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i-literally-cant-with-this · 7 months

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A/N ::: New writing territory alert! I haven’t written anything like this before. And I’ll tell you all a secret, *I fucking loved it.* I hope you guys enjoy this, too. Thanks for reading!

C/W ::: Sex, themes of violence just in case. MILD SPOILERS FOR MHA (Between Endeavor/Shoto/Shoto’s mom), angst, cheating, terrible terrible parenting, dom(ish?)!Endeavor, size kink (?), “say my name”, praise, degradation (self-deprecation, too), pet names (firefly, good girl & others) “daddy” talk, little bit of biting, orgasm control, F->M oral, deep throating // (forceful) throat fucking, teensy bit of dacryphilia, hair pulling, face // chest cum shots, (heavily & non-verbally) encouraged cum eating, Shoto going in after Endeavor on F!reader // girlfriend // fuck toy. Whew! If I missed anything, shoot me a message.

WC ::: 3500+ (but not too much over)

It was after the Christmas party at your house and the only people left were your boyfriend, Shoto, and his dad, Enji. AKA Endeavor, the now number 1 hero. The two men stood there and stared each other down. Shoto and Enji have a shit relationship, to say the least. He was a shit dad and Shoto hasn't yet been able to at least move on from his childhood. Watching his mother get thrown around like she was nothing more than a dirty towel to be tossed aside. No, he wasn't ready to let his father into his life fully, just yet.

They stood across the large kitchen island, glaring at one another. Their arms folded across their broad chests. Neither one is willing to make the first move. You hated that they were behaving like this at your house. And you hated how you felt about both of them.

You were in love with Shoto. But you were in lust with his father. And you'd been sleeping with both of them for some time now. It's a miracle Shoto hasn't found out about you fucking his dad. Enji has no real feelings on the matter. You're not even sure if he has real feelings for you, at this point. You love his son. And there wasn't much in the world that could change that. But you crave Enji's cock.

"I just don't understand why you're still here, Endeavor." Shoto called him out by his hero name. "The party is over. You're free to go now. And maybe next time just stay home, yeah?" You looked at Enji, waiting for his reply. He just leaned there, against the counter he fucked you on 3 days ago. Not a twinge of guilt in his turquoise eyes, not a hint of interest in what his son was saying to him. Still.

"Sho?" You said more quietly than you intended to, hoping to break the tension between the two. "Do you want to take a walk, maybe?" He shifted his eyes toward you. Shoto stared, a steel gray eye and a turquoise eye, like his father's, burned into yours. So much anger radiated off of his body that you could almost feel it from where you were standing near the kitchen door. Shoto nodded his head and went to the living room to grab his coat and put it on as he walked toward the door. "You ... D'you want me to come with you?" You hated that you hated asking.

And it wasn’t because you didn't want to go with him out into the cold. The disgusting truth was that you didn't want to miss the opportunity to be alone with his dad. And you felt dirty about all of it. Shoto fucked you earlier in the day before the party. His cum was probably still oozing from your hole. If you concentrated hard enough, you could most likely feel it leaking out with how full you were from him.

He stayed by the front door for what felt like forever, just looking at you with no real emotion on his face. Just a blank canvas staring back at you before he shook his head no in an almost indistinguishable manner. Then he slammed the heavy wood door behind him. You fell onto the nearest chair and held your face in your hands and began to cry softly. What about, you weren't sure. The fact that you felt relief at having time to be with Enji again or the fact that you didn't have to play referee in your own home.

A wide, hot hand ran down your back and rested at your waist. "He's gone. For how long?" Enji asked. You wanted to melt into his touch. To jump over the chair and wrap yourself around his broad body. "I don't know, En. He could be 5 minutes, he could be 5 hours. And I think, I think that you should go, too." His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Now, firefly. You," he kissed the side of your neck hard and ran his oversized hand around your waist, "surely don't mean that. I can tell by how you're sitting you want me to shove my cock in your drippin' cunt."

Fuck. How can he tell that by how you're sitting? The asshole. He had come to know you so well in such a short amount of time. Almost as well as his son. It was a little nerve-wracking that they could both see through your shit. "Enj-!!" He was lifting you before you had a chance to protest his advance.

You wrapped yourself around his body. Your legs spread from the girth of his hips - despite them being narrow and angular in their own way. He was a big man. And it was so hard for you to tell him no when he was like this. It was painfully obvious how hard he was. And it was obvious to him how wet you were getting from just him hoisting you up like you were nothing more than a doll for him to wet his dick in.

The way he made you feel so small was a sickening and growing obsession. You both have managed to keep it from Shoto thus far. But on days like this, when you have no idea when he would be home, it was a dangerous game to play. "En ... fuck. We can't. Sh-Sho- shit. He can walk through the door any second." You said it in such a whiny voice it made his cock twitch against his thigh. "Let him. Let him see what it looks like when a real man fucks his girl. Who am I, firefly. Who, nngh," he adjusted you on his waist and started to carry you down the hallway to a bedroom. "Who am I."

His hands gripped your ass tightly as he kicked the door open and walked through it with little space to spare. "Enj, fuck. C'mon. Please ..." Your resistance was dwindling quickly as he got you closer to the spare bed. "Who's 'Enj'? Tell me ... exactly who ... the fuck ... I am. You little shit." He whispered against the shell of your ear. His hot breath sent shivers through your warming body.

And just like that, 3 words later, you were gone. Wrapping your arms around his neck and anchoring your heels on his ass you pushed/pulled yourself up onto him even further and ground against his pelvis. "There she is. There's my good girl, rubbin' that cunt against me. So needy for this fat cock, huh?" He leaned over you as you hung from him just a few inches over the bed. You clung to him like a desperate little baby. Enji waited for you to let go and lay under his huge frame.

You ran your hands down his back to the waistband of his dark blue slacks and slid them inside of his pants. His off-white cashmere sweater was a wild contrast to his rough hands and scarred body. But all of him felt good to you.

His body framed you against the small mattress. You lay there beneath him, trembling in anticipation of what he's going to make you do. "Take it ... off." He whispered again in your ear while he lifted himself up from you. You sat up and began to undress. He took off his own clothes, one piece at a time, watching you all the while.

He was so ... And it was so … wrong that you were about to fuck him in your own house. While your boyfriend was out in the cold. "Fuck," you whispered, shaking your head as you slipped your bra off and flung it to the floor. "Fuck it, En." You pulled him down to the bed with you and kissed him hard.

The smell of his cologne and the taste of his tongue made you high. It made you want him more than you wanted to admit to yourself. The heady fragrance had you so wet that you could barely look him in the eyes. "Well," he said in a low growl. "Lookit what we have here. My little firefly is so fuckin' wet for her pissant of a boyfriend's dad, huh? Shame on you, girl. You're so dirty for this, aren't you? Fucking filthy little bitch, hm?"

You bit your bottom lip, it felt like you were nearly drawing blood. Finally, you nodded your head and looked up at him and whimpered so pathetically. "Yessss, daddy. 'M a filthy little bitch. I'm disgusting … hnngh, please, Enj- please Endeavor, fuck me. Oh god, fuck … meee-uhhh." You were babbling and begging him to do something. Anything. You just needed his cock in you.

Your fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders as he leaned over you and rubbed his cockhead against your clit. "That's it, baby. So wet and ready for me. Let daddy fuck you. Let me fuck you better than my little runt of a son can." He thrust into you quickly and you cried out as your body struggled to adjust to the immediate stretch.

"Shhhh, shhh, baby. Be a good girl and take this dick. Fuckin' take it, baby. You can do it." His hips worked quickly and furiously as he slammed into you. Your legs trembled and your back arched as he fucked you with a fervor you didn't know existed in him. "Fuckohhhhfuck! En-Endeav-fuckfuck!" He bit your neck hard and you moaned into his shoulder as you came around him.

He flipped you onto your stomach and grabbed your ass, pulling you up onto your knees and spreading your legs open. "Now that you're all warmed up ..." You braced yourself for the intrusion, but his cock slid inside of you with ease. The copious amount of slick he dragged from you made it nearly free of any resistance. "Ohhh, yeah. That's my fuckin' girl. Take it, take it like the nasty whore you are. C'mon, fuck that fat ass of yours into me, firefly. I wanna watch you bounce back on my cock. Fuck, that's it."

He leaned back and watched you work your body back and forth, pushing yourself onto his cock and then pulling back. "Fuck, baby. You're so good at this. You're so good for me. Keep going, fuck that cock. Mm-hm, back into me, fuck, fuuuckk yeah." You felt filthy as you did as he told you. The way he was watching you bounce and fuck yourself on him was enough to make you cum again.

He pulled you back up to him and wrapped his hand around your throat. "Oh, you think you can cum without my permission, huh? You little slut, you can't do shit until I tell you to." You whimpered and nodded your head, trying to say sorry. "Don't ... fucking speak. Just open your mouth and let me fuck it."

He pulled out of you and stood at the edge of the bed, motioning for you to scoot around and lay in front of him. You moved over so your face was just under his cock and he tapped the head on your lips. "Open up, firefly. 'M gonna fuck your throat now since you can't seem to control that cunt of yours. C'mon, pop that tongue out f'me. Say 'ahhh' and relax."

You stuck your tongue out and opened your mouth, looking up at him with what you hoped was a look of submission. He smirked down at you and ran his fingers through your hair. "Good girl. That's my fuckin' girl. Take it, take … aha, shhiitt … it." He shoved his cock into your mouth and fucked your throat. Your eyes watered as he thrust against the back of your throat.

You coughed and gagged, but he kept going. "You know I love watching you cry, little girl. Keep it up and I might just cum in your mouth for you. Y'wan that? Huh? Want me to make a mess of your pretty face?" He pushed himself further into you and you gagged again, nodding your head. "Goddamn it, girl. You're so fuckin' dirty for me. I just can't get enough of it. You're so fuckin' lewd."

He pulled out of your mouth and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back as he shot his load onto your face and chest. "Ohhhh, fuck! Fuck, that's my little bitch. Lookit you, so filthy and used. You're such a whore, little girl. Such a dirty whore." He ran his finger through his cum on your cheek and pushed it into your mouth.

You sucked his cum off of his fingers, moaning as you did it. He grabbed his clothes and pulled them back on. "Thanks, firefly. See you next time." He grabbed you by the back of the head, kissed you hard on the mouth and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. You heard him leave the house and you fell back onto the bed, breathing hard. It took you about 10 minutes to regulate yourself. Replaying the events that had just unfolded in your foggy mind.

You didn't have much time to think about it before you heard Shoto's keys in the door. So you jumped up and ran for the shower across the hall. "Firefly? I - I'm home. Where are you?" Shoto asked as he hung his coat and dropped his keys on the entryway table. "Is the old man gone? I didn't see his car, so I'm hoping ... hoping he is." He saw you dart across the way to the bathroom and heard the water turn on. "Hey. There you are," he said quietly. "D'ya mind if I join you in there? 'M freezin' my ass off."

Hell. Of course he wanted to shower with you. "Yeah yeah. Sure. Just give me like 10 minutes to wash the day off of me, ok, Sho? I just, I feel ... icky. After the party, I mean. Just wanna clean up. And then you can stand under the hot water, ok?" He smiled and tried to lean in to kiss you but you pulled back and looked around the room. Smirking, you said, "Ah-ah-ah mister. There's no mistletoe in here!” And laughed like a stupid girl who wasn't fucking her boyfriend's asshole of a father while he was out in the freezing weather. Away from his home, just to get away from his dad.

"Ohp, ya got me there, firefly. I'll have to pick some up in that case. Just let me know when you're ready for me, ok?" You smiled and blew him a kiss feeling your hand stick to the cum that was nearly all dried now. Turning on the shower you tested the water. Briefly contemplating turning the heat all the way up and scalding yourself for being such a whore. But you decided against it, knowing you'd have to explain it to Shoto later. And you just couldn't bring yourself to hurt him that way. Not even after what you just did.

He was waiting for you in your bedroom, scrolling through his phone, when you called for him. You stood with the shower door open and motioned for him to come in with you. "You ok, baby? You seem, I dunno. Off." He pulled you into his chest and kissed from your shoulder to your neck, to your lips. "Yeah, I'm fine Sho. Just tired, I guess. I hate when you and your dad go head to head like that. I mean, I know you didn't fight like you usually do. But I just hate to see you so upset." You look up and rest your forehead against his, sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry, firefly. I know. I just, he just ... He's such a fuckin' prick and I don't know what else to do with him. He just, he's so much easier to deal with when you're around. I dunno why. It’s like he’s less of an asshole when … huh. Well, when you’re there. I guess he must really like you." He kissed your neck and ran his fingers through your wet hair. You turned to face him and held onto his waist. "I love you, Sho. I love you so much." He looked down at you with a sad smile. "I know you do. And I love you, too." He pulled you up and kissed you deeply.

The taste of your own cum was still in your mouth from swallowing Enji's cock, but Shoto didn't seem to notice. He was just happy to be back with you. You both laughed as you played in the water. Teasing one another and fooling around. "Hey, Sho?" You said as you pulled the shower head down and rinsed him off. "Hmm?" He closed his eyes and let you do whatever you were doing. "Merry Christmas. I'm glad you're here with me. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time." You turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you. "Merry Christmas to you, too, my love. And I'm glad I'm here with you, too."

You kissed him and then grabbed another towel for him. He wrapped it around his waist and followed you into the bedroom. As you passed into your room, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your mascara was running and your eyes were red. The bruise on your neck from Endeavor was still visible and you hoped like hell that Shoto didn't see it. Though you don’t know how he could possibly miss something like that. So large and new.

You turned to him and smiled. "Hey, Sho? Could you bring me something for pain? My head is killing me right now." He nodded and left the room to grab something from the kitchen. You went to the mirror and stared at yourself. "You're a fucking whore," you whispered to yourself. "And you can't stop it." You knew it was true. You just hoped you could keep it from Shoto for a little bit longer.

"Hey, here you go, baby. Take these and lay down. Let me get you something to drink. Do you want me to bring you anything else?" You smiled at him and shook your head. "No, Sho. This is all I need right now. Just you and me. Here. At home." You took the medicine he gave you and watched him leave the room. You curled up in your bed and covered yourself up, feeling so guilty and so fucking gross. It made you feel sick. And it made you feel good. You were just a whore. A filthy, disgusting whore who was in love with her boyfriend and in lust with his father. And you had to live with it. You had to live with the fact that you weren't strong enough to stop yet.

Shoto came in and took the towel off of his waist and crawled into bed with you, scooching up next to you really close and nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck. “How does your head feel, firefly? Is it any better?” He asked as he began to kiss your collarbone and roll your nipple with his thumb and finger. “Is there something else I can do? To make it go away? Like …” He slid down the bed. Under the covers and between your legs and you felt him lick a fat strip up your slit. “Oh, Sho- ffuucckk, baby, I - hnngh … please … d-don’t …” Tears pricked your eyes as you felt him spreading you open and sucking on your clit. He laughed, “You’re so wet already. You gonna say ‘don’t stop’? Don’t worry baby. I’ll never stop. Never.”

You realized that you just wanted to be loved. You close your eyes and indulge your sweet boyfriend with his love of eating your pussy and prayed that it would all go away. That it would all just disappear. And that you would be free. Free of the guilt and the shame. And the lust for his dickhead father. You just wanted to be free of it all. And you didn't know if you could. Not yet. So you just lay there, basking in the warmth of your lover and his tongue lapping at your juices (and some of his father's) like he truly knew what it was like to be thirsty. And you rode out your orgasm. Crying tears of guilt and regret and only a little bit of pleasure. And you waited for it all to be over. But deep down, you knew it wouldn't be,

Not for a long, long time.

Taglist ::: @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @callm3senpaii @millennialmagicalgirl

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dragon-chica · 2 years

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Wednesday Addams NSF W Headcanons Part 7

Fandom: Wednesday

*Joey Batey voice* Let's bury this.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Wednesday's down for a lot of things, but anything particularly mess (bodily fluids or food) does not interest her. Neither does anything too cutesy or tame, manacles over fuzzy handcuffs, it makes all the difference. She may be a little insistent if she's excited to try something, but if you really are against it she wouldn't force you into anything.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Both actually, she enjoys being rough with you and you with her, but also you tend to take your time and draw it out, both can happen in the same session. But fast isn't common unless you've talked her into a quickie.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): (Honestly my man, I do not know what to put here. So I will take my friend's suggestion of Underwear) Wednesday's underwear would either by plain black or gray cotton panties, or a very fancy black lace that looks stunning on her. Likely accompanied by garters.

On the cotton panties, you've also bought her some halloween underwear, sort of as a joke, not expecting her to ever wear them. She rolls her eyes and tossed them toward the back of her room, but surprises you later when you discover she's decorated with little bats and pumpkins you bought :') If there's too much color she'll complain that "they itch" and you'd better get them off of her quickly.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): It's very rare that she's exhausted when you're through, but she says "it's routine" that you cuddle afterwards (she actually enjoys it a lot) and will stay wrapped up with you. It depends on if she has something else to go do and how comfy you are on if she goes to sleep or just waits awhile before getting up.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): (I did this one before but wanted to do it again.) Wednesday has a tweaked Voodoo doll she made of you to 'punish' you if she needs to during the day. Could be something you agreed on, or just really got on her nerves. It can go from pressure on the doll making you suddenly feel a need building up, or her pricking it like a regular doll and you always know that's why.

The last part. The entire alphabet is DONE. Good Gods. whew. I also ran out of different Wednesday gifs in tumblr search.

#Wednesday Addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagine #my stuff

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sheabuttahwrites · 1 year

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in the Morning

story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

sounds// Peabo Bryson - Feel The Fire, Isley Brothers - Spend the Night (Ce Soir), The O'Jays - Forever Mine

IV.

“Oh, shit. What’s up?” He smiled back and it was even more killer in person. Especially with the surprise of gleaming gold fangs and the matching slugs I could see peeking from behind his bottom lip. I had to remind myself to breathe. “You came.”

“I told you I was on the way.”

“Nah, I thought you was fucking with me.” Laughter took over the conversation as he opened the door a bit wider, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

Hell, I could barely believe I’d shown up myself. I had never really been shy, but he’d brought a boldness out of me that even I hadn’t seen.

When I passed him, I noticed that he was still significantly taller than me in four inch heels. Damn. Not like I wasn't overdue for a climbing lesson anyway. The scent of his cologne was also quite alluring. The woody, smoky fragrance pervaded my senses, warming all the spots that shot had missed. Of course he would smell just as good as he looked. He may not have believed I would be there tonight, but he had damn sure been prepared.

“I can take your jacket.”

“Oh, sure.” I went to slip it from my shoulders, but he circled behind me and took the collar into his hands.

“Here, I got you.”

Taken aback by his unexpected chivalry, I was stuck watching him walk back to the closet to carefully put it away.

“This is dope. The gold on here go crazy.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. Had to have it.”

“Good choice.” He grinned as he strolled back over to me. “I like your whole get-up, though. You look good, girl.” The intensity he radiated in person was unreal. His blinding smile. Those piercing brown eyes. The once-over he gave me felt like he was sexing me up already.

Of course, I was a flustered mess. “Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I held up my bottle for him to see. “Wine. Actually, could I put it in your fridge?”

“Yeah.” He reached for it, so I gave it to him. Then he nodded to the left. “This way.”

We left the foyer and I followed him past a gorgeous living area, subtly admiring my surroundings. The height of the ceilings had caught my attention right away. All of it was stunning. Far from the bare walls, futon, and flat screens I had half expected. Off white walls and dark wood floors made up the most of it, but the decor was so sophisticated and refined. I’d already clocked a painting and coffee table that I wanted for myself. I could tell it had been carefully curated. I should've known he would give nothing less. We walked through an arched doorway into a kitchen that made me feel like cooking for some strange reason. Just like everything else I’d seen, it looked like something from a magazine. Shades of gray, black, white and green complemented each other well among all the satiny stainless steel. There were even fresh tulips sitting in the middle of the island. I was giving one of them a smell when he came over, leaning up against the marble counter with me.

“I put it in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Having to look up was already doing something different for me, but the way he was smiling down at me made it so much worse. Prolonged eye contact was his thing, I’d already gathered. It felt like he was staring into my soul. Whew! “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not every day something this fine just lands on your doorstep.”

My head dropped into a faint laugh. “Baby, you ain't gotta butter me up. I’m already here.”

“I ain't tryna do nothing of the sort. I meant what I said.”

“Ok. So, you just be up in here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

I smacked my lips, less than convinced. “Yeah, aight.”

“You a trip,” he chuckled.

“Nah, you the one.”

“How?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I said, grinning as I waved him off.

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered. “I really don’t be having company like that, though. I know it might not seem like it, but I’m usually a pretty private person. I don’t like too many people in my business.”

“So, why you breaking all your rules for me then?”

“I don’t know…” He leaned a little closer. “Just something about you.”

I rolled my eyes through the inevitable smile that followed his and that sly admission. “You know what, I know I just gave it to you to put away, but could I pour myself a glass?”

“Oh, yeah. Fasho.” He walked back over to the freezer and pulled out my bottle. Then he went to a cabinet for a wine glass before taking an electric corkscrew from a drawer. Once the bottle was open, he stepped back, presenting it all to me with an outstretched hand.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I poured myself a big glass, just low enough to prevent any spills while I walked.

“You only brought one glass. You don't want any?”

“Nah. I’m more of a Hennessy man, myself.”

“Aah, ok.”

“I can put it back for you, though.”

“I think I’ma just keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, this is good enough.”

“Aight.” He reclaimed his position at the island. “So, um, I feel like you breaking some of your rules for me, too.”

“…Maybe,” I said, after finishing a big sip.

“How you get so brave?”

I frowned. “Why you saying that like you about to chop me up and plaster me into your walls?”

“Damn, girl.” I cracked at the sudden shock that appeared on his face and we laughed so hard. “I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

“Yeah, my girl wanted me to stay home real bad. But I don't know. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance. Plus, you didn't give me serial killer vibes. Didn’t see a windowless van on the premises either, sooo…”

His smile was beaming as we shared another laugh. “You funny.”

I shrugged a shoulder, preparing for my next sip. “So I’ve been told.”

He waited for me to finish before he motioned his head toward where we had just come from. “Come on.” Then he turned to walk off, and, once again, I followed.

“And, anyway, for all you know, I could be crazy.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Oh, I can take you.”

I gasped in false disbelief. “Excuse you. I could have weapons of mass destruction.”

“What? Like a chainsaw?”

He glanced back at me as we neared the stairs and I busted out laughing. “Now that wasn't even me. My girl put that one in my head.”

“What she think, I’m Leatherface?”

“Shit, you never know nowadays.”

“You ‘bout right. But you can let her know you in good hands.”

“I figured as much.”

He smiled, stopping at the stairs. “After you,” he said, holding his arm out for me to step ahead of him.

After giving him my bottle, I grabbed the glass railing with my freed hand. I made my way up the curved staircase, swaying my little bit of booty in case he was watching, and losing count of how many steps I was taking.

“You better catch me if I fall.”

“I got you.” I laughed to myself as we finally reached the top. I waited for him to take the lead again and he came around me, settling his hand on my waist. “This way, mama.”

A floral, citrusy scent met me as soon as I stepped into his bedroom. Probably from the candles lit in various spots all around it. They also provided the light, along with two lamps on the wall framing the head of his bed. “It smells so good in here.”

“I tried to hook it up for you a lil bit.”

“I like it.” The click of my heels on his gray hardwood floors was briefly muted as I strutted onto an oversized circular rug en route to his bed. The couch was nice and spacious, but the bed was much more inviting. The comforter looked cloudlike and the corner of the sheet that was exposed looked fresh. It was huge, too. Likely out of necessity. I sat on the edge and stared over at the window wall across from me as I took a feel. It was just as comfortable as I’d presumed, maybe even more. “Why you way over there? You got—what you called me?—‘something this fine’ all in your bed, and you just gon’ stand there?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Come here then.”

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

I kicked my shoes off before sliding myself to the opposite side. “Better?”

“Much.” He came over and sat against the fluted headboard as I sat just a couple feet away from him. At that point, I took my phone from my purse and killed the power. I was not about to let anybody spoil my night. “What kind of music you like?”

“I’m an R&B junkie.”

“Ok.” He picked up his phone, plugged up on the table beside him. “Let me guess. 90’s and early 2000’s, right?”

“Duh! I love my oldies, too, though.”

“Word?”

“Yes. I spent the first fourteen years of my life almost exclusively with my grandparents. They blessed me.”

“Ok. What you know about this then?” After a couple taps, ‘Spend The Night’ by The Isley Brothers began to play.

“Boy, what? This my shit.”

“…You grooving your ass off, this really your shit.”

I howled, because I hadn’t even realized. Maybe it was the near-emptiness of my glass that had my shoulders and waist moving without my knowledge.

“Anyway. So, what’s your favorite genre?”

“My music taste kinda eclectic. I like a lil bit of everything.”

“Like what?”

“Funk. Bounce. Jazz.”

“Okayyy.”

“R&B,” he continued, making sure to look me in the eye for that one. “House.”

“Ooh, I love House.”

“Yeah. But that’s just a few.”

I nodded. “Ok, next question.”

“What’s up?”

“Why you sit my bottle so far awaaaay?” I whined, staring longingly toward his dresser as I went to leave the bed. He laughed.

“My bad. I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m just messing with you. I got it.” I walked over to fill my glass again, bobbing my head to my jam.

“You mind if I smoke?”

“This your place, baby. You can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you my guest. And, if I’m a bad host, you might not wanna come back.”

I squinted up at him, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile, but it didn't work. The charm was just too potent. “It’s cool. Spark up.”

“Aight.”

He leaned over and reached into his top drawer for this little box. I couldn't see inside it, but he pulled out a pre-rolled joint and I just assumed that there were more. This nigga was a stoner in the truest sense.

The level of my glass was starting to fall again and the wine had to be going straight to my feet. Instead of returning to my seat, I opted for a cute little two-step and a couple of slow spins, quietly singing along with Mr. Biggs and Angela Winbush between sips. The song sounded better than it ever had.

“I’m glad I chose this cut.”

I opened my eyes to see that Yahya had changed his position, lying back on his elbows at the edge of the bed and facing me. It took all I had to keep it together. My face was on fire. “Why?”

He smacked his lips at me and took a long drag from the J. I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose.

I returned his smile. Of course I knew. “What that shit taste like?”

“You never smoked before?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Nope. I told you I didn't smoke, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you never?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

“You wanna try it?”

I bit the inside of my lip, not really sure if I should. The scent of weed was something I usually just tolerated, but this didn’t smell too bad. Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about. “Yeah.” I shrugged it off and left my glass on a nearby table, but then it hit me that I had been drinking. “Wait. Should I be doing this with alcohol?”

“It ain’t gon’ do nothing to you.”

“But am I really supposed to mix the two?”

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

I sighed, quelling most of my concerns and taking his hand. He didn’t let me make a single step, pulling me right into his hard chest. He hurried his arm around my waist as my screaming morphed into shared laughs. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” I looked down into his eyes, resting my arms on his shoulders to help get my bearings. The laughter soon faded. Smiles went next.

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display.

That same breathless feeling that had hit me at my computer, smacked the shit out of me again. Just a hundred times stronger. Seeing his brand of fine this close up was devastating. Everything that looked so damn good from afar held all of its integrity and then some. The beard, the lips, the skin, the teeth. Truly immaculate.

“Youuu… are dangerous.” I capped the sentiment with a giggle, but I was not joking.

He frowned with a telling grin in the forefront. “What? I’m harmless.” The elevation in his tone further confirmed the lies.

I pushed myself back up to my feet, flustered as fuck and almost hating how he could make me this way so effortlessly. I really had no idea I was so foldable and, though the circumstances were lovely, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Fuck that.”

He laughed and held the joint up to my lips. “Go slow.”

I looked at it and then back to him, still slightly unsure, but I went ahead. The regret was instant. I choked, coughing up what little smoke I had brought in. And, to make matters worse, he had the nerve to be laughing while I was fighting for my life.

“Naaah, not like that.”

I shook my hanging head. “That’s ok. I don't want to anymore,” I said, fanning myself and trying to catch my breath.

“Come on. I got you.”

I smacked my lips, looking into his half-lidded eyes with my own, and caved without an ounce of pause. Shameful. “...Ok. But, if I don't get it this time, I’m done. And don't laugh.”

“Aight, aight. I won’t laugh.”

“You better not,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

He brought that shit up to my lips again, but, this time, he rested his free hand on my hip. I didn't pay it much mind. I was more focused on preparing myself for this second pull that was probably about to kill me.

“Go slow.”

I followed his instructions and took a relaxed drag. But I forgot to stop, and this nigga just let me keep going. My eyes popped when I realized what I had done. I stood there, cheeks puffed to the brim, not knowing what the hell to do. Again, Yahya was cracking up. I, on the other hand, started to freak out, groaning frantically and tapping at his arm.

“Just open your mouth, girl.”

I opened up and the smoke billowed out and began to float away.

“Now catch it. Inhale.”

I did what I was told once again and watched as some of it disappeared back into my mouth.

“Ok, hold it… now breathe.”

I let go and, surprisingly, all of it came out without me bringing a lung up with it. “I did it!” I beamed, celebrating my first successful puff of Mary.

“Started off a lil rocky, but you finished strong.” I laughed with him, feeling too triumphant to check him for rejoicing in my struggles. “You wanna hit it again?” he asked, after taking another puff.

I nodded. I felt like I had it down, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. If I could do it two times in a row, that meant I could really do it. Feeling myself, I even took it from his hand when he brought it over to me.

“Oh, shit. Ok. You a pro now, huh?”

I was too tickled, but in the merriment I still noticed that he had led his newly unoccupied hand down to my other hip. He kneaded his fingers into me, getting a nice, thorough feel. Naturally, my mind began to wander, imagining all the filthy, disgusting things he could do to me with those huge hands. I looked down at him and he was already staring back. His face was the most relaxed it had been all night. He took his gaze down to where my thighs met and I would swear I heard my girl sigh. This man was so fucking sexy it was almost infuriating. I had to look away. I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass. The pungent smell of weed had possessed the air, the taste of the flower and a little wine were sweet on my tongue, and the sensual poetry of love songs gave us all the right directions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this bad.

“How you feelin’?”

I opened my eyes, tilted my head and brought my hand up to mimic a chef’s kiss.

“See? Stick with me, I can show you some thangs.” I tucked what was left of the J between his lips and he hit it one last time before sitting it over in the ashtray. Then he pulled me closer.

I smiled and bit my lip, gently placing my hands to his chest. When I started to back away, he smiled up at me and loosened his grip, but I could tell he didn't really want to let me go.

“Where you goin’?”

I simply shook my head as I left his grasp. I just wanted to play around with him, make him chase me a little bit. The O’Jays were singing ‘Forever Mine’ and, somehow, I could feel it in my body. Whatever Yahya had for me, I was readyyy! I turned away and clutched the bottom of my shirt with both hands, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. Not a second later, I could see his reflection in the window standing from the bed. Off came his shirt in one swift motion as he walked, then I felt him slide up behind me. The chase was over.

With his hands at my sides, I swayed to the hypnotizing melodies, savoring how good his bare skin felt next to mine. “I love this song.” I spoke quietly, fully entranced. My hands found their way to his, and the difference in size fucked me up even more. I was leading them around to where I needed them, when he latched onto the softness of my belly and started to move toward the window. I shuffled the short distance with him until I was standing directly in front of it. He eased his hold on me and grabbed my hand, placing it onto the glass a little above my head. I looked out over his backyard, wondering if any of his neighbors could see us. Part of me hoped someone could as he played around with the waist of my jeans, touching my skin in light whispers. He crept over to the button, undoing it, what felt to be, intentionally slow. My zipper came down at the same chilling pace. With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat.

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?”

I scratched the glass with his hand still on top of mine, feeling his dick right against my ass. Flames flickered in the near-darkness, but, clearly, we were the hottest in the room. He moved my panties to the side and slipped through the flood until my clit was pounding into the tips of his fingers. A shy moan had barely made it past my lips when he sank them deep. I whimpered loudly, gripping his arm and bending my other hand into a fist, buckling under the pressure.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

I didn't answer. I wasn’t even breathing. Despite me being highly inebriated, my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.”

@19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @lemmewritesomeish @thisiswhatshefelt @teheeboo @shanisims @honestpreference @iamfredtina @blackerthings @judymfmoody @lyrarodriguez @fendionmyfeet @fadingbelieverexpert @chaneajoyyy @astoldbychae @cecereads209 @90sisthenew80s @daddiespamm @lovethecheri @xo-goldengirl @miyuhpapayuh @buttrflybby @jiminie-08 @queengodiva619 -taglist-

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essaysbyciara · 2 years

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You Ain't Her | Erik "Killmonger" Stevens x Reader

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual situations (smut thoughts), conversations about sexual consent (i cannot stress this enough: we all about consent over here. no means no at any time). Whew. So this one put me in a body bag but from a real place. A little artsy-fartsy. Would love your thoughts and feedback if moved to do so. Peace and love.

You and Erik dated. It was brief. A walk in the park here, a dinner and a movie there. The latter had you end up back at Erik’s place. A gorgeous Sunday afternoon, rays of light beaming through his living room. You were celibate, he wasn’t. His hand found the depths of your love as you both stood mere inches apart in the kitchen. He just kissed you and your body sank into his like an anchor in the ocean. You smiled and tried to disengage, his stare priming to snatch your mind, body and soul. His right hand traversed down your body, around your thighs, and under your skirt. Your knees damn near inverted from the impact of his touch.

He watched all chastity leave your body. He’d been thinking about this moment from the time you two met. So had you but after moments of your past made you uncomfortable with being in the private presence of a man, you convinced yourself to wait until a public declaration of love to give up your goods. In the kitchen with your back against the counter, with the sounds of a sweet death echoing off of the cabinets, you forgot. So did he. But your face after it happened said it all. He apologized but it wasn’t enough. You went home and sent a text. “I’m not ready.” You hadn’t been on a date since.

“I know it’s a Wednesday when I see you two here!” The waitress, a grandeur Black woman with coiffed gray coils and electric red acrylic nails, grabs the notepad from her apron to take you and Erik’s order.

“Turkey burger and fries for me.”

“Sounds good, love. And what about your date? Baby girl, what you want?”

You weren’t his date. You were his friend. Long story there but not really. Distance grew between you both. A pandemic, life, struggles and setbacks. A lonely night led you to his Instagram page. A pleasant ache coaxed you into his stories. Still fine as ever. Body on extreme point. It almost isn’t real the way his skin lacquers his frame. A special kind of brown only reserved for supreme deities. You wanted to grab his beard in blissful distress. You whispered the Messiah’s name as you watched him drive around to "Sho Nuff" Reminded you of when he picked you from work that one time. You looked over to the driver’s seat and felt so safe.

“May I have the chicken cobb salad with extra cranberries, please?” You don’t want to correct her assumption that this was a date. Because it wasn’t.

He saw that you were creeping around his stories and proceeded to peek into yours. You post short clips of the songs that move your heart and vintage images of Black women who inspire you to be your best self. You did post one selfie though. You just got your hair done; your hairstylist laced you with the best version of Janet Jackson’s hair circa 1995. The curls of your weave cascaded the hell out of your face. It was perfect. Erik fell back in fascination with you. Liked your story to acknowledge that he peeped you too. You followed him, he followed back.

“Work is beating my ass, man. I’m ready to quit,” Erik says, punctuating his thoughts with a sip of his pink lemonade. “I’ve been looking at jobs in Philly. I’m ready to move.”

“Philly? How does your girl feel about that?”

That’s the plot twist to this story. Erik posted this bomb plate of chicken, dressing, yams and collards in his stories. You replied to ask him where on Earth did he find that type of food in you all’s boring-ass city. The place wasn’t far from you and where he gets his haircut every Wednesday. What you doing next Wednesday? Racked with nerves and guilt, you agreed to meet. You didn’t want to rekindle anything with anybody, especially him. You weren’t dating, your celibacy turning into abstaining, so you didn’t want to lead Erik on by going to dinner. But he’s a friend. There’s nothing wrong with grabbing dinner with a friend.

At dinner, Erik asked you how dating had been. You told him that you haven’t. You asked him the same. Oh, I’ve been in a relationship for almost a year and a half. You felt relief then a tinge of jealousy. Damn the woman that gets to sit on that every night. Damn your faith and your obedience keeping you from doing just that with someone else. Damn those men who violated your trust and consent, turning you into a shell of your former self. They don’t tell you that one of the side effects is a fear that every man is out to encroach your territory with no thoughts about how you would feel to be invaded.

“I ain’t tell her about that yet. I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy.”

“If I were you, I’d tell her.”

She doesn’t know about you or this dinner thing. You asked Erik about it and he told you so. At this point, it’s been months. Eight times. You kept count.

“What do you think about Philly? I know you went to college there.”

“I love it. Tough-ass city but I love it. You’ll find a job in your industry there for sure…”

“Figured that. Maybe I can get shorty to move there with me.”

That’s the thing. You can tell that he loves her. You creeped on her IG page and could tell without a doubt that she’s obsessed with him. There’s a great-looking couple, you know that for sure. That night when you found her IG killed your confidence. You felt like she was prettier than you, extremely put-together. Dressed to crush necks. Perfect smile and knows how to match her foundation with her skin tone. Ain’t a baby hair in revolt. You wondered what he saw in you that made him want to take you out and be seen with you. What made him touch your lips with his own and then proceed to play house in his kitchen. Why did he talk you through your peak and whisper into your ear to not hold back your cries as you touched the mountaintop.

You ain’t her. But she ain’t here right now. So why do you care?

#erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens x reader #erik kilmonger x reader

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redrabbitspod · 1 year

Note

YOU GOT ROBBED ?! Can we have a story time ?

Um, no? Andrew fucking stabbed him before he robbed us?

Okay, here's a story time for you since I know you've missed them.

To start, let me just say we have a ridiculous security system. Like, they probably don't have this shit at the most secure locations okay. My uncle procured it and idk from where, we'll leave it at that. Now, because of this, we've had to tinker with it so we don't get an alert every time one of the chickens beaks a worm to death (RIP worm). Because of that it basically just alerts us when something sets off the security lights.

Now, we're in bed. It's like 3AM and we're sleeping soundly AT THE SAME TIME which happens a lot but it also doesn't happen enough that we appreciate it when it does (trauma lol). Both our phones start buzzing and Andrew fucking ninja kicks out of the bed like someone's burst through our bedroom door and not at all like his phone is softly buzzing near his head. I don't move at all because honestly I'm tired and Andrew seems like he has it handled. A few seconds later I hear who the fuck and that's when I also karate somersault out of the bed to find myself holding a weapon and ready to go. Because that meant a PERSON was setting our shit off.

Andrew's all grimly pulling his arm bands on like 'stay here' and after I got done laughing in his face we crept downstairs. We were watching this person go from shadow to shadow like they thought they could avoid the security lights and it would've been funny if it weren't so sad. We watched him sidle up to the back doors and try the handle and then pull something out like he was going to try to pick the lock. The alarm only hadn't gone off at this point because Andrew disabled it on his phone before it could. So we let him try to pick it. Because why not right? It was laughable. It's an electronic automatic lock like, my brother in Christ. It was never going to work.

Meanwhile Andrew pulls out a donut from somewhere istg I have no idea I guess they were just there in the kitchen which is where the back doors are and we're just hanging out listening to this fucker cursing at the door. Eventually Andrew shoves the last of the donut in his mouth, straightens his armbands and throws the door open.

Okay so listen. Andrew doesn't just stab people unless they deserve it, you know? We were just going to scare the shit out of this guy but then he pulls a gun when he sees us and barrels his way into the house like he's a one man swat team or some shit. Andrew wasn't even phased but AS SOON as that guy pointed a gun at me? Whew. WHEW. It's still gray sweatpant season friends and Andrew sleeps shirtless so this idiot is fucking HALF NAKED with his LONG ASS HAIR everywhere with BLACK ARMBANDS and he pulls a knife out so fast and just stabs THE FUCK out of this guy. Portrait of a small hot man titled 'don't touch my things'.

I'm laughing just thinking about this.

Like right in his side. He crumples to the kitchen floor and I look at Andrew and he looks at the guy and I'm like we're never going to get the blood out of the grout 😭 and Andrew's like he could have killed you you fucking idiot and I was like that gun isn't loaded. The guy at this point is trying to like crawl away so I put a foot on his back to hold him in place. Where tf do you think you're going?! Anyway so Andrew checks the gun and yeah. Not loaded. Like I said. I could just tell idk.

So then what do we do? We COULD call the cops but who wants to deal with the cops? Not perfectly law abiding citizens like us. And let's be real idk why this guy is breaking into houses. He sure broke into the wrong one and he was lucky he didn't step on a cat or something bc I'm not sure he'd have lived to tell this tale. But Andrew calls Aaron 1. To make sure they're okay and no one tried anything over there because The Nieces live there and 2. He didn't want to bloody the Maz or the GS so Aaron's shitty Honda would have to do.

We tie the guy up, load him into Aaron's Honda (I drove because I'm a great getaway driver and Aaron threw the keys out of his front door and said I DONT WANNA KNOW before slamming it again) and dumped him in front of a hospital. At this point Andrew had a shirt on but it was fine because he let me be the one to threaten the guy and if there's something I'm great at (besides being a getaway driver) it's making people believe my threats.

Anyway the guy pissed himself in Aaron's trunk and we're just waiting for him to realize it ☺️

THE END -N

#story time #rr answers 2 #Neil answers 2 #jk fbi guy haha lol

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llycaons · 9 months

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ep35: another slog, but at least nhs is there

gold star, jiang cheng. not physically abusive. really knocking it out of the park

AWW YEAH BRIDGE SCENE

THERE'S the lwj we know. that attentive look, that concern, that clear interest in wwx/ exactly as it should be

they really did spraypaint a leg gray huh

YEAHHHH

god this makes me so sad. wwx doesn't remember that??? he jerks away from lwj a few times this episode, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because he can't quite believe that lwj is really on his side here

doesn't stop him from going all googly-eyed when lwj just picks him up and goes though

*voice of a touch-starved victorian maiden* SCANDALOUS!!!!

wwx is all over the place postres honestly. he's reluctant to open up to lwj, he'll cling to him for protection, he won't understand why lwj is helping him, he'll demand wine from him in random rooms. and get it

oh nhs is so silly

this story is so insane and convoluted, and also why do all the generations of the nies just keep doing this if it's such a bother after the cultivators' deaths. like at a certain point you'd think they'd transition to swords

like what!! that is so impractical and dangerous!

nhs is really the highlight of this episode honestly. agreeing with wwx about HIS OWN ANCESTORS being arrogant, whew

damn jin ling what did you bring to that tomb. do you have access to bombs

oh he's so funny. lwj literally is his social inferior but he puts on such an act and gives lwj all the power in the room (or appearing to) and FLEEING when lwj gives him permission to leave

god you know the bdsm mind games he gets into must be insane

this was such a sweet moment! idk if it's really necessary bc wwx was always a decent friend to nhs, and this makes his identity a bit suspect, but it's still a sweet moment. so THERE person who 0opsted 'jin zixuan was the only character to change for the better'. you fucking idiot

aww here's lwj cleaning the flute. man coming back from fanfic and you can really tell how restricted the censorship made them. not that I liked how the sex scenes in the novel went but there was licking involved well before that. they could never get away with that here

horny little duet (classic)

damn this was insane

okay god this is so cool because we don't see nmj's face close up during this last scene so it just looked like he's threatening them both but in the flashback from his pov you see him looking at jgy and this is actually him pointing baxia at jgy to IDENTIFY HIS KILLER wheee I love those camera tricks. there aren't a lot in these episodes honestly, all the fun stuff stopped in 33. maybe we'll see it in yi city?

but mostly im looking forward to 40 and beyond when wwx and lwj are closer. they're still kind of unsure and stumbling around each other rn and it is SUCH a slog! let's see that soulmate shit!

liked this little detail of nhs gribbing the stone as wx discuss nmj's death

oh my god and it looks literally exactly the same doesn't it

wwx being like 'that little fuck works for the JINS now???' I feel that

'my junior uncle' oh baby 🥺

yesssss you talk about your hopes and dreams and desires baby!!!

LAN WANGJI DRINKING TIME WHEEEE

personal highlights:

bridge scene was so pretty

hand to hand contact. thrilling

every time they asked nhs for something and he agreed only to realize what it was he agreed to and panic. love him

the clever camera work around nmj's death

lwj drinking because he was upset about SL and XXC

#I FORGOT TO POST THIS WHOOPS #cql re-rewatch #only a one-parter #up next: yi city

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writingcold · 2 years

Text

Neapolitan Pt. 6

A/N: Pt. 6 - 18+ only - minors, you need to step away from this now.

*Whew*, this marks the halfway point! Thank you for hanging in there for this smut-fest. If you’ve not read the first five parts, please find the master list for the brick HERE.

It goes without saying at this point in this ridiculous story, but: I do not know any of the gentlemen of GVF. This is a piece of fiction, through and through. Jake is just my blueprint to a very interesting character to me. A muse if you will.

Content Warnings: Alcohol use, partying, adulting, Jake soft dom, fem sub, binding, unprotected sex, double penetration, oral fem/rec, blindfolding and gaging. Some pretty naughty, naughty things are happening here. Jake gets his strawberry.

Word Count: approx 7800 words, you know if you’re counting words, but not errors.

Pt. 6

The week was speeding by beyond her control. The guys were quiet, though Jake seemed to be present everyday. He had stayed not just Sunday night, but Monday night, too. He had browsed through her ‘toy box’ to see if there was something he wanted to use for his pending ‘strawberry’ Sunday. He sat on her deck while she was busy with work from the course. He said that he was going to have to have items delivered to her place as Sam has no boundaries and would tear open any box that arrived at their place. They laughed over what the younger sibling would ramble on about for days if he ever did discover their little games.

Wednesday brought Danny and Sam in for a drink and a nice visit before they had to return home. Apparently, Jake was on a tirade about some riff that none of them but him could seem to understand. Thursday was crazy. Friday found her drowned with a packed bar until closing time at four in the morning. Saturday, Jake had checked in on her in the early afternoon after she had not answered any of his two texts. He made her breakfast and helped her shower for the day. It did not hurt to be sent off with a mind blown from orgasms delivered from his hands. The night was marked insane, as the Hell-wrecker nearly made the wait staff quit in tears. Tony had to quell the drama that his wife had caused in the kitchen, while Violet was left to soothe the nerves of two teens who’s fragile egos were just too glass-like for the boss’ wife.

Four o’clock could not have arrived fast enough. She finally got the last stragglers to leave and she barely had the strength to put the stools onto the tops of the tables. The night had been intense, but at least it was fast. Getting home, she had a cup of tea, a couple pieces of toast and slid into her bed with the full intent of being rested and ready for Jake’s strawberry Sunday.

She had set her alarm for two, though she was awake before one. Her brain would not allow her to settle back down. Instead of fighting she decided to get up, have breakfast and settle into getting the house cleaned up for the week and yard work. Unlike the previous Sunday, the guys were not going to be joining them for dinner. Jake promised that he would cook just for the two of them and they would just take the whole evening to settle in together.

Violet had a feeling that whatever he had planned, it was going to be sensual beyond anything that she had ever experienced. It made her move through her day, each look at the clock only adding to the excitement and anticipation of what the night would bring. He texted at four saying that he was looking forward to seeing her soon. He sent a picture of wildflowers from behind their place.

She climbed into a shower at just after five, using the body wash that had notes of strawberry and thyme. She took time to do her hair and makeup and picked a gauzy sundress that hit just below her knees, and the soft gray looked good against her skin. At six fifteen, Jake was at her door with an apologetic grin, a couple of bottles of wine and an armful of bags. She had left his packages that he had delivered unopened and waiting for him in the living room. He looked brilliant, wearing a black, short sleeved button up, with only two buttons buttoned, with jeans and boots. His smile glowed as he poured her a glass of wine and pointed her towards one of the high stools at the kitchen island.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he started setting out veggies to cut.

Violet leaned back, a whisper of a smile dancing across her mouth. “Why thank you, but I’m sure I’m never as pretty as you, Jake.”

He huffed dramatically. “Well of course not.”

She watched as he moved around the kitchen. The steaks were on one counter, seasoned and resting. The simple wooden bowl he found to toss salad was behind him. He had set into chopping what looked like veggies from the farmers market.

“You must’ve found Holly’s, huh?” she asked, just trying to make small talk.

“No, I was here stealing everything I could from your garden while you were sleeping,” he said, shrugging as a blush crept across his face.

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I was so tempted to see if I could break in, but thought the better of it. I could just picture the headline - ‘Guitarist killed by flying dildo as woman protects herself’.”

She laughed, liking the way the top of his cheeks flustered when he giggled. He wiped his hands on a towel before turning away for a moment. Violet felt the night’s anticipation thicken further. This man was nurturing. This man was sensual. She felt the flutter in her stomach as she thought about how he would dominate her. Would it be degradation, or would it be praise. Would it be begging for touch or would it be prolonged stimulation. Would he be soft, brutal… unforgiving. She had kept her first go simple, but effective for what she needed.

“I’m going to go start the grill,” he said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She grinned. She knew from the sparkle in his eye that he could read it on her that she was thinking about him and his scene. She watched as he opened the umbrella over the table and got himself set up. Jake had a spirit that moved her. He was not as simple as he made himself out to be on his exterior. He carefully crafted what he would show in different scenarios - public, private, even with his family. It was part of his control.

“Hey, if you’re going to reside in that brain of yours,” Jake remarked as he moved back into the kitchen, “I’m going to make you be naked the rest of the night. Do you understand?”

She grinned as she filled her lungs. The edge in his voice was enough to let her know he was serious. Reaching for her wine, she put her thoughts aside. He was finishing up creating a dressing for the salad before setting it to the side. Violet settled into collecting plates and silverware to set the table. A breeze had come up, making it just right for an outside meal. She stepped out to the deck to find that he had his phone out and soft music playing. He moved in behind her, tray in his hands, intent on the grill.

“I plan on plating, so those need to be returned inside,” he said with a nod.

Polite Jake was evaporating. Perhaps it was a clue. Perhaps not. She took the dinner plates back inside. When she returned, she carried the wine and their glasses. When she held his drink out to him, he smiled and pointed to where he wanted it. Interesting. It made her think back over the last thirty minutes. He had not kissed her when he arrived. He had not come close enough for her to touch him either. Hmm. Was it his way of arriving at the mindset he needed for his scene?

“I will not say this again, Violet,” he whispered, a hard edge to his tone, as he set the first steak down with a sizzle. “Be present.”

“Yes, Jacob,” she whispered back, sitting down, eyes cast down so as not to look at him. The sigh of a laugh touched her ears at the sight of her submission.

His scene had already started and she had not even been fucking privy to it. She drew in another breath to calm herself and stomp down the tension that was coiling already in her belly. He started talking about the pending week. How they were making good progress on their writing, and were even setting some pieces to tracks. He told her that he may be out with Danny Wednesday, asking if she was going to be at work. He continued with the one sided conversation, and Violet participated with as few words as possible, polite nods, and soft smiles.

Jake held his hand up to her to stay when he carried the steaks back into the house. Violet let her spine bend and folded into herself for a moment. Her thoughts raced. He had dropped very subtle hints, but no outright words. He wanted her to discover that his scene was already in play. It blew her mind just trying to grasp where he was going to take her.

The soft click of the door made her instantly straighten, hands in lap, face calm. She reached for her wine, glancing up at him when he set down a plate in his spot first, followed by hers. The smell was amazing, though she had watched him create the simple meal. He sat down as she made eye contact over the rim of her glass.

They continued to make small talk. He asked her about what she was going to expect out of her week, edging away from anything funny or would elicit a laugh from herself.

“And the next week,” he started, not as a question. “That week is going to be different.”

She nodded. “Friends visiting that week.”

“You are taking a full week off both jobs?”

She nodded as she sliced a bite of meat. “Ten days off.”

“How many days are your friends here?”

Her stomach twisted at the way his voice remained so rigid. “Five. Five days.”

“Would you deny me if I wanted to fuck you each one of those days.”

“No,” she whispered as her hands couldn’t hold the silverware any more; they were shaking so badly over the prospect.

She raised her eyes to look at him only to find that he stared at her, plate pushed forward, elbows on table and mouth in a fine line. Violet could not read if he was angry or upset or even happy with her. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to ask her more, but instead, he stood and stepped away from the table with his meal only half eaten.

“Violet. I am going to go upstairs to prepare. I want you to put away our food and clean up the kitchen. Use the downstairs bathroom to prepare yourself. Leave your clothes behind. I will call for you when I am ready.”

“Yes, Jacob.”

Her heart thundered in her chest as he moved away from her. The silence that enveloped her felt raw with what was to come. In her mind, she was listing off what they had spoken of two weeks prior - he did not hit beyond a spank. He knew she could not do breath play. She knew that sensory play was on his list of interests, along with toys and… binding. Her eyes rolled back in her head at the thought of being laid out for him. Or, was he going to surprise her with …

“Fucking move, bitch,” she said to herself, grabbing hold of the plates and heading inside.

Jake had cleaned as he cooked, so there was not much to do. Violet moved around the kitchen, finishing her wine, as well as his before putting everything into the dishwasher. She tucked their leftovers into the fridge as her last task and moved around the house, locking up the doors before she took a moment to look up the stairs. She settled into preparing - taking off her clothes, freshening up, making sure her makeup was still in place. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She could do this. This man was going to control her and it was something inside that pleaded with her to feed. It was her chance. She would not allow him to enter this equation as it had for too long.

Instead of allowing her mind to dwell, she moved out of the bathroom returning to the kitchen. Getting out a lowball glass, she took a half shot of whiskey down to steady herself. The air against her skin felt cool, almost comforting. It was almost forty five minutes that Jake had retreated upstairs. She was just starting to worry when she heard the bedroom door open and his footfalls on the floor.

“I am ready, Violet,” he called out, his voice smooth.

She walked to the bottom of the stairs and started towards him. He had not waited for her in the hall, but rather had stepped back into the room to wait for her. When she stepped in, she found tethers on one side of the bed, candles lit on the windowsill and nightstands. He had taken a TV tray from the living room and had it parked by the foot of the bed with a variety of her vibrators and dildos arranged on it. Taking in the scene, her cunt coiled in excitement while her breath came in waves.

Jake stood behind her, hidden. “What is our word that will stop everything?”

“Napoleon,” she answered immediately.

“For tonight, you will be tied, so tapping out will not be easy. You will also be wearing this,” he started, stepping behind her and bringing his arms around her front. “It will not be tight, so you will still be able to talk - but only if you need to use our word. Do you understand?”

Her eyes landed on the ball gag that he held before her. “Yes,” she whispered.

He affixed the gag to her, making sure that it was not too tight for her to breathe or speak if needed.

“You will be tethered on one side and cuffed wrist to ankle on the other. The cuffs are break away, so if at any time you need, or you do not feel safe, you can break the cuffs. Nod if you understand.” She could feel his body move closer when she nodded. In a whisper against her ear, he said, “Violet, remember, no shame in telling me to stop. Never shame. Understand?”

Her heart clenched at the tenderness that he showed. Nodding once more, she felt him withdraw.

“You will also be blindfolded.”

Her brain backflipped. The excitement flooded every nerve, every cell of her body. She was pretty sure that she was shaking as a strip of satin ghosted over her shoulder before it covered her eyes, blocking out everything she knew to be in that room. For the first time that night, he touched her. His fingers slid down the length of her back to the swell of her ass, and over to her hip to guide her forward. He moved her to the bed, helping to her to get into place. She felt her breath quicken as he tied her right wrist, followed by her right ankle. He hummed as he walked to the other side of her.

“You look like you’re already wet,” he said smugly. “What a whore you are. Look at you. I’ve not touched that cunt yet and it’s screaming for me.”

He took her left ankle and hiked it up towards her bottom, then pulled it to the side, not so that it was uncomfortable, but spread her open. He took her hand gently with his other hand and pressed it to his mouth. She gasped as he sucked her fingers.

“Yeah, you so liked watching me suck cock, didn’t you, bitch,” he whispered, before biting the tip of her fingers and sucking them down again. “It leaves me to wonder if you dream of me doing a real cock? Huh, slut princess? Is that what you’ve been dreaming of?”

She bit down on the ball gag just for some traction against his words. She sucked in a gulp of breath at the image of him sucking cock - real cock, and it fried her brain to near breaking.

He kissed her fingertips before moving it down to her ankle. The snap of the cuffs made her jump.

“Hmmm, is that because you’re excited, that little jump? Figures, a bitch like you, Violet.” He traced her bent leg with a finger as he moved around to the foot of the bed. “Goddamn. You look so beautiful like this. Look at that pussy. It’s practically whimpering for me to touch it. Nod if you are doing fine, Violet.”

She nodded once. She listened to him move things around, bringing the excitement level up in her blood. He felt like he was so far away from her and it started to make her panic. Soft music started to play from the corner of her room. She focused on the pretty opening notes of classical music, finding it soothing. She heard him humming along. He had ticked the sensory play box with a fat marker as heavy as he could. The checklist in her mind smiled and laughed.

“You have the nicest tits, you know that?” he remarked, his voice closer to the top of the bed. She heard something but could not identify what he was doing. “I’m not sure what I like more - watching your tits bounce or your ass.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the classical music that she knew but couldn't quite place. He sat down on the side of her tethered limbs to let her know where he was. Suddenly, something so cold it burned dropped on her nipple. She sucked in a hard breath against the suddenness of the sensation. Again, the cold dropped directly on her nipple, followed this time by the flaming heat of his mouth. He bit into the breast tissue gently before moving away. He let loose a low sigh at her startled reaction. She felt her body quiver in anticipation over the next touch, but none came. She started counting slowly in her mind with the notes of the music. The notes began to pick up in pace and suddenly, his mouth came down on the other breast, this time, his tongue was freezing cold as he pushed an ice cube around the nipple. Something hard pinched her other nipple, not fingers. The pressure was too consistent. He sucked and pulled at her until the ice cube totally melted against her skin. Nipple clamps. Her brain registered what held her - fucking nipple clamp. The soft hum again as he flicked the clamp, drawing out a moan from her. He kissed her cleavage before placing a second clamp on her free nipple.

“Fuck, Violet. I think I’m going to blow myself with the way you look right now. Nod if you are okay.”

She nodded and was rewarded with another flick on the clamp. The sound that escaped her sent shivers through her pussy. His hand slid across her chest and paused as if he could feel how her heart knocked around in pure joy. He released a soft laugh before moving away from her.

“Tsk, tsk, sweet harlot,” he teased, his voice so far away once more. “All this excitement over this, and we’re just beginning. I’m flattered.”

She felt the vacuum of his absence again. Violet could feel him near, but though her skin screamed for him, he kept himself from her. She could not help how her breath started to pulse in her chest. She needed him in some fashion to touch, to speak, to fuck something just to settle her. The sound of him laughing quietly made her want to scream.

Finally, she felt his fingertips ghosting over the toes of her right foot, up her calf, run a loop around her knee until coasting lazily up her thigh. “I want you to know, Violet, that I plan on thoroughly fucking you tonight. In more ways than one. I plan on filling that pretty pussy and that asshole every chance I get. Does this sound pleasing to you, little whore? Nod if you agree.”

She nodded as a whine passed through her lips. His fingers swirled over the ridge of her hip bone and around her belly button. “Of course you would agree. Your body is so damn receptive to me. You respond to me so beautifully.”

His touch receded again, leaving her heaving and quivering and needy. She strained against the teethers searching for him. She could just hear the softest sighs as the bed dipped under his weight at the very foot of the bed. Her brain blanked as she knew he was between her legs, but how he maintained distance made her want to weep.

The bed bounced a bit as he seemed to be getting himself into position. The softest breath against the inside of her thigh made her shiver and cry out in joy. His hot fingers met the melting flesh of her cunt in a satisfying swipe. She could hear him hum in approval. One hand came down on her right thigh, holding it firmly as the thumb brushed the skin in a hard press.

He laid a chaste kiss to her pubic bone. He began to whisper touch before pressing his mouth to her, sucking her in in a hard pull that made her suck the ball gag in between her teeth. He sucked and lapped, trailing tiny kisses through her, each pass pushing her closer to orgasm. She began to feel her core tighten and coil as moved his tongue against her.

“Oh, my dear sweet pussy,” he whispered, “I’m in charge here, not you. Time to settle down a bit.”

Violet breathed in slowly, trying to bring herself back. It was going to be edging. She could do edging. She was a master of surviving this. Putting her mind into a quieter space, she focused on the notes that were so familiar. Where had she heard this music before… It was something that …

“That’s better,” he whispered before tugging her clit into his mouth between his teeth.

One finger, followed by two, curved within. The tongue began flicking, lapping. The full mouth engulfing and sucking. The pleasure crashed in on her. She stuttered against the gag. Nocturnes… They were listening to Nocturnes, but not Chopin. She focused on the slow rise and fall, like it was someone breathing beside her. She allowed the breath to carry her pleasure away like a tide, before crashing back in as he pressed a fingertip against her backdoor.

“Oooo,” he cooed, “I nearly got you there, little one. Is the slut trying to control you for me? She’s so brash, isn’t she? Nod if you’re okay, Violet.”

The sound of her name coming from Jake made her nearly slip her focus. He knew. He was going to push. She could push back. She nodded as she relegated her breath. He returned to his work and she began to think about composers. The man’s name was just beyond her thought process. Jake dropped a stream of lube against her, never stopping in his ministrations. The liquid was warmed, sending her into a spiral of bliss. She breathed hard against the ball. He kept two fingers in her while one pushed its way into her ass, gently probing, sinfully winding her core into a frenzy. He settled back into her clit sending her thoughts into a void that she could not collect for a long moment. Just as her body was about to launch itself forward and grasp that orgasm, Jake withdrew once more, a sultry laugh coming from him as he kissed the inside of her thigh.

“Oh, such focus, Violet,” he said, lifting himself up and shifting on the bed. “Are you liking the little game, my beautiful bitch?”

She nodded, teeth barred on the ball. The sound that was escaping her was desperate, though she was not ready to give in just yet. She tugged at the tether on her wrist in an effort to settle herself.

He clicked his tongue as he lay his head against her thigh. “I can be patient. I can also be precipitous. Just play along like a good little slut and we’ll be fine.”

Hmmm. The thought she just stumbled across made her want to giggle. The melody had just turned moody, right at the same time of his little shift. He was timing his scene to this music. Brilliant was beyond a word to describe her discovery of him and his mindset. The tone grew darker and his approach to her had darkened, his movements were harder. When the movement grew softer, his touch matched, as did his words. Her heart swelled with the revelation.

The knowledge allowed her to anticipate and bend to him the way he needed her to. At the next pause, she was calm, she was ready for whatever his next move would be.

“I think you’ll want to be ready for an ass fuck,” he said, his tone dark.

Her breath cut in her chest as she felt him press into her ass. His mouth remained on her clit, sucking as the dildo began to pump ruthlessly. He backed off his tongue only momentarily, as if looking at his handiwork. Violet could not stop the heaviness of her breath, sounding like she was running a marathon, not just being fucked for her dear life. He worked the dildo, shoved two fingers in and nibbled at her pussy relentlessly. Stars started to shoot through the darkness behind her eyes. She weezed for air against the gag as her body shoved her into a state that she was not sure she would return from. She was mewling behind the gag loudly just as he stopped once more with a sharp final note that matched the music.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his tone controlled. “Violet, this next time, I am going to let you cum, baby. You are doing so good for me.”

Her soul felt like it was lit on fire. Baby. He fucking called her baby. He praised her for her control. He waited until her breath was back to normal before starting once more.

“Let’s make that cunt scream for me,” he said before starting once more.

Jake started with a rhythm that was more forthwith with purpose. He sucked and nibbled and lashed with his tongue and mouth while he curled his fingers within her pussy, and pumped the dildo in her ass like he was a trained magician. She focused on the movement of each and the focus that he must be exuding to try to maintain it all. She pictured his face, the tiny creases between his brows as he sought to bring her to orgasm. He began to hum against her in time with music that had turned brighter in nature. She felt herself vibrating with energy. She felt like she was being wrung from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet as he searched for her pleasure. Her core began to flutter as he sped his movements forward. He began to coordinate his fingers and the dildo entering and sliding together just as he sucked hard. Flashing, like a lightning storm, steamed through her vision. She gurgled and hissed against the gag as her body broke loose, the orgasm racking her entire body, spraying him and erupting like a cataclysmic event. Her whole body flailed against him as he continued on her, drinking and sucking her down like she was wine. Slowly, he withdrew without a word. She gasped and gurgled and struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide against the blindfold. Her hands were outstretched and her toes curled.

Minutes passed, and it was still just the sound of her breath and the gentle turn of the melody. Her body finally calmed and relaxed. The quiet began to stretch and her skin started to feel abandoned. Her brain began to wander and fret - had he left her in that position? Had he thought that her reaction to him was wrong in some way? She began to strain against the tethers on her right side, while her left limbs were starting to feel numb and tingly. Her breath started to pick up into shallow gulps as she tried to calm, but what if that man just …

“Nod if you are okay, Violet,” he said softly, his voice far away once more.

Relief poured through her. She nodded as she felt herself let go once more of the thoughts that were threatening to confine her to a past she did not want to recognize was real. Jake was real. He was the only one real in that moment and she rooted the thought in her mind. He was treasuring her body, nurturing her, feeding that whimper that echoed in the back of her mind and deep corner of her soul that just needed to be relished.

She felt him near the head of the bed, close to her face before he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. Another landed on her cheek. The bed dipped against his weight as he breathed against the sensitive skin of her neck. He began to just taste and kiss and press and caress her everywhere, setting her skin on fire with him. He flicked first one, then the other clamp, making her hiss in a delicious manner. He pressed his tongue to the rich flesh of her breast while palming the other.

“You have no idea what you are doing to me, Violet,” he whispered before licking up her cleavage and landing a kiss on the hollow of her neck. “You fucking stunned me. The way you cum for me is so damn amazing that I had to sit my ass down and watch.”

He lay his forehead down onto her soft belly, brushing his fingertips across her skin until he drifted down to her right hip. He placed a wet kiss on the bent thigh before he moved again, this time, the foot of the bed dipped as he moved towards her. He massaged her stretched leg tenderly, taking his time to work his way up to her core.

“I know your body is getting tired,” he whispered, dragging his finger through her folds. “Just a little longer, baby, I promise.”

Her eyes rolled back at the name once more. It was too soft, too tender. The way Jake said it with reverence made her heart ache. Her emotions were flooding her mind with sunshine and rainbows when they were not needed. This was only part of his scene - not real. She scolded herself to stop that train of thought. If she had a free hand, she would cut that right off at the balls that moment.

“I want you to know that I have your lovely blue vibrator in my hand,” he said, rubbing it against her bent leg. “I want to fuck you into oblivion with it. I want you remember me sucking on it, but me fucking you with it, too. Can you do that for me? Nod if you agree.”

Her jaw was slack with the idea of where he was leading her. She nodded once and she could hear him smile.

“Good.” He passed his fingers through her folds again, this time, pinching down on her clit. “Damn, Violet. Already ready? Such a fine, fine whore for me.”

The hum that he released as he rubbed the vibrator against her matched the turn of the music - dark and heavy. She could feel him coil against her, his body feeding from the tone. His hands slithered up her sides roughly, causing her to suck in a breath in preparation for what was to come. His fingertip touched the clamp on her left nipple, twisting it. The whine that escaped her was a mix of shrill and guttural. He repeated the movement as he shoved the vibrator into her center. She gasped at the feel.

“Oh, my dear sweet bitch, did you think this was going to be easy?” he asked sharply. He moved blue from side to side without pulling it from her. Her back bowed against it. “Hmm, she liked that, didn’t she? Let’s see what we can add.”

The warm lube drizzled over her once more. Her tongue pressed against the ball gag before she sucked it in to bite down. One hand was pumping the dildo, the other was slathering her back entrance and more than likely himself. Gently, he lifted her right thigh so as not to move the side that was cuffed, but to gain a better angle.

He gripped her ass cheek as he moved closer. The tip of his dick brushed against her in deliberate fashion. She relaxed the best she could, knowing what was to come. The way he hit the hilt of the toy cock against her sent stars shooting through her vision, but then… Then… The fullness. The press. The hard gasp as he entered her and slid to his own hilt. He stopped for a long moment, allowing her to adjust to the sensation.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he whispered against her. “So. Damn. Good.”

He started moving, slow at first, grinding the vibrator against her with each strike. She could not help the whimpers and gasps and moans that erupted from her throat without volition. Every sense, every nerve was being tickled and tried as he began to slam against her body. The music was moving through a fast, brutal pace that he matched until it slowed and grew languid once more, only to pick up again and gasp again.

“Violet, nod if you’re still with me,” he said, his tone getting frantic.

She nodded the best she could under him. He began to grip her harder as he began to shift once more, each strike punctuated with a grind or a lift. She felt her entire body becoming unraveled under his care. She could not stop it even if she wanted to.

The piano notes rose sharply, carelessly. He followed it like he would follow a steep path at a high rate of speed. Her body froze at the feel of one clamp being released from her breast. He let out a sharp growl as she started to cum around him. He pounded her with every ounce of strength he had. The second clamp was released and she could not help the release of breath from her lungs and whine from her throat. His hand came down on her chest, holding her still as he rode out his orgasm in a barrage of sound that matched the heat of the melody. He continued to move until he couldn’t move any more.

Violet listened to him struggle to regain his breath, just as she was doing with her own. Gently, he slipped from her before removing the vibrator. She felt his hand press into the mattress at her left side, before a sudden click and release of her ankle and wrist. The feeling rushed back to these limbs as he carefully straightened out her leg for her. The blindfold was pulled away, followed by the ball gag. Before she could get her eyes to focus, his mouth crashed into hers in a passion filled kiss. His hand cupped her cheek tenderly, the pad of his thumb brushing away tears.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, looking into his face.

He was beyond glowing. His eyes were exhausted, but his smile was tremendously satisfied. He worked to release her wrist and ankle from the tethers, setting each one down with care. He rubbed her sore joints and muscles of her arms and legs, every few moments, he would rise up and kiss her once more until she started to laugh.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, standing up and moving towards the bathroom. “I don’t know how you function without a tub.”

“Baths are pussies,” she quipped. “Oh… wait.”

The mock cross look on his face as he looked out made her laugh even more. He started the water then moved back out to her.

“If I ever get a chance to remodel, which I plan to, that is on my list.” She grimaced as she stood up and he wrapped his arm around her waist to help. “Faure.”

He smiled at her. “Just figuring it out?”

“I couldn’t remember his damn name. That was a beautiful touch, by the way,” she said as she limped along.

“Thank you,” he whispered as they finally made it into the bathroom. “Fuck, did I break you?”

“No, I’m good. Just feeling ‘old’ lady and all,” she said as he moved to open the shower door.

“Are you going to be okay here for a few minutes? I’ll go clean up the room,” he asked as she stepped under the hot water.

Violet’s eyes rolled closed as the water soothed her aching limbs and washed away the evening. She moved slowly, allowing the heat to absorb into her skin, relieving the muscles. Flashes of what had just happened moved through her mind as she began to process what Jake had done. But her brain kept stopping on a singular moment - he called her ‘baby’. Not once. Not twice. Three times the name had slipped from his lush mouth.

She stood still under the spray. Her brain and spirit might have been doing backflips over their evening, but her damn body was feeling a little betrayed. Feeling his hands on her hips, she startled a bit.

“Hey,” he whispered as he stepped in behind her, pulling her close. He leaned past her, squeezing a bit of her body wash into his palm before setting in and massaging her wrists, her hips and finally her ankles. “Shit, I didn’t realize that you marked so easily, Vi.”

She shrugged as he continued to work out the soreness in her muscles. “I’m a faster healer. I promise.”

“Damn, look at you,” he said, catching her eye. “You’re shining.”

He rose up and pressed their bodies together before kissing her deeply. She wrapped her arms at his waist, just taking all of him in and enjoying his closeness. He washed her hair and she washed his. They laughed as they fought to get the suds out of their faces before it hit their eyes. He let her wash him from head to toe while he continued to rub and soothe her sore limbs.

He helped to dry and get into her comfy sleep shorts and t-shirt after he quickly dried and yanked on a pair of shorts he had left behind. “I’m starving,” he said as he set down her brush. “How about I go heat up our supper?”

“That sounds good,” she said, as she started to pull the brush through her hair.

By the time she was dried and sleepy, she found that he had set their places at the kitchen island and had some blues playing in the background. He met her as she hit the bottom stair and pulled her into a warm embrace, looking her over to ensure that she was okay. She smiled at him, feeling shy as he brushed her hair over shoulder.

“Tired?” he asked as he kissed her forehead.

She hummed against him. “More hungry I think.”

They sat side by side, whispering as they spoke, touching every chance they could as they ate the meal that Jake had started for them. She told him to just leave the dishes in the sink and come to bed. By the time they lay together, wrapped around each other, their bodies were done. Jake pressed tiny kisses against her eyelids until she was asleep in a cocoon of safety and warmth.

***

Jake POV

For whatever reason, he had stirred in his slumber. Beneath his hand, he could feel her fingers twitching. She let out a soft whine as she breathed out. Opening his eyes, he found he lay nose to nose with her. Her face was stressed. It was not beyond him that Violet was having a nightmare.

Jake tried to close his eyes once more. Tried to ignore her struggle. A strangled ‘no’ escaped her, her fingers becoming rigid beneath his palm. His heart began to hurt as he looked at her. Slowly, he lifted his hand and as carefully as he could, he placed it to her cheek, applying the lightest pressure. Her breathing leveled out. The furrow between her brows smoothed.

“Damn,” he whispered out loud, feeling his heart freeze at the sight of her.

Sliding from the bed, he grabbed his shorts from the floor and rummaged around in search of his t-shirt, finding it under her panties. Jake slowed himself down, though for whatever reason he felt he would meltdown if he did not escape that room right then and there. Instead, he picked up her clothes, folding and setting them on the chair by the bathroom. He walked down the stairs, phone in one hand, cigarettes in the other. He stepped out onto the deck and lit a smoke as fast as he could before looking at his phone. He grimaced at the early hour - knowing full well that there would be no one at the house that would be awake to come and get him for a hasty get-a-way.

Sitting down with a huff, he raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said, allowing himself to melt into the chair.

The feel of Violet’s skin still danced on his hand. The sound of her ease filled his brain. Though it was not the first time that he had awoken to her being in such a state, it was the first time he was able to extend comfort. He felt a shame spread across his mind. He had either overestimated his own ability to stay shallow and not allow himself to become too attached, or he had underestimated her and what she possessed that made her Violet. Had he been with any other woman, it would not have been so difficult to step back, shield himself, or convince himself he did not care. He internally berated himself.

He had fucking called her ‘baby’. A slip, for sure. However, he meant it. His heart meant the endearment and he could not stop it in the heat of the moment. Just like he could not stop himself from practically swallowing her when he had gotten the gag off of her. He had not the time to justify what was happening. He had no true need for the lightness that had assumed residence within him, placed by her, but was being nurtured by himself.

He crushed his smoke only to light another. Jake caught sight of a doe and fawn at the edge of the woods. Breathing in the silence, his brain only bent towards the woman that had accepted him for what he was and acknowledged that she was a kin to him. When she put to voice a boundary that he would have set silently for himself, it had unsettled him, without realizing the why.

Violet was an equal. Not that he had not come across others that were the same, but she was of like mindset. She did not want commitment. She did not need a partner. She sure as fuck was not looking for a goddamn soulmate. So why the hell was he sprouting fucking heart eyes and rainbows everytime she so much as turned her attention on him?

Okay. So perhaps he cared for her a little more than he normally would any other. Violet had actual intelligence and independence. His typical fare were fairly easy to dazzle, fuck and leave. She was not like that. She could hold a conversation, polite or otherwise, no matter the topic, finding interest for herself along the way. She had empathy for those around her, though it would seem that she was not shown the same favor at some point in her recent history. Though she could call people out on their own bull shit, she could certainly find level ground to which she could part without animosity.

Her ability to keep up with his brothers was something that made him smile. Even Josh was fully open with her, a rare feat. He could talk with her in a seemingly endless jumble of ideas and she would somehow decipher his ideas enough to actually ask questions. Danny labeled her a ‘Josh Whisperer’ one night the prior week to everyone’s agreement.

Violet had spun an interesting, complex web around him that he had to admit, held him enthralled. She may fuck him like a possessed angel, but she allowed him freedom that others would scoff for sharing his needs. She fucking read him like no other could. She had a confidence that allowed her to receive him and keep up with him like no other had been able to before. He was smart enough not to equate sex to anything, but the way she glowed and sparkled during their most intimate moments kept him wanting more. Dancing the other night while she tossed his shirt in the dryer, or the way she just handed his shirt back to him that morning had become important. The way she flirted, touched him, laughed with him. He was the one being fucking dazzled. His brain froze on the notion.

A different kind of shame touched him. Violet did not need a child running away from her at the first sign of not being able to deal with his own shit. She was worth strolling across that fine line beyond where he was comfortable. Standing, he snuck back into the house, washing the smoke off his hands before grabbing a glass of water. His eyes caught the bookcase before he started up the stairs. Grabbing the first one that caught his eye, he made his way to the bedroom, hoping that she was still sleeping.

He thanked the curtain gods that she had pulled the blackouts last night. The sound of her soft breathing relieved him. He slid back into the bed, turning on the soft light on the nightstand before relaxing into the space. He smiled as she snuggled up against his side, but stayed in a deep sleep. Yeah. She was worth whatever hurt lay at the end of their path.

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snowbellewells · 2 years

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CSSNS Fic: “Believing Impossible Things” {Part One}

Whew! I’m here (sorry for pushing this so close to the wire on my posting date!) Anyway, this is Part One of an intended three part fic, my entry for this year’s @cssns event. I apologize if there are any typos or other such errors as I was working on this right up to the last minute. I also have to thank my lovely artist @o-wild-west-wind for the gorgeous fic cover art she has created for this piece. It’s so lovely, but in an effort not to give too much away, we’re just posting a teaser section of the art with this first chapter, and the full work with Part Two soon.

My beta @romanceapologist was kind enough to give me early feedback, which I very much appreciated, and @zaharadessert and my friend Jessica (who isn’t on Tumblr, but is a lovely sounding board for me as a writer all the same) helped me come up with a title. I also have to thank @pirate-owl for the prompt and picset she created some years ago now, which first sparked the idea for this story. She gave me her generous blessing to go ahead and try to make it my own and write a full story for it, and I’m truly grateful.

Summary: Miss Emma Nolan needed the governess job badly enough to ignore the gossip about the old mansion and the chilly reception she got about the lady of the manor. And when she met young Alice Jones, she knew she had made the right choice. But some rumors are rumors for a reason, and maybe the little girl who drew her there isn’t the only person on the estate in need...

“Believing Impossible Things”

by: @snowbellewells

part one ~ the house at the top of the hill

Even as she reached the crest of the gentle rise she had been climbing, the petite blonde nearing the old rambling mansion in the early morning light was scanning from the tall spires and gables of the imposing gray house before her at the top of the hill. More than a bit awestruck as her eyes trailed down to the solid front door and gingerbread railing of the wraparound porch, she was both intimidated and impressed. Smoothing her skirts and tugging down the sleeves of her slightly too-small and a season out of fashion dress and jacket, also the best and most professional-looking she owned, the young woman blew out a breath, vowing once more to make a calm, competent impression. She might be more than desperate for a job, she reminded herself, but she could not let her need and fear show through.

Miss Emma Nolan squared her deceptively slight shoulders, gathering reserves of inner strength which most would not recognize upon first glance, and then stepped onto the wide, stately veranda of the rambling home where she was set to interview for the position of governess. Granted, she probably shouldn’t have told the assistant manager at her previous place of employ to ‘sod off’ before assuring this worked out, but she wasn’t making nearly enough to deal with a frightfully overbearing manager attempting to put his fingers on her whenever others weren’t looking. If he had a bit of a sore jaw to remind him to pay a little more respect to his next underling, Emma couldn’t say she was sorry.

Those who didn’t know her - and they would be many; she had grown up an orphan, was guarded and largely kept to herself in early-learned self-sufficience - would see a slim, neat but modestly dressed young woman, quite attractive with blonde hair and sparkling green eyes in a fetchingly lovely face. In short, she might not appear formidable, until one learned she was tougher than her appearance would suggest. She was slow to trust until another person proved worthy, but those few who genuinely knew her could understand the stubborn determination in her small frame, the spine of steel which held Ms. Emma Nolan upright against the cold, cruel would and the bravery that bolstered her soul. And those people knew not to underestimate her.

Yet, determined or not, she would need a bit of luck and a fair chance on her side to come out of this situation as she needed. What she had reluctantly come to accept was that she was a single young woman, basically alone in the world when it came to supporting herself and making her way. She needed another job, one she could count on to be reliable and stable - and she needed it soon. This monstrosity of a house might look daunting, and she had heard all the local whispers of gossip which were more daunting still, but she set her jaw, tilted her chin up and reminded herself it must be this one. She might not need much for herself alone, but she did have to eat.

Nearing the heavy front door, Emma hopefully admired the lovely scrolling accents to the beams and railings, painted a clean, bright white against the duller gray of the outer walls. Forcing herself to move slowly and with a calm she didn’t feel, Emma raised a mostly steady hand to knock upon the heavy front door.

She was startled however, into jerking her hand back quickly to clasp before her when the door abruptly opened without warning. Making her rather more uneasy still, it at first seemed to Emma that no one stood on the other side, as if the sturdy portal had opened of its own independent power, or by some supernatural magic. Yet, given a few more moments, a light, airy giggle sounded, causing Emma to look down and see a head of riotously curling light nutmeg-brown hair belonging to a little girl, peering up at her curiously, a perusing look to her tilted head and squinting eyes, and mischievous grin curling her rosebud mouth. “Hullo there,” she chirped. “Who are you?”

Almost without thought, Emma found her own head tilting in intrigued study as well, mirroring the playful sprite still gazing at her from the doorway, childishly chubby hand still clutching the elegant doorknob, with fingertips that appeared slightly sticky with lingering jam or marmalade. This must be her potential charge - and the very first one upon whom she ought to make a good impression.

“Hello indeed,” Emma greeted, offering a hand to shake cautiously. “My name is Emma Nolan. And you are?”

Twinkling wide eyes crinkled with guileless welcome as the little girl’s grin broadened to beam at her fully. “I’m Alice Lianna Jones, Miss Emma. How lovely to meet you! Though it is rather curious… I didn’t know anyone was coming to see us today.”

Stunned by her well-spoken forthrightness, Emma was speechless for a moment. Though this was almost certainly the child she was interviewing to govern, she hesitated to say so and speak out of turn, not wanting to ruin her chances before she had even begun. The world was still running (though not as well as Emma privately figured it might) on the idea that women were better served to speak as little as possible and at least appear to think or see even less - traits that she found particularly chafing more often than she’d like to admit. Despite those concerns, the little girl staring up at her intently as though trying to decipher her motives from the features of her face, seemed so jovial and friendly, Emma hardly wanted to upset or distance her. Perhaps she did not yet know she was gaining a governess? Or that the one she might already have was being replaced?

Shaking away the scattered thoughts ricocheting within her, Emma hoped that her smile appeared unconcerned as she offered her hand for the bright-eyed child to shake just as she would have if the girl were mistress of the house. “In that case, I must apologize for my unannounced arrival,” she offered politely, her green gaze returning the mischievous twinkle of the youngster’s own mirth, “though I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Alice giggled in delight, her cornflower blue eyes crinkling up at the corners and the sweet sound warming Emma’s heart in a sort of instant camaraderie that she had found all too rarely in her life thus far. Her left hand still gripping the doorknob for balance, the child dipped into an only slightly off-kilter curtsy, her merriment still obvious as she shook Emma’s hand in return. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Milady,” she returned in what Emma assumed she found an approximate imitation of a stuffy upper class woman greeting visitors to her home. Feeling utterly charmed, Emma merely nodded in response and concentrated on pressing her lips together tightly so as not to laugh at the rather incongruous effect.

Mere moments later, the lighthearted mood was shattered abruptly by the strident shout of Alice’s name from inside the huge house, followed by the quick clip of high heeled shoes on marble growing louder as they drew ever closer. Alice’s little hand jerked out of Emma’s grip and the curly head dipped to stare at her shoes as she withdrew slightly before the unseen speaker scolded. “What do you think you are doing, answering the door to a stranger?”

Emma’s startled and more than a bit concerned gaze shifted hurriedly from the child she had been pleasantly engaged in talking with to see that a tall, stone faced woman had now appeared at the young girl’s side, seeming to fill the whole of the doorway with an unsettling presence that could not be ignored. She had not missed the way Alice had immediately withdrawn; seeming to shrink in on herself protectively, that sparkle which had shown from her cherubic face instantaneously dimmed. Given the opportunity, she would want to get to the bottom of that; she felt a deep concern for Alice already, regardless of having known her for only moments. There was enough in her own past to turn Emma’s stomach at the possibilities for why such a vivacious child would recoil so suddenly from one meant to be a caretaker, none of them pleasant to dwell on. That also served to galvanize her resolve in the face of the nerves she had been battling. Not only did she fervently need this job; it would seem this child needed her here as well.

Holding her tongue - just barely - the strong-willed side of Emma’s nature inwardly cheered to see that though her new little friend had gone wary and still, she hadn’t fled and was still watching hopefully from behind the door. Realizing that now was the moment to employ every scrap of the poise and charm she often struggled to muster, knowing too much hard reality and harsh fact to trifle with fancy sensibilities, Emma redirected her attention to the ramrod straight and unsmiling matron before her, frighteningly pale with wildly storming eyes burning from her wan face and hair vividly, shockingly, red in contrast to the rest of her.

Ignoring her disconcertion, Emma held out her hand, feigning polite obliviousness in what she hoped seemed proper respect and propriety. “Pardon me, Ma’am. It would seem to me that you are the person I had hoped to see. I’ve come in response to your advertisement.” Again she hesitated to be specific in front of young Alice, not sure what she knew, but with every tense minute that passed, she wanted to reach out to the children more and more. Any sane, average person might have decided this was highly tense and uncomfortable silence was not to be borne and turned to flee, but Emma’s innate stubbornness rooted her to the spot in waiting. The immediate warmth and affinity she’d felt for young Alice Jones becoming a sixth sense which allowed her no other recourse.

Just when it seemed she might not get any further than the front stoop, nor any answer at all, the other woman did look down her nose at Emma for another moment before clearing her throat, flicking her wrist impatiently as if to gesture her forward, then stepping back just barely to allow emma passage. “Very well. Come in we shall get down to business.”

Emma’s brows rose in startled surprise, not expecting the abrupt change in bearing from the stern scrutiny which had preceded it. Deciding not to question the development that suited her or hesitate before the winds changed, Emma nodded smartly and slipped into the stately home before the door was slammed in her face. The fact that a shiver ran down her spine as she stood in the hall, awaiting further direction, was something she forced her mind to chalk up to a perverse flight of fancy. Nevermind too that the high-ceilinged space seemed more dark and shadowed than one would normally expect on a bright, clear morning, or that the temperature seemed too cool and chill for the temperate balminess she had just experienced outdoors. Such nonsense was surely her own nerves spinning out of control.

The woman who was no doubt Mistress of the house closed the door behind them, the sound of the latch locking back into place making Emma’s heart lurch in her chest in a way she couldn’t well explain. “This way, if you please,” the formidable matron intoned coolly. She stood what seemed easily half a head taller than Emma, and her voice was short, sharp, and not to be argued with. “I have been conducting interviews in the study.”

Emma surreptitiously attempted to gather her skirts slightly as she moved to follow in the dim and unfamiliar space. The last thing she needed was to trip on her own hemline and go sprawling to the floor, disgracing herself and showing just how far she was from being trained to carry herself around fancy ballrooms and stately mansions. Though governesses themselves were of course employees like maids or cooks, they were part of rearing and training proper young men and women in the ways of society they would someday navigate. They should therefore carry themselves with the decorum they would be expected to convey to their charges. Emma had grown up much to rough and tumble for such frivolities, gathering most of what she knew of manners and bearing from her friends who worked in fine homes and had tried to help her prepare as best she could between jobs on the assembly lines and in the linen works. Though this odd prospective employer had allowed her entrance, Emma got the distinct impression she was seeking out a flaw to send her packing once more.

She offered a sidelong wink and smile to Alice who still followed them closely, like a silent shadow. Upon reaching a room wherein Emma could see a crackling fireplace, largely mahogany desk with two handsomely appointed chairs before it, her hostess turned abruptly to calmly order, “Alice, go to your room, please. Our business does not concern you at present, and no one likes a little snoop who lingers in doorways.”

An argument rose up Emma’s throat, wanting to scold the woman for being so cold and dismissive. If nothing else, she wished she could at least caught the little girl’s hand as she darted quickly from the room, the hurt devastatingly clear on her elfin face as she vanished without a word. Fighting her natural instincts, Emma did neither, knowing that if she wished a chance to truly help the girl, to console her for more than just a moment, she had to be hired by this imperious woman. There was no doubt now she was seeing herself and her own past pain played out in the youngster now; it was no longer simply about needing employment. But Alice was not the one doing the hiring, so Emma wordlessly dug her fingernails into her palms to remain silent and bided her time.

“Right. Now then,” the flame-haired lady of the house spoke crisply as she snapped the door closed, assuring they would remain alone and uninterrupted, and turned to search Emma’s expression. “You’ve come to apply as governess, have you? And what makes you think you should be considered?”

There was a smug, doubting look on her interviewer’s face that made Emma’s blood boil. Already well on her way to disliking the woman for her hurtful treatment of the child in her care, Emma was further incensed by the same snobbish, condescending attitude she encountered from so many in polite society whenever she sought more fulfilling employment. As if finer clothes and more cultured speech determined either the work ethic or character of a person. If anything, people like the haughty ghoul before her only made emma more certain that breeding and money often made people worse rather than better.

“That is correct, Ms. - ah - Mrs. Jones?” she tried, realizing as she floundered briefly that the other woman had not actually introduced herself or provided her preferred title. As Emma paused, swallowing and trying to still her rising temper, the lighted lamps and candles in the room flickered fitfully, as if some unseen butler tried to extinguish them all at once. Pressing on, Emma tried to ignore the oddity, and added, “I have quite a bit of experience looking after children of various ages, as well as affidavits of my characters from others who know me well.”

Emma handed her recommendations across the desk to the woman, even as she sniffed and snatched at them as if she barely wanted to touch or look at the offending items. “Very well, let’s check them over, shall we?” she snipped.

Not know quite how she had gotten herself into the other woman’s bade grace so quickly, Emma held herself in check rather remarkably she thought, under the circumstances. At this point, it was only the memory of those sweet, hopeful little eyes looking up at her in greeting that kept her from taking her leave.

“And it isn’t Mrs. Jones, either,” the frosty voice corrected with a level of disgust that suggested Emma had called her some unforgivable epithet. “Alice is a Jones, yes, but though I have found myself guardian to the little waif, I am not her mother.”

“Oh,” Emma tried, very little else seeming possible to say, and her mind wanting to shout that she should be lucky enough to have a lovely child like that to call her own. “I didn't realize,” she finally settled on.

“Clearly,” the other sniffed again, chin held high. “My name is Eloise Gardiner. My family were some of the founders of this community; this home part of our legacy for generations. When the child’s shiftless father deserted her on my doorstep and disappeared, well I couldn’t very well leave her on the street, could I?”

Polite veneer completely forgotten, Emma’s mouth fairly hung open at the baldly hurtful way this Ms. Gardiner explained coming to have Alice in her home. Though Emma did not remember a storm or even strong wind outside the manor before she had entered, at Eloise’s harsh words, a howl of wind whipped up outside, rattling the window panes as if in response to the callous statements the woman made. Even without the unsettling sound effects, something rang false in the explanation, at least to Emma’s ears, and she had always trusted herself as a rather astute judge of such things - her life and livelihood often depended upon it.

“Why would her father leave her here?” Emma finally asked, knowing it might not be proper, but at last unable to help herself. Ms. Gardiner seemed far from a maternal or loving choice the girl’s parent had been seeking a fitting guardian. “Did you know him?”

Eloise Gardiner leaned forward with a knowing smirk, conveying the sort of acquaintance it had been with an arched brow and curl of the lip that no true demure lady of class would suggest. “In a way I did, at one time,” she answered vaguely. “He was a handsome devil, charming too, but it had been some time since I’d seen him, when I gained Alice as my ward.” A stack of books which had been sitting on a shelf nearby suddenly toppled and crashed to the floor violently, though no one had moved to jostle them. One, inexplicably, went sailing through the air, nearly hitting the mansion’s proprietress squarely.

Emma flinched backward as the tome flew past, but Eloise barely blinked, catching the volume in a firm grip and giving Emma a stiff grimace of a smile. “He never was one who could be held down. Apparently even his own child did not prove to be enough to do so.”

Heart burning in her chest, Emma felt the line within her statement even more strongly than before, but she couldn’t be sure what part or how much of the story was untrue. What she did know was that she wanted to be Alice Jones’ governess more than ever.

Dropping the offending book to the floor at her feet, Eloise Gardiner made a show of glancing at Emma’s experience and references with little interest before seemingly making up her mind in an abrupt, unconcerned sort of way. “I suppose you’ll do,” she stated, standing quickly and handing the papers back to Emma impatiently. “You do at least have some prior knowledge and some sense, unlike the last couple of applicants I’ve seen. I have important matters to attend and cannot be doing with Alice underfoot any longer. You’ll start tomorrow if you accept. Room and board is included. You stay in the tower room, the attic really, but it’s furnished and private.”

Shocked by how quickly the mater seemed to have been decided, and feeling she really had no choice but to accept - for a variety of reasons - Emma agreed to the terms almost numbly, not ready to celebrate yet that she had food and a roof over her head secured once more. Suddenly, she was almost as troubled as she was relieved, and she could not shake the sensation, even as they shook hands, signed a contract for the first six months, and Ms. Gardiner showed her back to the door with a directive to return at eight the next morning. Back out on the cobbled walk, Emma turned to look back up at the structure where she would soon be living and working, biting her lower lip and wondering if she had done the right thing.

Then, from an upstairs window, she saw Alice Jones appear, waving at her briefly with a wide smile before flitting from view once more. Holding that image in mind, Emma Nolan comforted herself that she had made the best choice after all, and left resolved to wait and see what the morrow might bring.

~~~*~~~

That evening found Emma seated in a cramped but warm and welcoming corner of the kitchen in the home of the fine family where her friend Ashleigh Hermann had just been promoted to head cook. Hoping not to add any extra bother or difficulty to Ash’s workload, Emma had pulled a tall stool into the corner by the hearth and was keeping her hands busy breaking beans that would be prepared as a side dish for the evening meal her friend was preparing. Emma was glad to help in return for a couple of the cinnamon buns Ashleigh made from scratch, and to have a little company as she mulled over the strange interview she’d had that day and sought a spot of her friend’s advice on how she should proceed when reporting for her first day of work in the morning.

Ashleigh and Emma had met in school years ago, both often arriving in patched or threadbare clothing and dealing with being shunned by the more outgoing and well-to-do students. They had bonded early and the friendship had lasted well into their young adulthood, even now that Ashleigh was married to a handsome young lamplighter named Sean and first time mother to an adorable babe named Alexandra.

Though not a true orphan as Emma was, Ash’s family had treated her as more servant than cherished offspring, and so she had grown up self-sufficient and knowledgeable in all manner of work. Since she toiled more than hard enough to support herself by the time she was a teen, Ashleigh had struck out on her own early, and had been able to advise Emma in various types of employment from her own experience as soon as Emma followed her into the work force a few years later.

Unlike Ashleigh’s selfish relations, Granny, the doting elderly woman who had been a friend and mentor of Emma’s deceased parents and taken her in to raise as her own, had been doting and attentive, giving Emma all the attention she could spare while working hard to run a quaint country inn. Granny had not possessed much in the way of money and material objects, nor had she much spare time to dally and relax but she had provided the best she could for the lonely child left in her charge and loved her like family. Emma adored Granny for it, but though she still functioned quite well, she was getting up in years, and Emma hated to see her still working so hard to support them both. It hadn’t been long after she was of age that she had set out for the city on her own, hoping to even send something back occasionally to help Granny and maybe allow the woman to finally slow down and have a moment’s rest.

Setting down the cocoa Ashleigh had offered with a knowing smile the moment she’d claimed a seat upon arrival, Emma watched her friend bustling around the kitchen, and finally sighed, coming out with the question still troubling her mind. “So, do you think I’m crazy for taking this on? I can’t imagine that woman will be at all pleasant to work for, and you know as well as I do the stories about that old mansion, but… if you could have seen this little girl… She is so bright, so curious and sweet. She must be stifling, locked in there all alone. I couldn’t turn my back on her…” She trailed off, her teeth digging into her lower lip anxiously as she awaited her oldest friend’s trusted opinion. The large bowl of beans were finished, and she rose to dump the vegetables from the container in her lap into the rapidly boiling pot on the stove, needing to move to calm her impatient nerves.

Despite the numerous other chores she had on her hands, Ashleigh came to stand at Emma’s side, offering her a wooden ladle to stir with, but also pausing her constant motion to wrap an arm around Emma’s shoulders and peer into her face. “Of course you couldn’t,” she acknowledged softly, her eyes full of gentle understanding. “With the way you grew up, without your parents, really pretty lost until I adopted you,” here she winked playfully to let Emma know she was teasing. “You saw a bit of yourself in her, which is completely understandable. You needed a job, the old crone will likely be away or otherwise occupied most of the time, and I think you and little Alice will be good for each other.”

“You really think so?” Emma debated, returning her eyes to the rolling surface of the water before her. She wasn’t even half the cook her friend was, and she hardly wanted to ruin one of the side dishes for the dinner. Still, despite her reluctance to let too much relief creep in, it did her heart good to know her friend felt just as she had about the situation. “That was my conclusion as well, but I feared I might be too close to see it clearly.”

Shaking her blonde head and nearly undoing the kerchief she held it back with for kitchen work, Ashleigh chuckled, “Would I lie to you, Emma?” Bustling off again to take the fresh baked buns from the large oven as gracefully as if it were a dance around her working quarters, she added, “And if you’re worrying about al the gossip and old wives’ tales about the place, I’m sure that’s all they are. I’ve never known you to let rumors and nonsense stop you before.”

Emma agreed aloud, but continued to leave unspoken the strange drop in temperature, the howling wind on a calm day, and the books flying as if cast through the air by an unseen, malevolent hand. Not as frightening as the lady of the house herself, but unsettling to be sure. Still, Emma did not like to be thought of as easily daunted, and when it came down to it, she would return regardless; that innocent child deserved someone who cared for her, and Emma had already become attached, whether she fully understood it or not.

She lingered a bit longer, helping Ashleigh see to the rest of the meal preparation and then catching up on her friend’s life as they cleaned up afterwards. When Ashleigh left for the evening to return to her little family, and Emma back to her boardinghouse room for one last night, she felt much more certain of her course. Maybe odd things did happen on an estate that old, and having now met Ms. Eloise Gardiner, Emma would concede she might indeed be a witch, though doubtfully the kind local legend suggested. The sillier flights of fancy she had heard over the years - that the ghosts of ancient sailors roamed the halls seeking revenge, or that once one entered the place they became trapped and couldn’t leave - were the work of overzealous imaginations and bored people starved for excitement, nothing more.

~~~*~~~

The next morning dawned pleasantly warm and bright with sunlight as Emma made her way to the estate at the top of the hill once more, reporting for her first day as Alice Jones’ governess. If she were completely honest, Emma was hardly looking forward to a second conversation with the lady of the house, but she had steeled herself as best she could, and she was able to overlook that in her anxiousness to see and talk once more to the little sprite who had charmed her from the moment she’d opened the door and looked up into Emma’s face with such trusting openness. Her focus was on making young Alice’s life better, on seeing that the child had someone on whom she could depend. Anything else was secondary, and she intended to keep that focus in mind, whatever other obstacles or distractions might present themselves.

Clutched in her hand, she carried a valise packed with her meager clothes and other belongings, and in the crook of her other arms her heavy winter coat which would not fit in the case and a snow white knitted baby blanket which she could never leave behind wherever she traveled. It was the one family heirloom she possessed. It had been made for her and given to her parents by Granny herself before Emma was even born, her named stitched in purple at the edge by the capable older woman. Emma was far from sentimental; her no-nonsense practical upbringing cementing that tendency well. She didn’t hand onto trinkets or collect many things. She had the bare minimum of a wardrobe and shoes necessary and a few pictures and pieces of jewelry, but she traveled light, and so she pressed the blanket, the one exception, to her side all the more tightly as she again reached the solid front door of the mansion where she would live and work.

Pressing her lips together tightly, Emma once more steadied herself, intending to appear capable and prepared for anything, then knocked on the sturdy portal. She waited only moments before hearing quickly, lightly scuffling footsteps within, and her heart leapt in happy relief, hoping it was Alice and not Eloise Gardiner, even as she didn’t wish for the child to be scolded again on her behalf.

The door swung open widely to reveal the youngster beaming at her brightly in greeting. “Miss Emma, you’re really here!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together with delight and giving a little hop right where she stood in the grand entryway. “I’ve been ever so anxious for you to arrive!”

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Emma felt a smile of her own spreading across her face in response to Alice’s greeting. Considering that she was no longer a stranger and arriving for the job she had been hired to perform, Emma stepped forward into the house gladly and chuckled indulgently when Alice took her hand and excitedly pulled her further into the ornate, high-ceilinged hall. Their voices and footsteps echoed massively in the large, open space, but though still dimly lit and overly ostentatious, her surroundings seemed much less oppressive and foreboding than they had during her interview the day before.

All the same, before letting her guard down, Emma couldn’t help glancing about cautiously to make certain Ms. Gardiner was not lurking anywhere, watching unobserved for her to make some sort of disastrous slip that would see her thrown back out of the place on her ear. Seeing no one else anywhere nearby, Emma released a breath and let her shoulders ease slightly, not sure where her employer was, but at least reasonably assured the woman was not about to leap from some hidden corner and fire her on the spot.

Cleverly seeming to read her new caretaker’s thoughts, Alice tugged gently on Emma’s hand, regaining her attention and giggling at her wariness. “You don’t have to worry,” she broke into Emma’s thoughts with her sweetly endearing young voice. “If you’re wondering about Ms. Eloise, she isn’t her right now. She left again early this morning.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She did?” she queried, puzzled. “Without making sure I’d arrived or giving any final instructions? Wouldn’t it have been better to wait and be certain you weren’t left alone?”

Alice tilted her head to study Emma for a moment, looking as though she were giving serious adult consideration to Emma’s questions, even if they weren’t truly directed at her or even more than musing out loud. Finally, she straightened again and wrapped Emma’s hand in both her smaller ones before clutching them to her chest. “You really did come here for me, didn’t you?” she seemed to reflect, sounding awed at the realization. “I could sense it, you know,” the girl continued, holding Emma’s gaze with her own wide eyes brimming with emotion. “That you were sincere, I mean. That you cared. I wanted so much to believe it, but I’ve been wrong before.”

Her confession felt troublingly cryptic to Emma, who was still trying to digest Alice’s words, even while being grateful the child could read her genuine hope to be friends, to help, to make her life better and keep her safe. Still… “Wait, what did you mean by that, Alice?” she pressed. “Of course I’m here for you. I mean, I need a job naturally - one has to work in order to get by - but I agreed to be your governess because I care about you. Shouldn’t that be the case?”

Alice nodded sagely at Emma’s words, those large, guileless eyes in her pale, innocent face wiser than they out to have had to be. “You’re right, Miss Emma. Naturally that would be the best way of it, but you would be shocked at how many people come here for the money alone, or hoping to gain Ms. Eloise’s favor and her standing and power to help themselves. Or even just to see if the place is haunted or cursed by a witch the rumors claim.”

As she was speaking, Alice had turned to move further into the house, pulling Emma along behind her through a gloomy formal parlor, an empty sitting room, and to what would likely classify as a sunroom squeezed in along the back wall near a flight of stairs up to the second floor. Emma followed numbly, realizing that Alice Jones was no fool, nor was she as blissfully childishly ignorant of what went on around her as Emma would have hoped. Clearly love - as all children deserved - had been all too rare in her life, just as it had been in Emma’s.

“I’m sorry that has been the case in the past,” Emma managed shakily, placing steadying hands on Alice’s shoulders as she turned to look up into Emma’s face after stopping once more. Finally they had found a space in the ancient structure where light could get through, and it came streaming through the bank of windows, illuminating Alice’s pixie features and highlighting her hair in a way that resembled a bright halo resting atop her head. “You didn’t deserve to be overlooked in such a way… and that won’t be the case this time. I can promise you that much.”

Once again, Emma had the brief impression that Alice was weighing the words she had spoken, gauging them for truth. It might not strike her so clearly if it weren’t something she also did, but nonetheless, she understood the need behind it, and forced herself to be still and submit to the inquisitive scrutiny. As quickly as the moment had begun, it ended, and Alice lunged forward, wrapping her think arms around Emma’s waist in a tight hug. “Then you’re just the one I’ve been praying for,” she exhaled in breathless exclamation against the material of Emma’s dress, holding tight for some minutes before letting go and stepping back, friendly exuberance lighting her eyes again, despite the glassy appearance of tears that hadn’t actually fallen. “Would you like to see your room?” Alice asked, passing the more fervent swell of emotion that had overtaken her and obviously now attempting to be a proper young hostess. “I can show it to you and help you put away your things.”

“That sounds perfect,” Emma replied with a matching grin.

Alice whirled quickly, now assured in her purpose and cheerfully urging her governess to follow her as she slipped from the room and back toward the stairs. Her tread was light on each as she tripped along merrily, prattling on about the tower, her own room, her favorite toys and games - anything her young mind seemed to think her newfound friend should know.

When they reached the second floor landing, Alice looked back over her shoulder at Emma coming up behind her, an impish expression on her face and an eyebrow cocked up on her forehead playfully at the slightly more labored sound of Emma’s breathing after the steep climb with baggage in hand. “Alright there, Miss Emma?” she questioned solicitously, but with a teasing smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

Narrowing her eyes in false sternness at the jibing, Emma nodded and let the girl know that she would manage, while admitting to herself that so many stairs might take some getting used to. “My room is just there,” Alice pointed to her left toward a room with the door opened just enough to show walls painted a light robin’s egg blue in contrast to the dark colors which seemed to dominate the rest of the house, and the velvety ear of a stuffed white rabbit hanging off the side of a canopy bed. “And Ms. Gardiner’s room is that way,” she gestured to the other end of the hall. “But don’t ever go in there. It’s off limits,” she advised solemnly with the voice of one who had been informed of the information in no uncertain terms. She wrinkled her nose in the next instant, her irrepressible nature taking over once again. “Not that you would wish to bother her moldy old room anyway.”

By this time, Emma had caught her breath and did laugh at the girl’s affronted expression. “Right you are,” she agreed with a wink, then a reassurance that she understood the warning, “but duly noted all the same.”

The winding steps up to the tower were much narrower as they ascended, not leading to an entire third floor this time, but a single room in what must be one of the gables Emma remembered seeing from the outside. Alice pushed the door open at the top with the air of a ringmaster unveiling the final act of his circus, turning eager eyes to see what her governess will make of her new lodgings. “Here it is,” she crowed, “the tower!”

Brushing an escaped tendril of hair back behind her ear, Emma gratefully dropped her valise to the floor and tossed her coat and blanket onto the worn quilt covering the bed just off to her right. The room is sparse: bed, dresser, closet, mirror, but thankfully clean and more than sufficient for her needs. There have been many times she has been in danger of having to do with much less. Moving over to the window in the wall facing the door, Emma looked out briefly, seeing the lawn running back down the hill alongside the path she had trod when she arrived that morning, thinking how lovely and peaceful the grounds truly were, despite the heavy chill that had seemed to surround them only yesterday.

Perhaps it was only the sullen mistress and not the old place itself at all?

“What do you think?” Alice’s voice piped up, sounding a bit more hesitant, perhaps even nervous as she awaited the verdict. “It isn’t fancy, but the tower has always seemed interesting to me. Up here, tucked away all by itself and quiet. I’ve always figured its hiding its own mysteries.”

She was rambling a bit, though it endeared her to Emma all the more as she turned back into the room and made her way back to the bed where Alice had plopped down and took a seat beside her. The poor thing seemed almost anxious that Emma might dislike her accomodations and leave. Reaching out to take the child’s hand and press it reassuringly in her own, Emma marveled again at the bits of her own psyche that she saw surfacing time and again in this sweet girl trusted to her care. Peering into Alice’s face, she whispered with conspiratorial warmth, “It doesn seem to have a story, doesn’t it?”

~~~*~~~

That night, long after Alice had been tucked into bed and Emma had retired to her own room, she ran her mind back over the day fondly. She and Alice had toured the rest of the house, made a brunch of toast, marmalade and tea, and then explored the wonderfully overgrown backyard, where Alice had shown her the climbing tree in which she sometimes to naps in the wide branches in the afternoon sun and the long untended garden where she often caught glimpses of a stray cat and her young, and even once a fox. Alice’s curious, intelligent mind shone through as she continued to share all the things she had studied and discovered ont he property while left largely to her own devices. It seemed almost miraculous that she was neither bitter nor spoiled, but pleasant and kind, eager to her treasures, as she called the simple things she had gathered in her solitude.

Vowing the the precocious young woman would no longer have to spend her days alone - not ever again if she could help it - Emma had found herself physically tired from the day’s activity, but her mind not yet ready for sleep. Noticing a slight draft in the room, Emma picked her blanket up from where she had tossed it on the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders as most would a dressing gown. Moving toward an alcove in the back corner of the room, she discovered where the cool air was streaming in; it seemed that where the two walls met was not quite snug, and as she pressed and prodded searchingly, she discovered that there was actually a hidden door in the wall that she hadn’t seen. She wondered that Alice had never done so either, and bit back a smile at how thrilled Alice would be when shown it tomorrow.

It was a bit stuck, no doubt from neglect, but putting her shoulder to the task, Emma finally forced open the wooden panel to discover that it led out onto a high widow’s walk overlooking the back of the property. Her sense of adventure momentarily overriding her good sense, Emma stepped out onto the narrow walkway into the night air, exhilaration flooding her veins. The breeze was stronger so high up, above the trees even in her secret perch, and Emma’s hair, loose and flowing for the night, whipped around her face wildly.

There was railing along the structure clearly meant as a handhold for anyone venturing out to use it as a vantage point, but it wasn’t tall - not even waist high - and she made a mental note to be careful not to get to close to the edge, and to warn Alice of it too, if she even decided it wise to show the child at all. She was just debating the wisdom of such action along with her responsibility to keep Alice safe, when the strident wind seemed to take on renewed vigor; almost a life of its own. The shingles of the roof at her back rattled as if about to be pulled free and the door out to the walk knocked against the side of the tower. Unnerved by the almost sentient reaction of its force, Emma got the distinct impression it was somehow upset with her.

An impossibly strong gust snatched suddenly at the blanket draped loosely over her shoulders, nearly ripping it away from her and carried it off. Without thinking, Emma dove forward to keep hold of the blanket, her one tie to the parents she had never gotten to know and couldn’t even remember, and lost her footing. She slammed into the guard rail rather than slipping over the edge, but it caught at mid thigh not the waist, and she nearly toppled over it headfirst.

A strong grip caught her around the waist and yanked her back from a fall that would have surely been the end of her. For a moment Emma was frozen, stunned, her blanket clutched to her chest as her startled lungs struggled to breath again after the shock. It took a few minutes for her to regain her senses and realize that she hadn’t averted disaster on her own; someone had caught her.

Turning slowly, she came face to face with a man equally wide-eyed and panting, looking just as surprised to see her standing there as she was to see him. He was a half a head taller than her, his eyes a wild, stormy blue like the sea and his disheveled dark hair fluttering across his forehead in the breeze still sweeping around them. His shirt was scandalously half-buttoned down his heaving chest under an expensive and old-fashioned looking waistcoat, allowing think dark hair to tantalizingly show in a way Emma had never seen on the high collared and cravat wearing gentleman of her previous acquaintance.

Before she could force any words out however, his voice, shaking with some intense burst of feeling broke out in clear agitation. “What were you thinking, Lass? Are you mad? You nearly threw yourself over the edge for a mass of thread and ribbon!”

Spluttering indignantly, Emma wanted to set him straight and defend herself, but she was still too overcome by the fright she’d weathered and the sudden precious of an overwhelming intense and masculine stranger pressed quite close to her in such a small space. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly without her forcing out any sort of explanation.

As he raised his hand to brusquely shove a thick forelock of hair out of his eyes, Emma gaped even more at the sight. Where his left hand would have been, the man who had just pulled her from the ledge instead had a hook in its place. She blinked mutely, even trying to rub her eyes as if the fog would lift and what she saw would turn sensible once again. Instead, it only led her to realize that something about the man’s form was not fully solid; she could still see the door back into her room, the shingles on the roof, and the stars above through him. It shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t possible…

Reaching out a tentative finger, she intended to just barely touch her rescuer, to prove to her own eyes that she must be mistaken, but instead she gasped as her hand passed right through him to the wall beyond. Her gaze snapped back up to meet his; deep, fathomless pools lined strikingly with dark kohl but someone just as fearful in that moment as she knew hers must be.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, looking almost pained, “will I never learn?” And then, before Emma could stop him, he vanished from sight.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89 @thejollyroger-writer @wefoundloveunderthelight @xsajx @cosette141 @apiratewhopines @the-darkdragonfly @darkcolinodonorgasm @justanother-unluckysoul @drowned-dreamer @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @scientificapricot

#cssns22 #cs Victorian ghost au #cs three part fic #knightrook au fic #believing impossible things #part one

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afniel · 1 year

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I am a very smart man and today I made an announcement for a FFXIV event happening later in the day that I run (vaguely, I sorta organize it, it runs itself, this is an important detail in a bit), promptly forgot it existed, and then never showed up.

Of course that's just plain ADHD and having other stuff demanding my attention. I was talking to my partner and making a kind of kickass dinner and got really into both of those things and lost track of the time. But also it's just...way less stressful of an event? I've done other events. Some of them for years. I would pay money to get those years back because all I ever got out of it was gray hairs and anxiety and since it's been long enough and I don't care anymore so I feel like being honest, a fucking ungrateful group of attendees that no matter how long and hard I dragged their stupid event by its short 'n curlies across a gravel parking lot, 99% of them would conveniently forget I existed all the time forever because I wasn't a Popular RPer and the other event runners were, so fuck me for not being a cool kid I guess, I was just there to pester with questions about where the cool kids were when they couldn't make it. The 1% that didn't do this were great folks, but damn, man, literally all I ever wanted was someone to say, "hey man, thanks for putting all this work into this," and that happened zero times. Even when I publicly announced that I was stepping down. Not a single fuckin' peep. Whew. I don't miss that.

(Yeah, that's an ancient-ass vent that I've been sitting on for years and it shows. It took me this long to learn how to not give a shit if anyone knows I didn't like the treatment I got.)

But now? I set up an event that it literally doesn't even matter if I'm there, it'll function alright. People are chill and genuinely nice to be around. I don't feel invisible. I don't have to do math about it (scorekeeping was never my strong point and that was a big part of the prior thing). I don't have anxiety attacks before, during, and after it. Nobody starts drama. It's just...nice. I don't think I realized how nice until I looked at the clock and realized it was an hour and a half into the event and I was so unstressed about it that I hadn't even shown up. And even realizing that didn't stress me out, I just said, lmao, I seem to not be feeling it today, and that was fine.

Being fine in a totally normal way shouldn't feel like such a revelation, but damn, man. I do not have the energy to go into the hundred ways that certain people and events in FFXIV RP fucked me up, and also some of those people who fucked shit up are here on Tumblr and I don't need the attention, and some others of them who had their shit fucked up don't need their business aired and I can't really get into mine without doing that, but I'm actually pretty alright at this point. It's neat. I could get used to this.

#mostly I don't get into the FFXIV shit on this blog but honestly it was just plain mental health stuff and it was. Not good. Very not good #note me carefully not naming shit here but it was just not a good experience in hindsight or even in present sight at the time and I knew i #stuck it out for far longer than was healthy because...idk why I guess a sense of obligation #and feeling like well if I don't do it then someone else will have to do it and if it's suffering for me then it must be suffering for them #the actual moral of the story is if shit sucks hit the bricks! real winners quit! just walk away!#but I'm good now. I finally got the majority of the shit worked out and I have my motivation to do RP shit back and it's really quite nice #and if I feel like not doing shit I do not kick myself for 'missing out' or whatever the hell I was afraid of. I don't even remember #it feels very silly to look back on and go 'what was I even getting from any of that situation?' ulcers perhaps #the contrast between being Not Okay in the past and being Very Okay in the present was stark today and I felt like making words about it lo

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miyu-writings · 1 year

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Fic Master post and Writing Plan for 2024

Hi.

As this is my writing blog it only makes sense for me to try to publicize my work. I'm not good at being hip and with the times, as compared to all the others (I'm more of the sit in a corner and play with the bunnies) but I decided that, hey, I'll just put this out here and we'll see how it goes. It's not like Fairy Tail is going to be as vibrant and a world full of potential and fun. And no, 100 Years Quest is not canon for me. I kind of stopped after Mashima's run. And from what I read about what they did to my guy, Gray then... whew, doesn't make me want to go ahead and read. Unless things have changed but given Mashima's writing... doubtful.

Anyway, I'm quite lazy but do like a good master post. It's just very pleasing to have things organized and with easy access.

So here we go. Hope you have a good time. (OK, still working on this so the links are dead atm)

Completed works

Oneshots

WiPs

Ideas that will become fics (because I can't help myself!)

oOoOo

Also...

At the beginning of yet another year, I have a lot of projects I want to work on. And WiPs to finish.

So here's a list that I hope to be able to complete by the end of the year!

/////

The Hobbit/Bagginshield

Accidental Marriage AU

kink meme prompts

Fairy Tail/Gratsu

Ice Cream AU 1/Wondrous Flavour + Sequel(?)

Searching

The Ice Court

Games

Mystique Voyage

Land of Dragons

Cinderella

Den of Iniquity

Baker!Gray AU

Blood-letting (although I'm wondering about it because of the ending being a bit OoC but fuck that)

Rose Red

Roommates

Moon

Like Stars Aligned

Crystal

Inter Sol et Luna

White Feathers

The Sandman/Dreamling

kink meme prompts

consort!Hob fic

This is the plan, at least.

Feel free to say something or ask about the crazy stories - love to do that.

(If you think you've seen this before, yes, I only changed the date because I didn't end up doing any of the things I had planned. Oops...)

#fic masterpost #masterlist #fairy tail #the hobbit #the sandman #writing #writing plans

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shywhitemoose · 2 years

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🥺🛒💖

Izzy 💛💛 Thank you for the ask!

Whew, ok I guess it didn’t occur to me when I posted this ask game that I would need to like, *think* about things lol. But here I go!

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

I mean I love my characters so much that I’m pretty much always in my feels when I write them, haha, but maybe one of my favorite moments might be when there is some kind of need for physical touch and/or they accidentally or absently touch but they are still just in that stage of hopelessly pining for each other. Imagining their feelings and reactions just… Oh yeah. That hits the spot 😊

🛒What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

So many eye rolls and brow furrows. I think it’s supposed to be a writing no-no but I can’t help it. It’s what they do and I love imagining it so I write it. All the time lol.

Descriptions of Obi-wan’s stupid handsome face, emphasis on eye crinkles and brow wrinkles and blue/green/gray eyes. Also his stupid hair and That One Rogue Lock. You know the one.

💖 What made you start writing?

First started writing back in like 2018 when I could, you know, actually keep up with Obikin fic, and I had all these scenes in my head and all these emotions post Rako Hardeen that I wanted to explore that I just wasn’t really finding in fic at the time, so I was like Well I Guess I’ll Write It Myself Even Though I Have No Idea What I’m Doing I Mean How Hard Could It Be? Like with drawing, apparently, I tend to bite off more than I can chew, and I don’t do warm-ups. So… here I am 25 chapters and nearly four years later and I’m still not done AND there are probably way better fics out there by now that explore the same thing I originally wanted but now I don’t have time to read them because I’m too busy trying to write and art lol. 🤦‍♀️

#ask game #sorry for the delay!

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 8 months

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11.7.23 Tuesday

1:30 am

Love Expression on/with Borgy: It is 7th today.

Sleeping now... Sleeping with HIM... Am I angry? hmm...hmm... probably...

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7:56 am

Continuation at 4am Love Expression on/with Borgy: It is 7th today.

While we sleep in OUR King-Kqueen BED, now I'm wearing your black shirt that looks like a super XL on me... I'm angry on something we argue but we still sleep side by side, it will be forever this time...

We sleep side by side but we sleep on our back on each other...YOU? YOU always wear your white classic BRIEF or your boxer but now you are on your boxer color gray...

I know, I'm really sleeping, sleeping while thinking... Sleeping and thinking at the same time??? Sleeping at his back, that I'm on a side-lying position on my right body touching OUR BED.

YOU? My BABY, sleeping on your back which is few inches away from my back, that you are as well on your side lying position which your left body touching OUR BED... ( did he take of care of his nana? Something that I saw on screen but not part of this love expression cheat sheet???). ANYWAYS....

Yeah...Yeah... We do have a SQUARE wall clock in OUR ROOM, which I can easily see from OUR BED coz it is luminous and you have a digital clock table on your side,which the table is just actually on your side oh! I forgot to put here, we both have table on the side of the bed. ( it looks crazy but you have it BABY which is weird for me. ) Where am I? ( I'm with my BABY in their main Mansion House ???). YEAH! YEAH! It is a MANSION... But I ask him to make it a CASTLE.... Am I the Kqueen???

Yeah...Yeah.... I remember that the last time, I'm hugging you while I'm standing on our BED coz you have long legs,when I'm standing on OUR BED I can easily reach your shoulder ( which is funny, right??). I'm actually hugging you at your back wrapping my arms on your shoulder and asking a favour while kissing your left and right cheek, while I'm standing on OUR BED. You hold my arms infront of your chest and telling me to wait " in a lil while lil hot mamah". I just kiss him a thousand times on his left cheek. I ask YOU to change OUR ROOM theme to have a combination of modern-contemporary -american but I love pieces of modern Filipino rattan like our hamper in OUR BATHROOM.

9:59 am

A mismatch love tall YOU and shorty me... :(

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I FEEL JEALOUS ON THINGS THAT I DON'T KNOW...

10:57 am

Back to the present-today situation:

Done, watching "wingwomen"... I still have windblow... Back to my reality crisis, thinking of money, job,how to see Borgy ( how to get him ).

But really thinking of my own money... Still, feel fat,old and wrinkled... Still,thinking of my "deep smile lines" I really wanna remove it. Whew!!! Not really happy having "deep smile lines" aging for nothing and aging without a story to tell... I wanna have "golden aging".

Still, thinking of SEX... Still, wanting to transfer in sand-dunes ilocos though there are some plastics rocks and pebbles. NO LIFE here in Cavite... Life is a choice and being with someone is really a serious choice...I'm not happy having the "Cryptic Message"... I'm no longer satisfied... Mostly Cavite are traitor and will do everything just to smash me unfairly.

Still,have windblow...

1:17 pm

Continuation at 4am Love Expression on/with Borgy: It is 7th today.

Whew! How it happen...How it start??? We argue,yeah... I don't wanna talk to you. You are just quiet, I say we should just literally sleep and I turn my back at you and I position myself on that side lying position few inches away from you. ( before we actually literally sleep ).

Same thing you do... Whew! Around 4am, 4am? Someone is caressing me on my waist line, whispering I love you while kissing my ear and you keep on whispering I love you...

I feel the tingle on my left ear...I'm somehow half awake and asleep but my mind is somehow processing, I'm thinking "what is he saying"? He loves me? He loves me?

He keeps on saying I love you,continuously giving me kisses on my left ear then saying under YOUR breath that I love you... I love you...

I'm still quiet holding my breath until I'm fully conscious of what he is saying that he loves me,he loves me... ( hope it is forever ).

He continuously caressing me on my waist line....I don't wanna move and I don't know... I'm thinking he loves me? He loves me? Not really moving then he go down touching my vagina then I suddenly laugh then he really touch and caress my vagina,then he kiss me... I start to laugh then he stop then he say I really love you. He say take me seriously but I'm still laughing... Then, I see his glassy eyes and he is still saying I love you, I love you... His face is serious, I still wanna laugh but I love him so much not to take that serious face... I just say OHKAY... OHKAY you love me... Then, what? He kiss me again no soft kisses, this time somehow rough kisses he just suddenly slide his tongue inside my mouth as if he will eat my entire face.

I kiss him back, I feel the burning desire to feel his soul again blending with mine. We starting kissing again and again, I love feeling his tongue battling with my tongue. My left hand is now at the back of his head and my right hand is touching his left side of his face while we keep on kissing again like chewing a BLUEBERRY GUM. He slightly incline side ways going to me, his right arm bend place on the bed while he is almost eating my entire face and not stopping kissing me and his left hand caressing my vagina. What a FIRE I feel this time...

2:46 pm

Continuation at 4am Love Expression on/with Borgy: It is 7th today.

Ah... Ah... I suddenly can't stop my happy cry, my soul can't control to cry... I feel the urge to let him inside me again...We can't stop kissing, our tongue gliding up and down and circular motion. He continuously caressing my vagina until he go inside my panty. I feel like shouting but I can't... I have to control my happy cry...

You're pulling down my panty, I incline for you to drag it down with your left hand and I can't stop crying... Supposed to be I'm gonna turn infront of you but you say stay still lil hot mamah and I can feel that you are just removing your own boxer without my help since you have long legs,long arms and my favorite part your long banana...

He is starting to put the tip of his penis near my butt but not really there, ( I can feel the passing of his penis on the skin of my butt but not really on the butt )it is just a quick touch going to "SPOONING POSITION" but still going to the hole of my vagina... My left hand go down to grab his penis coz I want me the one to put that inside my hole...

I feel the burn of hellish love... Then he grab my right hand with his left hand while we do this "SPOONING POSITION" .... He is starting to do the bounce sideways for a few times.My left hand and arm still at the back of his head or right shoulder which is place bend on OUR BED.

Then he say lil hot mamah will take off my shirt he is in a rush taking off his shirt,then me? I also remove the black shirt that I borrow from him but now MY BLACK SHIRT, while we are still connecting on a "SPOONING POSITION".

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4:25 pm

Continuation at 4am Love Expression on/with Borgy: It is 7th today.

Now,we're totally naked we can feel the touch of our skin inch by inch...I feel heat and it is increasing... You grab again my right hand with your left hand and you slightly lean over my body to continuously kiss me on my chest and the side of both of my breast... You starting to lick my nipples left and right gently... I'm starting to cry that I don't want you to stop doing it while you are bouncing me sideways....I'm hearing your cry as well.... You are making me nutzy...

I'm grabbing your face with my left hand leading to my lips, I'm starting to lift up a lil to find your lips and I begin to put my tongue inside your mouth then I feel your slimy tongue battling again with my tongue.

We are agaain and agaain and agaain dwelling into this moment until we reach our end.... I slightly lift my left leg on top of your long legs then your left long leg is in between my short but capable legs while your right leg is on OUR BED and closely near my butt plus your penis inside me... I can feel everything on him....His skin, his breath and his heart beat and cry...

He keeps on bouncing me sideways gently, Then I say oh! shit BABY, I'm coming, coming ah... ah.....I feel the FIRE of LOVE....Keep going BABY and I can hear his breath in and out.... Then, I suddenly explode, my lower abdomen is somehow pulsating. You say lil hot mamah wait for me to come... I say BABY yeah yeah....I can feel his left hand go down to my pelvic, he is kissing me again and I kiss him back still waiting for him to come out....My left hand is at the back of his head or right shoulder and my right hand holding his face kissing him forcefully while he is still bouncing me and bobbing gently and I can't stop crying,still waiting for him to come...

Lingering again and again and again and again... He is alternately bouncing and bobbing me sideways until he say lil hot ah ah ah mamah, I'm coming, feel me....Then, I feel his lava flowing on me then he kiss me on the lips and his head and body lean over on my stomach. He say I love you,lil hot mamah...

I love you Baby...

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4:30 pm

Oo na fuck you DJ on Eagle FM...Stay natural, I still wanna botox and I hate those INC's.... Don't you ever control me whoever DJ you are there...

Why, will that DJ suggest that we should be natural. Can someone relay fucky2x DJ of Eagle FM....

I'm finishing my sweet moment story cheat sheet on a mismatch love of tall guy and short girl. Most specially my cheat sheet with Borgy, I wanna have him!!!

Let those DJ's be natural, I'm still on Modern Contemporary! Up to date...

I still go for "golden aging"....Fixing and presenting myself like a Sphynx Cat in a lil while...

Why,those DJ's will control my "golden aging"...

9:23 pm

Back to the present-today situation 2:

I still have windblow... Yeah... Yeaah... I feel bitterish and panicky... I'm still thinking of money and job and about Borgy and cryptic...

But mainly focusing on my own money and job. I'm no longer expecting that there will be a rewave for me in Iqor but I need to get a job. I really, wanna cry... I'm self-pitying... I feel ugly for not having botox that I'm aging for nothing here. I think I have teeth coffee stain again that I need to go back to a dentist but I have no fundings now...

Grrrr.... Whew!!!

Nobody wants me now....I wanna get Borgy.... I feel bitterish...

I need to get a job and wanna leave this hometown... I'm self-pitying...

10:21 pm

Still have windblow.....Stress... Stress... :(

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aquakris · 5 years

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oh...well this is a surprise🥴

#is that why is had that lv bag in his snap from this morning?#whew.... just put it in my *** gray #grayson dolan #I need a full body pic #i know those jeans are fitting so good

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restlessfandoming · 4 years

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“family holiday” (pt. 1) (chilumi fic)

[SPOILERS FROM 1.1 STORY QUESTS]

Lumine finally arrives in Snezhnaya and takes Childe’s offer of visiting his home (mansion).

(some domestic fluff uwu)

lots of ppl have been asking for more and i love that! tysm for the encouragement and support <3 sorry this took so long to upload, i am trying very hard for all you lovelies ;__;

also this is being split into two parts bc it is a bit longer than my other fics...but i swear im writing part 2 as fast as i can!! i just wanted to post this now so i wouldn’t keep you lovelies waiting <3

[Fic Masterlist]

“family holiday” (pt 1)

“Lumineeeeee!” Teucer shouted as she walked through the door of Childe’s home. He tackled her into a hug.

“Well hello to you too, Teucer,” Lumine greeted back. Just as energetic as I remembered…

“Hey! Paimon’s here too!” Paimon crossed her arms.

Teucer broke his hug and waved energetically at Paimon. “Hi, Lumine’s toy!”

Paimon’s jaw dropped, ready to go on a rant, but Teucer already turned his attention away.

“Big brother!” he cheered, tackling Childe into a hug as well.

“Teucer!” Childe said enthusiastically, picking him up and slinging the little boy over his shoulder before swinging him around. Teucer erupted into gleeful giggles.

“Big brother? Is that you?” a soft voice called. Coming down the grand stairs was a little girl who looked exactly like Childe and Teucer, her long brown hair tied in a half-up crown braid, her large blue eyes like innocent doe eyes. She looked about eight. Behind her, another sibling came trudging down the stairs, scowling, his hair appearing more ginger than the rest of the family; his face had a splattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, more prominent than Teucer’s. He was a bit older, around 11.

Childe set Teucer down, and smiled. “Tonia,” he greeted her, gentler. He got down on one knee, and Tonia ran down the steps—her white dress flowing behind her—and jumped into his open arms.

“It’s been too long!” she said, her voice muffled by Childe’s shoulder.

He laughed. “It certainly has, princess.” He looked to the last sibling still standing by the stairs. “Come on, Anthon. Come here.”

Anthon let out an exasperate huff, but still made his way to his older brother, and joined Tonia in their embrace. “We don’t have to make such a big deal out of this,” he grumbled, though his arms tightening around his brother betrayed his attitude.

“Looks like we’ve been sidelined,” Paimon muttered.

Lumine tilted her head. “It’s kind of nice to see though…”

Anthon’s eyes flickered to her. “Who are you?”

Tonia broke from the hug, ducking under Childe’s arms to look at Lumine, while still gripping tightly to his jacket.

Teucer bounced over to the traveler, and placed his hands proudly on his hips. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Lumine!”

Tonia gasped and skipped over to her, her eyes bright. “Lumine?! Like from the letters?” Teucer nodded enthusiastically.

Childe stood and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yup, the one and only. This is her first time in Snezhnaya, so everyone be on your best behavior.” He gave Anthon a look, to which Anthon crossed his arms.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Tonia and Anthon,” Lumine said. “Your brothers have told me a lot about you two.”

Tonia smiled shyly and peered at Lumine’s face. “Woooow,” she whispered in wonderment. “You really are just as pretty as he said!”

Lumine felt a shock to her system. Childe told them I was pretty?

Childe let out a nervous laugh, quickly scooping Tonia off the ground and ruffling her hair. “Very funny, Tonia! Why don’t we decide on dinner plans, hmm?”

Paimon, after grumbling in the corner about being ignored, perked straight up. “Food?”

“Let’s celebrate brother and Lumine coming home! We should go to the bestest restaurant in the city!” Teucer suggested.

“You don’t want to eat brother’s cooking?” Tonia asked, a bit of sadness tinged in her voice.

“I think that’s a great idea, Teucer,” Childe said. He patted Tonia’s head. “How about we eat dinner at the restaurant, then we can come home and I’ll make you your favorite cake?”

“Yay!” Tonia cheered, jumping from Childe’s arms, and joining Teucer in celebration.

“Anthon? What would you like to do?” Childe asked.

He shrugged. “Whatever sounds good to me.”

“Then it’s settled! Let’s all go get ready then, okay?” Childe said. The children all ran up the stairs, and soon the foyer was quiet once more. The Harbinger let out a heavy sigh.

“Whew! They’re a handful!” Paimon said.

Lumine nodded. “How do they even survive while you’re away?”

Childe chuckled. “Year round I have a dedicated staff of servants and maids to look after them and the house.” (Mansion, Lumine thought.) “I gave them the weekend off while I’m back.”

“You can handle all three of them?” Lumine asked.

“Oh? You don’t think I’m capable?”

“I just can’t imagine you as a child raising type,” she said, recalling their various battles together. How bloodthirsty he could get.

“The battlefield is different,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. He glanced at the stairs. “I’ve been raising my siblings since we were little.”

No parents? She thought of her and Aether. On their own for as long as she could remember, having to explore and learn alone. Except she and Aether were twins; she never had to look after a younger sibling—let alone three.

“Ready!” Teucer announced, bouncing down the stairs.

Childe crossed his arms. “Just your hat? Where are your gloves? Coat? Boots?”

Teucer giggled. “Oops! I forgot!” He raced back up the stairs.

“And you?” he asked, turning to Lumine. “You don’t look ready either.”

“I was okay on the journey here,” she answered. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “It’s almost dark now. Snezhnayan nights are freezing, even more so during this time.”

“Ahh...well...we didn’t really pack...anything…,” Paimon said sheepishly.

“Paimon I expected, but you, Lumine?”

The traveler crossed her arms. “I’ve been a bit busy.”

He scoffed. “Right, right. Well, we can’t have you freezing to death in the street. I’m sure there’s extra coats around here,” he said, heading up the stairs. “Come with me.”

“Oooo, Lumine, they’re probably super expensive and fluffy! Let’s go!” Paimon said, flying after Childe. Lumine rolled her eyes and followed.

The three passed by the children’s rooms, all clothes being thrown around and excited chatter, before coming to a large door at the end of the hall. Childe’s room. He opened the door and they entered.

It was a grand room—octangular in shape with huge windows and a tall ceiling—large, spacious, and empty save for a large bed, standing wardrobe, and side tables. There was a fine film of dusting covering all the surfaces, and the bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in for a long time. The colors were sparse, only grays, whites, blacks, and the occasional red accent.

Childe opened the doors to the wardrobe, revealing an assortment of heavy winter coats. He pulled one out and held it out for Lumine. “I think this coat is a little older—probably the smallest one I have.”

She put it on, the sleeves running a bit long to her fingertips, the feathered hood obscuring her face up to her nose. Childe laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at him after pulling the hood down. Despite it being old, she could still pick up a faint scent of Childe: a smell remnant of ocean waves and sandy beaches. Unexpectedly pleasant...

“If that’s too big, she can have one of my coats!” Tonia said from the doorway.

“That is very nice of you to offer, Tonia,” Childe said. “But I think your coats might be too small.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, we’re all ready now, brother!”

The family—plus Lumine and Paimon—gathered back in the foyer with everyone bundled in their coats, hats, and gloves. And then they were on the way to the restaurant.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Lumine, look!” Teucer said, pointing at a large pond. “There are so many fishes!”

They were waiting to be seated in the restaurant lobby. A large, grandiose building, with marbled floors, vaulted ceilings, and gold furniture. There was a large pond in the middle—a miniature waterfall flowed into it.

Too extravagant, Lumine thought. And I thought Liyue was expensive...

“Do you think we could take some fish home to eat?” Paimon asked, peering into the pond.

Lumine gave her a deadpan expression. “Go ahead. I’ve always wanted to see how Snezhnayans deal out punishment.”

“On second thought, nevermind…”

Tonia pulled on Childe’s jacket. “Can we go to the toy store after this?”

“Toy store! Toy store! Toy store!” Teucer chanted.

“Yes, yes, of course,” Childe said. The two children cheered.

“They’re always so loud,” Anthon grumbled from his seat next to Lumine.

“They’re just excited your brother is back,” Lumine said. “Aren’t you excited also?”

“I guess…” He looked at her. “Why are you here anyways?”

How do I explain that I’m on a quest to find my brother after we were banished from our journeys by an unknown god? “I want to meet all the gods of Teyvat.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. That’s impossible.”

“Actually I’ve been quite successful,” she told him. “I’ve already met a few.”

“Really?” His brows were furrowed. “What’re they like?”

Venti: drunk. Zhongli: broke. “They’re...interesting. Very powerful.”

Childe walked over to them. “Is he bothering you?” he asked Lumine.

“She was just telling me she’s met some of the gods of Teyvat. Is that true?” he asked, scrutinizing.

“Very much so. She’s quite strong, so don’t get on her bad side.” He gave Anthon a wink.

“Strong enough to beat you, brother?”

“Of course,” Lumine said, standing up. “I’ve beat your brother before.”

“Paimon can confirm that! We kicked his butt!”

For the first time, Anthon’s eyes seemed to light up. “You did? How?”

Childe chuckled through gritted teeth, disguised as a strained smile. “Now, now, Anthon; you seem like you want me to be beaten.”

Anthon frowned. “No, I didn’t mean that.”

“Sir? Your table is ready,” a waiter said, approaching the family.

As Childe went to wrangle up the younger kids, Lumine stayed behind and tapped on Anthon’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Why do you want to beat your brother so bad?”

Anthon shook his head. “You guys have it wrong. I don’t want to beat my brother…” His pale face flushed a bit red. “I just...I want to be stronger than him. So he doesn’t have to work so hard to protect us…” He stopped and watched his siblings sit around the table in the distance. “He shouldn’t be the only one protecting us. I can see it’s really hard work for just him. I want to be strong enough to protect him, Tonia, and Teucer also.”

Lumine’s heart warmed at Anthon’s love for his family. She missed Aether a little more. “I’ll help you.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know what it’s like, wanting to protect a sibling.” She then gave him a teasing smile. “Plus, I’ve already beaten your brother, right?”

“Right!” He had a little smile as well. “And he’s the strongest person I know! Well...I guess that person would be you now, right?”

Tonia came marching up to the two. “Come onnnnn, let’s go eat!” She grabbed both Lumine and Anthon’s hands and dragged them to the table.

Afterwards, the family enjoyed an exquisite meal, and were all stuffed full of expensive foods and cheerful laughter. (The children were amazed at how much both Lumine and Paimon could scarf down.)

The children, very quickly after finishing their meal, practically teleported to the toy store. As the children ran through the store, Lumine and Childe took the moment of rest, silently watching over them. (Paimon had retreated back into her world to recover from the feast.)

“I don’t know how you do it,” Lumine said. “I had a hard enough time with just Teucer in Liyue.”

“It’s not easy,” Childe confessed. He looked at his siblings softly. “But when I see them smiling and happy...despite everything bad in the world? I think it’s all worth it.”

How nice… His love for his family definitely matched her love for Aether. Something we have in common. She found herself enjoying this time with Childe, and his family, more enjoyable than any time she had been adventuring. It was almost like...she was...back home…

Soon enough, everyone was lined up, toys all selected and ready for purchase. Teucer tiredly tugged on Lumine’s coat, then silently held his hands up. At first, Lumine blinked, not understanding.

“Teucer, just ask her to pick you up,” Anthon said.

“That’s okay,” she said, pulling Teucer up off the ground—now understanding—and placing him on her hip. I think this is how you carry a kid? She didn’t have much experience with kids, save for the few she had met while in Teyvat. And those kids are far from normal... She let out a little sigh of relief when Teucer relaxed, laying his head on her shoulder.

“Are you tired too, Tonia?” Childe asked. She shook her head, tightening her grip on his hand, clutching a doll in the other. Teucer was hugging a hilichurl stuffed animal, and Anthon held an action figure of a Lawachurl.

Upon reaching the toy seller, the old woman at the counter smiled at Childe and Lumine. “You two have such beautiful children,” she said.

Lumine almost dropped Teucer. What?!

“Though I have to say, they do take after their father quite a bit,” she remarked. “A shame, seeing as the mother is so beautiful.”

Before Lumine could explain, Childe spoke. “Yes, what a shame indeed—I completely agree,” he said while smiling.

...WHAT?!

[part two]

#genshin impact #genshin lumine #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #lumine #childe #tartaglia #chilumi #lumichilde #childe x lumine #lumine x childe #fanfic #me

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