#read them all to FILTH... where is her award | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neonovember · 9 months

Note

Oh. My. God. Oh my god but imagine though, waking up around 8 or 9 or so on a day off where both you and Carmy have the day free. It’s a big deal maybe because oh my god Carmen’s in bed at 9 in the morning *affectionate sarcasm* holy moly Carmen settle down!

But just waking up with him, the sun coming through the window through the thin curtains with a little breeze, looking over and watching Carmy’s face form into the softest, most precious smile, his eyelashes fanning his cheeks as he slowly comes to and lets out a little sigh “Morning” his voice is all husky from sleep and lack of use. You smile back with that sweet giddiness and relaxation in filling your body as you softly whisper good morning back to him. Watching him shift as he sits up to lean over and place a long, soft and slow and tender kiss over your lips, still with that little smile on his lips (I am about to exPLODE-)*CRYING!!!!!!*

okay okay, i know i wrote a drabble similar to this idea here, and for some reason my mind fell back to the night before..y'all, imagine the night that resulted in a soft, needy carmen spending the day in bed with you, all sore and a mess of slick and cum-

Midnight Cars

summary: You’re not about to fuck in the car park. So you end up fucking in the car park. Your apartment’s one at least.

a/n: read @nolita-fairytale fic's about fiance!carmen, and god did that get my gears going. Her series is a mf masterpiece! Fiance Carmen is dirtyyy, even for Berzatto himself. There's public sex, I'm talking Carmen is knuckles deep in you swallowing you with praises whilst a few feet away from Auntie Susie, public.

warnings; filth, utter FILTH, this is kind of insane even for me, car sex, public sex, fingering, dry humping, cowgirl (yeehuh!) but carmen's doing all the work, fiance!carmen, wrap it before you tap it lmao, 18+ explicit, feral and a little deranged carmen, possesive! carmen

The tangy burst of vermilion and cherry grasps your tongue as you tilt the rounded bowl of your drinking glass towards your lips, gliding your tongue to catch any wayward drops of the wine being poured by waiters dressed down in black and white.

Your eyes don’t leave the dirty blond tresses that had long broken from their gelled back form through the night's progression sitting atop Carmen’s head. You can’t help the giggle you let out from your position against the bar, watching him join in a very drunk, but surprisingly harmonised rendition of “Ain't No Mountain High Enough" By Marvin Gates.

His tie sits undone around his neck, and his face is sort of flushed from the extended night, his cheeks a tinty rose and his lips turned red from his repetitive swipes of his tongue across them nervously.

All inhibitions are gone now, and you're able to indulge in the site of a carefree Carmen, left unaware of the never ending responsibilities he carried by the honey haze of a night just for him and his award winning restaurant.

The low lights of the speakeasy room sets the air into a mellow haze, hints of cocoa and aged bourbon waft through the corners of the room, across half finished plates of food on tailored tables, and the stage where your Carmen had won the very award that now sits dangerously close to the edge of your table.

You knew the James Beard Association was prestigious, but god had they truly left you dumbfounded when you stepped into the low lights of the speakeasy.

You didn't even know places like this still existed.

The speakeasy was tucked in a bricked alley, unassumingly between an Italian and a car park. You wouldn’t have ever guessed it to boast this attraction, with aged vintage black and white photos of late singers who’d sung on that very stage years ago hanging across the walls, polished dark exposed wood and velvet booth seats in corners surrounding round tables, even the parlour looked like it was out of an 80’s bar house. You think if you shut your eyes and reached out you would have touched the sequence dress of Etta Jones.

Carmen didn't get drunk, not often anyways, and even now, after winning the prestige of “Chicago's Up and Coming Restaurant of the Decade”, he waved off every raise of a glass towards him.

Carmen felt a level of unease at even touching a drop of liquor whilst driving you both home, no, every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep you safe at all times, and the taste of bourbon held nothing against the taste of you.

That didn’t stop him from enjoying himself, in fact he felt an unnatural sense of bubbly relaxation fall over him as his gaze fell towards you, sipping on a glass, looking the very bit the picture of gorgeous he’d ever seen.

Carmen had always been horrible at these sorts of things, getting doted on, sucked up to, boasted to. He hated every second of it, but even he can attest to the absolute wonder of a night this has been. He glided you against the dance floor, under the iridescent glass panes of the skylight window, the soft crescent moonlight shining through in a way that bounced against the glitters of low hanging ambient lighting and shimmers of dresses and disco balls.

The dance floor had been packed with family and friends but then? Then, it had felt like the entire world had stood still, it had felt like it was the both of you, infinitely, you in his arms like it was meant to be, forever.

And now you looked across to him, with those eyes, those fucking eyes of yours, comfortable in the vision of your gorgeous man looking at you under hooded lids, his bottom lip sunken into his mouth. The hint of a smirk tucks at the corner, and it takes everything in you not to jump at him then.

You motion with a manicured finger, and his eyes catch yours in a second, despite being in a group of people currently huddled around him, eager faces hanging onto his every word. He leaves them, in the middle of a mountain of questions they prodded at him, towards you, following your every desire, always, until the very end.

“I see congratulations are in order, Chef” You softly reply, when he makes it close enough that you take in the veins trailing up his forearm, left bare from his rolled up sleeves. The vision shoots straight to the heat building in your belly, and you have to press your drink to your lips to stop the bubbly moan from escaping.

Carmen looks down at you from his height, eyes trailing down the cut of your body hugging dress, lingering on your snug hips catching against the silky black fabric.

He wanted to feel them beneath his hands as he took you.

“Oh yeah?” Carmen replies, his voice like silk fluttering across your body. Heady in that way it always is.

“Mhm, but I didn’t get to really say anything since you were busy with the rest of them” You don’t have to gesture for Carmen to know about the huddles of people crowding his every move. Another thing he disliked about these sorts of things, they took him away from you.

“Does my girl feel neglected?”

“No” You draw out. “ I just want to show you how proud I am” You whisper through dark lashes. Carmen trails a tattooed fingers across your jaw, letting glide against the smooth skin until it bumps against your lips. Trailing your bottom lip fervently, his own pulled into his mouth.

“And how are you going to congratulate me hm?”

“That will just ruin the surprise, won’t it?”

Carmen let’s put a chuckle, before leaning into the crook of your neck

“Careful..you know I don’t like it when you keep things from me”

You can’t help the shudder that crawls up your spine at his words, flashes of being bent over his desk, of being pushed onto your knees corrode your mind and you feel the burning ache travel to your core.

Carmen tilts his head, a hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you, eyes glinting in want.

“No? You’re not gonna tell me?” Carmen replies in a low voice, and as he trails his thick digits across the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material.

He trails his thick digits across the bodice of your dress, his hands dipping into the spill of cleavage before trailing it to the sides of your dress, bunching up the silk material. Surely he’s not?

“Mhm” Carmen nods, eyes flickering to you, reading your mind as he takes you in appreciably. His pupils are blown out in lust, the familiar ceruleans dipping into a depth only reserved for you.

You let out a squeal when you feel Carmen’s fingers trail up the slit on your thigh, squeezing the naked flesh before tracing his fingers along the lace trim of your panties. You’re up against the bar, shielded by the low ambient lighting and Carmen’s huge back obscuring every manoeuvre of your body to his every desire.

“Carmen-“ You admonish, eyes darting across the room now filled with happily drunk family and friends dancing or laughing amongst each other.

However your admonishment is light hearted, it trails off into the air when you feel Carmen press against you, then, you don’t really care, you miss him too goddamn much to.

“Been watching you the entire night you know? When you were dancing with your friends, god I wanted to drag you from the floor and just take you in the fucking coat closet” Carmen muses, his lips brushing against the pulse point behind your ear. Your drink long forgotten on the bar counter, your hands now gripping his shoulders as you bite back a moan.

“Yeah, just thinking about wrapping these thighs around me and letting that pussy grip me for hours”

“You’d take it all, right honey? You’ll be my good girl?” Carmen grunts out softly

All you can let out is a half hearted nod, your eyes falling dangerously closed as Carmen prods and sucks against every sliver of skin he can get ahold of.

His deft thumb drags along the fabric of your undergarments, cupping your mound as you let out a sharp exhale, making approving noises as the slick that has begun to already begun to drench your panties.

“Already wet for me Darling?” Carm replies, the hint of mirth surrounding his voice doesn’t allude you, and if you didn’t want to keep chasing that sweet friction of Carmens thumb against your heat you would have shoved him.

“Please Carm” You exhale with a sharp breath, trying to grind your hips onto the palm of his hand. He strokes you softly, featherlight touches that barely feel like anything.

And this man, this goddamn man, laughs. A roll of a chuckle rolls through his body and you want to scream at the denial of the pleasures he's keeping from you, before his deep baritone voice replies.

“All you had to say was please”

His rough fingers sink into your heat, it’s silky, and rough and hits you like liquor, straight to the building pressure. He drags your slick through your folds, arching his fingers ever so slightly when he bumps up against your clit. Never fully putting any pressure on that precipice of pleasure you want to dive head first into.

Dipping a thick tattooed digit into your tight hole, Carmen lets out a groan at the way you grip him so tightly, masking your pitched moan at the feeling of him circling his thumb against your bundle of nerves and stretching you out with his thick digits.

Carmen is practically holding you up, his large bicep wrapped tightly around your waist as you sink your teeth into his shoulder, letting the skin absorb the litter of stuttered mewls you let out at the swipes of his thumb against your clit.

The coil begins to tighten, and you can faintly hear Carmen softly whisper sweet nothings, proclamations, declarations, praises. They fall from his mouth like honey and push you further up the cliff.

“I know sweet girl, taking it so well, just keep taking it, let me make you feel good, yeah?”

A second finger joins the first, dragging your sopping slick up your folds, before dipping into your tight hole. Rough fingers massage up against your walls that grip him so tightly, Carmen knows your body inside and out, and it doesn't take long for him to find the soft spongy patch of skin deep within you, curling a third finger up into that spot, roughly thrusting into relentlessly.

Carmen watches the way your pussy swallows his thick tattooed fingers, thrusting them out slicker and wetter each time, the image has his jaw and slacks tightening and it takes everything in him not to sink his entire length into against the bar counter, fuck whoever else.

Your hips buckle beneath him, and he grips you harder into his chest, his mouth presses bruising kisses along your neck, jaw, clavicle. Your heated moans fail to reside in you as you begin to cant your hips into his hands, rubbing your clit rapidly on the flat side of his palm. The coil tightens within you, and you roll your eyes back, letting out a bubbling of half syllabus, your brain a mush from the saccharine pleasure curling your toes.

“M’ fucking you dumb baby? You getting off so good on my fingers you can’t speak?” Carmen groans out, he can’t stop himself from canting his hips forward, his erection bumping into your stomach.

The feeling of him pressed and thrusting against you, outlined by his suit pants is a vision that breaks you entirely, and you can’t even blink before you feel the band snap, the delicious white hot burn spreading through you like a wildfire.

“Carmen..s-..gonna” You manage to let out with a breath, and Carmen knows already, of course he does. He’s knuckles deep in you now, and his relentless rutting is inescapable, you can fucking feel him in your bones, down to your goddamn marrow. He continues his rapid thrusts into you, refusing to relent, pushing you further, and further through the waves of your unending.

Your head lulls back, but Carmen catches it with his arm, his mouth slatted over yours as you fail to keep in the loud yell of his name from your lips.

Carmen swallows your stuttered mewls, your swears, your please, he swallows it all and keeps it for himself. His tongue darting across the inside of your mouth, swiping along the roof of your mouth, across your front teeth.

His fingers continue to thrust into you, helping you ride through the burst of colours and stars that light your vision beneath your lids. You're pushed up against his hard chest, and it takes some time for your limp body to come back to life, your head a daze of pleasure.

“S’fucken good girl”

Carmen mutters so softly, almost to himself, his fingers are still cupping your heart, whisper grazes of his thumb against your drenched folds.

as he fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile.

Through hooded lids, you see a man approach you both, interrupting the heated gaze Carmen imprints down to your very bones. Carmen slinks his hand back, discreetly popping those deft digits into his mouth with a low groan, before wiping them on his suit pants. He carefully fixes your dress, smoothing the wrinkles formed, flickering his eyes to yours in a sweet smile as if he hadn’t just fucked you up into his knuckles, and goddamn tasted you.

The scene causes a shudder to roll down your back, reigniting the heat deep inside you once again, you never thought you could be this depraved, this-, but the way he sinks into you so perfectly has you nodding to every desire he has. He was a goddamn drug.

Your body is still recovering from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you feel Carmen's heated gaze on you as you try and coherently respond to the stubby man who’d interrupted you both. The man rambles on, clearly oblivious to your state, too focused on the sound of his own voice. You nod along to his words, something about a farmers market or an Indian restaurant that had opened, but you're jittering in your heels and you can barely stand, opting to lean against the bar counter.

You look towards Carmen, to find him staring at you, amusement lighting his cerulean blues as he takes in your insatiability. Hell, it took him god near everything to not fling the man to the other side of the room so that he could probably taste you.

Remind him again why he agreed to this?

It gets to maybe the second inception of an animated story before Carmen is bidding the man goodbye with a shake of a hand, and all you can do is swallow the desire that no doubt has you salivating by the second. God if Carmen had made you wait even one more minute you would have tugged on his shirt like some petulant child.

“Took you long enough” You murmur, when Carmen eases out into the speakeasy car park with a hand against the small of your back.

A soft laugh escapes Carmen, scratching at his jaw as he shakes his head.

“If I didn’t already know, I would think you're the one that hates these things” Carmen murmurs with a teasing smile, as you make your way to the sleek black car that camouflages against the midnight.

You make a sound that sounds close to a snort, “Not when it keeps me from jumping my fiances bones” Your engagement ring seems to glisten at those words, and you don't miss the way Carmen’s eyes flash with a look of hunger, adoration, glee, even possession all mixed in one.

You’d been his since the moment he laid eyes on you, that was a given. Putting a ring on your finger just gave him something to latch onto, a mark that told the world you were finally his.

It anchored him, it made him feel good. It eased the anxieties that would flood his mind, washing them away like a current every time he kissed that damn princess cut.

Carmen wasn’t exactly all that sentimental, but with you? God did he mutter till death do us part like it was tattooed onto his tongue. And even then, when he’s a zombified version of his human self, traveling the underworld soullessly he’d find you.

Oh were you Carmen’s, but wasn’t he yours too?

“Language sweetheart, you make me sound like a piece of meat” Carmen murmurs teasingly shuffling so that he’s leaning over your body pressed into the passenger seat door.

“Language? Your talking about modesty after you just-” Your cut off by Carmen's rough finger pressed against your lips

“Would be careful about what you're going to say next sweetheart” Carmen raps in a low voice, tracing his finger against your bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed as if the motion of his fingers brushed up against you was of utmost importance.

You gulp back the words you wanted to say, Carmen's blown out eyes flicker from yours to your lips, and you lift your head towards him. Carmen catches you with a hand wrapped around your jaw, pushing you further against him as he crashes his lips sweet against your own. Swiping against your bottom lip, dipping into the heat of your mouth as he groans against the taste of you.

“So sweet,” Carmen murmurs into the kiss, before pulling back. Amusement clouds over lust filled eyes at your immediate anger against his denial

“What about my surprise?”

“You can’t really get to enjoy the full experience in a public car park on Michigan Ave” You whisper, suggestivity laces your tone as you feel the heat of embarrassment flood through you. You were not good at this stuff, and yet the sharp sound of Carmen’s soft groan causes you to lift your eyes up to meet him.

“Then what are we doing standing here?” Carmen replies with a growl, it erupts from his chest, and as you stare up at him, you finally take in the wolfish expression on his face. He look’s insatiable, goddamn animalistic as he eyes you carefully, a darkness that prods at his blues.

You let Carmen place you into the passenger seat, the resounding click of the seat belt the only sound in the stretch of silence between you both. A heaviness laces the air in the car as you ride home, a headiness, a lurking desire beneath the illuminating light of the console, and the flashing lights of Chicago sitting against tinted windows.

Carmen spreads his thighs across the drivers seat leisurely, resting a hand on the steering wheel, whilst the other grips your thigh tightly. There's going to be a bruise there tomorrow, and you can't help but preen at the thought of his mark on you hours later.

You count the seconds that tick by as Carmen rolls into the basement garage of your shared apartment, parking silently as he cuts the engine and remains unmoving, except for his hand gripping your thigh which he squeezes periodically.

Carmen cuts his gaze towards you, the wolfish expression that overtakes his features and turns him into a predator tells you all you need to know, but his eyes soften ever so slightly, almost telling you the next move is up to you.

Carmen doesn't need to hear the seat belt unclasping before he's tugging you on his lap with rough skillful hands. His erection pushed against the softness of your belly as groan out in blissed relief, Carmen can’t help himself, grinding his hips up into you frantically.

“Need” Carmen breathes out heavily “Need to feel you, need to be inside of you. Right now, right fucking now” Carmen groans.

There is a fumble of clothes being ripped and thrown into the backseat, and Carmen shifts the driver's seat to lean back a little. The position is unforgiving, your back is pressed against the wheel, and the space is too small, but strangely, it’s a tight proximity you crave, too long have you gone without the ecstasy of Carmen’s skin against yours.

You settle your thighs on either side of him, his deft fingers drawing soft circles across your hips, his pressing fervent kisses along your jaw causing you to fall into the crook of his neck.

“Please, sweetheart, let me feel you, let me see you, shh, it’s alright, let me feel you” Carmen hums into the heat of your skin, tasting your sweat with the flat of his tongue as he grips your hips gently.

You lift them, and with Carmen's help, you finally, after what felt like centuries, sink onto Carmen's length, the sobbing slick drenching your folds causing him to slip in easily, eliciting a breathless groan from him as he feels the heat of you wrap around you.

You can hardly breath, all you can feel, all you can taste and see is him, the delicious stretch that comes with the first sink into you is glorious, its fucking ineffable. The entirety of his length sinks into you to the hilt, and you feel every vein and ridge of him graze against your tight walls as you let out a strained whimper into Carmen's shoulder.

“ ‘S Fucking velvet, pussy grip’s like a goddamn vice every time sweetheart” Carmen praises, pressing kisses to your skin, his eyes shut as if he was memorising the feel of you, savouring it in his mind like it was the last time.

Carmen always gave you a few moments to get comfortable around his thickness, but there was a neediness in the way he held you, like you would turn to dust if he let go, and the restraint he held earlier falls apart as makes that first thrust up into you without warning.

You cry out as the blanket of pleasure courses through you, your heart is in your throat, you can barely breath, and you throw your head back cause god don’t you want more.

You press your nails into his shoulder as you try to lift your hips, eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of pleasure that fills you with every inch of him that glides against your walls, your clit, your slick. You’re a mess, and Carmen tugs at your hips, sick of waiting, and thrusting into you mercilessly, maintaining an unforgiving pace as you quake above him.

“Take me so goddamn well, huh sugar? Doesn't my wife take my cock so well?’ Carmen grunts, his eyes watching the way his length sinks into you and leaves glistening with your slick. The sight nearly tears him into his undoing, nearly causing him to spurt into you, if only he had a damn polaroid.

Your head brushes against the roof of the car as Carmen pistons into you, his hands gripping your hips as he slams you onto his length, rutting into you as the velvet of your walls cling to him. It was like goddam silk wrapped around his length, the gooey slick of your arousal coating his every ridge, dripping down onto his balls and between the space where he’d thrust into you.

A litter of profanities fall from his mouth with every stuttered thrust of his hips, its uncontrolled, and Carmen shows no restraint, no signs of stopping as he chases the wet softness only you have, the decadent caramel, your natural addicting scent, the car fucking stinks of you, and it takes everything in Carmen not to rip you off him and drink from you like a fountain elixir.

His tip brushes against your cervix, thrusting impossibly deeper with every move of his hips, he changes his position, and it causes his length to brush up against that spot that causes stars to burst in your vision. You practically arch your back against him, lifting your hips up when you feel the white hot pleasure that drips down your back, exploding your senses.

“No no no, fucking take it” Carmen snarks, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you down deeper, further onto his length, till your filled to the brim, your slick gushing out of you.

A shudder rolls through you and the sound of Carmen's low voice, dipping into something untapped, something animalistic and merciless, something that would pull every drop of pleasure from you until you were a sobbing mess.

You roll your hips against his length, a shaking, stuttering mess of gurgling words and cries as you grind your clit against Carmen's length, whilst the girth of his thrust into the spongy spot within you that leaves you heaving.

The familiar burn of a coil tightens within you, and as Carmen presses a thumb against the swollen bundle of nerves, circling it softly. The contrast of his soft feather touches against your clit paired with his unforgiving pace thrusting into causes you to keen, arching your back against him as Carmen murmur below you fervently, like he's chanting something, worshipping every curve of your body.

“Open your eyes pretty girl” Carmen murmurs, the soft voice of his voice comes back, the rough demeanour falling away like dust as he takes in the signs of your closeness.

“Please Carmen” You beg, you don't know what for, but it seems like everything from the pleading lilt of your voice. Give me everything Carmen, your love, your pleasure, your skin and bones.

“I know Baby, I know, let me see you yeah? Let me see those pretty eyes” Carmen prods gently

You squeeze your eyes open and the vision that finds you almost snaps the coil tightening deep within your gut, bellowing with heat and pleasure that sizzles below your skin like electricity.

Carmen lies beneath you, his cheeks red with heat and blushing desire, his eyebrows are furrowed, and below them, below them lie cerulean blues that glaze over in a daze, hooded lids with curls lashes that brush against cheekbones. It’s like he's in a trance, his pupils blown out in lust and something else as they watch the bounce of your chest against him each time you shealth yourself onto his thick, hard length.

White teeth pressed into reddened lips watch you eagerly, imprinting you into his mind forever, he wanted you like this always, taking every inch, screaming nothing but his name.

“Fucking gorgeous”

The lilt of his voice, grown husky and low from pleasure breaks something in you, and you aren’t able to warn him, before you arch your back impossibly, driving yourself roughly onto his hips as you get the wave of pleasure wash over you. Colours of vermilion, blue, of the wine you had drunk and Carmen's cologne burst under your lids, on your tongue, everywhere. Carmen groans loudly below you, thrusts growing sloppy as he ruts into you desperately, chasing his own release brought on by your own unending.

Carmen barely controls the thrust of his hips into you, releasing spurts of thick cum, coating your walls endlessly. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, making you take everything he gives you, forcing you into the whirlwind of ecstasy and base desire you can’t escape from.

You both temporarily forgot about where you both are in that instance, the pleasure from the both of you transports you somewhere boneless, and for a second you feel your heart stop, the wave of pleasure that crashes over you as Carmen continues rutting into you, lengthening the wave as long as possible until you feel it swallow you both whole.

It’s somewhere between a few minutes to a few hours when you resurface, you don't know, your mind is a mess of sound and colour and the ecstatic aftershock of pleasure that still runs through you. You're nestled into Carmen’s chest, the scent of your coupling thick in the air, your thighs and the leather seat are covered with your combined slick.

The only sound between you both is your heavy breathing, you still nestled up to the hilt of Carmen, and when you slightly shift your hips Carmen shoots out a hand to stop you.

“Easy there sweetheart” Carmen replies in tight constraint, over stimulation washing over you both as the buzz of pleasure still hasn't quite dissipated.

“S-sorry” You reply, breathlessly, lifting your head tiredly to catch the soft gaze of Carmen watching you. His hands glide across your naked frame, pressing soft circles, shushing and smoothing out every shudder and shake of your legs. Carmen doesn't tell you the thought of you visibly shaking from him and he only causes his length to stiffen and his mind to reel.

“So..where’s my present?” Carmen’s teasing voice re-emerges, his eyes crinkling as you swipe at him playfully.

“You’re still in me, dick” You reply with a roll of your eyes, falling back against the hardness of his chest

“Mhm, and I didn’t even get to taste you” Carmen murmurs, tracing his fingers along the curve of your waist, cupping your ass as you shudder from his words. There was a finality in it, and you don’t know if you’ll make it to the elevator before he fulfills that very desire.

The obscenity of it, you love it, only Carmen could make you this depraved. And god do you thank him for it.

Taglist 🏷 (send an ask to be apart of my taglist for carmen)

@kpopgirlbtssvt @rooster-bradshaws

882 notes · View notes

saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

paradoxical

im nayeon x 10th member!reader ; smut

synopsis: it’s hard to get a read on nayeon, especially when she’s all over you.

wc: 4.1k

warnings: smut!!! ; somnophilia ; praising ; crying ; choking ; edging ; whipped reader ; nayeon is a brat ; just filth hehe ^_^ ; cursing ; might not be proofread

a/n: starting off the new year with a bang! this anon request was too good to pass up on and i hope you all enjoy some top nayeon content!!!!!

—

nayeon was really someone who was made to be in the limelight.

she was easily suited for this ever changing, fast-paced stardom of being a part of one of the most influential groups that constantly raise the bar in music charts, award show ratings, and overall popularity.

nayeon was known for many things; her magnificent vocal power, flawless dancing, striking visuals, and the personality with other celebs that really gave her the title of “nation’s bestie” and you were glad that you had someone like her a part of the group in the first place.

but behind closed doors and away from the cameras, she was anything but that.

in the years that you’ve grown to know nayeon since debuting, you learn that she is a brat. she was loud and always complaining. she couldn’t do any basic living needs for her life because somehow she would find a way to mess up even the simplest of tasks in a shocking fashion. she needed to be constantly babied because of how easily scared she could get at times when you shared your dorm with her.

she was also known for getting brazenly vulgar with the other members. when some practices ended sour, she’d take it out on jihyo and jeongyeon, complaining to them on what the others needed to improve on. she wanted to be seen as perfect–no mistakes from her but for everyone else if something was out of line, she would be on your ass to make sure to get the routine right.

not only was she vulgar, she could be physical too. always getting touchy with the members especially when intoxicated. there was a point in time where she had to be tied down to a chair because her and sana couldn’t keep their hands and faces away from each other, putting their lips all over their bodies until you and a few other members got uncomfortable.

you wanted to feel uneasy when she acts like this when the group doesn’t have any scheduled activities going on–-but you were actually attracted to nayeon because of how she is.

you moved in with nayeon at the apartment for a little over two years now and even though some days were better than living in hell that is her, you started to grow a desire for the version of drunk nayeon being all over sana. the image of her straddling sana on the chair, putting sana’s hands behind her back, letting nayeon do all the work with her large, veiny hands holding her head in place as she leaves marks on her neck. the other members cheering or jeering for her dare as she almost got carried away towards the end.

you needed her to be like this for you, but it was definitely difficult on how you were going to pull it off.

—

you and the girls had embarked on a few tours locally already, but this was the second ever world tour that you guys ever did as a group and this time, more locations were added to give a little additional opportunities for the fans who saved up enough just to see you.

it was a blast at first, but then the repetitive routine of touring began to take a toll on the group as a whole. getting to the country, go to the hotel, sleep, wake up, head to the venue, rehearse, go back to the hotel, downtime, get something to eat, sleep again, wake up again, concert preparation, concert, relax back at the hotel and sleep. it was organized, efficient, but it started to be too much at a certain point during the tour.

luckily the label managed you and the others well by pairing you with another member to sleep with. that way it was to ensure a better overall state to keep the members in top condition both physically and emotionally.

you got paired with nayeon as your roommate, which definitely made the setup more easier once well into the tour, all you had to do was something to get her going.

unfortunately, you didn’t know that she wanted you all to herself ruined–and you were completely caught off guard by her desires.

—

the tour stop was paris, and you were trying to fight off the last effects of jet lag with the extra sleep you took advantage of. everything was going soundly in your slumber as you occupied one side of the bed.

nayeon however woke up to use the bathroom before making her way back to the bed at the sight of you peacefully sleeping away. laying belly down with the blanket just covering your lower half of the body, your well toned back in full display under your perfect wavy hair.

she shifts herself back onto the bed as you flip yourself over unknowingly, unveiling your boobs to her as you shift your head back into the pillow still clearly knocked out.

nayeon laid on her side as she grazes her fingers across your chiseled abs, before tracing the lower part of your jawline as she kept her eyes locked on your face that was still covered by your hair, lips parted perfectly as she circled your boobs.

eventually her finger trailed more and more downward, pulling the blanket from your lower half slightly to get more easy access, she eventually started feeling through your panties letting the fabric rub against your flesh as she went in circles for a few minutes.

then she started to get impatient. her intrusive thoughts were getting the best of her as she moved your panties to the side, running her two fingers across your folds yet again as you stifled a moan, still stirred in your sleep as nayeon slipped a finger inside you, finally releasing a gasp of air at the sensation as you slightly arched your back from the feeling.

she couldn’t just stop there as she continued to pump her finger inside you as you finally came around, looking at nayeon as she kept her pace going, biting her lip as you let out a more audible moan at her.

your senses come about as you flutter your eyes open still drowsy, trying to look down at what was happening down there, in shock as you moaned again in nayeon’s ear to get her to notice.

“nay, what the fu-”

she covered your mouth with her left hand as she continued to thrash you with her hands. something about her long fingers that almost mimicked your vibrator back at home—but this was nayeon’s hand you’re feeling and it was way different.

your moans were becoming strangled as you gripped her forearm with both of your hands, trying to pry off her hand against your mouth, but nayeon had a firm strength that may not looked like it, but her hands covered half of your face as she tried to keep your moans from being picked up by the neighboring hotel guests.

“nayeon, p-please, fuck so good…”

you were getting close by the downright fucking nayeon was giving you as you were able to pull her hand away for a second before she put her hand over your mouth again. she needed you to be like this for her and you were sinking deeper into the mattress by the second. it was near bliss as you felt the release in your body almost imminently—until nayeon’s phone rings, stopping her completely as she slips her three fingers out of you.

“hi jihyo! i just woke up, you’re ready to get breakfast?”

your eyes roll back to their normal position as you pick your head up to see nayeon off the bed, putting her shoes on before looking back at your sloppy state.

“what about y/n? oh she’s still sleeping she won’t be joining us i’m afraid.”

you couldn’t utter a response as she smiled at you laid barren on the bed, facing away from her as she smiled at her work as she headed out the door of your room.

you got taken advantage of by nayeon, but you wanted more of her and it was going to drive you crazy.

—

the mirrors of the makeup vanity reflected your distasteful expression, annoyed as if the you in the mirror was mocking you for what happened earlier this morning.

it was going to be a long day, but there was a concert to be performed so until then you tried your best to keep your sexual thoughts with nayeon at bay.

what made it even worse was the fact that you haven’t seen nayeon at all up until the performance. you didn’t see her backstage or in the green room—she was simply nowhere to be found. the only times you’ve seen her was on the way to the venue, during soundcheck, and during the concert. what she did before that after this morning was all but a mystery to you.

the concert went smoothly as expected. given the amount of extensive training and rehearsal prior you’ve become exceptionally good at putting on a facade for the fans. the songs and dance routines were more than just second nature and muscle memory as you and the girls performed flawlessly yet again. it wasn’t until the encore portion of the concert where hell started to break through again with her.

you were just minding your business waving off the fans as the song continued to play out, only to notice that nayeon had creeped up behind you draping her arm over you as you looked at her perfected fake smile. the fans wanted some service and nayeon was well known to give something to spoil them on twitter later—grinding on your side as you played along running your hand down your body making the fans go absolutely feral as nayeon dropped down, caressing your ass as she made her way back up.

you couldn’t say anything to her with all the loud noise so all you could do was hang your mouth open as she walked to the other side of the stage where jihyo and sana were, flaunting her ass at you as you looked back at the fans of what just happened.

—

once the concert was well done and over with, it was customary to throw a livestream for about an hour and a half before heading back to the hotel for more downtime before sleeping. while that was happening however, nayeon was leading you to a secluded spot outside the common area where everyone was located, still confused as to where she was taking you.

“nayeon, i still want to talk about a few things, so i hope this better be that.”

once the door closed to let darkness envelop the whole room, it was swift motion as nayeon’s lips found yours. pressing you against the door as you try to fight her aggressive dominance which makes you groan into her face. your brain is getting hazy again—just like this morning as her hands weave their way under your concert attire, moaning out loud once nayeon’s lips nipped at your neck suddenly.

before you could let your desires take control, you had one last bit of rationality as you pushed nayeon away for a second, feeling her half-lidded eyes stare at you as you two have a moment to collect your breath.

“fuck nayeon, i don’t get you sometimes.”

nayeon tilts her head, hand still pressed against the door next to your face, inching closer to you as you try to look away.

“what isn’t that you don’t get?”

“you do one thing, and you say another. your actions are so contradictive and it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“that should be the least of your problems y/n.”

you couldn’t help but scoff at nayeon’s last sentence there as the lights flicker on in the room that you two were in.

“we’re not done with this by the way, i hope you know that.”

there we go, you lit the tinderbox.

she walks out of the door back into the more lively room as you stand in the open, your cunt pulsating at what nayeon was going to do to you once you two got back to the hotel room.

maybe this was it–you finally set her off and now you were going to face the consequences.

—

when you and her eventually make it back to the hotel room, it was nothing like you were expecting. it was just a standard nighttime regimen as you tried to prepare yourself for nayeon by resisting the urge to sleep.

you lose that battle quite quickly than you’d hoped.

in the later hours of the night, you were sound asleep whilst nayeon looked over from her side of the bed. she was thinking about how good she was fucking you dumb before ignoring you for almost the entire day. she almost felt bad about doing it, but in that brief moment of clarity in the darkness, she needed to satisfy her needs yet again.

in a few quick moments, she straddles you, getting rid of the heat building within her as she took her top off before slowly running her hands up your waist to your breasts.

you barely nudged however, nayeon did like the fact that you slept like a log at times.

nayeon needed to double down her efforts in riling you up as she started to run her breath across your face and neck—before planting her lips on your pulse point that made you jolt slightly at the contact. nayeon pulls away for a second, her common sense telling her that there was a better way to handle this, but she ultimately shakes her head before diving back to your neck again.

luckily, you make it easier for nayeon to get access as you perk your head up, giving more space for nayeon to leave marks as she lathers her tongue and lips all over your sensitive point—making you moan a little bit more loudly in the process.

she then lays over you for a second while fondling your breasts, “you should be awake for this, too bad you might miss out.” nayeon says as she begins to make her way down your body, leaving kisses toward your sensitive area as you shift your back upward again, arching at the contact of her hands and lips.

pulling away the covers, she notices that you were weaning panties to sleep again, noticing a small spot that was stained right in the middle of your sensitive area as she couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“what is it with you having wet dreams recently huh? looking all pretty for me just to ruin you.”

nayeon ran her hands up your midsection again, this time letting her nails dig into your skin as you slightly trembled at the feeling of her hands while she kissed the inner thigh of your leg—leaving another string of marks.

she then slides your panties down from your legs, taken aback as you reflexively spread your legs out wide open for her. nayeon was losing all sensibility as she inched ever so closer to your presenting arousal.

“opening your legs out wide even in your sleep baby? something tells me that you needed me to treat you well like this morning when you couldn’t say it earlier.”

nayeon runs her thumb over your folds as a string of slick could be seen when she swipes upward, looking at the palm of her hand as she feels your wetness internalizes on her fingertips.

“you want my fingers inside of you again? i’ll give you more than my fingers baby, all you have to do is just ask me next time.”

she was having a full on conversation with herself saying the most vile things, but she’d do it all over again anyway.

nayeon then runs her two fingers across your folds again, before slowly inserting them inside—earning a small grunt from you as you move a bit, still asleep as she continues to insert and draw back her fingers inside you.

“i love how my fingers just vanish inside your pussy.. you wanted me to fuck you like this while sleeping. god, it’s pathetic of you y/n.”

nayeon shifts herself back up next to you like this morning as she continues to relentlessly pummel your entrance as you put your arm over your face, almost trying to deny the pleasure that’s happening to you right now.

“still not enough to get you awake baby?” nayeon asks you as she pumps her hand inside you continuously, before slowing her pace a bit as you were still asleep at this point.

“maybe this will convince you to wake up.”

that was the only thing you heard as you started to gain consciousness.

nayeon’s movement in the dark was still swift, but she managed to mess up by slipping her hand and leg off the bed accidentally before gripping on your leg to stop her from falling.

she eventually pulls the cover off of you, uncovering your exposed region as nayeon nestles herself between your legs, face hovering over your pussy as she lifts your legs over your shoulders before giving your leaking core light kisses to tease you.

you feel the light touch of her lips on your entrance as you jolted at the contact, bucking your hips upward as your eyes shot open instantly.

before you could say anything, nayeon latches her lips and the surge of overwhelming pleasure clouds your mind as you groan out again, nayeon biting your clit to make you squeal out loud enough for the guests next door to hear.

“n-nayeon…”

“aww you’re finally awake? well good, cuz i’m cleaning up the mess you made right now.”

her hand reaches for your breast as she latches her left arm over your stomach, bracing you to the bed as she continues to wreck your swollen pussy with her mouth.

your grip on the sheets was hard enough to rip them to shreds as she went down on you as she pulls away for a second, your hips shaking as she strips away the super nice feeling of her tongue on your pussy.

“y-you’re such a bitch n-nay-”

“i hope this isn’t already too much for you because of how much your legs are shaking, you’re not ready for what i’m about to do next are ya?”

you tried to sit up in an attempt to defy nayeon’s rule over you, feeling her big hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back down as she grabs your neck, suffocating you slightly as you gasp for air.

“i know you like this y/n, your body is telling me otherwise.”

“i–i ngh-”

you tried your best to come up with a response as you tried to get her hand off your neck so that you could breathe a bit more. that only made nayeon choke you harder as you gasped for air in short, strained breaths.

“such a mess for me, fuck y/n i was really holding myself back for you all day because of this morning.”

nayeon loosens her grip on your neck as she runs her nails down your side as you tried to squirm away from her dominant presence. there was simply nowhere to run or hide, nayeon finally had you right where she wanted—a wreck and you liked it.

“are you ready for another go?”

nayeon stopped for a second to wait for your approval, the last sign of any saving grace or indication that you were genuinely uneasy with what she was doing.

it didn’t feel right for nayeon to act like this, but considering that every member has had their fruity moments already as it is from time to time, this was another echelon of an idea that was never toyed with—until tonight.

so without a second thought running through your mind, your heart was throbbing through your chest as you gave nayeon a simple signal of approval.

you nod.

you could feel nayeon’s smile in the bleak light that was breaking through the hotel window as she pounced forward at you on the bed, crashing her lips with yours as she forced your hands over your head, assuring that she still had absolute control over you.

she pulls away kissing your jaw as you felt the heat more warmly across your body, only for her to lean over your ear once again to whisper something.

“we’re gonna be at this all night, so you better be prepared, my pretty girl.”

you whimper as she repositions herself in the same state she was before you woke up as she dove back into your pussy once again with her mouth—this time not letting up in her pace whatsoever as you grab the back of her head to let her tongue get deeper into your walls.

she was aching with hunger, the only thing that you could do was prolong this new feeling of this version of nayeon for as long as you could as you shift your hips in every direction possible to get the most out of nayeon’s nose and tongue over your seeping entrance.

nayeon then ups the ante when she pulls away for a second, placing one of her arms over your stomach as she grabs a pillow to elevate your hips off of the mattress. you were still breathless as she slid the pillow under your lower back and got another pillow to stack on top of that.

you would think that nayeon would give you a quick breather of a break, but that automatically went away as she thrusts her tongue back into your pussy, this time adding three fingers in you as you yelp at the new feeling, lifting yourself off of the pillows only for nayeon to shove you back down, growling at your attempted action.

“you better not nudge baby, i still need to finish my meal.”

the only thing that you could respond with was a simple nod, biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out another moan as nayeon continued to pound you endlessly. it’s so new, your body is taking in new information, and your mind is getting clouded by nayeon’s fingers.

“fuck fuck f-fuck nay, w–wait—oh my god hngh-”

“don’t ask me to stop now, you’re taking me so well with your pussy being this loose for me hm?”

you moaned uncontrollably at this point from nayeon’s words, your mind was all but pure mush.

“please, s-so close ‘wanna cum-”

nayeon pulls her fingers out of you as she gives your pussy one longing lick, leaving you shuddering as she lapped you up like a popsicle.

“you ready?”

“please nay, i can take it.”

you couldn’t think straight, nayeon could only nod at your impresive resilience as she puts back in one finger inside you.

then another.

then her third finger.

and finally her fourth finger.

you writhe in the new sensation as she pumps all four fingers inside you back and forth, curling the first joints of each finger as you couldn’t recover for not even a second.

the intensity is built up as she picks up her pace yet again thrusting her hand, lips latching onto your clit as she keeps herself steady for the next few minutes or so.

you don’t know how long it’s been, you kept tossing and turning at nayeon not giving you any inkling to breathe as she held you down. scratching up your midsection as she bombarded your spent pussy with her spread fingers and swirling tongue ravishing you—your movements slowly subsiding as you felt the buildup in your stomach increasing.

“nayeon please– ‘m gonna please please please—”

you pleaded to cum for her at this point—eventually doing so as she let’s your lower body shake out of control, hand gripping your breast again and pinching your nipple as you uttered a literal cry as you tried your best to control your breathing (you couldn’t) as nayeon pulls away giving your cunt one more kiss before trailing upwards back to your face.

tears were literally seeping out as you calmed down, the urge of sleepiness coming back to you after being edged god knows how many times and nayeon was more proud of herself at you as she laid beside you. it was clearly shown that you were spent, but you were able to tap nayeon’s leg to get her attention before passing out in the end.

“thank you…”

“you did so well for me baby, i would do more but i think this is enough for now.” she says to you, raking your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, kissing your cheek as she caressed your boobs and abs again for a few more minutes before pulling the tossed cover from the bed over you and her, cuddling away.

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #im nayeon #twice nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice smut #nayeon smut

575 notes · View notes

mochiroreo · 9 months

Text

Oh goodie! Prologue [breaking in]

Summary: being a latchkey child, you are used to being alone. So when your parents announced that your whole family is moving to Hawkins, you paid them no mind and just packed up your bags. What you are not expecting was that the house that your family just bought comes with two neighbours that are in dire need to have you in any way.

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns. [mentions of god in this chapter] DUBCON. NONCON. 100% FILTH. Smut. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it). Hidden relationships. Age gap. Cream pie. Size kink. Degradation. Corruption. Choking/slapping (in a pleasurable way). Pet names (no use of y/n). Fingering. Squirting. Overstimulation. Public sex. Recording. Dark!Steve Harrington & Dark!Eddie Munson

Author’s note: thank you for your support on the teaser! I did not expect that

૮ ◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა this is my first time writing and posting my fics publicly so I hope you like them! This part does not contain much but I will still post it for the sake of world building for this fic 💞

P.s. not beta’d. So.. there might be grammar mistakes..

Thank you to @kayaedits and @kitsunecafe for the dividers!

“It wouldn’t be that bad,sweetheart. I swear. Me and your dad promises that the house is really pretty! Plus,you get the spacious room that you have always dreamed off!”

Your mom tried to pacify you,telling you all the things you will like about the new house that they bought at Hawkins, Indiana. A place you did not know even exists when they mentioned that they were planning to sell the house where you currently live and move to the said place. Eyes a bit puffy and red while your lips tremble and jutted out in a pout. Hugging your soft stuffed teddy bear,you were feeling overwhelmed. With their decision already made, you cannot help but look around your room.

The soft pinks and pastel blues are adorning every corner, the trinkets that you collected along the way throughout high school were neatly piled and arranged. The medals, awards, trophies, and books that are lined up on the shelves that pretty sure had indents on them for how long the pile has been there. She looks at you with pity,before sighing and pulling you in a hug. They know that you’re not crying because of how you’ll miss you best friend. Or how you’ll miss the town. No, they know you don’t really care much about those.

You hate big changes. Knowing how shy and timid you are, you always prefer staying home or discovering new spots where you can just relax and let your mind drift away while reading a book or jotting down notes on things you find interesting. And your parents know that. Being painfully aware of the times their jobs affected your upbringing,they try to make it up to you every single time. With you being on their minds when they bought the house,they chose the biggest that they can find which is full of greenery in a quiet neighbourhood.

“But.. its—“ you tried to reason out your frustration,tears slowly filling up your eyes again. “I know honey,I know. I’m so sorry. Me and your father just wants what’s best for you,you do know that.. right? Its not just for work but we can just see that house as our permanent house. No more moving after this.” Your mum apologised in a gentle manner, still patient while hugging you and rubbing your back. You just groaned under her hug,sniffling as you continue to bury yourself on your mom’s arms. “Besides, there are public and private colleges around. You can also get a summer job there too while you are still deciding on what to study. I’ve heard that there’s a book shop and a record store near our house,too. Maybe they’re hiring? Oh,we even have lovely neighbours! Too nice,actually! Me and your dad happened to meet them while we were inspecting the house..” you listened to your mum telling you all about the new place, fiddling with your fingers while it slowly sinks on you that you really don’t have any choice. “Its a really beautiful place,honey. I promise. We promise.” Your mum ended softly, giving you a forehead kiss.

“And—“ your dad’s voice popped the bubble you and your mum had,slightly jumping at his voice. “Maybe you can find a decent boyfriend out there. You know, better than— what was his name again? Frank?” He asked,his nose scrunched in disgust. You laughed at how he tried to remember you ex’s name. Giving your mum a tight hug before standing up to give the same to your dad as well,you answered him while copying his expression. “Yes,dad. Frank. What an ugly name,huh?” Your whole family giggled,slandering your ex while talking about what you and your mum should cook for dinner, the anxiety slowly easing in the background.

“Hey mom, where do you want these?!” You shouted after your mother who is already carrying a box of kitchen utensils with a laugh out of excitement.

After a grueling 6 hour car ride, the first thing you did was immediately jump out of your family car and stretch your limbs. The air was sticky and humid,feeling the spring season already ending. You definitely did not expect the temperature on the way here despite it still being early morning. With the heat making your shirt stick to your skin,you slumped your shoulders,already tired at the thought of moving. Putting your sunglasses up your head, you made your way to the car’s boot, quickly grabbing some of your boxes that you won’t clumsily drop.

Hawkins is definitely an eye catcher. Sure, a small town. But there is something mysterious about it that you cannot help but be curious about the said town. You like how snug and tight the community is. People smiling at your parents here and there, striking up a conversation with them too. It eases your nerves that it looks like your parents chose the right place to settle after all. It looks like you will be spending the upcoming summer exploring the never-ending variety of stores your whole family drove by.

The day ended when the last piece of furniture is inside and assembled. “I’m dead..” you muttered under your breath when you plopped face-down on your bed. The house is beautiful— Pretty is not even enough to describe it. The outside definitely shows the history and age of the place. Vintage,painted with neutral colors, while hints of greens,moss, and crawling plants adorn the vast spaces near the windows. It is definitely different from the two houses on both sides of your house. Your mind is already racing on how you are going to decorate your bedroom, already allocating the empty corner for some massive book shelves and a shrine of trinkets and random journals that you collect for fun. You just finished taking a much needed bath,giggling to the comforters when you became too excited on buying new stuff for your bedroom, not noticing your mom’s footsteps as she make her way upstairs.

Your mom stood in front of you,a big smile on her face. Your giggling stopped when you noticed her presence— and how she is holding two pies that are meticulously packed with a bow on top of each boxes. God knows when she had the chance to bake a pie amidst the chaos of never-ending boxes and assembling furnitures together. You went quiet,noticing how your energy is not matching hers as you press your lips in a line while hoping whatever she plans on asking you for is not the one that you are currently thinking. “Sweetheart can you give—“ she started sickeningly sweet before you immediately answered “no. Nope. No,no,no. Goodnight!” You tried to evade her favor, quickly hiding under you fluffy blanket and closing your eyes. Your mom,expecting the behaviour, had quickly put down the pies on top of your study desk and snatched the blanket from your body. “You will!” She exclaimed before laughing loudly as you fight her back for your blanket. “No! Why am I always the one handing it to the neighbours?! I’m always the sone doing it!” You whined,already losing from your so called “battle” against your mother. “Because! Me and your dad are still busy!” She tried to reason out when you know she’s just planning to make you go out and hopefully make new friends or just meet new people. Your mom tugged a bit too hard that made you sit down. You continued whining and whinging,knowing that you already lost and you have no other choice.

You changed from your tank top and sleeping shorts to a cropped cream sweater and a plain pink skirt before brushing your hair and swiping some cherry lip gloss on your lips to at least make yourself looks presentable. With a last look to the mirror,you have put on your glasses and sneakers,before turning around to your mom. You find your mom holding the boxes once again with a cheshire-like grin before handing it to you. “Yeah,you trickster” you mumbled and your mom knows that you are only joking as her loud laughter and giggles together with yours echoed throughout the house.

The air cooled down quite a bit when you stepped out of your house,the gate creaking as you try to push it close using your foot. Trying to ease your nerves, you looked around and drank in your surroundings. How the cul-de-sac is surrounded by trees that makes the place a bit eerie but also dreamy when the sun had set today. How the clouds are soft and plush,orange and yellows slowly disappearing while the moon and the stars slowly peek out. Slowing your steps as much as you can, you focused on the feeling of the gravel underneath your feet and just avoiding the dread of meeting new people. On your way,were slowly starting to hate the whole thing and how you wish the houses are far more apart.

Finally,you made it towards your neighbours gate,seeing that its slightly ajar which made you hesitate before deciding that you just want it to be over with and stepped inside. “Screw it” you say to yourself while walking towards a black stained oak door. Trying to balance the other pie on top of another to fix your glasses from being crooked and your hair from being destroyed slightly because of the wind, you lifted one of your fist and is already thinking of how to escape the social interaction if they end up being too talkative.

“Well fuck that.” You heard a deep,husky voice as he talk to someone that you cannot hear clearly. You dropped your fist beside you,anxiety slowly creeping in while your mind runs hundred miles per minute if you should just come back later than to interrupt their conversation. “They keep on trying to sell their god to me for how many fucking years already!” The man clearly exclaimed before another man let out a roaring laugh. “If god is fucking real he will present me or you with someone that can fucking blow my balls off and suck my dick so deep that I will be convulsing at the end of the night and he— whoever the fuck he is— will tell me how its his gift for me,like— someone fucking made for me and you—“

It was the last thing you heard before the huge wooden door opened,the man’s rambling abruptly stopped and two of the most breathtaking men entered your view. One with long,curly hair that looks like it’ll be soft under your fingertips. While the other one has thick,luscious hair that is not as long as the other but is styled to perfection.

“Hi..?” with your face red as a beet,that was the only word you can whisper.

299 notes · View notes

chargeeboltz · 2 years

Text

smokers area - bakugo x reader

(kinktober entry one - semi public sex)

wc : 1.7k

18+ mdni, contains absolute filth tyvm contains: bakugo possessiveness, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, fucking raw, creampies I suppose (bakugo cums inside), degrading, humiliation if u squint?!

it takes a while for bakugo to catch on to what you’re doing, but once he does he feels a familiar burn in his chest. if there’s anything you’ve learned from dating your bonfire of a boyfriend, it’s that he loves the chase. the chase where he has to work for it, the one that drives him crazy. you’ve been setting this up for a little while now, cooking for him in shorts that leaves the globes of your ass exposed, pairing it with the tiniest shirt in your closet. your excuse for the entire situation had been the heroes award show, hosted every year to go over their achievements thus far. an incredibly important event to bakugo, tonight will be his chance to shine, and you’re giving him all the opportunities you need to for him to get ready and finally be on time for something. throughout your cooking, he hadn’t moved from his chair - his eyes had tracked your every movement while you swayed about the kitchen, movements entirely too sensual for your boyfriend to ignore. he rises from the chair with a soft grunt, but before he can even take one step, you whirled around and told him to “relax! I can handle cooking us dinner!” with that irresistible smile of yours. stage two is in action now, stood around the bar with some of your closest friends after one of the most prestigious hero events you all know.

kirishima is encouraging your boyfriend to drink ungodly amounts of alcohol, goading the UA heroes into many drinking games, each more rowdy than the previous. after events such as these, the old students of UA used it as a chance to catch up, to spend some much needed time unwinding with old friends, people who understand the line of work you’re in. even precious deku has had too much to drink, his cheeks redder than anyone had ever seen them during their UA years. despite the loud guffaws, the conversations everyone is having, you know bakugo has his eyes on you for the majority of the night. you stand, talking away to ochako, ashido, yaoyorozu, anyone who catches your attention at the same time bakugo tries to. of course, your friends are far too drunk to realise this, and you’re a little tipsy yourself, uncomfortably aware of the heat in your cheeks and the way your tongue struggles to wrap around some words. bakugo however, has realised this entirely and is getting more riled up by the second, the familiar scent of caramel making its way through your senses as he struggles to contain his frustration.

after you finish talking to an overly eager kaminari about his new hero gear - which works perfectly if you had to admit it - you feel bakugo’s presence before you see him. kaminari’s eyes leave your face, and he grins up at the figure behind you, eyes lighting up at the realisation that he has someone else to drunkenly ramble about his gear to. before he can even slur a word out from between his lips, bakugo cuts him off with a harsh grunt. “having quality time with my girlfriend, fuck off.”

denki coos at him, but with one glance between the two of you, he reads the situation like a book and chokes out a laugh. “by quality time you mean you’re about to eyefuck her in front of all your old classmates, right?” he taunts, watching bakugo’s reaction with glee on his face. you laugh, bright and bubbly, and it’s like all his anger melts before your eyes. bakugo has never been able to resist your charm, and even when he’s mad at you, your laugh could ease the deepest of his miseries.

“oh come on denki! we’re not like that!” you defend, but your face is warm from the implications, the alcohol bringing thoughts to your mind about your boyfriend taking you in front of some of the world’s best pro heroes. denki just laughs, loud and relaxed, before shaking his head and walking off, shouting something about leaving you guys to it. you don’t have any time to worry about what he says, because bakugo is lacing calloused fingers between your own and leading you out into the smokers. his cologne invades your senses, only adding to the slowly flickering flames of lust pooling in your belly. you’d be stupid to think he hasn’t realised - he saw your face when denki made those comments and he figured out there and then that he had hit the nail right on the head.

“you gonna continue to brush me off for everyone else?” bakugo accuses, crimson eyes burning into your own as you stare up at him, jaw slack and eyes wide.

“was never brushing you off, pretty,” you defend, trying to goad him with the pet names slipping off your tongue like liquid honey. his jaw clenches for a second, but he seems to relax, grip loosening on your hand as he leans down to your ear, hair tickling your face.

“nah, you were just fantasising about me bending you over that table in front of ‘em all, hm?”

you gasp, and bakugo’s face splits into a devilish grin, eyes narrowing and teeth bared. “oh sugar, ya really thought i couldn’t tell? ya think i’m stupid, hm?”

any attempt you make to deny it gets cut off - as soon as you part your lips bakugo surges forward and catches you in a deep kiss, claiming your mouth with fiery passion. whatever words you had conjured as an excuse are gone from your mind as soon as he touches you, replaced with a fire burning so bright you’re half tempted to drop to your knees and beg him to take you here and now. his hand slips under the hem of your dress, hiking it up slightly and rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin there. you feel the cool breeze on your exposed ass, and whine in protest, but bakugo makes no effort to rectify it, instead tugging it up further.

when he pulls away, you gasp for breath as he chuckles, dark. “thought you wanted to be fucked in public?” he taunts, squeezing your ass to punctuate his words. you couldn’t deny it if you wanted to, letting out a desperate whimper as he rubs his fingers over your underwear. “you’re soaked for me, you really want this that bad?”

“please, kats, need you,” you gasp out, and the stupid plan flies out of the window as he groans, grabbing your hair and forcing your back to bend for him. he instructs you to put your hands on the wall, and you don’t consider disobeying, using the wall to support you. bakugo hisses as he unbuckles his belt, tugging you back by your hair to lathe kisses over your neck, muttering about how you better keep fucking quiet, don’t want deku to see you getting fucked stupid.

you can do nothing but nod dumbly, rocking back against him and whimpering. “fuck a condom, wan’ you to fill me up,” your voice breaks on the words, desperate in a way you’ve never been before. his sharp intake of air behind you makes you whimper louder, before he groans and pushes you up against the wall, filling you in one thrust. it forces a gasp out of you - he’s so big you feel like you’ve had the breath kicked out of you, and it doesn’t take long for you to go lightheaded from pleasure. bakugo chuckles behind you, starting to fuck you without holding back in any way, letting out all his previous frustrations on you.

“ya go an’ ignore me for shitty fucking denki, but in the end ya come runnin’ back for my cock, hm?” he growls, voice low and husky in your ear. “keep fuckin’ quiet, princess, can you do that for me?”

you nod frantically, muffling your desperate moans in your arm as he fucks you senseless, stretching you out in a way that makes you see stars, hitting the spots that make your legs turn to jelly, and your eyes roll back. he moans low, catching your hair in his hand and tugging you back towards him, fucking impossibly deeper. “you ever fuckin’ taunt me like that again and i swear, i’ll make you scream my name for all those shitty extras to see, show off how well you take my cock, how much i fuckin’ own you, yeah?”

his words go straight to your cunt, and he hisses as he feels your walls clench around him, hips stuttering as he fights off the urge to cum there and then. “you close?” he chokes out, biting down at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. when you nod, he chuckles, his hand devoid ring a harsh slap to your ass that echoes through the smokers area. your face heats up further, your legs beginning to shake as you fight off your orgasm.

“please- fuck, please,” you hiss, begging to no avail. bakugo laughs behind you and leans over you just that bit more, filling you to the brim. “nah, you haven’t quite earned that yet, have you?” he hums, unfazed by your begging. “‘m gonna fill you with my cum, make you walk around with me drippin’ out of you, n if you can manage that without anyone guessing what it is, then you can cum when i fuck you stupid at home, sound good?” he grunts, fucking you harder to accentuate his point.

you cry out and nod, vision blurring with tears - he isn’t giving you a second to calm down and you’re going wild. the familiar scent of caramel fills your nose, and his hands on your hips burn for a second before he moans deep in your ear, burying himself to the hilt and filling you to the brim with his cum. he pulls out slowly, grunting a little as he helps you up, redresses you and kisses your temple.

“atta good girl, promise I’ll let you cum later no matter what happens,” he reassures, his face soft as he looks at your own, mouth slack and eyes glossy from how well he fucked you.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha hcs #bnha hcs #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #bakugo x reader smut #chargeeboltz #dude first fic lets go?

1K notes · View notes

literary-illuminati · 6 months

Text

Book Review 61 – Helpmeet by Naben Ruthnum

Okay first book of the year that’s surplus to reading list requirements. I put a hold on this because it got shortlisted by the World Fantasy Awards and then, well, totally forgot about it such that when my hold finally came in I had no idea what the book was or where I’d heard of it. Going in totally blind like this was, I think, the best possible choice – spending thirty pages thinking it was some kind of literary period piece definitely improved the gothic horror twist.

The novella is set in 1900 and follows Louise Wilk as she prepares to take her husband, a surgeon, away from Manhattan to his family cottage in the country before he dies of a gruesome and mysterious wasting illness contracted during one of his many affairs (and just ahead of the bank repossessing their house). Over the course of the preparations and travel the history of their relationship and of the disease’s progression are teased and hinted at, and it becomes clear that the disease isn’t anything so simple as syphilis – that really its less a disease and more an incubation.

The atmosphere and presentation feel very pure Gothic horror to me – and very well-done, too. Everything from the descriptions and atmosphere to the repressed and evasive relationships to Louis’ total ostraiza tion from her husband’s social scene even before he began to rot to the whole plot centring around sexual immorality leaving the Man Of Science literally rotting from within and helpless to cure himself no matter how much he scrapes and cuts away.

Of course, the ending turns all of that entirely on its head. The eldritch entity that births itself from Wilks’ rotting corpse is actually quite a sympathetic sort, and sorry to have put the pair of them through such trials. It offers to reunite them – or just unite for the first time, really. Pushing Louis into the husk of her husband’s body like an ill-fitting suit and suturing them together in a way that revives his consciousness around hers as both body and mind begin to synthesize into a single whole. With their help, the entity takes the woman who summoned and sought to enslave it as a host instead, and rides off into the sunset to leave them to make a happy new life in the cottage and the orchard around it. In the end, it’s really quite a sweet love story.

The book is beautifully written, and by that I mean it is grotesque and horrifying in the best possible way. The oblique descriptions of the doctor’s rotting body – how Louis walked in on him shaving away the last rotting flesh of his noise over boiling water, the difficulties of finding whole veins to inject morphine into, the way the gauze over his face turns red and yellow in turns so soon after its replaced – fill something like a third of the books wordcount, and even beyond that rot and decay and filth are everpresent themes.

Speaking of themes, really I can’t judge this at all objectively – the whole presentation of casting aside or stepping beyond conventional humanity as something painful and horrifying but still fundamentally transcendent is one I dearly love, and the book hit it very well. Incredibly happy to have read tis strange little book.

#book review #horror #helpmeet #Naben Ruthnum

31 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 1 year

Note

dove career anon back again! do you have any sfw hcs for dove and austin? like the first time they met each other's families or visited each other's hometowns? any pets they may have (for some reason dove strikes me as a cat person)? just general light goofiness between them

no idea what we're talking about? see the little dove series masterlist for slightly more info, note it's not safe for minors at all. and note i'll eventually get out the next chapters.

you mean how austin charms the hell out of her mother despite knowing that "ah yes this is the idiot who broke my baby girl". and how dove tells austin's dad he's got a villain mustache and it's somehow still cute? dove career anon, i definitely have these.

consider. consider that any actual proper visits happen post cannes smashed in between elvis press tour dates or in the tiny sliver of time austin had pre dune and bikeriders filming. dove has to make her own tweaks to her schedule but it's not as massive as mr. go go go. after all, she gets her oscar nom but she's against some heavy hitters, when warner bros and baz and austin and everyone talk about the award press junket she kind of just says whatever happens happens.

for arguments sake she ties with stephanie hsu because i do whatever the hell i want in this. and i want austin to say that stupid line i envisioned him saying drunk.

the funny thing is though, austin's been in new york city before and she's been anaheim before but never being shown around by someone who calls or called those places home.

consider! he shows her his old elementary, she does the same. he drags her to all the places his mom would take him and she walks him to the theater stages she grew up with. her stomping ground of wanting to be in theater and acting since she was small. his stomping ground of wanting to be an actor once sports failed and he realized that it's weirdly the shy ones who do great work on film.

her trip to disneyland is one where they both keep getting stopped and the pictures except for the pap ones stay confined to small twitter circles and maybe tumblr. no annoying articles about him taking his baby of a girlfriend to disney.

she doesn't know who is more thankful about it, him or her.

when she meets his dad she can't help but blurt out about his facial hair and austin in that moment makes sure he grows it out for bikeriders because of it. just to see her reaction to his own.

his dad laughs and reminds austin that he's got to keep you because she fits right in. dove rides the high of that praise for weeks after. same thing goes for when she meets his sister and gets called her favorite one.

"of course she's your favorite, you don't have another." "shut up daddy, let her speak." "she's the only one i've called my sister, austin."

if it happens before the press tour is over that was supposed to be a hint. if it happens after, she's just being honest and truthful because dove is the only girlfriend he's ever married.

as for when austin meets dove's mom? and to a lesser extent her managers/agents who act like her dad? austin is scared shitless.

it's understandable though because all three of them read that boy for filth and threaten bodily harm if she ever come home or come to them as sad as she was after australia. he swears on his life she won't ever be like that and after that, well he gets dragged to The Diner she enjoys going to with her mom and her managers. and it's a sweet lunch/dinner.

also they have the elvis cat. who was the first pet they ever get even though austin wanted a dog first.

the two dogs come post getting their own house together and during austin's and dove's month break after the oscars to just breathe.

well one of them does. it's a little golden retriever that if they're not around to take care of she goes to stay with austin's dad. her name is jolene.

the second dog only happens post their first baby and that one is a female husky named jenna.

#austin butler x priscilla actress reader #little dove series #dove series #you read your lines so cleverly and never missed a cue #( dare i add the tag. )#austin butler #austin butler x reader #( oops my hand slipped? )#ally writes #spoilers: this is queued.

40 notes · View notes

pixelmensupremacy · 1 year

Note

Hi Mai!!! Loved your Christmas fic and wanted to request: how about a Christmas party and Leon just can’t take his eyes off reader? <3

A/N: Cilantro, dear, it was fun writing this! I made this steamy for no reason, oh well...

Summary: The request

Word count: 0.7k

WARNINGS: fem!reader, 18+, frottage, public sex, just filth, not proof read

Chatter and soft Christmas music chanted across the space. Flamboyant garlands were hung low on the ceiling, standing just a mere inches above the guest, who were dressed just as colorfully. Mistletoes were littered in multiple lonely corners, hidden from the attention of the crowd, that gave a perfect opportunity for a needed retreat. And that’s exactly where Leon’s eyes were focused at, more specifically at (Y/N).

No pretentious Christmas decoration could even compare to the beauty (Y/N) embodied at that very moment. Even the tall tree- covered in colorful flickering lights, that towered above anyone, passing by it- was dimmed by her beauty. Her presence alone was enough light up the entire building; her smile shone brighter than any Christmas lights, crimson velvet hugged every curve of her body, yet it was her magical voice that drew Leon in, casting a spell upon him.

Entranced by her, his legs lead him towards her and before he knew it, he found himself a victim of her trap- one he was more than glad to be enslaved in.

“Good evening, Kennedy. It’s a pleasure seeing your face.” The rolled off her tongue akin to the sweetest honey he was tempted to taste.

“I’m not used to seeing you in formal setting. If I’m being honest, I prefer when you are all hot and sweaty.” Leon teased before he took a sip of his whiskey ably hiding the smirk that curled the corners of his lips. (Y/N) let out a genuine giggle.

“Well, you better get used to my new look. Plus, you haven’t seen the best part of the look.” She winked as she made her way to an open terrace.

Enthusiastically, he followed after her, not caring even the slightest if he bumped into anyone; his icy irises were fixed on her and they followed her keenly. She leaned on the ledge with her hand tugging at the material of her dress, teasingly revealing just the skin of her thigh that was covered in a gorgeous black lace. The smile on her face never faded as Leon approached her; his figure was shadowy, the bright lights inside outlined his form. His eyes sparkled under the delicate, yet cold moonlight, with enigmatic vigor that brought a feeling of excitement.

Immediately, her fingers tangled in his golden hair, as if they belonged there; eagerly, his lips crashed against hers, his tongue brushed against the corner of her mouth all the while his hand groped her ass. She gasped, involuntarily giving him access; he chuckled against her as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting the sweet liquor she was sipping at just a few moments ago.

Leon groaned in delight as his hips rutted against her clothed pussy, awarding him the gift of sweet friction that tingled all of his senses better than anything else ever could. (Y/N) let out a strangled moan, her hands grabbed a firm hold of his shoulders in attempt to ground herself, but the sensation was far too intoxicating for her to even want to sober up. His wandering lips found the spot on her neck that had her loose her sanity, kissing and sucking at it until his name was all that could roll down her plump lips.

“Leon..” Her voice was shaky, the grip of her fingers tightened as the coil in her tummy was about to unravel.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. I want to hear you scream my name, let them know how good I make you feel.” He encouraged; his fingers found their way between her legs, where his thumb rested stop her clit and began rubbing in consistent circular motion. It wasn’t long before her legs were softened and trembling as the delight of her orgasm washed over her. She let out a loud moan without caring who might hear it. Resting her head atop his shoulder, she tried to catch her breath all the while Leon whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

“I didn’t get the chance to show you the highlight of my outfit.” (Y/N) pouted in a joking manner once her heartbeat calmed down.

“We have the whole night ahead of us, sweetheart.” He reassured and planted a delicate kiss atop her forehead.

“What the hell is going on over there?” A familiar voice interrupted the moment.

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #requests

89 notes · View notes

m39 · 3 months

Text

Doom WADs’ Roulette Bonus Round: UTNT's Fury of Fire

Welcome back to the world of pretentiousness known as Ultimate Torment and Torture. Today we will be taking a look at the separate episode of this WAD titled…

B15: Fury of Fire

Main author(s): Daniel Gimmer (Tormentor667)

Release date: September 9th, 2007 (original release)

Version(s) played: 1.07

Required port compatibility: GZDoom

Levels: 1

Not enough of the weird Tormentor667 stench that he puts in his WADs? Don’t worry, you can play another episode that is (technically) not connected to the main part of the WAD. And yes, it does have moments of unintentional cringe and laughter, including the cutscene; you know, like the rest of the WAD. Now with stopping alien-looking creatures from leaving hell or something.

Now, like with the previous, bonus review, do me a favor and read the original one on this WAD before reading this review.

Are you done? Good! Let’s take a look at the final piece of UTNT.

Like the rest of UTNT, Fury of Fire looks great. The demonic cave with outposts coupled with the more grassy tops, while looking kind of boring in the first half (without counting the secret areas), still looks at least good in my eyes.

The music is… I don’t actually know. Just when I started hearing Matrix music again, after what I experienced with the fourth episode, I thought NOPE! I CAN’T TAKE THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY! and just turned it all off. Like I said in my original review, the Matrix soundtrack might fit great when it comes to the movies themselves and some laugh-inducing media that doesn’t take itself seriously, but it all falls down when your work takes itself as seriously as possible and sniffs its own farts in return.

I probably skipped some really good bangers in the process, but can you really blame me?

This map isn’t really complicated, it’s just really annoying in some places. Particularly the demonic cave section, where there are many instances of backtracking from one far place to another just to press the switch or grab a key.

There are two optional sections in this map. One references Wolfenstein, and the other references the original E1M1. I’ll get to them more later when I’ll be talking about the difficulty of this map.

Speaking of which... Fury of Fire is at least as tough as the rest of UTNT. It might be the hardest map to play due to the Wolfenstein section, which sucks; it’s full of hitscanner enemies that fire the moment even one, tiny pixel comes out of the cover; sometimes I feel like the enemies could deal a shit ton of damage while surviving so many bullets/pellets that you will run out of them before reaching the teleporter back to the main section of the map.

The other optional section isn’t that bad; it’s just a mirrored E1M1 with much tougher enemies that aren’t as annoying as the previous one (at least almost all of them) and with different textures.

There are some additional enemies that weren’t in the other episodes. There is Snake Imp (a tougher variant), Zombie Marine (even worse than Hoovy; no wind up), Railgunner which shoots orange projectiles rather than red ones, and the final boss which is Duke Nukem’s Alien Queen and her Protector Drones (or how they are called, I can’t remember). Of course, there are Wolfenstein enemies in their dedicated section.

And... that’s basically all I have to say about Fury of Fire. It’s just more UTNT in all of its glory and cringe. It kind of fits as an epilogue, not gonna lie.

And that’s all for the bonus WADs of 2007. In the next week I’ll be finally tackling the 2008 roster of Cacowards, starting with, surprise, surprise, a gameplay mod (I’ll have to come out with an award to it because these things are different from conversions (booger sugar... something; I don’t know at this point)).

Anyway, thank you all for reading my filth, and I’ll see you next time.

Bye!

#doom #doom wad #review #doom mod #doom 2007 #2007 #ultimate torment and torture #torment and torture #doom torment and torture #fury of fire #doom fury of fire #doom wads’ roulette #bonus round

0 notes

deadlydelicious · 5 months

Note

book ask time babe! 3, 6, 13, 20 <3

Right, here we go. I'll preface this by saying i've read 24 books this year, but it wasn't nearly as good of a reading year as 2022. I had a lot of meh 3 star reads this year, but still, for your perusal my dear.

if anyone is curious about the book asks, find them here, and feel free to drop your own ask.

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand

Hands down my favorite book of the year, and one of my new favorite books of all time. Its actually prompted me to start looking into reading more horror. This story is told through a series of interviews with a band about the events surrounding the recording of their world famous album decades ago, sort of like Daisy Jones. The hook question here though is 'what happened to the lead singer' as we come to understand that at some point during this whirlwind recording summer while they're all shacking up in this creepy old mansion, the lead singer Julian disappeared from his locked bedroom and was never seen again. Its very short, and I listened to it as a audiobook and they went the extra mile of having different voice actors for each band member which added to the immersion. Highly recommend for those who want a spooky book that won't leave you traumatized.

2. In Memorium by Alice Winn

Possibly the most devastating book i've ever read, this book tackles an MLM romance on the highly realistic backdrop of WW1. The romance between the two leads- childhood friends who went to the same exclusive boarding school- is secondary to the brutality of the trenches and the harrowing emotional and mental toll it takes. You need a strong stomach to read this as Winn pulls no punches describing the filth and gore of trench-warfare. There were numerous times in this book where I was gut-punched by sudden character deaths, or off-hand references to upcoming battles which I knew turned out to be massacres. I recommend it, but know that it is a highly emotional reading experience. It will completely grip you by the heart, and you'll likely need to unwind with a fluffy rom-com after (like i did)

3. Innate Magic by Shannon Fey

This was an odd book, a sort of quirky story set in a 40s/50s world were practicing certain types of artificer magic are part of the economy, but having innate magic is highly illegal. The main character Paul is a bisexual magical tailor with an innate magic blessing/curse on him that makes him instantly likeable, but incapable of committing violence- which is a problem as he is a major shit-stirrer. I'll admit, most of the book feels like its juggling 3 completely separate plots before finally managing to weave them together, but what makes this book so good is how real Paul is as a character, and the relationship between him and his chosen-brother Thomas. Its very pulpy, pretty tropey, and definitely not going to win any awards, but I couldn't help but love it. Massive content warning for the conclusion though, out of nowhere we get an INTENSELY gory scene of someone being skinned alive which honestly turned my stomach to read. Read at your own discretion

4. The Spear Cuts Through Water by Simon Jimenez

The weirdest book I have ever read, this tells the story of two warriors trying to escort the captured moon goddess to safety while her monstrous demigod sons pursue her. I can tell you that's the plot, but it does not encapsulate the expirience of reading this book, which is told to you in the format of a man experiencing this story as a myth from his childhood that he is now watching as a theater production in his dreams. The vibes in this book are unlike anything I have ever read, and I recommend it if only because it made me feel like I was rediscovering the way in which books and stories could be constructed.

5. If We Were Villains by M. L. Rio

This is a bit cheeky because I actually read it late last year, but it has sat in my brain like a lingering smoke since then, far more than some other things I read in 2023. I love a dark academia when its used as a genre, not an aesthetic (more on that in q13), and this book nails that gut clench of desperation, pressure, an hedonistic opportunity that hits in university, and the added layer of it being an arts program made it really hit home for me because you have all these people wringing themselves dry for their art, aware that their best friends are also potentially their professional competition, a mood that I'm very familiar with have graduated from an art school with a similar high intensity environment.

BONUS Picture Book Pick (because I'm me) - The Comet by Joe Todd-Staton - A very sweet story about the struggle for a parent and child to connect in a busy world with some truly gorgeous illustrations from Joe Todd-Stanton

6. Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to?

Godly Heathens by H. E. Edgmon

This only recently released so I've not got my hands on it yet, but it sounds like it has all the ingredients to be one of my favorites- nonbinary main character written by a queer author, Goddess of Death as the villain, the main romance between reincarnated godly lovers who maybe used to be evil? This one is top of my TBR

Lavender House by Lev Ac Rosen

Good old gumshoe detective story where the mystery takes place in a house that acts as a safe haven for queer people in the homophobic 1950's. The second one in the series came to my attention earlier this year, so I had to add book 1 to my TBR

Absynthe by Brendan P. Bellecourt

Everyone knows i'm a sucker for decopunk, and a story set in an alternate history version of the 1920's where Absynthe sometimes has the strange side effect of giving you magic powers leading to a hi-stakes political intrigue plot? Sign me up. I received this one for christmas, and its been patiently waiting on my shelf for a full year.

13. What were your least favorite books of the year?

Catherine House by Elizabeth Thomas- This book made me legitimately angry about how bad it was. A meandering waste of text that claimed to be dark academia, but really it was just using it a university campus as set dressing for a story about...something? It could ever seem to decide if it was about unethical medical experiments on students, cult indoctrination, or (as it turned out in the end) a modern retelling of Bluebeard. either way it just felt like the author was throwing a bunch of wet spaghetti at the wall, hoping something would stick and congeal into a 'dark academia story' without spending a minute thinking through how to get there. Also highly egregious- I've seen literal rocks with more personality and drive than the main character. If i wasn't such a stubborn bastard I would have DNF'd it. Do Not Recommend

20. What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations?

I have to admit I don't tend to keep track of upcoming releases unless its an author or series i'm actively following. I took a long break from reading in my early - mid 20s, so i'm enjoying playing catchup and reading books that I may have missed when they first hit shelves. I will say this year I finally read House in the Cerulean Sea, which I found a bit disappointingly lackluster, but that coming up for next year though I am really looking forward to The Mars House from Natasha Pulley

#book asks #stardustandash

1 note · View note

synmorite · 3 years

Text

Still a Brat

Summary: It’s Sammy’s turn with the brat.

Word Count: 1855

Warnings: 18+ only, language, gagging, light bondage, fingering, voyeurism, sloppy seconds, unprotected p in v, rough sex, talk of wincest, breeding kink, mentions of m/m anal sex, orgasm denial, m/m kissing, hair pulling

A/N: This… did not go the way I expected it to.

A/N2: Thank you so much to @negans-lucille-tblr and @writethelifeyouwant for nominating Brat for the Spnfanfic Pond's Angel awards! 🥰And thanks to @hoboal87 for being a bad influence (though we're both bad influences on each other, I think.😏) And tagging @fandomfic-galore who wants to read this filth of mine.

~~~

Dean had barely pulled out of her before he walked into the bathroom and got into the shower. Claire rolled over onto her back and was still trying to catch her breath when the motel room door opened and Sam entered. A smirk formed as he gazed over Claire, noting the light sheen of sweat covering her skin, the bruises beginning to form on her hips, and his brother’s cum dripping from her abused hole.

“Looks like it’s my turn.” He said as he shut the door.

Claire couldn’t help herself. She needed to be bratty. "I dunno, Sam. Dean fucked me pretty good. Not sure you could do better." She trailed a hand down her body to her folds. Swiping a couple of fingers through the mess that Dean left, she brought them back up to her mouth and licked them clean. Sam raised an eyebrow at her before reaching down and grabbing a piece of cloth from the floor. He walked over to her and shoved her own panties into her mouth. He yanked his belt off and grabbed her wrists in one large hand before wrapping the leather around them and securing the other end to the headboard.

Sam smiled wolfishly at Claire all stretched out and gagged on the bed.

“That’s so much better now. Not quite as bratty when you’re tied down and silent, are you?”

Sam stepped back from the bed and stripped his clothes off. His cock was longer than Dean’s while Dean had more girth. He was also harder than Dean had been when they started, but Sam always got turned on more when he had someone tied up and at his mercy.

He reached forward and dipped his fingers into her hole to gather some of Dean’s cum and her slick. He wiped the mixture onto his cock and then started to pump up and down slowly.

“Now, you can be a good girl, can’t you, baby girl? You remember that good girls don’t cum until I say you can, right?”

Claire nodded.

“And I think that tonight, you should wait until I’m cumming before you cum. You think you can do that for me, baby girl?”

Her eyes widened. He’d never made her hold out so long before.

“I think you can be good for me and hold off.” He reached forward with his free hand and ran it up the smooth pale skin of her leg, still watching her.

She nodded hesitantly and Sam smiled.

“Such a good girl for me.”

Sam climbed up onto the bed and ran his hand down her chest, over her belly until he was cupping her mound. Slowly, he teased his middle finger down between her folds and around her clit. She was still sensitive from when Dean fucked her. She groaned at the feeling, knowing that she was going to have trouble holding off her climax for so long. Sam liked to make her wait to orgasm while Dean liked her to have multiple. He slipped his fingers lower and pushed a couple of them into her tight channel. She whined at the full feeling.

The door to the bathroom opened and steam wafted out as Dean walked out with a towel around his waist. He looked over and saw Sam playing with Claire. He grinned and sat down on the edge of the other bed to watch.

“I see you found the present I left for you.” He said.

Sam quickly grew tired of playing with her and pulled her legs apart before settling in between them. He lined himself up and started to push into her.

“You didn’t open her up enough, Dean.” Sam grunted as he continued pushing his length into Claire’s hole.

“I did, she’s just tight as fuck, Sammy.” Dean replied with a smirk. “Besides, I left plenty of cum in there. That should help ya to slide right in.”

Sam finally bottomed out with an exhale. Claire was breathing deeply through her nose at how deep Sam was inside her.

“She’s almost as tight as you are, Dean.” Sam panted out.

“Doesn’t he feel good, Claire? So big, right? Sammy knows just what to do with that cock of his to leave you squirming.” Dean tugged the towel off as he gripped his cock.

Sam carefully pulled out before thrusting back in sharply. Claire grunted out. It was a bit painful, but both she and Sam knew she could take it.

Sam watched her face before saying, “Maybe I should fuck a baby into you, Claire. Maybe you’d stop being a brat and learn some responsibility then.”

Claire clenched as she let out a whimper around the gag. Sam smirked down at her. “You like that, don’t you? Such a little whore who wants to be fucked full of our cum.” She felt Sam slide in and out easier as she got wetter. Now that Claire was more relaxed, Sam got into a steady rhythm.

Dean was sitting on the edge of the other bed, watching as Sam fucked into Claire with sharp thrusts, the sound of skin slapping and small grunts and moans from them echoing through the otherwise quiet room. His hand squeezed and slid over his own cock as he watched the muscles in Sam’s stomach tense with every thrust. Sam glanced over at Dean and saw him breathing in short pants and his cock weeping precum.

“Didn’t get enough when you fucked her, Dean?”

Dean’s eyes flickered up to Sam’s face before going back to where Sam’s cock was moving in and out of Claire.

“She’s not as good as you are, Sammy.”

Sam barked out a laugh. “Hear that, brat? Dean prefers his brother fucking him over fucking you.”

Claire moaned as thoughts of Sam fucking Dean filled her head.

“Shit, she just got wetter.” Sam breathed. “Maybe we should let you watch sometime, baby girl? Would you like that?”

Claire nodded frantically as she clenched around Sam again and whimpered.

“Course we’d have to tie you down. Can’t have you touching yourself to our little show, could we? Cause that would just be naughty. What type of person gets off on watching two brothers fuck, huh? Sounds like someone who’s a brat to me.”

Claire could feel the coil tighten in her belly even more. She was trying so hard to hold on, but it was a battle she was beginning to think she might lose. Claire knew the brothers fucked, but the chance to actually watch them? Just thinking about it was bringing her so much closer to her end. She could feel herself right on the edge.

“I can feel that you’re close. But you know the rules. You don’t cum till I do. I want to feel you as I cum deep inside this pussy of yours.” Sam pulled back and sat back onto his heels. She whined at the loss of him. He yanked on Claire’s legs until her ass was settled onto his thighs and shoved himself back inside her with a grunt. The momentary break was just enough to pull her back from the edge and the angle changed just enough to give her a little bit of relief.

“Get over here, Dean. I want to look at you while I fuck her.”

Oh no. She thought. She thought Sam was being merciful, but he was making it so much worse.

Dean got up quickly and moved onto the bed by Claire’s head. He positioned himself so his cock was pointed over her chest. Claire whimpered again at the close proximity of Dean as well now. Her eyes focused on his hard cock as he continued to stroke it over her. She wanted to take him into her mouth and taste him, but she was still bound and gagged. She was nothing more than a pussy for Sam to fuck at the moment. Seeing movement from above her, Claire watched as the brothers’ lips met and moved together. They were so perfectly in sync that she clenched around Sam’s cock. He moaned a little in Dean’s mouth which only spurred Dean to pull on his own cock harder.

“C’mon baby boy. I know you want to cum all over her.” Sam whispered against his brother’s lips as he thrust even harder and deeper into Claire. She felt tears leaking down from her eyes as she desperately tried to hold off her climax. Sam glanced at her as he could feel her pussy fluttering around his length. Sam moved one of his hands from her thigh up to Dean’s head and grabbed a fistful of hair before smashing his lips against Dean’s and licking into his mouth.

Dean cried out at the sudden roughness and began to cum in thick spurts over Claire’s chest. The noise pushed Sam into his climax just as Claire lost her battle against her own. Sam pushed in deep as Claire’s legs trembled around him and her vision whited out. As Sam gave a last couple of slow thrusts and Claire tried to get air through her nose, Dean flopped down on the bed next to her with a grunt. Claire winced as Sam pulled out of her before reaching forward and pulling her panties from her mouth so she could breathe more easily. Sam dropped them to the floor and went into the bathroom. She heard water running before Sam shut it off and came back out with a damp washcloth. He walked over to Claire and tugged his belt loose from around her wrists. She brought her wrists down and rubbed them where they were red from her pulling while Sam cleaned her up as best he could. She knew that she’d be leaking both brothers’ cum for a while. She sat up, and Sam frowned as he saw her wrists.

“Sorry, baby girl. Didn’t mean to make them so tight. You okay?”

Claire smirked up at him. “I still could’ve gotten out of them, cowboy. I only stayed tied up and gagged cause I wanted to be.”

Dean snored loudly from next to Claire and Sam snorted at him.

“Such an old man. Passing out so quickly.” Claire said as she rolled her eyes.

“I ‘eard that.” Dean grunted before rolling over and tucking a pillow under his head.

Sam smiled at his big brother.

“So, uh… would you really let me watch? You know… you two… together?” Claire asked timidly.

Sam looked over at her in surprise. “You really want to? Like I know that you know we fuck, but it’s different actually seeing it, isn’t it?”

Claire shrugged. “Sounds hot. Seems like it could lead to a lot of fun.” She smirked at him.

“Uh, yeah, sure I guess. I’m sure Dean would be into it.”

You heard a muffled “yup” come from Dean, and Sam laughed.

“Then sure, you can watch us sometime.”

Claire grinned. “Awesome. Just, maybe, give me some time to recover from tonight.”

Sam smirked at her. “Oh, trust me baby girl, there’s no amount of time you can ever take to recover enough from us.”

Part 3- Worth It>>>

#Sam x Claire #Sam x Claire x Dean #smut #hints of Wincest #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural #synmorite #synmoritewrites

40 notes · View notes

jin-fluenced · 4 years

Text

Jin-fluenced’s May Recs

Fics I read throughout the month of May thinking I must have done something amazing at some point in my life to be blessed with these … I can’t believe you guys are letting us read your work for free.

Kim Seokjin

Half-Baked Holiday @ddaenggtan – Bakery a.u. F2L, I2L (idiots to lovers) (fluff/smut/slight angst) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this project: I love, love, love this project! The way everyone story is told independently; the way each story is unique with its own quirks and twists and the humor! Oh, the humor! The way I understand it the stories are written by four different authors but the way it all comes together and it fits so well, and how they have represented each respective member’s personality and quality so exquisitely and they are all referenced throughout the story even before they meet up at Tae’s cabin. I am sure I will think about this project for years to come, I really have not read anything like this before. What I love about this fic: They really are idiots; adorable idiots in love. Throughout the entirety of this fic I was shouting at them to JUST KISS! JUST DO IT! Jin was so understanding, so patient and so accepting of y/n – a true king.

2,561 Days @gossamie – marriage a.u. (angst with a touch of fluff) Summary: Two years of marriage could not stop the relationship from falling apart. As an attempt to seek closure before the divorce, Seokjin and you retrace your seven years together. What I love about this fic: the way the author writes angst, the fic is so well written and structured. Each scene made my heart break all over again. This is art.

Min Yoongi

Sugar @seokjxnnie – CEO, escort, office a.u. (smut) Summary: executive assistant to Min Yoongi by day and secret escort by night, the two separate elements of her life spiral into entwinement when her boss accidentally walks in on her taking a sex call with a sugar daddy. What I love about this fic: this one particular scene where y/n is on the phone and Yoongi is watching her …. *fans myself*

I’ll Float Away @ppersonna – Post-breakup, idol a.u. (very heavy angst, smut, fluff) Summary: years after the breakup, Yoongi, a successful award-winning rapper with an unhealthy addiction finds your wedding invite on Facebook. What I love about this fic: Character development. The way Yoongs grew as a person and overcame his struggles – truly inspiring.

Jung Hoseok

The Worst Wonderful Time of The Year @lamourche – Christmas/office a.u. (fluff/with a hint of smut) What I love about this fic: y/n was so close to titling her life as ‘a series of unfortunate events’ but then she meets Hobi and he made those unfortunate events a lot more bearable and liked her for the loveable, funny, clumsy person she is (with a super ability to make babies cry).

The Holiday: Unplugged @gukslut – Established relationship a.u. (sluff/smut/humor) What I love about this fic: their relationship, man … Their dynamic and the fact that they don’t need anyone else as long as they have each other. Therapist Jiminie and Hobi is a noteworthy conversation. I too would moan thinking about Jung Hoseok fucking me.

Kim Namjoon

Phantom Pains @fortunexkookie – Ghost a.u. (smut/fluff/angst) Summary: Namjoon had lived his entire life a certain kind of way - slowly, thoughtfully, and cautiously - and one moment of carelessness was all it took for it to end. He thought his death had come before he was ready, stealing his chance to figure out what he’d been missing. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized he’d been wrong all along. His life hadn’t ended a moment too soon. In fact, it had ended just in time to save yours. What I love about this fic: the author said this was going to be bittersweet so I braced myself but boy, I did not expect to weep like that. It’s so heart wrenching and hauntingly (pun intended) beautiful. Their love is so pure … fate can be such a cruel bitch. The way the author illustrated it I could feel what it was like for Joon to touch y/n for the first time, and my stomach twisted knowing that he would give anything to be able to really touch her.

All Aboard! (The Passion Express) @ve1vetyoongi – Office a.u. E2L (smut) Summary: There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find yourself on your knees for him on the train home. What I love about this fic: ZADDY JOON! THE FILTH! Man, what I would give for Joon to treat me like the filthy slut I am ON A TRAIN!

Midnight Wishes @ddaenggtan – Friend w/ Benefits, roommates, co-workers a.u. I2L (fluff/smut/angst) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this fic: How can two people so smart be absolute idiots when it comes to each other? I would give my left arm and both legs for Namjoon to call me slick, and ask me if I want it – because yes, yes, I do want him to fuck me stupid. I relate to y/n when it comes to pining and the butterflies and the clenching when it comes to Joon.

Park Jimin

Snow Don’t Tell @stutterfly – Neighbours a.u. F2L (fluff/smut/humour) | The Snow Ball Effect Project | What I love about this fic: The. Build. Up! The way they were already there and so in love with each other at the beginning of the fic, to them finally caving … I was blown. Jimin is so seductive, playful and loving at the same time, and their sense of humour and the constant teasing back and forth; I am weak!

Gratuitous Redemption @minjoonalist – Divorce a.u. (smut/angst/fluff?) Summary: Jimin is Innocent when it comes to his wife’s accusations and as stubborn as she is, the man refuses to go down without a fight. What I love about this fic: The angst. I cried like a little baby … I felt absolutely crushed.

I’ll Lead (and you have no choice) @boxysmiles [AO3] Summary: Park Jimin has always had taken comfort in his soulmate. Knowing that someone out there is connected to him through the red string tied around their fingers. Kim Taehyung, however, likes to make his life a lot more interesting. Because Kim Taehyung’s string isn’t around his finger. It’s around his neck. What I love about this fic: The way I cried, first I cried for Taehyung, then I cried for Jimin, then I cried because there was nothing they could do about it. Truly a masterpiece.

Kim Taehyung

Extracurricular @ppersonna – Professor, student a.u. (smut) Summary: Your professor Kim Taehyung is on the final key to securing your spot in the top 5% of your graduating class. What I love about this fic: I can’t go to class without thinking about Professor Kim Taehyung bending me over his desk.

Misconceptions @softjimin – Member x member (AO3) Summary: ‘So, Jimin has a daddy kink. Namjoon hyung, can you pass me the salt? Thanks’ What I love about this fic: Taetae, bless his soul, tried so hard to keep it in his pants.

Picking Flowers @jamaisjoons – Hanahaki, Neighbours a.u. F2L Summary: in the seven years you’ve been away, love had caused flowers to bloom in Taehyung’s chest only for them to wilt when she’d left him. when you meet Taehyung again, he doesn’t know what love is and more importantly, doesn’t know how to love or if he can ever love again. can you teach him? or will a garden of unrequited love blossom within the confines of your own chest? What I love about this fic: Everything, there is not a single thing I don’t absolutely adore. I don’t have the words to describe the way it made me feel. Please give lots of love to Solar.

Cheap skate @gukslut - Established relationship, domestic a.u. (fluff, smut, humor) What I love about this fic: THIS COUPLE! Reading about their relationship is the equivalent of having hot coffee, toast and sunny-side-up eggs for breakfast on Saturday.

Jeon Jungkook

Frost Impressions @fortunexkookie – Teachers, Gamers a.u. E2L/F2L (fluff/smut/heavy pining/slight angst) What I love about this fic: Absolute-mess-Jeon-Jungkookie! The humour – the author really nailed the humour. This is one of the best fics I have ever read. The second hand embarrassment was so real! *insert your mind it amazes me picture here*. I am fucking sorry at how smitten I am with these characters.

Little Wolf, Pretty Wolf, Your Wolf @readyplayerhobi (fluff/smut/angst) What I love about this fic: I have read a LOT of werewolf a.u., but this fic takes the cake! I joke about how there is a certain cliché to werewolf a.us but what I got from this fic is not what I expected at all going into it. I love the way y/ n and JK complimented each other, how supportive they were. She did it again you guys … I am in love.

#bts fic rec #bts smut #bts fluff #bts humor #bts angst #bts slow burn #bts crack

175 notes · View notes

blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

Text

Treat Your S(h)elf: The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker

We’re going to survive - our songs, our stories. They’ll never be able to forget us. Decades after the last man who fought at Troy is dead, their sons will remember the songs their Trojan mothers sang to them. We’ll be in their dreams - and in their worst nightmares too.

- Pat Barker, The Silence of the Girls

“It’s always hard on women, when a city falls.” Briseis, former princess of the Trojan city of Lyrnessus, has been Achilles’s slave for several months when someone she knew in her old life says these words. From the ancient world to our modern world there is this ugly and unspoken line of rape as a weapon of war. History is replete with examples. In the 20th-century where Nazis raped Jewish women despite soldiers' concerns with "race defilement" and raped countless women in their path as they invaded the Soviet Union and then in Berlin 1945 Russians in turn went on a brutal raping spree to punish the Germans. In the bloody Balkan wars in the 1990s, Serbian forces tortured and summarily executed scores of Muslims and Croats. In the Iraq war and the many conflicts in Africa in the 21st Century, rape is systemically used to subdue a defeated enemy. History shows the ugly truth that women’s bodies have always been viewed as the spoils of conflicts waged primarily by men.

The issue of rape in war is something that has always sat uncomfortably with me ever since I did my stint as an army combat helicopter pilot in Afghanistan. From my high vantage point I felt a detachment from the electronic battlefield - for everything was viscerally seen from my helmeted eye patch visor lens and not the naked eye. I couldn’t look people in the eye as as soldier on for patrol would have. The fear and sweat is the same but the risk is different. Soldiers on patrol or on a mission risk the constant threat of ambush, sustained attack under mortar or fire fights as well as the ever present danger of being blown up by an IED by accident. Pilots risk being coming under attack too by being ambushed by RPG rocket fire or coming under fire from below. Worse, was to think if you got hit and you had to bail and you were all alone, survival and evasion from capture becomes fearfully paramount. Of course they train you for this until it hopefully becomes muscle memory in how to survive and take evasive action from being captured and resisting as long as you could under interrogation. But as a female pilot the unspoken fear that dare not speak its name was ever present: the fear of rape.

I’m not sure my brother officers - no matter how sincere and well intentioned they were because we were all fiercely protective of one another - really understood what the word ‘rape’ means for a woman. Indeed a male friend and ex-army colleague said to me in jest don’t ever kid a man about kicking him in the balls because it’s one thing every man can imagine feeling but would find it hard to explain the excruciating pain when a man does get his balls bashed in. I don’t think the two ‘experiences’ are the same obviously but I understand how hard it is to articulate what it might feel like. I never really allowed myself to be consumed by the fear of what might happen if I ever got shot down and was captured but instead I made sure to focus on my job. It never really became pressing issue for me throughout my time in on the battlefield. I was lucky I got out in one piece despite a few close scrapes along the way.

I did hear awful and terrible stories from my oldest brother who served in the Iraq War of the raping of Kurdish women by Iraqi forces. It sickened him and left him hollow the the things he witnessed first hand. Through the charitable work of ex-veterans I have come across refugee woman who shared their harrowing stories of how they were violently and systematically raped as war booty and as primal assertion of victor dominance and control.

I was thinking about all these things as I read Pat Barker’s novel about one of the most famous wars of all, telling the story of the siege of Troy from the point of view of the local Trojan women taken by the Greek forces. It’s The Iliad as seen through the eyes of 19-year-old Briseis, the Queen of Lyrnessus who’s taken as Achilles’s “bed-girl”, his “prize of honour” for mass slaughter.

Barker’s not the first to turn to the classics for inspiration. It’s popular practice these days. Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire and Michael Hughes’ Country, for example, transpose classical stories onto contemporary settings. The Silence of the Girls is yet another much welcomed book to offer a fresh perspective on Homeric women, following Madeleine Miller’s brilliant Circe. But while Miller’s reinvention of literature’s first witch brilliantly evoked a world of ancient magic in retelling The Odyssey from the witch’s point of view, not that of the warrior she waylays on his journey home, Barker’s story has its feet very firmly on the ground. Yes, the gods are still there – you can’t tell the story of the Trojan wars without them, after all. The gods remain mostly off stage but they are present in the background, magically restoring the mutilated dead body of Hector. The sea goddess Thetis, Achilles’ mother, is a briny, frightening presence, as are the dark shore and the waves by which the whole horrible story takes place. Apollo still sends a plague, Achilles is the son of a sea goddess who brings him divinely forged armour and Hector’s body is magically restored to freshness after being pulled behind Achilles’s chariot.

But what really stands out are not heavenly allusions but the dirt and filth and disease and sheer brutal physicality of the Greek army marauding everything that stands in their way to Troy - there’s no magic here to ease the pain and trauma of rape or murder or even to help exact revenge. And while Achilles’ divine mother makes an appearance, and Apollo is beckoned by Briseis to bring about a plague, the gods remain on the peripheries of this story. If Circe, which chronicles the life of its titular character, is very much about the gods and their egos, then The Silence of the Girls, however, is very much about humans, their egos and their wars - both personal and political.

In all this Barker gives female characters such as Circe and Briseis the voice they’ve traditionally been denied, readers glean a different version of events behind the Trojan War epic myth. “Great Achilles. Brilliant Achilles, shining Achilles, godlike Achilles…How the epithets pile up,” Briseis begins. “We never called him any of those things; we called him ‘the butcher’.”

In The Iliad, a poem about the terrible destruction caused by male aggression, the bodies and pretty faces of women are the objects through which men struggle with each other for status. The women are not entirely silent, and goddesses always have plenty to say, but mortal women speak primarily to lament. They grieve for their dead sons, dead fathers, dead husbands and dead protectors; for the city of Troy, soon to fall, and for their own freedom, taken by the victors of war. Andromache pleads with her Trojan husband Hector not to leave her and their infant son to go back to fight Achilles. She has already endured the sack of her home city by Achilles, and seen the slaughter of her father and seven brothers, and the enslavement of her mother. If Hector dies, their child will be hurled from the city walls, Troy will fall and Andromache will be made the concubine of the son of her husband’s killer. Hector knows this, but he insists that his own need to avoid social humiliation as a battle-shirker trumps it all: “I would be ashamed before the Trojan men and women,” he says. He hopes only to be dead before he has to hear her screams.

Barker’s absorbing prose puts the experience of women like Andromache at the heart of the story: the women who survive in slavery when men destroy their cities and kill their fathers, brothers and children. The central character is Briseis, the woman awarded to Achilles, the greatest Greek fighter, after his army sacks one of the towns neighbouring Troy. Agamemnon, the most powerful, although not the bravest, of the Greek warriors – a character whose downright nastiness comes across beautifully in Barker’s telling – has lost his own most recent female acquisition and seizes Briseis from Achilles. Achilles’ vengeful rage against Agamemnon and his own comrades, and the subsequent vast death toll of the Greeks and Trojans, is the central theme of The Iliad.

Homer’s poem ends by foreshadowing the fall of Troy in the death of its greatest fighter, Hector. Barker’s novel begins with the fall of another town: Lyrnessus, Briseis’ home, destroyed by Achilles and his men. We then see that the fall of a city is the end of a story only for the male warriors: some leave triumphant and others lie there dead. For the women, it is the start of new horrors.

Barker’s subject has long been gender relations during conflict, along with the machinations of trauma and memory, so she’s in her element here. Her blood-drenched battle scenes are up there with the best of them, and she shows a keen understanding of the “never-ending cycle of hatred and revenge” fuelling the violence. Her focus, however, is that which takes place off the battlefield, inflicted on the women in the “rape camps.”

Barker keeps the main bones of the Homeric poem in place, supplementing Homer at the end of the story with Euripides. His heartbreaking play The Trojan Women is, like Barker’s novel, a version of the story that shifts our attention from the angry, destructive, quick-footed, short-lived boys to the raped, enslaved, widowed women, who watch their city burn and, if they are lucky, get a moment to bury their slaughtered children and grandchildren before they are taken far away.

One of Barker’s most tear-jerking sequences is lifted straight from Euripides: the teenage daughter of Priam and Hecuba is gagged and killed as a “sacrifice” on the dead Achilles’ tomb, and then Hecuba is presented with the tiny corpse of her dead grandson, a toddler with his skull cracked open. The girl’s gagged mouth and the child’s gaping brains conjure a gruesome twinned image for the silenced voices that should tell of the horror and pity suffered by the victims of war.

For most of Barker’s novel, Briseis is the first-person narrator, but in the final part, the narrative is intercut with third-person chapters told from the point of view of Achilles. We never get as close to Achilles as we do to Briseis, but he is a compelling figure in his fascinating combination of brutality and civility. Like Siegfried Sassoon in Barker’s 1991 novel Regeneration, this Achilles has the soul of a poet as well as of a killer and hunter: he is a man whose physical courage and compulsion to fight sit uneasily with his clear, articulate awareness of the futility of war.

But Achilles, however fascinating he may be, is not then at the centre of this story. Still, the novel does provide a moving, thought-provoking version of what is perhaps the most famous moment of The Iliad: when the old king Priam makes his way, alone and unarmed, through the enemy camp, to plead with Achilles to give back the mutilated body of his son, Hector. Barker twice quotes Priam’s Homeric words to Achilles: “I do what no man before me has ever done, I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son.” Barker lets us feel the pathos and pity of this moment, as well as the pathos of all the many young men who die violent deaths far from home. We glimpse, too, Achilles’ alienation from his own “terrible, man-killing hands”, which have caused so many deaths.

Briseis has a powerful riposte to Priam’s words, weighing this unique encounter between men against the myriad unremembered horrors suffered by women in war. “I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.”

Reduced to objects, they’re catalysts for conflict – Barker’s Helen inspires ribaldry not worship, “The eyes, the hair, the tits, the lips/ That launched a thousand battleships...” chant the soldiers – blamed for inciting hatred between men. Or they’re regarded as the victor’s spoils, claimed along with cattle and gold.

Briseis is both. Taken as a slave, Achilles and Agamemnon then feud over her: “It doesn’t belong to him; he hasn’t earnt it,” fumes the former. Men - Greek and Trojan alike – are afforded the privilege of vocalising their pain and loss, while women have to repress their suffering. “Silence becomes a woman,” they’re told, even when they’re free.

No longer an issue of decorum, now it’s about staying alive. “I do what no man before me has ever done, I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son,” declares Priam when he prostrates himself before Achilles begging for Hector’s body. “And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do, Briseis thinks bitterly, “I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.”

Barker has a very clear feminist message about the struggle for women to extricate themselves from male-dominated narratives. In the hands of a lesser writer, it could have felt preachy and woke but she masterfully avoids that. The attempt to provide Briseis with a happy ending is thin, and sometimes the female characters’ legitimate outrage seems a bit predictable, as when we hear Helen thinking: “I’m here. Me. A person, not just an object to be looked at and fought over.”

The novel has some annoying anachronisms, such as a “weekend market” (there were no weekends in antiquity), and a reference to “half a crown”, as if we were in the same period as Barker’s first world war novels. One wonders if any woman in archaic Greece, even a former queen, would have quite the self-assurance of Barker’s Briseis. But, of course, there is no way to be sure: no words from women in this period survive but Barker is surely right to paint them as thoughtful, diverse, rounded human beings, whose humanity hardly ever dawns on their captors, owners and husbands. This central historical insight feels entirely truthful.

Barker has a quasi-Homeric gift for similes: “that shining moment, when the din of battle fades and your body’s a rod connecting earth and sky”, or Achilles’ friend Patroclus dying, “thrashing like a fish in a pool that’s drying out”. There is a Homeric simplicity and drive in some of the sentences: “Blood, shit and brains – and there he is, the son of Peleus, half beast, half god, driving on to glory.” She is Homeric, too, in her attentiveness to what happens between people, and to the details of the physical world: the food, the wine, the clothes, the noise and the feel of skin, blood, bones, crackling wounds and screams. Barker, like Homer, understands grief and loss, and sees how alone people can be even when they are crying together. Loneliness in community is one of the major themes of this book, as it is of The Iliad.

Angry, thoughtful, sad, deeply humane and compulsively readable, The Silence of the Girls shows that Barker is a writer at the peak of her literary powers. You sense her only priority is to enlarge the story that we all know and she adds to it magnificently.

I have always enjoyed reading Pat Barker especially her enviable experience of writing about military life in her earlier novels and here in this book it shines through in the depiction of the Greek forces. The men are dehumanised by the wars they have created. This is primarily a book about what war does to women, but Barker examines what it does to men too. I was disturbed by the magnificently poignant final section which can’t help but make you reflect on the cultural underpinnings of male aggression, the women throughout history who have been told, by men, to forget their trauma. When Briseis is told to forget her past life, she immediately knows it is exactly what she must not, can not do: “So there was my duty laid out in front of me, as simple and clear as bowl of water: Remember.”

Briseis knows no one will want to record the reality of what went on during the war: “they won’t want the brutal reality of conquest and slavery. They won’t want to be told about the massacres of men and boys, the enslavement of women and girls. They won’t want to know we were living in a rape camp. No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps?” But even so, Briseis, for all that she must bear, understands eventually that the women will leave behind a legacy, though not in the same vocal, violent way the men will.

“We’re going to survive,” she says, “our songs, our stories. They’ll never be able to forget us. Decades after the last man who fought at Troy is dead, their sons will remember the songs their Trojan mothers sang to them. We’ll be in their dreams - and in their worst nightmares too.”

I felt disconcerted reading this and also very moved. As much as I love the Classics and firmly believe in it providing the foundational building blocks of our Western civilisation I also have to pause and remind myself that heroic behaviour, something the greatest of the Greeks are known for, isn’t anything admirable when viewed from the lens of the women they abuse. Heroism can be tainted by the dark side of one’s nature. However pure one soldier’s sacrifice for another can be, so there is the bestial side of us where the chains of civilised moral behaviour are unshackled and left to satiate our primal instinct for cruelty, conflict, and domination. Indeed what Barker does is be a much needed corrective because just as you think her perspective of the Greek heroes may be softening, she pulls back to remind you of Odysseus tossing Hector’s baby from the battlements, or Achilles’s casual butchery. “It’s the girls I remember most,” Briseis says. This then is a story about the very real cost of wars waged by men: “the brutal reality of conquest and slavery”.

In seeing a legend differently, Barker makes us rethink who gets to write history but also to remind us of our tainted human condition. There is no god in the machine to sort out most violent conflicts and situations with a thunderbolt here. There are only mortals, with all their flaws and ferocity and foolishness. And we all have to live with that but not I hope in silence.

86 notes · View notes

ryttu3k · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on His Dark Materials 2.05, spoilers for the whole trilogy!

jfc you ever see a character so magnetic... If Ruth Wilson doesn’t get an Emmy and/or a BAFTA I’m gonna riot (and unfortunately, that’s likely since SFF rarely gets big results in the award shows). Like how are you literally making me sympathise for Mrs Coulter. How. Because, yeah, she loves Lyra. She loves her so much that it informs every one of her actions in Amber Spyglass, including that one. But god if Lyra had accepted...

Also found it fascinating how Mrs Coulter was given three foils in this episode. Three direct comparisons! With Lyra - she even openly says how alike they are, with Lyra later denying that they’re anything like that - that she had not liked herself when she had Pan attack the Golden Monkey (subtitles used the non-canon Ozymandias name for him from the... stage show, I want to say? Or radio play? One of those. Pullman didn’t like it much, I believe, and I agree - I like that he doesn’t actually have a name, and someone in the sub pointed out it basically meant Mrs Coulter isn’t on speaking terms with her own soul).

Regarding Lyra: really enjoyed saying she’d rather be like Ma Costa or Lee. I just had this great image of her going, “I’d rather be like Ma Costa... or Lee Scoresby... or Iorek... or Mary Malone... wow, what the fuck am I bothering with biological parents for?”

Second foil - Mary. The sheer fascination mixed with absolute envy that Mary had these opportunities that she was denied. Like damn, what kind of a visionary would she have been in our world? ...Probably terrifying since she’s an Objectively Shit Person (how was it phrased? ‘Cess-pit of moral filth’? I doubt that’s just due to the world she’s from!), but still! And their reasons for wanting to help Lyra - Mary’s from curiosity and fascination and wonder, Mrs Coulter’s from... I guess possessive love.

Copypasting an entire comment here by GunstarHeroine from the subreddit:

SO MANY THINGS stood out in tonight’s belter of an episode, but Marisa Coulter’s meeting with Mary Malone and her subsequent Blue Screen Of Death on realising the reality of the patriarchy was something I will not forget.

Look at her. Look at her eyes, listen the words she uses. Marisa is absolutely fucking full of blinding rage at the truth she’s suddenly been hit in the face with. All her life she has been better, clever, smarter, and stronger than the men who dominate her society. And she has been forced to kowtow to these pissants, these simpering dull crude oppressors, slaving constantly in labour and cunning to secure the meagrest of breadcrumbs of respect and recognition in her academic and political fields. She has been forced to swallow the bitter pill of being ineligible for a doctorate, despite the undeniable superiority of her work. She has had to submit to her papers being published under the names of male peers and them taking her rightful credit. She has had to smile and simper and be agreeable and claw her way to power and respect through the utmost ruthlessness and cunning - and even though those things were always in her nature, the mental and emotional toll it’s taken on her is crystal fucking clear. She’s destroyed her own soul to rise to her rightful place.

And then she steps into another world and meets Mary. A doctor in her own right, with academic research in her own right, with her own brilliance in her own right. No fuss. No compromise. Just recognition on the basis of merit. And she realises, in that moment, what has been kept from her all her life, and how incandescently fucking furious she is.

Marisa Coulter is one of the greyest characters I've ever seen, and her handling in this adaptation is masterful. The way you can simultaneously despise her cruelty and feel desperately furious at what she's been forced to endure. Amazing.

And third foil, Boreal. Just flat-out calling him out on his greed. ngl I laughed when Will sliced the statue in half. Also his opening monologue about how there’s too little faith and too much consumerism... he says, from his Tesla, before they go to his mansion full of expensive items.

lmao god I can’t wait for *** ******* ** **** ***.

Speaking of Mary - she’s been told her role! I wonder if non-book readers have worked out who Lyra is yet, if Mary is the serpent? I want to say that’ll be in episode 7, not 6, since it’s just before the camp is attacked.

Also thinking that episode 6 will have Mary encounter the Spectres while passing through Cittagazze - in the book, it just says ‘you will be protected’, so it’ll be really cool if it confirms either of the two main theories, which is either a) the angels are protecting her (which would also be a fantastic way to introduce the angels in general, especially Balthamos and Baruch!), or b) the spectres recognising her as the Serpent and being fucking terrified.

Saw a preview image of Mrs Coulter surrounded by spectres and that’s gonna be a sight.

Want to kick Boreal somewhere uncomfortable after he hurt Will. Pretty sure Lyra did too. Leave him alone you bully!!

Side note, I am so amused they’ve made Pan’s new battle form a wolverine. And it’s still completely narratively appropriate! Like, yeah, it’s a reference specifically to Dafne Keen’s last major role, but also, the wolverine is the largest and strongest member of the mustelid family! It’s completely in character for Pan to use it!

Mrs Coulter and the Golden Monkey - li’l seatbelt was cute as hell. Rest was depressing as fuck. Daemons are souls, they reflect the human they’re attached to, and goddamn but you can learn so much about her by looking at him. The self-loathing - off the charts. The silence - she’s completely shutting herself off. If her daemon speaking reveals anything about her, then she has to cut herself off at all costs. Physically hurting him is literal self-harm. Just. Ouch.

The preview for next week showing Lee and John is giving me a heckin’ frighten. I’m sure they’re going to save Alamo Gulch for episode seven but I don’t want it to happen ;_;

Finally, on a meta note, it’s really fun watching all this come together for the non-book readers! Like someone on the sub was excitedly talking about a part in the opening credits where you see angel wings coalesce out of Dust. And that was a beautifully subtle note from the very start of season 1 that book readers picked up straight away, but now it’s all coming together for the non-book readers, and they’re going, “Wait, that’s not just cool imagery, that’s actually a depiction of canon!” Because yeah I do know the books, so I’m having quite a different experience to those who haven’t read them, and it’s just really cool seeing the non-book readers have these pieces falling together.

#his dark materials

15 notes · View notes

dirthavarens · 4 years

Text

Birthday Variables [Bookerbeth]

Fandom: Bioshock Infinite Characters: Booker Dewitt, Elizabeth Comstock Relationship: Booker/Elizabeth Rating: Explicit Warnings: SMUT AHOY. Word Count: 5,499 Notes: This started as an Anonymous ask for the “send me a ship and a prompt” and I got a LITTLE carried away. It’s the night before Elizabeth’s birthday and she finally get what she wants

READ ON AO3

or read below;;

New York City, October, 1912;;

It had been months since they discovered the truth of their connection, since his death, and his revival. The Lutece twins may have been able to take her away from Booker, but they could not take Booker away from her. Not again.

Not ever again.

With infinite wisdom and foresight came a price, one that she would pay time and again if it meant her first and only friend was still planted at her side, protecting her. She knew when tears would appear, when she would close them, what would happen in them, and yet she still held a sense of wonder and adventure very close to her heart. He brought a unique perspective into her life and made decisions entirely of his own volition since she brought him back on the shore of his betwixt.

The weather in New York was far different from that of Columbia, even more so was the filth that lined the streets, but Elizabeth paid no mind. They only stopped by his rundown one-bedroom every so often to pay the bills enough to keep the lights on and occasionally sleep off whatever adventure they had gone on. Though, Elizabeth had brought in a personal flair to breathe life into the dust covered hazy room.

A love seat, a dresser, some of her personal art, and some of the more prominent necessities, were all brought into through the tears she created. Of course, she had access to libraries aplenty, but she kept those in her tears, bringing through whatever book she wished and devouring it before Booker could even begin his. Not one for the books, that man.

The first week they were in New York, Booker insisted on sleeping on the floor or passed out at his desk, cigarette often still in-hand. He had been working non-stop to put the pieces together, to track down any signs of the Lutece twins, specifically Rosalind, and her connection to a debt collection agency. Although, at the time, with Annabelle gone, he had been too far into the bottle to remember much of anything, let alone care.

They maintained more than a comfortable friendship and Elizabeth found herself aching for him to be at her side in the middle of the night. She would lay awake and silently watch him nurse a glass of bourbon as he read the newspaper. Her fingers would ache and her heart would pound at her ear. She knew nothing terrible would come of it, there was no fear of rejection, but a barrier needed crossing.

And one night she crossed it. A nightmare had her screaming into the air and she scrambled to sit upright in bed. Booker reacted before she managed to get up, his hand cannon in one hand, her wrist in the other, ready to pull her behind him. When she admitted it had just been a nightmare, he offered her a drink and it was enough to loosen her tongue. She spilled more truth than she had wanted. That she loved him, that she felt too far from him when he slept ten feet from her, that he was her only friend.

From that night on, she fell asleep cradled in Booker’s arms, tucked squarely against his interminable warmth. She had loathed it in Paris, the late August sun bearing down on them as they stood atop the Eiffel Tower and her own excitement kept her warm enough, but Booker was still there at night to hold her close to him. Though, his warmth had proven itself useful as of late as she learned the first snowfall came terribly early and it was to be an unbearably cold winter.

They had shared their first kiss atop the Tower, in a cliche moment of romance, and Elizabeth could nearly feel herself plummet to the ground while soaring on the wind. From then, she sought to steal a kiss whenever she could. She adored the way his unchecked stubble felt against her cheeks and always pulled from him with a smile.

Kisses were nice, but she could see something more in his eyes. More than that, even. She saw her own desires reflected plainly, but neither took the initiative to make the first move, to take their relationship to that point. For all intents and purposes, they were a couple. The fact of their relation lost to them as they had never known the other as father or daughter, but as friend and something approaching lover.

She could feel his arousal from time to time, as she would sit in his lap, panting between pairs of parted lips. In their shared breath, he would mutter profanities before he put his hands at her hips and gently rocked her against him until she picked up the motion on her own. Elizabeth was far from naive. She knew of his desires and could hear him in the bathtub, her name falling from his lips in a voice she wished to hear at her ear. Oftentimes, her hand would wander between her thighs and stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves before sinking into her entrance. She felt a voyeur, a sinner, but if she could not have him physically, she would at least find pleasure in knowing she is the focal point of his arousal.

“Hey, thought you’d be in bed by now.” Booker’s voice broke through her thoughts as he walked into the apartment. Elizabeth noticed him carrying a small parcel bag in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in another. His drinking had slowed significantly since they had started traveling and not running for their lives. But when Booker found some time, he’d sniff out a bottle.

“I have too much on my mind and can't sleep,” she explained with an experimental tone. Perhaps tonight she could talk him out of his clothes and into their bed. After all, Booker didn’t seem the prudent type.

He gave a knowing hum and nodded his head, grabbing at two glasses from atop the icebox after setting the bag down where she could no longer see it. With her curiosity piqued, Elizabeth wanted to use her omnipotence to peer inside. However, gestures such as these, she knew, were uncommon coming from him. He preferred his sentimentality to come from protecting her and doing what he could physically to please her.

Well, almost physically.

He waved her over to his desk with but two fingers and she crawled from the sheets. Her nightgown was from another time in the future, shorter and thinner than any she had seen in any store in 1912. The ivory silk-like material floated over her form, but complemented her shape, giving credit where credit was due.

She caught sight of Booker eyeing her up from the corner of his eye while she cleared a space for her to sit on his desk. His jade eyes trailed her form as though he was looking at meal and she awarded herself a small, satisfied smirk that she withheld from his gaze. Not that he was looking anyway, his sights homed in the points of her nipples against the fabric of her sleepwear.

“Same stuff as before?” Elizabeth asked, amusement edging her voice, as she sat atop his desk, legs crossed.

“Nah, I was gettin’ tired of Jim Beam and decided to go with Old Crow. A bit smoother, but not by much. Might help you sleep,” he returned roughly, like a man caught in the middle of a drink.

Good.

When he regained his composure, Booker poured each of them a drink, Elizabeth’s considerably lesser than his own. She slowly inched closer to him and brushed against his leg with her own as he took a slow sip. She had grown tired of dancing around the subject. And tonight was as good as any because tomorrow they would be off to Paris as the tower was being built and then from there, it was her choice. Her twenty-first birthday would be the first she spent as a free woman.

She grabbed the glass he offered her and took a sip, the alcohol immediately making her recoil until she remembered how he showed her how to drink it. Open her throat and let it slide back, the burn wouldn’t be so bad that way. Just like drinking medicine.

They sat in silence for a moment before Booker’s curious green eyes looked up at her.

“You know what you’re wearing is lingerie? Might be from another time, but I know lingerie when I see it.” His words were plain, matter-of-fact, but she saw behind the apathetic veneer was an interest she wanted nothing more than to expand on. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk, the chair creaking as he shifted his weight towards her.

“I saw it in a store and thought it was worth buying. Do you like it?” She slid closer to him, her foot resting along the inside of his leg.

He glanced down at her foot then back to her and took a drink. Subtlety was gone from her mind. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

They met in July, formed an inseparable bond by August, fell in love shortly after. She knew marriage was the first step, but in their precarious situation, such things could not happen on paper. She didn’t care if she’d be marked as a harlot or a heathen for the rest of her days. Not when she had Booker.

She took another sip from her glass and cleared her throat when the burn settled in her stomach. Warmth spread through her body as the alcohol quickly went to work.

“Booker, why haven’t we made love?” she asked abruptly.

He raised a brow at her, eyes wide as he set a pack of cigarettes back down on his desk, and cleared his throat. Elizabeth felt the air around them grow dense with tension, but she needed to know without having to use her gifts. Booker collected himself and took another sip before he stood, positioning himself between her legs.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested,” he replied and left his glass to the other side of the desk. Her breath hitched when he placed his hands on either side of her. “But if that’s what you want for your birthday...”

“How’d you kn--” she began then remembered. “Oh.”

“Hard to forget dates like that. They stay with you no matter how much time passes.”

There was a forgotten emotion that flitted in his gaze but it disappeared before Elizabeth could place it. In its breadth came a much more germane state, one that she welcomed with open arms.

“What brought this on?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Nothing. It’s something I’ve wanted for months. Ever since that day. Ever since I watched you come back to life.” Her confession was honest and said with her eyes bounding between him and the amber liquid in her glass. “I figured that if I don’t initiate it, then it will never happen and I’ll never...”

He leaned in and stole a slow kiss that tasted of alcohol and cigarettes on her tongue as she opened her mouth to his. The first time he kissed her, Elizabeth hated the sense of burnt tobacco in her mouth and carried mints on her to erase the taste. But as was in many cases, she adapted with ease and found the taste to be enjoyable at times. It was befitting of him, as rugged and weathered as his palms.

“I know you’re interested, Booker,” she started again when he pulled his lips from hers. His breath played against her mouth and she had to keep herself from leaning back in. “I know you want this, and now you know that I do, too.”

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her against him, barely giving her enough time to set her drink down. She prepared herself for a kiss but was left empty as his lips found her neck. “All you had to do was ask.”

Nervous giddiness built within her and she held to his shoulder and wound a hand into the short hairs on the back of his head. Booker had explored her with similar kisses before, but none ever had such prominent intent. They had been lackadaisical and playful. His teeth raked against her jugular, drawing a gasp from her and sending warmth to pool in the pit of her belly as her excitement grew.

“Aren’t you all-knowing?” he asked against her skin and pulled a strap of her nightdress over her shoulder. “Why did you wait?”

Elizabeth pressed into him as he ran his mouth over her clavicle, a mixture of tongue, teeth, and lip as he explored the expanse of her chest. A low moan served as response when the hand at her hip scooped her up. Her legs wrapped around his broad form as he easily carried her over to the bed. She shrugged the other shoulder strap off and the silken fabric hung loosely from her nipples as he held her above the mattress.

“I don’t use my omnipotence for my own sexual gain, Booker.” Her lips found his, her hands at either side of his face, and showed him that she was in the mood to talk no longer.

With the message having been received, Booker deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers while a low groan sounded in his throat. He lowered her to the mattress and positioned himself above her. Elizabeth’s breath hitched when he ran a hand down her torso, over the swell of each breast, and down to her abdomen before bringing it up to rest at her cheek.

There was a familiar pressure at her core. It was the same sensation she got while she pleasured herself to hearing his moans and pants when he thought she slept. Though, it felt urgent and she felt a slickness start to ease its way from between her folds.

Her hands moved to his belt and slipped it through each loop with ease after unbuckling it. She threw the leather to the floor and grabbed at his button-up. For a moment, Elizabeth considered tearing it off of him, leaving the buttons to land where they would. But Booker beat her to the punch.

He leaned back on his knees and unfastened each button with intentional slowness. His chest was not something she hadn’t seen before. In fact, she had seen in so many times she knew the exact number of scars he had, but that information was not prudent as he pressed his knee against her core.

The contact sent a zip through her that crackled with more electricity than Shock Jockey ever could, and she shuddered. Her eyelids fluttered as he shifted his knee, working on the last couple of buttons quicker than he had the first three. She reached up, pushed the fabric out of her way, and placed her fingers into the band of his slacks.

The forming mass within his pants had not escaped her when she unclasped the button. With an eagerness that she never experienced, she pressed her palm against his erection. Elizabeth glanced up to see Booker looking down at her with approval, his hips swaying into her touch. Admittedly, he was larger than she had expected, though she wasn’t sure why she was surprised.

He dwarfed her when it came to size. Booker stood just over six feet and she came in an entire foot shorter. Not to mention he was broad and muscled, while she was sleek and slender. The two couldn’t be more opposite.

Elizabeth shook the thought from her mind, not wanting to intimidate herself too much. She was intent on enjoying her first time having sex, especially with Booker. Her safety and comfort were not in question on his part. He always moved at her pace, but was leaping the second she said jump.

She ran her hand along the length of his erection and gently squeezed when she reached the top. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Hard but pliant, though not by much.

Booker rocked into her touch as he shrugged his shirt off and tossed it across the room. Her fingers hesitated for a moment at his zipper, noticing that he wore no undergarments. The tuft of sand-colored curls that lined down to his pelvis was left uninterrupted and Elizabeth ran her fingers along the straight patch. In response, Booker took it upon himself to pry her legs open further and place his hand where his knee had taken residence.

Another hitched breath escaped her mouth when his thumb lightly traced over her clit through her underwear. He teased her nub enough to make her hand falter for a moment longer before she regained composure. Her grip was quick at his zipper and she pulled it down to reveal the flushed tip of his cock. His pinstripe pants hung loosely at his hips for but a moment because he was leaning forward over her and kicking them off.

Elizabeth caught his lips in a kiss and found herself moaning at the sensation of his erection bouncing against her. Booker smiled against her mouth and tugged at the hem of her clothing, a silent demand for her to remove it.

Without hesitation, she adjusted herself and peeled the silk from her body. There was nothing but her underwear now, and Booker’s hand was working its way between her skin and the fabric. His middle finger slipped between her folds and both of them shuddered in time when he was met with an abundance of her juices.

“Fuck, Liz...”

The nickname rang at her ears as he sank the digit into her core. So far was the feeling of his finger inside of her as opposed to her own, Elizabeth thought it was something entirely different. She let out a breath as she adjusted to the girth of his finger. Again, she thought of how she was going to fit his erection within her body, but this time with desire instead of fear.

“God, you’re so...” he breathed and leaned down to take her breast into his mouth. She lifted into his mouth and rocked against his finger, her body writhing in opposing directions as she let out a string of breathy moans. “I’m afraid I might break you.”

Her hands moved to her underwear and she peeled them off. Admittedly she did not care that they were essentially ruined for the night as she heard them fall against the floor. His finger continued to work in and out of her, prodding and curling within her. Her thoughts clouded and Elizabeth was abuzz with crashing waves of warmth and shocks of something she had only experienced in privacy.

Though, Booker had been the cause of most--if not all--of her orgasms since they escaped Columbia.

His lips moved from her breast, touched her chin, then left her entirely. The loss of contact caused her eyes to shoot open and search for where he had gone. She saw him hovering over her abdomen and thought she might go mad at the sight.

His dusty blond hair was mussed and there was a glint in his gaze as he met her eyes that left her dizzy and full of need. Elizabeth held back a moan as his lips returned to her skin, his kiss at her hip rougher than any kiss before. It sent her reeling, her head falling back to the pillow as she released a strangled gasp.

“Oh, if you’re enjoying this, darling, just you wait,” he chuckled and she glanced down to see the look of a predator in his eye. Booker gave her wink before crawling from the bed and knelt on the floor. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”

Her thoughts too cloudy to question, Elizabeth obeyed and positioned herself squarely in front of him, knees bent over his shoulders. She caught sight of his hand slowly working his shaft and shivered at the soft glistening coming from his cockhead. He removed his hand from himself after she was situated and pulled her to him until her thighs rested against his collarbone and his mouth was directly at her core.

“Relax, Elizabeth. I have to get you as ready as I can. I don’t wanna hurt you if I can avoid it.” Booker’s reassurance touched a soft spot within her and she pushed herself up on her elbows to watch.

Without another word, he experimentally traced up between her folds with his tongue and rounded her clit. Elizabeth nearly collapsed from the electric pleasure that shot to and fro in her spine before it crashed directly into her core. Her eyes stayed fixed on him as best they could at the combination of sensation and focus as he swept his tongue over her again.

When Booker met her eyes and flicked her clit with the tip of her tongue once, twice, one more...

Elizabeth groaned, her head falling back against the mattress and reached for his hair. She squirmed beneath him, relishing the heat between her legs as he lapped and sucked at her core, his stubble scratching and tickling between her thighs.

He was driving her closer to the edge of cliff she never knew could be so high. Her hips jutted and rolled against his mouth, lifting into the air, but Booker only held tight to her, letting her writhe against him as his tongue focused entirely on her clit, striking the nerves just right...so incredibly right...her world plummeted into darkness and reemerged with bursts of blinding light.

“Booker!” His name split into the air, loud enough to ring through to the neighbors above, beside, and below, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care when Booker’s tongue was working such magic on her. And when he pulled back, Elizabeth caught sight of him licking his lips with his jaw glistening with her juices.

“This might be uncomfortable at first.” Booker pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh before he sank and worked his forefinger into her. What? What could possibly be--

She watched as his middle finger squeezed beside the other and ease into her. The sensation of being stretched by him, his fingers working in tandem to prime her, was unlike anything she could imagine. He took his time with his preparation. On occasion, he would hit a spot that made her moan or curse and every time, he would chuckle, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Boo--” she panted, voice hoarse and heady with arousal. “Booker, please.”

He removed his fingers from her and crept over her, his lips meeting hers in a kiss so desperate Elizabeth thought she might cry. She tasted her own release on his mouth, thinking the flavor strange. However, the permanent taste of bourbon and tobacco backed the taste enough for it to heighten the ecstasy driving her. Her body was shaking as he led her up until her head was back at the pillows, her form crying out with overwhelming desire.

“I’ll go slow, alright? I don’t wanna hurt you,” he ushered against her lips as his hand grabbed at his cock to align it with her entrance. “Try to stay relaxed.”

Elizabeth tried to follow instructions, but he was running his dripping erection against her entrance and it had her shivering and rocking her hips against him. Instead of stopping her, he moved in synchronicity with her, meeting her peaks and nearly dipping into her when she ground her hips down.

“Elizabeth.” Booker whispered her name with such reverence, she thought it might be a prayer. He bent over her, his forehead pressed to hers as he prodded her entrance with his cockhead. “I’m going to start now.”

She nodded and locked her attention on his features. Slowly, he pushed into her and Elizabeth did her best not to wince, but tears pricked at the edges of her eyes all the same. He was hard and pulsing and too snug inside of her and she clung to his back, digging her nails into the already scarred expanse.

“God, Booker...” she cried, burying her face into the sweat-coated nape of his neck. He had prepared her, but she had not anticipated such a different feeling. “It hurts...”

He brought a hand to the back of her head and carded his fingers through her hair. “I know. Give yourself time to adjust. I want you, but if you want to stop, we can.”

The thought of stopping snapped something in her and she pulled back, shaking her head wildly in disapproval. Booker was inside of her, ready to make love to her and she wasn’t going to stop because of a pain she was slowly growing accustomed to. “No. I want to keep going. It’s like you said, right? I just have to give myself some time to adjust.”

There was a smile forming on his lips that gave her some reassurance and the finger that came up to wipe at the tear at the edge of her eye settled some of her nerves. She gave a breath and scrambled for something that might help.

Distractions always aided in pain. Her rage had blinded her to the hole in her back, too many bullets whizzing by her had kept her focused on Booker. A distraction was what she needed.

“Booker,” she began softly, swallowing the pain, “...kiss me. Kiss me and keep going.”

He obeyed. He met her mouth with abandon and the world returned to the haze it had been before. Elizabeth groaned into the kiss when Booker sank further inside of her and slowly filled her an inch at a time, withdrawing slowly before sinking deeper.

A groan escaped from him and she drank it in with fervor as the pain began to subside. She still felt too-full, but the pressure released a ravenous hunger in her for him to take her, and she wanted him to know. She pushed down on him as he rolled into her and sent his cock deeper into her, pressing against something within her that caused another cry to split into the air.

“More,” was all she managed to say between the steady thrusts of his hips. And he happily gave her more by sinking into her until she could feel his skin against her own.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he muttered against her mouth and grabbed at her hips. Before Elizabeth realized what he meant, Booker had her in a steady hold and drove himself into her, faster and more forcefully than before.

An instance of pain dissolved into a fire that resided deep inside of her, burning up and making way for the pleasure that seized her. He met her lips in sloppy, haphazard kisses as he repeated the motion again and again. They held a steady tempo, each thrust brushing somewhere deep in Elizabeth that had her breathless, her mouth dry, and crying out for more.

Pressure built with every motion, her lower half trying to escape his hold, but each movement brought her walls clenching around his cock. And every time she constricted around him, a near feral grunt would sound in his throat. With every noise he made, the pressure built higher, her pleasure increasing with his own.

Then something changed, he lifted her hips and pushed her legs back until her knees were level with her face, his dick falling from her for a moment. The sudden loss of him inside of her left her aching painfully with need. She had been so close...

But Booker kissed her forehead, realigned himself, and thrust into her without the tenderness of the start. Elizabeth muffled another cry as he filled her completely, their skin slapping together.

“Elizabeth, don’t hold back. Let it out. I want to hear you come for me,” he urged with a strained growl, his pace erratic but hitting something inside of her and beyond that made her unable to hold out. She twisted and writhed against him, seeking purchase anywhere she could with her lips, her teeth, any part of him.

In the midst of blissful chaos, Booker wiped her hair from her face, and Elizabeth looked up at him through blurred vision. Despite her body nearly thrown from a mountaintop and the ache deep within her, she felt tender warmth spread throughout her. “I...love y-you...Booker DeWitt...”

“I love you,” he returned, his words nearly drowned by the sound of their sex.

Each point of contact was met with a cry from her lips until her head was numb and the pressure was too much to take. She reached her peak in stunned silence at first, her eyes opening wide before her entire body clenched in around him, legs shifting to find purchase, nails digging into him, her walls trapping him inside of her.

With a deep groan, Booker’s hips jutted against her; and as she felt his seed spill into her, Elizabeth’s final note was a strangled cry, tears pricking at her eyes. Every nerve of her body was overloaded with too much stimuli as she collapsed back onto the mattress.

Her chest heaved, her lungs burned, her mouth was terribly dry, her every muscle ached, but she had never felt so satisfied in her life. She wiped at the tears falling from her eyes before Booker could get a negative impression, if that was even possible.

She felt his spent cock pulsing and softening inside of her while he collected his faculties. His exhaustion brought a pleased grin to her lips and Elizabeth sighed contentedly when he pulled out of her with a wet pop.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then to her lips before he fell to the bed beside her. She laughed as he stretched out like a satisfied cat, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, and cheeks flushed from exertion.

Elizabeth felt like she was made of batter, nearly too exhausted to move, but she forced herself to roll over and set her forearms on Booker’s torso. Her grin was permanent as she kissed his jaw.

Booker glanced at the wristwatch he left on the end table beside the bed.

12:05 AM.

“Hope that was a good enough start to your birthday,” he hummed with a breath of laughter.

“It was...” Elizabeth paused as she searched for the words. In all of her infinite knowledge, she found herself scrambling. “It was incredible. Does it always feel so good?”

Booker thought for a moment, as though unsure of what to say. “Depends on the person. If you’re compatible, it’s usually something like this.”

“But not exactly?”

“No,” Booker returned and leaned forward to kiss her. “That’s the difference between fucking and making love. Sex is usually great, but there’s more to it when you love the person.”

The sentiment was strange coming from his mouth, but Elizabeth found herself beaming and curled up beside him. They laid there for a few moments, both content with the silence surrounding them.

Booker was the first to rise from the bed, pulling his pants up and moving to lean against his desk. He grabbed his cigarettes and lit one with his vigor, taking a hard enough drag for Elizabeth to hear the crackle of the tobacco burning. He exhaled with an air of satisfaction she hadn’t seen from him before and her inquisitive nature must have been reflected in her expression because Booker was already preparing an answer.

“A smoke’s always tasted great after sex. Don’t know why, but it does,” he explained as he grabbed her glass and went to the bathroom. She heard him rinsing and filling the glass, and when he came out, Booker handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she started as she sat up to take a drink.

Something slid out from between her legs and Elizabeth immediately clenched them together, her eyes wide as she looked to Booker, who was biting back a smirk.

“That’s normal,” he said as he put out the cigarette and offered her a hand. “C’mon, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

She slipped her free hand into his and finished her glass in one gulp before setting it on the nightstand.

Elizabeth watched--no, marveled--at the sight of Booker being so caring and dare she say it, domestic. The man who killed with his bare hands and had a body count higher than she ever needed to know, was showing her a tenderness that she could never fathom, but knew to be true.

She thought then of everything that she would have deprived herself, deprived him, had she left him drowned in that river.

There’s always a man. There’s always a lighthouse. There’s always a city.

But that didn’t mean it had to end the same way each time.

#my writing #bookerbeth #booker x elizabeth #elizabook #lizabook #dewincest #i am a SAP for them #hyperfocus came in clutch for this one kiddos #bookerbeth fic

19 notes · View notes

ofthreechords · 4 years

Text

cadel + theron: swtor & the secret world crossover/au concept

Deleted my last post about this because I didn’t like it. Going to try again.

This is a thought that’s been in my mind for the last few weeks for no reason other than that I find it fun to imagine. What if my SWTOR character Cadel Browydr and his love interest Theron Shan were in the universe of The Secret World? (See here for more info on Cadel and Theron)

For those unfamiliar with The Secret World, it’s an urban fantasy MMO. Its setting is our modern-day Earth under attack from occult forces. There is magic, mythical creatures, and secret societies pulling the strings and controlling the world. Among these secret societies are the Templars, the Dragon, and the Illuminati.

All of these thoughts are my own and I’m not dictating what someone else’s SWTOR + The Secret World crossover should look like. I’m just writing my thoughts down so that I can keep track of them. This whole thing is hideously self-indulgent, so be warned.

tl;dr: This is how I’d do it -- Theron comes from Los Angeles, California, and was force-recruited into the Illuminati after graduating from university. Cadel was born in Ottawa, Ontario, into a Templar-affiliated family that taught him traditional Templar values growing up. Details under the cut.

-- ILLUMINATI AGENT: THERON SHAN --

Theron was born in Los Angeles, California. His parents, Jace and Satele, divorced when he was very young. They had joint custody of him, but Theron lived mainly with his mother, only being sent to his father’s when his mother had to travel for work. His mother worked in disaster relief and his father was a businessman. Theron didn’t really bond with either of his parents growing up. His mother was firm and disciplinary, and his father was very busy with work, so neither of them really gave Theron the love and support he needed. He grew up rather lonely, though he discovered a talent for music -- this became his “escape”, teaching himself piano and guitar and writing short songs on occasion. He shared his music only rarely with his peers, and never with his parents. It wasn’t until his teenage years when Theron and his father started to grow closer, and they gained some semblance of an ordinary father-son relationship. His mother started to travel for work more often, and so he saw her less. Jace learned of his son’s musical talent, and while he was supportive of it at first, he convinced Theron that he wouldn’t make a good living as a musician. Theron went to study business in university, with his father paying for all of his courses. He proved himself to be a bright student, and even his mother became proud of him -- however, she could not attend Theron’s graduation ceremony due to her work. After the ceremony, Gaia sent a bee for Theron to swallow, and part of the auditorium was destroyed in the following explosion. Soon afterwards, a group of Illuminati revealed themselves to Theron, and Jace revealed himself as a member. They covered up the incident, paid the university a large sum of money to silence them, and sent Theron to the Illuminati Labyrinth in New York. Suddenly plunged into the secret world, Theron had to rapidly learn about the existence of magic and mythical creatures and the secret organizations controlling the world. He learned how to control his newfound powers, preferring anima-infused firearms over magic. During his time training, Jace informed Theron that Satele had been missing since his graduation ceremony. This came as a shock to them both, as Jace had never known about Satele’s involvement in the secret world. He does not know where she is, but he suspects she is with the Dragon. Theron makes a living as a field agent for the Illuminati, but he disapproves of their lack of ethics, cheating others and their own people to make money and get ahead. Jace agrees with him only partially, but he argues that the Illuminati have power and they get results. Theron wishes to return to his old life in Los Angeles, but he has a feeling that his mother is here somewhere in the secret world, and he wants to find her.

-- TEMPLAR MAGUS: CADEL BROWYDR --

The Templar-affiliated Browydr family is a large and privileged family that has its roots in Cardiff, Wales, though a portion of them live in Ottawa, Ontario, and that is where Cadel was born. Growing up, many of Cadel’s summers were spent in Wales, learning about magic like everyone else in his family. In Canada, he helped his family oversee secret world activity in the area while maintaining an ordinary appearance to the mundane world -- going to school, being part of the community, et cetera. Though potion-brewing was not one of Cadel’s strong suits, cooking and baking definitely were, and they were his main hobbies throughout his childhood. Cadel expressed dreams of becoming a chef, but his parents told him that he was a Templar, first and foremost. They taught him traditional Templar values -- to fight evil and to protect the world -- and Cadel learned to embrace them. Like the rest of his family, he became fiercely loyal to the Templars, aspiring to become a Templar Knight one day, stamping out evil wherever it may lurk. He was a “golden boy” all around, even to the mundane world -- earning good grades in school, participating in sports, and being a role model to his peers. As he grew into adulthood, he started started to reflect on his childhood passion towards food, and how his parents had discouraged him from that. He still cooked on a regular basis, but he didn’t feel the same passion as he did before. He also began to question the Templar values he’d been taught -- thinking they may be too extreme or too black-and-white -- which led to disagreements with his family. Cadel ended up feeling lost, not knowing what to do with his life. He went to college and took courses in various fields like English, philosophy, and history, and while he enjoyed learning in those fields, he didn’t feel as if they were what he wanted to do with his life. Before he was able to complete a degree, Gaia sent a bee for Cadel to swallow. His family sent him to Temple Hall in London, where he learned to use his new powers, and he became proficient in many different types of magic. He favours Blood Magic and Chaos Magic in particular, and has discovered abilities in thaumaturgy. His magical prowess has earned him the respect of many other Templars, and Temple Hall has awarded him the title of Magus. Since he started working in the field, Cadel has found that what makes him happiest is work where he helps out people in need. This is consistent with one of the values his parents had taught him -- to protect those who cannot protect themselves -- but Cadel remains somewhat critical of other values the Templars uphold. To this day, he remains relatively silent about these criticisms.

-- CADEL & THERON --

(If you’re still reading this and you’ve made it this far, I respect you. I also warn you that this following section is the most self-indulgent thing ever.)

Cadel and Theron’s respective factions had them assigned to Solomon Island to rescue survivors and cull the Filth infestation, and that is where the two met. They became friends fairly quickly, and there was physical attraction between the two, but the Templars and Illuminati are old enemies, and this discouraged them from starting a romantic relationship. They kept in contact, but they didn’t meet again until months later -- when they were both assigned to Egypt to root out the Cult of Aten. During their downtime, they went to a cafe and shared stories, bonding and growing closer. They eventually confessed to each other and agreed to start a relationship, but they kept it secret from their respective handlers. From then on, working together became a rarity, but they kept their relationship stable, going on dates all over the world and strengthening their bond. Eventually they stopped being so secret about it, and thankfully, their handlers didn’t seem to care -- so long as it didn’t get in the way of their work. This led to Theron and Cadel discussing their criticisms of their respective factions with each other, and Cadel suggested joining the Council of Venice. It’s in a neutral position between the Templars, Illuminati, and Dragon, and it may enable the two to do more work helping the world and giving aid to people who need it. Months passed, and they worked and advanced through the ranks of their respective factions, and they got the attention of the Council of Venice. Some time later, they both joined. This was seen as an act of abandonment by Theron’s father and Cadel’s family. This surprised neither Theron nor Cadel, but they remained firm in their decision. They both wanted to work in an organization that aligned with their morals. Eventually Cadel’s family warmed up to the change, though Jace cut off all contact with Theron. This made Theron depressed for a bit, but Cadel was endlessly supportive of him. Working for the Council was not all the two had hoped it would be -- it was and still is slow and inefficient, but Cadel and Theron were still doing work that they enjoyed. Cadel’s family began to accept his and Theron’s relationship, and Theron took this as confirmation -- he and Cadel were made for each other. Theron proposed, and they eventually got married, with all of their friends and Cadel’s family at the wedding. They had invited Jace, too, but unfortunately he did not come. To this day, the two still work for the Council and are still in love. Theron goes crazy for Cadel’s cooking, and Cadel helps Theron re-kindle his passion for music. Theron knows that his mother is still out there, and he intends to find her. Cadel intends to help him.

#my swtor #theron shan #cadel browydr #crossover #au #alternate universe #swtor #star wars: the old republic #the secret world

1 note · View note