#if you barely change a storyline

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Hey! I’m wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where Thomas is intending for John to marry Y/N to unite the Lees and the Shelbys like the show, but when he sees her the first time, he changes his mind on John marrying her. Instead he marries her

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, altered storyline, Tommy’s a sweety, p in v , oral if you blink, altered storyline, name calling, slight misogyny

thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Tommy and John were sat awaiting your arrival, expecting you any moment now. John went on and on about how you were back in grade school, none of that really mattering to Tommy in the slightest.

The door opened, a brisk wind rolling in, pushing your hair in front of your face, your innocent vanilla scent flowing into the booth, as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably at your beauty and grace. Your tone was soft, and a smile as bright as the sun, he couldn’t allow his brother to marry you, not with a face like that. 

Dropping your bag near the booth, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, helping you pick up your belongings from the floor. When you thanked the man for helping, you locked eyes with him, an immediate attraction being drawn to you from those crystal blue eyes.

“Thomas Shelby, pleasure to meet you.” When the handsome, intimidating man spoke, a thrill of attraction and desire rushed through your veins like a hurricane, time suddenly seemed to be irrelevant, along with the man you were arranged to marry.

“Y/N L/N. Likewise.” He motioned for you to sit, offering one of the many cigarettes he carried in his suit. When you declined, mentioning how you don’t smoke Tommy was stunned and intrigued. 

Everyone smoked in the garrison, it was hard to find a woman that didn’t. 

Taking your seat beside John, you straightened your back, folding your hands gracefully, fully prepared for any questions that may come your way.

John smirked, glancing down at the clear cleavage, your bra barelt holdimg in you breasts, he nodded toward Tommy to take a glance but he’d never disrespect a woman in that manner. He simply began conversation, asking where you lived, went to school, even personal things such as a family matters. He was a fair man, offering the same respect back, his voice brooding but in a good, hospitable way.

“John, do you mind if I take lovely Y/N here to the bar and make her a drink.” John hadn’t barely heard Tommy speak as he was joking around with Finn. Simply waving you both off, they chattered on, making you contemplate on whether or not John was fit to be a husband.

Tommy noticed the quizzical expression on across your face, intending to turn that frown into a smile. 

“What’s it going to be my dear? Whiskey? Gin? No, something is telling me you are a rum and coke girl?” His eyebrows raised, furrowing together in curiosity with the expectation and hopefulness that he was right. You couldn’t contain the rose petal blush paint your cheeks, glancing down in embarassment and moving a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess. Some say I’ve been gifted with the ability to read people. You seem like a smart girl Y/N, what type of hobbies do you indulge in, surely everyone has at least one.” Settling your purse down, you watched as he worked effortlessly behind the bar, topping off you drink with a whip cream which surprised you, most people found it odd, never having seen anyone do so yourself.

“Oh I- I enjoy reading, and occasionally shopping, a girl can never have too many clothes.” Tommy chuckled, staying behind the bar and lighting a cigarette, in that moment he knew you were too good for John. He wasn’t a saint himself but he wad far more mature and caring compared to his little, reckless brother.

“Well from my perception, you look very endearing, and well, stop me if this is too much but you’re quite beautiful Y/N, my brother’s very lucky to have you.” You waved him off, giggling like a school girl but Tommy never took his eyes off of you, entranced by your illuminating smile, and adorable laugh. There was a silence for a moment when you realized that perhaps Tommy felt the same way you were feeling. The goosebumps on your skin, the heart beat between your thighs, trying to evade the temptation, the profound want to be in bed with that ever charming smile, and angelic blue eyes, and those lips, those plump, pale lips that you wanted to kiss right there.

How was this powerful man already under your skin in such a small amount of time, was it the way he took interest in your life? The way his subtle gaze seemingly never broke away from you? Or perhaps his way of words, speaking with finesse and confidence, never once stuttering.

John approached the bar breaking the evident friction between you two. Your smile faded when he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in closely to his body heat.

“How’s everything love? He isn’t scaring you is he?” You shook your head no, staying quiet and biting your lip attempting to hold back from laughing when Tommy raised his eyebrows challengingly, playfully as if he wasn’t making you more comfortable than his brother. 

“Alright well, Arthur and I are going to go to a few pubs, see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight before the big night, if you know what I mean Tommy.” He winked at his older brother who didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Had he really just said that right in front of you? Reassuring you’d be alright here and be heading home in a little bit, Johnny bid you both goodbye, finishing off your rum and coke on his way out. How rude.

Scoffing, Tommy made you a new drink.

“You’ll have to allow me to apologize for my brother he can be quite- What’s the word I’m looking for? Oblivious sometimes.” A wave of relief washed over you when you were alone with Tommy once more, even the patrons in the bar clearing out for the night.

The palpable tension in the room magnetized when his charismatic eyes remained on you, the heat building beatween your legs, but you weren’t going to be the one to just come out and say it. Like Tommy always did best, he took the initiative, clearing the silence.

“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, his eyes searing into your soul as he handed you your drink, his fingers grazing over the softness of your fingers.

Stunned by his question, you couldn’t deny the electric current of desire running through your veins. Your eyes searched one another in question, the intensity of his dominance protruding you very being.

“I-I suppose I would but- I must inform you I’ve never really-“

“There’s no need to fret Y/N. I’ll go slow, I wish to spend as much time with you as I can, if you’ll have me that is.” Were you really about to do this? This wasn’t the girl that you were but Tommy was so enticing, and held a clear attraction toward you. You’ve heard many stories of Thomas Shelby, yet you found yourself following him out to the car as he held an umbrella over you, not looking back once.

As soon as the bedroom door closed his lips were on you as he hoisted you up onto the dresser. Hands caressing your bare thighs while your legs wrapped around his torso, melting into his fiery touch. He tasted of whiskey and mint, smelling of a subtle yet timberwood like scent. Your tongues collided with one another in disparity, your nightgown strap sliding down carelessly in the process. 

“You are an enchantress, my darling.” You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing yourself up as you walked one another still embraced toward the bed.

Unclasping your bra, Tommy relished in that sight of your bare, nude breasts. They were everything he had imagined, soft, rounded, delectable enough that he couldn’t waste another moment with having his lips on your enlarged nipples. Sucking the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue repeatedly as you moaned from the touch.

“Feels good Tommy. I need more. Please.” Begging already? You felt pathetic but didn’t care and neither did he when he pulled you onto the bed.

“Your wish is my command, love.” He layed you down gently on the white sheets, your hands skimming his muscular chest as he fumbled hastily to take his shirt off before diving back into your lips with a deep desire. 

His eyes never left you, drawn into the perfection of your skin, the way your nude body gleamed poetically beneath him in the dim light. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to-“

“Yes. Yes I’m sure I don’t want to waste another minute, I need you in me Tommy.” That was all the reassurance he needed to hear. When he undid his belt and tugged his pants down his member popped up, perky and ready. He was long, and rather wide, partially shaven, but that didn’t matter to you. Tommy could see the nervous worry in your eyes when they landed on his cock, but he needed you to understand he wasn’t one to rush such a big, personal decision.

Laying his hand caringly on your cheek, he looked into your eyes, demanding your attention so you knew he wasn’t kidding.

“I know it may seem a bit frightening but I assure you, we go at your pace. If you want me to stop tell me, okay?” You nodded, and then again when he motioned toward your white laced panties. When he slid them down your legs, you turned your head in embarrassment, always holding a tremendous insecurity for your appearance downstairs. Tommy on the other was blown away at the sight of your untouched pussy. 

“May I?” You nodded for him to continue, fully trusting him. His tongue glided between your wet lips, devouring your sweet rose, taking you by surprise and shedding the insecurity from your skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of love. It’s perfect, and tastes exquisite.” You blushed as he continued to eat you, waiting for your nectar to slowly seep out, for him to start prepping you. When his finger entered you there was a slight discomfort, you’d never gone down there yourself but Tommy took his time and focused on your body language. After a few moments he entered a second finger, your tight walls surrounding his digits, coating them with your slick. There was a slight pleasurable feeling from feeling so full. He fingered you for a few minutes until he deemed you ready.

“Are you ready love?” You nodded that i was okay, and he kissed you once more reassuringly. He was slow upon entering, his cock aligned with your gaping, eager hole, the head resting there for a few seconds so you were aware of what was to come. He slowly pushed his head in, protruding your virgin walls, inch by inch. He stopped halfway in when you winced in pain, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Focus on my voice. The pain will dissipate soon, tell me when you want me to go further.” After a few seconds, you relaxed your muscles, nodding for him to continue. When he was all the way in there was a sharp shot of pain from being stretched from his cock and your cherry now being popped.

Your eye fluttered close as he slowly pumped in and out of you tenderly, taking his time until you were comfortable for him to fasten his pace. The pain slowly subsiding as your inner walls calmed. 

“Faster.” When you spoke it was but a whisper, Tommy understood. His shaft fucked into you quickly, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck Tommy! More… Oh fuck.” Your boobs jiggled with each powerful thrust, but you needed to be closer somehow. Sitting up and you straddled his lap never breaking from the bonding of his cock.

Your hands grazed over the muscular tone of his back, wanting, needing to be closer to him. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips curling over the wamrth of your bare skin, tongue twirling as he kissed you with profound passion. You continued to ride his cock, hips rotating and grinding, until an unexplainable, euphoric feeling began to build in your pussy. 

Tommy knew what was coming and held you close to him, wanting you to know he was right there, riding your orgasm out with you. Holding you caringly and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you crumbled and came undone with one another. After a moment, you lifted your head in a fucked out melody, running your thumb down his bottom lip and staring into his sapphire eyes. In that moment Tommy didn’t know what came over him, but he knew what had to be said. He couldn’t let you go.

“Marry me.” 

“What?” You were stunned by his statement but stayed folded against him lazily, your knees to weak to move from out of his lap.

“What about John?”

“He’ll understand. He will, but who would I be as a man be to fuck you and let a pretty girl like you fall from my hands. I can be a good husband if you give me the chance.” As your breathing slowed down, Tommy’s seed flowed from your deflowered pussy, wetting his thigh making you laugh and apologize before giving him answer but it didn’t take you long to think.

“I will marry you, I just ask we let John down gently. I don’t want to be the cause of his pain.” At that moment the door flew open, Tommy was quick to pick the comforter up from the floor and shield your nude body. He was ready to start yelling until he recognized the man standing in the door to be his brother.

“What the fuck is going on here? That’s my fucking wife to be!” John went to rip the blanket from you in a furious rage but Tommy was faster, standing up and pushing his brother back out into the hallway, nothing but a sheet around his waist hiding his cock. John could be heard screaming obscenities, mostly pointed at you as Tommy pushed him into another room.

“She’s a fucking whore! A disgusting tramp who knows no fucking boundaries! And you! You fucked my girl Tommy! You can’t just steal my bride to be. How fucked is that! No- How fucked is it that the people closest to you are the ones who take the knife and twist in your fucking back!” Tommy pulled open a drawer, lighting a cigarette and remaining calm as John continued to yell at him.

“You can have the fucking cunt! Go ahead, see what I care!” 

“She wasn’t right for you Johnny. Not with a face like that. Don’t take it personal eh? You’ll marry someone else instead. Besides knowing you as well as I do, you’ll be on to the next one in no time won’t you Johnny boy?” John rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose and closing his fists in anger before he punched a hole in the drywall. Tommy merely stood by the window, not feeling the least bit sorry as he knew his brother and he knew him well. Within a week he’d be passed it, forgotten about you and the betrayal of your short lived relationship. The only thing on Tommy’s mind was returning to you, surely John’s words had upset you immensely.

~

When the big day finally arrived, it was like a scene out of the movies. The reception was held in the backyard, the aisle covered in pebbles, white rose flowered bushes running down the perimeter of the wooden benches, the sun setting poetically behind the silver laced altar. 

Friends and families gathered round, coming together for your day since Tommy may or may not have threatened some to be there for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Now here you were seated with Ada while she was finishing up your makeup, and hair. 

“What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?” Ada chuckled, whimsically, looking at her work in the mirror, trying to lighten the nerves you were feeling, but that question alone seemed to make you more anxious.

“Getting a long I hope. I do feel sorry for John, I just hope he can forgive us. We didn’t mean to hurt him.” Ada remained friendly, never entering the crossfire of her brother unless absolutely necessary. She could only give you advice, and be there as not a friend but a sister should.

~

Tommy was suited in his formal attire, looking out all the people chatting near the garden when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” John entered the room, a delicate expression running over his face, showing he wasn’t here to cause any harm. Tommy nodded toward the desk, sitting in his seat and pouring his brother a glass of whiskey. 

“You probably need this more than me.” John chuckled sincerely, not knowing how to start this conversation. Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable, a look of guilt just barely visible in his eyes. Shaking his head, he joined his hands together, motioning toward the ring the bearer still had to come and retreive.

Upon opening the velvet box, John was in shock, the dazzling rock shimmering in the sunlight. The ring itself had to of been far more than John’s own personal cut from the company, which told him Tommy must have taken the time to close deals and make investments. In that moment he understood Tommy cared for you more than he ever did, he would have never spent that amount of money on you, or anyone for that matter. 

“She likes diamonds you know?” John shook his head indeed not knowing that small fact about you because he never took the time. He never had any interest or care to ask, to really get to know you. Closing the box, he frowned, reminiscing back to the fight just last week he had with you both. He was ashamed, and knew he could have handled it better.

“I came to apologize Tom. I acted immaturely and I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. You guys look happy, she chose the right man.” Tommy chuckled, lighting a cigarette and tossing one to John.

“All is forgiven brother but I’m not the one that requires an apology. You can be a good man John, I believe that I do. But with the right woman.” Tommy left it at that, believing in his brother that he would speak with you before the wedding was to begin. John nodded understandingly, knowing Tommy was right, leaving no room for him to argue. All this hatred, anger, where were these emotions getting him? No where.

Glancing down at his watch, he bid Tommy goodbye, making his way to your dressing room. 

-

A knock at the door startled you as you were putting on your heels, worried it was Tommy you sent Ada to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s John.” Ada turned to face you for answer. When you nodded she opened the door and excused herself from the room.

“Wow.” John was impressed with the workings of Ada, you looked truly breath taking, nothing he’s ever seen before in a woman. Smiling sweetly, you motioned for him to sit.

He twiddled his thumbs, nervously searching for the right words, but he didn’t really know where to start, so he went with the first thought in his mind.

“I’m sorry. I was out of my fucking head speaking about you like that. My brother, he’s a good man, the better man. Besides we never really had a connection did we?” You shook your head no in agreement, thankful John came to apologize, but you also shared your feelings of how you and Tommy should have just sat down with him before anything happened. He accepted your apology, but noticed you were due outside in five minutes. Bidding you farewell, he wished you luck and told you, you’d make a great wife and Tommy is lucky to have you, he needed you.

Ada knocked on the door, informing you it was time. Taking a deep breath you met your father at the patio door, a mixture of happiness and excitement protruding your ever bone.

Family and friends stood up, your mother crying from how beautiful and elegant you appeared. When you reached the alter, a singular tear swam down Tommy’s cheek as he smiled widely when he removed your vail. You were stunning, breathtaking, everything he’s ever dreamed about. John stood by his side as a groomsmen, happy to finally see his older brother smile for once. As the vows were exchanged. The ring beamed with an exquisite beauty, your eyes brimming with tears when Tommy placed the expensive jewelry on your finger, claiming you as his wife. 

“Tommy it’s beautiful.” You were hoping and praying your makeup wasn’t running down your cheeks. As vows were exchanged, the man motioned that it was time to kiss the bride. Tommy rested his hands on your cheeks, time stopping when he placed his lips on yours as the man announced you to be Mrs. Tommy Shelby.

[wonysugar]

close the door | hanni pham

synopsis : you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she.

genre : fluffy smut!

pairing : non-idol!hanni x gf!femreader

tags : they’re in love your honor, lots of kissing and making out, cuddling, l-bombs, top!femreader, bottom!hanni, they’re both virgins, fingering, clit play, nipple play, neck kissing, hanni’s dogs are mentioned twice lawl, lots of comfort, lots of consent! they’re literally just lovey dovey girlfriends having sex for the first time aheheh

warnings : none :]

word count : 2.5k

a/n : if you’re rereading this and thinking “hey the synopsis changed and there wasn’t an author’s note before!!” well you’d be right I POSTED THIS IN A RUSH I’M SO SORRYYFKEJF

anyways!! this is just to say that this fic is inspired by the lovely writer that is sorry for tagging you twice ahh @facefullofsadness’s fic right over here :] sooo GO READ THAT FIRST! it’s truly lovely and i really enjoyed reading it, hence why i wrote thisskfke. thank you for readingg<33

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

you would die for your girlfriend, actually, even if you only started dating barely a few months ago. who could blame you? that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends prior to your relationship for so, so, so long. it simply started with a ‘hi! my name’s hanni! what’s yours?’ from her part at the innocent age of seven and just like that, years later, you guys were still inseparable. 

so really, your life-long friendship and months-long relationship were both with the same gorgeous and outgoing girl, and the only thing distinguishing those two was the label you used to describe them.

“bro i genuinely don’t understand why he doesn’t just… run away. cause— get this, there’s obviously a murderer in his house right? and what does he decide to do about that? just stay in there. like, okay.. like i’m aware they needed plot but lord, i don’t know at least make it somewhat realistic you know what i mean—“ was what your girlfriend said, on her bed as she sat down in between your legs and leaned her back against you, her head facing forward and resting on your shoulder.

you simply nodded along to her words as you played with her hair, trying your hardest to stay focused on the piece of media before you whilst also paying your utmost attention to her, despite her constant ranting and criticizing of the entire movie. you, having originally liked the film, were now conflicted about your opinion on it. it’s not like she was wrong, her very heavy criticism had to have come from somewhere, after all, but you couldn’t help but slightly appreciate the storyline. so, you weren’t really sure what you felt about it anymore.

one thing you were certain of, however, 

was that your girlfriend looked really good while passionately rambling. like, way too good. she had tied her dark hair into a high ponytail, it also looked wavy due to the rain that was pouring on you guys earlier, her messy bangs fell perfectly onto her forehead. and her smile? it always looked perfect. she always looked perfect. 

and since you apparently weren’t hiding your admiration well enough, she very quickly noticed it.

she giggled teasingly. her voice sweet like honey, her australian accent more prominent than usual, she spoke up, “hello?” before full-on laughing, “were you even listening to me?”

you could only kiss her, that seemed like the only appropriate response in the heat of the moment. she, of course, kissed back just as lovingly before pulling away moments after, a curious and confused look on her face. 

“no seriously, what is up with you?” she kept teasing, smiling stupidly as she kept her gaze lingering on yours for the following seconds, her eyes unconsciously drifting to your lips. “you look stupid.”

“and you look really pretty.” was what you whispered back to her, earning a shy smile and an exaggerated eye roll from her. immediately, you made your lips come into contact with hers again. it felt as if the world would stop spinning if you didn’t, like a slowly growing urge to keep touching her suddenly came over you and you needed to fill it.

“so.. so pretty.” you mumbled, so quietly that it was almost to yourself, before going back in. you allowed yourself to make the kiss deeper and slid her tongue across her soft lips as you demanded entrance. you could hear her let out slight noises, she clearly was not expecting you to do anything of the sorts, at least not right now. she was a tad bit confused, but let you in, who in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to kiss their girlfriend? immediately, your hands wrapped around her waist whilst you continued kissing her lovingly, your tongue roaming every part of her mouth.

it didn’t take long before your hands started naturally reaching under her top, caressing on her tummy and progressively going higher with each sound she let out.

you pulled away, slightly worried of going too far, “c-can.. can i continue, hanni?”

you were scared, terrified, even! despite knowing each other for years, you’d only been dating for a few months; those are two completely different things! it’s not like you see your completely platonic best friend’s naked body every tuesday. even then, despite dating, you still haven’t gotten that stage of the relationship. and on top of that,

the two of you were a proper pair of virgins. you had no idea what you were doing, and neither did she. you didn’t want to seem like an inexperienced loser to her, you wanted to take care of her and make her feel good. what if that didn’t happen? what if you made it awkward between the two of you?? it was nerve-racking.

as if barging into your mind and reading your thoughts, wanting to reassure you, she grabbed your hand in a gentle manner before nodding. then, she spoke up, “can you close the door?”

“there’s.. nobody home, though?”

she giggled, “oh i know, it’s just that i don’t want the dogs to potentially walk in on this.”

you groaned dramatically, laughing and insisting that you were too lazy to get up and that her dogs wouldn’t understand the situation if they even walked in. she, in response, just tapped your knee with a cheeky smile, encouraging you to stand up.

“come on y/n, close the door. think about milly and mia; think about their innocence!” she exaggerated.

after playfully hitting her arm and laughing along with her, you got up, proceeded to close and lock the door like she asked you to and eventually walked back to her bed, sitting back on it and positioning yourself the way you originally were, her back to you again. 

“happy?” you asked in a fake arrogant tone.

she hummed, radiant, “yes, very happy.” before turning her head just right and kissing you again.

eventually back to the original rhythm of the kiss, you placed your hands back on her stomach again, slowly caressing and teasing higher and higher with time. once you reached her bra, you proceeded to impatiently unhook it, immediately taking it off of her.

her breathing got heavier with each second that passed, partially due to nervousness, probably. you’d be lying if you said that wasn’t the case for you too. the more your hands carefully roamed her body, the more self-conscious you got, you truly had no idea what you were doing. 

then, as if something in your mind clicked, you had an idea. what if you just did to her whatever you enjoyed doing to yourself in moments like these? that could work.. right? maybe??

you glided your hand upwards, your finger lightly grazing her nipple. in response to the sudden movement, a lewd sound accidentally escaped from her pretty lips, her breath hitching. that sound was a small moan.

a small one, barely audible, yet it was still enough for you to feel the activation of every single neuron residing in your brain.

then suddenly, it’s like the concept of making love to her wasn’t as nerve-racking as it originally was.

“s-sorry..” she apologized, seeming slightly embarrassed.

you kissed her cheek, reassuring her, “don’t apologize, i wanna hear you.”

despite it being an accident, she seemed to enjoy the sensation of your hand on her chest, so you went back to teasing her tits and gently groping them before you eventually asked, “is it okay if i go further..?”

nodding in a keen manner, she swallowed her saliva, then breathed out her response, “yes. yes keep— keep going. please.”

well shit! even if you wanted to stop, it’s not like you could, not with how good she sounded pleading for you.

not wasting any more time, you proceeded to separate one of your hands from her chest and quickly slid it downwards; to the band of her sweatpants. now, of course, your other hand was still in its original place, working its magic, but you wanted her to feel more. so much more.

you wanted to convey every surge of affection you violently felt for her into pleasure. and, if there was one thing you surely knew how to do, it was kissing her. 

so, you started kissing on her neck, which she didn’t expect whatsoever, and still heavily concentrated on the hand you had on her breast. then, you pulled on the sleeve of her tee just enough to expose her shoulder and moved your mouth towards it, nipping and gently licking it.

your hand now fully slipped into her pants, you teased her entrance through the fabric of her underwear as you kept kissing her naked shoulder. you listened to her attentively and took mental notes of her reactions; so far, her breathing got heavier, her thighs slightly clenched around your hand and she was now frequently biting her lip. 

plus, her panties were wet. 

did all of that mean you were doing good? …perhaps it did!

and did her drenched underwear make you short circuit? perhaps it did as well!

“d-d’you feel okay?” you asked, before going back to slowly kissing her shoulder. she threw you a quick glance, chest heaving up and down. 

“s-so okay.” she giggled.

her smile being contagious, you found yourself doing the exact same thing, content with the answer she gave you.

soon enough, you traced your finger up her clothed slit before eventually sliding it into the undergarment she wore, making her shudder. after what felt like an eternity, you could feel her slick coat your digits from one swipe of the finger. 

it was tantalizing.

growing impatient, you quickly yet carefully settled your middle and ring finger on her swollen clit, making slow circular motions on it, looking at her in the process. full on whimpering, this time, she stared back at you, no longer embarrassed. she wanted to let you know how good you were making her feel, hence why she was getting louder with each movement you made, and it filled you with enough confidence and adrenaline to gently push her head towards you, leaning in for a kiss.

thankfully, she kissed you back, deeply at that, her eyes closed and her quiet moans muffled.

you pulled away after a few moments, “tell me if it hurts, okay?” you reminded her. she simply nodded, brain all fuzzy from arousal.

she grabbed your other hand and intertwined her fingers with yours. “g-go slowly.” she whispered.

“i will.” you affirmed.

slowly and gently, you slid your fingers into her core, making sure not to go too fast or too rough. thankfully, the wetness was making it easier for you, and probably for her as well. every time that your girlfriend’s breath hitched, that her hand gripped harder on yours or, hell, every time that her eyes closed, you stopped in your tracks and double checked to see if you were hurting her, so it took a little while for your digits to fully penetrate her. 

fortunately, she assured you that you weren’t, in fact, hurting her. some moments just felt more comfortable than others, is all.

once they were fully in, you gave her time to get used to the feeling, still double checking on her state every now and then. after a few deep breaths, she nodded.

“i-i’m ready.”

you started to pump your fingers in and out of her, taking in all of her as your speed slowly increased as time went on. naturally, as more time passed, you felt the urge to make her feel good get even stronger.

that’s when you decided to increase the pace, your fingers curling on just the right spot inside her, pumping faster and faster as your thumb played with her clit.

“is this okay baby—” you asked.

“f-fuck— yes y/n that feels good—“ was what she moaned out, cutting you off. a feeling of bliss progressively and clearly overtaking her whole body.

when you tried to look at her despite only being able to see her side profile, you could’ve sworn you saw an angel. her cheeks were slightly tinted with a pinkish color and her eyebrows were upturned, her whole face contorted with pleasure, her skin glistening with sweat. her eyes hooded with lust, hanni looked down at herself and attentively watched as you played with her. your fingers swimming in her slick, navigating in her folds the way a skilled sailor would the vast ocean, it was hypnotizing, and she realized how this was probably the way you got yourself off on a regular day, and she couldn’t help but moan at both the thought and the sensation. 

you made her feel good, you made her feel happy, loved. you always did.

amidst the chaos that was her messy bed, the setting somehow looked better than every piece of artwork you’d ever seen combined. the bed creaked ever so slightly, and she looked and sounded so beautiful, especially with the way the sun set directly on her parted lips at that moment. 

you were certain that your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“i love you so much, hanni.” you softly said, kissing the back of her ear whilst you kept fingering her. she couldn’t form proper words, so she simply tightened her grip on your hand more, as a way to say it back.

then, once you picked up a stable pace for a few minutes, her back arched against you, her breathing getting heavier, practically panting. her hand’s grip on yours getting tighter, you felt her hot breath hit your neck once she settled her head into the crook of it.

“y/n— baby i think i’m- i’m— mmh—“

that was the moment she reached climax, letting out a long and loud moan as she rode out her orgasm, bucking her hips against your hand before smashing her lips onto yours. quietly, she let a few i love yous slip out of her mouth between kisses, her hand resting on your head, fingers intertwined with your soft hair. 

you particularly made sure to say it back to her every time.

you pulled out your fingers and took your hand out of her pants. still coming down from her high, she smiled at you with tired eyes and kissed your cheek. you smiled back, looking at her lovingly.

“d-did i do okay?” 

she giggled, “..are you seriously asking me that? do you not see me right now?” 

you raised your eyebrows, playful, “for all i know you were faking it.”

“yeah, actually.. i was faking it, especially with how wet i was from the whole thing. aren’t i such a good actor y/n? it’s almost like i legitimately came really hard—”

“shut up.” you elbowed her, laughing. she gave you a cheeky smile before she got up from the bed, grabbed a pair of new underwear from her drawer and opened the bedroom door, heading straight towards the living room to pet her dogs after changing. 

“hey y/n?”

“hm?”

“…wanna bake brownies in a bit?” 

“uhm.. yes? what kind of question is that?? let me just go wash my hands first.” you replied, getting up and walking towards the bathroom before adding on, “unless you wanna eat very unsanitary cum-buttered brownies, of course—“

you heard her contagious laugh from across the hallway, making you smile to yourself, “you’re fucking disgusting— go wash your hands, you weirdo!”

oh how you loved your girlfriend.

[wpdarlingpan]

will you do a platonic yandere older brother coriolanis (I think that’s how u spell it lol) snow x a sibling! reader ? and he kidnapped them? also it can be fem or gn. have a good day/night!!

I love this idea! And thank you so much I also hope you have a good day/night.

I’m open to doing a part 2 since this is somewhat short if enough people like this storyline. I’m curious on where it could go.

His Little Snowflake ❄️

Platonic Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Younger Sister

Female Pronouns

Word count: 1.1 K

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, mentions of murder

Coriolanus wasn’t an only child, albeit he was the oldest. He had a little sister named Y/N. She wasn’t as known as he was, after all he was the heir to the snow name and ‘fortune’ so it wasn’t up to her to preserve the name.

When Corio found out he was going to have a little sibling, he was indigent. He knew he would keep all of the rights being the oldest but the idea of having to share with a sibling was torture in his mind.

That was until he saw them.

His mother died in childbirth after having the baby. When his father came home with her, he was prepared to loath the baby that took away his mother, even if she wasn’t the best one.

But one look into the baby’s eyes something shifted.

Corio was the one to look after his sister when his father passed away.

Tigres would always offer to help while Grand’mam claimed she was too old to care for her.

He didn’t care, this was His sibling. His responsibility. His little snowflake.

When the 10th annual hunger games began and he was forced to mentor, it took up some time. With having to write the proposal for the Doctor and being a mentor to Lucy Gray he barely had time for his little sister. He blamed everyone else for the situation. If a teacher kept him after class? That teacher would have something unfortunate happen to them.

He could just give up but he was obsessed with his little sister getting the life she deserved so he had to win the money by any means possible.

Everyday when he got home from all of his duties, he’d go to her room.

“Corio!” She squealed happily running into his open arms. She would jump as high as she could to try and wrap her arms around his neck but it would often end up with him having to bend over as she wrapped around him like a koala.

“Hello Snowflake, I miss you today.” Thats what he’d always say. That fact that he missed her was true but he would also say it to prompt her to say it back. After all didn’t she miss him just as much?

“I missed you too!” Then she’d ramble about her day to him. Not noticing as his scowl as she talked about her friends since the second she’d look up at him he’d change it to a soft smile.

All you needed was each other and he firmly believed that. Maybe Tigres on the occasion when absolutely necessary but she was a cousin. You are his little sister.

“You need to distance yourself from them, it sounds like they are bad influences”

“That doesn’t sound very nice of them, I think you should stop talking to them.”

“A boy? You’re too young. They’ll old hurt you. Do you want to be hurt? Don’t you trust me?”

Those are just a few things he’d say to try and turn the favor back to him through gaslighting and guilt tripping. Of course it always worked. Y/N loved her older brother, she couldn’t not trust him.

With all of the cheating Coriolanus did to make Lucy Gray win it wasn’t that much of a surprise he was caught, at least to everyone else but him. He was too focused on winning that the idea of getting caught was child’s play.

Now they wanted to take him away from you. He simply couldn’t allow that to happen. The idea of not seeing you every minute was distressing to him but for 10 years as he is sent away to the districts? He would kill everyone in his path back to the capital.

So in order to prevent that he did what he does best, manipulate.

First of all he had to get Y/N.

~*~

Bursting into her room he saw her where she usually was, sitting at her desk coloring.

“Y/N!” He spoke urgently as he ran around to pack some clothes “Get ready. We need to leave.”

Y/N saw the panicked look on his face he tried to hide, making her panic about what was happening. Or course she wasn’t told about his treachery, he would murder whoever painted him in anything other than a perfect light to his little sister.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later, we are going away for awhile.”

“What about Tigres? Grand’mam?”

“They are staying here.”

She was in shock, leaving her family? Her young mine couldn’t process the fact even if she would be with her older brother. It was natural to be scared of change.

And this would change everything.

“I can’t leave them!” Coriolanus was delusional and would hope they would accept to leaving but he planned for the rare possibility of them not.

“Please don’t make me do this the hard way. You want to be with your older brother right? It’s the two of us against the world remember?” She nodded with tears in her eyes as she hugged her little tiger stuffed animal “I have to leave, and I’m not leaving without you. I love you.”

“But-but” Y/N began to stutter out but Corio knew he was losing a lot of time. So he grabbed some sleeping powder he found in Dr. Volumnia’s office and lightly blew it into her face as he caught her as she began to sway on her feet.

“What’s happening-“

“You’ll be okay I swear, we will be okay. We just need to go away for awhile.”

~*~

He somehow convinced everyone he came across that he was allowed to bring her with him. Sure it took some convincing for some but the way he could talk circles around people make them give in pretty quickly.

Then he paid the transfer worker money to send him to district 12.

In no way did he trust Lucy Gray with his little sister, but he didn’t want you to see him killing people nor did he want her left alone for any of those district people to get ahold of and poison her little mind. But he didn’t have a choice so he had to go to the person who is his only option. After all her oh so kind heart wouldn’t allow her to get hurt. That is if Lucy Gray was still alive.

When Y/N woke up she was in the arms of her brother as he brought her into his individual room in the barracks due to his higher standing.

“Where are we?”

“Welcome to district 12 my little snowflake. Nothing can get between us now.”

And he meant it. Even if it meant getting a few people killed along the way and sending his best friend to the hanging tree after he suggested she return back to the capital.

[honestly-mad-person]

YOU'RE MY SECRET

｡･:*˚:✧ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡･:*˚:✧ genre: smut (oral sex, vaginal sex, moans, orgasm, wet sounds, first sex)

｡･:*˚:✧ word count: 7,7K (The biggest story, yeah)

｡･:*˚:✧ a/n: When I was writing the story, I couldn't throw away the storyline of Chapter 8. How does he feel when he sees MC? Is he afraid of losing her again or will his unwavering love for her guide him through the stars so that your eyes can meet again?

In this story, I tried to describe the MC's inner feelings as if it were familiar to her. It's like it was there, but she can't remember. She'll never remember.

I want to answer MS's question about his experience on behalf of Xavier about his chastity:

"I imagined you many times, I imagined your body, and I studied a lot to fulfill the most intimate desires of your soul at the right time."

In a way, he was virginal. But next to you, he could not restrain his predatory nature.

This has nothing to do with the original character and is entirely my take on the situation.

Enjoy your reading! See ya next time!

The sun outside the window was already sinking below the horizon, filling the living room with a warm, golden color.

Looking at the cityscape, your gaze shifted to the blond haired boy sitting across from you at the table. There was a rustle and his fingers turned the page of the book. Silence reigned in the room again, broken only by barely audible breathing.

Looking at his face, as always serious, you were not thinking about your book, but about how attractive he is. His features seemed softer in the evening sunlight.

Xavier's eyes smoothly moved from one side of the page to the other, absorbing the text and occasionally they closed for a moment. Whenever this happened, his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

Propping his head with his hand, he was constantly reading a book he had recently bought in a bookstore. You had one of his personal books from bookshelf.

The sight of him made the corners of your lips turn up. An outstanding young man. An experienced hunter. And part-time your boyfriend. However, there was something strange about him.

Somehow, you were watching a movie in the evening, cuddling. When your hand accidentally landed on his thigh, near his private area, he winced and looked down to tell you that your hand was not where it should be and asked him to remove it.

Confused, you looked at him. Up close, you could see how he shyly looked away, and the tips of his ears flashed a blush.

Suddenly, a thought flashed in your head. Did he have someone before you?

It would be awkward to ask him about it. Besides, he never told you everything directly. You should have asked him about what interested you in him, as Xavier immediately changed the subject.

Although you were officially a couple, there was nothing beyond kissing. Xavier never even kissed you deeply. Just sweet and innocent kisses on the lips.

Today, you wanted to know the truth. The truth that he tries so hard to hide from you.

In a moment you realize that his blue eyes are watching you. Coming back to reality, you blinked a few times.

— What? – asked Xavier, keeping his hand on the page he was just reading.

— What are you talking about? – you asked, not understanding the reason for this question.

— You… – he said quietly, drawing your gaze to his lips. – You’re looked at me...

— Indeed?

— Yes, – nodding his head, his lips barely parted. – Do I have something on my face?

— No, nothing like that, – you continued with a smile. – You just look even more beautiful in the evening light.

Hearing these words, Xavier looked away in embarrassment towards the window. He does it again. He tries not to look at you when you make him blush.

— Hey, Xav, – you called softly, tilting your head to the side.

— The sun is setting beautifully, – he said absently, without turning his head.

Looking at the horizon, you saw a really beautiful picture.

The sun was already half visible, and the sky surrounding it exploded with incredibly beautiful colors, iridescent from yellow-hot to purple. The clouds shone in the evening light, shimmering with a pearly sheen.

Suffocating at this beauty, you didn't immediately realize that you had fallen into another Xavier trap.

Mentally slapping yourself on the forehead, you turned your gaze back to him. Predictably, seizing the moment, he plunged back into his reading. It's tricky. Very clever.

— Xavier, – you said confidently, breaking the silence.

— Yes? – raising his head, he looked at you as if nothing had happened before.

— Tell me, do you have experience with women? – directly asking, you leaned towards him, placing your hands on the table. – And don't even think of running away from it.

— What do you mean by… – Xavier fell silent, looking into your eyes, fascinated by their beauty and brilliance.

— What I said, – was the answer immediately. – Have you kissed a woman for real?

Xavier was silent. His eyes slowly wandered over your face, sometimes going down, then going up. Soon, he spoke.

— Yes, with you – his look changed a little, but you couldn't understand what was wrong with him. – To be more precise, today at lunch and before going to the shopping center.

Stunned by this, you let out a heavy breath, forcing your eyebrows raised in surprise to fall back to their usual place.

— I'm not asking about myself, but in general, – clarifying, your gaze was fixed on him.

A shadow of embarrassment fell on his face and touching the tip of his nose with his fingers, he reluctantly answered.

— Not sure it happened to anyone but you…

— Not sure if it wasn't?

Under such pressure, Xavier looked away again. This time, not only his ears were red, but also his cheeks.

You got tired of this uncertainty, so you got up from the table, pushing your chair back.

A new noise caught Xavier's attention and he tensed up noticeably as he looked at you as you approached him. He mechanically pushed his chair back, sitting facing you.

— What?... – he didn't have enough time to finish his question, because the tips of your fingers touched his jaw, gently tracing the skin to his chin.

This small action made him lift his head and look into your eyes, which you could see the sunset in if you looked closely.

— Let's play a game, Xavier, – you said quietly, as if afraid that someone else might overhear your secret conversation. – The game is called "Don't look away."

— I don't like the name of this game anymore, – replied Xavier, feeling the warmth of your fingers and realizing that he won't be able to protect himself from you for long.

— Look into my eyes and don't look away, okay? – your fingers started moving again, releasing from his chin and barely touching his skin, moving down his neck, making him shudder briefly.

— What are you doing? – he said quietly, again visibly blushing.

His eyes continued to look into yours. A slight shiver went through your body at the realization of what exactly you wanted to do.

The tips of your fingers gently touched Xavier's neck and in the silence of the kitchen, in which there was still the smell of lemon cookies baked by you at the request of the owner of the apartment, you could clearly hear his uneven breathing.

Lowering your gaze, you looked at your fingers exploring every inch of his skin. Noticing that Xavier turned his head to the side, you sharply raised your eyes to his face.

— Xavier, I can look away and you can't, – you remarked, waiting for your eyes to meet again.

— I don't understand why you're doing this, – he asked quietly, clearing his throat.

You felt the vibration of each word with your fingers, shifting your gaze from his eyes to the fingers resting on his neck.

— I want to play with you, – you answered, continuing to move downwards, following your hands, which were kissing down from the neck to the chest.

You felt the soft fabric of his homemade sweater, which he didn't wear almost every day. Sometimes, you saw him wearing other clothes. You had some doubts if Xavier knew how to use a washing machine, but today you could smell the pleasant smell of air conditioner all day. It was hard not to keep from poking my nose into his chest and inhaling that magical smell of freshly washed clothes.

A heart beat under your fingers. It rattled a little faster than it should have, but you chalked it up to the closeness between you.

As your hands dropped below your chest, his hand grabbed your wrist. Looking up, you looked into his eyes.

Confused, he looked at you.

— Stop, – he said, still holding your hand.

— Xavier, – you said, bringing your face closer to his. – Don't move.

His eyes widened when you got close enough to barely touch his lips with yours. His weak breath touched your lips, fearing to somehow harm you.

Smirking the corner of your lips, you closed your eyes as you kissed him. Your wrist was squeezed tighter, but ignoring it, you touched the back of his neck with your other, free hand. A tremor was felt under your fingers. Your heart skipped a few beats and moaning softly against his lips, you pulled away from him, breaking the kiss.

Taking in Xavier's eyes, filled with confusion and curiosity, you smiled again.

— Do you want more? – you asked and received in response his silent nod of the head. – Then let go of my hand and sit tight, okay?

Your voice sounded gentle, as if you were asking your dog to obey your commands.

Fingers reluctantly parted, letting go of your wrist and placing his hands on his lap, Xavier continued to look into your eyes.

— Good boy, – you purred contentedly, connecting your lips again in a kiss.

Placing your hands around his neck, your fingers slowly trailed up her rear, causing another wave of shivers. Plunging them into your hair, you lightly squeezed it. From this, you felt a barely audible moan on your lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest again, causing the tips of your ears to light up.

This innocent, at first glance, reaction of Xavier caused you to have the dirtiest thoughts about him. The way you controlled him, the way he responded to your touch, all of it made the warmth of his stomach rise.

Unable to resist, your tongue defiantly ran between his lips, demanding that he let you inside.

Fidgeting, Xavier hesitated for a few seconds, but after your fingers tightened on his hair, he obediently let you pass.

A moan of pleasure echoed through the kitchen and you weren't sure which one of you had created it.

Your tongue explored new territory, teasing with his tongue. Xavier didn't respond to your actions, giving you the upper hand in this little game. It made you even more convinced that he was a virgin. Soon, you felt a weak and unsure response from him.

Surprised, you broke the kiss and pulled away from him, breathing heavily.

— Did I… do something wrong? – he asked innocently, looking into your eyes.

When Xavier returned your kiss, you felt the air in your chest suddenly run out and you felt a little dizzy.

Looking down at his hands, which were clenched into fists, you felt dizzy again. For unknown reasons, you wanted to touch them, so that they would gently caress your cheeks, neck, chest, stomach, and even in your mind you imagined these fingers buried deep inside you.

Your body responded to such thoughts with an appropriate reaction. Blushing, you looked up at Xavier and looking into his eyes, you felt your underwear getting wet.

— Oh, you're blushing, – he remarked in his voice, still looking at you.

— It's hot, that's all, – dismissing his words, you were about to remove your hands, until suddenly he grabbed your wrist again.

Looking at him with a dumb question, you watched as he pressed your palm to his cheek, staring at you.

— Please don't go, – he whispered softly, rubbing against your hand, holding it gently with his hand. – Did I do something wrong?

Your brain shut down. Xavier looked at you with the same "puppy" look. Mixed with your lewd thoughts about him and the way he was gently rubbing his cheek against your hand, it made you freeze in place, not giving you a chance to resist such critical damage.

There was a sharp sting in your chest and you, red as a tomato, pulled out your hand, pressing it to your chest.

— Xavier, you! – suffocating from his mercy and the shame of your thoughts, you continued to mumble something incoherent. – Bamn…

Xavier just tilted his head to the side, looking sadly at you, still holding his hand where your hand was for a few seconds.

After giving you some time to cool down, Xavier reached out a hand in your direction, not daring to touch you.

You looked at his fingers, then at his face. He wasn't looking at you anymore. His gaze, filled with sadness and pity, was fixed on his outstretched hand, which seemed to be trying to grasp something in the air.

Your heart throbbed again and, exhaling, you took his hand. He suddenly looked up, looking into your eyes.

— Just a little more, – you said and, approaching him, stood between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His head was at the level of your stomach. Still hesitant, he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against yours.

With a smile on the corner of your lips, your fingers gently scratched his head, going through his hair, while your gaze was directed at the already faded sky.

— I'm sorry if I did something wrong, – Xavier suddenly muttered, pulling you away from the view.

— No, you didn't do anything wrong, – you immediately assured, blushing again at your own thoughts.

A few more kisses like that and you could really pounce on him as if you were hungry for a plate of hot and delicious food.

You were drawn to him like a magnet and it was difficult for you to resist this force. You understood this best when Xavier returned your kiss.

— Then why did you stop touching me? – he asked again in his innocent voice.

It made you shudder. Fingers froze.

— Well, it's hard to say... – trying to find words, you mumbled under your breath. – Well...

— I want more, – came to your ears as Xavier's hands fell on your thighs and gently, but firmly, sat you on his knee.

Squealing, you looked into his eyes and wanted to pour him a whole wagon and a small bucket of outrage about this, but when you met his gaze, you froze. He seemed normal, but something was still wrong.

You saw in his eyes a vague reflection of yourself in the evening rays. The longer you looked, the stronger the attraction to him became. His eyes, like a black hole, pulled you deeper and deeper.

You were pulled out of this trance by his hand, which touched your burning cheek.

— You're looking at me like that again… – Xavier said in a quiet and calm voice.

— H-how? – you asked, touching his palm with your fingers.

— As if there is something on my face, – shrugging his shoulders, he gently stroked his cheek with his thumb. – So… are you going to continue your game or not?

Biting your lip, you felt your face flush again.

— Why do you blush so often? – asked Xavier, looking into your face.

— It's not as important as the fact that… – you paused and exhaled, relaxing. - I don't want to play anymore...

Your words madeXavier freeze. Even his stroking stopped. He looked into your eyes silently.

— I don't want to play with you, I want to kiss you again, – clarifying, your palms touched his face and your lips quickly found what they needed so much. Its warmth.

The last line of defense was destroyed. What you had planned as a scouting mission to get information turned into the fact that you couldn't tear yourself away from his lips.

They seemed so familiar, so warm and welcome that it was really hard to stop even for a second.

Xavier pushed you away ever so slightly, but still gently, occasionally breaking the kiss to give the two of you a chance to take a few gulps of fresh air before your lips pressed together again.

Losing your head from the desire this boy was awakening in your body, you melted every time your tongues intertwined in a passionate dance. He absorbed you, absorbed like a black hole absorbs light, without letting it out.

The only thing you longed for, what you reached for at this moment, was Xavier. His lips, so hot from many kisses, his tongue, which was already confidently responding to you, his hands, which hugged you with a firm grip, pressing you to him.

Your knee touched his groin and moaning into his lips, you felt that you weren't the only one turned on. Breaking away from him with difficulty, you looked at his face, stained with blush. You were both breathing heavily as you looked at each other. Xavier didn't move, as if he was afraid that you would run away if he made even one move.

Your hand rested on his chest and slid down. Looking into your eyes, Xavier barely furrowed his brows, still breathing heavily.

— What are you... – he didn't have time to finish the sentence, as a moan that broke from his lips resounded in the room. – Damn…

His eyebrows came together at the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, he leaned towards you, resting his head on your shoulder. Your other hand rested on his back, stroking his spine with the tips of your fingers. You heard a muffled moan again as your other hand traced his cock through the fabric of his house pants. What you felt confused you a little. You didn't expect that Xavier would turn out to be… a little bigger than you imagined.

You tried to imagine him in your mouth, you thought about whether he would at least enter.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by another moan and an arm wrapping around your waist, digging his fingers firmly into your side. Taking a deep breath, you felt dizzy and tinnitus again. Tomorrow you will definitely find bruises from his fingers on your body.

— Xavier, – you whispered into his ear, as if he were a child seeking refuge on his mother's chest. – Do you hear me, Xavier?

— Mgh… – he groaned, barely nodding his head.

— Relax, – your lips touched his ear, sending shivers down his body.

It even seemed to you that this tremor was heard below as well, as if his member also twitched at the signal of the body.

— Please, – he whispered hoarsely, not taking his eyes off you. – Don’t go…

Something about his words made you wince. Why did he ask you not to go? Why did he say that? Did you give him any reason to think that? Was it something else? Blinking, you couldn't clearly define the reason that could cause these words. Your lips touched his temple, giving him the softest kiss full of love.

— I won't go anywhere from you, – you answered, feeling how tightly he gripped your waist. – I will always be with you.

He flinched at your words. You stopped, still keeping your hand on his already wet pants from the pre-ejaculate.

His head slowly lifted from your shoulder. Meeting his eyes, you felt your heart freeze. You saw longing, fear and need in his eyes.

— What... – not being able to say anything else, you felt an extremely strong desire to comfort him.

Your lips met his again, when you were about to remove your hand from his erection, until suddenly, he stopped you from doing so, placing his hand on yours.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, touching the tips of his nose.

— Please… – he whispered, barely shaking his head.

You lost your mind not only at his physical proximity, but also at how defenseless he seemed.

— Xavier, – you whimpered softly, pressing your forehead against his.

No matter how much you wanted it, but gently pushing him away from you with your free hand, you looked into his eyes.

— Let me go, – you asked, looking at your waist. – I won't go anywhere, I promise.

Xavier put a lot of effort into letting you go. His brows came together again at the bridge of his nose as his fingers parted, giving you your freedom. His eyes were locked on you as you rose from his lap.

Xavier looked as if he was ready to rush after you at that very second if you suddenly disappeared from his life. You had rarely seen him so tense and it broke your heart.

Slowly kneeling down in front of him, you placed your hands on his hips.

— Everything is fine, you have nothing to worry about, – stroking him, you felt how his left leg twitched.

— You… – Xavier whispered, touching your shock with his fingers. – You don't need to do this...

— Shh, – drawing sharply, you rubbed against his arm, running your fingers up his thighs. 

Groaning, Xavier covered his eyes. His hand barely felt as your fingers caught on the elastic of your pants.

— Xavier, – you just said his name, when suddenly he lowered himself a little lower, for your convenience.

Smirking the corner of your lips, you pulled at the elastic, pulling Xavier's house pants down. Underneath them you saw dark blue boxers, in which his excited member was clearly visible with a wet stain on them.

Your lips touched his shaft through the fabric. Xavier groaned again, breathing heavily.

You understood that he wanted it. I wanted you to take it sooner. I wanted to be in you faster. Fill you with myself. Cling to your body and never let go. And it made you happy. Be glad that your desires were mutual.

Pulling off his underwear, his slender member was in front of your eyes, barely twitching with excitement. A transparent pearl of pre-ejaculatory substance was visible on the head. Having examined him completely, you saw a vein that swelled like a snake on him. Your insides groaned with desire and wasting no time, you took yours. The tip of the tongue passed over the vein.

Xavier's moans echoed throughout the kitchen as you held his base with your fingers and sucked his hot cock into your mouth.

— God, yes.. yes.. S-so hot.. – he moaned, throwing his head back every time his cock was fully inside, brushing the tip of your throat. - P-please, please, don't stop...

You didn't plan to stop. You wanted everything he could give you. Everything, to the last drop. You will suck everything out of him.

You felt how his cock, pulsating, rubbed against your tongue and stopped somewhere in your throat. Suppressing the tears that rolled into your eyes, you with even greater efforts did everything to bring Xavier maximum pleasure.

The wet sounds from each plunge of his cock into your mouth merged with Xavier's moans and echoed off the walls, dissolving into the air.

— Oh fuck… – Xavier whined, running his fingers through your hair. – D-don't stop... Please... please, I… I need to… please..

His whimpers and moans made you flow harder, harder as the head of his cock slid into your mouth. His fingers gripped your hair tighter, helping you move your head.

— Please… – Xavier kept whining, moving his hips to meet you.

You were no less crazy from his actions than he was from yours. Your swollen lips slid over his shaft, sucking more and more. You gave him what he wanted and you liked it.

— Fuck, p-princess, – Xavier threw his head back with a trembling voice. - I so want... to cum…

In the mix of the wet smacking of your lips against his cock, you opened your eyes wide, looking at him with a look of complete debauchery. Your mouth began to work even faster until your fingers, forming a ring, moved from below, from his base up, until they met your lips.

You swallowed his cock like your life depended on it. You desperately needed to get his cum. You needed her.

— P-princess! – Xavier whined, trembling under your lips like an autumn leaf in the wind. – Wait! Stop, please!

Ignoring his pleas, you looked up at him, the way his eyes rolled in pleasure and the way he tried to push you away from him.

Your hands rested on his hips as your lips pressed into a ring around his cock. The tip of your nose touched his groin every time you swallowed.

— Please, please, stop, I.. I'm coming soon, – Xavier begged you to stop, unable to watch the way you ate him down below.

In response, you tightened your fingers around his pants, pressing your entire tongue against his length, enveloping him in the warmth of your wet mouth.

Gritting his teeth, Xavier tried to keep himself from letting his cum down your throat. You both fought. He was fighting not to cum, but you demanded it from him.

Your mouth, your throat, your tongue, which so kindly received his cock, did not give him a chance. In the process of another absorption, his hips twitched and made a movement to meet your mouth.

Xavier let out a soft whimper and you felt the hot cum rush down your throat. After swallowing some of the liquid, tears welled up in your eyes. Too deep, too much. But you accepted him. Taking every drop he gave you, flooding your throat and mouth with his cum.

Feeling him twitch inside you, you slowly let him out of your mouth, squeezing the shaft and head with your lips one last time.

Looking up, you saw Xavier leaning back in his chair, breathing heavily. His fingers still gripped the edge of the table as his other hand covered his face.

You felt the remains of the sticky sperm on your tongue and swallowed it along with the saliva, licking your lips.

— Xavier? – quietly speaking his name, you stroked his thighs, but he did not answer you. – Did you fall asleep?

Giggling, you got up from your knees and were about to touch his hand with yours, until suddenly he grabbed your hand first.

With a quick movement of his free hand, Xavier dropped everything on the table to the floor. There was the sound of falling books and the clink of a broken plate of lemon cookies.

You didn't have time to look at the mess Xavier had made from putting you on the table like you were a rag doll. The table creaked piteously as the hi's hands rested on its surface. Immediately, he pressed his hips against you as if he had always been between your legs.

— Let me show you how I can work… – he whispered, his lips falling on your neck.

This time, your sonorous moans filled the room as his lips left small, burgundy kiss marks and teeth marks on you again and again. As if mad, he bit your skin, licked it with his tongue and then bit again. Arching your back from his every movement, you felt how he lit a real fire in the bottom of your stomach.

His hand crawled under your shirt and went up to find your breast.

You moaned even louder as fingers pinched your nipple, playing with it.

— Xavier! – with a voice hoarse from excitement, you bent over to meet him.

His hands pulled your shirt up and leaving your neck alone, his lips kissed your breasts, squeezing them with his fingers. Xavier moaned softly in unison with you as his lips covered one nipple then the other. The hot tip of his tongue caressed the tip, sucking it into his mouth.

Throwing your head back, you whimpered, not knowing where to put your hands. The feel of him squeezing your breasts, biting them, made your body squirm beneath him.

His lips left new marks on your skin as they trailed down.

— Why do you look at me so often with your eyes... – he rasped, running his entire tongue from that navel up to the stomach, looking at you with eyes full of desire.

Breathing heavily, you barely felt any movement from Xavier, giving you some time to rest. Your breasts, swollen and covered with traces of his kisses, rose up from the accelerated breathing and shook from a strong heartbeat.

Xavier waited patiently for an answer as he moved up to your face, looking at your red hot face, eyes closed, lashes fluttering and lips swollen from the kisses and what you had done to him a few minutes ago.

— You hear me? – Xavier rasped, leaning down to your lips, barely touching them.

— Ahhh.… – you moaned without opening your eyes and reached for a kiss, until suddenly he pulled away from you. – What?...

When your eyelashes fluttered again and you opened your eyes, you met his gaze with his extremely beautiful blue eyes.

— Why do you keep looking at me with that look of yours? – he repeated his question, running his hand over your cheek.

— What look? – your voice also sounded hoarse, but it didn't bother you much.

— A look like… – Xavier held back the growing desire in himself, which could be seen by the emotion his face was now expressing.

Furrowing his brows, he shook his head as if remembering your eyes at that moment. Licking his lips with the tip of his tongue, he looked at you with a faint smile at the corners of his lips.

— You look at me like I'm your dog, – he said, pressing himself against your crotch.

Your eyes widened as you felt his cock turn to hard again, rubbing against you.

Xavier was leaning against the table, barely breathing as he stared into your eyes as his hips moved on their own. Throwing your head back, you closed your eyes, moaning softly.

— Xavier, I didn't… – you started searching for words to excuse yourself, but feeling fingers on your cheek, you opened your eyes, looking up at him.

— If that's what you want, I'll be your dog, – he said, confidently maintaining eye contact. – I will.

Your heart froze for a second when the meaning of what was said came to your mind. Your body, excited by his touch, stretched like a string.

— I'll be your dog, – Xavier repeated in your ear, pressing his body against you.

The table creaked pitifully again as his hips began to slowly rub against you as his hot breath burned your ear.

— X-xavier… – you begged, shaking under his weight.

— Do you want me to bark for you? – he whispered with a hint of fun in his voice. - Woof, woof…

— Stop, please… Ah… – his hip movements became faster, making you whimper even more at the feeling of his cock rubbing against you through the fabric of your pants.

— Princess… – Xavier whispered, pulling away from you and looking into your eyes that clearly read an uncontrollable, raging desire, he moaned softly, narrowing his eyes. 

In your thoughts, you really compared Xavier to a puppy. You took care of him, fed him and stroked him when needed. Now, there was nothing in him that combined him with that Xavier - sweet, shy and funny.

From one look at him, you felt how every cell of your body burned, how your womb wanted him inside, how your lips wanted his lips, how your body wanted to be pressed by his body, you felt how you needed Xavier.

Xavier, who one moment is looking at you in confusion at your next stupidity, and the next he's caressing your breasts with his tongue.

Almost crying with excitement, you nodded your head.

- Good! Xavier, I beg you, please, – you begged, arching your back and feeling his arousal below.

— Then let me satisfy you in a way that only I can, – his voice sounded in your ear and after kissing the corner of your lips, he lowered himself down.

Biting the tip of your finger, you lifted your head as you watched as Xavier trailed a wet trail of kisses down your body.

He stirred your butterflies even more when his lips stopped below the waistband of your pants. Looking up at you, he unbuttoned first the button and then the zipper, pulling the tab down. His hands carefully pulled your pants off your thighs, leaving you in your panties.

Feeling the fabric slide down your ankles, you bucked your hips shyly. Seeing this, Xavier gave you a surprised look, but without saying anything, he leaned into your stomach. Lips gently touched the skin, causing goosebumps.

Hitting your head on the table, you felt the heat from his lips. His hands touched your thighs and after stroking the tender skin, his fingers tightened.

A moan escaped your lips as Xavier jerked you closer to him, to the edge of the table which creaked once again. His gentle stroking made you feel more comfortable and without realizing it, you relaxed.

— Good girl, – Xavier whispered, his nose touching the fabric of your panties before pulling them off you. – I'm going crazy from your smell...

— Stop it… – you whispered, ashamed of his words.

He just giggled at your response.

The cold air touched your skin as Xavier carefully removed your panties and dropped them on the floor. Kneeling in front of you, he let out a stifled moan, inspecting your lust-soaked pussy.

— I want… – he said, wrapping his arms around your hips and pressing his lips to yours.

As if you were electrocuted, you bent over, groaning. Feeling his tongue moving between your folds, touching your clit, you lost the ability to breathe.

His tongue moved slowly, mixing your juices with his saliva. When his tip hit your clit, he lingered on it, pressing lightly. Your body responded to Xavier's caresses with even stronger tremors. His arms draped your legs over his shoulders, gripping your trembling hips.

Licking every millimeter of your pussy, he reveled in your moans that erupted from the depths of your chest. He tormented you with his rhythm, making your back arch every time his tongue touched your clit. Moaning from the pleasure he was bringing you, his tongue circled around the pearl for his lips to gently suck your clit.

— God, Xavier, please… – breathless and feeling dizzy, you grabbed his hair, squeezing your hips. – So good... Ah, please... Faster...

Your whining mixed with the wet sounds and spread throughout the kitchen. His fingers tightened on her hips and he obediently sped up, moving his tongue. Your eyes sparkled with pleasure. Holding him to you with trembling hands, you felt that you were already on the verge.

— Xavier, nghh… Yes, so good! Don’t... ah.. Don’t stop... – you fell silent, arching from the sharp shock of the current throughout your body, which started from the bottom of your stomach and spread throughout your body.

Your entire consciousness has been compressed to a single point. To the point below, which your sweet dog licked mercilessly with his tongue. A wave of shivers slowly rolled over you. Your body shook, your thighs squeezing Xavier's head in orgasm, threatening to crush him. Hitting your head on the table again, you sobbed, feeling that Xavier didn't think to stop there.

Letting go of his hair, you tried to somehow crawl away from him, but his firm grip on your hips prevented you from doing so.

— Stop, – you begged quietly, shaking from his tongue, still absorbed in the orgasm.

Squirming on the table, tears of pleasure fell from your eyes and it wasn't until you sobbed that Xavier stopped. His tongue trailed over your entrance, oozing your pleasure. He collected every drop, leaving nothing behind. You could feel his tongue inside as he moved inside you and losing the ability to breathe, you clenched your teeth.

— Yummy, – Xavier said, pulling away from you.

Barely finding the strength to raise your head to look at him, you clenched your whole body. With his usual calm expression on his face, he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, wiping his wet chin with his fingers before licking the remains of your orgasm off of them.

Throwing your head back, your gaze went to the ceiling. You felt exhausted. Your head was spinning with pleasure, your heart was pounding wildly, and your body still sometimes shuddered. There was a rustle and Xavier's face appeared in your field of vision.

You moaned as you felt his cock brush against your pubic bone, his lips falling to your neck again.

— Xav… – you begged hoarsely and quietly, slowly regaining control over your body.

— Yes? – he mumbled, hiding in the crook of your neck.

— I... I want you… – you said, wrapping your weak arms around his neck, pressing him to your chest. – Please…

You felt him tense under your hands. Moaning softly, he pressed against your body for a while longer, inhaling your scent. Pulling back, he slipped out of your arms and looked into your eyes.

— You… are you sure? – he asked, swallowing loudly.

You nodded and looked down, touching his neck with your fingers, smiling gently.

— I want to belong to you not only with my heart, but also with my body, – looking into his wide-open eyes again, you smiled even wider. – I want to give you everything I have: my thoughts, my love, my body, my desires, my pleasure, my life...

He shuddered at the last words. His look changed. It became darker. You looked again into the black hole that swallowed you.

— Say it… – he whispered, looking into your eyes. – Say it again... Please...

— I want to give you everything, – you repeated, holding back your laughter. – From my thoughts to my life. It's all just for you.

His lips pressed greedily into yours. The salty taste of your orgasm made your head spin again. You went crazy with the realization of how hard he worked to make you cum and the heat spread again in the lower part of your stomach.

Xavier's tongue immediately entered your mouth, taking complete control of the kiss, causing you to moan into his lips. You began to gasp, unable to fight his onslaught. Your hands touched his neck, shoulders and went down to his chest, reaching his cock.

You heard a moan as your fingers brushed against his shaft as your hips desperately tried to get into a position to drive him into your lap, but without Xavier's help you were having no luck.

After breaking the kiss, he barely touched your lips with his for some time, breathing heavily.

— Xavier, please.. move, – you whispered, almost whining against his lips.

Without answering, he moved his hips away from you, allowing you to direct him. Your heart pounded as the head of his cock thrust into your passage.

— Please, – you begged again as Xavier looked into your eyes, increasing the distance between your faces.

— I won't be able to stop, – he muttered, blushing.

— I don't want you to stop, – you shook your head sharply, taking his face in your hands. – You have to make me yours, remember?

A light flashed in his eyes and moving one hand to the edge of the table, above your head, he supported his cock with the other, penetrating you. Your womb met his hot and wet, making you both gasp at the sensation.

Leaning towards you, you touched your foreheads to each other and closed your eyes, enjoying the merger. Your hands were still holding his face as his cock slowly stretched you from the inside, filling you up.

— Xavier… – you whispered, feeling your walls squeeze his throbbing length inside you.

— Oh... fuck.. it's so tight inside you, – he whimpered and, letting go of his cock, let him enter the end on his own, putting his hand on your waist.

In those brief seconds, you felt as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving the two of you alone. Nothing but him inside you. When his head touched your cervix, you finally let out a moan of pleasure. At first, you were uncomfortable with his size, and knowing that, Xavier made a frantic effort not to thrust into you immediately. Even with a blinding desire for you, he still cares about your comfort.

— How do you feel? – he rasped, raising his head and looking into your eyes.

You took a short breath, nodding your head. Moving your arms around his neck, you pulled Xavier closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist. His nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck and his hips began to move slowly. Your soft moans blended together as Xavier pressed his body against you, bumping into your cervix.

Scratching his neck with your nails, you enjoyed every second of him being inside you. Your bodies were tightly connected inside. Your walls wrapped around his throbbing cock, making you hear his heavy breathing against your neck mixed with whimpers.

— It's so tight, – Xavier whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist. – I can't... think...

Your hips moved to meet his, urging him to speed up.

— Xav... faster... – closing your eyes, you restrained your moans to say these words and soon, you felt the friction become more intense.

— I won't stop, – he said, obediently complying with your request.

Your body arched beneath him every time his full cock disappeared into your womb. The sounds of bodies slapping against each other, the creaking of the table and your babble were music to your ears.

With each thrust, heat engulfed your body. It was becoming difficult to breathe, the head was spinning more and more, and the skin was slowly covered with a thin layer of sweat. Suddenly, Xavier was out of your arms and towering over you, he threw your legs over his shoulders, keeping your hips in the air.

You moaned loudly. when the cock was thrusting into you from a new angle. Grabbing the edge of the table with your hands, you looked into Xavier's eyes. In them you saw his darkest desires, his need for you. Each of his thrusts was accompanied by the creaking of the table. His gaze wandered lustily over your body, lingering on your bouncy breasts, which teased him with their appetizingness, decorated with crimson marks, went down to your waist, which also showed bruises from his hands, and finally, his gaze caught the small bulge at the bottom of your stomach , which appeared every time he penetrated you to the end.

— My princess, – he moaned, looking into your eyes again and squeezing your hips tighter. – I love you, I love you, I love you unconditionally.

Barely understanding what he was saying, you looked at him with a clouded look of pleasure, wanting to press into him again. Sobbing in pleasure, you reached out one of your hands to him, choking on scarlet moans.

— Please... I want... – whining, you once again pushed him on this table. – I need...

Releasing your hips without slowing his pace, he leaned into you, letting your hands grip his neck. Your lips met in a kiss again, exchanging saliva.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat, but that didn't stop Xavier from pounding into you faster and faster. You weren't worried about whether or not you'd be able to walk tomorrow, just like Xavier didn't doubt that he'd be carrying you in his arms all day. A wild desire took hold of your minds, causing your bodies to move in a frenzied rhythm of love.

Xavier drove his cock into you, wet with your juices, slapping his balls against your ass, met the obstacle in the form of the cervix and returned with a low growl to repeat the same actions. Slipping his hand between your heated bodies, he touched your clit. Almost crying with pleasure, you scratched his neck, shoulders and back, not knowing where to go. The air in your lungs was running out as fast as he was fucking your cunt. Your vision became blurry, everything was spinning and the only thing you felt was the near end.

Xavier's voice was whispering something in your ear, but it was hard to make out. Grabbing air with your mouth, you felt as if a little more, a few more thrusts and your body would collapse under his onslaught.

— Xavier, – you whined hoarsely under him, feeling extremely dizzy. – Nghh...

Your brain short-circuited and your body was covered by an explosion. Arching in the back, you squeezed your whole body. Clinging to Xavier with your limbs, you didn't give him a chance. Cursing in your ear, he tried to hold on, but your walls squeezed him too hard. He crashed into your thighs, plunging deep into you and finished with a loud moan, flooding you with hot cum. His hips gave a few thrusts as if he was trying to push as much of his family into you as possible.

Your body was shaking with orgasm, but your grip on Xavier slowly loosened. Soon, as your consciousness returned to reality, hot streams of tears flowed from your eyes.

Hearing your soft sobs, Xavier jerked up, still buried deep inside you. Confusion and excitement were reflected on his sweat-dampened face.

— Princess, – he asked in a husky voice and, clearing his throat, took your face in his hands. – Why are you crying? Are you hurt? What happened?

You looked up at him with a smile, feeling his fingers wipe the tears from your red cheeks. You couldn't answer now. Shaking your head negatively, you looked into his eyes. Panic and incomprehension grew in his gaze, which almost made you cry even harder.

Clenching his teeth, he pressed himself against your body, touching his lips to your shoulder.

— I'm here, – he whispered, feeling how you occasionally squeezed him in you. – I’ll always be with you.

— Xav...

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your feelings, and wrapped your weakened arms around his neck.

— Yes, princess? – he answered, pressing closer.

— So you weren't a virgin? – you whispered hoarsely, gently stroking his back.

He noticeably raised his head and looked into your eyes.

You thought I was... - his eyebrows went up in surprise. - Why?

— We just had sex for the first time... in our relationship.

— I've been saving this moment for a better time, because you deserve the best first time, – his voice was muffled and his breath burned your neck. – But you decided to rush this moment. 

He laughed and poked himself in your neck again. 

— Okay, but, – you stopped stroking him after a moment. – If you're not a virgin, and you said you had no one before me, then…

You felt Xavier relax against you. The table cracked under your weight and you groaned in indignation, but you couldn't stay angry with him for long. 

— Did you fall asleep? – you shook your head and hugged him tighter, deciding that five minutes wasn't that long. 

 When he wakes up, he will take you to bed and clean up the mess he had made. Just 5 minutes.

— I'll never let you go, – Xavier said in a sleepy voice. – It doesn't matter where you go, how far you will be, I will always find you.

— Pretender…

— No way…

[lxndonorris]

to be loved - Logan Sargeant

Y/N x Logan Sargeant Theme: angsty fluff you're invited to a gala to honor you're achievements at work. Logan, however, is doubting himself. You show him how much you love him just for who he is x word count: 1120+ taglist: @game-set-canet thanks to @iworldlywriter for the idea! Another Logan story might be coming very soon as well. Haven't written angst in a while...

The Miami Grand Prix has culminated in a whirlwind of emotions and adrenaline. Logan, your boyfriend and talented young racer, gave his all on the track, pushing boundaries and challenging limits. However, the aftermath of it all leaves him feeling more defeated than ever. As he sits in the dimly lit living room of his home, the weight of his recent crash pressing down on him, he can't shake the lingering sense of inadequacy that gnaws at his soul.

Across the room, you sit perched on the edge of the couch, your gaze soft as you watch Logan. Then, you look down at your phone, glancing over the email you'd gotten a few days ago. 

The success of your latest book, "Echoes of Eternity," surpassed even your wildest dreams. Its poignant prose and captivating storyline captured the hearts of readers around the world, propelling it to the top of bestseller lists and earning rave reviews from critics and fans alike.

Amidst the flurry of interviews and accolades, one invitation stands out above the rest—a prestigious gala to honor your literary achievement. As you read the elegant invitation again, adorned with intricate gold foil and embossed lettering, a sense of pride and gratitude washes over you.

Still, a heavy cloud of concern lingers in your heart for Logan. The recent string of disappointments on the racetrack weigh heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits even amidst your own success.

"Logan," you say softly, breaking the silence that hangs between you. "I want you to come to the Gala with me."

Logan's eyes flicker with uncertainty as he meets your gaze. "I don't know, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with doubt. "I'm not sure I belong there."

You move closer, sitting down right beside him, and take his hand in yours. "Logan, listen. to me," you say earnestly, but he lets out a long, deep sigh.

"Y/N," he breathes, "I know what you're going to say." Logan looks at you, searching your eyes for reassurance. "But this season... I haven't lived up to the team's expectations, to my own expectations," he admits, his voice lancing with regret. "I feel like I don't deserve the seat... like, I don't deserve you."

Logan's admission cuts deep, stirring a tumult of emotions within you. The raw honesty in his words lays bare the depths of his inner turmoil, and the weight of his self-doubt feels like a heavy burden on your shoulders. 

As much as you want to reassure him and chase away the shadows that cloud his mind, you know that healing his wounded spirit will take time and patience.

Tears well in his eyes as he avoids your gaze, but you softly cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Logan, look at me," you say firmly. 

"You are so much more than your racing career. You're kind, compassionate, and incredibly talented. And none of that changes just because of a few bad races."

Shaking his head in disbelief, his jaw clenches with pent-up frustration. "It just feels like I can't catch a break," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "No matter how hard I try, it's like I am stuck in this endless cycle of bad luck."

You squeeze his shoulders gently, offering silent support as he grapples with his emotions.

"I know it's tough," you say softly. "But remember, racing is just one part of who you are. You're so much more than your performance on track."

He swallows hard, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty washing over him. "But what if I let you down as well?" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Like I always do."

"You could never let me down," you reply, your voice unwavering. "Because being with you, sharing this journey together, is the greatest reward of all."

A few tears run down his cheek as he searches your eyes for even the slightest hint of doubt, something to fuel his belief in failure. 

"Do you really mean that?" he whispers again, his voice laced with vulnerability.

With every fiber of your being, you nod, your gaze unwavering as you meet his. "Yes, Logan," you say firmly. "I mean that with all my heart. I love you, not for being a professional racer, but because of who you are deep down inside yourself."

For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air, the weight of your words sinking in as Logan grapples with the depth of your love. And as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace, you know he needed that.

With Logan wrapped in your arms, his vulnerability lays bare. You hold him close, a beacon of unwavering support amidst the storm of his doubts. Gently, you lift his chin, guiding his gaze to meet yours, your eyes filled with love and conviction.

"Logan," you begin, your voice soft yet resolute. "I believe in you. I believe in the strength of your spirit, the depth of your resilience, and the power of your determination. You are capable of greatness, of achieving heights beyond your wildest dreams."

A glimmer of hope flickers in his bright eyes, and his expression softens just a little. 

"What if I never live up to my potential?" His voice is barely hearable, rough, and husky. 

You brush a tender kiss against his forehead, your touch a gentle caress against the storm raging inside him.

"Every setback, every stumble, is a stepping stone on the path to greatness. And I will be here, by your side, every step of the way."

As the weight of your words sinks in, a sense of resolve settles over Logan, his shoulders straightening with newfound determination. 

"Thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, gratitude shining in his eyes. "For believing in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself."

"Always, Logan," you reply, your voice a whisper of reassurance in the night.

He leans in once more, hugging you tightly, and as you hold Logan close in a comforting embrace, you feel the tension slowly melting away from his body, replaced by a sense of peace. With a gentle smile, you pull away.

"Hey, how about we order some of your favorite takeout?" you suggest, your voice warm with affection. "And then we can snuggle up on the couch and watch that movie you've been wanting to see."

Logan's eyes light up at the suggestion, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

"That sounds perfect," he murmurs, his voice soft with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N."

With a tender smile, you press a loving kiss to his lips, a silent promise of unwavering support and devotion.

"Anytime, Logan," you reply, your heart swelling with love. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

[alwaysalir]

Let’s talk about that moment Colin agrees to help Penelope.

I personally think this scene is going to come towards the end of the very first episode. I am assuming this is going to come after the good night Mr. Bridgerton sneak peek where we see Penelope, kind of spill her guts to Colin about overhearing what he’s said and how she’s feeling about herself.

I really think the suitor storyline is in a lot of ways Colin’s penance for what he said in 2.08. If a husband is what Penelope truly wants then Colin is going to go out of his way to make sure his words is not the thing that prevents that from happening. The scenery looks very much like the outside of the featherington house, and I feel like it would be so poetic that this deal would be struck in the same place where Penelope overheard him saying he would never court her.

I also really liked the use of the word friends because it definitely feels like it’s mirroring back to that scene in 2.02. And that episode: also returns from his travels and Penelope is waiting on pins and needles, hoping that the letters between them somehow will Colin’s feeling for her but with he calls her his friend she’s upset to find out that nothing has changed.

In this particular scene, it definitely feels like the opposite. I do still think Penelope has feelings for Colin, but I feel like she wants to shut the door on those feelings and so that moment where she says friends it feels like resignation, her accepting their relationship for what it is, which is friendship. But for Colin, you can see that he feels something more than friendship. I’ve said before I think this moment definitely is the spark for Colin to figure out his feelings

I also love, love, love the use of the bare hands in the scene. We see the scene where Colin kisses the lady’s hand that he is wearing gloves and we see Penelope throughout the trailer in different instances wearing gloves, but in this moment, they both have bare hands and I feel like it’s a really signifying the shedding of previous relationship and them really FINALLY becoming vulnerable with each other

[yazthebookish]

Why an Elucien rejected bond storyline would be boring

Years ago Sarah briefly discussed Elain and Lucien's mating bond, she changed her plans from having Nesta as Lucien's mate to Elain since she saw there is a great deal of tension, growth and healing to be found for both of them (together).

In my opinion, we are currently seeing them go through the tension stage where there is this distance and strain on both of them due to recent events. Lucien was sexually assaulted by Ianthe and he is settled in the human lands to support Vassa and Jurian. While Elain has to mourn her human life and also the rejection of Graysen (who used the bond against her) + she also grieved her father. It's pretty reasonable for her to feel that resentment and hostility towards the existence of her mating bond with Lucien.

Part 1: As of ACOSF, does Lucien want Elain or did he move on to Vassa?

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

I won't make this part long because it's right there in the text. His longing. He still longs for Elain. He still tries. If he is so occupied and in love with Vassa, what is he doing spending Winter Solstice at Velaris to give his mate a gift instead of the woman he apparently "loves".

"But he lives with Vassa!"

The concept of friends sharing a house does not necessarily mean they're all hooking up, unless Lucien's comment on Vassa and Jurian liking to be at each other's throats is to be taken literal (and he's the third wheel in that scenario). I firmly believe Vassa and Jurian would end up together.

It's clear Lucien has eyes for one female only and that's his mate.

Part 2: Lucien doesn't want the bond and he can't stand it

And that's when arguments are formed based on out of context quotes, because context always matters to get the full picture.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

Is it not valid for him to feel conflicted about this entire situation because he is still processing the fact that the female who he fell in love with, who had chosen him, saw him, and accepted all of him, who was beheaded because she loved him, is not his mate? but this stranger is? He is trying to make sense of it. He doesn't know Elain yet.

Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

His feelings and thoughts and instincts are all clashing at once. That is much evident in this entire scene.

"I can't stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes. I can't stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back."

This is often taken out of context to point out that Lucien doesn't want the mating bond or he can't stand to be around Elain. As a mated male, it's overwhelming for him to be around her because his instincts clash and he has to keep himself grounded around her. He doesn't know yet how to approach her or what she expects of him. It's extremely awkward and he can't stand it because he still didn't find a common ground with her.

Using this quote to imply he doesn't like her or stand her is absolutely false within the narrative.

I think so. It wasn't just about what he thought—it was the ... feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And ... sorrow. Longing.

Part 3: Lucien is responsible for her trauma

Hard disagree on this one.

Even canon points out that the one who told the King of Hybern about Feyre's sisters was none other than Ianthe. This is not to defend Tamlin because he gave her an opening to do whatever she liked and did not hold her accountable in ACOWAR.

Now about Lucien, what power did he have over Tamlin's decisions when we have seen that despite being his friend, there is a power imbalance and Tamlin does lash out at Lucien. Lucien is not a character without flaws, but neither Feyre nor Nesta ever blamed Lucien. Even when Elain says to his face that he betrayed them, Lucien immediately says it was a mistake. He doesn't try to absolve his role in it or explain his actions to her, he calls it as it is.

I disagree with the statement that he is responsible for her trauma, Lucien was nothing but a spectator.

"But, but, he yelled at her and announced that they were mates!"

Cassian again stirred—trying to rise, to answer Nesta’s voice as she held my sister and cried her name again and again. But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

Right. He yelled at her.

Great reading comprehension.

And it's like we forgot when Rhys said the moment the bond snapped between him and Feyre, if he stayed a second longer he would've damned the consequences and took her with him. As soon as he winnowed back to Velaris the first word he said to Mor after 50 years was "she's my mate".

"Well he shouldn't have said it anyways"

Yeah because it's not like Lucien is a Fae male and the mating bond is something that alters the Fae on a biological level. It overrides their instincts.

Part 4: Elain choosing the mating bond + Lucien will be a disservice to her arc, it won't be a choice unless she chooses Azriel

“but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

I like that Sarah briefly discussed the topic of a character's agency when it comes to mating bonds because it's something that has long been discussed in the fandom.

However, I disagree that if Elain chose Lucien it's not truly a "choice" because of the mating bond. We have seen with both Feyre and Nesta that they didn't choose to be with Rhys and Cassian simply because of the bond, the mating bond was just the cherry on top—they loved their mates for who they were.

"Elain's entire journey will be about choice"

Isn't she already making a choice? Isnt she choosing not to pursue the bond? Isnt she choosing to ignore the bond? Isn't she choosing to not reject it? Isn't she choosing how she is living her life in Velaris? Isn't she choosing how she spends her time? Isnt she choosing to garden and help other gardens in Velaris? And I can go on.

Neither Elain or Lucien had a choice in being mated to each other, but the notion that the mating bond left her with no agency over her life is partially incorrect because she is making choices. Yes, the mating does in a way take some of Elain's agency and Lucien's agency since it's something that alters them on a soul-level, but Lucien's agency is often removed from this conversation.

Currently, the ball is in Elain's court and not Lucien's. She currently has the choice of accepting or rejecting the bond.

And in my opinion, "choice" is a theme that is incorporated in the journeys of all the characters, it's not exclusive to Elain. I don't think "choice" is the core of her story because I think Elain's journey should focus on breaking out of the docile and gentle sister mold (not that she stops being gentle, but stopping others from infantilizing her), finding where she truly belongs, realizing who her true found family are, discovering the world (a trip to the continent let's go!).

Part 5: Azriel (warning: controversial)

This will be a bit of a hot topic but I'll do my best to keep it short (it really isn't).

This kind of follows Part 4, but I will tell you why Azriel isn't a "great" choice for Elain.

Yes, they had a sweet companionship and a friendship and that is usually a good foundation for a relationship, but to me there wasn't anything solid or deeper then that. We have to *assume* they had moments off-page, but we also know that they're not spending time together and Azriel confirmed this. So am I going to wait for chapters of flashbacks after flashbacks to see that build up from the past?

Before anyone jumps the gun, I am a hardcore Gwynriel and a hardcore Azriel fan and I fully understand and accept that Azriel is a flawed character who carries so much self-loath. I dont like him with Elain because I believe it's an unhealthy dynamic compared to how lighter and more open he is around Gwyn and this is not something against Elain, it's more tied to how Azriel perceives the logic of 3 sisters + 3 brothers. Dynamics matter and makes a difference between couples because e.g., Chaol and Yrene worked better than Chaol and Celaena. Mismatched pairings exist but it doesn't mean the characters involved wouldn't work out with others.

So how is the male that centered himself in his entire conversation with Rhys instead of prioritizing what Elain wants, is the ultimate choice?

He argued that the Cauldron was wrong because he didn't get the "third" sister while his brothers got her other sisters, and at this point we know Elain is not interested in a mating bond. If she is attracted to Azriel, it has nothing to do with wanting a bond with him because we know how she feels about it but it's Azriel who wants to center the mating bond in it.

So does that mean the relationship from Azriel's perspective wouldn't be complete without a mating bond? Then why is he arguing about this? Wouldn't it be more romantic for him to say I don't care if she is mated or not, I want her for her—but that's not the case here.

Notice that it's Azriel having these discussions about mating bonds and not Lucien who is her mate. and I promise you if it was Lucine having this exact discussion with Rhys, the entire fandom would drag him to no end.

Back to Azriel, so he also says that he hadn't gotten that far with his planning certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to + and said Lucien is not good enough for her and she has not interest in him anyways. Again, he is speaking for Elain when we know one of the big problems surrounding Elain is how others speak for her and assume what she needs. If she doesn't want the mating bond, that's her speech and not Azriel's. I still don't get how people were fine with him speaking for her and I'm not even the biggest Elain fan.

Last but not least, he also was against her scrying despite publicly declaring that no one decides what she can or cannot do and wants to help. Is this truly the "ultimate choice" for Elain? But Lucien's only crime is being mated to her?

Part 6: finally, why Elain and Lucien rejecting the mating bond would be bad storytelling.

So we know that a bond can be rejected, only weakened but it will always exist.

"Elain would have our full protection if she rejects the bond. But it will still be a bond, however weakened, that will trail her for the rest of her existence."

"But he'd know if Nesta were dead. In his heart, his soul, he'd sense it. Would feel it. A mate always did. Even if she'd rejected that bond."

1. There isn't enough time to explore a rejection:

It seems there isn't a ritual or a tradition we are told of about a mating bond rejection, if the female doesn't want it then that's that but it does have a worse impact on males.

As of ACOSF, it's evident Lucien still longs for Elain even if they are distant or occasionally see each other. We know Elain resents the bond but we still don't have her POV to really know what she thinks of Lucien.

What do we get out of a rejected bond with Elain and Lucien? That she just doesn't want him and can say "no"? That she finally has a choice? Even though she is making choices as of the current canon to not explore the mating bond or do anything? I gave examples in Part 4.

And then what? Lucien moved on to Vassa or another female in the next book? That despite a rejection being devastating he's all cool and moved on within months.

No stakes. No challenges. No reprecussions. No consequences. Nothing interesting.

"But it's proof that not every mated pairing works" that would be interesting if we had enough time to discover that but not with two characters that barely spoke to each other and readers have no clue to what kind of dynamic they have.

A rejected mating bond would not be a good story to tell because there wasn't much there to begin with. It's underwhelming.

"I don't want it" "okay cool see you around" < and that's it? Groundbreaking.

"It's a big factor to play into a forbidden romance because Rhys is the obstacle here" easily resolved with one word from Elain and Rhys is removed.

I think Elain and Lucien's mating bond would still be interesting to read about because we never had a mated pairing that knew they were mates but weren't in love yet.

It's giving an arranged marriage trope and the best part about arranged marriage is when the spouses get to know to each other better, they fall harder—I think the tension between Eain and Lucien would be quite delicious and fun to read about as they tip toe around each other and the mating bond.

2. Parallel journeys:

I like what Mor said in ACOFAS and it makes complete sense since it reaffirms that both Elain and Lucien are going on parallel journeys:

Mor drank deeply from her glass. "Stay out of She's not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings."

I lifted a brow. "Snoop."

Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly un-repentant. "Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her."

3. Promised HEAs:

SJM already stated that each book going forward will follow different pairings and by the end of their book they'll get their HEA. That's the standard traditional romance formula.

A mate rejection, especially in standalone books, are miserable. Not enough time is given to navigate through it or move on and it also sets an unrealistic and cheap outcome that the other mate could easily move on from the soul-level rejection. No, that doesn't entitle a mate to force their other mate to accept the bond because it would affect them personally, it's just something I think that needs more than a book to discover through the POVs of the characters involved.

This is why a mate rejection is a very rare and an unpopular trope in fiction. There was a temporary mate rejection in the Zodiac Academy series that scarred the ZA fandom because it's depressing.

You have Fated Mates authors like Kresley Cole who published around 21 books with each book including the Fate Mate trope. That's one of ACOTAR's trademark.

Till this day, every SJM character that found out about the mating bond ended up with their mate one way or another. It's an SJM trademark at this point.

4. Then which rejected bond would Sarah explore?

In my opinion, the true rejected bond story that would be extremely emotional, tragic and powerful is the story of Helion and Lady of Autumn.

What they had is the definition of a forbidden romance. Lady of Autumn was married to a High Lord from her Court and Helion wasn't even a High Lord of the Day Court then.

The stakes are extremely high they could've triggered a war between Day Court and Autumn Court. Even though a mating bond triumphs marriage, Lady of Autumn still has children with Beron. She chose her children over her mate in the end. She had to reject the bond because everything stood against them.

While this is currently theoretical but it's strongly pointed at in canon that they're mates.

This makes for a better story of a Rejected Mating Bond because enough time passed to see what were the repercussions, the consequences of their actions and how they both suffered. Do they find their way back to each other in the end or does one of them for whatever reason loses their life? Did Helion have to seek other people to distract him from not being with his mate and her not choosing him? Did their bond weaken?

Conclusion:

I didn't expect this to be long but I hope you enjoyed reading this "essay". The rejected mates storyline is controversial and so many readers feel strongly about it. Everything here reflects my own thoughts and why I think a Rejected Mating bond wouldn't be an interesting one to discover with Elain and Lucien.

I deserve another cup of coffee and on my way to get me one haha. I apologize for any typos in advance.

[millie-multifics]

……Mamma Mia?

Evan Buckley x GN!Reader

When your friend cancels plans last minute, your sweet boyfriend steps up.

Featuring: Soft Boyfriend Buck and Mammia Mia

Masterlist

x x x

Your phone tightened in your grip and you withheld your sigh of disappointment. You had this night planned for weeks, but your friend was calling to cancel merely an hour before you were set to pick them up.

“No worries, take care.” You hid your disappointment behind a smile as you finished up the call. Your boyfriend, Buck immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Everything okay?” Even from the kitchen, he could hear the slight variations in your tone that was hiding your crushed excitement.

You sighed, kicking off your shoes. “Tonight just got cancelled.”

“But you’ve been looking forward to this for weeks? And you spent so much time getting those tickets and choosing an outfit.”

You pulled the throw pillow onto your lap as you sat on the couch, picking at a loose thread, remembering all of the nights looking through ticket websites and multiple weekends spent combing through thrift stores in L.A.

“I’ll go with you.” Buck offered, the sadness you were emitting was simply too much for your sweet boyfriend to bare. It didn’t matter to him that musicals were not his thing and he would have to sit through two, or that he had just gotten off shift and was simply exhausted. The only thing that mattered to him right now was your happiness.

“Really?”

“It’ll be fun.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself just as much as you.

“So it’s a musical about paternity?”

“It follows Sophie, she is getting married and trying to decipher which of the three men her mom had written about in her diary is her real father.”

“How does Abba fit into all this?”

“If you’re looking for the logic or correlation between Abba and the story, you won’t find any except that some of the group were the creators of the musical.”

“Does she find out who her real father is?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, babe.”

Buck continued to scroll through the Wikipedia page. “Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again?”

“The second film. It takes place a few years later, dynamics have changed and Cher is in it.”

The popcorn bucket rested on your lap, your fingers idly reaching in for the next popped kernal thoughout the film. Buck had also been indulging in the buttery goodness but it had been a moment since his fingers brushed yours in the bucket. You pull your eyes off the screen expecting to find him asleep but found the opposite, his eyes were glued to the screen as Meryl Streep sang Slipping Through My Fingers. You swore you could see his tears glistening in his eyes at the beautiful song.

The second film began and Buck quickly questioned the absence of Meryl Streep just as everyone did the first time it had been watched. He would whisper in your ear as quiet as possible for explanations on small continuity errors but you assured him none would effect the storyline much. You could feel Buck squeeze your hand just a little bit tighter as Sky returned to Kalokairi, and he was sniffling along with the rest of the Theatre during the christening scene.

“So what did you think?” You asked as the lights turned on while the credits rolled.

“I can definitely see why these are your comfort movies.”

“Thank you for coming with me, Evan.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, cuddling into him as much as possible with the chairs cupholders between you.

“Anytime.”

Buck didn’t regret volunteering at all despite how his tiredness from shift weighed on him. The theatre was packed with fans who were just as enthusiastic as you and he adored watching you glow each time you received a compliment on your well planned outfit. Maybe, just maybe he enjoyed the movies too.

You think you can definitely hear him humming S.O.S in the kitchen the next morning.

[tossawary]

I've been rewatching "Batman: The Animated Series" and I'm finding it pretty entertaining, because I barely remember anything from it and so, though some of it has aged quite poorly, I keep being pleasantly surprised by many elements. I'd recommend it as a casual / background watch to anyone who is already a fan of Batman and his gallery of rogues. The show is very episodic, so it has a lot of one shot storylines, and it can be both quite silly and shockingly dark and serious.

The production design and overall vibe is really fun and funny, because Gotham City is apparently simultaneously experiencing the 1990s and the 1940s, and also every decade in between. Art deco is everywhere. I like the moody backgrounds painted on black paper. The tech is so chunky. This city is stuffed full of futurists, industrialists, socialites, gangsters, mad scientists, and supervillains. Nearly every classic Gotham rogue becomes a supervillain here because some greedy businessman screwed them over and they decided to take revenge into their own hands.

Because the episodes are focused on their own little stories, you meet a lot of the ordinary people of Gotham, and you get the vibe that there's a lot going on in this city. (It's just Bruce on his own most of the time in the beginning, with Alfred, because while Dick Grayson is Robin, he's already off at college and only occasionally comes back to visit.) The stakes can get high, but they can also be personal. One episode is about a thief who's made himself an invisibility suit, but the climax of the episode is him attempting to kidnap his daughter away from his ex-wife.

One of the most recent episodes I watched opened with the Joker being escorted into the rec room at Arkham and sitting down to watch the news. (He changes the channel away from the gardening show that Poison Ivy was watching and they nearly get into a fight about it.) The news promptly reveals that someone has just opened a brand new $300 million casino that they've themed after the Joker. His face is everywhere. The blackjack dealers are dressed like him. It's all in incredibly poor taste. The Joker is furious and immediately escapes to destroy this new luxury casino.

Of course, Bruce Wayne is there because it's a big social event. And upon the theme reveal, he immediately has Alfred drive over to bring him his Batman gear, because he's like, "Joker is definitely going to try to destroy this ugly casino." And I was like, "Sheesh, I know this is Gotham and it's obviously filled with a rich person social scene that is weird beyond my comprehension, but this is weird even for them! Building a Joker-themed casino is just asking for trouble!"

And then Batman investigates and finds out that the casino's construction bankrupted the owner, so the owner hastily themed it after the Joker so that the Joker would come and destroy it. The whole thing is someone attempting to commit insurance fraud via the Joker. Incredible.

[mrghostrat]

Hello and good morning/day/night :]

I was wondering, in BNF, we’ve gotten tiny little bits of information about the ‘Nice and Accurate Prophecies’ (not sure if that’s the correct title, sorry) book and TV series, if there was anything else you could tell us about it?

Character names, storylines, plots, any fun details you may have made up or otherwise, etc, etc.

I just think it’s sweet how interested both Aziraphale and Crowley are in the series, and if you might be as interested, if not more, in it too.

Thank you, and have a lovely Sunday. 🫶

this is it, my leash has snapped, i'm wild in the streets, thank u for asking; i'm gonna go be insufferable now

(hi @neil-gaiman if you see this, i think it's safe to read, but it does border on being fan fic. i'm writing a fic where crowley and aziraphale are an artist + writer in an online fandom, much like we are for good omens, and this is the fake story i've made for them to be fans of 💛)

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

info dump of the fake 5 book series by Agnes Nutter (1985-1992) and its fake fandom:

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy

The Strange and Improbable Prophecy

The Vague and Perfidious Prophecy

The Tense and Harrowing Prophecy

The Faint and Ineffable Prophecy

a dramatic, layered story with a bizarre and unexpectedly lovable cast of characters, humour that hits you out of nowhere, and a lot of attitude from the narrator. a la Good Omens, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

fantasy/historical fantasy and mildly action & romance

a la good omens, a witch and a witchfinder become friends and help each other throughout history, despite being on opposite sides. they get closer as they fight against the immoral plays from their prospective sides (the witchfinder army and a demonic cult the witch was born into) that each lose sight of their core values in a bid to hold more power over the world.

the story is set primarily in a medieval fantasy era, but suddenly jumps to the present in the later books, catching everyone off guard and giving a whole new context to enjoy the story. the challenges they face parallel the earlier story but in a modern take with modern technological twists. the modern era is the late 80s, since that's when it was written.

the witch reincarnates, similar to doctor who, due to a high class black magic ritual they performed in their arrogant youth (which they were NOT supposed to have access to). they've had long lifetimes where they die of old age, and others where they've barely managed to live a year. their reincarnations aren't entirely random; they will reincarnate according to their growth and preferences as a person (a la Magical Boy's magical outfit generations), which includes fluctuation in gender identity. their pronouns fluctuate depending on each "face" they wear, but have canonically been a "they" before. the good side of the fandom (crowley & aziraphale) default to they/them as an overall rule. they do have a name, but they like to change that too, so the fandom almost exclusively calls them witch, or witchy.

the witchfinder also has a name, but the fandom have taken to calling him witchfinder to match the fact that witchy is called by their role. it also helps that a lot of the witchfinder narration refers to him by role instead of name. he is human, 30ish in appearance, but at the end of the first book, the witch fears to lose him and curses him with immortality against his knowledge to try and keep him safe.

witch is crowley-coded, witchfinder is aziraphale-coded. my to-do list includes an illustration of the two of them played by michael and david :') but i picture them being kind of like newt and anathema for the most part.

ship names include witch/finder, witchwitch, w² or witch², and witchfound.

at the start of the first book, they meet and become friends without knowing each other is a witch & finder. the witchfinder is a bit bumbly, like newt, and the witch is cool and suave but neurotic and insecure like many human au variations of crowley (major overcompensation vibes). witch is male at the start of the first book. their friendship is secure when witch finds out he's a witchfinder, so there's less "oh my god i'm friends with the enemy, is he going to kill me in my sleep?" and more "ah fuck, Lets Drink About This"

there's battles, horseback riding, camping out in dark woods, disappearing and losing each other for months at a time, and many missed connections as they try to work together against two common enemies, whilst keeping up the facade that they're on their respective team's sides.

there's charged chemistry in the first book, but it's more plot heavy. there's hints of shippy moments in the 2nd book that fall in between the plot. there's a Moment of almost confession in the 3rd book, and a non romantic kiss towards the end (we gotta, for neil). they're pretty much married in the 4th book, securely at each other's side, but never actually talk about it until the end, and there's a more explicitly stated shippy connection in the 5th book.

agnes herself is a total recluse who drops books out of nowhere then goes back to existing somewhere in the english countryside (people presume). she's happy to supply signed copies to fundraisers and conventions, and sometimes random bookshops across the country will be vandalised with genuine autographs on the inside covers. she's notoriously pedantic about being involved with adaptions behind the scenes, but she has no social media and isn't ~around~. she once did a talk when she was presented with an honorary doctorate, and did a single book signing when the first Prophecy book came out, but beyond that she keeps to herself.

there are a small handful of quotes from her in behind-the-scenes footage talking vaguely about character intensions and clarifying world building, but she likes to leave things up to interpretation like neil does. it's in these few snippets of interaction we've seen from her that she's steadfastly supportive of intersectionality and lgbt rights, like staring dead-eyed at an interviewer when they ask her a ridiculously heteronormative question about the characters (like "have you read my books?")

adaptions include:

(most adaptions start like the book, with a male witch at the beginning that turns into a female witch when they first regenerate. the early ones usually change the pacing by switching to a female actor by the time they realise witchfinder is a witchfinder, unlike in the book where he's male for this scene, and there's way less Charged™ chemistry between the m/m witch/finder.)

Feature Film: late 90s, kind of cheesy, but good spirited fantasy (a la Indiana Jones). focuses on the first book alone, with hints to a sequel that never happened.

Abandoned TV Pilot: early 2000s, a little too dramatic but still a good time (a la the Dungeons and Dragons 2000, ASOUE 2004). good source of gifs and Moments™ but the fandom is generally Fine with it being abandoned.

Stage Performance: late 2000s-early 2010s, a stellar stage adaption of the first book with elements of the 90s movie. f/m witch/finder the whole way through. one cast used m/m actors but it was a short run and only a handful of fans were lucky enough to catch or remember it. crowley would give his left arm (or someone's, anyway) to have experienced it, so a fan sent him some flip phone camera footage of it that he keeps on a harddrive in his safe.

HBO Streaming Series: late 2010s-present, high quality, highly revered, resurged the fandom's popularity and spread the series further overseas. made in america, but doesn't try to americanise the series. extremely respectful to the books, with easter eggs to the film, and is working its way through the entire book series (a la The Witcher netflix series). f/m witch/finder, but has had one episode that included some flash backs/montages of different witch faces. probably like 15 minutes total screentime of a male witch played by a ncuti gatwa level/style of actor, which the fandom has giffed, edited, and screencapped to oblivion.

Several bonus books: Agnes has written a few extra books (a la The Unauthorized Autobiography of Lemony Snicket and The Beatrice Letters), as well as curated some anthologies from other authors (a la A Study In Sherlock). there are a total of 3 anthologies so far, in which other authors have written stories about the characters in their own tellings. basically like canonised, published fan fiction, curated and authorised by agnes herself. There's also an unfinished graphic novel that retells the book series (a la The Adventure Zone comic), but has been WIP/unheard of since the 3rd book.

[alicewritez]

Everything Will Be Alright - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1012

summary: it’s obvious to hotch how down you’ve been feeling lately, he takes it upon himself to make sure you feel better

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: a little sad in places but ends happily. fluff. i’m only just getting back into writing so my apologies if there are any mistakes at all. also, maybe drop some ideas of what sort of plot/storyline you’d like to see next! 💕

"Wheels up in thirty."

Within thirty minutes the team were on the jet. Everyone else was sat together, but you were sat off to the side, at the back of the jet alone. You'd been having trouble sleeping recently; you were plagued by nightmares of a past case and, luckily, no one had picked up on them.. yet.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked, walking over to you, sitting down as he eyed you carefully.

You pull your gaze away from the jet's window and turn to face him, offering him your best forced smile. "Hmm?.. oh yeah.. I'm fine." Hotch stared at your face. You looked so pale, eyes heavy and your smile was clearly forced. It was stupid to try and hide anything from Hotch - he knew everything. "You're not alright." He moved from where he was sat opposite you to directly next to you, looking down at you, his eyes softening further.

"You don't need to worry, I'm fine." You shrug. Hotch stared at you for a little while, he had a look of curiosity in his eyes with a touch of concern, wondering is he should continue with his questioning to get you to open up to him, or if he should change the subject entirely and leave it alone. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?" He finally decides to speak up after a moment of internal conflict.

"I've not had a great sleep pattern but it could be worse." You answer quietly with a small shrug.

Hotch moved his body slightly closer to yours, wanting you to know that he was there for you if you needed him. "What is keeping you up at night?" He asked, the concern becoming more prominent as he spoke, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I guess I just-" you sigh, "I guess I just don't feel good enough.. I never have done really." Hotch stayed silent for a second, taking a moment to consider what you had said. He could tell you had been carrying this burden; this feeling; for quite some time.

He put his his hand softly on your knee, squeezing it gently as a form of comfort. "Hey.." he stared into your eyes again, with a hint of sadness but comfort in them. He didn't want a world where you didn't think you were good enough. You were more than good enough. "Look at me- really look at me."

Your eyes flicked up to lock with his revealing your unshed tears as you took note of the concern written on his features. Hotch noticed that your eyes had teared up, and he moved his hand up to your face, slowly wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb. "It's okay.."

He looked at you, he had the same soft, comforting look on his face just like before. "You're good enough to me." He moved his hand to underneath your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his. Your lip trembled a little as the conviction of his words hit you - you were good enough in his eyes, that's all you needed to hear. "Thank you.." your voice failed you as you thanked him, your words coming out in an almost whisper. He saw your bottom lip trembled slightly, and he decided to ease the comfort into his words, and gently pulled you close to him. He held you close, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He then whispered again, so you could barely hear, but you heard clearly all the same. "You're more than good enough in my eyes." He kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand, before letting go. He looked at you one more time, but then he sighed. "You should try and sleep on the jet."

"What if I don't want to?" You challenge, mumbling into his chest.

Hotch laughed slightly and sighed. He was trying to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks, trying to bite back a wide smile. All he really wanted to do was hold you close to him, which he decided to do anyway, without hesitation. He moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to him and holding you close. "Sleep on my chest then?" He asks, smirking as he said it.

You smile and decide to tease him. "How could I resist?" He chuckles as you tease him back, wrapping his arms fully around you. He squeezed you gently, but not too hard. He pulled you close so your body was fully leaning against him, your head firmly resting on his chest. He sighed, tilting his head down so he could see your face and so you would meet his gaze. When your eyes locked onto each others, he decided to whisper once more. "Sleep."

You scrunch your nose, you weren't making this easy for him. "But what if I want to stay up and talk with you?"

"I want you to sleep..." he sighed, but was finding it difficult to hide his smile. You were really making his heart beat quicker. "Please.." he looked at you, still with the same soft, comforting look in his eyes, as he asked.

You sigh. "Fine.." you shift until you're firmly resting against him, being overcome by the warmth his body was emanating.. "I love you.." you mumbled sleepily, not realising what you were saying as you fell asleep on his chest.

Hotch froze for a moment, he was surprised at what you'd just confessed, but he was happy at what you had said. He had to hold back his laugh at how cute you looked. When he realised you were asleep, his features softened further. He moved your hair out of your eyes and shifted a little so your face was resting against his chest comfortably as he gently stroked your cheek.

"I love you too.." He whispered, mostly to himself, still stroking your cheek, but you didn't notice, as you were already fast asleep laying against him.

But one thing was for certain, everything would be okay.. because you had Hotch.

[gffa]

If you could change anything about the Prequel and the Sequel trilogies, what would it be?

I love the prequels, in all their both brilliant and dumbass glory, so as tempted as I am to say that I would have had Lucas find someone else to direct the prequels after Spielberg said no (I think he was firm in saying Lucas should do them?), I really love that mix of something genuinely good and something genuinely bonkers. I would change the Tuskens storyline to be less racist/the Neimoidians to have a different accent and I would put more Asian Jedi into the scenes, if you're going to base them on Buddhist monks, we could use a little more real world reflecting of that. The sequels on the other hand need an overhaul from top to bottom. At a bare minimum they needed to have at least planned the storyline out ahead of time and had a single vision instead of the tug-o-war that we got. I would not have made Kylo and Rey's characters all about each other, I would have spread the connections around more, given Kylo and Luke more than just the one scene together, I would have given Finn a better storyline, I would have given Poe a better backstory, I would have connected the storyline better in the movies to the world they inhabited (ie, use more established settings and alien races, etc.), I would have kept the OT trio to secondary characters, but also let them have reactions to each others' deaths in the same room, I wouldn't have made Han/Leia into that because how am I supposed to have fun with rewatching the originals knowing everything went to shit, I would not have brought Palpatine back (or at least I would have set it up from the beginning otherwise), etc. The sequels were in a difficult place, but even as many issues as I have with TFA (too much of a palette swap of ANH for my tastes), the pieces for a satisfying story were there, it's just that everyone wanted to take it in different directions and none of the three movies really seemed to get what Star Wars' themes were. I love the characters and there were great moments in there, but I would have sat them down with a bunch of Lucas interviews about what the themes of Star Wars was before starting and tried to give them a better foundation for understanding it.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Jason Todd submissive? Please I'm obsessed 😭🙏🏼 (I don't speak English, sorry Google translator JAKSKAKSKK)

— 🐏

Ahh! My first request! I tried my best based on what I understood of the assignment and I really hope you like it 😅!

Also, I speak French, a little bit of Spanish, Mandarin (though it's been ages! 🫠) and Punjabi, so don't worry about having to translate these if it's easier for you! Although I'm only comfortable writing in English, so I hope this is still all right!

Also, also, I know most writers on this site write in Y/N format, so you guys can just let me know if you prefer that format or 3rd person and I can change it accordingly.

Interrogation practise

I feel like Jason wouldn't let you try to dominate him, so you'd just have to try to trick him into it 😉.

Part 1 - the interrogation

Part 2 - the revenge

Part 3 - the roleplay

Warnings: bondage, explicit description of sex including blowjob (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).

----------------------------------------------------------

     She gave the knot a final tug, then looked up at him. “Is this okay?” 

     “That’s perfect, baby,” Jason assured her, shifting in position to get himself more comfortable. She stood up and moved to stand in front of him. She’d asked him to help her practise her interrogation techniques - she was always too soft when it came to questioning criminals and she wanted to learn how she could improve on her weaknesses. She’d tried asking some of the others before - Bruce, Cass, Dick - but they were all either too impatient or too violent for her tastes. And even though her boyfriend could be … a little hot-headed at times, he was always gentle when it came to her, helping her use her own unique talents to better improve her crime-fighting style. 

     “Okay, so, how should I start?” X asked him. Jason let his gaze trail over her body, his eyes lingering a little too long on her tanned and tone legs, bare beneath her little shorts. He dragged his gaze back up to hers, trying not to think about how very helpless he was right now, tied up to this chair in front of his pretty little girlfriend, just waiting to torture him. He shook the thought away.

     “So, you want to start gentle,” he coached her patiently. “People are already scared of the big old Bat, right? So you want to convince them that it’s better for them to talk to you instead.” She nodded in understanding.

“Okay, so … What should I be trying to get out of you in this situation? Give me a storyline.” He smirked, amused by how seriously she was taking the situation. She was so cute, his sweet little girlfriend. 

     “Hmm … Maybe you could be trying to find out where the Riddler’s hideout is?” Jason suggested. “I could pretend to be one of his goons.”

     “Okay,” she agreed. She cleared her throat, taking a moment to get into character, then raised her head again, clasping her hands behind her back and strolling over to him. “Look. You and I both know things are going to get a lot more … unpleasant when my boss gets here. So, why don’t we help each other out?” 

     She placed her hands on the back of his chair, bending over so that her lips were just a breath apart from his. “You tell me where the Riddler’s hiding and I’ll make sure the Batman goes easy on you.” 

     Jason’s lips curled at the ends as he appraised her and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that to convince me.” 

     “Hmm,” X considered, her dark eyes trailing down his face and landing on his lips. “What would you like me to do for you, Mr Todd?” 

     F*ck. This was a bad idea. Why had he agreed to this? Oh, right: because she’d given him that pretty little look of innocence that drove him mad whenever he saw it, her dark and curly eyelashes fluttering up at him, her full and rosy lips twisted down in a pout. But shit, they’d barely started and he was already regretting his decision. He should have made them do it the other way around instead; he should have tied her up to his bed while he ‘demonstrated’ the proper technique to her. She dragged a finger down his chest, her eyes following the path she made along his hard muscles. 

     “What would it take …” she slid her legs on top of his, settling herself in his lap, “... for you to tell me where the Riddler is hiding?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, her breath tickling his ear as she murmured into it. 

     “Hmm? 'Sweetheart'?” His head fell back with pleasure as she chuckled at her own words before nipping playfully at his ear.

     “Ah, f*ck!” Jason shifted in position, struggling against his binds so he could free his hands and run them all over her deliciously bare thighs. God, she was hot. X straightened and moved one hand to cup his face, her lips so close to his, but still so painfully far.

     “Why won’t you tell me, Jace?” she whined, pouting at him pleadingly. Then her lips twisted into a grin and she dragged her thumb across his lip before beginning her mouth to his. “You know what I’ll do for you if you do.” 

     He leaned forward, meaning to kiss her, to close the distance between them and lick up the sweet taste of her. But she pulled away again and he growled in response. “X!”

     X giggled and stood up, curling her fingers around his shoulder and moving to stand behind him. 

     “This is an interrogation, Jason,” she reminded him, bending over and sliding her hands down his chest appreciatively. He was so hot, her big and strong boyfriend. “You’ll get what you want when I say you get it.” She nipped at his ear again and he sighed, wriggling his legs to try to free his ankles from their binds. She pressed her lips to his neck, the soft moans escaping from her throat driving him crazy as she made her way down to his shoulder. 

     “Mmm, Jason,” she mumbled, her voice low and seductive in his ear. She straightened, her hands returning to his shoulders as she stood over him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to maintain his self-control - and his control over the situation he’d landed himself in. 

     “Princess,” he called to her, his tone sweet, lazy - like he was the one still in charge. “Why don’t you untie me and we’ll see what we can work out?” She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it as she moved to stand in front of him again. 

     “Hmm, I don’t know,” she admitted, grabbing his shoulders again and bending over him, her dark hair falling forward to frame her sweet face. “I’m having much more fun trying to work things out like this.” 

     Her eyes fell to his chest, to the sharp lines of his muscles pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt as he sat there, hands bound behind his back as he looked up at her. “It’s too bad you still have your clothes on though - we could have had so much more fun if you’d taken them off first.” 

     He sighed and let out another curse as she shot him a wicked smile. Then he watched as she turned around and went over to the kitchen, grabbing a knife before making her way back over to him. His heart started picking up its pace in his chest and he couldn’t decide whether he was terrified or thrilled by the idea of what she was about to do next. “Princess.” 

     She ignored him as she walked back over to him, her steps slow and precise. Then she grabbed the collar of his shirt and traced her knife over the soft fabric before slicing it down the centre. She stood back and licked her lips at the sight of his bare chest, setting her knife aside before climbing back on top of his lap. 

     “Mmm, Mr Todd!” she chuckled, running her hands down his chest and leaning forward to bring her lips to his ear. “Looks like the Riddler’s got his men working on an extensive exercise routine.” She curled her fingers around the waistband of his pants, wriggling back a little to give her hands more room, and he felt his body start to heat up in anticipation. 

     “Does he have a gym? At this secret hideout of his?” She traced her fingers over the outline of his cock, already starting to harden in his sweatpants, and let out another little laugh. “Maybe you could take me there sometime. How about that?” She nibbled on his neck as she slid her hand into his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down teasingly. 

     “F*ck,” Jason groaned, his head falling forward at the sensation. X pulled back to look at him, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. 

     “What’s wrong, Mr Todd?” she asked him, delighted to finally have the upper hand over him. “Still not convincing enough for you?” She lowered her lips to his, but continued to dodge his attempts to kiss her, chuckling when he groaned in frustration. Then she leaned forward to pull his lip between hers and sucked on it before letting him go again.

     “Ah, shit!” Jason exclaimed, his breaths getting heavier as he started to become more aroused. He let out a choked gasp as she brushed her thumb over his tip and began circling it gently. “X. Don’t … Stop it, sweetheart.”  

     “You want me to stop?” She shook her head at the thought, lips still curled into that devious smile. “Don’t you remember what I said, Jace?” 

     She brought her face back to his, smirking at him in the way he’d always smirk at her when he was teasing her, pushing her to the very limits as he played with and pleasured her. “I’m in charge tonight.” 

     His head fell back against the seat as she continued twirling her slender fingers around his cock. He should never have agreed to this; he should have known the moment she’d asked him to help her out, that mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes as she'd gazed up at him. Had she planned this all along? Had she wanted to tie him up just so she’d be able to dominate him for a change? Dominate him in the way he’d always dominate her? X frowned, feigning confusion as she looked down at the frustrated crease between his brows. 

     “You’re feeling a little dry, Jace,” she informed him, removing her hand from around his c*ck and pushing herself off of him. He swallowed hard as she lowered herself to her knees and pulled his pants down, licking her lips hungrily at the sight of his cock exposed before her. “Let’s see what we can do about that, hmm?”

     “X, don’t … This isn’t how an interrogation works, sweetheart,” he informed her, trying to keep his tone gentle so she wouldn’t be tempted to challenge him. She glanced up at him quickly, then fixed her gaze back on his cock, her eyes lighting up with delight. 

     “Hmm?” she mumbled, reaching forward to grab hold of his dick. “I’m just trying to use my strengths, Jay. Like you always tell me to do?” She turned her face up to his, grinning at the feeling of his cock throbbing in her hand. Then she leaned forward and dragged her tongue across his tip, licking him up slowly. He bit down on his tongue, trying to stop a groan from falling out at the sensation. He could do this: he’d been in much, much worse situations before and he hadn’t cracked then. There was no way he was going to give her the pleasure - the satisfaction - of knowing that she was the only one capable of breaking the unbreakable Jason Todd. No way in hell was he going to let her have this! But then she wound her tongue around his shaft, closing her mouth around him and letting out a low moan that danced along his skin. F*ck. He pressed his lips together, barely muffling the groan that managed to escape his throat. 

     “X, don’t … don’t …” he panted heavily, struggling against his binds as she continued sucking his cock, her pretty little mouth taking him in so nicely. She pulled her head back slowly, dragging him out of her mouth, then lowered her lips to his balls, her fingers continuing to work on his tip as she suckled on him gently. 

     “Don’t what, Mr Todd? Are you not enjoying this?” She licked one of his balls, curling her tongue around it before pulling it into her mouth to suck on it. 

     He was definitely not enjoying this - not at all! He was the one who was supposed to be dominating her; throwing her around and teasing her until she was begging him for relief, her perfect little breasts bouncing up and down as he brought her to the edge of her pleasure and back down again. He never hurt her, of course - never forced into anything she wasn’t comfortable with. But it was just one of the only times he finally felt in control of something in his life and he was f*cked if she found out how so very aroused he was right now. 

     She chuckled, knowing exactly how much he was enjoying it - and exactly how much he was hating the fact. She’d wanted to try it, just once, but she knew her boyfriend would never have agreed to something like this, proud as he could be. So, she’d devised this clever plan, playing into his ego to make him think that she was just so innocent and so desperate for his help. She pulled his dick back into her mouth, moaning against his tip when it hit the back of her throat before letting him go again. Then she stood up. 

     “Okay. You’ve had your fun,” Jason relented, the muscles in his shoulders flexing deliciously as he pulled against his binds again. “Now untie me, X.” She rearranged her features into that innocent expression that drove him crazy every time she used it on him. 

     “But you still haven’t told me where the Riddler’s hideout is,” she pointed out, eyes wide as she waited for his response. He huffed in irritation, his chest heaving up and down as he glared at her. He looked so hot like this, jaw clenched in anger, strands of his dark hair falling into his mossy eyes. There was no way she was going to let him go so easily - not until she was completely done having her fun! He kept his mouth shut and she shrugged. “If that’s how you want to play.” 

     X started taking her clothes off, taking her sweet time removing each piece of clothing and dropping them into his lap. She smirked when she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down and her eyes fell back down to his cock, the tip glistening now with the prec*m starting to leak out of it. She slid her hands up her abdomen and squeezed her breasts when she reached them, her body entirely bare before him now. 

     “What’s wrong, Jay? Are you gonna come all over my clothes?” She blinked at him sweetly, feigning innocence before bending over to murmur in his ear. “Why would you do that when my pretty little p*ssy is already waiting for you to fill it up?”

He let out a choked gasp at her words. “F*ck!”

She straightened and giggled at the thunderous expression on his face, his thick brows crashing together over his darkened eyes. Then she flicked her hair over her shoulder and straddled him again, wriggling her body against his as she ground her hips into his slowly.

     “F*****ck,” he groaned into her neck, his dick so painfully hard for her. “Shit, baby. Faster. I need you. Now.” She twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up at her again. 

     “You just don’t listen, do you, Jason?” She flicked her tongue out, licking his lips before giggling and tugging on the skin of his neck with her teeth. “We should do something about that.” She slid her hands down his hard chest, pressing quick kisses down his neck before licking a stripe back up to his ear. 

     “Shit, baby. Anything. I’ll do anything you want me to.” He began thrusting his hips against hers, desperate for relief. “You want me to tell you where the Riddler’s hideout is? I’ll tell you. Gotham … museum … or whatever.” Had they agreed on a location? He couldn’t remember. And he didn’t really care, either way - all he needed was her, her tight little p*ssy clenching around his dick, her warm and wet walls squeezing him tight as he unloaded himself inside of her. She giggled as she bounced up and down on his lap, clearly delighted by how desperate he was for her. Then she took hold of his chin, tilting his face up to hers so she could look him in the eyes. 

     “Really? You’re not just lying to me so I’ll give you what you want?” Jason shook his head quickly, doing his best to focus on what she was saying. But f*ck, she felt good, her p*ssy already dripping for him as she waited for him to fill her up.

     “No!” he reassured her. “I promise. I … Shit. Please, X. Please, sweetheart, I’ll … F*****ck.” His head fell forward as she stopped her movements, his dick pulsing and throbbing with desire. Then finally, she reached down to take hold of his cock, sliding it through her already drenched folds in preparation. He suck in a breath at the feeling of her warm and sticky c*m, then let out a grunt as she started easing him inside of her, his hips thrusting into hers as his body begged him for relief. 

     “Slow down, Jay!” she laughed. “You wanted to hold out against me, right? You didn’t want to give me what I wanted?” She grabbed his hair again and pulled his head back so he was forced to look up at her, at the wicked curl of her lips.

     “And I asked you so nicely, too!” she continued, letting go of him and lowering her lips to his. “Should I wait? Should I just stop and wait for the Batman to come and deal with you?”

     “F*ck, no! Don’t … Shit.” She wouldn’t actually stop, would she? Not when he was already halfway inside of her? “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, baby. Please, just …”

     He lowered his head to her shoulder, brushing his lips along her neck and murmuring against her skin. “Come on, sweetheart. Please? I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” 

     “Hmm, anything?” she asked him, her body tingling at the low rumble of his voice, at the way his thick cock filled her up so very nicely. She held his head in her hands, guiding his mouth to her breast as she ground herself into him, her p*ssy pulling him deeper inside of her with every roll of her hips. She shivered as he closed his lips around her nipple, dragging his tongue around it and suckling on it in just the way he knew she liked. “Mmm, shit, Jay.” 

     She moaned at the way he licked and sucked on her breasts, his cock brushing up against her walls every time she moved. She slid her fingers into his hair and tugged on the strands, pulling his head back again to see that dazed look on his face again. Her nipples tingled at the way his eyes had glazed over from pleasure, his pupils so wide now that the beautiful green of his irises had disappeared almost entirely. She giggled at the sight, then pressed her lips to his, moaning into his mouth as she kissed him deeply. He raised his hips to thrust himself into her repeatedly, his dick hitting that one spot that had her curling over in ecstasy. And then she hit her breaking point, her body shuddering and shaking against him as she came. She gripped onto his shoulders, trying to maintain her balance as her p*ssy pulsed around his dick, clenching it tight and begging for him to fill her up. His hips stuttered as his c*m gushed into her, the warm and sticky liquid shooting into her vagina and leaking back out again. X whimpered at the feeling, curling herself around him and burying her face in his neck as he unloaded himself inside of her. Then finally, he leaned back against his seat, the tension leaving his body as he finally got his release. 

     “We … are never doing that again,” Jason panted warningly, his green eyes boring into her as she straightened. His eyes fell to her breasts as she tried to catch her breath, the beautiful mounds glistening with sweat just waiting for him to lick away. 

     “In that case … I guess I’d better take advantage … of right now,” she joked, delighting in the way his dick was still buried inside of her. Jason growled, baring his teeth at her in a snarl. 

     “X. Untie me - right now,” he demanded, not playing around anymore. X sighed and got up off of him, her body protesting at the sudden emptiness inside of her. She knelt down to undo the ties around his ankles, then moved to take care of the one binding his wrists together. He jumped up as soon as he was free, shrugging his shirt and pants off before grabbing her and lifting her up in his arms.      

“Just you wait, sweetheart,” he growled in her ear, carrying her over to his bedroom. “It’s my turn now: and I don’t care if it takes me the entire night to get what I want from you.”

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter nine

summary: you catch up with an old friend and luca makes you dinner.

warnings: fluff, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (songs mentioned in chapter are in this playlist!)

a/n: i've always pictured mathilde & jesper as the chalamet siblings AND astrid is in fact played by rina sawayama i don't make the rules (i do). thank you for all comments, reblogs, and screaming at me because we are all obsessed. seriously, it's an honor and i'm just so excited that you all are just as excited as me. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

You spend your first Sunday afternoon without Luca, for the first time in a few weeks, deep cleaning your home. Between your new relationship and your work at the restaurant, you’d found yourself falling behind on chores. But he’d worked the late shift last night, filling in for a cook who called out, which is how you’d ended up with a night and morning of divine alone time. 

With your headphones on, it’s easy to multitask, simultaneously folding clothes while you catch up with your friend, formerly-sister-in-law, over the phone. 

“Anyways, work’s kept me so damn busy that I’ve barely had a moment in my own home but… we are all doing quite alright over here,” she explains, after detailing her travels all across Europe. 

Being a buyer for Nordstrom UK keeps her on the road, or rather, in the sky, at a frequent rate. 

“Well I’m glad you called. It’s good to hear from you. And It’s really good to catch up, Astrid,” you say, smiling to yourself as you finish folding a pile of t-shirts. 

“Well, just because you and Joe didn’t work out doesn’t change anything. You’re still my sister,” she replies, with a small laugh. “We’re family, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t keep a good thing around.”

“Astrid! You know it wasn’t like that,” you protest, though you know it’s all in jest.

“I know,” she sighs, and you can practically hear her rolling her eyes from all the way to England. “Selfishly, I’m just feeling a bit contrary about it, is all. But enough about me. How are you? How’s everything at the restaurant?”

“It’s been great. I… can’t believe that I have a restaurant,” you answer as you shake your head in disbelief.

“God, I’ve gotta get out there soon. I haven’t stopped thinking about that lumache from my last visit – what was it – last November? Yeah, it’s been too long,” Astrid recalls lightheartedly. 

“Yeah, it really has. Just let me know. You know I’m always up for hosting you,” you agree, hopeful that she’ll come visit soon. 

“Besides work, what else’s new? And don’t tell me you’re still just burying yourself in the restaurant because I don’t want to hear it,” she asks, a curious tone in her voice as she segways from work to 

“Well um…” you trail off, treading lightly over the delicate subject. 

The thing you want to tell her about is Luca, because he is what’s new in your life. His presence in your life is evident – it’s in the pair of sweatpants he tossed in with your laundry that you’re folding now, the spare toothbrush you ‘lent’ him that sits right next to yours, and the way that thinking of him makes your heart race. 

You don’t want to lie to her… but you’re also not sure what the etiquette is either. 

It’s not like this is included in the divorcee handbook you never got in the first place. 

“I’m… sort of seeing someone,” you admit, hesitantly. 

“What?!” she gasps, instantly giddy with excitement. “Yeah, we uh…” you hesitate, testing the waters since she seems excited about it. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, maybe.”

“Shut up! That’s mega! How’d you meet? Tell me everything,” she gushes. 

“Well, he actually came into the restaurant. Kind of became a regular and uh…” you explain, and she can hear the smile in your voice as you do. “He’s great. You’ll love this story, actually. He’s also a chef – a pastry chef. One night after coming in, he left a box of croissants for my staff and a handwritten note inviting me to come to the restaurant he works at. It was very….”

“Romantic. Wow…” Astrid adds, too excited for you as she listens. “And a bold move. Knows what he wants. I like him already.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s really incredible. I swear. He has the patience of a saint, especially as I’ve uh… you know, I’ve been trying to figure this whole… dating after you end your marriage kinda thing,” you continue, chuckling in response to the awkwardness of it all. 

“We were friends actually, for a while. Just friends, which, I know you’ll yell at me about when you see what he looks like. But I think it was good for us, for me, really – to be friends first.”

“Well, now you have to send me a picture,” she requests, even more intrigued as you fiddle with your phone, pulling up a photo you took of Luca the other day. 

You wait a beat. Then another, seeing that the photo has been delivered as Astrid shrieks in your ear. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, mate?!” she practically screams. 

“I know,” you squeal. 

“You are absolutely unbelievable,” she shakes her head, staring at the gorgeous blonde on her screen. “How did you not jump right into bed?!”

“Trust me,” you reply, the room suddenly feeling 5 degrees hotter. “After we agreed to start seeing each other, we didn’t wait very long.”

”Sounds like you have a boyfriend,” Astrid comments smugly, as she waits for your reaction. You have expect yourself to panic, but you don’t as you the words tumble out of your mouth. 

“I… it does sound that way, doesn’t it?” you ask her, your voice soft as you reply. 

“Absolutely, my darling,” Astrid replies, before changing the subject. “Okay, so how’s the sex?!”

“Astrid!” you protest with a laugh. “Do you really want to-?”

“Of fucking bloody course I do! Now spill!” she demands. 

You pause, grinning as your cheeks blush. 

“It’s fucking incredible,” you admit, eliciting a giggle from your friend. 

“Shit, babe,” she sighs, contently. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you say back, because you’re pretty damn happy too. “Astrid, will you keep this between us? It’s just that it’s all still so new and….” 

You pause. 

“I just don’t want Joe to hear it from anyone but me.” 

“Of course,” she replies, compassionately, in deep understanding.

“What else are sisters for?”

-------------------------------

You showed up to Luca’s flat uncertain of what to expect, but then he’d pulled you into his home and kissed you like you’d been on his mind all day – and in his defense, you really had. 

“Why don’t you come over Sunday night, then? Let me cook you dinner for a change,” he had suggested as you were figuring out your schedules for the week. 

“You sure you’ll be up for that after working overtime this week?” you’d asked in response. 

“I’ll be alright, love,” he’d answered, like he had unlimited energy when it came to you. 

And even though you’d asked him if you should bring dessert – only to be met with a cheeky comment about you being dessert – you showed up anyway with a matcha basque cheesecake in hand and a deli container filled with a yuzu scented whipped cream to top it with. 

So this is how you find yourself perched on top of Luca’s kitchen island countertop, after having watched his exceptional knife skills for the last thirty. You spend your evening snacking on sliced sourdough bread you’re not sure how he had the time to make, and sip on your glass of red wine while watching him prepare a coq au vin. You swear you’ve got hearts in your eyes when you look at him, watching his muscular, inked forearms flex with how he grips his chef’s knife. As music plays softly in the background, a playlist you can only imagine is the entirety of Luca’s music library put on shuffle, you busy yourself, refilling your wine glass for your second glass of the night. 

“Want another, babe?” you ask him, noticing that he’s on his way to empty as well. 

“Sure. Thank you, my love,” he replies, scooping a handful of chopped carrots up from his cutting board with a bench scraper, depositing them into a small bowl. You watch as Luca picks up his glass of wine and makes his way over to you. 

He hands you the glass, then places a gentle kiss against your lips, a smile spreading across his lips. Luca takes a few steps away so that you can fill his glass again, making a few swift movements to turn the heat down on the gas burner. 

“How was your day?” he asks, while still moving around his kitchen. 

You fill him in on your productive day of chores and catching up with an old friend while Luca listens, busy with removing the pieces of chicken out from the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. By the time Luca’s added hot oil to the pot, followed by the chopped carrots and peeled, halved cipollini onions, you’ve caught him up on the long version of Jesper’s latest love-life updates, since he and Claudio have now decided to make it official. 

“So you used to make this with your mom?” you ask curiously, changing the subject as you watch Luca scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot. 

He nods in response, stealing a glance your way, his lips turned up into a half smile. 

“Yeah. Most coq au vins can take up to three to four hours, but my mum didn’t have the time,” Luca explains, as you watch him remove the pieces of chicken from out of the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. “But it was important for her… to cook for me… to share that ritual with me when she could.” 

The sound of the wine and cognac mixture hitting the hot pan sizzles throughout Luca’s home, your nose filling with the smell of deglazed caramelized bits. 

“And I spent a lot of time as a kid watching the cooking channel, so while we didn’t exactly spend all Sunday cooking a classic French coq au vin, Jamie Oliver’s did the job quite well,” Luca recalls, sharing a piece of his relationship with food with you. 

“Well, it smells incredible,” you say, as he approaches you once more, this time with a full glass of wine in your hands, ready for him. 

As Luca leans in again, the way he kisses you is much more languid, slow, like time is limitless. You breathe him in, completely enamored with the man that’s kissing you, and before anything too wild can happen, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. Luca smirks, and you swear he knows the effect he has on you. He presses a quick peck to your lips this time, before taking the glass of wine from your hands and heading back to his post in front of the stovetop. 

“This all goes back in,” he continues, using tongs to add the chicken and pancetta bits back into the simmering pot. “Then we braise it in the oven for about… thirty, forty minutes maybe.” 

You raise your glass of wine to your lips, taking a quick sip of the beaujolais you’re using both for the coq au vin and to unwind, listening as the song changes in the background, instantly recognizing the drum pattern. The corners of your lips turn up into a smile as you close your eyes, enjoying the familiarity of the song as you say:

“God, I love this song.”

Luca smiles, “It’s a classic. Great song.” 

Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick

The one that makes me scream, she said

The one that makes me laugh, she said

Threw her arms around my neck

“You know, I saw them when I was in my early 20s. It was just me and a bunch of somebody’s dads,” you grin, in reference to The Cure. 

Luca chuckles at your comment, before asking, “Did you really?” 

“Yes. And when they came out on stage, smoke machine and all, I wept because it was the fulfillment of a childhood dream – to see them. I… was a bit of an angsty teen,” you answer, raising your wine glass to your lips once more. 

“Think we all had an angsty phase, more or less. Mine was less pining to The Cure and more stirrin’ up trouble,” Luca admits, lightheartedly. 

“Again, and I’m holding you to it. You promised me pictures,” you remind him with aplomb. 

“I did, yeah,” he chuckles, shyly, with a sigh of resignation. 

You focus on enjoying one of your favorite songs and sipping on your glass of wine, as you watch Luca put the enameled cast-iron plot, full of the ready-to-braise coq au vin, into the oven. 

Comfortable silences between you and Luca have become more frequent. There are days that all you want to do is stay up till the early hours of the morning talking and kissing and fucking, and there are others that you love leaning into the quiet intimacy that seems to be developing between you. It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten what this feels like – the excitement of something new where you’re learning so much about each other and everything feels like the first time. 

It’s thrilling and it’s also safe. 

Luca makes you feel safe, and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but him. 

For a first time relationship, post-divorce, you really hit the jackpot, you think to yourself. 

Luca continues moving around the kitchen, drinking his wine in between clean up tasks, as if he’s at work, hell bent on keeping his station clean. He’s much better than you are at that, you observe, as he does a few dishes that he’s used up, instead of leaving them in the sink for tomorrow. 

As he dries his hands on a dish towel, the song changes, and the opening notes of Beyonce’s Love On Top begin playing. You smile as you hear the undeniable: 

Bring the beat in!

“Alright, mate. Hear me out,” Luca proposes, spinning around with excitement. “And I don’t say this lightly. But this. This is one of the greatest songs of all time.” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you giggle as you watch Luca dance to the song in his kitchen with a smoothness that’s somehow simultaneously a little silly. 

“What? You don’t agree?” he asks, shooting you a look as he ball changes towards you, earning another laugh from you. 

“No, I do. I love this song,” you grin from ear to ear. “I’m just so tickled by the fact that you love this song.”

“It’s Beyonce,” he defends, in his best ‘well-duh’ kind of tone, gesturing wildly. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” 

“Wh-,” you begin to say, before Luca’s practically pulling you off of the counter to join him. “Luca!!”

But he’s not having any of your protests as he wraps his arms around you. You hang onto him, holding him close as he leads you in a silly uptempo kind of dance, spinning and turning you with him in a way that has you in a fit of giggles. The two of you stumble from his kitchen into the living space area as you move together, embracing how goofy and ridiculous you both feel. 

Luca sings along softly, something you get a better listen to as soon as he’s pulling you close to him. 

“What the fuck!” you practically shriek, your jaw practically on the floor. 

“Hmm?” he hums in response, unphased by your outburst. 

“You’re unfuckingreal,” you balk, as you listen to him hum along to the Beyonce song. “I mean. You-, like, you look like this, you’re great in bed, and you have a nice singing voice? How-, how’s a girl ever supposed to stand a chance?” 

He chuckles, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine as he coos, teasingly, “I’m great in the sack, hmm?” 

Your heart skips a beat as you pull back, just enough to look into the eyes of your lover as you say, “Oh fuck off.”

He laughs again, this time, leaving a soft kiss against your ear, hugging you closer to him as you slow your dance down as the song begins to end. There’s a pause between this and the next song, providing the perfect opportunity for Luca to answer your earlier question. 

“You weren’t,” Luca replies, his voice quiet but sure. Supposed to stand a chance, he means. “I think we were supposed to meet. Supposed to be here.”

Supposed to fall in love. 

He leans down to kiss you as the next song begins, transitioning into a much bluesier sound. The crooning sounds of Etta James blast from Luca’s living room speakers, as you smile into the kiss. You groan, your heart aching in the best way as kiss him to:

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love, oh yeah, yeah

“My God. I think tonight’s shuffle is proof that you may just have the most versatile taste in music history,” you mumble, pulling away for a moment from the kiss. 

As you open your eyes, Luca’s just admiring you, an awestruck look on his face that steals your breath. No longer able to deflect with humor or anything else really, you lay your head on his chest, settling into the soft swaying motion of the dance that you and Luca have fallen into. Your arms go around his neck once more as Luca holds you close to him, making a mental note to remember this forever. 

“How did you know?” you ask Luca, softly. 

“What’s that, love?” he asks back. 

“You said that you thought we might be good at this. At… at an ‘us.’ When we talked about starting to see each other,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, underscored by the violins of the song. 

Luca takes a deep breath admitting that, “I didn’t.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him, your eyes full of adoration for the man that’s captured your heart.

“Babe, I-,” he starts, letting out a small laugh. “I knew we got on well. And that I liked you. And I thought… if we got on this well as friends and you felt the same, that we could give it a go. See what happens.” He takes a beat, choosing his words, before continuing with: 

“But, my love, I can’t predict the future. It could work out in the long run, it could not. But I wanted-, I want to see how far we can take it.”

You take a deep breath, because this conversation is deep-breath worthy. 

Notorious for wanting to read the last page of a book first, you know he’s right, that you can’t predict the future, and you, now just as much as he does, would like to see how far this could go. 

“Yeah it-, that makes complete sense,” you stammer, feeling incredibly vulnerable all of a sudden. You rest your head against his chest again, settling back into your slow sway to the beat. 

Like clockwork, the song ends, something a little more upbeat trickling in through the speakers. You and Luca remain in each others’ arms, content to stay here forever. You’re amazed at his confidence, at his fearlessness to take a chance on love, and you think to yourself, he might be teaching you some of that too. 

“Let’s take a trip together,” Luca suggests, the low resonance of his voice cutting through the quiet. “Maybe end of the month or something. An end of summer trip.” He chuckles, a hand coming up to stroke your hair as you enjoy the way his voice vibrates in his chest. 

“Fuck it. I could care less if we make it in time for the end of summer. Let’s just get out of the city together.” 

“That sounds spectacular,” you answer. 

And it’s there, in Luca’s arms after a dance party for two, that you think to yourself, you couldn’t be happier.

[abbyromanoff]

i have an idea/request!

could be series worthy, who knows

but basically, if you’ve watched purple hearts on netflix, i’m kind of thinking about type of storyline where g!p nat is (kind of) in luke’s position and y/n in cassie’s position (both of the character’s backstory can be changed) but yk, i was just thinking about military!natty and how hot she would look wearing a military uniform 😋

HEART TO HEART

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2168

WARNINGS: angst, small smut near the end, fluff, Nat is in the military, mentions of death, arranged marriage, money problems, miscommunications, think that’s all!

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Look, I don’t understand why you care so much, we both knew this day would come and besides, this was supposed to be an arranged marriage, we aren’t meant to actually fall in love.” Nat argued, turning to look at your saddened state with guilt hidden in her features. The two of you had only known each other for a few months after you had gotten married. Neither of you had wanted to, but your parents made sure that you both knew it was needed.

She was going into the military, a dream of hers since she was a little girl watching action movies with her dad. She had been struggling with finances for years, and so was her family. And in hopes of caring for both herself and her loved ones, she needed the benefits of joining the army, but that was only achievable with marriage.

You had come from a well-financed family, but that didn’t mean they were willing to hand you money whenever you asked. While trying to reach your goal of becoming a singer and songwriter, it had cost you loads of checks with no return. You were barely making it by every week with your part-time job and needed money quickly. Your parents offered a suggestion, and at first, you thought it may be a good idea, that was until now.

It would be a platonic marriage and once it was no longer needed, you’d depart with a divorce signing, a possibility of remaining friends or forgetting each other’s existence. But it didn’t go as planned, you felt wrong for trying to go on dates or sleep with others, and you’d dream of your wife on the regular. It wasn’t hard to fall for her, she was a respectful woman with dreams of meeting another similar to her and becoming a family man. Not to mention her beauty was beyond imaginable, you were star-struck the moment you laid eyes on her.

“You think I don’t know that, Nat? Do you think I wanted this? To fall in love with you when I’m not supposed to even sleep in the same bed as you?” While the suit she wore made her look even more attractive, it only pained you to know she’d be wearing that as she left to risk her life for the ones who didn’t even know of her name.

“I can’t help how I feel, Natasha. I know this is your dream and I love that for you, I do. But, I- I just don’t want to lose you, I don’t think I could handle it.” She sighed and averted her eyes to the wooden floor, quiet sniffles being heard from your end. You suddenly felt arms being wrapped around your body in an attempt at a hug and you graciously accepted it, knowing whose warmth it was.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” She whispered into your shoulder as her hat poked your head. Truth be told, you weren’t the only one feeling this way. She had tried hiding it in hopes you wouldn’t pick up on it, and you didn’t, you were too busy worrying about your own feelings that you hadn’t even considered hers.

She was hoping that this marriage wouldn’t have to end or else she’d have to learn to live without you again. She hadn’t feared the thought of death before you came into her life, now she feared losing you more than anything.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, Y/N. I understand, okay? I’m not mad at you, I could never be.” She interrupted, mumbling her sweet words into your neck. She was able to catch a small whiff of your perfume, and she could suddenly remember the time you begged her to take you to the store and help you pick out a new fragrance. After nearly an hour of searching, she chose this one, and you had worn it every day since.

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle hearing that you…that you died without getting to tell you how I truly feel.” She nodded, letting you continue on. Her heart felt like it was ripping when you stuttered over your words, your weakness on display. You were never one to show it, but you couldn’t stop the shake in your voice or the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, baby, I know.” The name brought a small crack of a smile to your lips, but it soon faded when you were brought back to the remembrance of where you were. She was set to leave in less than an hour, and you didn’t know if this would be your last hour with her.

“I- I need to go, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave.” You quickly rushed to tighten your hands around her when feeling hers start to loosen.

“No, no, no, please. Please don’t leave me here, Natty.” She wanted more than nothing to listen to you and stay, but her hopes and dreams were coming into play and so were the lives of many, she couldn’t ruin this opportunity.

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice.” You understood, you did, but your heart and mind were at a battle. Your mind was telling you to force her to stay, live your life happily and tell her how you feel, but your heart was telling you to let her go, that you were being selfish trying to ruin her dreams when she only supported yours. You always told her to follow her heart, and you knew you had to take your own advice.

“I know, I know you don’t. God, I- I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think I can see my life without you now. All I see when I look into the future is you, and I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. I really can’t, Nat.” She wanted to tell you everything, that she felt the same, but there was no time. If she didn’t leave she’d risk everything, she’d risk her job that she went through so much mental and physical pain to have.

“I love you, lyubov moya. (my love)” That was the last time you heard her voice in what felt like years. You weren’t able to handle the pain of living in the house that carried so many memories in it, so you made the tough decision to move out. The house was still in her name, and you continued to pay for as many bills as it required, even while still struggling to pay for your own.

It took eight months and twenty-six days before Nat was able to return, she counted each day. You were on her mind the entire time. When she had gotten badly hurt on a mission, the unbearable pain causing her to wish for death, she thought of you. She thought of everything you had together, how she wouldn’t be able to confess if she didn’t make it.

At the same time, she worried you moved on, found someone new and started a life with them that she would only be able to dream of having. Would you be able to move on this quickly? She knew that if you truly did love her as much as you said, you wouldn’t be able to, and she didn’t want you to. But another part of her wished you would, she wanted you to find peace and happiness, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to give you that.

Every day that she could, she’d write you letters. She wasn’t able to call or text you as she was told, so she’d pick up a pen and write paragraphs on end about how much she missed you. She could only hope you read or even received them.

She came home today, and hearing the complete silence in her home brought tears of anguish. All she wanted was to be greeted by you, but she was guessing you had left her, maybe even for good. There was a pile of sealed letters on the doorstep and she realized they were the ones she sent without knowing of your new address. She felt ashamed, embarrassed to have sent all of those with the thought that you’d read them and realize she still thought of you every damn day. But you didn’t know, you were left clueless to her love. She needed to change that.

You heard a knock on your apartment door as you finished brushing your teeth and were about to grab a glass of water. You furrowed your brows in confusion before slowly walking to the door, you never had guests, especially at this hour. You looked through the peephole and stepped back at what you saw, or who you saw.

Nat heard a rushing of locks unlocking and smiled to herself, you knew she was home. You opened the door and hurriedly let your arms wrap around her in a hug, finally feeling her warm embrace after so long. The emptiness in your heart was slowly being filled the longer you held onto her.

“Hello, detka. (baby)” Her eyelids squeezed shut as her arms held the same tightness around your body as yours did to her, she was too afraid to let you go.

“When did you get home?” She finally leaned back, resting her forehead against yours gently as her hand moved to cup your cheek.

“Just a few hours ago, you were the first person I wanted to see.” You smiled before your eyes drifted to notice the cardboard box sitting on the ground next to her. She looked in that direction and chuckled to herself before explaining.

“I wrote to you every day that I could. I didn’t know you moved so I sent them to the house, I thought I’d bring them in case you, I don’t know, wanted to look at them or something.” She hesitantly spoke, fear of rejection scorching through her. She didn’t know why she was so afraid, it was you, after all, and she didn’t fear anything when she was with you.

“Oh, Nat, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” She shushed you and moved her other hand to your face, cupping both of your cheeks and having you look at her.

“Shh, don’t apologize, I’m not upset with you. If anything, I’m more upset with myself.”

“You did nothing wrong, nothing at all.” She looked down suddenly, shuffling her feet nervously.

“I’m sorry for leaving that day. I wanted to stay, I wanted to tell you everything, and I wish I did. That’s why I wrote all these letters in hope that you’d realize I feel the same. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world, and I think I always have.” She was swapping her gaze between your eyes and lips, and you knew that if you didn’t make the move, she never would. So, you leaned in closer, letting your mouth press into hers as you sank into the feeling of her plump lips. You were standing on your tiptoes to reach her height, and you reached up to pull her hat off of her head, letting your fingers run through her hair as you pulled her further into you. Her body pressed against yours as she grinned into the kiss, her tongue poking your lips and exploring your mouth when you granted her access. She was desperate to feel you in any way that you’d let her, and you were on the exact same page.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and every day I regret not telling you that sooner. So, if you’ll let me, I want to make it up to you.” She mumbled when you pulled back to catch your breath. You panted, your chest rising up and down as you admired her in full glory. You weren’t able to take notice of her clothing when you were too busy registering that she was actually here and it wasn't just a dream. But seeing her in the camo pants adorned by a buckled belt and a dark green shirt made you feel things you’ve never felt before she came into your life.

Her hands found their way to the back of your thighs as she lifted you into her hold, your wandering hands stopping at the biceps that flexed under her shirt. You could feel a small tint in her pants and bit your lip as you shuttered. Your hands traveled to the back of her neck as you played with the baby hairs, feeling goosebumps rise to the surface of her soft skin.

“May I?” She walked further into your cheap apartment, and you suddenly felt ashamed at the state of the place. It showed off your struggles in payment, but hidden under that, it showed the reason you were able to meet what you hoped would be the love of your life.

“You may.”