called me a whore and a tease.”

Harry’s jaw tensed as he watched his best friend hiccup, swiping under her eyes again.

“You are not a whore.” Harry reached up, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, demanding her attention. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you need to be ashamed of yourself.”

“Thank you.” She sniffled. “Sleep with me tonight?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Let’s go to my room instead, okay?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her he couldn’t sleep in her bed right now.

Not after Alfie had been in it.

“Okay.” She gave him a wavering smile. “Thank you, H.”

“Anytime.”

Harry held her that night, his heart pounding against his chest as she cuddled into him.

As he drifted off, he mumbled out loud, “This must be what heaven feels like.”

He hoped she didn’t hear him.

****************************

Harry decided that if Y/N was going out this Friday, he was too.

He couldn’t stand the thought of her going out without him by her side after last week’s incident with Alfie. There was no Tinder date for her to meet up with, just Harry and a few other friends who wanted to have a good time. They got ready in their shared bathroom together, pre-gaming with whatever they had left as they sang loudly to Harry’s pre-game playlist. When she spritzed her perfume over her neck, Harry’s mouth started to water.

The warm vanilla and citrus hybrid was damn near a love potion to him.

“Alright,” She nodded, giving herself a once over in the mirror. “I’m ready.”

“You look perfect.” He smiled, trailing his eyes up from her vegan, leather combat boots to her black skinny jeans, finally settling on the lacy bodysuit that she had recently purchased. “S’a bit like lingerie, innit it?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders, pursuing her lips as Harry looked at her eyes. “But it’s nice and light and extremely sexy.”

“One of those nights?” Harry’s brows quirked up and he forced a little smirk to settle on his lips as she nodded. “Good, you deserve a bit of fun.”

And he actually meant it, this time.

She did deserve to have a little fun after Alfie

He could suck it up for one night if the girl he loved would be happy at the end of it.

“I do.” She giggled, reaching down to grab the bottle of tequila set on the bathroom countertop, wiggling it around. “One more shot for good luck?”

“Pour it up.”

*****************************

Harry bucked his hips up as the girl above him rolled her hips over his denim clad cock.

This time, he brought someone home.

Granted, Y/N brought someone home as well, he now had a distraction to keep his mind busy and his cock wet while his flatmate got off. The girl he’d met at the club was so sweet, her hazel eyes enticing him the moment his gaze met hers. Her lips were so soft and they tasted like strawberries. He wondered what Y/N tasted like? They were normally covered in gloss when she went out, shiny and peachy. Did her lips taste like peach? Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the girl dug her nails into his stomach.

“Can I take your pants off?” She asked, timid and soft. Nothing like Y/N demanding the naughtiest of things on the other side of the wall. “I’m ready to...I want to ride you.”

“Okay, yeah.” Harry opened his eyes, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. He pressed a few soft kisses over her jaw before catching her mouth in his. “Just a second, love.”

“You’re sweet.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, swinging her leg over his thighs as he reached for his buttons.

“Fuck, yes!”

Harry rolled his eyes, fumbling with the zipper on his trousers as the girl next to him slapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“She’s loud.” She giggled, reaching down to start working on her heels.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “I’m really sorry about that. I...I didn’t know she would be bringing someone-”

“Right there, y/n! Yes baby yes!”

“Jesus.” He let out a huff, reaching his hand up to tap the wall with his fist. “Oi, other people are trying to have fun here.”

“Oh my god.” The girl tossed her head back, barking out a laugh. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine.”

“Sorry, H.” Y/N called back. “We’ll keep it down.”

“I just don’t want to ruin the mood for us.” He shuffled out of his jeans and boxers, tossing them to the side before he looked back at her.

“I’m okay.” She climbed on top of him again, her shoes now tossed aside and her dress hiked up to her hips. “I really, really don’t care about anything else but fucking you right now.”

“Oh.” Harry’s cheeks were surely tinged pink as she gripped his cock in her hand, stroking up with gentle movements. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing her free hand to his shoulder. He fell back onto the mattress, dropping his hands to her thighs. “I promise I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you won’t even know there’s anyone else in the world besides me.”

Harry dropped his head back, digging his nails into her thighs as she lined herself up with his cock. It had been so long since he’d fucked anyone, his emotions for Y/N a huge cock-block that he couldn’t seem to shake. Other girls just didn’t do it for him anymore. But tonight, the alcohol in his veins and the vision of Y/N nearly fingering some girl in the back of the club reminded him that he was free to fuck whoever he wanted, despite his love for Y/N.

“Y/N!”

Harry let out a heavy sigh through his nose, the sound of Y/N’s one night stand screaming making the fire in his belly dim just a little. He didn’t even care that his own girl was sinking onto his cock, soaking wet and tight like a vice. He barely even remembered that she was on top of him until she moaned his name out.

He opened his eyes, watching her face contort as she settled onto his thighs.

“You’re huge.” She whispered, tilting her head back. “I swear I’ve never had...never had someone so big, fuck.”

“Yeah?” He licked over his bottom lip, sliding a palm up to her belly. “Feel me there?”

“Mhm.” She whimpered, gripping onto his wrist. “M’so full.”

“Y/N, please let me cum.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, reaching his hands up to rub over his face.

“Are they bothering you?” The girl asked softly, lifting off of his cock. “Because it seems like they are.”

“A little, yeah.” Harry nodded, wincing as his cock slapped against his stomach. “I’m really sorry, it’s not that you aren’t amazing-”

“I get it, it’s okay.” She fell next to him as his cock started to soften. “I would be kind of wigged out if my roommate was fucking while I was too.”

“She does this every Friday night.” Harry said. “And...not to continue ruining whatever we had going between us, but I’m kind of in love with her.”

“Oh.” The girl whispered. “That would really turn me off.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “And I was trying to have fun for once, you know? Because she seems to go about life oblivious to my feelings and I’m stuck pining for her while she’s fucking whoever she wants to.”

“Do you think she knows that you like her?” His date asked.

“I don’t know, probably not.” He mumbled, turning his head to look at her. “You don’t have to listen to me moan on about it, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” She turned on her side, pressing her palm to his chest. “I have a feeling you haven’t talked to anyone about this and it’s not very healthy to keep things bottled up.”

“You’re right about that.” Harry smiled. “You know, I have a friend who would absolutely adore you.”

“Is it Y/N?” She giggled. “Because I don’t swing that way.”

“Oi, you think I’d let you shag the girl I just told you I’m in love with?” He laughed, his brows crinkling together as he reached over to pinch her hip. “It’s not her.”

“Good.” She laughed with Harry, sliding closer to him. “Would it be weird if I stay?”

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s the least I can do after wasting your time.”

“And...what about a cuddle?” She asked. “Because I do enjoy a good cuddle session.”

“I can deal with that, I think.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. “Thank you.”

*****************************

The next morning, Harry was livid.

He sent his date, Halle was her name, off with a sweet kiss and a coffee to-go. Maybe in another life, she would have been perfect for him. A soft, sweet girl with kind eyes and a willingness to listen to him. Unfortunately for him, he was too far up his obnoxious flatmate’s ass to see anyone else. And even if it made things awkward between them, he had to tell her how he felt. There was no way he could keep going on like this if there was a way to prevent it.

“Good morning,” She chirped, her hand linked with the girl she brought home last night. “Are we having breakfast?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Harry snapped, taking his coffee mug and his breakfast plate from the counter. “I don’t care.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped and the girl’s eyes grew wide.

Harry didn’t say another word, walking past the two girls.

He hated being a dick, but lashing out made him feel the tiniest bit better about what happened last night. He pushed his bedroom door open with his hip, settling back into bed as he flicked through his options on Netflix. He wasn’t even thinking of Y/N, his mind struggling to remember whether or not he’d seen the last episode of the Great British Bake-Off. When he realized that he hadn’t, clicking on the title to start the episode, his bedroom door flew open and his roommate stormed in.

“Fuck you!” She snapped, reaching for his remote, standing in front of his bed with a scowl on her perfect lips. “I don’t know who pissed in your cheerios this morning, but you don’t get to talk to me like that! Especially not in front of guests.”

“Okay.” Harry shrugged. “Can I have my remote-”

“No, you can’t!” She shouted, tossing her hands up as she let out a noise crossed between a groan and a growl. “What’s your deal?”

“I haven’t exactly finished my coffee, love.” Harry was trying not to relish in the sight of his roommate frustrated and adorable. The feeling she was experiencing now was a fraction of what he felt every time he heard her through the wall. “Maybe come back later?”

“Are you upset because I fucked someone last night and you didn’t?” Her brows shot up. “I know you didn’t cum last night and neither did the girl you brought home. Are you mad because you’re shit in bed?”

“Maybe we were quiet. You know, decent and considerate of other people,” The smile he gave her was sarcastic. “Or maybe- and this is a good one- maybe, I had a girl sitting on my cock, ready to fuck me so bloody good I would cry, but I couldn’t let her because all I could think about was how much I love you. ”

“What?” She asked, her mouth falling ajar.

“Maybe when I was kissing her at the club, I was thinking about kissing you.” He set his coffee mug down on his nightstand, continuing on. “And maybe when I had my fingers in her cunt, I was thinking about you. And maybe, just maybe, every time you fuck someone so loud that it keeps me up at night, I wish it was me instead.”

She didn’t say anything, watching as Harry moved forward. He snagged the remote from her hand, proud of his little confession. He turned the show back on, ignoring his roommate as she stood there with her eyes wide. He smirked, crossing his legs before he settled his hand on his stomach.

“You process that and I’m just gonna watch Noel and Paul bicker.” Harry said.

“You’re an asshole.” She whispered. “You...you can’t just be upset with me because I didn’t know that you liked me.”

“I’m not upset with you,” He said. “I’m a little upset that I was trying to have a good time for once and you ruined it with you and your girl’s pornstar moaning, but I’m not upset with you. That would be extremely unfair of me.”

“Why have you never said anything?” She cleared her throat, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized shirt. “We’ve been roommates for years, Harry.”

“Because I love you as a friend, too.” He started. “I didn’t want to risk it.”

“And now?” She squeaked out. “You’re willing to risk it now?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m tired of wishing that it was me on the other side of this wall, Y/N. So...take some time to think about what I said and let me know if you’d be willing to give it a try. No hard feelings if you don’t want the same thing, I completely understand and I’ll respect your choice either way. We’ll just have to work out some arrangement where you let me know when you have someone-”

“I want to try.” She said quickly, kneeling on the edge of the bed. “Because I really like you, Harry. Like, the only reason I’ve brought so many people back home with me is because I couldn’t have you. I knew that there was no way in hell you would like a girl like me. I’m obnoxious and boisterous and just...I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re kidding?” His brows shot up. “You thought...oh my god, we’re both bloody idiots.”

“You’re telling me.” She laughed, falling on her ass in front of him. “This whole time I’ve been fucking people that loudly to make you jealous and the entire time you’ve been listening, imaging it was you?”

“I guess so.” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that leaves us with two options.”

“And what might those be?” She asked, a soft smile settling on her lips.

“I take you out for brunch, maybe a nice walk in the park, and then I bring you home and fuck you so hard you won’t even remember the orgasms you had last night.” He lifted one finger up, smiling as he watched her inhale sharply. “Or option two, I fuck you now and we go to brunch later?”

“Wouldn’t it just be lunch by then?” She tilted her head to the side, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “I mean...that defeats the purpose, yeah?”

“Really, that’s-” Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re missing the point.”

“I’m not.” She leaned forward, sliding her hands over his thighs. “I see it clear as day.”

“And what does your heart tell you to do?” He licked over his bottom lip as she moved closer, her nose nearly bumping against his.

“To take you up on option two.” She whispered. “Because it’s really not fair that I came five times last night and you didn’t come, not even once.”

“Fuck.” Harry sputtered out as she brushed her lips over his. “Kiss me?”

She pressed her lips into his, moving his body back onto his pillows. She moved over him, straddling his thighs as she deepened the kiss. When her tongue slipped over his bottom lip, his mouth fell open in response. His hands fell to her hips, digging into the soft flesh as his mind tried to catch up. The girl of his dreams was sitting on his lap, in his bed, and she wanted him. She wanted him just as bad as he wanted her. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, sure that he was just a fever dream or a nightmare that he would wake up from any second. But he was brought back to reality when her tongue slipped over his.

And at that moment, Harry knew he was right.

She did taste like peach.

#hsbificathon

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years

Text

Kinktober #13: can we always be this close? - Mirio Togata

In which you and Mirio spend a very romantic birthday evening together.

Characters: Mirio Togata / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) Quirkless Mirio, aged up characters, fluffy smut, fluffy fluff, this is tooth-achingly syrupy, with the barest edge of heartfelt angst. Boxed-birthday cake sweet.

Notes: It’s my birthday today. This is extremely feelsy and self-indulgent. I offer no apology.

Title inspired by this song.

Kinktober Masterlist

“Are you almost ready? Seriously gonna explode out here.”

You’re putting the last finishing touches on your hair as Mirio knocks on the bathroom door. Bless his heart, he’s been nice enough to give you full reign of the bathroom for the last hour and a half for the sake of your big reveal when you’re finally ready to go.

But you know Mirio well- big heart, small bladder.

“I’m coming!” You promise. “Thirty seconds and I’m outta here.” You take one last spritz of hairspray through your style, tousling the strands gently with your fingers. Then you unplug your styling tools, smooth on your favourite lipstick (the one that makes you look ‘the most kissable,’ according to Mirio) and pivot toward the door.

Your fingers hover over the handle for an instant. You take a deep breath.

When you pull the door open, Mirio’s standing directly on the other side of it. He looks polished as hell in a pair of well-fitting dark wash jeans and a turtleneck sweater that you bought him last winter. Your heart goes squish as you brace one hand in the frame of the door and watch his expression light at the sight of you.

“Aw, man,” he hums. His eyelashes flick downward as he takes you in. You’re dressed in the same fashion that he is- casual but polished, in a way that makes you feel the most comfortable and beautiful in your own skin.

“You sure it’s not my birthday?” He reaches for you, pulling you closer by the wrist. “’Cause lemme tell ya, that was worth waiting for.” He leans down and goes for a kiss, ducking sideways at the last moment to catch the corner of your mouth instead.

“Get in there,” you giggle, gently brushing past him and ushering him into the bathroom. “I’m hungry.”

Tonight’s dinner is something that Mirio insisted on. While the company you work for normally gives you a day off for your birthday, this year, yours happened to fall in the middle of the week. You decided to defer your day off until Friday, giving you a long weekend to enjoy instead. It means you still had to work on the actual day, but… you don’t mind. Not when Mirio’s been treating you like a princess from the moment you woke up.

He even stopped by your office earlier to drop off your favourite takeout for lunch. All your coworkers know him- he visits you at work a lot- and they’re completely smitten. You can’t help but adore how likeable he is, even if it tries your envious nerve every once in a while.

Your friends joke that he’s more like a golden retriever than a partner. But you know it goes both ways. You would do anything in the world for him.

You hold hands on the train like a new couple all over again, leaning against the doors and kissing between stops. You don’t care who sees. Mirio’s thrilled to be getting away with so much PDA. And when your stop finally comes up, you’re still grinning as you tug him onto the platform.

He takes you to your favourite restaurant, a ramen place downtown. You get potato dashi ramen, which comes with chewy egg noodles and a scoop of sour cream. It’s like a baked potato in a bowl of noodles. You know it’s not exactly the romantic evening that most couples would have planned, but there’s nothing that brings you more joy than cozying up in a little table by the window and slurping away on hot broth and noodles with Mirio smiling across at you.

As you’re finishing up, a slice of white chocolate cheesecake with a sparkler (and two forks) comes to your table. Mirio swears he had nothing to do with it, but he adores embarrassing you on your birthday. And the sparkle behind his navy gaze is a dead giveaway.

It’s not until after you’ve both scraped the plate clean and you’re holding hands across the table that you decide to forgive him.

He’s brushing his thumb over your ring finger, toying back and forth with the sparkly diamond that sits there.

“Y’know,” he muses, “I was actually planning on saving that for tonight.”

You’re resting your chin in your other hand, but that doesn’t stop you from grinning. “Really?”

He nods, licking his lips to hide an indulgent smile. “I carried that thing around in my pocket for weeks. But then, when you said there was gonna be an eclipse…” He trails off and shrugs, smiling brighter. “It’s like it all fell into place.”

A couple of weeks ago, the moon fell into the Earth’s shadow for the first time in years. It was a beautiful clear night and just warm enough that the two of you could climb to the roof of your apartment building and huddle together under a couple of blankets.

It was there, under the dim glow of the eclipsed moon, that he’d dropped to one knee and promised you forever. To you, it was a complete surprise.

You’re still moony about it now. If you close your eyes, you can picture every single detail. But when you open them again, the look on Mirio’s face is not so different as he admires you across the table.

“It was perfect,” you told him. “That night was perfect.”

He pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your ring. “C’mon,” he mumbles. “Let’s get outta here.”

He takes you home and skirts you in the front door. Your apartment is still dark when he strokes your cheeks and kisses you, lingering and sweet in the hallway.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers to you, soft and vulnerable in the low light.

“I love you,” you murmur, holding him tight. He gets like this sometimes. He’s lost so much, it’s easy to imagine you slipping through his fingers, too. You know he’s trying hard not to let it show tonight but you’re not about to let that stop you. You reach for him, cupping his cheek and pulling his shadowy gaze to yours.

“Hey,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he huffs, stealing another kiss as he scoops you into his arms. He whisks you into the bedroom, laying you across the sheets. He flicks on the lamp by your bedside and it casts a warm blanket of light across your body.

His weight descends on top of you and you catch yourself thinking if this is it, if nothing comes after this life with him, I’ll be okay.

He strips you down, piece by piece, kissing every inch of the skin he’s exposing. Every moment you spend together feels precious- you’ve both been reminded, time and time again, how quickly it can all be stolen from you. Not this, you pray when the night is at its darkest, take anything, but let me have him.

“Let me love you,” he whispers to you, sliding down your bare body, “with everything I have tonight.”

He loops his arms under your thighs, nuzzling the soft skin where your leg joins your body. His eyes stray to your face as he licks up your slit. He watches you sigh, watches you shiver, watches you fall.

But he’s always there to catch you.

He licks until you’re begging him to stop and comes back to you bare. His body is strong and sculpted but scarred, serving as a solemn reminder of the life he was forced to give up. Just another dream that had been stolen from him.

But you, the life that you’re capable of building together- that’s become his new dream. He’s promised to love you completely. He wants to raise your children. He wants to build you a home. Maybe he’ll never save a million souls, but if he can bring you happiness, if he can be good for you, that’ll be enough.

When you’re finally ready for him, he keeps his body as close to yours as possible while he pushes inside you. One of his hands grips your thigh, but the other is intertwined with yours, smoothing across the bedsheets as his thumb strokes your knuckles.

He’s steady and strong, but tender as a lamb, whispering his love for you as he fucks you slow and rhythmic. You clutch at his back and grab his ass, urging his rhythm forward. But he keeps it easy until he can’t take it anymore.

And when he breaks, he breaks hard.

He thrusts into you with a brutal rhythm, letting all the words die between you. The harsh breath that you share is punctuated by the slap of his thighs against yours. He slips a hand between your bodies, driving you to the edge one more time- whimpering and sighing and quivering through your climax- before he can’t hold out and slips into ecstasy alongside you.

When he loses himself against you, you hold him tight and savour every moment. The tremor of his thighs against yours. The way his voice jumps from his chest to his throat as his expression scrunches into one of sheer ecstasy. The spill of sloppy warmth inside you-sinfully satisfying. But more precious than anything is the way that he collapses on top of you and peppers slow, sweaty kisses across your skin before he’s ready to pull out.

When he finally rolls off of you, you’re quick to shift onto your side, reaching for him. You wind your arms around one another, and he draws you in close, letting you rest your chin on top of his head as your legs tangle.

“Happy Birthday,” he mumbles into your neck, for only the dozenth time that day. You close your eyes and try to suppress your laugh, but you know he can feel it vibrating in your chest.

“What a time to remind me,” you tease. “I’m getting old.”

“Oh!” He bolts upright, suddenly alert. “Your present, baby.”

“No way. Give it to me tomorrow,” you hum. “I’m not letting you out of bed.”

“But…” He turns back to you, pouting. “I can’t give it to you a day late. That’s like… like I missed it.”

“How about…” you trail off, “I open it first thing in the morning. You’ll know and I’ll know. Nobody else will. Please? I’m so comfy.”

Satisfied, he settles down again. This time it’s your head he tucks under his chin, kissing the top of your head.

Later that night, moments from sleep, you feel him stir in your arms. He kisses your head again, wraps his fingers gently around your palm. You don’t move.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers to you. “I’m the luckiest man in the world, y’know that?”

You drop off a few minutes later in total peace. It’s not something you ever thought you would have, but… with him, it comes as easy as the morning.

#mirio togata x reader #mirio x reader #mirio x you #mirio togata x you #kinktober #mirio togata #lemillion #my hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years

Note

If you are still taking prompts, and were so inclined, 47 for Gideon the Ninth!

I am always so inclined. Enjoy this... this thing. Gets a bit rude because, well, Gideon.

47. “You look like hell.”

---

“You look like hell.”

Gideon startles at the sound of Coronabeth Tridentarius actually speaking to her. She sounds more intrigued than judgemental, as if hell were an exotic travel destination she’s not yet been to but is eager to learn more about. Gideon is, not for the first time, grateful for her affected vow of silence as all possibility of coherent thought abandons her tongue. She would surely be a stuttering gay mess if she tried to speak to a woman as beautiful as this particular princess of Ida. With her feigned vow, she can still pull off the “strong but silent” affect and at least somewhat salvage the impression of being a suave badass who’s great with the ladies.

Or she could if she weren’t currently a panting, heaving, sweat drenched, bone dust coated, blood smeared, tattered mess.

It figures that Harrow doesn’t even have to be in the same room with Gideon to have completely ruined her game. Gideon draws herself up to her full height and squares her shoulders - fighting the urge to slump into an exhausted heap on the floor - and straightens her crooked aviators. She hopes that her face paint is still a badass skull and not a runny mess of gray; they’re not big on mirrors down in the facility. Her spine stiffens as Coronabeth steps toward her, smiling like they’re sharing a secret, and brushes one perfect hand lightly at each of Gideon’s shoulders, scattering fine chips of bone onto the floor.

“Poor thing,” Coronabeth purrs, locking Gideon in place with intense eye contact even through her shades. “Your necro’s really running you ragged, isn’t she?”

The last thing Gideon wants to talk about while a beautiful woman is touching her - actually touching her! Okay, touching the shoulders of her robes, but still! - is her screeching ferret of a necromancer. Her distaste must show in her expression even through the caked on layers of sweaty paint because Coronabeth chuckles prettily and squeezes her shoulder - Gideon tenses her sick delts reflexively, desperate to please - and gives her a conspiratorial smirk. “That’s alright. I won’t ask you to divulge any forbidden secrets about the Ninth House or the trials.” She runs clever fingers around the hem of Gideon’s hood - a rumpled heap around her neck, having fallen down as she heaved herself up the ladder from the facility in a hurry to get herself to a sonic - and winks suggestively enough that Gideon swallows hard. “She really must be putting you through the ringer. You know, I feel quite sorry for you cavs sometimes. So much is asked of you, and you get so little in return…”

Gideon has passed out. Surely, this must be what has happened. She’ll wake up in her nest of black blankets with a dirty magazine glued to her face by skull paint and drool, completely covered in sticky notes blackened with Harrowhark’s vitriol. Because it sure as hell feels like Coronabeth - Coronabeth Tridentarius, crown Princess of Ida, hottest necromancer this side of the funny books - is flirting with her. With her. Gideon Nav, indentured servant of the Ninth, perpetually demeaned cavalier primary to her lifelong nemesis, hottest cavalier in history to never touch a boob that wasn’t her own. With her stupid, itchy black robes that still smell faintly of Ortus Nigenad’s flop sweat no matter how many times they’re laundered, with her overgrown and uncombed hair all full of cobwebs and bone dust, with her half-melted face paint of a creepy fucking skull not quite concealing her latest acne outbreak. So there’s no fucking way that this isn’t some delightful dream inspired by too many titty mags before bedtime.

Coronabeth’s hand slides down from Gideon’s shoulder, gliding down the length of her arm - trailing over the firm roundness of her deltoid, the jaw-dropping perfection of her biceps, the corded extensor muscles of her forearms - down to seize her calloused hand with her own surprisingly strong one. “I think you deserve something in return. Don’t you?”

Okay. New thought. Maybe Gideon hasn’t passed out, but she’s probably going to if Coronabeth keeps touching her like this.

Gideon nods very carefully, trying not to let any drool drop from her mouth.

Coronabeth’s smile is as bright as Dominicus. She tugs Gideon’s hand and leads her down an unfamiliar hallway. Gideon follows obediently despite her necromancer’s warnings ringing in her head, shrieking at her to trust no one. Well, Gideon figures, if she’s a lamb being led to the slaughter, at least she’ll die happy. A girl’s holding her hand! Flirting with her! Smiling at her! Touching her muscles!

Much to Gideon’s surprise, she is not promptly jumped and flesh magicked to death upon entry to the Third’s quarters. In fact, as far as she can tell, she’s alone in them with Coronabeth. Sure, she had to offer up a bit of blood to the gross ward on the door, but she’s already bleeding a little bit from her adventures in the facility anyway so that’s no biggie.

She’s relieved to note that there are two big, ostentatious beds in addition to the smaller (but no less ostentatious) cavalier bed at the foot of one. If by some miracle she does get laid today, she’d really rather it not be in a bed that Ianthe Tridentarius has also slept or - God forbid - boned in. Coronabeth hustles her past the beds (dang) toward a large and opulent bathroom. “Here, get washed up.”

A fluffy purple towel is thrust into Gideon’s hands, there’s a gentle shove at her shoulders and the click of a door shutting, and suddenly Gideon is alone in the fanciest bathroom she’s ever seen. It’s even more ridiculous than the one in the Ninth’s quarters. She catches her own reflection in the mirror and finds that she looks every inch as confused as she is. “What the fuck?” she mouths to herself.

“I don’t hear washing happening!” comes Coronabeth’s mellifluous voice sing-songing through the door.

Gideon Nav fancies herself a remarkably strong person, the kind of person who could move mountains barehanded if she set her mind to it. Apparently, she has one fatal weakness: a beautiful woman telling her to do, well, literally anything. So Gideon obligingly scours the paint off her face - Harrow’ll be furious, but Harrow’s always furious and her paint’s a mess anyway - and inspects herself once more in the mirror. Sexy. Hot. Gorgeous. Little bit of acne at the hairline and around the left nostril, bit ruddy-cheeked from over-scrubbing, but still a flawless masterpiece of hotness.

She sniffs her armpits. Pretty sweaty. Are chicks into that? If they’re going to bone (please, please, please) then won’t she get sweaty again anyway?

Wait, are they going to bone? They are, right? They’re alone in Corona’s quarters, her terrifying sister and their insufferable cav have clearly been sent away, and Corona’s super hot and bossing her around and dragging her into her bedroom (well, through her bedroom to her bathroom, but still). If this were one of Gideon’s magazines she'd already be up to her wrist, or at least majorly winning at tonsil hockey. This is literally a textbook scenario for boning.

Okay, then. It’s on. So now what? Should she brush her teeth or something? Her breath’s probably pretty rank after the morning she’s had. Should she, like… shave stuff?

“You may draw a bath, if you like,” Corona calls through the door again. “Ianthe and Babs will be gone for hours. And something tells me that you have never been pampered.”

And so Gideon ends up taking the first ever bath of her life in the gilded bathtub of the Third. She can’t bring herself to fill the tub more than a couple of inches, even though from her skin mags and her comics she knows a bath is usually filled until the person in it is all but drowning, or at least until the bubbles are tastefully covering the good bits (comics) or just barely not covering them (skin mags). She does throw in several of the weird perfumy things hanging out around the tub at Corona’s urging. By the end of it, she’s pretty sure she’s dirtier than when she stepped in except that now she’s filthy with scented soaps and salts and glittery “bath bombs” (surprisingly not that violent but also surprisingly messy) instead of sweat and blood. She scrapes and scrubs at herself and then gives her body and her clothes a good shake out in the sonic for good measure. She borrows some toothpaste and uses her finger as a toothbrush, then rinses with borrowed mouthwash.

There’s a fluffy purple and gold robe that smells a bit like Corona’s perfume and seems the right size, so even though it’s a million miles off from her usual aesthetic she consents to shrug it on. It’s impossibly soft and warm and smooth. Stops a bit short on her thighs, but presumably that won’t get any complaints.

When she steps back out into the Third’s quarters, Gideon feels strangely vulnerable without her protective layer of filth. She smells like a stranger, and her fingertips and toes are wrinkled in a weird way that she assumes has to do with the bath bombs or maybe with how hard she was scrubbing. That, or she’s picked up some freaky skin disease from the Third’s bathtub. She hopes she’s not about to die or something.

Corona looks beyond delighted to see her emerge, ruddy and steaming, from the bathing chamber in her ludicrous little bathrobe. It’s a shame that it’s short on the leg coverage and heavy on the arm coverage, since Gideon’s legs are fucking awesome but not nearly as impressive as her guns. She wants to ask what Corona has planned for her now, but her stupid oath to Harrow stays her tongue. If all goes well, Coronabeth might have a better use for her tongue than words, anyway. So instead she stands there trying to look impressive rather than panicky and overstimulated.

“Come here,” Corona beckons with an elegant finger, her eyes glittering like shards of polished amethyst. Gideon’s pretty sure that Corona’s not using any necromantic tricks on her - she knows what that shit feels like by now, and it’s vastly unpleasant - but she follows her gesture as inexorably as if Corona were looping a leash of thanergy around her throat and dragging her closer.

And then Coronabeth Tridentarius is touching her. Like, pretty much everywhere. “Hmmm, let’s see,” she murmurs thoughtfully as she palpates what feels like every trembling inch of Gideon’s being (apart from the good bits, but maybe this is what foreplay is? she’s heard of it, but her magazines usually skip straight to the main event). Instead of trying to think, Gideon focuses on feeling, which is much more in her wheelhouse.

Corona’s nimble fingers carding through her damp red locks (they could stand a trim), fingernails sending tingles through her scalp as they scratch gently against skin that’s never been touched in kindness before. Fingertips trailing down the strong line of her jaw, gently seizing her square chin and turning her face to every possible angle, her gaze as palpable as her fingers. Strong hands (how does the Princess of Ida have actual calluses on her fingers?) testing her muscles, examining her hands and paying particular attention to her fingernails (they could also stand a trim).

“You look good in my robe,” Corona announces, taking a step back and allowing Gideon to breathe for what feels like the first time since she set foot in her quarters. “Gold suits you.” She locks eyes with Gideon and quirks her lips into a subtle smirk. “Gold suits you very well.”

Gideon swallows hard, trying not to gulp audibly and concentrating on not sweating through her borrowed robe.

“Much better than black. Not that you look bad in black, mind you, but there are other colors that would be much more flattering for your lovely complexion.”

She takes Gideon by the hand and leads her over to an over-decorated table that Gideon observes is overflowing with cosmetics. “For example… Hmmm… Plum?” Corona holds up a tube of something that’s a deep, bruised purple, examining its contrast with Gideon’s skin. “Or perhaps mauve…”

Coronabeth is insatiable. Gideon is left exhausted. When she finally emerges from the Third House’s quarters (very much not laid), hours have passed and she feels as if she has run a marathon. Not from any outward exertion, but from the effort of holding still and keeping silent throughout the whole ordeal.

She is perhaps the most sexually frustrated she has ever been in her life, having never been touched by a woman (and what a woman!) so much before, or really at all before unless she counts herself or the shriveled crones of the Ninth.

She is also… well. Made over. Her hair has been combed and styled, and it reeks of hair gel almost as badly as Naberius Tern’s does on an average day. Her nails have been trimmed, filed, and buffed smooth before being painted a soft lilac and accented with shimmering gold. Her face has been rendered utterly unrecognizable; Harrowhark would likely envy the sheer amount of makeup on it if only it were in the design of a skull rather than whatever peacocky nonsense Coronabeth’s done to it. She is, at least, in her own black robes despite Coronabeth’s best efforts to get her to borrow some of Babs’s gaudy frippery.

She suspects she has, in fact, been fucked by the Third after all.

She slinks down the hall as stealthily as she can manage, thanking her lucky stars that her necro is probably half-dead in a bone or buried up to her pointy little goblin ears in ancient books or possibly both rather than being a normal, decent human being who might give a fuck where her cavalier has vanished off to for hours on end with one of her greatest rivals. She’s hoping that everyone else in Canaan House will be equally preoccupied and that she’ll be able to return to the safety of her chambers with her dignity at least partially intact when she rounds a corner and nearly faceplants directly into the solid mass of Camilla the Sixth.

Gideon draws herself up to her fullest and most imposing posture and tries to mask her humiliation as best she can. Camilla observes her cooly, but Gideon swears her fellow cav is just barely holding back a laugh.

After a small but excruciating eternity in limbo, Camilla steps aside to let Gideon dart gratefully past. Camilla casts a few words over her shoulder as Gideon passes, and they follow her burning ears all the way down the hall and back to her quarters: “You look like hell, Nav.”

#prompt fill #prompt fic #ghost writes #prompt ghost #postfuguestate #gideon the ninth #GtN #gideon nav #coronabeth tridentarius #fanfic

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deadlyanddelicate · 4 years

Text

hey did i ever mention that for a few days back in ye olde 2014, before s10 ever aired, i became briefly deeply obsessed with the idea of demon!dean becoming the new cain and recruiting demon!bela to be his second-in-command aka the new abaddon? i even decided i would write a multichapter fic about it but only ever published two chapters because 1) hyperfixation ran out and 2) i really didn’t think the plot through very hard other than “dean and bela being sexy narrative mirrors again except this time they’re Evil and Doing Crime for fun”. and frankly i think that was a good concept if not very well planned out!! sexier than the actual demon!dean arc we got at least!!

ANYWAY i never finished the fic but more importantly i DID make a playlist for it on 8tracks (because those were the cursed pre-spotify days) and while that playlist is also EXTREMELY 2014 i simply refuse to be embarrassed about it bc it DOES have bangers on it, and it’s, to this day, the only spn playlist i have ever made (yes. an au demon!dean and demon!bela playlist. i don’t know either. life is wild y’all). so i’m bringing it back like a ~blast from the past~ (and YES i even made a poorly edited cover and tracklist. what was i gonna do, simply not make a cd leaflet?! it was 2014.) you’re welcome ✨

it’s 2021 babey and you can listen to the playlist here ✨

(but because spotify is ~too cool~ to list dodgy youtube remixes and i want you to have the FULL cheesy 2014 throwback experience, here is the skorge remix of “sail” and here is the glitch mob remix of “seven nation army” )

and because i was a complete floozy for lyrics even 7 years ago... you can find the extended tracklist with significant lyric snippets under the cut. enjoy besties 💕

1. Feral Love // Chelsea Wolfe

Run from the light Your eyes black like an animal Deep in the water

2. Back In Black // AC/DC

Forget the hearse, ‘cause I’ll never die I got nine lives, cat’s eyes, using every one of them and runnin’ wild 'Cause I’m back, yes I’m back, well I’m back, yes I’m back Well I’m back in black, yes I’m back in black

3. Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

Holy water cannot help you now A thousand armies couldn’t keep me out I don’t want your money, I don’t want your crown See, I’ve come to burn your kingdom down

4. Lilith // Susanne Sundfør

As you lie across the table you swear and rhyme You lie across the table, you swear and rhyme Thinking that someone might suit your body

5. Sinister Kid // The Black Keys

I’ve got a tortured mind, and my blade is sharp A bad combination in the dark

6. Heaven Knows // The Pretty Reckless

Oh, Lord, Heaven knows we belong way down below Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below Way down below, way down below

7. Small Pack of Wolves // Ramin Djawadi

(instrumental)

8. You’re Going Down // Sick Puppies

Define your meaning of 'war’ To me it’s what we do when we’re bored I feel the heat comin’ off of the blacktop And it makes me want it more

9. An I For An I // IAMX

Apocalypse and rapture signing in (An eye for an eye) If you’re not with us, you’re against (An eye for an eye)

10. Lose Control // Evanescence

Mary had a lamb, his eyes black as coals If we play very quiet, my lamb, Mary never has to know

11. Hey Man Nice Shot // Filter

Now that the smoke’s gone and the air is all clear Those who were right there got a new kind of fear

12. Sail (Skorge Remix) // Awolnation

Maybe I’m a different breed Maybe I’m not listening (Sail with me into the dark)

13. Addiction // Ramin Djawadi

(instrumental)

14. Animal I Have Become // Three Days Grace

So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become

15. My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark // Fall Out Boy

Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes In the end, everything collides My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

16. Problem // Natalia Kills

We're hell raising and we don’t need saving 'Cause there’s no salvation for a bad girl We’re rock bottom but there ain’t no stopping 'Cause they don’t know nothing about love We're hell raising and we don’t need saving 'Cause there’s no salvation for a bad boy We’re rock bottom but there ain’t no stopping 'Cause it’s you and me against the world

17. Smells Like Teen Spirit // Nirvana

Hello, hello, hello - how low? With the lights out it’s less dangerous Here we are now, entertain us

18. Everybody Wants To Rule The World // Lorde

Welcome to your life: there’s no turning back Even while we sleep we will find you Acting on your best behavior Turn your back on Mother Nature

19. Gotham’s Reckoning // Hans Zimmer

(instrumental)

20. Seven Nation Army (The Glitch Mob Remix) // White Stripes

Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the hounds of Hell

21. Iron // Woodkid

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head The thunder of the drum dictates The rhythm of the falls, the number of deaths

22. Get Lucky // Halestorm

Like the legend of the phoenix All ends with beginnings

23. Bottom Of The River // Delta Rae

The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight (Drunk and driven by a devil’s hunger) Drive your son like a railroad spike (Into the water, let it pull him under) Don’t you lift him, let him drown alive (The good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder)

24. Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm of The War Drums // A Perfect Circle

I’ll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons I’ll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason

25. Animals // Martin Garrix

(instrumental)

26. And The World Was Gone // Snow Ghosts

I wish you’d felt me falling I wish you’d watched over me But I blinked and the world was gone

#i literally have not been on tumblr in days and THIS is what i come back to do #i'd say i'm sorry but i think we all know that would be a lie #spn #dean winchester #bela talbot #demon!dean #demon!bela #playlists #VINTAGE CONTENT ANYONE???#countryboycas #sapphicjo #thank you to jules and erika for enabling me. we went on a JOURNEY today #and by we i mean me and by journey i mean 'dazed stroll down memory lane'#ambra.txt #long post #mp

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fruityutas · 4 years

Text

the devil wears prada

mafia!lee taeyong x female!reader

lowercase intended, not proofread

!this story is a work of fiction and the characters used in it are in NO WAY like this in real life!

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this as i’ve decided to make one

genre: thriller, fluff if you squint hard enough, ANGST

p.2/?

p.1 here

summary: lee taeyong is a cold-blooded mafia leader, not meant to give or receive love. what happens when an innocent bystander turns out to be the most beautiful woman he’s laid eyes on?

✰ warnings: cursing, blood, murder, descriptions of wounds (man does taking nursing classes help with that lmao), violence, toxic relationship, suggestive scenes

—————————————————————

“i'm afraid i can’t let you go, sweetheart.”

“ah, i see you’ve finally finished. please take this brat, i’m getting quite tired of looking after her.” the new man laughed at your captor.

“you take the front seat, Jae. i want to sit with our little friend.” The man that was watching you climbs into the front seat of the van while the new man gets in the back with you. he looks at you for a while before sighing. you try not to make eye contact with him, fearing that if you do he might get angry.

“why did you walk through such a rough part of town so late? i mean, it was like you’re asking to be taken by someone. luckily for you though, i’m not a creepy old man, just a, how do i put it lightly? i’m not a good person for sure, but i don’t kill random people so you’re in the clear on that.” you stay silent and still avoid his eyes. he sighs and scoots a little closer to you. “what’s with the silence, little lamb?” you grimaced at the nickname he gave you. his hand gripped your chin firmly and he brought you to look into his eyes. “answer me.”

“i was studying late and took that route home because all the busses were done running.” he sighs and lets go of your head.

“well, you’re stuck with us until we decide what to do with you.” you let out a shaky breath and scooted away from him, burying your head in your knees. you don’t see it, but the man named taeyong looks at you with pain in his eyes, knowing that you won’t ever be allowed back to your family or home.

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the van’s doors open and you look up and squint at the bright lights of what appears to be a garage, although much bigger than any you’d ever seen.

“get up, you need to get inside so we can all assess what the hell to do with you.” you slowly climb out of the van, and taeyong grips your arms to help you.

“So what is this place exactly?” you ask as you walk with him and the other two original men.

“this is our meeting house. you were probably told who we are by the target that you were initially thrown in with, am i right?” you nod but then shake your head.

“well, he kind of told me. all i know is that you guys are called nct.”

“ah, well he was right about that. i hate i have to introduce myself in this fashion, but i’m this mafia’s leader. my name is taeyong.” you suck in a breath and nod.

“i suppose that means i can’t leave you guys’ sight huh?” taeyong gives you a tight-lipped smile while holding open a door for you. it led to a beautiful kitchen that held two younger men.

“those two are chenle and jisung. they’re the youngest in here, but don’t worry, they’ve never been on actual missions yet. they might be around your age?” they truly looked like kids, barely out of highschool.

“i guess, i’m 20 so probably not though.” taeyong chuckled.

“well you can babysit them sometime, seeing as they are 18.” they both turned to the two of you and looked confused before shrugging and smiling.

“hello, i’m chenle. taeyong, who is this?” this one was slightly shorter than who you assumed to be jisung, and spoke with a loud demeanor, while the latter stayed quiet, staring at the floor rather than looking up to the rest of you.

“this is a special guest, she’s going to be here for a while, so treat her with respect.” taeyong eyes the two boys with a playful glint in his eyes.

“you can call me y/n.” chenle nodded and glanced at taeyong, his lips forming into a smirk at the sight unbeknownst to you. taeyong was looking at you with a warm smile on his lips, one that hadn’t come out from hiding even when johnny was around.

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taeyong had never seen such a beautiful woman before. the pure fear that radiated off of you when he first saw you made taeyong want to take you in so only he could have you. it wasn’t a caring type of want, but a controlling want. taeyong loved to be in control, and you were never exposed to anything like this before, so he knew he could comfort you and form you to be perfect for him. when you clutched onto him in the garage, you only sealed your fate stronger, you weren’t going to slip away so easily now that taeyong wanted you to stay.

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“ah, y/n, can you please help us cook this?” chenle asked with a cute smile. he and jisung had gotten really close with you in the three days you’ve been in the house. they would always ask you to play games or help them make something to eat. you treated them like your little brothers, always being persuaded by their cute pouts.

“of course, what do you need me to do?” you poked your head into the kitchen and smiled. chenle and jisung were both hovering over a bowl of what appeared to be cake batter. “now what in the world are you two doing?” you chuckled at the sight of the two boys struggling to make a cake. they giggled and moved aside so you could take over.

“ah, taeyong, look! y/n is so nice she helps us cook!” you turn halfway looking at taeyong who had entered the room silently, but smiling. he comes over to you and presses against your back slightly while putting a hand on your waist. you blush as he puts his head on your shoulder, giggling in the process.

“you should tell them to cook it themselves so i can take you somewhere else, huh?” taeyong’s sultry voice hit your ears and you almost dropped the whisk when he started to kiss your neck lightly. he chuckled before pulling away, only enough to turn to the others in the room. “hey, you two. i know for a fact that you can cook this together, so why don’t you? i’m taking our lovely y/n for a little while to show her something.” the two boys nodded and giggled mischievously before taking the bowl and stirring the contents perfectly fine. taeyong, without taking his hand off your waist, guided you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. you had never been allowed up there before today, as your bedroom was conveniently located on the main floor of the house, along with chenle, jisung, jeno, jaemin, and renjun’s rooms. they liked to call themselves the ‘dreamies’ but you always shook you head and laughed when they said that. taeyong had told you from the first day not to go up there, because you hadn’t been introduced to the others yet, and they took anyone they didn’t know as a threat. they of course knew of you, but you weren’t exactly well-accepted within them. jaehyun had already established this form the first time you met him, and mark always avoided eye contact when speaking with you.

“wouldn’t you like to know why i’m taking you up here?” taeyong’s teasing voice was like a melody in your ears, a song you could listen to forever. you shrugged and held onto his arm the closer you go to the top of the stairs.

“i’m sure it’s for a good reason, you told me to never come up here.” he turned and smiled at you.

“i actually do have something to show you, but you have to promise to keep quiet when i show you, ok?” you look at him with curiosity written all over your face.

“uh, ok. i won’t be loud or anything.” your mind races with thoughts of what it could be. was he finally going to dispose of you? what if he locks you up somewhere? or what if he killed your family and was about to show you their bodies? you pushed those thoughts out as far as you could, he had been very nice to you and that display of intimacy in the kitchen wasn’t imagined, so why would he hurt you? well, for starters he was a mafia leader. ‘right’ you thought. ‘a deadly and cold-hearted one at that’ you shook your head and looked at his profile while he walked you to the destination. you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous, his strong jawline and pointed nose. the scar beside his large eyes stood out to you the most, where did he get it from?

“i’m assuming you are worried about what i’m about to show you, but it’s not bad, don’t worry.” his voice interrupted your thoughts as you both stopped outside a large door. he opens it and moves to let you in first. you walk in cautiously but relax once you realize that it’s a bedroom, that you assume to be taeyong’s. it’s decorated with very minimalistic items. greys and whites are the main colors, but here and there are little splashes of color. taeyong picks you up and places you on his plush bed before sitting next to you, guiding your face closer to his with his hand. your face is surely red with the closeness of the man in front of you, his beauty captivating. “what i want to show you is something you have to agree on, ok princess?” you nod your head fervently. he smiles and tells you to close your eyes before gently kissing your lips. you don’t hesitate to kiss back, caught up in the feeling of his skin on yours, a fire burning deep in you. when taeyong breaks the kiss you whine at the loss of feeling. you take his face and pull him in for another kiss, and he smiles into it. the only noises in the room being the smack of lips on lips. taeyong takes the lead after a few moments, pushing you gently down on your back while he crawls over you. his hands make their way to the hem of your shirt, tugging up to take it off. you comply by lifting your torso, only breaking the kiss for a second. you do the same to his shirt, and soon all your clothes were off and strewn across the room. “i’m going to pound you into this bed until you’re screaming my name, princess, until everyone in this house knows it’s me making you feel good”

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