#and thanks to anyone who read the first one

[pedroscurls]

welcome to broadway (one-shot)

summary: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 5.4k warnings: dry humping, suggestive smut (sorry - didn't go explicit in this one!), light dirty talk (this also isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!) a/n: to the anon and @sir-thisisadndserver who both requested a story about broadway, i hope you both enjoyed this!!! (ugh, i wish i could watch the music man in good quality bc he just looks so good in it. but also, hugh in oklahoma! has done things to me... my god, his voice, the curls, just everything.) i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman! this is purely fictional.

THE TABLE READ

You can’t believe it. Lead role of Oklahoma for their anniversary showing. Twenty five years later and while mostly everyone came back except the role of Laurey, you were the only odd one out. You knew what this play entailed, knew exactly how it would end. You also knew that you’d be playing alongside Hugh Jackman, who was reprising his role as Curly. 

You’re excited, yet nervous. Hugh Jackman not only was an amazing movie and television actor, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t watch most (if not all) of his shows on Broadway. His sheer talent truly captivated, yet intimidated you. You don’t know how you will be able to act “normal” around him. He isn’t just talented, but he’s also incredibly attractive. Anyone with eyes would be able to see that. 

You’re the first one seated at the table and notice Hugh is set to sit next to you. You keep your eyes focused on the pages in front of you, trying to calm your nerves and get yourself ready to be in character. You can hear people come in, excitement and laughter filtering the room. You take a deep breath and stand up to introduce yourself. You’re taken aback by how welcoming everyone is and it puts you at ease, your nerves slowly beginning to die down. Everyone’s excitement is infectious, making you feel immensely thankful to be part of this cast. 

Your back is turned to the door, talking to one of the cast members that you don’t realize Hugh Jackman has finally arrived. He’s greeting everyone with a large grin and waves and you don’t notice. Not until you feel a soft touch in the middle of your back. Slowly, you turn around and look up, eyes slightly going wide as you stare up at him. 

He’s staring down at you with such a large smile that it literally makes you feel weak in the knees. Yeah, you don’t know how you’re going to get through this play without fawning over him, especially since your character – Laurey – tries to hide her feelings for Curly for the majority of the play. 

“Hello there,” he says softly, hand extending out for you to take. “I don’t think we’ve gotten the chance to meet yet. I’m Hugh.”

You bite your lower lip and extend your own hand, gently sliding it into his and shaking it slowly. “Hi,” you smile shyly and tell him your name. “It’s an honor to share the stage with you. I’ve been a huge fan.” 

Hugh chuckles, his hand soft and light with yours. He releases your hand and keeps his eyes solely focused on you. “I’m a huge fan as well,” he admits. “I’m glad you get to be my Laurey.” 

My Laurey. You feel your heart rate beat ten times faster, heat rising in your cheeks. “And you, my Curly.” 

He lets out a quiet chuckle, hands moving to his pockets. Hugh finds your energy and presence very calming and despite this being your first ever time on Broadway, he has to commend you for being professional. Though, he can see the excitement that flickers in your eyes. He knows that look, has even donned that same look every time he got on stage. “So, I hear this is your first time?” 

“On Broadway, yeah. Do I seem too nervous?” you laugh, biting your lower lip. “Because if I do, it’s because I am. I’m trying to keep it cool, but to be in a room with all of you? I just can’t believe it. I don’t want to mess up.” 

Hugh’s eyes softened. “Eh, we’re just a group of people who love to perform, including you. We’re all gonna make mistakes along the way, even on opening night, but as long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

You’ve heard stories of Hugh – how he puts people at ease, looks out for everyone in the cast and crew, and right now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. You suddenly feel your nerves disappear under his gaze and for once since finding out that you’d be playing the lead role of Laurey, you feel immense excitement. You’ve never been one to be shy on stage, but knowing that you’d be the new person in this cast instilled anxiety in you. They’ve done this before. They’ve played these same roles. And ultimately, you didn’t want to disappoint any of them.

“Thank you,” you finally reply. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.” 

“Well, if you never need more reassurance, I’m your man.” he winks. 

The theater director calls everyone’s attention, making a short speech at how it’s great to be back and how amazing of a show you were all going to have. You look around the room, seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces before you finally look up at Hugh. You’re surprised because he’s already looking down at you, giving you a reassuring nod as you feel his hand brush against yours. 

The subtle action grounds you, settles the nerves that begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You feel a sudden calmness wash over you as you take a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from him when you hear your name being called. 

“And we have our Laurey,” your theater director says, everyone clapping and cheering for you. “Welcome,” he says with a grin. “We’re lucky to have you.” 

You smile in his direction, nodding at everyone else in the room. “Glad to be part of this amazing cast,” you reply, everyone continuing to clap before it begins to slow down. 

“And our Curly,” the theater director continues, nodding towards the man standing next to you. “We’re all so excited that you’re here to reprise your role. It’s gonna be a great show.”

Once the theater director finishes his speech, everyone in the room takes their respective seats. Hugh pulls out your chair for you and you smile up at him, sitting down as he pushes it in for you. 

“Thank you,” you tell him.

“Anytime,” he winks. 

—

Throughout the table read, you finally feel at ease, comfortable in your element as you change your accent to reflect your character’s. Hugh changes his own and how lucky of you to get a front seat of his skill and talent. He turns to you, saying his lines at the beginning of the play. “On'y she talked so mean to me a while back, Aunt Eller, I'm a good mind not to take her.”

He’s staring at you with a charming smile, leaning back against his seat with his eyes staring into yours. 

You then say your line, rolling your eyes with your arms crossed over your chest. “Ain't said I was goin'!” 

Hugh then says his line almost immediately, “Ain't ast you!”

There’s a silence that engulfs the entire room as you two stare at each other. He’s still staring at you with a big grin and you with a frown on your face and eyes narrowed. You’re surprised at how much chemistry you already have with him, how easy it is to slip into the role of Laurey and exchange lines with him without any issue. 

As the table read continues, you can’t help but take notice of Hugh’s presence next to you. The scene where you kiss approaches and you know that it isn’t going to happen here, today, but to know that you will eventually have to kiss him makes you nervous, but also very excited. 

By the time the table read ends, a few hours have passed and everyone claps. The theater director dismisses all of you, saying that rehearsals will begin next week. You begin to pack your things before you feel Hugh gently reach a hand out to rest over your forearm. 

“You did great,” he says. “And to think you were nervous?” 

“I was,” you laugh quietly. “But I guess you helped ease my nerves.”

“I did, huh?” he smiles proudly. “Well, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.” 

You shake your head, standing up from the table and seeing him follow suit. “I was wondering–”

“Do you think we should–” 

You both say simultaneously, both letting out a quiet laugh. “You first,” you tell him, gazing up at him. 

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck nervously. “Would you be okay with exchanging numbers? We can go over lines sometime when we’re not in rehearsal to get more practice in.”

You’re trying to contain your excitement, trying to remain calm and collected, so you give him a nod and then reach for your phone. “I was thinking the same thing. Here,” you hand him your phone and see him give you his. “Maybe we can meet up for coffee later this week?” 

Hugh smiles, typing in his number into your phone. “That’d be great. I know a perfect place.” 

You smile to yourself and type in your number before handing his phone back to him and taking your phone from him. “Perfect,” you respond, putting your phone back into your bag. “And if I get nervous at all–”

“Feel free to text me. Or call me.” Hugh finishes for you. “Like I said, I’m your man.” 

“Thanks, Curly,” you grin, changing your accent to reflect Laurey. “That’s mighty kind’a you.” 

Hugh chuckles, his eyes twinkling in the light as he smiles down at you. “Anythin’ for ya, Laurey.” 

—

REHEARSALS

The rehearsals have become more frequent as the date of opening night looms closer. You and Hugh have spent so much time together outside of rehearsals, either you coming by to his place or him coming to yours. Your relationship with him has blossomed in the span of a few months, feeling much more comfortable and confident around him. The more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself catching feelings for him. You wonder if it’s because of the nature of the role you’re playing, being the love interest of his and the fact that you both have rehearsed the kiss and dances multiple times. 

Though, you can’t help but notice the frequent texts and calls from him that have nothing to do with the play, or the way he lingers around you, some part of him always needing to touch you – on your lower back, between your shoulder blades, your hand. It all seems innocent enough, but with each touch, with each lingering gaze, you feel more and more attracted to the possibility that maybe the feelings are mutual.

Today, it’s only you and Hugh in rehearsals, practicing the dance in the dream sequence. You’ve both gone over the dance plenty of times today, both drenched in sweat. You take a short break, sitting down on the floor as your back rests against the wall. You take a long swig of water before Hugh takes a seat next to you, his side flush against yours. 

“Hey you,” he says, smiling in your direction. “You really know how to push me,” Hugh chuckles. “And I thought I was the hardest worker. You definitely make me look like I’m not doing enough,” he teases. 

You roll your eyes, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “Oh please, I’m only pushing you because you’re pushing me.” 

“What do you say?” Hugh asks. “One more rehearsal and we call it a night? Grab a bite to eat at my place?” 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh in relief. “I’d have kept going if you hadn’t said anything.” 

Hugh chuckles, moving an arm around your shoulders as you lean into him. “You know, you can tell me to slow down. I don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

“I know,” you reply. “I just wanna prove to you and everyone else that I’m meant to be here.”

Hugh tilts his head. “You are meant to be here. You’ve got a lot of talent,” he says your name, eyes gazing into yours. “And this is just the beginning for you.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see after opening night,” you chuckle. 

“Not only are you talented,” Hugh says. “But you also love being on stage. Everyone can see it, can feel it. The audience will too. Now, get off your ass and let’s finish this dance.” He smiles, standing up and reaching out for you. 

You chuckle, taking his hands and standing up with his help. Your hands immediately dart out to rest on his shoulders, bodies flush against each other as your nose brushes against his. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For always reassuring me. I’m sure it’s exhausting.”

Hugh’s eyes never leave yours as one hand moves to rest on your lower back and the other takes your hand in his. “Not exhausting at all, baby,” he replies, his breath fanning over your lips. 

You clear your throat at the pet name, biting your lower lip as the music begins to play. You take a deep breath, trying to snap out of the trance that he put you in to focus on the dance sequence. Your gaze never leaves his as you both move across the dance floor. It was that specific moment where you were sure that he felt the same way. 

—

After rehearsals, you drive to Hugh’s place and see him step out of his car with a box of pizza. He leads you inside and walks into the kitchen, sitting at the table. You walk over to him and sit next to him, inhaling the aroma of food once he opens the box. 

“God, I feel like I can eat this whole thing,” you chuckle, taking a slice of pizza and lifting it to your lips. You’ve always felt comfortable around Hugh and you have to wonder if it’s because of him, how calm and grounded he makes you feel. You’re continuing to eat, eyes falling shut as you sway your body in the seat, just happy to be eating something. 

Hugh watches you with a loving gaze, eyes scanning your face as he stares at you. He certainly didn’t expect you to come into his life the way you did. It’s no secret that he gets along with everyone and has chemistry with every leading lady in his roles, but you… You’re a completely different story. He finds your passion to perform refreshing and your talent invigorating. Not only are you professional, but he appreciates your ability to put your all into each performance, even though it’s only rehearsal. It gets him excited to know that come opening night, everyone will know just how talented you are. 

He’s taken out of his thoughts when he sees you open your eyes, looking at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Hugh smiles, eyes lowering to your lips as he sees pizza sauce at the corner of your lips. He also loves the fact that you’re not shy around him. He reaches up and wipes the pizza sauce from your lips with the pad of your thumb, staring into your eyes. “You’re a messy eater when you’re hungry.” 

The heat in your cheeks rises once again as you set the pizza slice down to grab a napkin, wiping your mouth. “You should have fed me during our break earlier.” 

Hugh chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough.” He doesn’t break the gaze, bringing the pad of his thumb to his lips and licking the pizza sauce from it. He sees your eyes dip down to his lips, hearing you quietly clear your throat as you bite your lower lip. 

“You’re cute, you know that?” Hugh blurts out, head tilting as he stares into your eyes. 

You roll your eyes and gently reach out to shove his shoulder. “Yeah right.”

Hugh chuckles, leaning forward in your space. “You are,” he whispers. “And there’s just something about you. I can’t put my finger on it…”

“Hmm…” you say quietly, eyes continuously darting to his lips. “Hugh…”

“Yeah, baby?” he says lowly. 

“Is this–” you whisper. “Is this appropriate?” 

Hugh then leans back, shrugging a shoulder. “Probably not,” he admits. “But I can’t be the only one who feels something between us…”

You look up at him, wanting to reach out for him, to pull him back closer, but you don’t. You’ve wanted him for months now, wanted this moment to happen for so long, but you couldn’t. You just didn’t know how things would change if you were both to cross that boundary… Even though you’ve both probably crossed so many lines already. 

“You aren’t,” you admit. “I want this just as badly as you, but–”

“Not yet,” he finishes for you. “After the play.”

You nod. “I just don’t know what’d happen if we do this while we’re still in production… I’ve waited for a few months, another few won’t hurt, right?”

Hugh bites his lower lip and shrugs. “Might hurt me,” he teases. “I mean, we’ve kissed already as Curly and Laurey. But I’d love to just kiss you as… As me.” 

“A kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you say quietly, slowly leaning into him. “But that’s all we can do.” 

Hugh nods and stands up from the chair to pull you up into him. The lights from the city reflect off his large windows as his hand rests on your lower back and the other on your cheek. Slowly, he leans in and brushes the tip of his nose against yours. 

“If we do this,” he whispers lowly. “There’s no going back.” 

“Fine with me,” you answer. “Now kiss me already.” 

Hugh grins and then presses his lips against yours, fingertips resting on the back of your neck. You’ve both kissed so many times already, but this time feels so much more different. Your lips move against his own, hands moving to grip his arms. Hugh walks you back into his window, feeling the glass press against your back as his hand moves from your lower back to your hip. Your lips part for him and he slides his tongue past your lips, hearing you whimper as a result. 

The kiss deepens as tongues get involved, lips moving with more urgency against one another. You’re about to bring your leg up to hook around his hip, but you stop yourself, moving your hands to his chest and slowly pulling him away. Breathless and panting. 

Hugh rests his forehead against yours, eyes remaining shut. “I’d say that was a great real first kiss,” he laughs quietly. 

“Waiting for a few more months might prove to be tough,” you admit, moving your hands into his hair and tangling your fingers into his locks. 

Hugh chuckles and pecks your lips softly, pulling back to look down at you. “Maybe we don’t go the full distance… yet.” 

“What do you have in mind?” you ask, biting your lower lip as you stare up at him with desire filled in your orbs. 

“Come on.” Hugh takes your hand and leads you to his couch, sitting down against it and pulling you down onto him. You straddle his hips, clearing your throat as you feel his manhood press against your core. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips, leaning his head up slightly to capture your lips once more. 

“This okay?” he mumbles against your lips.

“More than okay,” you answer, beginning to move your lips with his. Without hesitation, you roll your hips against his own. You’re wearing leggings and he’s wearing sweatpants and while the fabric isn’t as thick as jeans, it’s still too much clothing for you because you need to feel more. You need to feel all of him. 

Hugh groans against your lips, feeling his manhood begin to stir awake at the friction. His hands slowly move upwards, underneath your shirt as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your skin. He leans up to gently bite at your lower lip, your moan escaping your lips. 

You apply more pressure when your hips roll against his, his length hardening and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. You feel a wetness pool between your legs, an anticipation settling into the pit of your stomach. You don’t know how you would wait another few months before fully feeling him inside of you since this sneak peek wasn’t helping. Instead, you’re yearning for more.

Hugh pulls away from the kiss only to place gentle kisses along your jawline, his hands continuing to move up your back, his fingertips brushing against your sports bra and back down to your lower back. The pressure in his pants tighten and he wants nothing more than to rip your leggings off your legs and slam into you, but he has to show some restraint.

You tilt your head slightly for him, exposing more of your neck as you feel his lips and his scruff brush against one of your many hot spots. You whimper, your hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hugh,” you moan quietly. When you feel his teeth graze your skin, you have to pull back to look down at him. Your chest is heaving and you’re almost breathless. “Mmm, if we don’t stop,” you whisper. “I won’t be able to control what will happen next.” 

Hugh smirks, licking his lips slowly. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let me just…” Hugh gently sets you down next to him, readjusting himself in his sweatpants and the action doesn’t go unnoticed. You can see the obvious tent in his pants and his hand grasping himself to adjust his hardening length into a much more comfortable position. You can see the outline of his manhood, feeling your throat go dry at the sight. He’s long and thick and you have to peel your eyes away from him to avoid just settling yourself on your knees between his legs. 

Hugh watches you, eyes taking in your frame from top to bottom. It doesn’t help lessen the pressure in his pants because it only just makes him harder. “I’m actually going to…” he begins, pointing down to the center of his sweatpants. “I’m gonna take care of this. Will you be okay for a bit?” 

You clear your throat. The thought of being under the same roof as Hugh as he’s jerking himself off to the thought of you excites you. “Y— Yeah, I’ll be, um…” you bite your lower lip. “I’ll be here.” 

Hugh nods and then leans over to kiss your cheek, lips brushing against your ear. “If I had it my way, you’d be the one helping me take care of this.”

You shiver against his words and look up at him. “And if I had it my way, I’d drop to my knees in front of you to take care of it.”

Hugh growls, the sight of you on your knees now fully ingrained in his mind. “Great,” he chuckles. “I’m gonna keep that in mind while I…” he points towards his lower half. “While I handle this.” Hugh then stands up from the couch and excuses himself to go to the bathroom, allowing you to lie down on the couch and letting out an exasperated sigh. 

“It’s gonna be a long few months,” you mutter to yourself.

—

OPENING NIGHT

You feel the nerves begin to build as you’re all getting ready to perform for opening night. You and the rest of the cast and crew are all ready to perform, but you… You’re anxious. You’re nervous. You’re afraid that you’re going to mess up, so when Hugh rests a hand on your lower back, you look up at him with a tense look on your face. 

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he whispers. “Just have fun.”

You nod, feeling his hand drop from your lower back and you reach for it, giving it a tight squeeze. “Okay,” you say. “Just have fun,” you repeat. 

“Exactly. Let’s have a great show, yeah?” Hugh reassures. “And after this,” he whispers, lowering enough so that his lips hover against your ear. “We can finally go back to my place and take the next step.” 

That makes you stand straighter. You had been so focused on making sure that your performance was perfect as opening night approaches that you and Hugh hadn’t had an intense, passion-filled night since the night you had your first kiss with him. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as he pulls away with a wink. “You know just the right things to say,” you chuckle. 

Hugh grins. “I knew that’d get you excited.” 

You feel your nerves begin to settle as the curtain begins to rise, knowing that Hugh’s character begins the play with a song Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’. 

Throughout the play, you feel at ease once you step on stage, easily slipping into character. The back and forth banter between your character and Hugh’s are filled with a hidden and unspoken passion that you have for each other. Despite the roles you’re both playing, you can feel the tension and excitement bubbling within you as the play continues. 

Just another hour and then you and Hugh can finally have the moment you both were waiting for. 

Your first time on Broadway proves to be more than what you expected and you love it. Being on stage, under the bright lights, with a cast and crew that has the same excitement and passion as you makes you aware of the fact that this is truly where you’re meant to be. You couldn’t believe that you had questioned yourself at the beginning of all of this. 

After the scene where Laurey fires Jud, you know what’s coming. The kiss with Curly, followed by the marriage proposal. Once your lips touch Hugh’s, it’s filled with so much passion and relief. Part of you has to wonder if it’s because the characters, Curly and Laurey, finally admitting the love they have for each other, or if it’s because the end of the play is nearing. 

And it isn’t until you pull away that you see a fleeting familiarity flicker in Hugh’s eyes, a grin lining his lips. Throughout the next scenes, you’re both side by side, basked in the joy of being newlyweds and you know there’s a scene where Hugh is shirtless with suspenders. You are both backstage, getting ready for the next scene as you see him flex his arms subconsciously. 

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but right now, there’s something about the sight that makes an immediate wetness pool between your legs. When Hugh looks over at you, he gives you a wink, knowing exactly that you were just checking him out. 

Throughout the rest of the play, as it nears the end, you can’t help the excitement that bubbles within you. It isn’t until the end of the play that Hugh’s touch becomes more urgent, like he’s just as ready to leave with you. Each person with a pivotal role is introduced at the end as they bow towards the audience. 

However, it isn’t until your name is called that the entire audience’s cheers become much louder. You walk towards the edge of the stage and bow, smiling and waving as they give you a standing ovation. You look back at your cast, back at Hugh, who all are clapping for you. 

It was a perfect night and you know it’s only beginning. 

—

You and Hugh join the rest of the cast for a celebratory after party, having changed into much more comfortable clothing. You’re both at other ends of the room, but while you’re each in a conversation with someone else, your gaze is locked on one another. 

It isn’t a secret that you’re attracted to each other, but tonight, it’s completely obvious. Hugh’s eyes move along your frame slowly and under his gaze – even from afar – it excites you. You look at the time, knowing that it’s already so late and you’re ready to leave. With Hugh. 

You make your rounds, saying goodbye to everyone until you reach Hugh. He excuses himself from the person he was speaking to and meets you halfway, eyes filled with anticipation. 

“I’m heading out,” you say softly. 

“Meet at my place?” Hugh asks.

You bite your lower lip and nod. “I’ll see you there.”

Hugh then reaches out for his phone and sends you a text. You pull out your phone and see a four digit number, furrowing a brow in confusion. “What’s this?”

“The code to get into my place,” Hugh confirms. “If you get there before me, feel free to let yourself in.”

You smile to yourself and then reach up to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “It was a great night, Curly.” 

Hugh’s arm tightens around your frame as he shuts his eyes, whispering into your ear. “And it’s only just starting, Laurey.” He pulls back and kisses your cheek, lingering for a moment before he pulls away completely. “I’ll see you in a bit, baby.” 

You leave the party and make your way to your car, anticipation simmering in your depths. You drive to Hugh’s house, knowing that you’d get there before him. So, when you enter the four digit code the gave you, you see the gates open and you drive into his driveway, the garage opening up for you. 

Just a few minutes after you park, Hugh pulls in behind you. You step out of your car and look over at him, seeing him turn off the headlights once he puts his car in park. He climbs out and strides over to you, arms wrapping around your waist immediately. Without allowing you to speak, he dips down and presses his lips against yours, moving them eagerly against yours. 

“Mmm,” you whimper, feeling his hand move to your backside as he gently squeezes it into his hand. 

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbles, pulling back to look down at you. “I’ve been waiting for months for this,” Hugh chuckles. 

You nod and take his hand, following him inside his home. You don’t get far because you lead him to his living room where you push him back onto his couch and you straddle his hips like the first night you shared your first real kiss with him. 

He doesn’t waste any time in removing your shirt though, growling at the sight of you completely exposed for him, having decided on not wearing a bra. Hugh feels drunk off of you, his mind swirling with the immense thoughts and ideas of what he wants to do to you tonight. He knows he won’t get a chance to do them all in one night, but he just isn’t sure what to do first. He wants to taste you, wants to be head first between your legs. But he also wants to feel your walls wrapped around him, milking him to his own release. 

But your moans… your moans pull him out of his thoughts and he’s suddenly very aware of the look on your face. The heat in your cheeks. Your parted lips. Your breaths coming in short pants. You want this just as bad as he does and it only excites him further. 

“You did amazing tonight, baby,” Hugh says softly, hands coming up to brush against you. 

You whimper, looking deeply into his eyes. “Thank you,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering as his thumbs brush against your peaks. “Hugh…” you moan quietly. 

“I know, baby. I know… Let me take care of you.” 

Throughout that night, you barely got any sleep, but when you did, you were completely spent. Hugh had helped you reach your climax more times than you can count and that had never happened before. He was so generous, so considerate, but it was only because he yearned for the sounds that escaped your lips. Loved to see you squirm against his touch, enjoyed the sight of your eyes fluttering when he finally entered you. 

Hugh knew he wanted more. Needed more. He felt like a possessed man once he finally got that first taste of you. You unleashed something almost animalistic in him – the desire to see you come undone. The first time it happened that night, Hugh was in absolute awe. The way you arched your back, lips apart, body squirming against his mattress and a loud moan escaping your lips… it made Hugh want more of that. Want more of you. 

And he was certainly going to get it, that he was sure of.

[covidsafecosplay]

Do you have any general advice about being Covid safe at conventions? I've been under the impression that visiting any con, big or small, masked or not, immunocompromised or not, is a big no-no, since it's a place where several people gather indoors.

I, personally, will not go to cons right now, and it's a big part of why this blog exists in the first place.

I live in a household of disabled people, one of whom has a respiratory disease, and it's just not worth the risk to any of us. We are 100% avoiding anything with crowds. We don't even go to the grocery store if we can avoid it, and thank our lucky stars we live somewhere that we can access reasonably-priced grocery delivery. People call us paranoid, but none of us have gotten covid once, so I have no real desire to change what we're doing.

Every time I think, "hm, local covid numbers are dropping, maybe I can go to something" there's another spike in infections, so I've just kind of...given up. I used to perform at the local medieval faire, my husband used to do burlesque, and my entire household was generally really big into the local performing arts scene. We gave up trying to participate in anything when it became clear nobody was interested in hosting or attending virtual events anymore.

That said, I know "everybody please just stop going to cons" isn't exactly an effective covid safety policy. The "get back to normal" urge is strong, and as much as it pisses me off, people are going to do what they're going to do. I also know multiple people who pretty much have to go to cons because their income depends on artist alley profits, or they're employed in the industry and have to make con appearances as part of their job. Cons are back in full-swing, for better or worse.

For those who have to go to cons, or just really, really want to and can't be swayed, I recommend reading through the People's CDC's Safer In-Person Gatherings Guide. It was originally published in 2022, but the information is good. It covers things that event organizers can do to make events accessible, as well as personal safety precautions attendees should take.

If someone is going to attend a con, they need to:

Check if the venue has upgraded ventilation and covid policies in place (if possible). If the venue has poor ventilation and nobody else is going to give a shit whether you catch covid, maybe reconsider attending that particular event.

Mask up using a properly-fitted, NIOSH-certified N95 or better for the entirety of the event. Wear it properly over the mouth and nose.

Avoid crowded indoor areas as much as possible, sticking to smaller groups in outdoor areas where available.

Stick to small, consistent groups you can contact after the event in case of exposure, instead of mingling in large crowds of strangers.

Get vaccinated and boosted in advance of the event.

Avoid high-risk activities for at least five days prior to the event.

Complete a daily symptom checklist leading up to the event.

Take a covid test the day of the event to ensure covid-free status.

Complete a daily symptom checklist for five days after the event. Test immediately if any symptoms present.

Take a covid test five days after the event, even if no symptoms present. Asymptomatic transmission is still possible.

If testing positive for covid, alert other attendees so they can get tested.

All this info is taken from the People's CDC link, which has become my go-to covid information resource. I and this blog are totally unaffiliated with them, but following their guidelines has helped keep my family 100% covid-free for the entire duration of the pandemic.

If anyone needs inspiration for covid-safe cosplay activities outside the convention scene, or ideas for making your covid mask match your cosplay, I have a post about that here. I also have a post with links to free mask patterns and tutorials here.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sink or Swim (NSFW)

AN: Joe girlies I have returned!

Synopsis: After the devastating loss to the Commanders, you knew that a bad mood would be evident with your boyfriend. So his idea of forgetting what happened at least for a few hours has to do with giving you his undivided attention

Requested by @a-moment-captured 💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

There was a look of disbelief on your face as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and saw that the game was almost over when the two minute warning was indicated. The first two weeks in the season obviously had your boyfriend Joe upset and for good reason. But to see the high hopes that he had going into week three just get shot down hurt to watch.

On the sidelines you could see his helmet being thrown as he eventually sat down and the expression on his face was one that you couldn't quite read.

Pulling out your phone, you sent him a quick text knowing that he would read it when he got back to the locker room.

You- Still so proud of you bubs. You played amazing tonight and don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💕

Sighing to yourself, you stood up and began to make your exit out of the stadium to start making your way back to Joe’s condo. It was discussed earlier in the day when you had talked to Joe that you would come over right after the game in anticipation of celebrating with him, but now you weren't so sure if he would even want to be in the mood to have anyone around him right now. After he lost a game, he would understandably get into a mood but you had a feeling that tonight would be a lot worse and more than likely because of who he is, he would be blaming himself.

Climbing into your jeep, you had the radio on a low volume as you pulled out of the stadium parking lot and onto the highway. Joe didn't live very far from the stadium which you were thankful for and leaving before the game was over allowed you to beat some of the traffic that you knew would quickly come after.

Arriving in less than twenty minutes, you turned your car off before grabbing your bag and making your way inside. Your shoes got slipped off at the door as you made your way into the kitchen to find something to snack on since the mozzarella sticks you had at the game were only going to last you but so long.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed it wasn't too late to order a pizza seeing as Joe probably needed some comfort food. You opened up your DoorDash app and quickly ordered it while you waited for Joe to get there. Another 45 minutes had passed with the pizza being kept warm in the oven and you sitting on the couch re-watching Scandal when you heard his key in the door. Once it was opened, it was quickly slammed shut making you jump and the sound was quickly followed by him throwing his bag on the floor at his feet and hearing him sigh.

Still in your jersey from the game that had your boyfriend's name on the back of it, you got up to greet him by the door. His expression was still unreadable when you stood in front of him and slowly tried to take his hands into yours, but he moved away at the last second.

“Bubs….”

Joe didn’t even bother to respond to you as his eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the door.

“What do you need me to do?” You softly asked as you kissed the side of his mouth, trying to get an answer out of him.

When he finally opened his eyes and glanced down at you, his eyes had softened but only slightly as he saw the love of his life in front of him.

“Get upstairs and strip.”

“Mm, gladly. Your wish is my command.”

Nodding your head towards him, he then turned you around to face the stairs as you slowly walked over towards them. Your foot was on the first step when you heard his voice once more.

“You have two minutes to do what I told you, so I suggest you get a move on before I put you there myself.”

Hearing this made a river form in between your thighs and you loved how dominant he could get when the two of you were by yourselves. That happened to be the only good thing that would come out of him losing a game. If this is what he needed to help him get through it, the last thing that you were ever going to do was complain.

Reaching the last step, you still heard him moving around downstairs before you swung the door open to his bedroom which had been left ajar before he left for the game earlier.

Your clothes were then taken off slowly one by one in the hopes of Joe walking in and seeing you. Your shoes had already been thrown off at the door downstairs, the next thing to come off was your jeans that hugged your curves that he loved so much. Next was his jersey and the shirt that you were wearing underneath it in case you got cold. You had started to take off your bra next when you suddenly felt him behind you making you jump. You hadn’t heard him come in as he wrapped his arms around you before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought I told you to strip? So, why are you still wearing clothes? You like disobeying me?” He asked you before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“No, I was….”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. Do as you’re told the first time so I don’t have to punish you. Now get the rest of those clothes off.” He told you as a light smack was felt across your ass.

You nodded your head and your bra as well as your black thong were quickly removed from your body and discarded onto the floor all while Joe was standing behind you watching you intensely. Once you were finished, he leaned down to your ear once more before he reached around to put two of his fingers up to your mouth that you slowly started to suck on before reaching down and rubbing small circles along your clit making you gasp.

“Mmm, look how wet my baby is. This all for me?” You nodded your head to answer his question because you knew that words were going to fail to come out of your mouth.

“Get on the bed and you better not make a sound unless I fucking tell you to. Face down, ass up.”

Walking over to the bed once Joe moved his fingers away from your core, you slowly got on the bed with the help of him since the bed was so high and crawled to the top of it as you rested your head down on your arms with your ass sticking high up in the air on display for him.

You could hear Joe behind you doing away with his clothes and in a matter of seconds you felt him crawl onto the bed and roughly grab a hold of your hips before slowly entering you and bottoming out as he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

It took everything in you not to let out a gasp and simply put your hand over your mouth as you felt him move out of you before he slammed back in.

His movements were intense and sloppy of course with him letting out his frustrations as you were doing your best to keep quiet. The more he pounded into you, the harder it was becoming and knew that being quiet would only last but so long.

You could feel yourself getting closer to reaching your peak and you soon felt Joe reach underneath of you to massage your clit as he continued to pound into you. This sent you over the edge and you couldn’t help but to let out a small moan but immediately put your hand back over your mouth. But the damage was already done and you tug knew that you would soon be in for it.

“Oooh fuck.”

Hearing this, Joe immediately flipped you over and a hand immediately went around your neck with him squeezing it.

“Did I tell you to fucking speak? I don’t think I did.”

You remained quiet as he let go of your neck as he trailed kisses along it and down your chest with him placing one of your nipples into his mouth as he was rolling the other one between his fingers. It was taking everything in you to stay quiet as your back arched up off of the mattress. His fingers moved on from playing with your nipple to insert two of them into you as he continued to suck on the other one.

Joe noticed that you were squirming and he took it as a sign that you were close and probably frustrated because he told you not to say anything.

“You close baby? I can tell.”

To answer him, you nodded your head as he added another finger making you gasp. His fingers were pumping in and out of you when he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue knowing that it was a matter of seconds before you would come undone in front of him.

“Shiiit!” You couldn’t help but to let out as your hands were directly to his hair to pull him closer to you.

At this point, your legs were wrapped around his neck as he began to suck on your clit making them shake the harder that he did.

“Baby…. I’m….” You started to say, but without warning a gush of liquid was now covering Joe’s face as he was still sucking on your clit making you squirm.

“That’s my good girl. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You immediately shook your head no, but it was clear that Joe didn’t care since he went right back to sucking on your clit. After you squirted all over his face once more, he quickly crawled back up your body as he inserted himself into you.

His movements were more sloppy than before indicating that he was close as he put your legs onto his shoulders as you began to rub your clit.

You had reached your peak for the third time when you felt Joe slide out of you. Knowing what that meant, you immediately sat up and took him in your mouth as you tasted his cum hitting the back of your throat.

“That’s my pretty girl. You better swallow it and not waste a drop.”

Joe had now put your hair in a makeshift ponytail to get it out of the way since he remembered you one time promptly yelling at him when his cum had gotten in your hair after you had gotten it done just hours before.

Once you swallowed everything that didn’t leak out the side of your mouth, you promptly opened it to show Joe who then leaned down to place several kisses on your lips. Once you had laid back, Joe quickly followed suit with him laying on you as you held him tightly to your chest. It was quiet for a few minutes as both of you were trying to even your breathing when he finally spoke.

“We should have won.”

“I know.”

“And even though it wasn’t my fucking fault, I’m going to get the blame for it.”

“I know.”

“We’re 0 and 3 now and I don’t know what to fucking do.”

“The only thing you can do is to go out there and do your best. You played absolutely amazing tonight so this isn’t on you in the slightest even though people will put it on you anyway. I am still so proud of you and I’m always going to be proud of you.” You told him as you placed a kiss on top of his head.

“Proud of a loser boyfriend who can’t win an NFL game?”

“Joseph… talk about yourself like that again. I dare you. Just because you have a few setbacks doesn’t mean that it’s going to be like this forever. I will let you rant all you want tonight, but tomorrow I’m not having it. You are literally the highest paid quarterback in the NFL and you need to fucking act like it.”

“I... guess you’re right.”

“I know I'm right. It's only been three weeks. There's still time to turn this around for the better and I promise to be here through all of it. But did I perform my duties as your girlfriend to help you let your frustrations out?” You asked and he immediately smirked.

“You did more than help me through it, but I definitely didn't say that we were done.” He told you as he picked his head up off of your chest to look at you.

“Wait, what?”

“Switch places with me so you can ride me.”

Taglist

@a-moment-captured

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@wickedfun9

@dandelionwrites8

@keiva1000

[neechees]

https://www.tumblr.com/baconvonmoose/762184790376136704/thank-you-look-i-know-people-mean-well-i-do-im?source=share

Reading all this and that's the first time ever I've seen someone say this about W*nd***.

Thought to bring this to your attention

I've always said that you'll get differing opinions about the Ice Cannibal because different groups might have differing opinions & protocol on the spirit on who can or can't say it or when, and like I've always specified I prefer it when people dont say it around ME.

But I'm kind of suspicious about this random user coming and saying "well I'm Native American" because of the way they're speaking. They say they're "a subdivision of the Algonquin" like there's no "subdivision" of the Algonquin UNLESS they're claiming to be of the Algonquin TRIBE and trying to talk about their specific community, but they don't specify it, and they seem to be equating Algonquin with Algonquian (a Language FAMILY), which is something a lot of Moniyawak & pretendians do.

Also, there's no "my tribe told the first version of the wend!g0 myth" like they claim they are, because again, multiple tribes believe in this spirit, and it'd be stupid & unfair to try claim authority on it for "the first" because we don't know who was "the first".

This user also claims that "it's a spirit that can possess people so it can look like anyone you know", I've talked with other ndns about this and there's even some debate over whether this "possession" thing is even true, at least for some tribes, because settlers were using this excuse to go and execute multiple Native people under the premise that they were "possessed" by a cannibal spirit (and how often do you think White people back then gave a shit about our spiritualities?). In many tribes, including mine, I know the ice cannibal is a spirit that exists in its own right but that also humans can turn into one.

This person is just acting like a jackass and doesn't seem to hang around other actual Native Americans who believe in our religions, because of the way they're talking, but want to act like an authority on our spiritualites. They don't even want to acknowledge that maybe they heard the "we don't say it" variation because of different beliefs in different tribes. Them calling everything I just mentioned fucking "misinformation" is itself misinformation, and completely fucking unfair of them. And the ice cannibal spirit isn't even the only spirit we do this with. We don't just avoid saying its name out of fear, it's also out of respect and protocol.

I've also never seen this person on ndn tumblr, & they don't seem to have an "ndn" tag. This might be a case of a White person suddenly claiming Native heritage to get in on a conversation that isn't theirs to have. With the way they're acting, talking about Native spirituality, etc, this sounds more like a White person with maybe some Native ancestry who doesn't actually hang around other ndns just trying to be an authority on something they have no fucking clue on & that they got all their information from white websites, because virtually everything they said was wrong.

[naturesapphic]

idk if you’d wanna do this or not but could you potentially write something fluffy with Billie and a gf who feels dumb all the time because she’s dyslexic and billie helps her and comforts her when she struggles?

Dyslexic

Billie eilish x dyslexic!fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Everyone who was in your life knew you were dyslexic. You had it growing up and you still have trouble with it today. You would get teased for it a lot when you were little and now since you were an adult. You never understood why people were so mean about it, it was just a learning disorder, but the people always made you feel extra dumb for it.

Here you were, sitting at your desk in the office of your shared house with your girlfriend, working on a class project. You were done writing your portion of the paper and sent it to the group chat. Billie was downstairs in the studio working on music. Almost immediately everyone responded, criticizing your work and how you wrote making your face heat up in embarrassment. One person even said that you were going to make them all fail if you don’t rewrite the whole paper.

You were confused but texted them back that you would look over it again. Going back to your paper you reread everything and you understood what they were talking about. What you wrote was jumbled and didn’t make sense at all. It didn’t fit what the whole project was about and you groaned out in frustration. You grabbed your paper and crumpled it up, throwing it behind you not knowing that it hit someone.

“Hey! Watch the tits bro.” Your girlfriend joked which usually made you laugh but all you let out was a little defeated sigh. “Sorry…” you apologized and you felt your chair spin around and you were face to face with your brown headed girlfriend. “Hey…you don’t need to apologize to me babe.” Billie reassured you and you just sat there staring off making Billie worry. “Okay what’s going on. You’ve been up here all day in the office and you look like you are about to pass out.” She said and you whimpered making her get down on her knees so she’s eye level with you.

“I just…I feel so stupid bils! My stupid brain and my learning disability.” You explained to her and how your partners were making you feel like shit. “Hey hey now. First of all, you aren’t stupid, second of all, they are shit heads who don’t know what they are talking about. Fuck them. You are the smartest and talented girl I know. Don’t let their peanut sized Brains make you think any differently do you understand?” Billie says and you nodded your head slowly. “I still have to write this stupid paper and on top of that I have to start completely over since I messed up.” You sigh and Billie gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t I read your project over and help you with your paper hm?” She suggested and you gave her a big smile. “Would you please? I don’t get it whatsoever and I feel like my head is gonna explode.” You explained and she giggles. “I know baby but how about I read it over and rewrite it to where you can understand it better how’s that?” She offered and you felt your eyes burn with tears. “Oh bils…you are the sweetest ever. What did I do to deserve you?” You say as you stand up from your chair and place a kiss on her plump lips, making her kiss you back immediately.

“Okay. Now go to bed and rest. I’ll be there to join you in a bit alright?” She softly demanded you and you nodded. You walked over to the bed and got underneath the covers as you watched Billie read over the project and write down some stuff before joining you. You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than Billie, who never made you feel stupid or slow. She loved you as you are.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! As someone who has a learning disability this was very nice to write. Anyone who has some sort of learning disability, know that no matter what anyone says to you, you are smart and capable just like everyone else and I’m proud of you :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! <3

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 3

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~1.5k words

Read Part 1 + Part 2

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

My Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who has read, reblogged, and liked this little series so far! This part reveals more about Y/N’s interests and talents, which she’s afraid to share because she is insecure! But not for long with sweet Jeon Wonwoo around. Also she has a fictional younger sister named Daehee (not after anyone in particular, I just like that name). 😉 These two are so innocent and cute, I’m having such fun writing them! Enjoy!!

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh  @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi  @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino  @neivivenaj  @blvkkeddcc (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Whoa you’re going all out on that, Y/N—”

Your younger sister, Daehee, had come down for breakfast with her bangs still in curlers, wearing her school uniform shirt over her Hello Kitty pajama pants. She was watching you as you concentrated on preparing various dishes at the stove. A thin omelet, grilled shishito peppers, vegetable tempura; it was pretty simple stuff, but you’d developed an urge to create aesthetically pleasing lunches these days.

You couldn’t really explain it, although somewhere in your heart you knew it probably had something to do with Jeon Wonwoo.

For the past week, Jean Wonwoo had been spending lunch on the roof alone with you.

The two of you barely exchanged words, really. Your longest conversation probably lasted only a few minutes. But not for Wonwoo’s lack of trying! You still wondered why he was spending his lunchtime up there at all—even more so why would he keep trying to strike up conversations with you? You guessed he really was just that nice. But every time you were around him you couldn’t help clamming up somehow.

“Are you in any clubs, Y/N?” he’d asked you the other day, between bites of his kimbap.

“Uh, no...” you answered quietly, your nerves frazzled from your total lack of conversational skills.

“None of them appeal to you?”

“Uh, not really that...” you didn’t know how to answer him. You’d ended up just looking at him blankly, like a fool. However, nothing in his facial expression or his tone made you feel like you had to necessarily come up with an answer... But his gaze was intent, and you found it hard to hold onto for more than about three seconds.

“What do you do for fun? To relax?” he followed up breezily, “You’re the class mystery.”

“Um,” the odd self-consciousness you felt at being called ‘the class mystery’ aside, you couldn’t really think of anything to say to him.

Actually, there was one thing that came to mind... but it wasn’t something you’d ever shared with anyone. Your one ‘hobby.’ Though to you it felt more like... squeezing a stress ball. It was what you did when you needed to turn your brain off.

He wants to know what I do to relax?

You couldn’t say what compelled you, but you pulled out your phone and found the photo album you had saved of your miniature paintings.

You worked with acrylic paint on very small canvasses, using very fine, small brushes to create miniature floral designs, portraits, landscapes... Your style was incredibly detailed. You had hundreds of tiny canvasses in little boxes and frames all over your room. You took pictures of most of these tiny paintings when you finished. You had even recorded a couple of time-lapse videos, showing you creating them in fast motion. You’d never felt compelled to create a social media account to display or monetize them, though. You painted because it was what you had done since you were a preteen—the careful, methodical process of dabbing tiny paintbrushes into your carefully mixed colors, getting the tone and shading of a poppy flower’s petal on a tiny scale just right... For you, creating these paintings was like a meditative practice.

By some stroke of inspiration—or insanity—you handed your phone to Wonwoo. His face became visibly more curious as he took your phone carefully in his hands.

“Wowwww,” Wonwoo said, holding the screen closer to his face. He seemed absorbed in your phone—you even caught him zoom in on a few pictures. You could tell he was looking carefully through the album.

“You’re crazy talented!” he said after a while. He sounded genuinely impressed.

“No, haha,” you somehow laughed, coughed, and gasped at the same time, your heart accelerating out of embarrassment from his compliment.

“No, seriously—Y/N, these are really incredible!” he said. “They’re so detailed, and they’re so small! How do you even do that!?” His eyes were glued to your phone screen. A part of you was screaming inside, why on earth you would show these to him!? and urging you to snatch your phone right out of his hand, throw it over the side of the building even. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo was seeing this, this... habit. And YOU had been the one to show him, of all things!

“I wouldn’t say they’re ‘incredible,’” you said, filling up with more and more anxiety over coming off as bragging or crossing some social boundary that you shouldn’t have crossed.

Wonwoo finally looked up from the screen, looking directly at you instead. You still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you felt his eyes on you. After a long pause, you dared to glance up at him...

But he quickly looked away from you.

Ugh, I’m probably making him feel like he has to be super nice or something...

“Oh, whoa—a time-lapse?” He said, quickly recovering from the somewhat awkward moment when your eyes had met. But his stumbling across the most recent time-lapse video that you’d made prompted you to snap out of your reverie and bolt to grab your phone out of Wonwoo’s hands.

“Ah, don’t watch that!” you lunged for your phone, but Wonwoo reflexively pulled his hand away, surprised by your reaction but still effortlessly dodging your attempt. He smirked down at you, and your heart almost stopped.

“Why not?” he said, and the deep resonance of his voice made you realize how close your bodies were—you were practically sprawled over him after reaching for your phone, his face just inches from yours...

Your whole body seemed to flush a deep shade of red before you catapulted backward away from him. You could have sworn that you saw that Wonwoo smiling to himself, but you were so flustered and anxious about the way you’d completely invaded his personal space that you couldn’t think straight.

“I won’t watch it,” he said light-heartedly, smiling at you as he tossed your phone back to you. “But you are super talented, Y/N. Painting is such a unique skill, too.”

And just like that, he went back to eating his kimbap like nothing had happened. His relaxed, friendly tone mercifully neutralized the atmosphere, but you just stood there clutching your phone to your chest.

“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” you started, even though you couldn’t look Wonwoo in the eye, “It’s just—I’ve never shared these paintings with anyone except my family...” Your heart kind of ached for some reason as you said this to Wonwoo, who just continued to look at you in silence. What on earth had compelled you to share that with him?

Agh, say something! You willed for this pause in conversation pass, but it didn’t seem to be budging.

“Thank you for showing me,” Wonwoo said at last. His low, gentle voice seemed to shoot directly into your bloodstream, flushing you an even deeper shade of red than you thought was humanly possible. You looked at him briefly, and something about the way he was looking back at you...  

The moment had played over and over again like a movie in your head for the past few days. The directness of his gaze. The rich, sincere quality of his voice. The way he’d smiled to himself... you couldn’t stop thinking of that particular lunch hour.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Daehee watched you dip veggies in tempura batter and toss them in the pot of hot oil on the stove. You let your mind run through the questions it had been asking all week: why was he spending time with you like this? Did he lose a bet? Is there some kind of hidden camera prank you should be wary of? More than that, why was he being so nice?

“Hellooo, earth to Y/N! I said you’re really going to town on your lunches these days,” Daehee tried again to get a rise out of you.

“Oh,” you said, taking the last piece of tempura squash out of the oil. “I just like experimenting.” You weren’t lying, exactly—you did like exploring all kinds of different food and dishes. Cooking was fun to you, different from the calm of painting.

You would be lying if you said that an added bonus wasn’t Wonwoo noticing and complimenting your work.

You liked it when he praised you. It felt like he meant it.

No one could be that good at faking sincerity, could they?

You couldn’t help but hear that small voice in the back of your head, doubting Wonwoo’s intentions.

But he hadn’t done anything other than come up to the roof during lunch this week, mostly just eating in silence with you—the two of you simply looking out at the sky...

But after you had shown him your paintings...

Maybe it was since then that you had started to put more effort into your lunches.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me brothers reacting to their s/o sending them selfies of them in skimpy outfits or completely nude?

Obey me Brothers + spicy pics from MC

Lucifer

Another tedious meeting that should have been an email. But Lucifer remained professional and stalwart as ever, so as to not embarrass Lord Diavolo.

The only exception he made was for his cellphone. Keeping it on silent, but on the table, as Lucifer had learned in the past if he didn’t check it at least regularly during these meetings it might be too late from when his brothers’ hijinks might ensure. Vering into calamity past hijinks.

He noticed he had a text from [Y/N] and was surprised as they usually never texted him when he was in these meetings. Respecting his work. If they were texting him, Lucifer assumed it was important and opened the text in a reserved manner so as not to draw attention.

When he saw what the text was, however, he had to grip his phone tight to the point of cracking to maintain that composure.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me. It seems there is an important matter I must deal with at home. I’ll be back once the matter is taken care of. Thoroughly.”

Mammon

“Mammon-san! Over here!”

“Yes! That’s perfect! Hold that pose!”

“You look amazing Mammon-san!”

The Avatar of Greed grinned roguishly as he was showered with praise. He had to admit, he really was killing this photoshoot.

The photographer took a few more shots before they called for a break and the team moved in to touch him up. Offering him compliments still, along with water. Both of which Mammon drank up. One of the attendants handed him his phone from his dressing room. Giving him a few moments to check it before it was back to work.

He looked at a missed text from [Y/N] and nearly did a spit take of his water. Able to thankfully keep it down, but still coughed in a very un-model like manner at seeing their nearly naked form.

“I uh…I gotta go. We have enough for the magazine right?? Good. Great! Thanks for the opportunity and be sure to call me again!”

Mammon was then out the door fast than anyone could catch him. Including to get his wardrobe outfit off.

“Models….” The photographer muttered as he reset his camera to take shots of the background models in the meantime.

Levi

“On your right! On your right! NO! Your other right!!” Levi shouted into his headset as he tried to lead his team through the maze of undead swarm.

Zombie Zion XX9 had just come out this week and Levi had been grinding non-stop. He barely made time to sleep, much less do anything else, in pursuit of this final battle with the Mother Swarm of zombies (there by defeating the plague and saving the world from the undead at last).

“Guys, we have to get through the door together, otherwise we don’t get the ‘In This Together’ buff! You need to catch up to me! It’s…It’s…ugh! Hold on!” His phone had been buzzing beside him non-stop for the past minute with various texts.

Usually, he would ignore it. But something this persistent typically meant it was important, and what if it was his brothers telling him the house was on fire? He’d have to save his Ruri-chan figures if that was the case.

When he opened the text, Levi’s eyes bugged out and he felt his nose begin to well up with blood as he looked at the picture of [Y/N] in their cosplay panties.

“Levi! Where are you?! We’re getting hammered out here! Levi-!” The connection on his game went dead as the last of his team members died. The screen fading into a black screen of ‘game over’.

“Oh, come on!”

Satan

This anthology that Simeon had recommended to him was thrilling. Truly a masterpiece.

Satan had been absorbed into the new series almost since the first page. Devouring each of the nine books with vigor, much like his little brother did with food. He had forsaken all else, honestly, except reading the past few days. Anxious to find out who the final killer & mastermind behind the protagonist’s plight was, and finally get some answers.

He was nearly at the climax, the big reveal, when his phone started to buzz.

Grumbling that his concentration was broken, Satan picked it up to see who it was. His irksomeness quickly dissolving as he saw [Y/N]’s nearly naked chest in front of him.

He had a choice to make.

Continue reading and get the answers he needed, or put the book down and go to the person clearly in need of him. How was he to choose?

In the end, he put the book down and sprinted off to where [Y/N] was. If the main character could wait 10 years to find out who the killer was, surely Satan could wait a little longer to find out as well.

Asmo

Shopping was one of Asmo’s favorite past times. Going to stores and looking for the perfect item or accessory was like a little treasure hunt to him. Or just perusing the aisles and new merch like one would an art gallery, with the same enthusiasm for beauty. It was a wonderful afternoon. Especially if [Y/N] was with him.

[Y/N] had gone to try on some items that they found while Asmo continued to scan over the racks. His cellphone eventually buzzed, and he fumbled with his iced coffee to get it out of his bag. Seeing a picture of [Y/N] in the dressing room in a super cute bra and panty set with the question :should I get it?:

:OMG yes! 💓🥵🔥🔥: Asmo texted back immediately.

:It looks so good on you! Which dressing room are you in?? I want to see it in person! Should we get matching ones??:

He eventually found [Y/N] and showered them with praise. Insisting that he would buy it for them if they didn’t get it themselves, and offered to buy it in every color as well.

Beel

“98…99…100.”

Beel lifted the weights one final time and put the bar back on the rack. The weights clanking down with a heavy thud with the sheer mass of them. He loved getting a good workout in before he went home.

Heading over to his locker space to get some water and check his phone, Beel saw he had a text from [Y/N]. He opened it and saw the spicy picture they had just sent him. Usually only the 5x Hellfire Spicy noodles were the only spice that could make him drool this much. Clearly he was wrong.

Beel decided to, for once, cut his work out short. He quickly packed his bag and ran home to do some cardio on the way home. Planning to do some more ‘cardio’ when he got there.

He could make up for the missed sets in the morning before school. Since he’d be busy the rest of the night.

Belphie

Belphie yawned and rolled over as he woke up from his nap. His fifth of the day, so it was a pretty short one. Only about an hour this time.

He stretched and rubbed his eyes before reaching for his phone to see what time it was. He was immediately greeted with a text from [Y/N] on the screen. He felt a little bad for missing it while he was a sleep, but by now they had to know that he would get back to them eventually. Belphie opened it and was immediately greeted with something from his dreams.

:Are you still wearing that?: He texted them back.

:Come to my room: He then added. :In the attic. I’m still in bed. So half the work is done😉.:

He waited to hear back from [Y/N] and grinned when he saw them respond with they were on their way.

And his brothers made fun of him for being in bed all the time. With his soft mattress and [Y/N], why would he ever want to leave?

[frodo-with-glasses]

Where have you been?

Uhhh, France?

(That’s a Hamilton reference, btw. I have never been to France.)

So! Another Hobbit Day is upon us. On this day last year, I’d promised you all that we would take another trek through LotR, with all new drawings and poems and fanfics. I fully expected to be finished with Book One by now, at least halfway through FotR. What actually happened is that the blog struggled through the first five and a half chapters of the book before suddenly going radio silent.

So what happened?

Well, as you might expect, real life happened. I won't go into the details here—since it has nothing to do with LotR—but I can explain in DMs if anyone is interested.

Basically, a change in my family led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about my family, which led to a reexamination of what I thought I knew about myself, which kicked off an intense period of self-improvement.

Over the course of this past year, I began to unpack my family's abuse; I learned about boundaries; I started to unlearn my old people-pleasing tendencies; I reconnected relationships that were broken, reevaluated ones that were in the wrong place, and cut off ones that weren't good for me. I discovered there was a little kid in my head who's been waiting years and years for an adult to love her, and to take her needs seriously, and I finally have the chance to be that adult. And I'm happy to say that I've come to a place where I feel safer in my own head than I have ever been.

Probably very little of that is going to show through on this blog. It's all inward stuff; foundational stuff. But one thing that might affect you guys is that I left my (dreadfully overstimulating and stressful) part-time job, and I'm now working full time somewhere else. As much as I love what I do for a living now, working 40 hours a week does mean that I am become Boring Adult who does not have as much time for interneting. With my current schedule, there is no way I'd be able to sustain the intense schedule of "must post one drawing a day" that I had in the early days of this blog; and I don't expect myself to.

But! I would like to—slowly—get this train rolling again.

I find it hilariously apropos that the last piece of art I posted on this blog was of Frodo suddenly disappearing. From Merry's perspective, he completely vanished without explanation or warning. From your perspective, so did I.

But I find myself here again, on another September 22nd, and once again I'm beginning to feel that pull; that pull to read, and draw, and create, and share, and laugh with all of you. Life has calmed down enough for me that I once again have the mental space to think about pursuing my hobbies. There are so many things I want to do—so much to do with the time that is given to me. And I want this blog to be on that list.

My current goal is to post some new book art every other day. If that's too much, I'll adjust it. But if I find my groove and really get into it, who knows? We might return to your regularly scheduled Daily Dose of Frodo-With-Glasses. We shall have to see.

Anyway. If you've read this far, thank you! If you've stuck with this blog since the early days, thank you. And if you are one of that lovely core Fellowship that has had my back and prayed for me all along, I cannot thank you enough.

This past year has been an absolute ride. Not as difficult as a trek to Mordor, maybe, but not easy either. But no matter where I walked, I knew I didn't have to take the journey alone.

Anyway! Enough sappiness. Happy Hobbit Day! I'm excited to see what the next year has in store for us. 💚

[drghostwrite]

Your work is amazing!! My obsession with Regina mills is so bad and I need your help because I swear I see her as a power bottom 😫😫 AND NO ONE ELSE DOESSS. If it’s okay please could you write a Regina and reader fic where the reader is a service top? LOVE YOUUUU

Omg hehe YES!! I can so see her being a power bottom, mmm yes okay so here we go. I’ve never intentionally written this dynamic so here goes nothing, let me know whatcha think. Also thanks for the suggestion love. 😙

Pairing: Regina Mills x wife!reader

Summary: Regina’s lover brings her breakfast, a visit that turns… steamy.

******************************************************** Your heels clicked on the hard marble floors as you made you way to your wife’s office. When you got up this morning she wasn’t in bed and her car was long gone so you assumed she had gone into the office, on your way to the station your assumption had been right. So being the amazing wife you were you stopped by Granny’s picking up some pancakes and coffee and made your way to her office.

You stopped outside the door and read the bold letters, Mayor, you knocked softly hearing a very annoyed ‘come in’ from the other side. You could almost feel the eye roll from the woman behind the desk.

You slowly opened the door to see her reading over some paperwork, her elbow on the desk holding fingers pressed against her temple as her other hand held a paper and pen. She didn’t even bother to look up as she heard you enter.

“This better be important or so help me…” she started, looking as annoyed as ever.

“Well that’s no way to greet your lover, is it?” You teased as you walked towards her desk. She looked up at you surprised, her eyes raking over your body as you walked in. You were wearing all black, her favorite, a vest and pant combo, the black shirt underneath to match, your holster and badge displayed on your hip.

“Hello darling.” A smile playing at her plush red lips.

“My love.” You nodded and came around to her, bending down to kiss her soft lips, your hand softly ghosting her cheek. “I missed you this morning.”

“Well duty calls, especially when you work with idiots.”

“Hmm…” you chuckled leaning down to kiss her more passionately.

“So tell me detective, to what do I owe the visit?” She teased, grinning against your lips.

“Can’t I just bring my wife some breakfast?” You poked, kissing her again. Setting the bag and cups on the desk, taking your badge and gun off laying it to the side.

“Mm, depends on what else comes with the breakfast.” She pulled you closer by your belt loops, finally standing to meet you.

“Well whatever her majesty wants she gets…” you trailed, as she pushed her tongue into your mouth, you fought for dominance before just letting her take over.

“Rough morning?” You asked kissing her neck, her perfect red lipstick now smudged.

“Darling you have no idea…” her breath warm against your lips, as you picked her up setting her on her desk

“What can I do to help?” You said pulling back and looking into the mischievous brown orbs as she grinned back at you. She wrapped her toned legs around your waist as her well manicured fingers played with the buttons of your vest.

“I think you know…” she trailed with a smirk, running her tongue seductively along her perfectly white teeth with a smirk.

“Mm… maybe you should lock the door first, wouldn’t want anyone to catch the mayor with her thighs wrapped around my head.” Your low sultry tone gracing her ears.

“Mm…” she chuckled, “why not let everyone know who you belong to, show everyone that you’re the only person that makes me feel this good.” She raised her hand with a little purple wisp and you heard the door lock.

You chuckled, “doesn’t mean they won’t hear you…” you trailed bites and kisses down her neck as her hand tangled in your hair. She pushed your vest off, you leaned back helping her as she ripped your shirt open, buttons hitting the floor and rolling under exquisite furniture, exposing the black lace bra underneath. Black was her color but God did she love seeing it on you.

“I liked that shirt…” you whined while leaning to kiss her. Soft hands were running up your exposed sides, pulling you closer.

“I’ll buy you another one…” she smirked. In between heated kisses you reached back undoing the zipper of her top and pulling it down. Her perky breasts spilling over the exposing black lace lingerie that she wore underneath, you could see her nipples perfectly through the lace.

“Damn you’re gorgeous…” taking in her beautiful body, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side, placing open mouthed kisses down her collar bones and over her luscious breasts. You used your tongue to lightly ghost over a hardened nipple, before pulling it into your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you before moving to the other pulling the soft flesh into your mouth, your fingers moving to the other to tease. Pinching and twisting her nipple between your fingers at first softly but then harsher the pain turning to pleasure for her. The first of many erotic moans falling from her lips. You started leaving little nips, forming little red marks that would be purple by morning. Something that Regina typically didn’t mind, unless she had no way to cover them up and hide them from the office for the rest of the day.

“Y/N, dear…”

“Yes my love?”

“Behave…”

“Or what?”

“I’ll make you…” she groaned out. And you chuckled leaving another mark along her chest, she cocked an eyebrow at you seeing the defiant smirk you had on your face.

“hmm…” you chuckled against her chest and placed small kisses over the now reddened marks. You felt her hand that had been tangled in your hair reach around and grab your neck, slightly squeezing as she lifted you to meet her eyes, her bottom lip trapped under her glossy pearly white teeth, she loved when you mouthed off cause it meant she could put you in your place. One of her legs moved up and settled on the chair behind you, her red bottom stiletto clicking against the handle, you ran a hand up the smooth olive skin slowly pushing up the fabric of her lifted skirt.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and show your queen what that tongue can really do?” She whispered out in a low growl, spreading her legs even wider in front of you as she perched on her desk.

You met her hooded brown eyes and slowly bent down, pulling the chair closer, weaving your arm under her leg that was up on the chair arm, letting it rest over your shoulder while your skilled fingers lifted her skirt. You slowly ghosted your fingers over her clothed core, feeling the small spot of wetness, “so wet for me…” you said breath hot on her thighs as you nipped at her, snapping the waist band of her black lace panties against her hip before slowly sliding them off. She let out an approving moan as she watched you place open mouthed kisses up her thigh, she let her head fall back her mouth open as she chuckled to herself.

You worked your way up her inner thighs, drawing it out the best you could before you felt her hand weave through your hair, forcing your head down closer to her dripping core. You ran your tongue flat against her tasting her. Pulling your fingers through her folds and collecting her slick, looking at it glisten on your fingertips, setting up and watching her through your eyelashes you sucked on your fingers and released them with a pop. “You taste amazing…” you said as she looked into your devious eyes, biting her lip once again. The hand currently in your hair tightened demandingly as you bent down and pulled your tongue over her again, this time coming dangerously close to where she needed you most, watching her as she bit her bottom lip and then pulling her clit into your mouth. Her head fell back in pleasure with a small whine of relief that turned into a groan of pleasure as you used skilled licks and sucks to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so perfect down there between my legs, eating me out like a good girl.” lewd moans filling the room as you moaned into her sending vibrations through her core.

Thankfully no one was actually around to see how perfect you looked between her legs. Regina was sitting legs spread on her desk, upper torso exposed to the world decorated in an array of reddish purple marks as you were in front of her, her perfectly manicured hand gripped your shoulder as the other tangled in your hair, your hand held her hip steadying her. Her toned leg in her perfect designer heels over your shoulder.

You reached down using two fingers and curling them into the spongy spot that made her go wild, pumping in and out slowly adding a third. You could feel as her thighs clenched around you, her hand forcing you closer and closer, you started to feel lightheaded but you were determined to please your wife.

You felt her thighs begin to shake and her moans become more breathy and frequent as she got closer, chasing her high. You snaked a free hand up and pinched a nipple between your fingers before grabbing her entire boob in your hand. Letting one last low vibration come from your throat as you worked on her clit, you heard her let out one last soft moan working her through her orgasm. Coaxing her until she was lifting her hips away from you, overstimulated by your tongue on her clit.

You sat up and pulled her down into a kiss, feeling her soft plump lips on yours, she could taste herself still on your tongue. Thinking about the fact that she could taste herself when kissing you drove you both wild, a sign that you belonged to her and her only.

“Next time you bring me breakfast I prefer it be in bed, instead of my office…” she chuckled, finally breaking the heated silence and chuckling against your lips.

“Well maybe next time I can fuck you senseless over your desk and I won’t have to worry about going back to work.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged… you are married to the mayor after all.” She smirked, pulling at you ripped shirt, still partial tucked into your pants, pulling you closer and sliding her hands over your smooth skin exposed to her.

Before she could do anything else her desk phone rang and she picked up, “Hello?” She eyed you cautiously.

“Yes, if you don’t mind sending it over…” you eyed her mischievously and bent down to place soft kisses on her thigh before placing one bite drawing a gasp from her lips, risking her wrath for later that night. She hung up the phone and glared at you playfully.

“if I didn’t have to get back to work I would punish you right now…”

“Saved by the mayor then?” You poked sarcastically knowing what would be waiting for you later. With a wave of her hand your outfit was put back together and she was smoothing out her clothes.

“I will see you later tonight my love.” You said kissing her before making your way out.

“Y/N dear?”

“yes?” You turned.

“I seem to be missing…”

“these?” You asked holding up a black lace pair of panties as your trophy, “you’ll get them back later.” You said folding them in your pocket with a smirk.

A stern but excited look crossed over her face knowing you were being a brat on purpose, “you’ll get your punishment tonight.”

“On that note…I love you.” You said with a wink and sly smirk, sliding out of her office as she called a stubborn, I love you, after you.

******************************************************** @poisonappleeater @gayestswiftie @thesamesweetie

[dclovesdanny]

Hii! I'm the one who asked about the dead serious soulmate AU prompt and I was talking about your latest posts of it where the ending is that jazz gave Damian a notebook(Danny's) to Damian which was filled with Robin pictures and notes, and yeah. Anyways, I looked through your dead serious prompts and saw this one prompt but it doesn't have a continuation, at least as far as I know.

https://www.tumblr.com/dclovesdanny/744946841060294656/dc-x-dp-prompt-dead-serious-prompt-14-damian-and?source=share

Really love the concept of it as well as this one!

https://www.tumblr.com/dclovesdanny/743789718574120960/this-would-work-so-well-with-any-dcxdp-ship-but-i?source=share

Anyways! Hope you post more dead serious ship prompts and other ships as well, I really like your posts!!

Thank you so much for the compliments! I’m going to expand more on the second one, even though some other people expanded on it, mostly focusing on time travel and how it would affect it.(I would recommend reading those reblogs, they are amazing!)

This is probably going to be part one of my first connected series. What should I call it?

Damian’s first fact from his soulmate appeared during his first few weeks with his father. Damian had awoken with the words on his arm, and immediately taken stock of what he could deduce from the messy handwriting.

I love the stars

The first thing he learned was that his soulmate was born on February 11th late at night or 12th early in the morning, and was currently ten years old. His soulmate had to have been born early in the morning, and next year he would have to stay awake all night to determine exactly when his soulmate was born.

Secondly, his soulmate’s first language is English. That pointed towards his soulmate being born in the United States, Australia, or England. Of course, his soulmate could be raised by immigrant parents, but that is less likely.

Third, his soulmate had messy but readable handwriting, indicating his soulmate was learned at the least, and further pointing towards the states, as it was required for American children to go to school.

Fourth, his soulmate loves the stars. He would have to have Father fund the Gotham Observatory, and research more about light pollution. Perhaps he could even take his soulmate to Nanda Parbat, where the stars are not affected by light pollution.

He could hear his father’s voice downstairs, and his father’s band of strays were starting to wake. He had spent almost an hour focusing on his soulmate without even realizing it. He gets out of bed, and after a moment of hesitation, he covers the fact before going downstairs. While he would never be ashamed of his soulmate and fight anyone who dared to breathe otherwise, he wanted to keep his soulmate to himself, if only for awhile.

————————————————————————

Danny woke up in an instant, for once waking without his alarm or his sister doing it. The minute he remembered the date, he yanked his sleeve aside to stare down at his soulmate’s fact. He really hoped he was the younger one. He stared down in confusion

أنا نباتي

After almost 15 minutes of googling frantically, he finally figured out that his soulmate’s fact translated to I’m a vegetarian. He also learned his soulmate’s first language was Arabic. Wait, did his soulmate even know English? Damn, if they didn’t this would suck.

Resolving to try and learn some phrases in Arabic, he looked at the clock and swore. It was almost time for him to leave for school, and he could hear his sister coming towards his room. He quickly changed into a NASA shirt and pants and grabbed his things. He couldn’t wait to tell Tucker!

[jay-joy113]

Please make more drabbles for (dnd!AU) knight!jason with witch/wizard!reader 🥺👉👈💦

Of fuking course! Im so exited this is my first request!!!

Bibidi bobidi boom

Jason didn’t like going to the capital, that place was full of snobs and most important his adoptive father, The fuking duke, Bruce Wayne the first. But he needed to go, war started and he was called to protect the royal family (He would rather die in the battle fild but ok).

The only reason he compromised was because his ACTUAL parental figure, Alfred, sent a letter. And he refused to make the old man sad. So to the capital he went.

At the entrance he already saw the homeless beggers on the side ways. It was once him, but he didn’t want to remember. A bit further he passed by the more wealthy part of the capital, the nobles usualy shoped for exotic things there. Some of the less educated simply saw him as an ordinary pennyless knight, who would certantly die. Other knew him, afther all he was an familiar face in the back street fighting arenas Who some of them enjoyed, Who doesn't love seeing poor people killing each other for money?

Finally, at the palace entrance, all Jason could pray about was that he didn’t need to care for the annoying emperor, he would rather guard the young heir or anyone but the emperor. And it seems his prayer was heard, aparently his job would be guard the royal mage. He didn’t even know that was an choice. He needed to scort them to the enemy territory to do an magical attack. Now, ussualy war there was a bit more... hands on. But they were in a war with the damn elfs, those fuckers were pretty much immune to physical damage because of their magical stone.

On their way to the elven queendom, he lerned a bit more about the mage, they were actually an wanted criminal in many realms because of their necromancy studies. Jason felt conflicted, for one he hated necromencers, those fuckers made him come back against his will. On the other hand you said you only use the corpses of people who agreed before hand or enemys. Another thing he lerned about you was that you were an certain blonde smoker aprentice. You yapped a lot actually. So much you didn’t even notice how much yall walked already.

Maybe you aren't that bad.

Or maybe he just went soft afther you curled to his side on the makeshift bed for the night.

Jason doesn't hate the capital that much anymore. Maybe he could pay you a visit again? Maybe you two could hang out outside work?

Thanks for reading!

[read-write-thrive]

Edwin and Charles in disguise at the party as seen in @prince-simon ‘s The Great Snogging Debacle of ‘95 !!! at first I was going to go for full fic-accuracy of payneland making out, but I couldn’t find a good pose reference for the life of me so I said fuck it and went with that one meme (you know the one) and called it a day lmao

@prince-simon hope you enjoy it and thank you once again for indulging me with all my questions about their outfits! hopefully this is similar to what you imagined!! the fic is phenomenal and I HIGHLY recommend it for anyone who hasn’t already read this fandom staple!!!

[shirefantasies]

Marti it is Moss *does small dance* sending in a Hobbit imagine should it strike your fancy to answer. If not feel free to delete you come first and foremost! Your blog is always a delight and i read everything you post like its the morning newspaper.

Im wondering if you would write a hobbit headcanon for a reader who uses a mobility aid like forearm crutches!

I myself use forearm crutches (named Catcher and Holder a la Dwalin) for dizziness and weakness due to neurological issues, but there are many reasons for their use from joint pain to hypermobility. Sometimes people use them all the time and other times they are only used when they have flare ups (some have to have them available all the time in case of The Return tm)

Sometimes you use one and sometimes you use two. All depends on condition severity, needs,what youre doing, and preference

Even when you have a flare up you may not prefer to use them for short distances ie in your house some people choose not to. I use mine on the steps unless im doing something hazardous and dont want to risk a fall (and be able to walk in general)which ive become prone to over the last two years.

You still live your life and do what you do sometimes its a bit different other times its not. Sometimes you have a stick or two.

You can make a lot of fun decorations and functional tools like cupholders and pouches for your crutches and stickers make them unique and customizable. Honestly the biggest challenge for me is mugs and stairs+ other two handed tasks 😩 let me see someone smack a warg protecting their bestie and then lament not planning their cuppa retrieval rofl.

Im wondering how our lads would have a time with this- not acceptance wise as i know Dwarves are very accepting. More along lines of shenanigans wholesome fun bonding the good daily stuff that you write so beautifully and capture each one of them so well!

Thank you so much and if you have any questions please feel free to reach out

🌿🏹moss🏹🌿

Hello Moss 🥰💚 OMG Catcher and Holder that's perfectttt! Sorry this post is so fuckin long in the making but hopefully you enjoy it and this captures it well! I confess I don't personally use a mobility aid at this time so I may not have the greatest frame of reference 😅 but yeah I hope you like these little moments! *does small exit dance in return*

Warnings: canon typical violence in some

Thorin's Company + Reader With Mobility Aids

Balin

“Might I ask who built that?” Polite as ever, Balin motioned to the chair upon which you had affixed a pair of wheels. “I did,” you answered, “I was the only person in my little village who needed something like this.” “Well, you are quite the craftsman. Would that you had no ties to your hometown and the Lonely Mountain could snap you up! You could see those skills built up tenfold.” “R-really? I came here to Laketown for something just like that! But I’ll confess I think you will be a far better teacher.” Winking, you gave Balin a smile he mirrored. “You’re resilient. Smart as a whip, too! It would be my honor.” “And after all,” you added, “If anyone would know how to mount a crossbow on the arms, it would be dwarves!” At that, even as polite a dwarf as Balin could hardly help bursting into a wicked grin.

Dwalin

“Nice axes.” “Forged them myself,” Dwalin answered with a nod, “Grasper and Keeper. One grasps your soul, the other keeps it.” “How funny,” you remarked, raising your forearm crutches, “I call these Catcher and Holder. Same idea only with the body. Suppose that isn’t nearly as impressive, though.” “Impressive?” Dwalin burst out. “We’ve all got our battle scars. Our wounds. Never be ashamed of that. The fact that you’re still up ‘n’ going? Be proud. I can show you plenty o’ scars myself!” At that last bit, Dwalin began lifting up his tunic to reveal toned skin paled in some places and darkened in others by all manner of scars and at that, you couldn’t help shyly laughing. Proud indeed.

Thorin

Yes, the king had not denied you entry into his company when Gandalf had recommended you, but he had raised and furrowed his regal brow in the skeptical look all but branded into your mind. He’d asked Gandalf if he was certain, and from then on the fire in your heart blazed. Certainly Thorin treated you as an equal, giving you the tasks he gave all others, but he had been yet to see you in battle and you knew that was where your proof would solidify. In fact, the first time wargs closed in upon you, you were one of the first to run back at them. Hearing the way Thorin called your name, but thoroughly ignoring it in favor of landing a solid crack upon the nearest adversary's skull. Luckily your body was having a better day anyway despite all the walking, because you spun and smashed your way through the orc pack, especially once you saw the way one bowled Bofur and Dori over. Fire took over your heart and eyes as you swung your mace until you could swing no more, all but deaf to the cracking of heads and the clattering of your allies’ blades through that pounding adrenaline. At the end of it all, Thorin approached you, his expression surprisingly mild. Then it broke into a smile. “The wizard was right about you,” he told you, clapping a hand to your shoulder, “Invaluable in all respects indeed.”

Oin

“Oh, that’s clever, that is!” “My eyes are up here,” you quipped, crossing your arms and smiling sardonically down at the dwarf bent over peering at your wheels. At that, Oin tilted his head up to look back at you, giving a raucous heh heh heh of laughter. “Never seen anything like this lot before,” he commented, shaking his head and running a hand over the frame of your chair, “You’d think dwarves’d be the first to make ‘em! ‘S beautiful.” Your lips parted wordlessly for a few moments before you spoke, head still slightly tilted. “Beautiful?” “Course!” Oin replied, smiling widely as he rose to his feet again. “A real beauty for sure. A marvel, actually. It is quite the privilege to get to see it in action!” “No one has ever told me that before,” you replied quietly, a smile spreading across your lips.

Gloin

Orcs rushed you from every side, sending you scrambling as fast as your crutches could support you. Carrying a sword aside it all was about as unwieldy as one imagined, but you knew no different. In fact, your best strike that fight had nearly taken a whole arm off. Catching sight of you, though, the nearest of your blood-spattered adversaries grinned and gave a savage kick, sending your crutches flying from beneath you. Teetering, you pitched forward, trying to catch yourself with one arm and steady your sword with the other as the shout rang out. “You think you’re so clever, you great filthy buzzard? I don’t think so!” With a savage growl of his own, Gloin flew into the fray, and with a violent swing of his axe the orc’s head was sent unceremoniously tumbling to the dirt. “Serves ‘m right, eh?” Gloin asked with a smug look as he extended a hand, helping you up, handing you your crutches, and even gently dusting you off.

Bifur

You had seen the way he glanced your way. How his eyes traced the lines of the crutches extending from your forearms, the extensions of steel that made walking less painless. And running more painless if you were a charging warg on the receiving end of a bash to the face. Bifur had seen the way you slid your arms free to motion and sign to him, indicating the interesting things seen along the road. If you had a tendency to go nonverbal, he would aid you in removing your crutches when you needed to sign. Such things had been floating in your mind when you sat by his side, asked him if he understood in a way. You certainly felt understood in his presence, after all. Bifur glanced away with haste, but still you caught notice of tears in his dark eyes, just for a moment. A moment before the smile spread across his face and he leaned in, gently resting his forehead against yours- carefully, of course, so you barely felt the brush of the axe against your joined skin.

Bofur

“Bofur!” Uncaring how earsplitting your scream may have been, you charged forward, heaving one leg before the other as fast as you could while still keeping a hand on your walker. Which was faster than even you realized, sped by adrenaline and rage and urgency all pounding through your ears. Loading your crossbow again and again, you fired three successive shots into the assailant’s side, shoulder, and finally with the last you struck his ugly head and knocked him down onto his ass. For good. Sighing heavily, you leaned for just a moment on your walker frame before making your way to Bofur’s side, this time at a less painful pace, and turned it around to take a seat. Leaning down, you reached for his hand. “Bofur, are you alright?” “I am thanks to you,” he chuckled, his hazel eyes fixed upon you fondly, “Maybe I need to get myself one of those. Seems to aid the aim, having something to lean on.” Grinning and blinking back tears, you procured a cloth and a strip of bandage and started to dab away the blood on his shoulder.

Bombur

“Hope this isn’t rude…” You were surprised by the sound of Bombur's soft voice coming from your side, turning from the journal you wrote in and setting your implements aside. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, well aware of all the 'not rude' inquiries you'd received over the years as to why you carried crutches, especially if some days you did not. However, knowing this one came from sweet Bombur softened you. He actually meant it. "...But what's the hardest part of having those?" You couldn't resist a snicker at the thought that immediately rose to your mind. "You'd really like to know?" "Yes," he nodded, "If I may." With another little snort, you smiled and told him, "Mugs." "Mugs?" "Mugs and stairs. Can't tell you the number of times I've spilled on my way up. Anything that takes two hands, really." "I see!" The conversation ended with Bombur's eyes lighting up. At least you thought it had ended... Several days later, he came shuffling up to you with that same sweetly eager glint and his hands behind his back. "I've made you something," he told you, pulling out an open cylinder of steel and unfolding another little piece from it, "Hope it works. It's a little mug holder. Go on, let's see if it fits." Snapping the little unfolding piece to your crutch, Bombur watched your face break into a grin as it remained in place. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, Bombur. Thank you." "You deserve it," he replied, smiling fondly at you.

Dori

“I wouldn’t exactly mind having one of those.” “A cane?” You arched a brow. “I’ve always thought it made you look distinguished,” he admitted with a smile. “Now that is a new one,” you commented wryly, “All for use of my leg.” “Nothing wrong with it,” Dori shrugged, “We all do what we must. Seems a shame you’ve such a plain one, though.” At that, your proverbial ears perked up. “As opposed to what?” “Well,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. Haven’t you seen all the nice silver tips and things they put on canes?” “Ah,” you nodded, “I see what you mean! It is a bit of a shame I haven’t anything to decorate mine with, isn’t it?” “Haven’t anything? What do you call this?” With that emphasized last word, Dori reached behind into his pack and procured a little silver charm, one carved richly with dwarven runes and even centered with a little green stone. Fiddling at his back more, the dwarf also found a section of string and hastily tied it to your cane’s handle. “Now what do you call that?” He asked, waving a hand over the charm. “I have a bit of luster dust if you’d like something more.” Needless to say, it was the most fun night you’d had in those endless weeks of trekking.

Nori

Raising one eyebrow at Nori, you stared in skepticism as he held a hand out and repeated his request. “Your cane, please?” “How do I know you won’t just run off with it?” You shot back. “You’re sitting,” he pointed out, “Not like you really need it. Besides, do you really think I’d be so incorrigible a scoundrel as to make off with someone’s means of walkin’ for no reason?” Nori’s gaze slid upward from your carven wood cane back to your eyes, which remained as they were. “Second thought, don’t answer that. Just trust me, hm? You won’t regret it. Dwarf’s honor.” At the invoking of honor, an action infrequently taken by Nori, your brow lowered to form a more neutral, though inquisitive, expression as you handed your cane over. You were quickly distracted by conversation from Dori as you sat, folding your hands in both complacency and content and shivering a bit in the snow. The conversation continued for some time until an ‘A-ha!’ rang out and Nori came running back up, triumphantly hoisting your cane, to which he had crudely affixed one of his many knives. “And what,” you asked, “Is this?” Nodding beyond your night’s campground, Nori indicated the ice extending across the ground. “Aid in your trek! Can’t have you slipping, can you? Not that I won’t catch ya.” He winked.

Ori

“Your sticks!” Ori gasped, brown eyes wide with horror. “Where are they?” “My crutches?” Eyebrows sliding upward in amusement, you made your way toward the young dwarf, who was stitching a sock a handful of feet away. At that, he simply nodded, repairs completely abandoned upon his lap. "Oh, I simply had no need for them today," you answered with a small shrug of your shoulders. At that, Ori gave a curious little frown. “So you can walk some days?” “It isn’t only a matter of walking,” you chuckled, “Moreso that some days my pain and balance are worse.” “Like when Gloin’s leg bothers him?” Ori asked, face turning to childlike eagerness. “Or how Bifur doesn't talk some days?" A little smile spread across your face and your chest expanded with warmth. "Yes," you agreed, "Just like that, Ori."

Fili

Mind drifting off in tandem with the pulsing ache of your limbs, you gazed at the flicker of the fire, faintly drifting smoke curling into the air from pipes and the kindling itself. Your hands idly wrung your cane until the sensation of warmth brushing your leg drew you from your empty focus spiral. Shifting your gaze, you were met with the sight of Fili sitting at your side. "Think I might need one of those after today." Following his gaze, your eyes fell back down to your hands, more specifically the cane held there. "Your own mobility aid or the other?" At your last words, Fili quirked up a golden brow. "The other?" He repeated. Smirking proudly, you slid the end off your cane, revealing a sword hidden within. “The other,” you repeated once more with emphasis, “Guess you weren’t paying attention to how I heaved so many goblins off that bridge.” “You’re right,” Fili agreed, blue eyes lighting up in the fireglow, “I do want that. How long has that been there?” “Whole time.” “Just waiting for the right moment, eh?” “Of course,” you bantered back, “Gotta make a show.”

Kili

“Can I try?” Kili smiled up at you as you blinked at him, face blank with thought. Reaching down, he pantomimed using your crutches for a step, swinging his arms back and forth. "You want to give my crutches a go?" Your eyebrows shot up, a smile building upon your face. Memories flooded your mind, deep knowledge of the struggle that nearly always comes with those first steps and even far beyond. Loosening the grip you had upon your aids, you handed them off to Kili as you took Oin's hand and allowed him to help walk and lower you onto a makeshift camp seat. Hooking his arms in, Kili stood up, adjusting his posture after several moments. He took a step, then swung them. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. Hold on." You giggled from your seat at Oin's side as Kili raised one leg, thought, brought the crutches down again and wobbled such that you were tempted to extend hands that could catch him.

Bilbo

“I was scared first, but trust me: you’ll be grateful in the end once you get on these fellows,” Bilbo told you, looking down at you as he patted the pony he sat upon. “It isn’t that,” you answered, gaze dropping from the hobbit’s, “It’s…well, it is a bit embarrassing, to be honest.” The dwarves had been sweet enough to fortify the feet of your forearm crutches, though they still could not understand why you didn’t ride. The answer, quite frankly, rose a bit of a flush to your cheeks. Bilbo must have caught this. “You shouldn’t be ashamed. Nothing of it is your fault. You can tell me. Probably better me than all those dwarves, right? I won’t tell a soul.” His voice dropped to a playful whisper for that last sentence, which though it didn’t help the heat radiating beneath your skin did open your heart and your mouth. “If I were to get lightheaded or a shock of pain riding a pony I could fall off. And...And I would need someone to hold onto me.” “Ah,” the hobbit replied, this time taking his turn to shyly gaze away, “Well, if you ever change your mind, I would be more than happy to hold you.”

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[dreamytfw]

Not liking Cas because he let Sam out of the panic room in s4 and no one ever found out sure is... a choice. For a few of reasons.

a) Cas was under direct orders from Heaven at the time. He hadn't fully rebelled yet. And it was either carry out orders or be killed. Cas really didn't have a choice. And after he'd rebelled in s5, he didn't let Sam out of the panic room

b) Dean said he'd let Sam die in that panic room. He let Sam's hallucinations torture him. The detox Dean tried to do was cruel and inhumane, and can very easily be read as retaliation for Sam "choosing" Ruby over Dean (note: this does not mean it is the ONLY reading. And regardless of if you subscribe to the retaliation reading, the conditions Dean put Sam in were still cruel and inhumane). Hating Cas for letting Sam out of abusive, cruel, and inhumane conditions, but not hating Dean for doing that to Sam in the first place. Hm. Interesting.

c) This is a Doyalist reason rather than a Watsonian one, but it's still worth bringing up imo. From a writing perspective, I'm not sure who else was going to let Sam out. Demons can't open the door, so Ruby or even Lilith aren't options. iirc Dean and Bobby are the only humans that know Sam is in there, and they're not going to let him out because they've convinced themselves this is the right thing to do. Uriel's dead, and Anna's off doing her own thing. There literally was not another character who could have let Sam out. And the writers had to let Sam out to let the plot move forward. Like, if anyone can think of another character that was available, let me know. But just from a writing stand point, I literally cannot think of who else would have been able to let Sam out.

d) Blood freak Sam is extremely hot, so really, we should be thanking Cas for letting him be a feral little guy.

If people want to be mad at Cas, I can't stop them. But hating him for letting Sam out of the panic room in s4 is, imo, one of the dumbest and most inconsistent reasons. Dean was literally torturing Sam to death, but sure, yeah, let's be mad at the guy who was being forced under penalty of death to let Sam out. Like what kind of logic??

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXVII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3 ONE MORE THING this is a little bit spicy ;)

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Elain traced the fine calligraphy of the letter in her hands. Her name was written across the sealed envelope in a pretty, looping scrawl. She would have recognised Nesta’s lovely script anywhere. 

The familiar wax seal had been pressed with a symbol she knew well. The peak of the mountain was one she had seen painting the horizon of her home for the last few years, the three little stars drawing her attention. 

Cora had given her the envelope just as she had been getting ready for bed. The knock had her freezing at first, anticipating the worst. Lucien never made his presence known, choosing to simply use his magic to enter their rooms, same as Eris. At the late hour she could hardly imagine anyone coming for a social visit. 

The sound of her friend’s voice, had Elain tugging a nightgown over her head in a clumsy rush, running barefoot over the carpeted floors to open the oak door of her and Lucien’s shared chambers. 

Cora had looked serious, passing her the piece of parchment with her full lips tugged into a slight frown. “From your sister,” she had whispered, so low Elain almost had not heard. She had pressed it into her palm, pressing down slightly to indicate its importance.

Elain had known her brows were furrowed, the confusion she had felt etching onto her expression. She had opened her mouth, but had not been given the chance to respond, or even ask for clarification.  

“Sleep well,” Cora had offered quickly, shifting in a flurry of dark skirts. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The day of her wedding. 

As the thought whirled in Elain’s mind for a moment, Cora stepped past the stone archway and winnowed down the hall effortlessly. Her steps were silent, her long hair swinging in its simple braid. 

“Goodnight,” Elain mumbled, more to herself as the Night Court female turned down the corner, hardly casting her a second glance.   

Lucien had gone to find his mother, and Elain was left to rip the letter open in privacy. She closed the door behind Cora, leaning her back against its rough surface. The bark was uneven through the fabric of her clothes, grounding her as she read over the words on the paper. Only one statement stood out to Elain, making her bite the inside of her cheek until she tasted the copper bitterness of her own blood. 

The last few weeks of searching for a loophole have led us to dead end after dead end, and Rhysand wants to avoid a conflict at all costs. 

While the writing was clearly Nesta’s, the words were obviously Feyre’s. Elain stopped reading to take a deep breath, her heartbeat thunderous, blood rushing to her ears. She wanted the same thing, especially after the war with Hybern. Seeing the death and destruction in the aftermath of such a war had been awful, had haunted her nightmares for months.  

You have to decide whether you want to cancel this wedding, Elain, and whatever choice you make, me and Nesta will be there to support you. 

The letter ended, leaving Elain to her own thoughts. She could not stop the small smile from gracing her features, glad that her sisters trusted her enough to make this decision without their influence. She read the letter one more time, committing the words to memory. 

There was a loud crack coming from the logs in the fireplace, and Elain found herself taking small steps toward it. She understood completely that if she wanted to end her rushed engagement to Lucien, she was well within her power to do so. 

My mate. 

Elain knew all she had to do was tell Cora, and the two of them would face the High Lord of Autumn. Perhaps he would dismiss her, tell her it was wedding day nerves, but ultimately she figured he would let them leave. Eris might even help them, she was certain he did not want to see either of them dead at his father’s hands. 

Lucien. 

Elain whispered his name softly to herself, his name bringing her nothing but a sense of comfort and calm, so different from the emotions that had tormented her before she arrived at his cruel home. Elain traced her finger along the crisp edge of the letter, tossing it into the raging fire without a second thought, having made her decision days ago. 

Elain was going to marry Lucien. She had convinced herself it had very little to do with their mating bond anyway. It all seemed so simple in her head. When they returned to Velaris together, she would get to know him further. At some point, Elain had begun to consider him a true friend, a partner as they navigated the obstacles in the Autumn Court. She could see him in her future as clear as if she were looking at it through glass. 

Without warning, Lucien winnowed into the large space, causing Elain to jump with an embarrassing yelp. She watched as the last of the letter shrivelled and burned, turning to ash, just as she whirled around to face him. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the cotton of her nightgown beneath her fingers. 

“You scared me,” Elain mumbled, pouting as she walked towards him, hoping he had not seen the last of the envelope’s remains in the fireplace. She hoped to avoid having such a conversation with him, especially as there were other more pressing matters on her mind. 

Lucien laughed, leaning towards her as she approached, comfortable. “My apologies, lady,” he replied, bowing at the waist gracefully. 

Elain rolled her eyes, not willing to admit she found him charming. She cupped his face between her hands, kissing him on the cheek softly. “How’s your mother?” 

“Excited,” Lucien said, dimples flashing as Elain smiled up at him. “She’s been desperate to marry one of us off for centuries.” 

There was a bit of guilt eating at Elain, and it had been for some time. Knowing that there were lies between herself and Callista did not seem like a good way to start their relationship, but she had decided that if the Lady of Autumn ever learned the truth, she would simply find it amusing.

“You never even got me an engagement ring,” Elain accused playfully, watching with hungry eyes as Lucien took off his emerald jacket. The muscles on his arms tensed, a brown flash of skin at his throat making her blush. 

He seemed to notice, tossing the clothing carelessly onto an armchair. He rolled up the white sleeves of his shirt in practised gestures, revealing his forearms. “We don’t exchange rings in Autumn.” 

Elain cleared her throat, feeling heat travel to the tips of her pointed ears. She turned away from him, inching towards the wooden dresser near their bed. The comb Eris had gifted her when she had first arrived to the Forest House glimmered in the light of the candless, a glare shining on the sharpened point of each tooth. 

“Did you want me to get you one?” Lucien asked genuinely. She felt him searching the bond for any hint of whether she was upset, wanting to understand. 

Elain smiled to herself, thinking about the last ring she had been given. Being on the other side of the wall seemed like a lifetime ago. “No, I don’t think I want another.” 

She heard Lucien pause, waiting before he asked. “Do you still have that one?” 

There was kindness in his tone, no anger or possession over the idea of whether she had kept it or not. Elain shrugged, remembering how she had taken Graysen’s ring off one day when she had been gardening years before. She had crushed the cheap iron between two rocks and dusted the remains of the pretty pearl into the dirt next to the roses. 

Elain snorted, the sound unladylike but she found that she no longer cared about such things in Lucien’s presence. “I got rid of it a while ago.” 

He nodded, and she saw him through the mirror, considering. “We exchange necklaces,” he offered. “Everyone can see the rings you wear, but a necklace stays hidden beneath the collars of our clothes, just for us. Usually there are promises engraved onto the metal.” 

Elain hummed, tilting her head. “I like that.” She faced him, not realising how much closer he had gotten. She placed her hands onto the surface of the dresser behind her, feeling the edge digging into her hips. “They’d be made from gold?” 

“Always,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to her lips for the briefest of moments. “Gold is the colour of love here.” 

“I’m nervous,” Elain blurted suddenly, surprising herself with the admission. She gazed up at him, biting the inside of her cheek.

Lucien only smiled, the slightest tilt of his lips. “It’s not too late to call it off,” he replied with a shrug. 

“I don’t want to do that,” she shook her head, loose curls bouncing. She liked how insignificant he made it seem, as if he would simply do whatever she wished. “It’s just…what does a wedding even look like here?” 

Lucien raised an eyebrow. “You’re more worried about the ceremony than the fact that we’re actually going through with this?” 

“Being married to you doesn’t seem entirely awful,” she said sweetly, patting his arm. 

“How flattering,” he mumbled. She felt the way their bond practically sang at the contact. 

Elain giggled, searching his gaze. “So Eris walks me down the aisle, you’re standing at the altar with a priestess, and the reception begins. Then what?” 

“Then there’s a whole lot of praying to the mother,” Lucien said with a shrug. She motioned for him to go on, wanting him to continue. “The priestess is going to tie our wrists together, she’s going to pray a little more, and then we’ll officially be husband and wife.” 

Elain frowned, trailing her finger up his arm, toying with the fabric of his collar. “That doesn’t sound romantic at all.” 

Elain was certain she saw Lucien blush the slightest bit. “The romance starts when the couple is alone. Our court prefers small gestures, honest ones made in secrecy.” 

She decided that sounded very much like the Autumn Court she had briefly come to know. She pressed her hand flat against the nape of his neck, forcing him to come closer. Her voice became strained as an awareness took over her body. “So we go to the ceremony, we celebrate with the guests, and once we’re alone?” 

Lucien looked her up and down, and Elain tried to ensure scarlet did not stain her cheeks at the attention. His voice was low as he answered, “I suppose that’s up to you.” 

Elain swallowed, humming softly, threading her fingers through his silken hair. It fell in loose waves down his broad back.

“Usually that’s when we would exchange the necklaces, and take our vows,” Lucien said.

“When would we kiss?” Elain asked, desire making her forward. She knew he felt the same. 

“Up to you,” Lucien repeated softly, his breath fanned the curls framing her face. 

Elain got on the tips of her toes, arms curling around Lucien’s neck so she could press her lips to his. What started as a gentle kiss quickly shifted into something more desperate, especially as she moved her one hand so that it could trail along the bare skin just beneath his collar. 

Lucien held onto her waist tightly, keeping her pressed against the dresser. She arched into him, pressing herself more fully against him until there was no space left between them. 

Elain felt his sharp canines drag against her lower lip, gasping as he moved to place a rough kiss on her jaw. She threaded her fingers in his hair, keeping him near in case he thought she wanted him to pull back.

The bond thrummed softly, familiar, as Lucien turned his attention to the laces at her throat. He undid them swiftly, pulling at the strings carelessly, so he could trace his nose along her collar bones. When he bit the exposed skin of her breasts, Elain began to pull at his shirt, attempting to remove the fabric. 

“Lucien,” she breathed, his name a whisper as it fell from her mouth. He paused, shifting to look up at her. “I want you to…” the words caught in her throat, the growing ache between her legs fogging the rest of her senses and making her thoughts a mess. She rolled her hips in a gesture she hoped was enough to make him understand. At the feeling of his own arousal pressed against her core, he shifted forward to lean a hand onto the dresser. He pressed his forehead to her own, his eyes fluttering shut. He held himself like a coiled spring, every muscle tense. 

“Whatever you want,” he murmured. He smelled of crisp apples and summer mornings, the scent of his desire lingering in the air around them. “Whatever you want, Elain, I’ll give it to you.” 

“I want you,” she finished, kissing his cheek, her lips catching on the most brutal of his scars. The skin dipped and raised, but she did not feel it, merely noticing the way he seemed to relax at the action. 

With no warning he lifted Elain into the air, gripping her with steady arms as he winnowed them to the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she dragged him on top of her as she fell.  

Lucien leaned on his elbow, hovering above her, his legs between hers. He bunched the fabric of her nightgown in his one fist, kissing her deeply as he waited for her consent. Elain pulled the shirt from where it had been tucked into his pants, letting her fingers trail along the exposed skin of his sides. He groaned at the contact, slowly moving the skirt of her dress so it rested in a wrinkled heap above her knees. 

Elain lifted her hips in a silent invitation, needing him to be inside her, aching at the thought of it. Lucien had other plans, though, kissing and nipping at her through the fabric of her nightgown, inching lower as she whimpered. He was on his knees, and she pulled the cotton further, understanding dawning on her as she held his flame-filled gaze. 

Lucien’s auburn hair reflected the sparks of the fireplace, his golden eye whirring softly in the silence while his russet one drank in the sight of her. His mouth brushed the place where all her pleasure centred, and Elain held her breath as she waited for him to make his next move. His broad hands spread her thighs slightly, keeping her in place, making her shiver. 

When Lucien pressed the flat of his tongue against her, Elain moaned, the sound ripped from her. He lapped at her hungrily, encouraged by the whimpers she made. He pulled her close, and Elain hooked a leg over his shoulder, searching for the strands of his hair as she reached for him. 

My mate. 

The skillful way he slipped his tongue between her folds had her feeling feral, she moved her hips, already knowing she was close to falling over the edge. When Lucien pressed a finger against her entrance, Elain brought her hand to her mouth, biting at her thumb until she was sure there were marks. 

He moved inside her slowly, drawing out her pleasure as he continued to lick and kiss at her. Elain thrust up into his hand when he added a second finger, shattering completely when he groaned, the vibrations making her see stars. 

Elain was still dizzy when he gingerly unhooked the leg she had wrapped around him, easing back up into her arms. She tugged at his shirt. “Take these off,” she ordered weakly, reeling, needing more of him immediately. 

Lucien huffed a laugh as he kissed her, and she could taste herself on his tongue. She made a soft sound, cupping his face with her hand, tracing the shape of cheekbone. 

She felt the outline of his length pressed against her core, his pants separating them. “Lucien,” she whined, his name muffled as she tucked herself into the crook of his neck. 

There was a flash of golden light as he gave in to her demand, ridding them of their clothes effortlessly with his magic. Next time, Elain promised to herself, she would painstakingly undo the buttons of his jacket and the laces of his shirt, but she was glad there was nothing between them anymore. 

Elain was burning with desire, pulling him closer for another kiss. He kept his legs between her thighs, his body on top of hers overwhelming in the best way. She let her foot idly caress his calf, encouraging. 

Lucien dragged the tip of his length between her folds, angling himself at her entrance. He shifted slowly, carefully, as though he was worried about hurting her. It was so unbelievably kind, emotion crashing over her as she realised just how much the bond must be affecting him. He seemed entirely unbothered, a sharp contrast to the creature Elain had become seeing him so vulnerable. 

Lucien’s thrusts were slow, as he brought himself to the tip before pressing his hips fully against Elain each time. He kissed her between breathless gasps, soft sounds of pleasure falling from his lips as well. When he placed a hand between them, rubbing where she needed him most in rhythmic circles, she clenched her eyes shut. 

When Lucien’s movements became more erratic, she watched, wanting to see him fall apart because of her. He threw his head back on a groan, his thrusts not stopping until she felt as her walls clenched around him. Elain bit his shoulder, stifling a cry, noticing they were both slick with sweat. 

Lucien shifted, easing her onto his chest as they both caught their breath. Elain kissed his lips in small pecks, laughing softly as he wrapped his arms around her. He held her close, seemingly not wanting to let her go, and Elain decided she could have stayed with him forever. 

My mate.

They fell asleep, limbs tangled, breath mingling. Elain felt safe tucked against him.

At some point in the night, she reached for Lucien once more, finding herself back under him. The candles had gone out and there was nothing but embers in the fireplace, but Elain was consumed in flames, the bond between their souls alight as she and Lucien came together once more.