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#morning glory series
daily-rgg-posting · 8 months
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Nishitani is a little homosexual.
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yuripoll · 10 months
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SEASON 2 ROUND 3
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NOTE: Asagao to Kase-san contains some suggestive scenes. Asumi-chan [...] is borderline hentai - very frequent sexual content, very explicit. As the title implies, it also contains depictions of sex work.
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breadandblankets · 1 month
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with those blues on parade (on the sunny side of the street)
BreadAndBlankets
Summary:
Six is a natural hunter, for better or for worse. Humans will spend their whole lives trying to find the purpose in it. They make increasingly terrible decisions in an attempt to maybe catch a glimpse of a reason to stay alive. Six pities them, somedays the only thing that keeps him upright is that surety of purpose, built like bedrock into every cell. Or, Glory muses on the shipping business, a new heavy joined Randolph, and Six is loved and loved and loved
please read the tws before you read if you're sensitive to canon typical dehumanization of synth characters thanks!
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pandagirl45drawing · 6 days
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New Addition to my flower Series. These are fun.
Next is Lily. If you want to add a flower, let me know! I am taking 11 more!
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sweetmelodie · 1 year
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katamarei · 1 year
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disco elysium is my 2nd choice I started it but idk it burned me out with all the text FAST. and that's just like. the game. it was like the same degree of like. being overwhelmed by all the bullshit in an open world game but with a fucking visual novel. it feels stupid but idk I was just like "ughhhh" thinking about trying to go thru all these little dialog trees and finding all the little secrets.. I can't do it.
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okay it’s like this one day you’re nine years old and you’re on your usual saturday morning trip to the library bounding to the “children’s sci-fi and fantasy” section (your favourite section) (the one you’ve been devouring since you could read books by yourself) and there in all its glory is this new interesting series. and what’s it called? something like, percy jackson and the olympians: the lightning thief. and the back of the book speaks of worlds and adventures you’re always itching to read, to go on. to live. so you take it. put it in your pile along with two enid blyton books and a kids recipe book for whatever baked thing you want to try that week. you read it and suddenly you’re dragging your mom to the library before the next saturday, demanding you get the other four books. delighted to find they’re all there waiting for you. you speed through them faster than zeus’ lightning bolts can strike. are suddenly a demigod and hoping to be a child of poseidon and eating blue food (the recipe that week was definitely blue. too blue. your fingernails stained with food colouring) and wanting to be at camp halfblood. and that’s how it is really. for years. all those years to come. even after you stop going to the library. stop being interested in baking. start reading romance books and drowning in homework instead of fantasy worlds.
and then one day you’re twenty four, with two degrees, working on your third. haven’t stepped into a library in ten years. haven’t read anything except research papers in three summers. but you’re twenty four curled up on your parents couch for the holiday. and you press play on a tv show you’ve only sort of been dreaming about. a half bitten, unripe fantasy. you press play and you hear, “look I didn’t want to be a half-blood…” and suddenly very briefly, all at once, you’re nine years old, in a library, on a saturday, holding up a book called, percy jackson and—. and there’s nothing else to do but smile softly to yourself, say “we did it. we got there.” nothing else to do really, but feel your inner child smile back.
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snooyaki · 5 months
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이찬연 — BARISTA BOY ☂︎ CH. I
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a/n: my first ever written work on tmblr wooo 🥳 if this receives good feedback i’ll be willing to turn this into a series! hope you enjoy 💗
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‘DONT CRY … DONT CRY.’ anton repeated to himself, feeling the lump forming in his throat as his eyes couldn’t help but begin to grow glossy. having a full mental breakdown in the middle of brewing up a coffee for a costumer was not an option for the boy. anton sniffled, a shaky exhale releasing from his trembling lips as he finished off his cappuccino with his signature leaf art. what a sad looking leaf it was. anton took a deep exhale, placing the coffee cup down as he pushed it forwards against the counter. ‘speak… you can do it..’
“o-order for minyoung?” anton’s delicate voice cracked.
the boy mentally cussed at himself, watching in fear as the scary woman he had encountered earlier stomped her way up to the counter, anton flinching with every clack of her heels. the woman’s sharp wrinkly eyes glared daggers at the anxious boy who couldn’t help but gulp at the sight.
“finally got my order right??” the woman’s icy tone spat, as anton quickly nodded his head. “y-yes maam… i apologize again for the inconvenience…” anton managed to speak despite his heart rate going off the charts.
anton was having a shitty day.
the boy had woken up that morning and not a thing was going his way. he had slept through his alarm and missed his bus on the way to work, resulting in being scolded by his manager. he had burned himself on one of the steamers, causing a mug to fall and shatter. not to mention the rude customers. anton did not know what was going on today, as it seemed that everyone was not having a good day. especially him.
anton was an emotional boy, one who got overwhelmed easily. today was taking a toll on him. it was mentally and physically draining to contain his tears and his thoughts. he just needed to make it through the day, he kept telling himself.
“excuse me,”
anton paused, eyes widening slightly in realization. he had been staring down at the cash register lost in his thoughts as a customer was patiently waiting for him to come back to his senses. god he was embarrassed. could this day get any worse? the boy lifted his head, ready to apologize to the customer before his words got stuck in his throat at the sight before him.
“… hi,” y/n smiled warmly, gazing up at anton with kind yet curious eyes. “you’re anton lee … right?” her soft voice rang out, a bright and comforting aura radiating off the girl.
anton stared at the girl in disbelief, the tips of his ears slowly beginning to turn a deep shade of red. out of all days his crush could have shown up at his work, it just had to be today? anton shook his head as he snapped back to his senses, a soft chuckle and forced smile came from the boy.
“yeah … yeah that’s me.” he spoke, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly, before meeting her gaze. “you’re y/n l/n … right?”
of course, anton knew who she was. everyone in their school knew who she was. y/n was a star student, known for her good grades, kind soul, and her beauty. it wasn’t a surprise that anton began crushing on y/n in the beginning of tenth grade after being in three out of the six classes a day for a whole year. it had all started the first day of school, when y/n had spoken to him for the first and the last time.
“excuse me!” a hurried voice spoke, catching anton’s attention as the boy curiously turned around, his gaze instantly shooting down. there she was, in all her glory.
y/n gazed up at the boy with a kind smile, holding out a familiar navy-blue notebook in front of the boy. “here, your notebook. you left it in the classroom.” she hummed, as anton’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“oh …” anton muttered, slowly taking the notebook from the girl, a small smile lifting on his lips.
anton could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at her pretty smile. “thanks …” he had managed to speak, before the girl had nodded her head.
“of course,” y/n smiled, before retreating to her friends. anton watched as she walked down the hallway, laughing and giggling with her friends. he watched her until she had disappeared in the large crowd of students.
“anton…?” sohee spoke, not snapping the boy out of his daydreams.
“anton… why are you so red?!”
  ೀ
although of course, anton had no intentions on pursuing her. y/n was way out of his league, or that’s what he believed. he was a silent admirer and planned on keeping it that way.
well, until today.
the girl nodded her head enthusiastically at anton’s question, delighted that he had remembered her name. “mhm! i didn’t know you worked here… this is quite a famous coffee shop.” y/n chuckled softly in attempts to make small conversation with the quiet boy.
anton felt his heart skip a few beats at the sound of her melodic giggle, nibbling his lip anxiously before nodding his head. “ive been working here for a few months now…” anton spoke, his eyes not being able to trail away from the girl’s face as she scanned the menu. anton couldn’t get his eyes off her. it was like he was stuck in a trance, analyzing every feature on her face. her beauty marks, her hair, the way her eyes sparkled excitedly while deciding what she was going to drink.
“make me your favourite order here. i want to try something new.” y/n eagerly spoke, taking anton for surprise. he had never had a customer ask for that before, but he was willing to do it. especially for her.
anton finally gathered the courage to show a little smile, nodding his head in approval at her request. “sure. i’ll make you something good.” anton stated, earning an excited smile from the other.
anton didn’t know what was with him in that moment. he felt a surge of confidence rise. ‘its now or never …’.
“it’s on me,” anton added, his eyes gazing down at his crush, watching as her expression quickly falter. anton rang it through the register before she was able to protest, chuckling at the sight of her shoulders falling in defeat.
“you didn’t have to do that anton…” y/n frowned, almost as if she was glaring at him in disappointment. anton looked down at the floor, a soft blush rising over his cheeks mentally preparing himself to meet her eyes again.
“but… i wanted to.” anton managed to say, his eyes searching for a reaction from the girl.
anton swore he saw her blush. he swore by it, but the self-doubt was convincing him otherwise. he couldn’t tell if he was imagining things. “it’ll be ready at the end of the counter.” anton then added, snapping y/n out of her thoughts.
the girl then showed off her signature smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding in. “thank you anton.” she hummed.
anton’s day was suddenly, not so shitty anymore. he couldn’t help but smile as he made her order the whole time, silently giggling to himself as he thought. he talked to you. he had finally talked to you again. something he had been meaning to do for two years. it finally happened.
anton gazed down at the cup, focusing hard on the heart he hadn’t even realized he made on your latte, resulting in a soft blush when he came to his senses. anton grabbed a lid, placing it over the cup as he let out a soft exhale in preparation before making his way towards the end of the counter.
“order for y/n!” he called out, catching her attention.
y/n gazed up from her phone, shutting it off as she stuffed it into her jacket pocket. the girl then made her way over to anton, grabbing the cup from the shy boy. she examined the way he had written her name. ‘y/n ᵕ̈ ‘ it read in his hand writing. she felt like she could stare at it for days, as a smile began slowly spreading over her face. y/n gazed up at the boy, letting out a soft chuckle. “thank you again anton.” she beamed, as anton gazed down at his feet, flustered.
“of course, y/n.”
the two shared a soft gaze, both in a comfortable silence unable to rip their gazes away, until you had spoken up. “i’ll see you at school…” y/n spoke, not breaking eye contact with anton once before slightly hesitating her next words. “dont be a stranger.” she stated, watching as anton shook his head at the girl. “i wont.” he stated back.
anton watched as the girl then began making her way out of the coffee shop. it saddened him a bit, to see her leave, her figure slipping past the door. but after his encounter with you, he couldn’t have been happier. anton stood there, smiling like an idiot. there were hearts practically surrounding the boy in love.
maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
— nari ¨̮
#ˋ ୨୧ ˊTAGS !
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atticrissfinch · 6 months
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◁ Meet Me in the Back Masterlist ▷
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{Moodboard by the head "sleazy gas station joel" slut herself @chloeangelic}
Status: Ongoing (sporadic) Pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel x fem!reader Series Summary: When you stumble into your local gas station one night and the sleazy clerk refuses to sell you alcohol, you have to get creative. What should have just been a one time bribe winds up being more than you bargained for. Rating: Explicit 18+ for all chapters [Minors Do Not Interact] Series Warnings/Tags: Age gap, daddy!kink, size!kink, breeding!kink, mentions of cigarettes/weed/alcohol, minor degradation!kink, VERY light dubcon for first part, really cringey dirty talk courtesy of joel but it's hot. Please see individual chapters for more indepth warnings/tags. a/n: this series has such a special place in my heart, and i'm so humbled and grateful for all of the love (and reluctant attraction) y'all have expressed for my little slimeball Joel I've crafted. if you're new, i hope you enjoy and please feel free to hop into my inbox with thoughts/headcanons/requests and i'll see what i can do :) 💘
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Main Series:
Part 1: Meet Me in the Back  summary: When the gas station clerk refuses to sell you alcohol after a shitty day, you need to get creative word count: 3.8K
Part 2: The Night Is Dark Enough We’re Only Seeing Stars summary: You can’t resist another visit to Joel in all his pervy glory. word count: 4.7K
Part 3: Hard to Break the Habit summary: When you need some air in your tires, Joel does some filling  word count: ~5k
Part 4: (His) Home for the Holidays: A Meet Me in the Back Christmas Special summary: joel texts you while he’s horny during the holidays, and you decide to visit him at his house after work. word count: ~5.2k
Part 5: I've Got My Red Dress on Tonight summary: when your Valentine’s Day date doesn’t show, you decide there’s one person who would be happy to see you. word count: ~7.8k Part 5.5: The Morning After summary: A little intermediary part. The morning after Valentine's Day. word count: ~3.3k
Part 6: Always on the Tip of my Tongue summary: when you see joel flirting with another girl, you start to lose your head. word count: ~7.6k
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Oneshots/Headcanons/Drabbles:
Underneath Kitchen Lights: A Ficlet summary: You ride Joel’s thigh. That’s about it. Some gross fluff. word count: ~1.6k
Alright with a Slow Burn: A Oneshot summary: Just a casual cockwarming competition on a weekend afternoon. word count: ~5.4k
***
-> Thanksgiving/Black Friday Headcanon (~290 words)
-> A Day in the Life Headcanon (~500 words)
-> First Text Exchange Headcanon (~200 Words)
-> Schtupping the Soccer Mom Headcanon
-> Our Man’s Kinks
-> Prison Lore
-> [NOT CANON] Reader comes over to Mama Miller’s for Christmas
-> Doreen’s Visit (Post-Christmas)
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Extras
-> Spotify Playlist
-> Gas Station Floorplan
-> FANART 1 (Santa!joel) and FANART 2 (everyday Joel) by auteurdelabre!!!
-> Steal His Look!!! by the effervescent chloeangelic once again
-> The MMITB Joel Special
-> Vibey moodboard by Aly iamasaddie!!!
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seattlesellie · 10 months
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e. williams — moonflower.
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.
warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.
an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗
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enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.
the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.
⋆˙⟡♡
you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.
“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.
“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”
louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.
“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”
“how come?”
“it simply shows, pumpkin’”
louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.
ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.
it reminded you of her.
⋆˙⟡♡
ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.
“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”
“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”
you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”
ellie’s breath caged in her throat.
it already does.
“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.
if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.
if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.
⋆˙⟡♡
sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”
you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.
“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.
⋆˙⟡♡
the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.
balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.
“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”
you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.
joel.
you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.
you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.
“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.
“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”
joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.
“she’s still into it, huh?”
“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.
“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.
“found it last week while i was patrollin’”
“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.
“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.
“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”
joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”
you nearly choked up.
“joel… you should come with me”
joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.
“maybe next birthday, kid”
joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.
⋆˙⟡♡
12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…
well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.
again.
usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”
“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.
when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.
would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.
instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.
it was her morning voice.
funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.
“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”
“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.
“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.
“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”
the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.
the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.
you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”
ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.
“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.
“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”
she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.
“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.
“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.
ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”
ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.
“can’t taste my own cake?”
“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.
“yes ma’am”
⋆˙⟡♡
you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.
impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.
you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”
“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.
“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”
before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!
she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.
for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.
“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”
ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”
ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?
maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.
laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;
“hey” she whispers.
“hi” you whisper back.
ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”
impatient.
you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”
she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”
ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.
“apollo one”
she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.
“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.
⋆˙⟡♡
apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”
ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”
interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.
“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.
“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”
that she hasn’t. yet.
ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.
“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”
sweet? intoxicating?
“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”
nah, she thinks she might be something worse.
slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.
“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.
“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.
“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”
“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.
slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.
“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”
“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?
she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?
her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.
thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.
“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…
“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.
“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.
you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.
you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”
“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.
“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“
oh.
ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.
“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.
“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.
“i have wasps”
“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.
“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.
her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.
doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”
“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.
this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.
⋆˙⟡♡
so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.
with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.
what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?
“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.
shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.
besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.
“so… you wanna open them up or not?”
she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)
“fuck yeah”
you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.
the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.
what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—
“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!
“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”
ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…
“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.
“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”
she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.
“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.
“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”
you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…
“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.
“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”
you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.
“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.
“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”
ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.
one whole minute passes.
“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.
you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.
“i’m in love with you”
you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?
“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.
she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…
you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.
like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.
when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.
“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.
still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.
you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.
swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”
she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.
“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.
with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.
with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”
you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”
“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”
you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.
she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“
“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.
“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?
“explode!”
“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.
you’re fuzzy everywhere.
“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.
your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”
you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.
as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.
you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”
“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”
“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—
“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”
when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.
she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”
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billiewena · 7 months
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THREE YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this and this)
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image ID & context below:
[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.
A screenshot of Ed and Harry in SPN 3x13 Ghostfacers saying "You gotta be gay for that poor dead intern" with a screenshot of Misha Collins at the SPNNJ 2023 convention saying "I got a call from Warner Bros and they were like hey uh...is there any world you just let it go?" This is in reference to an incident in 2022 where Misha accidentally made headlines after a comment that seemed to be referring to his sexuality. His comments at this year's panel imply that the studio in fact did not want him to retract the comment and make the apology that he posted, but to instead just roll with it.
A screenshot of Bobby saying "Time travel?" and Dean saying "Yeah" in SPN 6x18 with a headline that says "Jensen Ackles' Explains The Winchester's Multiverse Twist & Supernatural Connection." This is about the series finale of Jensen's Supernatural spinoff "The Winchesters", in which it is revealed Dean and the Impala somehow traveled the multiverse to the alternate timeline the show takes place in.
A screenshot of Dean in SPN 15x08 saying "He's back, and he's out of control" with a screenshot of Misha Collin's first Tumblr post in seven years, a video with him and his brother being a public nuisance on public transportation. Also included are screenshots of various Tumblr users reacting with tags from various tumblr users. becauseofthebowties: "mishacollinsofficial tumblr account back from the dead???" myboobsarentsentientbeings: "this is the first thing he posts? after nearly 7 years???" casismybestfriend: "RED FUCKING ALERT MISHA IS BACK ON TUMBLR" cannabiscasgate: "who the fuck gave you back your password"
A screenshot of two news anchors in SPN 14x20, with one (named Jack) telling his co-host "I love you" and her replying "Jack?" with screenshots of the Destiel/Supernatural Confession meme trending multiple times this year with other current events topics like Russia, Titanic, etc. There is also a screenshot of a post by saintedcastiel that says "I cannot believe that since we started using the destiel meme as a breaking news alert that there hasn't been ONE destiel news anchor AU fic where they're co-anchors on the morning news. cas confessed on accident while they're on air and dean doesn't know how to respond so he just reads the next thing on the teleprompter."
A screenshot of Dean in SPN 5x14 as Cupid says "I-I was just following orders" with a screenshot of an anonymous Tumblr ask to user luxshine. The ask says "Hey! I was wondering if you have any updates on the LATAM dub situation and if you were/will able to contact the dub director". luxshine says "Hi! Well I could get the translator (you know, our dear rogue translator) and he told me that while he doesn't remember it completely (because he translates a lot of series) if Dean said "And I you" it's because the script he got said "And" I you" and the video he saw said "And I you" because he doesn't add stuff." This is in reference to a change in Spanish LATAM dub of Castiel's confession SPN 15x18, which added a line where Dean reciprocates, which was previously suspected to be a change added by the LATAM dubbing director or translator
A screenshot of a detective from SPN 8x08 saying, "[Chuckles] Whatever you say Scully" with a screenshot of the tumble blr blog ao3topshipsbracket's poll "AO3 Top Relationships Bracket - Round 2 Side 1" with Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (The X-Files) vs. Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural.) In the final results from 51,514 votes, Mulder/Scully won by 53% and Castiel/Dean won by 47%. In early 2023, Tumblr added a polls feature which has led to numerous content, debates, and bracket polls similar to this.
A screenshot from SPN 11x15 where Dean says "No money, no glory" with a headline that says "Supernatural creator Eric Kripke gets 'zero' residuals from Netflix"
A screenshot of Dean rising from his grave in SPN 4x01 with a screenshot of a post from the official CW Supernatural Instagram with a clip from the pilot episode and the caption "And the story continues..." and a comment from a user that says "THE STORY CONTINUES?? WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US?? I HAVE ANXIETY YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." For context, no one is sure if the post was supposed to reference new content from Supernatural or not but it has led to speculation.
A screenshot of SPN 8x01, with the onscreen lyric "Another year has passed me by."
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yuripoll · 10 months
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S2 LOSERS ROUND 4
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NOTE: Asagao to Kase-san contains some suggestive scenes. 2DK, G-Pen, Alarm Clock contains depictions of homophobia, fatphobia and misogyny.
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mischiefmanagers · 2 months
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Rhysand Fic Rec Library 🦇💜
"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord. Rhysand is the most delightful High Lord. Rhysand is the most cunning High Lord."
here's a list of one hundred Rhysand x Reader and Rhysand x OC fics to celebrate the most handsome High Lord ✨
🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut
by @sarawritestories
The Most Beautiful High Lady 🥀💞
You Looked Like You Could Use a Partner 💞
by @lalacliffthorne
starshine (series) 🥀💞
by @marvelsmylife
Not As It Seems 🥀💞
Protecting his high lady 🥀💞
I think I wanna marry you 💞
by @swansworth
The Handsome Stranger 🥀💞
My High Lady 🔥
by @writingsbychlo
how we survive 🥀 platonic Rhysand x Reader but it's AMAZING
Home To Us 💞🌼
How to Save a Life 💞
by @azrielsdove
The High Lords 🥀🔥
Til Death Do Us Part 🥀🔥
Money, Power, Glory 🥀
Beautiful Girl 🥀💞
by @historiaxvanserra
What Our Souls Are Made Of 🥀💞
by @honeybeefae
Pretty Little Tears 🔥
by @wishfulwithwine
The Great War 🥀
by @leafsandstarlight
Against Your Brother's Wishes 🥀💞
Easy Like Sunday Morning 💞🔥
Welcome Distraction 🔥
Little Reminders 💞
by @cherhys
Anything, Always 🥀💞
Colliding Visions 💞
by @k-daydreams
Touch in the Dark 🥀
by @azsazz
Dioxazine 💞
Lavender Haze
Hung Up 🔥
by @jeannineee
Pining 🥀
Daddy Kink 🔥
by @ughthatimagineblog
love and loathing 💞🔥
forever and a day 💞
by @fieldofdaisiies
I Never Mean to Hurt You 🥀
by @daydreaming-nerd
The Bonds That Break Us 💞🥀🔥
by @hellcat8908
Returning Home 🥀💞
by @thehighladywrites
This Isn't Goodbye, This Is Simply See You Later 💞🥀🔥
Just One More, I Know You Can Do It 💞🔥
by @lure-of-writing
Where my soul can rest 🥀
by @saphirered
The Ice Queen and the High Lord 🔥
May We Meet Again
by @bookish-whore
'Til Death 💞
Never Made A Difference 🥀
by @tadpolesonalgae
mine 🔥
Knocked up 🔥
by @itsphoenix0724
Promises 🥀
by @fanttasttica
I hate you more.. 🥀
Shy priestess 💞
Finding you 🔥
Your love healed me 🥀💞
Just love me 🥀
One plus one makes three 💞
by @illyrian-dreamer
Dance with the devil
Make a bargain with me 💞🥀
by @azrielbrainrot
My Body Keeps Saying it's Yours 🔥
by @b00kdiary
Dreamer
by @solbaby7
Lose Control 💞
Put On A Show 🔥
Testing the Waters 💞🔥🌼
by @luxsky
Kicking out 💞
by @themusingsofacurlyhairednerd
Warm Me Up 💞🔥
Datura
by @starstruckunknown-princess
Black Rose 🥀
by @acourtofwhatthefuck
Needs Must 🔥
With Me, Always 🥀💞
Shrinking Violet 🔥
Forget Me Not 💞
by @lanitalay
At sea 💞🥀
by @redheadspark
Truth 💞🥀
Carry 💞🥀
My Pleasure 💞
Title 💞
by @azrielslightintheshadows
Game night disaster 🥀
Between you and danger 🥀
by @danikamariewrites
Take Them All Down 🥀🌼
Only For You 💞
Pointless Meetings 💞
Pranks 💞
by @bloodycassian
winter court runaway
by @thevanserrras
The Stolen Night 🥀💞
by @thelov3lybookworm
Winter Without You 🥀
Love Needs No Voice
by @prythianpages
Wanna Be Yours 💞
by @milswrites
Out of the Mountain 🥀
by @readychilledwine
Requiem for a Dream (series) 🥀💞
Broken 🥀
Flight Patterns 🥀💞🌼
Subtle 💞
Scream 🔥
Plot Measure 🥀
Drumming Song 🔥
Family Matters 🔥
Pieces of You 🥀🌼
by @clairebear08
Questioning Motives 🔥
by @serpentandlily
Falling Apart for You 🥀
by @shadowdaddies
Heavy is the Head 🥀💞🔥
Crawl to Me 🥀🔥
by @throneofsapphics
if you insist 💞
surprise reunions 🔥
by @azriels-shadowsinger
Reunited 💞🥀
by batboylover
secretly mated 🥀💞
891 notes · View notes
luxeslore · 9 days
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husband & wife | simon riley
word count -> 2k
content + warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. REGENCY ERA / ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU, f!reader, angsty (hurt + comfort), societal pressures, talk of having babies + mentions of motherhood, suggestive but no smut.
notes from yours truly — huge thank you to my friend for giving this a read for me! bridgerton / the queen charlotte series has officially made me lose it. on that note, please enjoy viscount riley and his precious wife in all their glory.
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Six months. That’s how long you’ve been cooped up in the Riley estate— you’ve been keeping track with the help of your lovely maids. 
The majority of your time is spent in the library. You wake up after Simon has already started his duties for the day, have your breakfast, and then bury your nose in romance novels. Simon has told you to put them down several times, not wanting you to fill your head up with schemes and fairytales. To which you promptly roll your eyes once he’s out of the room. 
It’s not your fault there’s a surprisingly fair amount of them on the shelves; you assume his mother enjoyed them in her time.
There’s little you truly know about the Riley family for someone who’s living in their home. Aside from the common knowledge that Simon’s father was a cruel man. A man that single handedly ruined the reputation of his wife and children through debt, spirits, and an overall cruel disposition. Up until Simon became old enough to truly cease his title of Viscount after his father’s death, they understandably remained in the shadows and out of the ton’s line of sight. 
Your chest had always ached for them whenever something vile was spread around town. Having the same status but a completely different upbringing, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what they went through, especially when society can already be so cruel. 
Sometimes you imagine Simon as a boy. Completely different from the man you married. With full cheeks, surely no sprouts of gray hair hidden in the blonde shag on his head. All of those sweet and innocent qualities you’ve seen in their family portraits. If you had known each other growing up you would have offered him companionship in a heartbeat. 
You can’t help but wonder what your own children will look like… If you and him ever get that far in your marriage. You don’t believe Simon wants children, and you’re not so sure if you can blame him for that. However that isn’t enough reasoning to bat the feeling that’s bubbling in you away. You want a baby. Terribly so, given it’s all you’ve been looking forward to since the idea of marriage and having your own family popped into your pretty head. 
Perhaps bringing a child into an affectionless union would be cruel on your part, but you’d be less lonely. Your heart would be abundantly full hearing little giggles, or the pitter patter of small feet running down the grand hallways to find you. To even just see a piece of you and Simon together that isn’t as forced as your marriage was, but made out of love instead. 
You sniffle once, without even realizing there’s a tear rolling down your cheek. Used to the feeling, you suppose. You toss your book to the side, adding it on to your growing pile before uncurling yourself and getting up from the reading nook. The sky is a deep navy, the stars dazzle through the windows as the moon glows along with them— it’s late, you conclude whilst blowing out the candles in the library.
The bedroom is empty when you arrive. There’s only a few traces of Simon here and there; he spends most of his time in his study. You find yourself getting ready for bed all alone again, with no lover to crawl under the linens with and tuck into. 
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You’re having a peaceful morning. You’ve opened the windows in the drawing room, allowing some fresh air in while you enjoy your tea and a slice of pound cake. A breakfast on the sweeter side to lighten your recent mood. You drop a sugar cube into your tea, swishing a small spoon around in your cup until it dissolves.
There’s a bundle of letters from back home. Absolutely one from your mother, asking if you’re with child. And if not now, then when. It’s always snuck in there— you puff your cheeks out in what feels like defeat, ready to ask your maid to fetch your quill as you undo the twine binding them all together. 
However before you can open your mouth, you hear Simon. You’ve gotten used to how the floorboards creak here and there under his steps, yet your heart still jumps. Lord Riley isn’t necessarily a morning person, or sociable with anyone in the early hours. His voice is grumbly, “Good morning, my lady.” 
“Good morning, my lord.” You don’t look up from the letter in your hand. 
A few moments pass. He pours himself some tea, paces around the room a bit ungracefully, and then finally sits across from you in the opposite chair— “Are you feelin’ alright?” 
Your eyebrows furrow, yet you finally grace him with your gaze. “What makes you ask, my lord?” 
“Well,” he pauses, “you’ve been quiet as of late.” 
You simper, “You’d rather have me gabber on to you over nothing all day?” 
Simon laughs, although he appears to be struggling. He’s never been a conversationalist and that has been apparent from day one, but there’s a difference between his inherent awkwardness and the way you make him awfully nervous. If he had to explain, the way he finds himself undeserving of having a living angel from the Heavens under the same roof as him, let alone sleeping in the same bed every night.
While he seems to be lost in his own head, you take in the state of him— the bags under his eyes from being up far past midnight, scars on his chest peeking out due to the undone buttons of his blouse. You’re aware that you're staring, but you’re married after all. And your fingers twitch, eager to glide through his somewhat disheveled hair and provide any kind of comfort he’d allow you to. 
He’s handsome. More delectable than he knows. If you two were an actual love match you’re sure you’d be properly smitten. Swooning left and right knowing such a man is yours alone to share the kind of honeyed kisses and naughty whispers you read about with. You snap out of it quickly, refusing to upset yourself. 
“Not quite,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. You’d forgotten you asked him something in the first place. You’ve nearly forgotten how to breathe at this point, too. He continues on as he gets up from his seat “Wait for me tonight.” 
He takes a step closer, and you’re not expecting him to place a large hand on either armrest of your chair, leaning over you with warmth in his amber irises. You naturally shy away, being unfamiliar with this kind of attention from anyone… not to mention him. You clear your throat and shuffle in your seat upon realizing how warm you feel all of the sudden. 
“You mean,” you begin at the risk of sounding daft, “In our chambers, correct?”
He jests, “Unless you’ve other plans.” 
“No,” You breathe out, “I’ll wait for you, Simon.” 
His eyes widen at your use of his name. Not a title but his given name, something that’s meant to be spoken by you only but rarely comes out. Your husband nods once, bidding you a good day as if you won’t spend the rest of your time twiddling your thumbs and waiting for nightfall. 
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Looking back on it, the earlier months of your marriage were bleak. 
Simon insisted on sleeping in different rooms. You only saw him for your shared meals and balls you were obligated to attend. You had no choice but to nod along and listen to him. To smile and pretend when other ladies and wives attempted to pull details about your love life out of you. No matter how deep they tried to dig, it was futile. 
You were alright with this arrangement at first, despite how hard you cried some days. 
It’s only that the nights got colder and darker, so much so that you found yourself tiptoeing to his room one night. Kicking yourself for failing to keep your facade together. There were tears pooling at your lashes as you hesitantly knocked on the aged wood making up his door. And while half asleep, Simon took you in when you least expected him to. You don’t know that in the moment, it dawned on him that he can’t deny such a sweet girl like you a single thing, but you do know something changed. 
That’s all you can think of as you smooth your hands down your nightgown. 
You eye yourself in the mirror while the silence in the room takes over. You relieved your maids of their duties only moments ago, realizing you couldn’t keep them there all night and awaiting Simon with you. You wish you had any kind of company now. Someone simply sitting in the corner while you fidget about would be enough.
Until you hear the door open. Your ears perk up; you consider nose diving onto the bed and pretending to be asleep before Simon fully enters the room. Yet you hold yourself up with pride and the little energy you have left, looking over your shoulder as he saunters in. 
“I know our union hasn’t been… satisfactory, given the circumstances,” his voice shakes despite how sturdy and resolute he is day in and day out, “I know there are certain things I cannot give you at the moment. However, I—” 
You whip around. Unable to hear him prattle on about things you’re already aware of. If this is what he had you waiting for, you would have much rather forced yourself to go to sleep at this hour. 
“My lord, this is unnecessary.” You’re blunter than he ever could have expected you to be, “I was raised to be a good wife no matter what the circumstances may be, and an even better mother whether I’m blessed with children or not. There’s no use for your theatrics unless they’re leading us somewhere.” 
“My theatrics?” Simon scoffs, now carrying his usual strong conviction. He wraps a large hand around your wrist, but there’s nothing threatening about his grip while he tugs you closer to him, refusing to let you petulantly stomp away. “I believe you’re confused, darling. I don’t waste my breath babblin’ words that aren’t sincere.” 
For the second time today, his body is close to your own. But never close enough to give you what you need. 
“Right, although what you’ve been missing all these months is… I want you to show me instead of telling, Simon.” You whisper, your pleading eyes meeting his own, “Show me that we can both be satisfied in our marriage… please.” 
Simon wraps an arm around you in an instant. Your chest is pressed to his, and his size compared to your own forces you to feel helpless in a new way entirely. He builds up the courage to kiss you. It’s nothing like the chaste pecks he places on your forehead in the morning. His hot mouth presses against yours until your lips part with a gasp and he’s able to roll his tongue into your mouth. You melt into him, desperately clawing at him for more. 
You whimper his name, puffy breaths escaping you with the rise and fall of your chest. Simon bends down, only to grab you up and lift you. You’re tossed onto your shared bed. The grin that tugs at your lips is cheeky to say the very least and Simon looks gorgeous when he matches your expression, already trying to get your gown out of the way by bunching the cotton up. His lips trail along your jaw, down your neck, along your chest. His nose drags over where your cleavage begins and peeks out, and you tremble beneath him. 
“I’ll show you,” he nearly moans, “I’ll show you what it means to be husband ‘n wife.” 
Simon may not give you a baby tonight… and your marriage may not be as bountiful as the gardens outside or as sweet as the marzipan he keeps in the kitchen for you to snack on right now. But he’s determined to change that. To be a better man— a giving husband and a tender lover, healing you and himself by extension. Starting with worshiping every inch of your soft skin that he's been depriving himself of, and you’re blissfully content with that. 
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OTHER PARTS:
earl price
duke garrick
baron mactavish
©LUXESLORE 2024 — 18+ CONTENT, MDNI ♥︎ copying, modifying or reposting my work is not permitted.
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redtsundere-writes · 1 month
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
AO3/WATTPAD VERSION
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
Order your own fanfic!
Masterlist.
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pucksandpower · 9 months
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I have an idea for the Grid Kiiiiiids. They all try to start teaching their sister to drive a kart 🥹 up to you how old she is when they start lol but you know Max and Charles especially want that girl in a kart ASAP
Grid Kids: Little Racer
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: the grid kids can’t wait to take their sister karting
Series Masterlist
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Lando looks particularly proud as he rubs his hands together. “Alright, we got the best present for her. Trust us, she’s going to love it!”
George nods enthusiastically, “It’s honestly the best thing ever. A bit of an investment for her future, you know?”
Max, trying to hide a grin, chips in, “And it’ll give her a head start in racing.”
You raise an eyebrow suspiciously, “What did you boys do?”
Charles can barely contain his excitement. “Just open the garage and see!”
You slowly make your way to the garage with growing trepidation, the grid kids practically bouncing on their feet behind you. When you open the door, there, in all its glory, sits a shiny new kart, complete with racing stripes and a custom-made helmet with your daughter’s initials.
Your jaw drops. “She’s one! She can barely even walk! What is she going to do with a kart?”
Lance, looking a little defensive, offers up ideas, “Well, she can ... sit in it? Look cute? Take photos for Instagram?”
George chimes in, “It’s never too early to get them started, right? I mean, she’s got the genes for it.”
“Think of it as a ... decorative statement piece for now? Then, in a few years, she can actually use it,” Mick suggests.
You can’t help but chuckle at their over-the-top enthusiasm. “You guys ... she’ll probably be more interested in the cardboard box it came in than the actual kart itself right now.”
Lando pouts, “Well, when you put it like that ...”
You laugh, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift. But we’re going to have to save it for when she’s a bit older.”
Max smirks, “By a bit older, you mean like five, right?”
You shake your head, exasperated by your impressively stubborn sons but always grateful for how much they love their sister. “We’ll see.”
***
Four years later, the sound of shattering glass pierces the quiet night. In an instant, you’re on your feet, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner of your room. Sebastian, equally alarmed, snatches up a table lamp from his nightstand, wielding it like some sort of medieval weapon.
As you both stealthily approach the main room, you hear muffled whispers.
“Why did you have to step on the vase, Max!” George hisses.
“It was dark! And Lando pushed me,” Max retorts defensively.
Lando protests, “Did not!”
You round the corner, brandishing your bat and glaring at the intruders. “What are you doing in here?”
The grid kids freeze like deer caught in headlights, Lando holding a giant Happy 5th Birthday balloon, Charles cradling a shiny new helmet, and Mick holding a small cake with five candles.
Max tries to salvage the situation with a sheepish grin, “Well, you did say she could start karting when she turned five. We just wanted to be the first to take her.”
Lance points to the clock on the wall that now reads 12:03 AM, “Technically, she’s five now.”
You sigh, lowering your bat, a smile slowly forming. “You guys are ridiculous.”
Sebastian chuckles as he puts the lamp down, “At least wait till morning. And next time, maybe use the door? You all have keys for a reason.”
Charles grins brightly, “Where’s the fun in that?”
Lando glances at the broken vase and nudges a shard of ceramic with his toe. “Sorry about that. We’ll get you a new one.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “Just ... go home. We’ll see you at a more reasonable hour.”
Mick winks with a cheeky smile, “How about 7 AM? Sounds reasonable to me.”
You groan, ushering them out. “Go, before I change my mind about the karting!”
As the door closes behind them, you and Sebastian share a laugh. The grid kids never fail to bring some chaos into your lives.
***
The morning sun is just starting to peek through the curtains when you hear the soft hum of engines outside your window. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance at the clock. 6:57 AM. “Seriously?” You mutter under your breath.
The doorbell rings and the soft hum now sounds suspiciously like the familiar excited murmurs of multiple voices.
You throw on a robe and head downstairs, opening the door to find the grid kids, all in their race suits, clustered on your front porch. Behind them, a trailer holds the tiny kart, polished to a shine and adorned with a large bow.
Max declares, “Told you we’d be back!”
Charles holds out a tray of coffee, “We brought reinforcements.”
George steps forward, a picnic basket in hand. “And breakfast! We figured that after all the excitement, you might be hungry.”
Lando bounces like a hyperactive puppy. “So, is she ready? We’ve got the whole day planned out!”
Sebastian, now also at the door in his pajamas, chuckles, “Let the poor girl wake up first.”
Mick is holding a small helmet and gloves. “We’ve got everything she needs.”
“We even have a little race suit for her.” Lance shows off the preschooler-sized suit, complete with the German flag and her name. “We got it customized and everything!”
You can’t help but join in on their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just give us a minute to get her up and ready.”
The grid kids cheer, high-fiving each other.
As you head back inside, Sebastian wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You know, for a group of the most elite drivers in the world, they sure get excited about kiddie karting.”
You smile back, “That’s what makes it all the more special.”
***
You tiptoe into your daughter’s room, finding her sprawled out on the bed among a sea of stuffed animals. Sebastian follows closely behind, his excitement barely contained.
“You do the honors,” you whisper, motioning to the tiny alarm clock on her nightstand.
Sebastian nudges the clock and it lets out a soft rendition of a race car engine revving. Your daughter stirs, her little eyes slowly blinking open.
“Vroom vroom,” she murmurs drowsily, pushing herself up with a yawn.
“Morning, sunshine,” you greet, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Ready for your big day?”
She beams, “Karting day?”
Sebastian chuckles, “That’s right! And you’ve got a whole pit crew waiting for you downstairs.”
Her eyes widen in excitement, “Brothers are here?”
You nod, “Bright and early. They couldn’t wait.”
She practically jumps out of bed, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Downstairs, the grid kids are in a frenzy of activity, making last-minute checks on the kart, packing snacks, and discussing strategies.
“You sure she doesn’t need a quick racing line tutorial?” Lando asks, pointing at some scribbles on a whiteboard.
Max rolls his eyes, “She’s five, mate.”
“Exactly. The perfect age to start,” Lando retorts.
Your daughter giggles as Charles lifts her onto his shoulders, “Look at you, future world champ!”
George hands her a small helmet, “Safety first!”
She tries it on and it slips down half of her head.
“Maybe we’ll adjust that,” Mick chuckles, helping to resize the straps.
Once everything is packed and ready, the convoy sets off for the track. Your daughter, sandwiched between Lando and George, is treated to a hilariously exaggerated commentary of their drive.
“Watch that apex! Oh no, a dramatic overtake by that ... minivan?” Lando narrates, making your daughter giggle uncontrollably.
At the track, the grid kids swarm around, setting up the kart, unloading equipment, and securing the area.
Lance kneels in front of your daughter. “Now, remember, it’s all about having fun, okay? But also ... don’t crash.”
She giggles, “Okay, Lancey.”
Charles takes her hand, leading her to the kart. “Ready to hop in?”
She nods eagerly, and with a little help, she’s seated and ready.
With the helmet securely in place and the engine purring softly, she looks up at you and Sebastian with big, excited eyes.
“Remember, slow and steady,” you call out, giving her a thumbs-up.
She revs the engine, and under the watchful eyes of her brothers, begins to kart for the first time.
As she makes her way around the track, the grid kids cheer raucously and even get a bit teary-eyed. The sight of the little kart zooming around, driven by your fearless daughter, is a memory none of you will forget.
When she finally finishes her laps and the engine dies down, the grid kids rush over, lifting her into the air in celebration.
Lando, panting from excitement as if he were the one driving, declares, “Best. Day. Ever!”
Your daughter is grinning from ear to ear. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”
Sebastian pulls you close as you watch your children make plans to kart together soon. “Looks like we’ve got another racer in the family.”
Your heart melts when you see the look of pure joy on your daughter’s face as she’s surrounded by her brothers. “Formula 1 better watch out.”
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