#I’m sorry if that wasn’t your intention

[fadingdaggerr]

first off, omg I absolutely love your writing. You're literally my favorite author on here. Second, the pictures you choose for each one shot are *chefs kiss*

Moving on from that, I was wondering if you could do a melissa schemmenti one shot inspired by the song "casual" by chappell roan, and with a happy ending? or the song "red wine supernova"?

I've been meaning to do it myself but I so don't have the time or motivation right now😭

and now? (18+ minors, dni)

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: melissa craved you, you craved melissa. what you crave from each other seems to differ depending on the season, based on both casual and red wine supernova by chappell roan. | 6.1k

includes: angst!!, fluff, no pronouns/gender mention for r, emotionally constipated mel and r, self sabotage from r, happy ending

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption (minimal), marijuana use (minimal), verbal fighting, afab reader (no mention of breasts in ref to r), smut throughout (oral, fingering, toy use, mel and r receiving), lots of praise

translations: sfigata (italian - loser), τουαλέτα (greek - restroom - pronounced too-ah-leh-tah)

note: on this episode of “sol complains about their inability to write under 4k words and then immediately writes 6k+” N E ways. the goal of this was to sort of have mel's perspective be carried by red wine supernova and reader's perspective to be more along casual. thank you for trusting me with your prompt/idea, i'm very honored <3

The moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you.

Tipsy at a housewarming party, uninterested in everyone around her, Melissa almost calls it a night. She only agreed to be here because Shauna said ‘a small get together,’ not ‘having half of Philly in the kitchen alone.’ Weaving through the room, she attempts to find someone she knows to say goodbye to, but her search is halted by yelling from the foosball table.

In the living room, Dominic is accusing someone of cheating. At foosball. Amused, she walks further into the room to watch, seeing Dominic miss the ball too many times to not be an effect of alcohol, and he groans towards the ceiling.

He angrily spins the handles he’s holding, jostling the table, “stop fucking cheating, dude!”

“I’m not fucking cheating, dude,” the other player responds, laughing through the answer. Hiking it onto her tiptoes, Melissa peeks over shoulders to see you, a little grin on your face that also drops the joint hanging from your lips.

“Bitch, yes you are!”

Without a second to even blink, you push the rods in your hands forward, hard, making the metal ends roughly hit Dom’s hip. Leaning over the table, you blow smoke towards his face with a sarcastic smile, “don’t call me a bitch. Thought you knew better, Domi?”

“Yup,” he responds through a wince, “yup, wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

Through a chuckle, you take another hit from the near-roach, eye flicking up at the sensation of being watched intently. Red hair sticks out in the crowded room, green eyes sticking out more. Subconsciously, you do a once over of her, meeting her eyes.

Voices, music, the people around you, they all faded away. All you saw was Melissa. All Melissa saw was you.

Your whole body goes on autopilot, trying to get you to her as quickly as possible. Dominic tries to get you to play another round, an attempt to redeem himself, but you wave him off, not taking your eyes off the object of your attention as you snub out the joint against the game table. It takes borderline shoving almost everyone out of your way before you finally get to her. Any thought of leaving early flies out Melissa’s brain, disappearing as you enter her orbit.

It’s all a blur from the center of the living room, to the back of it, to the locked bathroom with you on the counter. How she got here, she doesn’t know, nor care. All she can focus on is your hand gripping her hair and the taste of you on her tongue. The blessing and curse of music beating through the wall fills her ears, thankful it covers the moans coming from you for any partygoers, but angered she can barely hear them.

Melissa can’t dwell much when your thighs begin to shake around her head, the hand not in her hair was nearly clawing the wall. From the whines that she manages to hear through thigh-shaped earmuffs and bass boosts, she can tell you’re close, the bucking into her mouth quickening with the motion of her tongue. Melissa’s alternating of figure-eights and sucking on your clit is your downfall, struggling to contain the loud groan that desperately wants to rip from your throat.

Languid motions slow, making you squirm from overstimulation before you’re pulling her back up to your lips. You almost give right back in when you feel her groan against your lips, tasting yourself on her as she dominates the kiss, all teeth and tongue. She was addictive, your new drug of choice, one you don’t want to let go of soon. 

Melissa leaves the party with your number in her phone, and your taste imprinted on her tongue.

—☽—

Melissa can’t even wait two days before she texts you, just saying it was her, chewing her thumb as she waits for a reply. Eight minutes and three seconds later, not that she’s been silently counting or anything, her phone buzzes.

hey beautiful. was wondering when i’d hear from you.

You were at her door within a couple hours, almost running over your coworker as the workday ended.

The first month of this arrangement, this is all it is. Melissa texts you a simple Are you free tonight? and you show up at her front door, grinning as she pulls you in by the collar of your shirt. She rarely takes her time with you, immediately sucking at sensitive skin and cupping your sex through your underwear, dragging her teeth down your throat. Moans and whining coming from you only spur her on. You barely make it to the couch before her fingers are working their way inside you.

It takes weeks before you can contain yourselves enough to make it to her bedroom, though your clothes are scattered from the front door to the stairs, Melissa’s black thong caught on the bannister. An altogether miracle you even make it onto her bed.

The redhead has a damn near obsession with eating you out, bold hands holding you down as you squirm, groaning into you as you grind into her face. It’s the first and last thing she does every time, before she kisses you goodbye, all soft and sweet. The two actions are so wildly different, rough and dominating followed by gentle and caring. How could one not become a fiend for the attention only she can provide?

Another month passes, and it’s almost routine. Melissa calls, you run. Melissa says jump, you ask how high. Melissa tells you to take off your shirt, it’s off before she finishes her sentence. Melissa gets you off, you leave before you’ve even caught your breath.

The expectation of you leaving drops one night when she catches the dazed, sleepy look in your eyes one night. For the first time, she lets someone spend the night. With her arm around your waist, you speak quietly into the air, “would you wanna go on a date sometime? A real one, I mean.”

Her arm retracts from your body, turning to lay on her back, “c’mon, baby. That’s not what this is, we agreed.”

Suddenly, you’re glad she’s not pressed against you anymore, breath uneven, “yeah, yeah. You’re right. Nevermind.”

You don’t bring it up again. She doesn’t try to hold you again. Your visits include dinner and wine before she dines on you and coffee before you leave in the morning, but nothing more. It tastes bitter in your mouth.

Four months in, and you find yourself splayed across her couch with the redhead buried between your thighs, fingers making sparks roll through your core. Hard knocking broke through, both of you stare at each other with wide eyes. A second round of knocking throws you into motion, scrambling to put your jeans back on, Melissa hurriedly cleaning her fingers with her mouth. Just before she opens the door, you stop her to fix her hair, immediately turning back to throw yourself on the couch.

When Melissa opens the door, all you hear is, “took you long enough.”

“Fuck d’ya expect showing up unannounced?” Melissa matches the annoyed tone of whoever’s at the door, moving aside to let them in. Blond and tall with the same Schemmenti resting-murder face. This has to be Kristen Marie, the ‘sfigata ass sister’ Melissa mentions from time to time.

“The hell are you?” The blond looks at you, no attempt to hide the judgment behind her eyes. A quick glance to Melissa, who’s glaring back, tells you to lie. You introduce yourself only as one of Melissa’s friends, the mention of knowing Shauna, however, seems to make Kristen less defensive. A sigh of relief leaves the redhead, you hadn’t been caught. A sigh of disappointment leaves your own lips.

Weeks later, Melissa’s phone rings while you’re both chopping vegetables for dinner. She mutters an apology as she pauses your conversation, showing you the contact Mama on the screen. You pretend to zip your lips with a little grin, going back to chopping the bell peppers she tasked you with.

“Hey, Ma,” Melissa says into the phone as she puts it between her ear and shoulder, freeing her hands to chop the onion. “Nah, just making dinner. I can’t stay on long, I got company,” she bumps your hip with hers, laughing at whatever her mother says before answering, “no, weirdo, not that kind of company… I’ll ask, hold on.”

Putting her phone to her chest to cover the speaker, she asks, “my mother would like to know if you’re a complete freak?”

“Contextually, yes and no,” you say, reveling in Melissa’s bursted laughter, “but tell her no.”

“No more than I am, Ma,” she says when she brings her phone back to her ear, pinching your ass as she stifles a laugh while her mom keeps speaking. The hand around your heart has pink acrylics.

In the passing months, a change you weren’t expecting comes, and you hope that if you don’t acknowledge it, it will stay this way. An undercover Eurydice.

Most nights, Melissa barely let you get out a greeting before you were pinned against the door, lips on your, hands roaming under your shirt. Some nights she was slow, gentle, loving almost, taking her time and kissing every inch of you. Those nights made it hard to separate the feelings you have from the ones she dances around talking about.

There are other days though, your favorite days. Ones like tonight, where both of you are exhausted and just want to no longer exist to the world. Instead, you feel as though you’re in your own world out here on her back porch. You peek over at Melissa as you take a hit from a joint you packed before driving over, eyes closed, Melissa doesn’t see you.

Watching closer than you should, your eyes stay on her as she moves to take a sip of the Cabarnet you bought only for her. The way her lips kiss the glass, how she licks her lips to never waste a drop. If she asked, you’d gladly kiss away rogue droplets of wine. She’s beautiful, truly beautiful. She knows it, but she doesn’t really believe it, always rolling her eyes when you mumble it against her thighs. You wish you could tell her whenever the thought crossed your mind, every time you look at her. Exhaling, you turn away, mouthing a silent fuck to yourself. Bringing the J to your lips, you try to keep from being caught.

Melissa’s head drops, propping her chin on her shoulder with droopy eyes, “can we just sleep tonight? ‘M slipping into a coma over here.”

You chuckle, copying her pose, rose-tinted eyes flitting over her, “sounds great.”

For the first time in five months, Melissa holds you as you both fall asleep in the center of the bed.

You love these nights, ones where you can pretend Melissa is just as much yours as you are hers.

A cruel, ten month anniversary gift of sorts comes in the form of a friend in the hospital cafeteria.

Your phone pings where it sits in your scrub shirt pocket, your chest tightens.

Melissa: I’ll be home around 6, if you’re free tonight.

The grin on your face is not unnoticed by your friend as she sits back in front of you. Shauna taps the table to get your attention, “that your girl?”

“She’s not my girl,” you mumble, typing out a reply to Melissa.

when am i not free for you?

Shauna scoffs, speaking under her breath, “like you actually think that.”

You place your phone back on the table with a little force, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s just using you, honey,” Shauna blurts, “you’re at her beck and call, and all she wants is sex. And I know you, that’s not what you want.”

“And what do I want, oh wise one?”

“Her,” she replies. “I’ve known you too long to not know that you’re in love with her. I’ve also known Mel long enough to say that she is going to break your heart.”

You kiss your teeth, “what do you know about what Melissa wants?”

Shauna doesn’t appreciate your defensive attitude, so she gives you the hard truth, “she said this whole thing is just casual. Pretty stress relief, I think were her exact words.”

You are stress relief, nothing more. Another ping.

Melissa: See you then baby.

—☽—

When you arrive on Melissa’s doorstep, you desperately want to turn and run, save yourself before you feel any more. The equally desperate need to be near her knocks for you, but when she answers, you can barely meet her gaze. Green eyes flick from your face to your wringing hands, pink lips shifting to a frown.

“What’s bothering you?” Melissa asks gently, locking the door behind you. When you shake your head, struggling to kick your shoe off, her arms wrap around your waist, chin on your shoulder. She feels you stiffen, pouting to herself, “I know something’s wrong, you look like Eeyore in torrential downpour.”

You huff a laugh and lean against her, “just… stress.”

“Hmm,” glossy lips press to your neck, soft and slow, “want me to get rid of some of that?” The feeling of her hands on you is so convincing, it overrides what you know you should do. Turning in her arms, you press your lips into her and let her take control.

Her mouth wraps around your nipple, thumb slowly torturing your clit as her fingers work you through your third orgasm. From the twitch of your hips, she knows you’re at your limit, carefully removing her fingers from you. Greedy hands tug at her, pulling her to your lips as you flip your bodies, straddling her hips. Traveling down, you delight in her whimpers as you suck at her skin, leaving behind marks comparable to the wine she loves.

Your hands spread her legs, taking your rightful place between them. Sensual, slow, loving kisses down her soft stomach, all leading to where she needs you most. Her hips buck as you get closer to her center, breath tickling her pearl. With a flat tongue, you fulfill her wish, licking a stripe from the base of her slit to her clit, moaning into her. Hands harshly grip your hair, tugging when you suck on her clit. Your own hand slides from her strong thigh to her plush breasts, toying with her nipples as you devour her.

Husky pants draw from her throat, pitchy whines breaking through when your fingers begin to toy with her entrance. Neither of you care about the phone ringing from the nightstand. All you can hear is hoarse moans of oh god and please, faster, all you feel, taste, and smell, is Melissa. You both peer to the nightstand when it rings again, desperately trying to ignore it. A second finger enters Melissa as her attention falls back on you, her eyes meeting yours as she moans, fueling your desire.

A third ringing of the phone almost makes her scream, and tapping your shoulder with vigor to stop you before the phone is forced to ring again. You quickly, and gently, retract your fingers, allowing Melissa to shakily reach for her phone. The blood drains from her face as she looks at the screen, staring at you where you rest on her thigh, answering with a gulp.

“H-” she clears her throat, “hey, ma.” Your eyes almost bulge from your head. “I was in the middle of a shower, sorry,” she gets out quickly, nearly laughing at herself and you purse your lips to contain your own giggle, “well, the kids had a project with glitter, had to get it off.”

“Get something off,” you mumble quietly, pressing a kiss to the junction of her hip. Melissa playfully smacks your arm as she listens to her mother, pressing her finger to her grinning lips.

“Well, I got a friend over right now…” Friend. “Yes, the freak,” she chuckles warmly, patting your hand before her hand freezes on yours, “oh- I… can ask.” Her eyes leave her lap, now looking to you, “wanna go get dinner at Cirillo’s? My parent’s treat.”

Your eyebrows rise, “do you… want me to go?” You’ve met Kristen Marie, and only quickly ran into her cousin Vinny, but her parents were a whole other story.

“Wouldn’t have offered otherwise,” it feels genuine. You nod.

Arturo and Giorgia Schemmenti are exactly who would expect Melissa’s parents to be. Giorgia shares suspicion openly on her face, Arturo, on the other hand, has a resting smile. You think in the moment, you’ve got them figured out, but the way they unblinkingly look when you speak terrifies you, as if they’re analyzing every breath you take and every twitch of your hand. Silent prayers from both you and Melissa ask they don’t realize you were forced to wear one of her shirts, having arrived to her place in an ancient sweatshirt from your backseat.

You answer every question they ask you, although confused on the need to grill you so closely. What do you do for work? How many siblings? Ever gotten a speeding ticket? How’s your relationship with your parents? Do you have any sexually transmitted diseases? Thoughts on Reagan? Ever cheated on one of your past partners? MRI technician, sir. Two brothers. Twice, one on my way to school, one on my way to the hospital for my grandmother. Not great, I guess? No, ma’am, I get tested every two months. Hope he’s in hell. No, God, no.

“Lord, you two, let up. We haven’t even gotten the tzatziki yet,” Melissa says, laying the drinks menu down on the table.

“Just trynna get to know your friend, Meli,” Arturo turns his attention to you, “swear, all the girl does is talk about you, and I still know nothing.” The ringed hand at the edge of the table clenches, knuckles white.

You just shrug, “afraid I’m not that interesting.” I’m just a friend. 

You miss how Melissa looks at you, brows turned up as she glimpses your sad smile. However, you feel a warm hand go to your thigh, squeezing gently. When her parents' attention diverts to a large party walking in, she whispers in your ear, “I don’t like when you talk about yourself like that, you’re very interesting. Should know, I’ve studied every inch of you for hours.”

It takes a deep breath and every ounce of strength to not wiggle in your seat. Reprieve comes in the shape of a definitely stoned server, lucky bastard, and reprieve is taken away when he tells you that food may be a little delayed due to the rush. Melissa’s parents nod with understanding, you nod with fear bubbling. A delay means longer here, with Melissa’s hand on your thigh with her parents speaking about everything and nothing from across the table.

It’s getting harder and harder to focus with Melissa’s fingers drawing little patterns over your jeans, skin burning beneath her touch. Peering over at her, you can see an almost-hidden mark from early, the easy smile on her lips as she talks to her dad, she’s perfect in your eyes. In this lighting, it’s hard to look away from her, orange-hued lights making her look golden.

Rising from your chair, you just give a quiet, “I’ll be right back.” You turn to walk towards the restrooms, desperate for space away from judging hazel and green eyes across the table. Melissa watches your direction, excusing herself too, following where you disappeared under the sign reading τουαλέτα.

In the short hallway, she grabs your wrist before you enter the door, pulling you to the family room to the right. Locking the door, she places her hands on your hips, “are they freaking you out? I’ll tell them to knock it off, or we can go, say you’re on call or something.”

“No,” you say, place your palms against her shoulders, “it’s just overwhelming, all the questions, your dad asking for my credit score, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t have to tell him,” she chuckles, hands dipping to your ass.

You shiver from her touch, leaning into her, “it’s a good score, though.”

“It is,” you barely hear her words as she presses her lips to yours, all the energy from earlier still running through her veins. Your hands slide down her arms to her hips, pushing her back towards the sink. We’ve been here before.

Hopping up, she settles against the porcelain and opens her legs to let you stand between them. Keeping your lips on hers, you quickly unbutton her jeans, forcing the zipping down. You know her like the back of your hand at this point, know how to touch her to make her writhe and release around your fingers, you’re utterly devoted to her pleasure.

The previously ruined orgasm comes back quickly with full force, her clenching around you quickly. Her lips leave yours, shoving her face into your shoulder to mute her moans. Lips brushing the shell of her ear, you circle your thumb over her clit and whisper, “God, you are so beautiful. C’mon, baby, cum for me.”

Teeth chomp into your shoulder as her writhing becomes erratic against your hand before slowing as she relaxes against you. Her breathing evens out, quicker than you expect, her face becoming unreadable as it lifts from its hiding place. Surprisingly, she stays silently leaned against you as you wash your hands, letting you fix her hair before you fix your own.

Arturo and Giorgia seemingly notice nothing, believing the excuse of a busy line, one visible from your seats. If they don’t believe you, they don’t give anything away, though their questions ease up once the food comes. It must be a Schemmenti thing to be quiet for the first few bites of food, taking in every flavor. It’s endearing.

Both Schemmenti’s hug you, to even more surprise, telling you how delightful it was to put a face to a commonly brought up name. Melissa pinches the bridge of her nose before hugging her mother, mumbling something to the woman before embracing her father.

The entire drive back to her house, you can’t find it in you to speak, too lost in thought. Melissa talks about you, often, often enough that her parents wanted to meet you. Why would they question you so much, especially if you’re just their daughter’s friend? Wanting to know about your ‘past’ relationships, as opposed to what, your… current one? It hits you embarrassingly late, as Melissa pulls into the driveway: her parents think she’s talking about you because she’s dating you, and think she just hasn’t officially told them. All you can do is turn and look at her, bewildered.

Hand on the key in the ignition, Melissa turns and looks at you, “I don’t know about you, but I’m exha- What?” When she doesn’t get an answer, her face screws with worry, “what’s wrong, baby?”

Blinking rapidly, you scan over her face, “you talk about me to your parents.”

“Well I’m with you a lot, it's natural to talk about you,” she says like it’s obvious, turning off the car.

“Enough that your parents wanted to meet me, know about my family and dating history?”

Her face hardens, and you wish you’d never spoken, her voice demands respect “well, they got the wrong idea. Being nosy is in their blood, being right isn’t.”

“Okay,” you’re exasperated. 

“You and I, this isn’t a relationship, no expectations, no attachments. Just good, old-fashioned sex between friends,” Melissa says slowly, brow raised, “capisce?”

“Yeah…Capisce,” you say, stepping out of the car, pulling your keys from your pocket.

“What are you doing?” Melissa says, realizing you aren’t behind her as she goes to the front door.

You turn and face her, standing in the open car door, “I’m going home. You want no attachments, I can’t give that to you anymore.”

She steps down from the bottom step, “Baby-”

“Don’t. I don’t want you to be in something you don’t want, you want casual, Melissa. Stress relief,” her eyes dart to you at the wording, your eyes look down to your feet, “what I feel for you, it’s beyond that, beyond what you want me to feel.”

“You don’t know what I want,” she gets closer, hand reaching for you, but you brush her off.

“I’m all you want until I want you.” When she doesn’t reply, you sit and close the door, pulling out of the driveway with Melissa staring where you’d stood.

—☽—

Two weeks of radio silence. This is the longest in the near year you’ve spent with Melissa where you haven’t seen one another. Last time it was four days after you brought up a date for the second time, six days before that when she found out that Kristen Marie called you when she was drunk and needed a ride home from God-knows-where, begging you to not tell Melissa, accidentally blurting it herself.

You wish you didn’t miss her, her laugh, the smell of eucalyptus shampoo, her touch, her eyes, her hands, her smile, her little dance when she takes food out of the oven. She was all that surrounded you for so long, it’s all you know. It feels wrong to be without her, but it hurts to think about her. Salt entered the wound when Shauna dared to mention Melissa going on a date with some vending machine guy, immediate regret when you got up and left soon after. You're thankful to not hear of him again.

Another week passes, and as a month gets closer to passing, the hole in your chest has yet to heal over. Your phone buzzes next to you where you blankly watch the documentary that was playing.

From Shauna: i fucked up. apologies to ur door in advance

To Shauna: thank u for the context

From Shauna: i poked the ginger bear

From Shauna: by poked i mean chewed out

To Shauna: again, i fear the context has yet to appear

From Shauna: yelled at ur ex-mommy for treating you like a toy from spencers

To Shauna: i’ll pass on your apology to my door in my will

Comedic timing is a very real thing, hard knocking on your door, clearly both fists meeting the wood.

Ripping the door open, you stare down a tired-eyed, yet irate, Melissa, “unnecessary. I have a buzzer.”

“And I have a Cost-Co card,” she says, pushing her way into your home.

“What are you doing here?”

Hands on her hips, she turns and faces you, “your- I’d say our, but not right now- your friend just chewed me a new one about leading you on. Leading you on?! As if we didn’t have an arrangement, no feelings, just sex.”

“An agreement that I ended! Because I got feelings! It wasn’t just sex for me, it stopped being just sex a long time ago,” you never thought you’d be raising your voice at her like this, “I tried to tell you, all those dates I offered, everything I’ve ever said to you, I meant all of it. And what do I get? No, baby, we’re casual. So, I tapped out.”

“Because we were casual! There’s supposed to be no feelings here!”

“Then how’s that vending machine guy, huh? He’s been having conversations with just your tits for months, and he got a date, but where is he now?” She flounders. “Did you take him home? Or try?” She nods imperceptibly. “I would bet my whole life savings on the fact he probably couldn’t even get you wet, let alone make you cum. How right am I?”

Her lips tremble, “that’s not the point.”

“Just a question, needs an answer.” Melissa shakes her head, confirming your suspicions. “Why are you actually here, Melissa?”

Emerald eyes look into yours, emotion swirling through them as she asks quietly, “do you still have feelings for me?”

You won’t lie, you never can with her, “haven’t wavered once.”

Carefully, Melissa steps slowly into your space, hands coming to your sides, “I’m stupid. So fucking stupid. I thought all I wanted was sex, but when you left and I tried to just make myself… move on. It didn’t feel the same, being alone doesn’t feel the same. It’s so stupid and cliché and stupid that it took you leaving me to realize… Fuck, I feel like a Jane Austen character.”

Weary hands rise to her face, holding her with a special reverence, “I need to hear you say it.” The magnetic pull between you brings you into her, lips only an inch from her own.

Fingers grip your shirt, “I… I love you. I have since you told the Jehovah’s Witnesses to eat a bag of locusts and ass on Christmas Eve.”

The little smile that plays on her lips, clearly picturing the memory, it heals something in you. Brushing your lips against hers, you mumble, “I love you, too. ”

The kiss she presses to your lips is so different from any other you’d shared, but the desperation brings you back to that first night in the bathroom. Tongues graze, and a fire is ignited. Spinning her, you walk her back towards your bedroom, a place she’s only been twice in the last year.

Falling as her knees hit the bed, she takes you with her, and you gladly take your place. Just as the last time you were with her, you straddle her waist, continuing to kiss her with all the emotion you can express. Ringed fingers tug at your shirt, begging for contact. You don’t deny her, nor yourself, pulling her shirt off of her after yours, both lost on the floor. Jeans fly to meet them soon after.

Lips, tongue, and teeth clash as you fall into the feeling of each other’s skin. Moving down, you nip at her neck, sucking roughly on her pulse point to leave a mark. You continue your mission down her chest, leaving red splotches across her breasts. Always so sensitive, Melissa arches into your affections, groaning when your tongue swirls around her nipple, leaving a string of saliva that connects you to it as you pull away.

Shifting lower and lower, giving her abdomen attention, soft kisses trailing down. Your lips trail over silvery stretch marks, following as they lead you to her plush thighs. Teeth wrap around the waistband of her thong, eyes glancing to her as a silent request of permission.

“Please, baby,” her voice airy and whiny as she basks in the affection you so readily give her.

Pulling down her thong, tossing it to the side, your eyes fall to her pussy. Lips blooming in arousal, clit swollen, begging for a touch it hasn’t received in too long. You press a gentle kiss to her pearl, hearing another whine pass her lips, hips bucking slightly for you.

How you missed her. Your tongue licks up her slit, gathering the wetness that accumulated there, dancing up around her clit. A divine taste so feminine, so uniquely Melissa, you moan into her as you grip her thighs, working your tongue into her opening. Dusty purple nails dig into your hand, and you flip your wrist to interlock your fingers, feeling her squeeze tightly.

Your tongue leaves her, much to her dismay. Blown out eyes follow your reach to the nightstand, a clear bottle of lube procured. Your lips press to hers again as you spread the lube across your fingers and lower your hand to her entrance, replacing the contact of your tongue. Throaty moans leave her lips, more, please. Slowly, your ring finger joins the middle, allowing her a moment to adjust before quickening your motions, moaning yourself at the feeling of her cunt gripping your fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say against her lips, “so beautiful.” Teeth pull at her bottom lip, making her groan into your mouth, kiss going sloppy.

“I- oh- I love you,” Melissa answers through a moan, grinding against your thumb on her sensitive bud. A particular curl of your fingers makes her silently scream, soothed by your gentle mouthing of her neck.

Your index finger lines with her slit, “can you take more?”

She nods quickly, forcing your lips back to hers as a third finger stretches slowly, moans turning squeaky. All you can hear is the airy moans and the wetness of her pussy taking your fingers, sparking a warmth in your lower stomach. You can feel how close she is, how her walls refuse to let go, how her eyes flutter as they roll back.

In a sudden moment, your fingers stop, pulling from her. Her head snaps up, eyes immediately on you, “what are you doing?” God, the glassy look in your eyes almost breaks your heart.

“Hold on, gorgeous,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to her chest. Leaning over to the nightstand again, still straddling Melissa’s waist as her hands hold yours, you blindly reach into the drawer, searching for a familiar object. Finding the small, flat toy, you sit back against her, holding it to her eye level. Catching your drift, she nods, legs widening as she sits up slightly against the headboard.

Pressing the vibrator against her thigh, you turn it to the middle setting, feeling her jump a little at the sensation. Slowly, you slide it closer to her clit, using your free hand to slide one of her legs till it’s propped up. Lowering yourself, you press your clit against the top of the toy, keeping it pressed between your heat and hers, both of you moaning in unison.

Rolling your hips, a breathless moan leaves you, ducking your head as your eyes close in ecstasy. Sharp nails dig into your ass, pulling you down further, moans crescendoing. It feels like you’re too far from her, immediately dropping to press your lips to hers in open-mouthed kisses, whining against her lips as she holds you to her. Using her thigh for leverage, you use your own leg to press harder to her cunt, rolling against her in a way that forces her teeth into your shoulder.

The strong vibration against your clit and Melissa’s presence alone has you holding on by a thread, and from the way the redhead is holding onto you, you know she is too. Putting your weight fully on your right hand, your left grabs Melissa’s, tangling your fingers together. Her lips move languidly across yours, tongue dancing with yours rather than fighting for dominance, something she never did before. The emotions of it all and the coil snapping in your stomach, your forehead drops to her shoulder, panting as you feel your climax approach.

“Baby, ple-oh-please,” the hand creating crescent-shaped dents in your back shifts to your hair.

“I gotchu, let go for me,” your teeth tug at her earlobe, “cum for me, beautiful.”

A final, hard roll of your hips sets you both alight, moaning as you cum in tandem.

Both of you squirm as the toy works against you still. Lifting off her, you remove the toy from its place against her, turning it off and placing it on the nightstand to be dealt with later. Lowering yourself, you come face to face with her pussy, swollen and wet and beautiful. With gentle strokes, you lick her clean, taking your time to savor her taste.

Melissa’s husky moans spur you on, lapping up to her sensitive clit. Barely suckling on the nub has her tensing again, her grip on you doesn’t let you go far, not that you were planning on it regardless. She cums on your tongue, giving you a taste once more. Sweet decadence.

Easing your way back up with loving kisses up her body, laying on your side next to her, chest to chest. Your legs stay tangled together, no space exists between you.

The hand not in hers rises to her face, pushing loose, wild hair away, caressing her cheek. Melissa turns her head to press a kiss to your thumb, her own hand coming to your wrist.

“I love you,” she says, “I really, really do.”

You stroke her cheek again, “I love you, too.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you how I did,” her eyes water, “I don’t have any excuses. I’m just so sorry, baby.”

“Well, we’ve got all the time you want with me to make it up to me,” you say, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

She smiles weakly, “I want all the time with you.”

Your lips press to her lips this time, “then that’s what you get.” Leaning across you, Melissa puts herself on your lap, her favorite place to sit. Face hovering above yours for only a moment, she tucks herself into the crook of your neck, keeping her weight on top of you.

Sticky with sweat, the scent of sex around you, the tracing of nails up and down your sides, dancing over your ribs. Nothing has changed and everything has. You have always been Melissa’s, she has always been yours, now you finally have each other. Warm breath over your neck evens out, the lost sleep and recently lost energy catching up to her. You, however, you are invigorated.

For the first time in a year, you get to hold your Melissa.

kudos to anyone that can find all the song references and the singular lisa ann reference that is so small u will miss it

as towa bird says: scissor your friends!

feed back appreciated as always <3

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #lgbtq fanfiction #lesbian #lgbtq

[yourfatherlucifer]

Extraterrestrial (JYH)

Alien!Yunho x afab!reader

Summary: Your ship is on the brink of being forever lost in the galaxy, but when a monster invades your ship to top it all off, his plans for you are a cause for concern.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, egg preg, alienxhuman sex, rough and mean Yunho, dead husband San, monster cock, tall ass Yunho

AU: Alien/Space

Genre: Smut

WC: 2.2k

Tags: For @potatomountain because I know you’ve been struggling lately, so I hope you can enjoy this with all your might. You deserve this. I love you, friend. This is longest I’ve written in so long..lol

Nets: @newworldnet

The rapid beeping of the ship was so overwhelming, the red lights were flashing in warning. The shaking was so powerful. If only you didn’t run into that asteroid belt earlier from running from a pirate space ship. With your crew still in cryogenic states, you could only handle this on your own.

You were the captain after all, the expert in the technology. Of course, you could’ve awoken your second in command but you didn’t want to bother them. The process was a painstaking one anyway.

The rattling was beginning to get annoying as you tried to do everything you could, “Dammit, come on!” You smacked the control panel, clearly getting frustrated.

There wasn’t another planet for several light years and that was so agitating. There was nowhere to stop to repair your ship. Even the hull was damaged, you were sure something fell off from the collision.

You were scared to death that your ship would explode and you’d never make it home. This expedition was supposed to save you from your dying planet to find a new one.

You reached down to kiss the photo necklace wrapped around your neck. It was of your dead husband, San. He was an astronaut explorer as well. But his ship was lost and he never made it back home. You could only assume he was dead. It’s been a year after all. So you took this mission upon yourself, in hopes of finding him or a new planet for your human population to live on. You wanted to make your husband proud.

“I’m so sorry, Sannie, I’ve failed us both and our planet.” A tear fell down your cheeks as your fist collided against the console in frustration.

A flash passed by your ship but you didn’t even notice, too busy focusing on your impending death.

The beep stopped abruptly which made you look around confused, “The hell..?”

A couple of chittering sounds caught your attention and you spun around, only to be met with an eight foot tall hunched over alien. He..if it was a he, was beautiful. With his tanned skin and green scales, he looked almost human. If it wasn’t for the scales and tentacles coming out of his back and his ridiculously long legs, you would’ve thought it was someone from your crew.

So, how’d it get in?

“What..what do you want?” You backed up into the console, clearly confused and scared.

Was he here to eat you? To steal from you? Just what-

His face softened up with a smile, “I’m not going to eat you, so you can stop thinking about it. I’m not going to steal from you either.”

“Then what is it you want? I don’t have anything else to offer.” You crossed your arms over your chest, still not sure of his intentions.

“Well, I have a proposition for you, human.” His long legs carried him over to you, from there you could see his beautiful green eyes and somehow handsome face.

You’d never seen an alien up close, of course, back on earth, there was always talk of extraterrestrials but never any appearing despite the very popular pop culture of alien invasions. Even with the planet dying, there was none.

“Well, I’ll fix your ship for you. But.”

“But?”

“Let me impregnate you with my eggs. It’s my species mating season and unfortunately for me. I’m away from my planet and you’re the only near species I can copulate with. I have to get these eggs out or it’s painful for me. I’m not about to waste them either.” His eyes scanned your body, clear with interest.

“If I agree, you will one hundred percent fix my ship?” You had to admit, he was far too attractive to deny his offer.

“Yes, and I don’t break my promises. I’m desperate and you’re definitely the perfect specimen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and slipped off your shirt, “Alright, I don’t see why not then.”

He grinned in relief, watching as your breasts bounced in their final confines, “Perfect.”

He walked even closer, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you with ease to set you on the ships console, “I will warn you, I’m nothing like the human men you can have intercourse with. I’m far bigger. I might just break you.”

You licked your lips in excitement, “I don’t mind, the bigger the better.” You joked, trying to ease the tension.

“You say that, until I’ve fucked you full with my children.” He grabbed the strings of his loin cloth and it fell to the floor.

Your eyes widened at the sheer size of his length, he wasn’t lying. This was the biggest cock you’ve seen, probably even the prettiest. It couldn’t even compare to your deceased husbands cock. Even though he was big for your species. But this alien, was massive.

He looked like measured to at least 10 inches, if not more. The girth was crazy as well. Green scales lined the thick and spined base. Just like some spots on his body.

“Um..wow…” you were in complete shock, unable to tear your eyes away, until you felt something thick and slimy pull your head back up to face him. It was one of his tentacles.

“My name is Yunho. That is what you will scream as I breed you, got it?” His voice became stern and it was so attractive, you could feel yourself becoming a waterfall below.

Yunho growled as his nose turned up to sniff the air, “I can smell you human, your cunt is excreting such a sweet scent. I must ravage you.”

You whimpered with his words, “Please, tear me apart. I want to feel you.”

“Be patient, human. You’ll get it.” His fingers wrapped around the hem of your pants and yanked them down, along with your soaked underwear. He threw them to the captain's chair behind him and groaned in the new exposure of your scent.

Yunho’s face dove to the source, his tongue licking up a stripe between your folds. Gathering your slick on his wet appendage. He moaned in the flavor, “Oh, human. You have no idea how I’m going to ruin you. You will search the galaxy for me after I’m done with you.” His teeth sunk into the plush of your inner thighs, “You will continue to search for the same feeling I’m going to give you. And only will I return to collect my kin.”

You could only whine in response, tugging onto his black hair.

“You are nothing but a breedable toy for me. Nothing more, nothing less, do you understand that?”

“Yes, yes!”

His tongue encircled your weeping hole and prodded at your walls, he was enjoying this far too much. Your human sounds were delightful to his ears.

“Yunho!” You cried out when he moved away from your cunt to your thigh once again, planting his teeth into the skin. You could only assume this was his way of marking his mate.

“What are you?” You whined as he pulled away.

“I will never tell you my species name. I will not let you find me until I need to find you. This is a one in a change opportunity, hush before I change my mind.” Yunho’s eyes flashed over, warning you with ill intent, “I will not hesitate to leave you and your ship stranded.” He was mean but you loved it.

He eventually lost interest in eating your cunt out and moved his tentacle to replace his tongue instead. It was slightly thinner than his massive cock, so it must be used to prep you.

As it slowly slid inside, Yunho had stood up, pulling your hips closer to his to the point his cock rested against your abdomen. It was so big that it reached the valley of your breasts. Just how was he going to fit without rearranging your organs?

He watched as his tentacle slowly sank in, he could barely feel how you pulled him in. However he could feel just how tight you were. That was going to be a problem. So maybe two tentacles would have to stretch you out for him.

He groaned in thought, he didn’t expect having to do so much work for a human cunt to fit him and his eggs.

“Come on, stop being so tight, human.” Yunho’s grip only tightened as his tentacle tried to slither in further.

Once that one was settled in, another snaked around from his back all the way to your occupied cunt. It pushed its way in, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent scream.

“That’s more like it.” Yunho’s large hand reached to cup your breast while he felt your cunt loosen around him, “Soon I’ll be able to breed you.”

“I don’t care, just fuck me, Yunho, please!”

Yunho shrugged, “If you insist.” His two tentacles began pumping in and out, the sloshing sounds of your cunts arousal and the excrement excreting from his tentacles didn’t help.

He held you tight to his chest because you could barely sit up straight with the way he was fucking into you. It was even his cock yet and he had you weak.

You weren’t used to being so packed. Just the two tentacles combined were bigger than your husband's cock when he used to make love to you.

“Stop thinking of that human man. I’m the one fucking you. Get him out of your head.” He growled in warning.

“I can’t just erase my husband’s memory!”

Since the image wasn’t disappearing from your head, Yunho bit between your shoulder and neck, “I won’t tell you again.”

“Fine!” You tried to focus on the way his tentacles fucked in unison only for them to pull out and get replaced by his monster size cock instead.

This time a scream fell out of your throat, he was so big. Far too big. You could feel him ripping you apart from the inside. Even the bulge in your stomach from him was painful, but felt too good at the same time.

His hips slammed against yours with each thrust. The console creaked in protest.

Yunho’s grip was so tight that it was nearly painful but you didn’t care, not when your senses were dulling from the way his cock buried itself deep within your wet cavern.

“Yunho!” You cried out. He was being very rough with you. He manhandled you all the way to captains chair, planting himself in the seat.

He made your legs straddle him. You didn’t know how you were going to ride him, not with how weak you felt, “Come on, human, you can do it.”

You whimpered as you sunk yourself back down, legs shaking in protest.

Yunho grinned as he watched you struggle to take him, “Don’t be pathetic, I know you can do it.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you repeatedly fucked yourself on him, “It hurts so good.”

His free hand squeezed the bulge each time it appeared on your stomach. He was making it worse but you assume he did this to get it over with. You were sure it wasn’t pleasant for him to fuck a human much smaller than his alien form.

As you reached your nth orgasm, tears were flowing down your cheeks, how hadn’t he cum yet? Why weren’t you filled yet?

“You’ll get it soon, be patient, human. You’re so eager to carry my children.” This had him smirking. He wanted to ruin you.

His hips thrusted up to match your pace and help you along, “Doing so well, little human.” His reached back to grip your hair and yank it backwards, exposing more neck to him.

Yunho marked your neck with more bites and bruises, marking his territory for any other aliens passing by or anyone that invades this ship while he’s gone, awaiting for his children’s birth.

Once his thrusted started slowing down, that’s when you knew he was near. His cock began enlarging and your eyes widened in shock, “Oh fuck, Yunho!”

He stopped your movements and waited as his eggs flowed out his cock and into your cunt, all the way to your womb, “That’s right..take it all. Like the good human mother you will be.” His hand rubbed your stomach as it began swelling with several of his eggs.

He was proud. Very proud and felt relieved. Yunho we finally free of his pain and relieved for the future of his bloodline.

“My perfect breedable toy.” Once his cock returned to normal size, he slowly pulled out, watching as you became breathless. Nearly doubling over.

“So full..” you whined, holding your stomach with such care.

“Good.” He stood up and rested you where he once sat, “I’m going to leave now. I’ll repair your ship on my way out. I’ll return in a few earth months. Your pregnancy won’t be as long as the normal human one.”

You looked ethereal but he wasn’t going to stick around, not when his use for you was over.

“Yunho..” Your breasts were in pain, already trying to accommodate the eggs inside of you.

“Don’t do anything to my eggs while I’m gone, or I’ll destroy everything.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed, making his way to the exit.

“I won’t..”

“Good. Farewell human, await my return.”

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #x reader #yunho x reader #Yunho smut

[lichenes]

"Emo boy..."

Little something to get me back into writing... Feel free to send me asks! Enjoy :D

CW: kinda mutual pining, mischaracterisation probably (.-.), it'll get better in part two if you guys want it :D, SFW wc: 699

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He entered your little shop, looking incredibly strange amongst the cornflowers and alliums you were displaying. "Mornin'! How can I help you?" You asked cheerily, way too happy for the hour that was shown on the clock just behind you. 

König had just recently retired. He loved the military life, truly the only thing he could say he deeply and passionately loved. Taught to always sleep with one eye open, he wasn’t adjusting to civilian life very well.

‘The quickest way to brighten up your house is to decorate it with flowers!’ He heard from the overzealous neighbour, truly delighted to meet him (and afraid for the safety of her and her kids, obviously). Immediately, he looked up a flower shop near him. Not being allowed to keep more than a flip phone on himself, he wasn’t used to the freedom internet gave. 

The next day, he got up bright and early to avoid people as much as he could. König was hoping for his visit to escape everyone's attention. Admittedly it was difficult, with his overbearing frame, towering over nearly every person he stumbled upon. 

You weren’t fully conscious yet, having woken up less than an hour ago. Running your own business could be quite a feat, especially with alarm clocks which don’t work quite well. Your hair was a bit dishevelled but you were hoping to fix it around your lunch break. 

He was staring. You noticed something was off about him but you just waited politely for him to ask you for whatever it was he was here for. In the gentlest voice he could muster he asked. “What do you have that would brighten up a house?” He used the same phrase as the neighbour, her name not quite cemented in his brain. You were taken aback for just a quick moment but slipped back into your customer service voice. 

You went on about the types that would suit any home, and he listened intently, opting to go for daffodils. König paid for his bouquet and thanked you. While you were wrapping the flowers you tried to make polite conversation. “Did the missus send you here?” He looked around, chuckling nervously. “No, no, I needed something to get me out of the house you know?” That was an obvious lie, but you didn’t question him further. 

The next time he showed up at your shop, you recognised him as that window shopping, huge guy who usually walked past your shop, gracing it with a fleeting glance. “Hello! What can I help you with?” For a guy his size, he sure knew how to make himself look small. You weren’t quite sure what he wanted with you, but your ego didn’t allow for you to think all this was about you.

He scared you a little, but you’d never admit that. His anxious demeanor of a lost puppy was neutralising his terrifying presence pretty effectively. “Sorry to bother but-” You waved your hand as if to say ‘not a bother’. “There's this person I’m trying to thank…” He went on about their personality, gushing at how inviting their presence was. You were drinking it up like fine wine, becoming more and more interested in him by the minute. 

“She’s my neighbour actually! So I was hoping to repay her for giving me the idea and buying her flowers.” He blushed a little. Not that you would notice under the face mask he was wearing. “I need to ask, flowers do have meaning after all.” You tried to explain yourself, not wanting to seem too intrusive. “Is it supposed to be a friendly bouquet or a let’s-go-on-a-date kinda thing?” 

He waved his arms in front of his chest. “It’s nothing like that!!” You smiled at his antics as he added. “I’ve got my eyes on someone else…” Your cheeks, suddenly, felt hotter than they should’ve for the conversation you were supposedly having. 

He got out with the bouquet you suggested and thanked you profusely. König didn’t even give you his name, and you could already feel being smitten by the cruel, cruel gods of love. God damnit, you were hoping to see him soon.

pt. 2?

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#x reader #writing #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #cod #cod x reader #fluff #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig mw2

[f4iry-bell]

Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!

Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.

first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.

NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.

Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.

It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.

His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.

“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.

“You’re going to fall.” She told him.

He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”

“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.

He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.

“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.

“I’m Avery,” She corrected.

She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.

“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.

She crossed her arms. “No.”

He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.

“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.

“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.

“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.

“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”

She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.

“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”

“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”

“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.

“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.

“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.

Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.

The Will Read

Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.

Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.

“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”

Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.

“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.

“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.

“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.

“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”

Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.

There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.

“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”

“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.

Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”

Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.

The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…

“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”

And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.

Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.

“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”

“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.

“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”

“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.

“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.

“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”

“I don’t understand,” She said.

“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”

Oren stood between us and her.

“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”

“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.

“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”

“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.

“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.

Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”

“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.

Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.

Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway

Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.

If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.

Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.

He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.

“Pull the candlestick.”

He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.

“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.

He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”

She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.

“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”

“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”

“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?

She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.

“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”

She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.

“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.

“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.

He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.

“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.

“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”

Points to Heiress. She's quick.

“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.

“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”

“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.

“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.

“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”

This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.

“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.

“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”

“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.

“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.

“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”

“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.

“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”

“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.

“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”

She does, she wants to know. She must.

“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”

Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)

Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.

His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.

He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.

When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”

“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.

“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.

“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.

“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”

Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.

#jameson hawthorne #the inheritance games #the final gambit #jameson hawthorne pov #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #the grandest game

[moonwatcher3]

possible hot take (Ive rarely interacted with the wof fandom till getting tumblr so i don’t know) but GOSH do i hate secretkeeper.

I know that she was trying to keep moon safe from the horrible nightwing island but hiding moon in a log in the middle of the rain forest? that just sounds awful, moon as a baby dragonet could’ve been eaten or harmed by animals that at the time were bigger than her, in *The Flames of Hope* when moon shares her story to convince freedom to let Luna and Dusky go we see that moon literally had to talk herself up to go get bananas. for any dragon with a normal life in the rain forest they would see a banana and maybe think “oh i’m hungry i’m gonna go get a banana!” but Moonwatcher had to tell herself that she would be okay if she went to get the bananas since her mom wasn’t there to go get them for her.

I admire secretkeepers determination to keep moon safe and healthy but i HATE how much it caused moon to grow up alone, through almost all her life, it affects moon socially and emotionally, Sectetkeeper told her to “stay secret stay hidden stay safe” so with the “stay secret” secretkeeper told moon that it would be dangerous if her mind reading powers were known among other dragons, but clearly it wasn’t because moons friends pretty quickly accept that moon can hear their thoughts (yes they do enjoy that moon was blocked out with the sky fire but still) so that means moon lived afraid of her powers being known for no reason

“stay hidden” moon was terrified of interacting with the students of Jade Mountain Academy because moon had only ever known her mother and then the rude nightwings that moved into the rainforest yes the dragonets of destiny too but they were busy with the school and holding up a whole kingdom so she really only had sunny and starflight, there wasn’t much secretkeeper could have done about this one since it would’ve meant loosing moon or possibly having to keep moon on the island so i’m not too mad about this one i guess

“stay safe” this is a good lesson yes but the way secretkeeper told moon this lesson was by showing her all the horrible things that could happen to her, that’s what really soils my mood too because moon was a happy dragonet sleeping next to her mother when she had hatched but when secretkeeper had to leave she filled baby moons mind with images of all the horrid things that could happen if moon didn’t stay hidden, moon was barely hatched that’s a horrible thing to do to your baby honestly

secretkeeper had good intentions yes but her execution was terrible and i feel like that’s what makes moon sometimes come off as too shy and a liar

sorry about the rant, couldn’t get this off my mind and i apologize for the possibly poor grammar i never memorized this stuff (i was too busy drawing💀)

#digital art #digital drawing #wings of fire #wof #wof art #wof design #digital illustration #digital painting #dragon art #for you #wof moonwatcher #wings of fire moonwatcher #moon #rant post #personal #personal rant #secret keeper

[glimmervoi]

A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD - VII The End of the Winter Ball

masterlist

e&b masterlist

notes: i tried to push the second part out quickly since it took me so long to get the first part out 🥲 i hope that it's good! enjoy <33

Your mind raced as you stared at the crown. It was strikingly beautiful, encrusted with emeralds and diamonds that glittered in the candlelight. Regardless of how much a stableboy saved, he would never be able to afford it.

Nothing that expensive could belong to anyone other than a member of the royal family. Even if a Duke could afford it, it would be a direct slap in the face to someone who represented the royal lineage.

As your eyes remained fixated on the glittering crown, the realization sank in. This man was a prince. You vividly recalled the informal conversation that you had had with him just a few days before. He had helped you with your duties. You must have seemed so incompetent…

Now, once again in his presence, you found yourself unable to move. Had you even bowed? You felt a jolt go down your spine as you realized that no, you hadn’t. Just another insult to him, no doubt.

You quickly bent your body into a deep bow, your breathing uneven. “I apologize, Sir.” You stammered, avoiding his gaze and fixing your eyes on his chest. The deep green suit he wore, made from the smoothest velvet material and embroidered with brilliant golden thread…its value alone could have rivaled that of his crown.

“Don’t you remember me?” He asked in a smooth voice tinged with amusement. You didn’t find it very funny though, your stomach only filling with unease. As you recalled your first meeting with him, an alarming thought shot through you.

Had he been testing you? Was this a game to him? You had heard the rumors about one of the princes, Taehyung. How he liked to play cruel games with the maids. Was this him? He had never told you his name…

You had mistaken his previous interaction as flirting, but what if it was just a ploy to assess you? Or maybe he had known and was looking for an excuse to humiliate you or hurt you. You had been focused on Namjoon, but what if it was Taehyung who wanted to punish you all along?

You nodded nervously, your fingers trembling. You spoke quickly. “I apologize for failing to recognize you at first.” You said, fear causing your heart to beat so quickly, you were sure it would burst from your chest. “I swear it wasn’t intentional. I’m still new, and I…”

He took your hand, and the familiar tingling feeling that you had once craved was gone, replaced with a painful burning that seemed to pulse through your veins. You winced. You wanted to pull your hand away, your eyes growing wet as the burning in your skin seemed to spread.

“It’s alright, my love.” He murmured, his eyes soft and tender. As his hand moved to touch your cheek, you shook your head and glanced around anxiously. What if the other guests were watching? What if they saw the prince touching you like this?

You couldn't risk the consequences, especially after your conversation with Iseul. You tried to pull away, desperate for some space. The burning sensation was more than uncomfortable, and so was the thought of Iseul and her wooden weapon. 

Thankfully, no one seemed to be watching. Heart pounding, you tried to pull away again, desperate to put some distance between you and the handsome prince. “I-I’m sorry, Sir.” You stammered, voice barely above a whisper. “I must return to my duties. Please accept my apologies for any offense I may have caused with my actions, both current and old.”

The prince’s smile broadened, revealing pearly white teeth, and he placed a large warm hand on your shoulder. “Sweetheart…” He cooed softly, as he leaned in. Instinctively, you tried to back away again. Something about him sent your alarm bells ringing, as though he was a hunter and you were his prey.

“If I choose to speak with you, then it becomes your duty to listen.” He said, straightening himself. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. He was right. He was royalty. Whatever he wanted, it was your responsibility to handle…

“I will ask you only once, stop treating me with such coldness and formality.” His voice was stern, but the smile on his lips was kind. The contradiction sent a confused swirl of emotions through you, and you once again felt a shudder run down your spine. You were in dangerous territory now.

“Come wi-” He said, his words cut off mid-sentence by a younger, blond man who casually draped his arm over the dark-haired prince’s broad shoulders. 

“Hoseok!” The younger man chimed, his plump lips curling into a playful smile. “The key event will be over soon, so father wants us to leave so we can make our grand entrance….again.”

With a roll of his eyes, Hoseok attempted to shrug off the younger man’s hold. Confusion and realization struck you at the same time. Father…Us….The pieces started falling into place in your mind as you spotted the golden glint atop the younger man’s head. A golden crown encrusted with rubies. 

You were now face to face with a second prince.

Your legs wobbled underneath you, and you tried to fight off the deep frown that threatened to show on your lips. As the two princes had a quiet argument, you stood there, too scared to leave without being dismissed. You were slightly relieved though, as you realized that it wasn’t Taehyung that stood before you.

“Not now, Jimin.” Hoseok grumbled, his attention shifting back to you. Jimin huffed before reluctantly turning his own gaze towards you. He didn’t bother to conceal the irritation that crossed his features as he scanned you from head to toe.

“It’s just a maid, it can wait.” Jimin remarked flatly, as he approached you. He examined your face closely, before lifting his fingers to gently brush against your cheek. “Although, she is rather lovely for such a plain girl.”

A peculiar sensation rippled down your spine the moment his fingers made contact with your skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. It was as if an icy bucket of water had been poured down your back, causing you to arch slightly as if it could ease the sensation.

Before you could make another attempt to excuse yourself, Jimin cleared his throat and retreated a step, a peculiar expression flickering across his features. “We should go, Hoseok.” He said, gesturing towards the large doors of the ballroom. “Everyone else is waiting for us.”

Hoseok cast one final glance in your direction before nodding towards his brother and turning away. You watched as the brothers strode towards the door, then swiftly made your way to the now empty kitchen area.

You burst through the doors and immediately dropped to your knees, the tray clattering to the ground. Your behavior from a few days prior, although not intentional, could get you in a large amount of trouble. You were certain now that it was Hoseok that had summoned you tonight.

His behavior had made you uncomfortable and had only confused you even more about his intentions. You had intended on avoiding the royal family as much as possible, yet tonight you had encountered and spoken to two princes. You knew you needed to shape up before facing severe consequences, possibly even imprisonment in the dungeons below the castle. 

You remained on the ground for a few more moments, attempting to regain your composure, before you slowly rose to your feet. As you bent over to pick up your tray, Iseul stormed into the kitchen.

“I knew it!” She exclaimed before you could even utter a greeting. Your brow furrowed in confusion, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach before you realized that she had no doubt witnessed your interaction with Hoseok. Your conversation from earlier in the night flashed through your mind and suddenly it all clicked.

In Iseul’s mind, it was confirmed that you were involved with Hoseok.

“You misunderstand - “ You tried to say, but you faltered as Sanria appeared in the doorway, her expression full of disgust and anger. Iseul shook her head and sneered as you dropped to your knees again.

“Please, it’s not what you think!” You pleaded desperately. But both maids had already made up their minds. Sanria folded her arms tightly across her chest, frowning down at you as Iseul slowly pulled the rod from her apron. 

“You foolish girl.” Sanria said lowly, her sharp eyes glinting. 

You barely had a moment to brace yourself before Iseul brought the rod up, and then harshly down against your shoulder. You squealed in pain and brought a hand up to your shoulder. 

You didn’t have a chance to recover before she swung the rod down again, this time against your side. You yelped, tears spilling down your cheeks as you felt pain bloom through your skin. The sickening sound of wood hitting your body, even through cloth, was loud in the small room.

Over and over, Iseul brought the rod down onto your body as Sanria stood against the wall with a stoic look on her face. Your yelps and cries eventually turned into whimpering and huffs of pain, accompanied by the sound of the rod whooshing through the air and hitting your body, until Iseul finally relented.

The dark haired woman was panting, her face beet red. She straightened, took a few deep breaths, and then nodded curtly to Sanria. Sanria nodded back, before staring down at you again.

You were shaking from the pain, your tears wetting the floor underneath you. “Let this be a lesson,” She said to you, clutching the handle of her own rod. “To not get involved with royalty. You are a maid. Nothing more.”

“If you are caught interacting with that prince again, then you will find the fate that waits for you is far more unpleasant than Iseul’s rod.” She finished, before turning on her heel and leaving.

Iseul allowed you a few moments to lay on the ground, your whimpers the only sound in the room, before forcefully pulling you up. “Your duties are not finished for the night.” She spat, her voice thick with disdain. “Wipe your tears and return to the ballroom. Isabella is waiting for you. Dinner will begin shortly.”

She observed you for a brief moment, frowning when you were unable to compose yourself. Without hesitation, she thrust a clean rag at your face, aggressively wiping away your tears. “Do not anger me further.” She growled. With a hard shove towards the door, she pointed. “Get out there, now.”

You stumbled back into the warm glow of the ballroom, your vision blurred by tears. As you blinked away the haze, you noticed the tables had been rearranged. Through your teary eyes, you spotted a long table positioned at the front of the room, along with nine chairs - no doubt for the royal family.

The smaller tables were arranged in a way that faced the large table, as if the guests were to observe the royal family as they ate. You didn’t care too much about that though, as your body was throbbing with pain. All you longed for now was your bed and the comforting presence of Rae and Alice.

Isabella stood by the door, and she gently grasped your arm. Her eyes were sympathetic. “Come with me.” She murmured softly, guiding you to the back of the room. There, you noticed other maids beginning to line up as the guests took their seats.

“I saw everything.” Isabella whispered quietly as you both stood with your arms behind your back in a formal stance. “From your interaction with Prince Hoseok to the beating from Iseul.”

“I’m not flirting with him.” You said shakily, your gaze fixed to the ground. “I swear, I don't even know what just happened with him…I’m not trying to break the rules.”

“I believe you.” Isabella said, gently nudging your aching shoulder with her own. You looked up at her, your lower lip trembling. She offered a kind smile. “I know that Iseul and Sanria can be quite volatile. Don’t worry, I’m on your side.”

She fell silent as the chatter in the room gradually subsided. Moments later, a burly man strode into the room, his presence commanding attention. A crown, grander than Hoseoks, rested atop his messy black hair. It was adorned with a rainbow of jewels. It looked uncomfortably heavy, and for a moment you wondered if that was why he looked so cranky. He settled into a seat at the middle of the table. Without a word, he absently scratched at his unruly dark beard and waved his hand dismissively at the guests who bowed for him.

There was no mistaking him - he was the king.

His unkempt appearance caught you off guard. For someone of such importance, you would have anticipated a more…polished presentation. Despite not knowing the Queen, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. The thought of being married to a man who couldn't be bothered to groom himself made you want to wrinkle your nose. 

Moments later, an elegant woman approached the table. Her long, sleek brown hair cascaded down her back like silk, shimmering in the light. She wore a simple yet stunning emerald gown, embroidered in gold just as Hoseok’s suit had been. Despite how simple her dress was compared to the other guests, it was still no doubt quite expensive. 

She too wore a crown, this one almost as heavy as the King’s. As she took her place at the table beside the bored King, it was clear that she was the Queen.

Trailing behind her were two maids, clad in pristine white dresses with matching aprons. Lace veils covered their faces. They stood straight, their posture more firm than stone. They looked as though they were two ghosts, and the sight of them made your blood chill. 

The Queen’s maids took their place behind her, their hands clasped in front of them with an eerie stillness. Their total lack of movement was almost unsettling, drawing your attention away from your own pain as you watched them carefully.

The Queen nodded her head to the guests in thanks as they bowed for her, her smile radiating kindness. Yet, beneath the surface, you sensed a certain venom akin to a viper. You didn’t know her well, but you had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to encounter her in the halls.

One by one, seven other men joined the King and Queen at the table, their striking beauty taking your breath away. Adorned in vibrant attire and regal crowns, it was no wonder the women in the room swooned at them.

Among them, you noted Hoseok, who took a seat beside Jimin. His gaze swept over the crowd before settling on you. You tensed and quickly averted your eyes, wary of inciting anymore of Iseul’s wrath.

The ache in your body served as a painful reminder of the punishment that you had endured. When you dared to glance back, Hoseok was speaking with his mother.

As the guests settled into their seats, the Queen rose again. A hush fell over the crowd. With a kind smile, she surveyed the room before addressing the guests.

“My friends, welcome.” She began, her voice smooth and gentle like a lullaby. Despite your unease towards her, you found your shoulders relaxing. “I am grateful to spend yet another winter ball with you all.”

She continued, emphasizing her words with a graceful gesture. “As you know, my son Seokjin will soon be wed.” The crowd murmured their approval, and you wondered which prince was Seokjin as you observed their handsome but indifferent faces.

“He and Lady Woong will make a lovely couple.” The Queen said, raising a golden chalice in a toast. The guests followed suit, but her sons and husband remained impassive. It seemed the rest of the royal family weren’t too excited about the news.

The Queen went on, discussing matters of trade and the status of neighboring cities like Shivermaw and Rosespire. You were surprised when she delved into relations with neighboring kingdoms such as Caidal and Nightfall, a topic you expected to be discussed by the King instead.

Finally, she concluded her speech and the crowd erupted into applause as she returned to her seat. Then, the kitchen maids, dressed in uniforms similar to yours, began to bring out platters of food. Guests began their conversations again, no doubt in excitement at the amazing spread in front of them.

“We will remain here while they work.” Isabella said, nodding towards the bustling kitchen staff. “This is the part where we simply stand here and look pretty. Once dinner is served, you may return to your chambers.”

You nodded at Isabella, silently hoping that the guests would finish eating quickly. Your legs trembled with fatigue, and you wanted nothing more than a warm bath to ease the ache in your body.

Isabella remained quiet for a moment before speaking again, her voice soft. “I arrived here three years ago and started in your position. Same tasks, same head maid. Oh, and of course not knowing who was who in the royal family. Coming from a poor village, we didn’t have the luxury of seeing paintings of them.”

You nodded again in agreement, feeling a sense of comfort from her. She seemed genuinely kind, like someone you could trust - a stark contrast to Iseul and Sanria.

“I try to reach new maids before Iseul and Sanria can.” Isabella continued, a frown on her lips. “I’ve experienced their wrath one too many times myself. I like to offer some advice and basic information before new maids have a chance to get themselves in trouble. I may have been a bit late with you. I apologize.”

“It’s alright.” You said softly, offering her a weak smile. “I appreciate the sentiment. I would definitely welcome any advice though. I’d rather avoid another beating if possible.” 

Isabella returned your smile warmly. “Of course.” She said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. Let’s see…Ah, I know! I’m sure you’ve already noticed, but Sanria isn’t very fond of her staff.”

You stifled a bitter laugh. “Not very fond?” You echoed, remembering the blonde woman who was beaten on your first day. “More like, she hates all of us with every fiber of her being.”

Isabella nodded sympathetically. “Well, there is a way to get on her good side.” She said, her voice lowering. “Mind you, her good side isn't much nicer than her regular side. But, it is better than constantly being threatened with beatings or the dungeons.”

“She won't compliment you or spare you from punishment, but she will assign you easier tasks and let you rise in the ranks. She may even let you sleep in for a few extra minutes or increase your pay slightly if you’re one of her favorites. Maybe, she’ll let you leave the castle for a night out more often than the other girls. All you have to do is spoil her with gifts.”

“As for Iseul…” Isabella sighed softly. “She’s a bit more straightforward. Just treat her like royalty herself, and she will suddenly become the nicest person you know. Of course, she’ll only be like that when it is the two of you, but it's better than her being mean all the time, right?”

You hummed in agreement, though the thought of attempting to become friends with Iseul and Sanria after what had just happened made you wrinkle your nose. “Some other tips for you are common sense, really.” Isabella said. “Always try to be on time and behave yourself. If a prince or distinguished guest wishes to talk to you, you are obligated to unless someone of a higher rank tells you otherwise.”

You winced as you remembered your awkward conversation with Hoseok less than an hour earlier. Your gaze drifted back to the royal family again. A dark haired woman in a golden gown stood in front of the table, her head tilted back as she conversed with the Queen and one of the princes who wore a suit of pure yellow. Though her face remained hidden, the longing glances she received from the men at the lower tables suggested she was quite attractive.

Isabella leaned in toward you again, her voice still quiet. “That woman you’re staring at is Lady Woong.” She murmured. Your brows rose. That was Seokjin’s fiance, according to the Queen. “The Queen is supposedly very fond of her, but Seokjin doesn’t feel the same way.”

“So that must mean….” You began, examining the prince in yellow. His suit was practically glittering and was nearly as bright as the metal atop his head. “The Prince she is speaking with is Seokjin?”

Isabella nodded, and you glanced at Prince Seokjin once more. He sat with his chin propped on his fist, a slight frown tugging at his plump lips. His gaze was fixed downward at the elegant Lady before him, one eyebrow raised in a manner that seemed to silently ask, “Are you finished?”

“Prince Seokjin likes to roam the castle, entertaining himself with whichever Lady he finds most appealing that day.” Isabella remarked, her cheeks tinting pink slightly. “Thankfully, he tends to spare the servants, but it doesn’t mean that we’re entirely safe from stumbling upon him when he is engaged in…less-than-proper activities.

“With women other than Lady Woong?” You asked, surprised. If he had a fiance, then it was very improper for him to be involved with others. Then again, he was royalty. He could get away with breaking as many rules as he wanted.

“Yes, almost every young woman in this room has been in his bed at least once.” Isabella confirmed, her tone tinged with disapproval. “And there are plenty more who are not here tonight.”

She shook her head before continuing. “Anyways, Prince Seokjin is the eldest of the brothers. He’s supposed to inherit the throne when the King either passes away or retires from the throne, but apparently Seokjin has no interest in such matters.”

Isabella gestured towards Namjoon, who was seated on the other side of Jimin. His midnight blue suit seemed to absorb the surrounding light, yet the glimmer of gems that encrusted the fabric sparkled like stars. He seemed impossibly regal, just as he did on the day that you had met him, yet there was also an air of relaxed authority as if he carried the weight of his status with ease.

“That’s Prince Namjoon. Rumor has it, he’ll be the next in line for the throne.” Isabella said, her gaze briefly meeting yours. “The Queen wants Seokjin to take the throne, but everyone else expects Namjoon to take over. He’s considered the most intelligent of the seven brothers, and the King favors him for his natural leadership abilities. Although, I’ve heard whispers from some of the other maids that Namjoon has no love for his father…”

You observed the grumpy figure seated at the center of the table, and it wasn't difficult to understand why Namjoon might not like his father. The King exuded an aura of unpleasantness, both in personality and hygiene. Then again, you admitted to yourself, you knew little about the older man - you could be misjudging him entirely.

“Many believe Namjoon aspires to become King himself. He respects his brothers greatly, so many believe he won't challenge any of them for the throne if they truly want it.” Isabella explained, before turning to Hoseok.

The handsome prince was now engaged in a conversation with Jimin once more. He was gesturing lively, his expressions animated. It was a stark contrast to the demeanor of most of his brothers.

"You've already met Hoseok. He's the third oldest brother, and probably one of the more amiable ones you'll encounter during your time here at the castle. He has a habit of dressing up as a servant and mingling while incognito rather than partaking in his royal duties. The Queen dotes on him, but... It's said that the King has reprimanded her on several occasions for indulging him in his behavior.”

Ah, so he was kinder than some of his other siblings. Perhaps that meant he harbored no ill intentions toward you after your earlier encounter? It was hard to say for certain; you hardly knew him, even with Isabella’s short description. Still, it provided a glimmer of reassurance to soothe your worries.

"Despite his kind demeanor, remember that he is a prince. Treating him like a fellow servant isn't advisable. He has his limits, as Chef Anton learned... the hard way. But Hoseok isn't the only relatively kind-hearted Prince around here," Isabella cautioned, gesturing toward one of the younger-looking Princes.

Clad in a dark red suit, his honey-brown hair impeccably styled like Seokjin’s, he had doe-like eyes that exuded innocence and a kindness that only made him seem younger. Undoubtedly the youngest of the seven, he seemed to be in a different world in his mind.

"Prince Jungkook is the kindest among his brothers. It's rare to see him agitated. While he may not venture into antics like his brother, Hoseok, he's always been respectful and considerate to us servants. Word has it, he's deeply devoted to his mother, fulfilling every duty with care," Isabella remarked, her gaze softening as she observed the younger prince. It was evident she held a fondness for him.

"Of course, I mentioned that 'It takes a lot to get him riled up.' That implies he's not immune to anger, much like his brothers. Fortunately, I've yet to witness Prince Jungkook's wrath, and I intend to keep it that way. You'd be wise to do the same. While his triggers remain unknown to me, it's best to approach him with caution, despite his gentle demeanor," Isabella advised, her tone carrying a note of seriousness.

"That's actually more unsettling than the other warnings I've received," you admitted, your brows furrowing. "It's somewhat easier when you understand what triggers someone's anger. But when you're in the dark about it, it feels like walking on eggshells, especially if that person happens to be a prince."

Isabella nodded in agreement. "It's definitely intimidating to think about. But, in my experience, if you actually get to know him, you'll find that he's not as intimidating as some of the others... like Prince Taehyung, for instance." She gestured towards the imposing figure of a black-haired prince, clad in a pristine white suit.

You couldn't shake the feeling that he would look better in a deep red or even black suit. The white ensemble made him appear too ethereal, almost like a harmless angel. He seemed to practically glow in the light. Yet, you knew better than to be deceived by appearances alone. Despite his angelic facade, he was reputed to be the cruelest of the seven. The tales you'd heard, coupled with the sinister glint behind his black eyes…he was a wolf. A very, very dangerous one.

"Steer clear of Prince Taehyung, no matter what," Isabella cautioned, her voice firm but hushed. "He's highly unpredictable... You never know what might set him off. Many maids learn that the hard way, and it's rather unfortunate. Usually, he avoids areas designated for servants as he holds disdain for us. But every now and then, he ventures into those spaces and releases his anger on whoever happens to be nearby."

You felt the urge to scoff at that. His behavior was senselessly malicious, and he could indulge in it without consequence simply because of his royal status. It infuriated you that someone could act so disdainfully just because they were born into a supposedly "superior" lineage. However, you wisely kept these thoughts to yourself. Your life was far too precious to risk by voicing such opinions. If the wrong person caught wind of what you were saying, then your head could end up on the chopping block.

"If by any chance you do find yourself in the presence of Prince Taehyung, remember to show the utmost respect. Keep your head down, bow deeply, and make every effort to appear submissive. Any hint of defiance may provoke his wrath. The consequences could range from a barrage of chilling threats to outright violence."

"I can practically see the alarm creeping onto your face," Isabella murmured, offering you a sympathetic smile. "Let's change the subject, shall we? You've already encountered Prince Jimin, haven't you?" She inquired, to which you nodded.

She shifted her attention to the blonde Prince, who, while brushing something off the shoulder of his lilac-colored suit, remained fixated on his own reflection in his silver spoon. You observed him carefully. He appeared rather self-absorbed, evident from his behavior and posture.

Abruptly his gaze shifted from the spoon to you, causing you to flinch instinctively. You lowered your head immediately, a rush of shock flooding your mind. Sensing your discomfort, Isabella shuffled an inch closer to you, her arm brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. After a few tense moments of silence, she let out a slow breath.

"He's not looking anymore," Isabella said softly, her voice a reassuring whisper. You hesitantly lifted your gaze, drawing in a deep breath when you saw that his attention was now focused on one of his brothers. Though you didn't know the name of the prince he was conversing with, his mere presence across the room was already intimidating. The thought of facing him up close sent a shiver down your spine.

"Prince Jimin is relatively harmless to the servants," Isabella began to explain again, her arm still offering a comforting presence against yours. "He doesn’t seem to care much for us, but he doesn’t go out of his way to bother us either. His wrath is more focused on actual members of the court."

"He indulges in…inappropriate affairs and revels in extravagant gatherings, much like Prince Seokjin. However, when a Lady displeases him, Prince Seokjin often lets it slide and moves on. Prince Jimin on the other hand, wields his wrath differently. He tarnishes her social standing, stripping her of titles and isolating her from society. She becomes an outcast, devoid of friends, invitations, and sometimes even financial security if matters escalate. Fortunately, as servants, we are spared from such concerns."

"The Prince conversing with Jimin is Prince Yoongi, the second eldest. He's openly expressed his disinterest in the throne and royal responsibilities. Yoongi exudes a chilly demeanor towards everyone but fortunately, he doesn't direct his ire towards the servants... as long as they steer clear of the east wing."

"What's in the east wing?" you asked, curiosity piqued. You studied the darkly dressed Prince, speculating about the secrets he might be concealing. Was he engaged in suspicious activities? No, there had been no rumors of anyone going missing. Perhaps he had a secret wife? No, that seemed implausible. Why would a wealthy prince confine a secret partner to the castle instead of housing her in a separate residence?

"Nobody really knows," Isabella replied with a nonchalant shrug. "We're not allowed in there, so we steer clear. Some speculate that it's just an empty space, and Prince Yoongi prefers solitude. Others entertain darker theories. Regardless, it's best to ignore the rumors and suppress your curiosity. If Prince Yoongi catches you snooping around that wing, I dread thinking about his reaction."

"I hope this helps," Isabella said, her posture straightening as she turned her gaze forward once more. "If you need anything, know that you can always come to me. Well, if you can find me, that is. But enough of that. Let's talk more about Greenriver. Perhaps some reminiscing about home will lift our spirits while the guests finish their dinner."

You mirrored Isabella's posture, standing tall with your eyes fixed on the floor to avoid eye contact with a guest or one of the princes. The remainder of the feast passed slowly as you remained by Isabella's side. In hushed tones, you recounted tales of your upbringing in the small village, sharing stories about your family and neighbors. Your life story unfolded quietly amidst the chatter and noises of the guests enjoying their meal.

The conversation with the compassionate maid offered a brief distraction from the growing ache in your body. As dinner concluded and you finished assisting in clearing the tables, Iseul's dismissal came with a sneer and a sting of sharp words. The shattering of the fragile peace you had found in your conversation with Isabella left you feeling cold.

Limping back to your chambers after bidding Isabella farewell, you found Rae sitting on her bed with Alice by her side. There was no need for words as they noticed your distress, rushing to your side with concern etched on their faces. In their comforting embrace, you allowed the tears to flow softly, the other maids nearby stirring from your quiet sobs as you recounted the ordeal of Iseul's punishment.

As the others drifted back into sleep, you confided in your friends about your unsettling encounter with Hoseok. With gentle hands, they wiped away your tears and assured you that they would find a solution in the coming days. Then, they tucked you into your creaking bed, laying on either side to provide comfort as you drifted into a restless slumber.

#bts #yandere bts #yandere bts fic #bts fic #emeralds and blood #yandere hoseok #yandere jimin #yandere jin #yandere jungkook #yandere namjoon

[ww2yaoi]

THIS IS LONG AS FUCK LMAO IM SO SORRY IN ADVANCE I REALLY JUST STARTED YAPPING but i saw your post abt mota characters being underdeveloped compared to other hbo war shows and had some Thoughts

this is something i’ve heard mentioned on a couple reviews from historian guys on youtube and podcasts etc. i’m honestly not sure how much of it is intentional and how much of it is a result of weird pacing and writing decisions made due to budget cuts or episode numbers being reduced or whatever but it is something i thought was interesting:

basically the way the show treats its characters is kinda reflective of the way the air war itself was for the men involved: at first you’d would arrive on base and make close friends and develop rapport with each other a la buck bucky curt croz etc. but then the attrition sets in - someone like curt dies, more and more crews disappear, and on base it’s like they never existed. you get jaded. it becomes harder to get close to the new guys because you know they’re more than likely gonna be dead after the next mission, or you will be, and they’ll have to deal with losing you. this is kinda reflected in the scene after buck n bucky meet rosie. ‘when we go down they won’t remember us either’ etc.

the show kinda does this with the characters it introduces. u meet the main guys in the beginning and get sort of familiar with them, enough to be attached, and then curt fucking dies. if you aren’t well versed in the real history (like i wasn’t) then you have no damn idea who’s surviving to the end, and that makes you approach the remaining leads a little differently. when buck goes down you don’t really know if you’ll see him again. ‘they wouldn’t kill him it’s austin butler’ but they killed barry keoghan already soooo maybe they will? maybe bucky is the main lead now? it’s hard to know who’s safe to stay invested in.

and then obviously we follow bucky through his little romp through germany and then the stalag, (which is tense as fuck because WE DONT KNOW IF HES SAFE NARRATIVELY SPEAKING) but when it switches back to base there’s no mention of him or buck after the initial loss. like they never existed. we get rosie and croz, and a bunch of brand new crews who we mostly don’t recognize and who blend together so easily we have no idea if they survive or not because we don’t care and neither does the show. there is not space to care (diagetically if youre a pilot because you stop putting effort in to get acquainted w them just to lose someone again, and irl because the show stops putting effort in to distinguish them from each other).

guys we even sort of recognize or give a fuck about like nash die immediately. or (this one is kinda a stretch bc obviously their storyline getting forgotten about probably isn’t intentional but) with quinn and bailey when their plot gets dropped you can look at it like the guys on base who cared about them have also died or been shot down, so they’re no longer important to follow. and when buck returns to base in 9 who greets him? croz and rosie. almost nobody else who remembers him is still around. they either died or went to the stalag with him, or to other ones like it.

the show essentially ends up mirroring its characters: starting out with the promise of brotherhood and wartime camaraderie and friendship etc etc and then having it UTTERLY SHATTERED by the realities of the kind of war they are fighting.

it’s honestly fascinating to me. i’ve very rarely experienced a show with a supposedly ensemble cast at the start where the ensemble aspect kind of just gets destroyed and the characters are all killed or permanently split up partway through.

yeah that’s interesting and you have good points. I wasn’t really talking about their bonds with each other though, more so their individual character arcs and personality traits that were often shallow or not fleshed out entirely. I understand not having much of a supporting cast because these men were so expendable, but there were characters like macon and alex etc. who could’ve been given more to do. people have even argued (I don’t know if I entirely agree) that buck and bucky had shallow characterization as well. I think it’s good that you can find that kind of meaning in the show but I don’t think the show does that great of a job at hitting home these points and kind of just arrives there incidentally

then there’s the question of why even adapt this material if it’s not very well suited for a narrative story in the first place. and people can argue about that I’m not gonna touch it lol

but I see your point. I just don’t think the show was that intentional about the way it handled its character arcs. it feels more like things just falling by the wayside than intentional thematic choices

#ask #skyphloxx

[stil-lindigo]

I gave up on the idea of revolution in this country a long time ago. Queer people can't even be assed to stop eating at Chick-fil-A. 53% of white women voters voted for Trump. Americans are too dedicated to going against their own self-interest time and time again...

okay? It’s your right to take a defeatist attitude if you want to, but I’m not going to commiserate with you after Palestinians have asked for a global strike while they’re being ethnically cleansed. You can be a part of a movement, you can recognise that the genocide in Palestine is uniting people all over the world against a fascist state in ways that are unprecedented, you can look at the wave of recent wins in unionization efforts and still hold onto hope. You can also critique people’s commitment to their own comfort, understand the lies and coddling that people who live in a capitalist society grow up with. But there’s a balance.

#free palestine #sorry if I came off rude but idk how I’m supposed to respond to this #in light of what I’ve recently posted about making efforts to participate in a global strike this felt targeted #I’m sorry if that wasn’t your intention #but giving up is a privilege when people in palestine are still fighting

[impish-ivy]

why can't you say more in relation to the post about archiving om stuff? that's an easy way to give ppl anxiety

Because it involves leaks and I’m not the person who would be at risk if I told you or anyone else what it was. Sorry, that’s just how it is.

If it makes you feel any better it probably won’t happen until next year.

#also this was gonna happen eventually #you’d have to be naive to think the OG app would be online as long as NB #I’m sorry your anxious that wasn’t my intention with the warning #but I think people need/deserve to know #obey me #obey me Nightbringer #obey me shall we date #ask box

[teamplasmaofficial]

Pelipper Mail.

Hand-cooked red velvet cake, with the icing having a Stufful design. There is a Stufful plushie too, but the Pelipper is unsure how it got there.

Ah. Thank you for the gift, although I must not accept any more baked goods in the mail. I am slightly concerned on the state of the plush. It seems to be in remarkable condio

#ooc: it wasn’t a plush it was a live ass pokémon. at least to me #ooc: he got attacked #ooc: anon if that wasn’t your intention sorry and i’m funnier than you but if it was good job that’s very funny #plasma leader ghetsis #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #pkmn rp #pokeblog #team plasma #asks #anon #pokeblog rp #pelipper mail

[castielmacleod]

Very picky about how people write reconciled Crowley and Rowena and even MORE picky over how people write reconciled Cas and Claire. These are the two absolutely devastating spn relationships that you just do not fuck around with in my opinion. Reconciliation plots for them can be done well but if you’re going in on either dynamic without giving the experience of both sides equal consideration then as a writer you have already lost

#If you don’t acknowledge the tragedy on both sides of these relationships you’re simply writing nothing imo #Maybe one side had it far worse than the other but if you don’t at least recognise the feelings of the other side #I think you’re doomed to fail. If your goal is to depict them or explore their dynamic in a way that matters anyway #Obviously if you’re writing self-indulgent wish fulfilment for your own subjective enjoyment you don’t necessarily need to go deep #I’m talking about intentional character studies and such #My posts #Not that Cas and Claire isn’t the most fucked up relationship of all time but I also get why Crowley and Rowena can be trickier #Because getting possessed by angels is Not Real and parental child neglect very much is #Few people can balance acknowledging the hell Rowena went through with not being an abuse apologist for what happened to Crowley #Her mistreatment of him was not a “girlboss moment” like as much as Ruth NAILS the delivery of thee career woman line it’s really not funny #in context. #She later acknowledged the harm she caused him and put real visible effort into becoming a better person #which makes her easily one of the best characters on that whole sorry miserable show but #That still doesn’t mean the way she neglected and mistreated and abandoned Crowley was okay. #(Even SHE knows it wasn’t okay. Who are you pretending it was okay for? Not her!) #But if your brain is wrinkly enough you can also recognise that Rowena was young and was herself was horrifically abandoned #and traumatised by that abandonment to the point where she equated loving ANYTHING with being weak and at someone else’s mercy #which she was so desperately scared of feeling ever again. #AND that she is just not a maternal person who had maternity sprung upon her and then was left high and dry with zero support #and a crying screaming piece of the man who did all this to her. A crying screaming piece of HER that she was too terrified to risk loving #And then when she *did* find people who’d support her they came after her for having a child at all. And she made a choice #You can recognise ALL of this without acting like Crowley wasn’t fucked up for LIFE by her #She was fucked up for life by Crowley’s father as it was. And again it doesn’t make it ok but acknowledgement ≠ apologism #Anyway christ I could write essays about the MacLeod cycle of abandonment so I’ll leave it there #I’m saying all this as someone who loves all four characters mentioned in this post with my entire heart by the way #Which is definitely why I feel so strongly when people write the dynamics while clearly partial to one or the other. They all deserve nuance #To me

[thefanciestborrower]

no u 🥺👉👈 i’m a sensitive little guy too. please don’t mean to me when I don’t understand the appeal of shameful kinks

Then like...why are you on a vore blog if you don’t like or understand it? I’m sorry I’m honestly not trying to be mean and I don’t mind explaining why I think it’s cool or talking with people who wanna know more but...idk man I just don’t think coming to someone’s blog and calling a concept they enjoy a ‘shameful kink’ is the best way open a conversation.

#again sorry if I come off as rude or defensive that’s really not my intention #but this honestly felt a bit rude and I don’t wanna keep entertaining someone if they’re only here to insult me #and maybe that really wasn’t your intention and you genuinely are just curious #I like to give people the benefit of the doubt #but at the end of the day this is my happy place of a blog and if you keep insulting it then I’m just not going to respond anymore #simple as that #ask #anon ask #vore mention

[ziracona]

Every time I read my own stuff and get David dialogue it’s so funny to me only one person ever went “Okay but David’s phonetic script isn’t actually an English accent. It’s clearly Scottish,’ which is absolutely true, and I truly don’t know if it’s funnier to me only one person ever called me out on that or asked why it was that way, or that it was Rowan the friend who is part Scottish that did.

#it wasn’t exactly intentional I just write them as I hear them in my head and he was so cool and my genetics said don’t make him British #English I mean #I could t help it it’s in my DNA; he was cool so my mind went ‘ok so from the UK but not English right? *loads Scottish.exe* here we go’ #Rowan if you see this I’m sorry for the suffering you went through until you also swapped the mental track to Scottish.exe using your bro’s #accent if I remember from the comment right. I totally did that it just happened #and then I decided immediately I didn’t want to make it different and let it stand #it’s just who he was in my heart #maybe he picked up an accent from his friends it’s not truly voiced so you can’t /prove/ he didn’t #technically it’s canon compliant. or canon…abiding rofl #the way /they/ write his quotes phonetically it could be fuckin anything BUT rp really. it ain’t hella ‘proper’ whatever he’s about #I feel like the devs were going for cockney based on the script for his quotes but I can’t do that it makes no sense for him but it’s less #good than my wild veer at the same time

[leviiackrman]

There’s a really cool blog that posts awesome vidya gayme gifs but for some reason I’m blocked by them and idk why

#personal* #jess talks #for the record I’m not annoyed or anything like that - I respect this persons reasons (whatever they may be) to have blocked me #I hope it wasn’t because I offended them because I’d hate to know I did that #but regardless I respect their choice #just sad cus they’re gifs are awesome and I wanna be able to reblog them😭 #if I did offend anyone I’d rather be told that I did so I could apologise and/or make up for it #never my intention to do that #could just be cus I post stuff that they don’t like and that’s totally fine by me #catering your online experience to what you wanna see/experience is the whole point of the internet!!! and why it’s so customisable now!!! #so if you know who I’m meaning or you are said person I am sorry #your gifs are awesome and I hope you know that

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

“Love, you really don’t have to.” Simon murmured, his heart racing as he watched you sink to your knees in front of him. His heart was racing a mile a minute, his hands shaking as he struggled with where to put them.

He’d never gotten head before, not once. Nobody had ever offered, and Simon wasn’t the kind of man to ask for any favors in bed. He was always curious though, always wanted to know what it would feel like.

“I want to.” You replied, batting your beautiful, lust blown eyes up at him. “Want to make you feel good, Simon.”

Simon let out a soft groan at your words, and watched as you pulled his hardening length out of the confines of his pants. He held his breath in anticipation, his eyes struggling not to flutter closed as he felt your warm hand wrap around his length.

His breath hitched in his throat as you swirled your tongue across his tip, your eyes fluttering shut at the taste of the accumulated pre-cum soaking the head. He felt you moan softly against it, your tongue beginning to drag up and down his now rock hard cock.

His mind went numb when you finally took him into your mouth, your pretty pink lips thinning around the thickness of his length. He felt your mouth tighten around him, creating a tight, wet suction.

It took everything in him not to cum then and there, between the sight of you taking what you could of his length in your mouth, mixed with the feeling of your wet, hot mouth around his cock was overwhelming.

He let his hands fall to your cheeks, gently cupping at your warm flesh as you began to bob your mouth up and down his length. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, twisting at what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Simon let out chorus of soft grunts and groans, his mind still blissfully numb as he concentrated on the wet, lewd noises your mouth was making, and just how fucking good your pretty lips felt around his cock.

The pleasure was almost too much, and Simon could feel his stomach tighten, a pleasant burn filling his abdomen as his orgasm rapidly approached. His whole body began to tingle, his legs beginning to tremble as you attempted to take him deeper into your mouth.

“Wait, wait, please I’m going to cum.” Simon breathed out, his hands which were on your cheeks gently urging you to pull your head away. “Sw-sweetheart, please.”

But you remained where you were, fully intent on finishing what you started. You hollowed your cheeks further, your tongue skimming along the underside of his length at you continued to bob your head.

“Shit, fuck!” Simon growled, his hands finding your hair and gripping harshly, his cock pulsing inside your mouth as his hot cum shot down your throat. Butterflies filled his belly as he struggled to regain his breath, his cheeks burning crimson from embarrassment. “F-fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You pulled away, your eyes locked on your lovers as you made a show of swallowing what was left of his cum. Simon felt his cock twitch at the sight, as a low grown escaped him. “Oh fuck.”

It was simply the hottest fucking thing Simon had ever seen in his life. And god he wanted to do it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As always thank you SO much to all the immense support recently!!!💕💕💕💕

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #female reader

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2

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