#So the next 3 weeks would be Lord of the rings

[takeiteasyjoan]

I'm done with Erin Brockovich. Was good!

I spun the random number generator wheel for next week's movie, and I can choose from...

Die hard,

the fast and the furious, or

Lord of the rings fellowship of the ring!

Action action fantasy!

[kathrynmjaneway]

.

[artytaeh]

honeymoon!Mattheo? Also I'm so obsessed with your pages aesthetic, especially since I've been on this app for like 3 years and just changed my profile picture... anyways adore you and your writing <3

this is so sweet! i melt everytime i reread this rq, i swear. tysm for reading my posts and accompanying my writing, also for requesting 🌷 honeymoon!theo was a silly shower thought— i didn't plan to do a version of it. however, since you're asking, i just can't say no; so i hope that you like it, love! ♡

warnings: includes smut, so obviously it's advised for +18 readers; read at your own risk. brief mentions of trauma from being the son of bellatrix lestrange + the dark lord.

honeymoon!mattheo who felt like these next two weeks outside england, just the two of you, were like a blessing after your wedding day— don't get me wrong, mattheo riddle feels like the luckiest motherfucker to have been the one to marry you, the man who put that ring on your finger and to see you walking down the aisle to him. even so, fucking hell, how can a celebration for your marriage be so, so exhausting for the two of you? mattheo himself begged you to take off those heels; it was paining him to see you in them after so many hours, really!

honeymoon!mattheo who was ecstatic at the idea of going out of the country with you, of all people. sure, he's been out of england: he studied at hogwarts, which is in scotland; italy too, courtesy of theodore's invitations to spend a few weeks or most of the summer break at his family's estate; that one time that draco bragged about his wealth and took all of his friends to spend weekends or some days somewhere through europe. but travelling with you? that's different. this isn't a vacation with the boys; he's on his way to enjoy two paradisical weeks with the love of his life— just. the. two. of you.

honeymoon!mattheo who planned these vacations with you — where do you wanna go? how long would you like to stay? would you rather somewhere to rest and do nothing, or travelling around? truthfully, mattheo had his own preferences; as fun as it is to explore new places and unraveling different cultures, mattheo was a bit (a lot more) into seeing you in bikini most of the day. visiting a city or some nearby mexican tourist attraction is totally fine by him; a few were chosen by the two of you during a rainy day, cuddling on the sofa as you and him daydream about the sound of waves, sunny days and heat tanning your skins. with a laptop in front of you, mattheo checklists and makes notes of whatever was decided that day.

honeymoon!mattheo who jumps straight to the bed as soon as you arrive to the hotel's bedroom. soon, strong arms pull you close to him; mattheo spends some minutes like this with you, cuddling and feeling you close, nevermind how warm it is in mexico during this time of the year, not giving a flying fuck if you two are sweaty. mattheo riddle needs to rest after so many bloody hours inside a plane, and dealing with the airport's burocracy. fuck, there's a fucking spell for everything in the wizarding world, how come no one found a better way to travel between two continents already?!

honeymoon!mattheo who has his arm around your waist at all times. walking together? mattheo is there, hugging your waist, matching his usual long strides to your calmer pace, making sure that you're the one leading the speed of your walk. taking a stroll on a nearby city or exploring the streets? mattheo riddle won't unwrap his arm from your waist, fingers gently tracing the curve of your side, as you two comment about the beautiful streets you walk by and how good all of these restaurants smell. and, well, if his arm becomes bothersome because of the heat, mattheo is happy to hold your hand— as soon as it becomes sweaty, mattheo himself moves to your other side, to take your other hand in his, nevermind if he has to repeat this ritual every five minutes.

honeymoon!mattheo who drags you to play on the beach with him! this man will proudly buy a kid's kit for himself: a set with beach toys, including a bucket, shovels and other stuff to build castles on the damp sand. obviously, the set is green, if there's that color option— hey, all of those years as a slytherin, wearing a green tie on a daily basis, got him a little attached to the color, alright?!

honeymoon!mattheo who looks like a man preparing himself to go to war, as you patiently massage the sunscreen on his face, warm shoulders and back, along with the rest of his body; you don't trust your husband to apply the sunscreen correctly, since mattheo is all too impatient to go have fun. he does the same to you, of course; pulling you to his lap, big hands making sure that your smooth thighs are protected by the sunscreen— maybe a little too much, since you grow suspicious that mattheo caresses your thighs for a moment longer than necessary. hey, he's a man in love; can't a husband appreciate his wife's beautiful body?!

honeymoon!mattheo who lowkey tries to learn how to speak spanish, or at least simple phrases; thank you, hello, please, and perhaps being a little more observant to catch a curse word or two. god forbid mattheo catches on how to compliment you— now, each time you show your outfit, smile or do something as simple as existing near mattheo riddle, he grins and dramatically pronounces: 'guapissima! bonita, muy bonita.' — sneaking a squeeze on your bottom, pressing your body closer to his. you'd be at least a little annoyed, if mattheo's bambi eyes weren't so full of love for you. you know he means every single praise that rolls out of his mouth.

honeymoon!mattheo who sleeps a little more peacefully now, in mexico, far away from london and the looming notion of his ancestry. here, a continent away from his lunatic of a mother, oceans away from the knowledge of being the dark lord's son, mattheo riddle relaxes. you're married now; away from the chaos. during your wedding day, mattheo was terrified that something would tarnish this happiness with you. being physically away from all of that, on a country where no one blinks an eye at the surname riddle, mattheo is able to relax and let go of the overthinking habit he created since childhood. mattheo riddle isn't a cursed child anymore— at least not here with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who buys a lot of souvenirs. at least for theodore, he gets something that he knows that his best friend would find funny too; perhaps one or two things for his slytherin friends. then a lot of bracelets, or whatever the fuck you happen to stare for a few seconds. sundresses become part of your wardrobe, too, since mattheo argues that is sinful to not have you wearing such flattering clothes, choosing colors that you like the most, and compliment you the best.

🗯️ : matt, this is the third dress you're about to buy for me. i already have enough!

m : nonsense. you don't have any on this color, do you? besides, it's fancy to say 'hey, see this dress? my husband got it for me from mexico'; i'm helping you to brag, woman!

honeymoon!mattheo who hugs you from behind in the pool, trailing kisses from your left shoulder, cheek, neck, shoulder blades, until he does the same to the other side. he's not even attempting to convince you to lustful things— mattheo is just so in love with you. should an older couple or bitter tourists side-eye any of you, mattheo will kiss your cheek for a moment longer, staring menacingly to whoever is nosy enough to notice him and his wife. mattheo riddle, as always, doesn't even have to open his mouth; his serious expression and dark eyes being enough of a warning. as soon as they avert their gaze, mattheo goes back to the task at hand: kissing every inch of you with that silly little smile of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes full advantage of the jacuzzi on your bedroom. you should have expected it, as soon as dark eyes shine with mischief, a wolfish grin on his lips as mattheo riddle inevitably plans ahead— hours later, you'll find out exactly what was going through that devilish mind of his.

honeymoon!mattheo who is safe to say that fully enjoyed the warm water at night— calloused hands placed on your hips, thumbs brushing soothing circles on your hipbones as mattheo takes in the sight of you, naked on top of him, guiding your movements as you bounce on his length. mattheo fights the urge to tilt his head back and close his eyes, wanting to drown himself in the sensation of you so tight, so warm and wet around him— but then, he'd lose the bewitching vision of you, so mattheo bites his lip while his hands move lower and lower, greedily squeezing your bottom, hands full of the smooth, soft skin. mattheo watches you so intensely, that you're almost shy under his gaze; his strong arms embrace you so close to him, lips bruising the skin of your neck, collarbone, chest (and for a moment, you wonder if wearing a bikini would be safe tomorrow, giving each reddening, becoming purple hickey left on you) as he whispers against your wet skin. 'so pretty— such a good girl for me, aren't you? riding your husband so, so well. so wet and tight for me, huh? moan for me, baby. let me hear all of your pretty moans, hm?'

honeymoon!mattheo who is so gentle with you afterwards. without even having to ask, mattheo carried you back to the bedroom, patting your body with gentle movements so that the towel absorbs the water from your body, cooing at you. despite your tired demeanor, sore legs recovering on the comfortable mattress— mattheo riddle is all too energetic and blissfully satisfied, massaging your smooth skin with a body cream of yours; and trust me, it takes everything within him to not tease you, holding back any 'fun' comments about you after three rounds that got you absolutely wrecked.

honeymoon!mattheo who dedicated a part of these few days to read one of your favorite books. you see, mattheo riddle isn't really one to take reading as a hobby; at most, mattheo would have fun spending the afternoon at some bookstores to read bd, mainly about superheroes, or the ones that blaise brought from school breaks to lend to him. apart from that, mattheo's hobbies mostly revolve around drawing or listening to music— but he's making an effort for you, alright?! he is! look, he read five pages today, while you were tanning!

honeymoon!mattheo who brought a camera with him for the sole purpose to have photos with you during these weeks; as much as he adores all of your wedding photos, either with you, his best friends and other guests— this honeymoon with you must have physical evidence, not wanting to depend on his memory alone. mattheo plans to show most of them (*cough* the appropriate ones) to your children, if you ever have kids together, that is. the camera and him are present at the same place, at all times; like symbiosis, mattheo has the camera by his side to never lose the opportunity of a good photo of you.

photos of you while you're sleeping, dressing up or changing clothes, while you're relaxing on a chair near the pool to tan, swimming, at night with a flower tucked on your hair— one that mattheo picked up for you and fixed behind your ear. mattheo riddle will come back home with enough photos to decorate a wall. there's photos of you two together, too; silly selfies with you, some of them while you're sleeping by his side or on his chest, others blissfully taken by other tourists who offered such a favor. mattheo loves every single one of them.

honeymoon!mattheo who discovered that breakfast could be delivered in bedroom, four days after waking up a little earlier to shower, dress up and go downstairs to have the first meal of the day. ever since mattheo discovered such a wonder, never again— fuck that. he's having breakfast on the bed with you, requesting the staff to put an extra portion of your favorite fruits, which he'd then feed to you while the two of you are lazying on the bed after a shower, talking about whatever.

honeymoon!mattheo who suddenly doesn't hate that much anymore. at hogwarts, first years were a headache; little tiny humans that mattheo had to be careful to not bump against, or else they'd fall to the floor and god forbid professor mcgonagall saw it, should anyone accuse him of bullying. first years were also troublesome at the bloody hogwarts' train, running around like hipper active insects— however, this one little boy that came running up to you, giving you a flower? mattheo riddle couldn't help but smile, a smug grin on his lips as he crouches down:

m : hey, little dude— this beautiful woman is taken. hasn't your mother told you that flirting with a married woman is wrong? the husband might get you in trouble, you know.

honeymoon!mattheo who would complain a little less about the kids running around or simply existing around the hotel. there was this one little girl he saw at the pool, while you were getting drinks; curly hair, soft cheeks that remind him of your beautiful face— mattheo riddle is a weak man, and ever since then... baby fever. suddenly, the idea of a tiny human that is the perfect mixture of you and him, doesn't sound so scary anymore. i mean, if you and him ever had a baby, it'd be the most beautiful kid to exist; mattheo reasons that not having such a blessed child would be illegal, a heartbreaking loss to this world! (correction: a small sized demon that inherits mattheo riddle's troublemaker nature, and your charm that'll get them out of trouble ever. single. time.)

honeymoon!mattheo who tries at least once every single drink and cocktail at the bar. and more than that, makes you try them with him, which becomes a game of creating a tier list of the whole menu. mattheo will get you the colorful ones, being aware of your taste— and should you dislike alcoholic drinks, well, mattheo is a man that is unknowingly considerate, making sure to taste the drink first (so that he's sure that it tastes good, according to your preferences, of course), before giving it to you. lowkey, mattheo riddle who becomes a bit obsessed with those drinks straight from the coconuts— he might have like, seven photos of that, some of them being selfies with you.

honeymoon!mattheo who takes you dancing. hands on your hips, feeling as you sway them, gripping at them each time that mattheo riddle has to take a deep breath to not get a hard-on in the middle of the dancefloor. if possible, he'll learn how to dance the bachata with you— be it by a free class at the hotel or some bar, or even just by staring at an experienced couple dancing with ease. mattheo would be so happy to dance with you, twirling you around and pulling you closer to him, your noses brushing as mattheo looks at you with such intensity; the love of his life, this goddess in his arms. physically can't listen to one of those latino songs without immediately pulling you to dance a little with him; fuck the stares that you might receive.

honeymoon!mattheo who wants to live right here, at mexico.

m : fuck england, let's ditch london.

🗯️ : mattheo, darling, we can't do that.

m : why not?! here's the best— no rain, no people bothering us. why can't we just fuck and chill every day like we do here?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🌿 ’

౨ৎ spend the summer of a lifetime with me ♡ ͡

let me take you to the place of my dreams . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— ever since i posted my masterlist i've been receiving some requests; i didn't expect so many so soon! tysm for reading and requesting to my blog; i'll do my best to write and post each of them asap. ♡

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[icyg4l]

PAC: Your Future Partner's Love Language

Hello beautiful people, tonight marks the third post of the week regarding love! (meaning I kept my promise, yay!) I have a sale going on tomorrow, so be sure to tune into that. If you would look to book a reading, please read my guidelines and then dm me! If you have any inquiries, also dm me! Without further ado, please select your pile!

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile 1: I feel like you’re the independent woman trope, Pile One. This person will be attracted to you because you have your own. But that doesn't mean that they won’t be giving. This isn’t a stingy lover at all. I get Cancer/Capricorn/Aquarius energy from this person. I see this person will be big on gift giving. They will also shower you with compliments. They don’t expect this in return, to be honest. They’re also really big on paying the tab every time at restaurants. I feel like this person is calm and collected. This person wants to follow in their family’s footsteps. They’re big on marriage and doing things the proper way. They would like to show you off, this is part of their love language as well. And lastly, this person really likes to see people stand on business. Part of their love language is helping you plan and put things into action. They’re going to be your number one fan. Expect roses and romance with this person, Pile One.

Cards Used: The Hierophant, The Hermit, 4 of Discs, Queen of Swords

extras: tacos. party pooper. mellow. skilla baby. carrie underwood. bartleby.

Pile 2: So when I was shuffling for this pile, I heard the term ‘yapper’. This person really likes to talk, even if it’s about nothing. I thought of this guy who I sit next to in my English class, and he says whatever comes to mind. I feel like this person just really wants a listening ear since they didn’t get that when they were younger. They could have been the type of kid to have “talks too much” on their report card. They have big Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Virgo energy. This person just wants to be heard and valued for once, they feel taken for granted. This person has the tendency to go down memory lane as well. They also have a thing for tickling. They honestly seem like a big kid. They are really big on humor. Their sense of humor can be deadpan or they could say a lot of one-liner punchlines. Be prepared to laugh a lot. I think this person values one-on-one time a lot as well, Pile Two.

Cards Used: Judgment, Ace of Swords, Death (RX), Eight of Discs (RX), 7 of Discs (RX)

extras: bright teeth. nice style. black beanies. toby from this is us. “kiss the ring.” wrestlers.

Pile 3: Oh man, the chemistry is hot here. This person really likes PDA. They enjoy physical touch. They want you to find any reason to touch them & they want to do the same for you. This person wants everyone to know that y’all are together. They could be a little clingy, let them know if that’s too much for you. I get the feeling that this could be their first real relationship so please be gentle with them. I feel like this person is like a big teddy bear. They really enjoy hugs, sharing drinks with you, cuddling, hand-holding and sloppy kisses. It all makes their world go round. You guys will be engaging in a lot of sexual activity together so please protect yourselves! Overall, this person is not shy. This person is quite the flirt, very physical. They give big Leo, LIbra, Aries energy. You guys are going to be like that one couple in high school that got detention for kissing by the lockers. People might be uncomfortable by your dynamic because you’re so physical with one another, but fuck it!

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, The Chariot, Princess of Cups, The Lovers, Ace of Cups.

extras: sweet face. wink. “hold me.” soft hands. racy. lord farquaad. monochromatic. skin-to-skin.

Pile 4: Can we say dramaaaa? I feel like your person is really dramatic. They’re the epitome of go big, go home. They give off Pisces, Leo, Sagittarius energy. They’re the epitome of male R&B singers in the early 2000s. This person has the best intentions but it can be overwhelming for you at times. Know that this person is doing their best. This is a part of who they are, there’s no faking this personality. I think this person would literally do anything for you. If you were to ask for a cookie from the store, they would bring you the cookie, a sandwich, a drink, chips and flowers just to make your day. This person is really good at planning parties and spending money. If you were to have a birthday coming up, they would have a surprise party planned with all of your favorite people there and thoughtful gifts. This person wants to give you the world, honestly. Don’t feel embarrassed by the things that this person does because you deserve it. They do it out of purity, but you can tell them to tone it down if it’s really getting to you.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Fool, Justice, 7 of Cups, Ace of Discs, Princess of Cups

extras: my way by usher. “It’s camp.” new edition. clown colors. teezo touchdown. rich uncle vibes.

[waldau-archived]

wanna be yours — chwe hansol | 2,208 words | fluff

i'm asexual as fuck (the irony) but friends with benefits to lovers is a delicious trope i would love to see more of. title from i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.

gender neutral reader. college!au. warnings: mentions of sex but no actual descriptions of anything. also reader is mentioned not to like coffee, because i dislike coffee. soz <3

the last person you expected to see tonight was chwe vernon, dressed in his usual bomber jacket and slacks. yet here he is, crashing into the empty place on the sofa next to you. he doesn't say a word, simply squeezes his eyes shut and throws a hand over his eyes. dino keeps talking like there's been no interruption, but you're hyperaware of the way your legs are almost touching.

you and vernon didn't really run in the same circles before you got together, so it is odd to see him here amidst all of your friends.

"hey," you say, ducking down so you don't disturb the others.

"hurts," he says back, pressing his face into your shoulder. you look around, but no one really seems to be paying attention to you, some of them engrossed in beer pong and the others making idle conversation.

"what does?"

"my...head."

you wince in sympathy. "drank a lot?"

he shakes his head. "not that much. but i can't find seungkwan, and he has the keys to our dorm."

"so you decided to find...me?"

"better you than anyone else."

you don't respond to that, and you can tell by the way his head grows heavier on your shoulder within the next few minutes means he's asleep.

the first few months of your relationship with vernon were based solely on sex. it's the usual story — you met at another of minghao's parties (really, a catalyst for trouble), and hit it off surprisingly well with vernon. there was something you saw between you both and following it ended up with you in his bedroom.

when it was time for you to leave, it somehow didn't feel awkward. so you decided to test the arrangement another time. and another. and it's led you to whatever you have now, which is arguably more complicated than a normal relationship.

for starters, the past few weeks vernon's been visiting your dorm haven't been about sex. no, you've had actual arguments about which lord of the rings movie is the best and why shrek deserves yet another sequel. you've even baked with him, for heaven's sake (which ended not so well).

it's been less about sex and more about you fighting the urge to cuddle vernon when he throws an arm over your shoulder, or when he shares his blanket with you when you're feeling cold (which happens to be your blanket in the first place).

long story short, you like him, and he makes you feel some type of way you can't possibly let him know.

vernon twitches a bit when you pick up your cup from the table, toying with it but not actually drinking from it. you rest your hand on his thigh, hoping he doesn't wake up, while you contribute to the conversation every now and then. you pointedly ignore the looks dino's giving you.

this means nothing. vernon only found you because he knows you the most out of everyone here. he'd be in his own place by now if he'd found seungkwan.

still, there's something about the fact that he trusts you enough to fall asleep on you in front of people he's not entirely familiar with. that has to count for something, right?

people keep entering and leaving the room as the party goes on into the night. when the person next to you gets up to leave, you shift a bit down the sofa and pull vernon's head into your lap so his neck doesn't hurt when he wakes up. dino asks if he should wait for you before he leaves, but you make him go. it's not often you get to be like this with vernon, and you'd much rather he got back in one piece.

it's only when your back twinges and the music begins dying down and you remember you have an essay due next week you haven't begun working on that you decide to wake him up. you look down at the boy in your lap. he looks so much at ease, face devoid of the frown he sports every now and then. you feel almost guilty waking him up.

"vernon," you say, pushing his shoulder. "get up, both of us need to sleep."

vernon blinks his eyes open slowly. "wha'?"

"you. me. sleep. now."

"you want to sleep together? now?"

you trip on your words. "that's not what— i just need my sleep, sol." you bite your tongue at the name that slips out of your mouth. he doesn't mind his close friends calling him that, but you don't think you're there. or you'll ever get there.

"oh," he says, pushing himself up to sit.

"feeling better?"

"much," he says, running a hand through his hair. "but i had to tell you something, actually." he looks shifty. that gets your attention — vernon is many things, but he's never hesitant.

"i, um. i think we should stop seeing each other."

that shocks you the way falling into an icy cold pool would, the water taking no time to permeate your clothes and sting your skin with the cold and rendering you somewhat unable to breathe when it finally hits. "i'm sorry?"

"i said, i think we should stop seeing each other. not that the sex was bad," he says hastily, and you wince. that's a weird thing to say. "no, really. it's been great. it's just...i like someone, like, actually like them, and i feel being in this relationship would be weird."

you can't resist. "do i know them?"

vernon meets your eyes briefly before they dart away to the blank television screen in front of you. "i guess you could say that."

you rack your brains for who it could be. some names pop up in your mind: a girl from his friend group you've spoken to a few times, another from the library, the guy in english lit — but none of them shine as the number one contender for his affections.

you're one of the few close friends vernon has, but it doesn't matter. of course he wouldn't like you like that.

"fine," you say, feeling anything but. "okay."

vernon's looking at you like you're an injured puppy.

"i hope you get with whoever it is," you say, aware you sound a bit snappish, but you don't care. it's not your fault for liking someone as brilliant as vernon, only to be reminded that he doesn't really like you back. you're certain he likes your body more than he likes you, anyway.

"that's it?"

"what?"

"you're fine with it? just like that?"

you frown. "i'm not going to stop you if you want to go. we're not together. you should be with someone you really like."

"sweetheart..."

you shudder at the nickname that falls from his lips. you always like hearing it, more so the fact that vernon says it unconsciously. but now it sounds like a nail scraping against a chalkboard. you're not the sweetheart he wants. "i have a couple of classes in the morning."

"wait. it's a saturday."

"so?"

"we don't have classes on saturdays."

"yeah, well, that's you," you say, pulling out your phone to check the time. it's much later than you expected it to be. "dino's in the lab on weekends and i promised to help him out this time."

"listen—"

"i'll be glad if you let me go, vernon. i shouldn't have stayed this late in the first place."

"why are you acting so weirdly?"

you look up to see him frowning at you. why are you acting so weird, huh?

"i'm not. i just— i don't have to justify anything to you." you know you're being ruder than the situation calls for, but vernon is one of a kind. he'd taken to you despite the fact that you weren't one of the "popular" ones when you started out, and you'd managed to find a lot of common ground with him.

but the fact that you thought he'd like you back was stupidity on your part. you curse dino for hinting vernon might like you back.

"i'm sorry," you say, resting a hand on vernon's arm for a moment. he moves back at the touch and your stomach sinks even further. "i'm sorry this didn't work out. i hope you get with whoever you like. i'm just...tired. a bit. i hope this doesn't mean we'll...stop being friends?" it's a stupid thing to ask, but it's your last resort.

"i would," vernon says, crossing his arms, "if they weren't so dense."

"what?"

"i'd love to get with them if they realized i don't call anyone else sweetheart."

you freeze. you become aware of the people still present in the room, someone laughing, bottles clinking, bass still thumping, but— sweetheart?

"what are you trying to say, vernon?" you ask, making your voice as steady as possible.

"i'm trying to say that the person i want to get with doesn't really understand what flirting is."

you almost drop your phone. "no. vernon, you're not doing this. you don't mean it."

"i do."

"vern—"

"i'm not drunk anymore, see? and i do mean it. i don't just want us to be friends with benefits. i want us to be more. i want to take you out to dinner and stay up hearing you talk about why freud is the worst person you've ever had to read about. i want to watch whatever the heck it is you like. i want to date you. if you want me to, that is."

you're more surprised at how lucidly he's speaking, without a pause, more than what he's saying. but the meaning of his words slams into you like a tidal wave hardly a minute later. "if i want to, he says," you laugh helplessly.

vernon raises a perfect eyebrow. "well?"

you sigh and fiddle with your phone cover. "i don't— i've never been in a real relationship. not a long term one."

vernon moves closer to you, your knees now pressed against each other despite the fact that there's no one else on the sofa you're sharing. you can't even bring yourself to care about all the other people in the room. "really?"

you nod, feeling a strange sense of embarrassment creep up your neck. vernon simply lays a hand on your thigh. "hey. you know that's not a bad thing, right?"

you shrug.

"it's not," he repeats, rubbing his thumb across your knee. "and it doesn't bother me. is that what's troubling you?"

you shake your head. "you're just...the first person to want to be with me, even if it's just for sex."

"hey, it hasn't been all for sex. what about all those movie marathons we had? and that one time i helped you bake a cake for jun?"

"you mean you tried?"

vernon flicks your forehead, but moves in immediately to kiss it. the slight touch has you burning up, and you pray he doesn't feel it. "yeah. tried. but that's the thing, isn't it? it wasn't always about the sex for me. was it...the same for you?"

you can't get yourself to lie now. "it was," you say, putting your phone down and taking his free hand, fiddling with his fingers. "it is. i didn't mean to clam up like that. it's just...i want this with you, too, vernon. i've spent so long thinking about it. i'm sorry."

vernon sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "don't apologize, sweetheart. and it's a relief. i've never felt this way with anyone before. also, i've only had a couple of flings before you, but i really want this to go somewhere. and i want to try it with you."

you try to speak, but nothing comes out. you bury your face in your hands. "aren't you supposed to be drunk?" you ask.

"you always sober me up, sweetheart."

you shake your head and let it fall against the back of the sofa, vernon's hand cushioning the fall. there's silence for a while before he speaks.

"you know, no one's like that."

"like what?" you ask, slightly affronted. "is that supposed to be an insult or a pick-up line?"

vernon laughs a breathy laugh. "no friend with benefits offers to look after their partner when they're bored or drunk or whatever. and they certainly don't show up to basement music shows. you're...really the only person who gets me, you know? but now that i know you, like, really like me..."

"like you back."

you love his grin. "can i take you out on a date?"

"i...don't drink coffee," you say breathlessly.

vernon raises an eyebrow.

"milkshakes. or i could drink coffee, maybe. you like it, so i can try."

"there. again. you're too nice for your own good."

"it's just...me. i can't help— mmph," you get cut off when vernon leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. and another. you push him away before someone notices and teases you.

"i'm going to get some sleep, and we'll meet tomorrow. at a good place. not in my bed."

"you mean today."

"do you want me to cancel on you?"

"no," vernon laughs against your hair. "tomorrow. anything you want."

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 6

The sequel is coming along great I just have one more part to do and it'll be done. Sweet Home Indiana is nearing its end too.

Heads up! I will be going on vacation on Tuesday and won't be back until next week. So no WIP Wednesday this week as that is the day of my niece's graduation and I will be away from laptop all day.

I will still be uploading chapters and should be able to do WIP Wednesday next week. But if not I'll let you know.

In this we have the Corroded Coffin boys being silly and a wild Dustin appears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Eddie rolled up to band practice fashionably late as always. The other three boys were doing a sound check and making sure everything was in order.

Gareth looked up first. “Did you bring the hearts?” he asked excitedly.

Eddie held up his bag and the other boys cheered.

“So how are we going to do this?” Eddie asked flopping on the sofa after gently setting his sweetheart to the side. “Do we want to do the hearts first or practice first?”

They all look around at each for a moment.

“Let’s get the heart thing out of the way,” Jeff suggested, “get it out of the way so we can focus on practicing.”

“Sounds good to me, man,” Gareth said. “In case practice runs over or some shit.”

Eddie pulled his backpack closer and began digging through it. He pulled out the hearts that he’d put in a plastic baggie so they wouldn’t get bent in the maw that was his bag.

He tossed the bag onto the table in front of them and then dug around for his notebook. He pulled it out with a bunch of pens.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured, “but I’d recommend changing up your handwriting a couple of times so he doesn’t realize they’re from the same four people.”

“We were doing anonymous and initials, right?” Brian asked, picking up the bag and opening it up.

Eddie lit up, a huge smile on his face. “I actually had an idea about that. I was thinking of famous groups with four dudes in it and I thought it would be hilarious if we mixed it up a bit with some of those to avoid the whole repetition thing.”

Jeff licked his top lip. “Show us what you’ve got,” he said jutting out his chin.

He opened up his notebook and flipped to the right page. “Alright, so I was thinking the Three Musketeers plus D’Artagnan.”

“Who would be who?” Gareth asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Gareth is absolutely D’Artagnan,” Brian said without hesitation. “No question.��

Jeff straightened up and looked over at him in confusion. “Why’s that?”

“Because my dearest Jeffy,” Eddie said with a grin, “because he’s the youngest and not an original member. Therefore D’Artagnan.”

Gareth and Brian glanced at each. Brian shrugged and Gareth blinked a moment or two before he shrugged, too.

“Yeah, that tracks.”

“I’ll take Aramis,” Eddie said with a grin. “The smooth talker with religious trauma.”

The other boys just cackled.

“I’ll be Porthos,” Brian said. “The compulsive liar with a flare for the dramatic.”

“Why am I left with the dude with serious romantic wo–” Jeff stopped. “Right, scratch that. I’m Athos.”

They cackled again. Eddie had had some wild crushes, but it was nothing on Jeff. He even had a slightly tragic love story. He’d actually dated Vicki Carmichael before she became a popular kid and hanging out with Steve’s crowd. They had both loved metal music, but Jeff was pretty sure she stopped listening to it once she joined the cool kids.

“And I have a list of other ones too,” Eddie said breaking into the resulting silence. “The four winds from Greek mythology. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...um...let’s see...” he looked at the notebook again. “The members of Metallica. The four horsemen of the apocalypse–”

Jeff winced. “Probably not that one, man. It’s for Valentine’s day and that kinda screams the opposite.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment and then scratched out that idea. “Fair enough.”

“The four hobbits from Lord of the Rings?” Gareth suggested.

“Yes!” Brian cried. “I get to be Samwise!”

Jeff cackled. “Gareth and Eddie are sooo Merry and Pippin!”

“Oh god! Yes! Which one is which, though?” Brian said joining in the laughter.

“I’m Merry, of course,” Eddie said proudly. “I’m the instigator and Gareth goes where I lead.”

Gareth grumped in the corner, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them. “But that makes Jeff Frodo though.”

Jeff straightened up, smug. “I could handle that.”

Eddie shook his head at his friends. “All right, also on my list are the Ghostbusters and The A-Team.”

The other boys shook their heads at either suggestion but they had a pretty good list anyway. Plus their D&D names sprinkled in here and there and they’ve got in the bag.

They spent the next half hour coming up with nice things about Steve. Eddie did have nix a couple of their ideas because they came off as stalker-esque. Which was not the look they were going for.

****

To say that Eddie got a kick out of seeing Steve light up every time he opened his locker and more pink hearts fluttered out of it was an understatement.

The goofy smile the former jock got on his face was worth every second of the time they’d spent on the project.

And it was working, too. That was the really impressive part.

Even Tommy H. was baffled.

“How the hell are you getting so many pink hearts, Harrington?” he said on Friday, just four days into Eddie’s plan.

Steve shrugged in that dorky way that made Eddie’s heart stop. “I guess people are deciding to hell with social constructs and stupid cliques and are telling me even if they don’t dare to be open about that they still like me.”

Tommy’s mouth open and closed like a goldfish then he turned around and stormed off.

Eddie lean against the lock above Steve. “Back to being king again, huh, Stevie?”

“Not really,” he said, closing his locker and standing up. “Most of them are anonymous or fake names. But there are a few that real names.”

“You think someone is stuffing the ballot box as it were?” Eddie asked, worried the jig was up.

Steve shook his head. “At least I don’t think so. But it’s sad that they think they have to hide who they are to tell me that they still think I’m a cool dude or whatever.”

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie said, pushing off from the locker, “I think you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Steve blushed and mumbled his thanks.

God, did Eddie just want to bite those flushed cheeks. They were just too cute.

“It’s worth a lot, actually,” Steve whispered. He stood up and shouldered his backpack. “Catch you later, Eds.”

Shit that little nickname had Eddie’s heart doing overtime.

****

Steve was outside the middle school waiting for Dustin to come out. His mom had asked Steve to pick him because she had to stay after hours at work for a meeting.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he hummed to the music in his head. He could have turned on the radio but Dustin hated his music didn’t like him blaring it for the whole school to hear.

His eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror to see his backpack on the backseat. He wanted to go over the ones he got today. There had been some really good ones. Ones that melted his insides and turned them to goo.

He bit his lip and checked the mirror again. He looked at his watch and he still had a couple minutes until the bell rang.

Steve whirled around and grabbed the bag. He ripped it open and pulled out his trapper keeper. Tucked in the front pocket were the hearts. He ran his fingers over the outline the hearts made on the plastic pocket.

He pulled out the hearts and read over each one. Tracing the names of the givers, thinking about each name and wondering where they were from.

There was a thump on his window startling him. He looked up to see Dustin making faces at him through the glass.

Steve shook his head and unlocked the passenger door to let the twerp in.

“Looking at pink hearts, Steve?” Dustin asked with the shake of his head. “So pathetic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and tried to put the hearts back in the folder, but Dustin snatched them from him and wouldn’t let him take them back.

“Come on, man!” Steve whined. “They’re none of your business.”

“I want to see which girls are giving the Steve Harrington Valentine’s hearts,” Dustin said, wagging his eyebrows.

“Dude, give it up,” he growled. “The pink hearts are friendship hearts, the red ones are the romantic ones. So give it back.”

The younger teen cocked his head to the side and said, “No.”

Steve folded his arms and glared at him.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?” Dustin asked after they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“Not until you give them back.”

Dustin just shrugged. “It’s your funeral if we get home after my mom does.”

Steve threw his arms in the air, but turned the engine and started the car toward the Hendersons.

“These are actually really sweet, Steve,” Dustin said after a couple of minutes. “I like the idea of friendship hearts. That way you don’t accidentally send the wrong message.”

Steve just shrugged.

“You do know that some of these are fake names, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes and dared to look over at him. “Yes, of course I do. I am familiar with D’Artagnan after you named a fucking demodog after him, thanks.”

Dustin cocked his head to the side and then shrugged. “That’s fair. What you probably don’t know is that Aramis, Porthos, and Athos are the names of the Three Musketeers.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s cool.” They hit a stop sign and Steve looked over and pulled out one. “What about this one? Tommy H. thinks it’s short for Kassie, but none of the girls at our school spell it like that.”

Dustin took the heart and looked at it. “Kas. Kas. Yeah, okay. That does sound familiar. Can I get back to you on that one?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Steve pulled up to curb to let Dustin out. “You got your key? If you don’t, you can hang out with me until your mom gets home.”

Dustin began rummaging around in his bag and Steve snatched the hearts away before he could bend them.

The kid pulled out his keys with a triumphant, “Eureka!”

Steve shook his head. “You are such a dweeb. Go on, get.”

“Bye, Steve!”

“Next time say thank you, asshole!” Steve called out the window.

Dustin turned around and gave him the double middle finger.

Steve shook his head and drove off. Why he loved that kid, he had no idea.

When he got home he pulled out the little notebook and placed the pink hearts in with the rest. All but the one from Kas. Those he kept in his wallet. He really couldn’t place why. There was just something about what they said that made him feel warm and not in the fuzzy friendship way that the others did.

There was the first one:

-Stevie I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you. Kas

Which Steve loved but the others were just as sweet.

-Stevie You have a great laugh, you don’t have to hide it. Kas

-Stevie That shirt today really brings out the color in your eyes. Kas

And Steve’s personal favorite:

-Stevie Each day is brighter because you’re in it. Kas

There was one for each day he got hearts in his locker so he assumed it was all the same person.

He slid it next to the other three hearts in the billfold portion of his wallet and put the wallet next to his keys on his desk. Then he put the little notebook back, careful to make sure it was well hidden.

He wasn’t sure what his dad would do about the mementos but Steve really didn’t want to find out.

He was really going to miss getting the hearts over the weekend. They really had become the highlight of his day.

He sighed and buckled down to work on his homework. It wasn’t as though he had anything better to do with his time. He wasn’t invited to any parties, he didn’t have friends to hang out with, and the people who would hang with him were fourteen year olds and they all had bedtimes.

He briefly thought about calling Eddie, but the guy had friends, unlike Steve and was probably doing something with them. Probably that nerd game that Eddie had a club for.

He buried his head in his hands.

Steve sighed. Fuck his life was depressing as shit.

With another sigh, he resigned himself to another lonely weekend.

****

Part 7 Part 8

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[shapard]

hihii! I was wondering if I could request a Lucifer x fem!reader, where the reader was a nun in her life and still is kinda one in hell but dedicates herself to lucifer yk what I mean? :3 I’m sorry if this isn’t really in detail!

Demons

Lucifer x Sinner!Nun!femreader

A/n: Heyy! I hope this meets your expectations!

Soft Lucifer, Social awkward Lucifer, Nun reader

Part 1 < Part 2

You hate it here. 

Hell was full of sinners and Demons. The ground is covered in crimson blood. The blood bleeds into your clothes, leaving the white in pure red.

Violence was the only way Sinners communicate. 

You were mad at the Lord themself. You prayed each day and night. Always followed the rules and gave up every rich thing in your life. All to serve the father.

Many people thought you were too young to pursue this path but to you it was a blessing itself. 

One day, the worst and best thing that ever happened to you. You saved a life and you died instead. 

You waited and waited for the light of Jesus and God. So that they can take you in their hands and lift you to paradise. Yet after all you've done, you were falling.

The void of pure darkness ate you and threw you down to the most feared place. Hell.

The compact on thee ground hurt as if you died again. The force knocked you completely out. Luck was on your side and gifted you a home. At home two demons were leaving and let you stay in their old house.

You'll never forget them.

One day you took a walk in a different area, trying to find a loophole anywhere. Just one sign to get to those purely gates. To your dismay, nothing.

Instead of worrying too much you went to a hell’s Library. Reading through every book to get Information about this place. 

The Lore of Lucifer is very Interesting.

The father’s Favorite banished from heaven because of the Forbidden Apple. As you kept reading the more it Fascinated you. 

Why did Lucifer give Eve the Apple? 

How is Heaven? 

The more you found out about the king of hell the more obsessed you got.

Who exactly is Lucifer Morningstar? The Lord you served so long for let you down so easily, but would Lucifer? Too many questions spiraled in your head, it started to pound in pain.

The library was closing soon, so you stuffed the books into your rucksack and left the place in a fast pace. 

The book may not give you the answers you need but Lucifer could. Without wasting any seconds, you wander around the so-called pride ring in Hell. 

It seems there are 7 rings like the 7 sins. One of them being Lucifer. The fun part you learned is that the appearance in hell has something to do with the way you die.

Your appearance resembled a black cat hybrid, you mainly looked humane just with some extras. A pair of cat ears, claws and a tail that swayed behind you.

Finally, after headaches, Mental Breakdowns, and research you got an idea how to get Lucifers attention.

Praying. A very simple yet tiring process. After weeks of preparation you got everything that you needed. Your body shook under fear as you lit up the candles.

You don't feel that confident anymore. Praying to God is something different. They were pure and was the creator of everything. But Lucifer was the pure evil. The complete opposite.

You were in the center of a pentagram that was drawn with your and a goat’s blood. The flames around you were so hot you thought you were in the middle of a fire. 

With a shaky breath you closed your eyes and sat down on your calves. Another deep breath and you began your prayer. 

When you were finished the candles were burned out but nothing besides the wax that coated the floor.

With a sigh you rubbed your hands on your face. The whole procedure was for nothing.

Exhausted you took the candles and threw it in the dustbin. “Was worth a shot.” You said disappointed as you sat on a very old bed. A loud crash sends you out of your little sweet daydream about kittens. You jumped up and grabbed the next object, a Fan.

Curse words echoed through your Livingroom. “Who’s there?” You shouted as you switched the lights on. A short figure with a huge hat came in the view.

“Fuck! eh... Sorry for the mess.” Confused at his words you looked around seeing your Livingroom really a complete mess. Nothing was at its usual place.

The guy watched as your jaw dropped a bit. “What in the name of Jesus did you do?!” He smirked up to you and you raised the fan above your head. “Why do you have a fan in your hand?” He asked pointing with his clawed finger at your fan. “Because of people that break into private homes, like you!” With a snap of his fingers the fan in your hand vanished into small sparkles. 

“Technically I didn’t break into your house.” The stranger said as he swung his cane around. You raised your eyebrow at him, “You obviously did.” What the hell is with those sinners.

He sighs in frustration and leans onto his cane, “Let me re-introduce myself. I’m Lucifer Morningstar. The devil you summoned.” His sharp red eyes focused on your e/c ones and his Pupils dilated a bit. The more you two looked in the eyes the hotter and thicker the tension got. 

“You’re Lucifer.” You fast to break the thick ice. You don’t want to focus about the growing desire for the Archangel in front of you. Lucifer smirk grew only more. You didn’t think this was even possible. “Yes, the one and only.” He winked and a shiver went down your spine.

“of course.” As the sin of pride, he’s doing a great job so far. 

“For what do you need me, darling?” Lucifer asked and you immediately asked him the question that is burning your mind. “I have Question my Lord.” Pink hue glazed Lucifer's face as you said my lord. “Ehm,” He grabbed his collar and pulled it with his claw, “Of course darling… We- I mean I have too much… No, fuck- I have a lot of time reserved for you! Hehehe.” Lucifers sudden overtalking caught you surprised. 

The King of hell, Lucifer Morningstar gets nervous when you call him My Lord. 

“Okay first my most Important question. How do I get in heaven? I don’t know what I have done in my life to end up here.” Lucifer raised sassy his eyebrow giving you a side eye. “Darling. You’re in hell and there is no ticket up. Believe me.” He tapped with his cane on the floor, “There’s no way.” He pressed again. 

But you don’t give up. 

“Then give me a meeting. I can prove that I’m innocent. I was a nun almost my whole life and I died saving someone’s life.” Lucifer’s laugh was ego scratching and you glared at him. “I could get you the meeting sweetheart, yet it wouldn’t change anything. But in exchange you have to do something for me."

“What?” You asked as Lucifer stepped in front of you, his face so close that it’s brushing your face. He breathed in and you smelled so divine. “only time will tell.” And just like that he disappeared. Confused you looked around. 

“That was weird…” 

A/n: I'm ALIVE!! Anyways Part 2 will be out soon<3

💫

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[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 3

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: none for this one, I think

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Unedited for now! Holy moly, sorry for taking so long on this one. I was kinda drowning in uni work the past week. The next chapter should come sooner, I hope. Also just wanted to say thank you so much to those who take the time to comment!! I really really appreciate the kind words. You guys are super sweet. Mwa mwa.

The inky black fireworks exploded in the distance as you were led back into the underground chambers of the arena. Your eyes are relieved to escape the infrared sun. Heavy doors open for you once more. The na-Baron stands, chest exposed, skin slick with sweat under the artificial light. His blown-out eyes hone in on you as you enter. He makes his way to you holding the blood-stained handkerchief.

"Did you enjoy the show, my lady?" His chest heaves and you feel his heavy breaths as he leans into your ear, voice even more raspy, "Aren't you something, little hawk."

He holds the cloth up as if giving it to you but when you reach for the handkerchief he snatches it away.

You sigh and lift your veil, a sweet smile plastered on your face, "A most impressive demonstration, na-Baron. You are as formidable as they say."

Feyd-Rautha takes a moment to scan your face. He doesn't know what your game is but he wants to play.

His breathing has settled. He raises a hand to reach for your cheek but you move past him. You walk towards a table displaying knives laid over a cloth. You pick one up to examine. The blades remain uncleaned, the blood from earlier in the day already beginning to dry. You sense they will be kept that way.

"You have good form. Clean, precise," you say, holding the dagger in a reverse grip, edge out. "You enjoy it, don't you?"

From behind, you feel Feyd-Rautha close the distance between you once again.

"Perhaps you enjoy it a little too much," you turn to him, "I'm sure you let him disarm you on purpose. For the show."

Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and allows himself a small smile. "You should return to the fortress, my lady. I have duties to attend to," he touches your armed hand and gently takes the knife from you, "and my uncle would like to see you."

Despite being shielded from the black sun, you elect to keep your veil for your lunch with the Baron. You excuse the chill running down your spine as the coldness of the high, stony walls of Fortress Harko as Iassa escorts you to the dining hall. Iassa kept her head bowed, you noticed, hands folded in front of her. She didn't need to look ahead to know the way.

When you arrive, large doors open to the sight of the Baron floating at the head of the table. There was only one other seat at the side of the table a few feet from him. Despite that, there was a full spread of food which his servants were already feeding him.

You had done your best to avoid the Baron in your short time here, but it seems this meeting was inevitable.

"Lady Atreides," his eyes turn toward you lazily. "Come. Eat."

"Good afternoon, Baron," you curtsy as you enter. Iassa bows to you and waits outside. You take your seat, "will it only be us, my lord? This seems a lavish spread for only two people."

"Are you calling me a glutton, girl?" he spats.

Your heart takes a beat as you try not to stare at his grotesquely large body.

"We are Harkonnen," his husky laugh rings through the room. "We may lavish as much as we please."

You exhale the breath you were holding and let out a small laugh. Of course. They were the richest house in the Landsraad. The Harkonnens must be accustomed to excess.

"Soon, child, you will be Harkonnen as well," he says in that gravelly voice that is so uncomfortably similar to Feyd-Rautha's. "Is that what you want?"

The question takes you aback. No one has ever asked you this question before. This betrothal has been decided for so long, you've never even thought to ask the question yourself. It was all you'd known. Your duty. You had never bothered to imagine what your life would have been if you weren't destined to marry the Harkonnen heir.

You regain your composure, "Baron, it is my honor to unite our Great-"

"Drop the act, child!" he barks. "Perhaps you fear me, but if you are to become 'family', I will not have the patience for charades. Speak plainly. Do you want to marry my nephew?"

This has been a most unusual exchange. At least compared to what you're used to. Always taught to be sweet and pleasant. You suppose you had nothing to lose, considering the Baron killing you would start an all-out war. You take a moment to think, and then a deep breath.

"I am a woman, dear Baron. There is not much for me in this life. Indeed, tales of your house's savagery are well-known throughout the systems, and in Caladan more than most. But had I not been betrothed to your nephew, I would only be married off to some other lord or count or whatever, gentler than Feyd-Rautha they may be," you swallow. "Perhaps, I could have been trained a Bene Gesserit sister. However, to become the wife of the heir to one of the most powerful houses in the known universe—there are worse fates."

The Baron stares, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He waves his servants away. "Eat, child. Waste not the food of one of the most powerful houses in the known universe."

He begins to glide towards the doors on his side of the hall and his servants scurry to lay down their forks and follow after him.

You look to the remaining servants in the dining hall, then to the mounds of food on the table. Your first dinner on Giedi Prime had felt suffocating with all the nobles around and Feyd-Rautha smugly breathing down your neck. You pile your plate high.

In your quarters, Iassa helps you out of your clothes and into a warm bath. You don't wait for her and begin scrubbing your skin with a rag yourself. Between the heat from the morning gladiator fights and your tense conversation with the Baron, you were happy to wash the sweat off your body.

"Is this alright, my lady?" Iassa is trying to wash your hair with the lightest touch, "Does it hurt you?"

"No, no. It's quite alright." You take over and she moves to begin scrubbing your legs.

You're grateful you brought bottles of your own hair soaps. You notice Iassa is intently observing how you washed your hair and you appreciate her wanting to learn. Although, you surmise she might not have a choice. Her black choker seems to stand out even more against her pale skin.

"How was your day, Iassa?" you say as you lather your hair.

She pauses in confusion. "It was quite alright, my lady," her voice is soft and polite.

"Do they treat you well?" you knew it was a futile question.

"I am property of House Harkonnen, my lady," she says as she pours more water into the grey stone bath, "I am treated appropriately."

"Yes, but do you mean appropriately as in well or appropriately as in—" your desperate attempt to make a friend seems to be slipping through your fingers. You let out an exasperated sigh, "I know it's only been a few days but, do I treat you well, Iassa?"

She takes a moment and smiles up at you, "My lady has been most gracious." You see in her eyes she means it.

"You were right about the na-Baron," you say, "he is formidable indeed."

"I'm pleased my lady was impressed," she wraps a robe around you as you rise from the bath.

"Well, I don't know about impressed," you say as you step out, "he is a decent fighter, certainly. Perhaps it is a difference in the fighting styles of our worlds."

After helping you dress, Iassa bows and leaves you to retire. Her grey robes flowing behind her.

Once alone, you find your father's dagger in your belongings. The Baron's earlier question comes back to you. Is that what you want? To marry Fayd-Rautha? That night, you sleep clutching the knife close to your heart.

When you awake the following morning, you are greeted by a servant girl bringing you breakfast.

"Where is Iassa?" you ask.

"She has been relieved, my lady," the girl looks even younger than Iassa, "I am Zora."

Your brow furrows, "What does that mean, 'relieved'?"

When Zora remains silent, you get up from the bed.

On the dark grey of your vanity, you notice a black strip of leather. A choker identical to your new servant's but it was unmistakable who it belonged to. Your mind ran through the whys and your blood began to boil.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove

[nanowrimo]

Write Meow! 4 Writing Tips Cats Teach Us

Did you know cats have a lot of wisdom about the writing process? It's because of their cat lifestyles! NaNo Participant Megan Jenkins lets us know what our wise cat friends can teach us about writing.

“Cats are too human-like,” my friend complained while explaining to my cat-lady-self why she’s a dog person. I laughed, but after pondering my cat’s behavior, I realized just how much cats can teach us about becoming a better human, and more importantly, a better writer. (Arguably.)

Here are a few writing lessons we can learn from cats.

1. Have a Routine

As someone who rolled her eyes at this advice for years, I still cannot believe that my cat hoodwinked me into a morning routine. 

My cat was right though. 

Writing for 15 minutes during my cat’s breakfast has me writing more than ever before. While 15 minutes may not seem like a lot, giving yourself prompts for the next session and having consistent sessions helps you accomplish more than you would think.

Also, cats are great accountability partners. If you stray from their routine, they will meow loudly and slap you with their paw. (Or is that just my cat?)

2. Take Breaks

Before my cat, my writing process was to write for hours at a time on a random weekend day. This process was exhausting and made me feel like I had to block an entire day for writing, which is becoming increasingly impossible. 

However, cats inherently know the importance of taking breaks and stepping away from screens, which is why they sit in front of our keyboards and computers when we spend too much time on them (I assume). 

One way to remember to take breaks is to participate in writing sprints, in which writers write together for a set time. 

For any fellow introverts, the Pomodoro Technique, in which you work for 25 minutes then break for 5 minutes with a longer break after four rounds, has been shown to increase productivity. 

You might hesitate to try sprints or Pomodoro like I did because you love to emerge yourself in your writing for hours. However, I have found that both methods have built my endurance, allowing me to write longer. 

Plus, the frequent breaks to entertain my cat prevent her from hijacking my keyboard. 

3. Prioritize Meals

Cats are grazers, meaning they eat several small meals throughout the day, which they do not like to miss. 

Unlike my cat, I skipped meals all the time. I couldn’t be like Pippin in The Lord of the Rings asking for second breakfast while on an important quest!

However, modeling my cat, I now prioritize my eating. While it may not work for everyone, eating throughout the day gives me energy to write after work, not just rewatch The Lord of the Rings.

Since you are likely not on a quest to eliminate all evil, try prioritizing eating, like cats (and hobbits) do, and see how it impacts your writing. 

4. Focus on the Present

Do you sometimes focus so much on the past or the future that you forget about the present? I do. With NaNoWriMo especially, I tend to over-plan and dwell on any minor failures. 

Cats don’t do this. Cats live in the present, and while cats learn from their past, they do not dwell on their failures or worry about the future. Instead, cats deal with problems when they arise.

Similarly, do not torture yourself if you have a bad writing day (or week or month) or worry about every what-if. Instead, use the past to improve your current writing session.

As NaNoWriMo begins, I hope what I have learned from cats’ behavior helps remind you to have a healthier relationship with writing, which is ultimately the goal of NaNoWriMo. Besides the 50k.

Megan is a business risk and control advisor at a financial institution. The rest of her time, she spends dreaming of fantastical places. Her love for language led her to obtain a BA in English with a concentration in professional writing and an MA in Technical Communication and Rhetoric. When she is not writing, reading, or editing, she also enjoys traveling, watching movies, and spending time with her family and cat, Sophie. Connect with her on Linkedin or Goodreads!

Photo by Pixabay

[readychilledwine]

Hiraeth (Elain's version)

Elain Archeron Week - Day 4 - Home

Summary - Longing for home brings Elain to search for happiness in places she least expects it

Warnings - Food fighting

A/N - A little late for @elainarcheronweek day 4! I apologize. One of my favorite things in SJM's series is specifically the found sisterhood she always seems to give her characters, and I'm very excited for Elain to find hers.

🌸Elain Week Masterlist🌸Master Masterlist🌸

The screaming from the kitchen was enough to make the Inner Circle run in, thoughts of the absolute worst happening in their minds. The scene that stood before them was the opposite of what they had in mind, though. 

Nuala was hiding, ducked behind the kitchen island as she threw flour at Elain. Elain had hidden behind a pantry door and quickly ducked before tossing a blueberry back at the shadow wraith. Cerridwen was stuck between them, ingredients raining on her as she tried to dodge things and threw partially cracked eggs at both females.

The normally sparkling kitchen was covered with ingredients and ringing with laughter. Everyone looked to Azriel, silently inferring he would have to be the one to break it up, but the male stood there, rapidly shaking his head with a soft smile.

The twins needed this, Elain needed this. Elain for months now had been stuck in this state of limbo. Nesta had found sisterhood in Emerie and Gwyn, her time now occupied by them and books. Feyre had found it in Mor and Amren, quiet giggles shared between the 3 of them. But Elain, sweet Elain had been alone. She ached for the feeling of home. For a place she never knew. 

She was happy for her sisters, undeniably. Feyre had sacrificed so much, so her happiness was something Elain celebrated. Nesta has fought to recover and better herself, so to Elain the new friendships made sense. 

But it is lonely when you watch the ones you love the most climb to their peak. Especially when you are stuck in a valley.

That valley became crowded slowly, though. Twin shadows lingering at her side had become that sense she was looking for, and it was clear to everyone as Elain sent more blueberries flying, a wide rare smile on her flawless face. 

She saw Rhysand's eye twitching from the corner of her vision, saw him becoming frustrated as the mess grew and grew, and it only furthered her ambition for fun. Fruit went his way quickly, the room falling silently as he stood there shocked. Nuala doubled down, throwing flour at the High Lord, an almost shriek coming from his throat, “Don't you dare,” he pointed to Cerridwen. 

The female was covered in things as well, glaring softly at her sister and Elain. Time beat on slowly as the three of them stared each other down, waiting to see who would make the next move. 

“No,” Rhys said firmly. “Outside. You three can continue outside.”

That day became nights, weeks spent with the three of them in Velaris, in the kitchen, in Elain's room. She learned their differences, they're favorite treats. She learned of the burdens the twin wraiths carried as Azriel's right hand spies. 

Her nights without them were empty and passed with her sitting in the window, waiting for their return home. 

When they were gone, the Riverhouse was nothing more than 4 walls, empty silent halls, and stale air. But when they were with her, when they were home, Elain felt the house was alive. Like it could breathe with every breath, like it had a heart beat in sync with their own. She began to associate their scent with safety. The sound of their footsteps with happiness. Their laughter with music.

Elain found herself in them and they echoed that sentiment. 

Another month passed and the food war began again over cookies. Dresses stained with chocolate, sugar leaving granules in every crevice. Yet no one from the Inner Circle came. The screams of laughter were welcomed, the mess expected. 

All they had wanted was for Elain to find her place. 

And in the shadow wraith twins, she did.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 7: Eternity's Promise

Summary: Astarion is alone.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Spawn Tav/Reader

Warning: 18+. Blood and Violence. PiV. Cunnilingus. Handjob. Masturbation. Obsessing over his consort’s panties. Obsessive and Possessive behavior. Heavy trigger warning for Panic Attack & Anxiety. Our vampire lord really going through it.

Link to AO3!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

A/N: yall this one was hard to write and took way longer than I intended, i hope I did it justice. please enjoy <3 I’m hoping chapter 8 will be out soon, I have 4 days off next week (mini vacation!) so I still intent to post chapter 8 this coming week :)

Pic by: @druidess-vp <3

Astarion believed he hadn’t forgotten what true suffering felt like: there had been too many times in his past where he was tortured, beaten, starved – no, he had certainly suffered. But the vampire lord had been out of touch with his pain for a long time, enveloped in a loving, fairy-tale-like existence with his darling consort, so perfect and submissive, for the past two thousand years. 

Astarion had everything he could ever want: riches, power, eternal love.

Even when he listened to the news from the realms, on how multiple nations had evolved to civil war, the threat of societal breakdown imminent, he had you, which was enough for him. Everything else could be rebuilt, just like the Ancunín name – but you couldn’t be replaced. 

“Involve the military. Whatever needs to be done, have it done,” Astarion demanded, his frustration growing immensely as he was acutely aware of his wife’s discomfort at the banquet; but he had to ignore it. Astarion had an incredibly powerful mind after his ascent, but that didn’t stop him from feeling mentally spread thin.

“The people are already marching to the capital of Amn. Neverwinter has been taken by a militia,” A man said; Astarion hardly bothered to memorize the faces of his advisors and other figureheads, anymore. It was easier to identify them by scent alone. 

Astarion mindlessly twists his wedding ring, the only one he had chosen to wear. He wanted to protect the Ancunín fortune and the power he’d consolidated, if possible – and most of all,  he really didn’t want to have to handle the managing of accounts during a coup. 

Suddenly, Astarion senses a strange feeling – one that he is familiar with, instantly recognizing it: a vision is coming over you, and he’s already racing towards you, wasting no time excusing himself.

“Astarion, Astarion, Astarion!” Your voice rang out in his head as you called his name over and over. Your fear was imminent, your panic rising by the second.

“I’m coming, my love!” Astarion desperately responds, but your cries only continue, racking through his mind as your fear becomes his own.

“Follow,” Astarion commands Alpohso and Ygritte, who obey immediately. 

Snip.

Astarion’s eyes widen. There is something bubbling inside him, deep in his chest, threatening to blossom as he digs his nails into his palm. It’s painful, making his heart physically ache. Your thoughts and feelings slip away from him, making that void between the two of you entirely empty: Astarion only hears his own thoughts reverberating in his mind. 

Upon viewing the Vampire Ascendant when the cord is cut with his consort, he merely pauses, his intensity so frightening that his spawn tremble with fear, dropping to their knees, ready to serve their Master in whatever way possible. He is empty, a vassal of space that is filled with a vicious anger so feral and vile that Astarion himself fears it. He doesn’t understand what’s happened: he knows you aren’t dead, because he would just know if you were, but he can’t sense you anymore, can’t probe into your mind, and for the first time in two millennia, Astarion finds himself alone.

You are his: his first spawn, his favorite spawn, his consort, his wife, his best friend, his one and only. “Where the hells are you?”

Astarion doesn’t come back to himself until he hears the high pitched screaming of a woman in his ear. He is back at the crèche, in a grand hall he doesn’t even recognize. Astarion knows he followed your scent here, to the end of the trail.

The blonde servant is holding onto a pile of blood and guts on the floor, the gore slipping through her hands as she clutches her chest. Looking at the blood on his hands, he couldnt be sure what he’d done to the spawn, but Astarion thought the servant was surely being dramatic – Ruth would heal, he was a vampire for god's sakes, and the pain the couple felt was nothing compared to how Astarion himself felt.

Something about seeing the two lovers together makes Astarion even more angry, his fury growing steady with every passing moment of your absence. Your voice plays back in his head, your image, the memory of your tender touch…

Cynthia sobs echo through the chamber of the dining hall, even louder than the crowd of gith that hung around the corridor, as she brings her wrist to Ruth’s mouth: the vampire latches on, sucking greedily at his lover. Astarion thinks it might make him feel better if he killed Ruth’s beloved; it would be an apt punishment for the spawn, but it wouldn’t be great enough. Astarion didn’t think any punishment would. Moving towards the couple, Astarion feels a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

The hand is firm, not aggressive but assertive. The hold on him isn’t trying to keep his fist, but get his attention; Astarion turns to see Lae’zel, her makeup smudged and eyes filled with common fury.

Astarion can hear the sound of the Kith’rak attempting to clear the hall, followed by a barrage of questions from the crowd. 

Astarion flinches away from her, her touch only making his skin crawl. He flits through her mind before she can even speak, gathering all the information the gith had about your disappearance. You vanished through a portal of darkness, Ziir’o had grabbed your hand, but the force was too strong, and you slipped away.

Lae’zel begins to speak, but Astarion moves past her, deciding Ziir’o should also be punished. But Astarion stops, recognizing something in the eyes of several of the gith: they, too, longed for you. It only reminded him of your absence, of that blank space in his mind that only increased, like the never ending expansion of the universe.

“You promised me forever, Tav.”

Instead of crushing the young gith’s chest and eating his heart, Astarion materializes into red mist, flitting away from the scene to scan the crèche for any sign of you. After many hours, he finds himself in the enchanted forest, zipping through the trees and murdering anything in sight.

The cavern in his chest only grows more hollow, and Astarion finds himself crying out for you with every stab, every bite, until his throat feels sore. He ran himself to the point of exhaustion, and although he would recover quickly, the wild thumping of Astarion’s heart made him feel a bit more steady. Alive, reminding him that he was still here, even if you weren’t, which means that he would just have to get you back.

Once Astarion finds his way back to your room, he numbly lays himself on your side of the bed, his nose rubbing into your pillowcase. He knows he can't waste any time, and he will only stay like this for a moment – but it’s a moment he needs, because he’s feeling your absence wash over him all over again, threatening to sweep him off his feet.

He finds himself in a daze, and there is a feeling in his heart that could only be described as frigid. Astarion brushes his fingers through his silver curls, closing his eyes as he accepts how wrong he was to think he ever understood suffering.

****

Astarion rests for only a moment before his mind is itching at him again, his thoughts on loop as his heart churns in his stomach. He felt desperate for your scent, desperate for any sign of you: he found his way to your laundry, finding the clothes you had worn to training that the servant hadn’t gotten around to washing yet. 

They smelled distinctly of your sweat, your blood, and he needed your odor close to him – gods did his chest ache. Astarion would swear on his life his heart wasn’t physically beating right in his chest: he imagined it bruised and broken, fragmented, all its pieces being held by you, leaving behind a shell of a man. 

Astarion lays your clothing on the bed, finding himself clutching your silk panties in his hand. They were white, perfect for one so demure and delicate as his beautiful spawn wife –

Bringing the crotch of your underclothes to his nose, he closes his eyes as he takes in your most intimate scent: but it only makes him feel a deep ache inside, his hardening cock only making matters worse. “I need you, Tav.”

He decides to lose himself in the moment, to escape the looming pain: freeing his member, the warmth of his hand and the fabric of your soft panties has him coming undone quicker than anticipated. His strokes are rough, fast, and he’s imagining your hot, wet mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, his tip reaching the back of your throat. Your eyes would always tear up, but you were such a champion for him –

Astarion lets out a strangled cry as he shoots thick spurts of come, careful not to soil your underclothes, his tears falling before he can stop them. 

Astarion doesn’t understand how this has happened: doesn’t understand how he will begin to fathom that you are gone. He knows he must act soon, but his entire body is aching for you, his hands shaking. His orgasm only made him feel your absence more, and Astarion is cursing himself. 

Suddenly, Astarion remembers the necklace, the warding bond, and he’s grabbing at his throat, only to find the twinkle of the gem had died. Astarion can’t help but imagine you dead, or chained up somewhere, being used – the thought makes him sick.

Moth had you. It was the only person in the world who would take you from him. Astarion had left you alone, and now you were gone, and it was entirely the worst feeling he could recall, other than when Cazador’s blade carved the symphony of the contract into his back. 

Astarion really couldn’t waste anymore time, he decided. He needed to know the specifics of how you were taken and where: he knew about several of Moth’s palaces, and who knows how many more the dragonborn might have, but he may be able to narrow it down if he could get close enough to search for your scent. 

Once Astarion’s recovered, he stuffs your panties into his pocket before gathering your things; he’s interrupted by a brief knock on the door before it swings open. Lae’zel enters, followed by the spawn and your warriors, all ten of them. Astarion hissed at the intrusion, not wanting any of them to muck up the smell of you that still lingered in the room.

Lae’zel immediately notices Astarion’s bloodshot eyes. She remembers something an old hero said, something about vampire lords not being able to love, only craving one thing. The state of her pale friend makes Lae’zel question if what the old hero said was anything more than plain ignorance. 

Their conversation happens in a snapshot, Astarion’s tone lifeless but nonetheless frightening: “This is your fault.”

Lae’zel blinks. “You needn’t be absurd. We are here to help you, Astarion.”

Astarion doesn’t respond for some time; he is thinking about your smile, his deplorable thoughts twisting this precious image to one of your fangs piercing the throat of a dragonborn. Astarion had heard Moth was known for his exotic beauty, and he is seething at the very thought of you caressing scaled skin. 

It was worse if he was taking you by force, if you weren’t enjoying it – that is only the cruelest torture, and Astarion is prepared to tear across realms to prevent this from happening. But if Astarion was being honest with himself, it hurt him more to imagine that you were enjoying your time with this other man. This other vampire…this other lord. ‘He will be her new Master.’ The thought has Astarion crawling in his flesh. He had to have you back, either way. And he was not so proud to deny help, not when it came to you.

“A wizard. We need a good one.” Astarion looked around the room, his hand involuntarily grabbing at the fabric in his pocket, almost as if to check they were still there. He would have to find something else to track you, something of yours that he was willing to part with: your adorable white panties were not one of them.

The gith nod at his request, Lae’zel sending one of the young ones to fetch a shirt of yours.There is something about Astarion’s aura that clears the room, leaving only Lae’zel and the spawn behind, who kneel whenever Astarion is idle. It deeply unsettles Lae’zel, but something about this entire situation felt off to her.

“Is it not strange, to you, that this lord betrays the nature of vampires by taking a spawn he didn’t create?” Lae’zel asks, wiping away a smudge of makeup with a finger. Drenched in sweat and a few tears, It had been a long night for her. Handling Orpheus and the Kith’rak’s reaction to the situation had her reeling: Orpehus was more apt to help, but Elan wanted the vampires gone. Lae’zel and Orpehus had the final say, of course, and she was permitted to continue doing what she was doing: gathering her fighters and spreading her cause in whichever way needed to happen. She couldn’t leave Astarion like this and knew this was the next part of her strange journey.

“It’s not that strange  if you consider the fact that this lord is utterly insane.” Astarion also thought it was rather strange how the Crystalline Spire had no windows, and it made him feel even more closed in. “And I am the only vampire alive who matches him in power. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to take me down.”

“He is a red dragonborn, correct?”

“Yes.”

“It is in their nature to hoard. You’re sure his first name is Geldon? Geldon Moth, the red dragonborn?” Lae’zel’s quizzical tone was beginning to irritate Astarion.

Astarion looked to his spawn. “Up. Gather.” Lae’zel watches uneasily as the two spawn begin to collect the rest of your things. “What do you mean to say?”

“He can’t be much older than you, Astarion. Dragonborn had only been in Toril for hardly two hundred years when you and Tav met.”

“Don’t say her name,” Astarion’s voice was a force that barreled through Lae’zel’s mind, causing her to grab the sides of her head in anguish. The corner of Astarion’s mouth twitches, relishing in the way her heart flutters with fear.

“Do you think I'm an idiot, Lae’zel?” Astarion’s heart is filled with fury, with grief, and Lae’zel backs up to brace herself for a fight. His knees are bent, and he’s nearly crouched, like a predator. “He is only a hundred years older than me. He was named and raised by humans after his parents were slaughtered, and he was created by a vampire far greater than I.”

Astarion pauses, his face softer than Lae’zel had seen before. “Lae’zel. Moth has resources beyond what I’ve amassed. He has a harem of spawn who fight for him, and even more thralls. If I could find the bastard, I could probably take him down myself, but he’s well protected. And he has what is most precious to me. I have to be careful…I have to think.”

But Astarion was having a hard time thinking of anything but you. 

Lae’zel steeled herself, clearly shaken by the situation.”And you have a hoard of gith. And the daylight. And me, of course.” She gave him a weak smile, but it was one Astarion oddly appreciated. He doesn’t return it, but stares at her for what feels like an eternity to Lae’zel before the spawn are kneeling before him once more, prepared for their next task. 

“I must do whatever to get her back. At any cost.”

Lae’zel pauses. There is something she doesn’t understand, something she’s missing: the empty look in Astarion’s eyes gives it away. But she retreats, knowing when to choose her battles. 

“We’re returning home for the time being. Ring me once your witch doctor is done with his tricks.” With that, Lae’zel watches as Astarion turns the corner, disheveled silver curls disappearing at the bend.

“Wait!” Lae’zel runs after him. “Let me come with you, Astarion.”

Astarion turns to her, unable to hide the glassy look in his eyes. He flits through her mind with ease.“You think you still love her. And what you feel for her, Lae’zel, is so very little compared to the bond I share with my wife.”

Lae’zel’s cheeks flush. “My feelings matter not, Astarion. Our friend, Tav, is missing –“ Astarion turns around, but Lae’zel continues, sensing that despite his actions, he was still listening. “I wouldn’t ever leave her behind. Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll…none of us would ever have let harm come to her. It will be that way all my life, as it was for theirs.”

Astarion hardly reacts, already leagues away. “Do whatever you want. You know how to find me.” 

****

Astarion isn’t surprised when Lae’zel shows up with five githyanki fighters on her heels; Astarion immediately knows it’s your warriors, the ones whose scents tended to linger on you longer than the others. He meets them in the portal room of your palace, the one the Ancunín’s called home.

“Our mages have yet to find any trace of her on Toril,” Lae’zel’s words inspire only frustration within Astarion. “Astarion, tell me why you cannot sense her on your own.”

Astarion turns, his back to Lae’zel and the others. Silently commanding his spawn to escort the gith out, Lae’zel and Astarion are left alone in his office. He turns to a large painting of you, noticing it having caught Lae’zel’s eye. 

In the picture, you’re looking over your bare shoulder, your long hair cascading down your back. The expression on your face is soft, your plush lips parted in a way that made you look girlish. Your red eyes seemed to follow Lae’zel, who decided she much preferred your old eye color. 

“I’ve had many of her done over the years. That one is my favorite.” This wasn’t true, but Lae’zel didn’t need to know about the collection of lewd paintings Astarion had of you hanging in the boudoir. 

“When was this painting of her done? It’s lovely.” She asks, her tone as steady as her arm.

“Around eight centuries ago.”

“It’s difficult to fathom that much time has passed,” Lae’zel takes a breath in. “You know, I still remember how she reacted on the docks when the tadpole died.”

Astarion flinches at the thought. When the tadpole died, your vampirism became fully actualized; your hunger had become immediately apparent, uncomfortable. Your senses had drastically sharpened, the smell of blood and guts and the sound of beating hearts hitting you all at once. Your eyes widened, filling with tears as your hunger pains wrecked you. Astarion had felt it, your pain, because your vampiric connection had solidified in that moment: it was beautiful, terrifying, and it was then Astarion knew he would always be a slave to you.

Astarion had to take you away from the others, feeding you from his own wrist while doing his best to restrain you until you got your fill. If you were full, your hunger was easy to control – and a vampire’s hunger is everlasting, even if the vampire has special abilities. 

“She didn’t suffer for long that day. I’ve taken care of her from the moment I made her mine,” Astarion narrows his eyes at her, raising his voice as he feels his anger rising. “Why do you bring up the past? What relevance does this have to finding her?”

“You must know where I stand with you, Astarion. I still cannot bring myself to forgive you for turning her into a vampire. For stealing her life, which you so happily did.”

Astarion grimaces before flashing his fangs at her. He hadn’t really the energy to spare. He sighs before he speaks. “I can easily read your mind, Lae’zel. All your pointless words amount to nothing, to me, because I really don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting my wife back. Hats off to you for saying it to my face, I suppose.”

“She was different after that.”

“Still on about that, are we? We both made sacrifices so that we could spend eternity together. That was my promise to her, and I intend to keep it. Let's not waste anymore time.”

****

After a long day of traversing portals across Toril, handling a divide of a once united world, and dealing with the attitude on Lae’zel, Astarion wanted nothing more than to be alone at the end of the day. He had worked through most of the night before Bethild suggested the lord should rest. He had reluctantly agreed.

“Bring me a glass of red, would you?” Astarion didn’t bother to clean his desk: he would be back in just a few hours. 

Bethild hesitated for only a moment. “Of course, my Lord.” The request was an odd one coming from Astarion, but Bethild was good and never questioned him.

Astarion was met with your favorite red wine by the time he arrived at the boudoir. He thought it far too strong and bitter to be drunk before bed, but it did taste like you: right at the fall of night, before you washed away the doings of the day. He swished the wine in his mouth, savoring its sour flavor before he swallowed. 

Astarion can’t help but dwell on what Lae’zel said: how you were different after your turning. This was undeniably true, Astarion himself having experienced it: you were overall less emotional, but more prone to violence, and you enjoyed combat far more than you ever did. But these things had only made Astarion love you more, and your feelings for him only grew, as well. Astarion would know, because he was always watching his darling.

Astarion hadn’t bothered changing since you vanished, and he realized he was still in the extravagant, elegant clothing he had been in at that stupid meeting about the mortal wars. Studying his ensemble, Astarion feels tight all of a sudden, like he buttoned his clothing too tight, or his chest was being crushed, or like he was underwater – drowning. His breathing quickened until the tips of his fingers went numb, and he was surely dying.

But Astarion reasonably knew that he couldn’t actually die like this: but something inside told him he simply wasn’t safe. Astarion grabs at his collar, yanking the buttons free as he easily tears through the fabric, and he doesn’t stop until he’s on his knees, shredded cloth at his feet. Sitting back on his heels, he brings his ring to his lips before losing all composure. His tears are hot and salty, streaming down his cheeks as his arms move to wrap around his waist. When his fingers brush the scar tissue on his back, he flinches away, not even feeling safe in his own body. 

Bringing his hand back to his mouth, Astarion bites his wedding ring, bringing his tongue to the metal, savoring the metallic flavor as he takes a deep breath. He stays like this for some time before gathering himself up. He was a mess, and as he walked to the bathroom to wash up, he caught a glimpse of himself in a vanity mirror.

He wasn’t surprised at his puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Astarion typically gazed into any mirror he could: he adored his reflection, and yours, which had been a triumph of his as a vampire. He was able to give you something that was so cruelly taken from him, and you never had to forget your gorgeous face. 

Astarion gazed heavily into his own eyes, which were the same shade of deep crimson as yours. ‘How rare. How sweet.’ 

Every thought of you burned him, like a double edged sword: to try not thinking of you hurt just as much. Astarion narrows his eyes at himself – even after two millennia of being able to see his reflection, he never got tired of it, but there was something in his expression that was just off. If he looks close enough, if he focuses only on his eyes, he can see you in him…

“I love you, Tav.” But it doesn’t fill the growing void in his chest. The words weren’t a magic spell, even if they felt like it when spoken from your lips. Astarion returns to the bed he once shared with you, your clothes littering the mattress as your beloved vampire desperately tore through your belongings, grabbing anything and everything that smelled like you. 

He should have told you that more. How much he adored you – how much he loved you. How his heart beat only for you, and everything he had in this world was nothing without you. How he felt that even with his ascension, even with everything he’s given you, he still hadn’t given enough.

Astarion stays in reverie while he can – at least until the sun comes up. For now, Astarion simply wants to live in memories of you: your smile, your laugh, your smooth, flawless skin, the pitch of your voice…

Astarion’s tongue was between your lips, your kisses languid and sloppy as the two of you lay naked in bed, silken sheets resting at your hips. Astarion has you on your back; he is perched on his elbow, curls falling out of place as he’s forgotten the world around him.

His tongue sucked and stroked your own, a trail of saliva connecting your lips when he pulled away to look at you. “My treasure…”

Astarion twitches. This had been right before Lae’zel showed up and ruined it all. Astarion goes back further, to a more lewd memory:

Your cunt was sucking his cock in, taking him so relentlessly that he felt like you wouldn’t ever let him go. His hands roamed your body, his fingers stopping to tug at your nipple, the hardening bud sensitive enough to make your back arch just from his touch.

He softly ruts into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me again, my favorite spawn.” Before you could respond, Astarion grasped your jaw with his hand, meeting your eyes to his. “Obey me.”

“I love you, Master Astarion.”

“Tav…” the elf moans, his mind already involuntarily flickering to another memory.

Astarion is perched at a window. He swiftly breaks the lock, entering the house silently, crouching as he approaches a sleeping man. 

The man was tall, muscular, his curly red hair and copper skin immediately having an effect on you. Astarion thought the man rather attractive himself, and permitted you to ask him to bed. He had been invited back to the Ancunín estate many times.

Astarion thinks about the way you cried out the man’s name the last time the three of you were together as he slid the dagger into his throat. The way you run your fingers through the hair on the man’s chest and groin flashes before Astarion’s eyes when the man tries to ask why.

“I won’t share in her heart.”

Astarion opens his eyes, cursing at the wretched memory. He didn't understand why he was dwelling on such things, but the pit in his stomach spoke tenfold: he had never told you the truth about the man’s death, even when you cried after hearing the news of it. He hid the information away from you, one of the few secrets he kept, and it only made his stomach churn to think about it. Astarion shakes these thoughts away as he eases out of the bed and makes his way to the balcony. He breathes in the cool night air, the stars shining bright in the sky as he looks off into the abyss of the city below. 

In the coming days, Astarion would be in agony: he wouldn’t rest, his mind flitting to you every second as his thoughts became single minded, obsessive, like he was on a loop that is purely you. Astarion has music playing in the halls continuously, because he began hearing an echo of your voice throughout the palace, and he really thought himself going mad. 

He would create many more spawn, sending them out into the night to scout for your scent. Astarion himself would do so for days, even returning to the crèche to ensure he hadn’t missed any information, but all roads lead to nowhere.

On the mantle of the fireplace in the grand boudoir, a painting hangs: you lie on your back, your breasts exposed, the expression in your eyes is hungry, wanting, and your lips are parted just enough to see the tip of your fangs. Your arms are overhead, as if you are lounging in a stretch. Your thighs are together, and when Astarion looks at the painting, he imagines spreading them, taking your folds in his mouth and pleasuring you until you’ve come undone around his tongue. Astarion has thousands of memories of you like this, desperate and whimpering for him, and something about knowing he’s fucked you, his eternal bride, far more times than his body count brings comfort to him.

But no amount of memories could replace you. Tears were unbecoming of a vampire lord, and yet they began to feel like second nature to Astarion. 

****

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

Next Chapter

[paracosmic-murdock]

gold rush ; benedict bridgerton x reader (part two)

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: after he found out the reason why you had been distancing from him, benedict decided he would do anything and everything to win you back. how unfortunate that he will not have it as easy as he firstly believed it to be.

warnings/tags: mutual pining, idiots in love, insane benedict bridgerton, married kate and anthony, platonic anthony bridgerton & reader, song: gold rush (taylor swift)

word count: 1.6K

❁ part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

It was a whole new day, but for him it wasn't.

The thought of you being in love with him and him not being able to reciprocate your feelings, therefore, you hating him, was eating Benedict alive.

And the more he thought of it, the more he realized he had given you plenty of mixed signals throughout the years. His excitement every time he saw you? Asking you to dance at least twice every single ball? Painting portraits of you each and every time he could for all the assignments that required him to paint a woman? Buying you books every week? Mixed signals here and there because a man that does not love a woman doesn't do any of the things he has done for you since you became friends.

So he made a plan to get you to forgive him so you could be friends again.

One that began with him at your home.

One that didn't include seeing you and your parents chatting with an unknown man, who was, by the way, sitting so inappropriately close to you.

As he was about to leave, your mother's eyes landed on Benedict, and she said his name as she stood up.

He saw the way you tensed under his mention, but stood up nevertheless.

"Uh…" He cleared his throat. "My apologies, I did not mean to intrude. I shall return some other time."

"Nonsense, my dear!" your mother exclaimed. "Come on in, take a seat."

Benedict gave everyone an apologetic look and sat on the chair next to you.

"Good afternoon, Benedict. We have not seen you in quite a while here," your father noted. "Why is that? You have been missed."

He chuckled slightly. "Uh, the Academy has been quite time consuming as of late. More than I had anticipated, in fact. My apologies, that is why I came, for… a keep up."

"You do not have to have a reason to come visit, Benedict," your mother said. "Right, my darling?"

You looked up, an uncomfortable grin on your face. "That is right, Benedict…" you replied. "This is, uh… Lord Vikander. Lord Vikander, this is Mr. Bridgerton, a friend of the family."

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Bridgerton." They shook hands.

"Likewise." Benedict agreed with his lips in a fine, fake line.

"Benedict, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"My apologies, Lord Y/L/N, but I am expected at home for dinner, I… I wish to speak to Y/N in private, actually."

"Of course." He nodded, making a gesture so you would take Benedict somewhere you could speak.

You obeyed, as expected, and walked next to him to your studio.

Benedict sighed looking around. All the things with his name that used to be in your studio were dead, gone, and buried. "Where are the…?"

"Somewhere I could not see them." you replied dryly.

"Whatever did I do?" he questioned, the patience in his eyes disappeared, distress replacing it. "I- I must know because I cannot live without you in my life."

"You should start getting used to it," you murmured. "Lord Vikander and I will be engaged to be married any time soon, and I shall move to Stockholm with him as his wife."

"Excuse me, what?"

You nodded. "I overheard him telling Papa and my brother that he had sent for his Mother's ring."

"Y/N, you… you cannot just marry and leave."

"Ben, this is the cycle of the life of a woman: once we are old enough, we become a pretty trophy for a man to win over. I have postponed it long enough and now it is time… Soon I will be too old for a fine gentleman to want me, so this is my all or nothing at all."

"But you cannot marry him and move to Sweden."

"I can, I will, and I have no other choice but to either way," you answered. "And please, return to your home. There is nothing left for us to talk about… This is not appropriate, especially with Lord Vikander waiting for me."

"Since when do you care for what is appropriate when it comes to you and me?"

"Since I lost hope," you confessed, looking anywhere but at his eyes. "Now, it is best if you leave."

"Benedict!"

He downed the bottle of whiskey that wasn't meant to be drunk that way before Anthony could reach him. "Brother!"

"Benedict, what is happening to you?!"

"This, Brother, is what a man who has lost hope looks like!" he exclaimed. "You shall see me in a circus by next month."

Anthony rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"She will marry that man," he answered, and Anthony's concern grew bigger at the sight of his brother weeping. "She will marry that man, move to Sweden, and not come back. She will not come back to me, I will never see her again… And I ran out of whiskey."

"What man?" He frowned.

"A Swedish lord who seems to be in love with her."

"Swedish? You mean Lord Vikander?"

"In the flesh," Benedict confirmed. "She says she has no other choice, but she does…"

"She does not have another choice, Brother. That is the wealthiest man in Sweden, someone who can provide for her, take good care of her. He is a good man, and if you do not love her, he is the best husband she could dream of."

"Whose side are you on?"

Anthony smirked, taking the empty bottle from his brother's hand. "Hers."

"I cannot let her go. I cannot lose her."

"There is nothing you can do, Ben," he said. "She was never yours to lose to begin with."

"But she could be."

"No, Benedict," He shook his head. "You do not love her so you must let her go. Perhaps one day you will get married or simply move to your property outside of London, and what will be of her? A single woman who renounced her suitor for her friend who could not even return her feelings? Let her go."

"I cannot, Anthony, she-"

"She will be better with Niklaus, brother, just…"

"You know him?" He asked, trying to seem careless.

"Y/N's brother, Niklaus, Simon, and I were close friends back in Oxford."

"He is friends with Nathaniel?"

"He is, and I did not know Niklaus was courting her, though I saw him last night at White's."

"He did not say a word about her?"

"No, and I did not ask."

Benedict sighed. "I will not let her go."

"You must," Anthony rolled his eyes. "Now, go to your room."

"Do not treat me like a kid, Anthony."

"But you are behaving like a stubborn child who does not want to let go of a toy someone borrowed! I hope to God you do not sabotage Y/N's engagement or else."

Benedict nodded, and Anthony knew he had to keep an eye on him.

Back at the Y/L/N Manor, you were cursing him and yourself.

Even your Father, ever so clueless of anything in regards of emotions and feelings, noticed that something was wrong as soon as you returned from your private conversation with Benedict.

It was midnight now, and you were sitting on the windowsill and looking outside, the Orion constellations bringing you memories of when you and Benedict were teenagers and he used to escape from his home so late at night and you to your home. You two would look at the stars until the sunrise hid them, and look at each other until your eyes were too tired to be kept open.

Two knocks on the door killed your reminiscing.

"Are you awake, my darling?"

You recognized your Papa's voice, so you stood up and opened the door.

"I apologize for being up so late, Papa. I just cannot fall asleep."

He shook his head in amusement. "Do not apologize, just talk to me and tell me what has got you so distressed."

"It is nothing, Papa."

"Does it have to do with Lord Vikander?"

"No, everything is alright."

"Benedict?"

The mere mention of his name made you break down. His expression softened and he opened his arms to receive you in a hug.

"I love him."

Your father stroked your hair lightly. "What is the problem? You do not have to marry Lord Vikander if you do not wish to, you can marry whoever you choose."

"But Ben doesn't want to marry me, Papa… If he wanted me, we would be married by now."

"How can you be so sure, my darling?" he asked, making you look him in the eyes. "I was so in love with your mother when we were your age, but I had promised myself I would enjoy the life of a bachelor as long as I could… It took me long enough to admit to myself how much I loved your mother, but once I did, I could never forget I did. Perhaps he has not realized yet that he loves you, and perhaps he needs a little push. Tell him how you feel," he advised, cleaning your tears. "And if he doesn't feel the same way, then you will always have Lord Vikander. You can always learn how to love him, and if not, you get along very well with him. He is sensible, he respects you, he is serious about his intentions, he knows what he wants… You deserve a man like him, not one that does not love you, my darling. Listen to my words and converse with Benedict, then you will know what to do."

"Thank you, Papa."

He smiled. "You do not have to thank me for anything. Now, go to sleep."

You smiled back at him and did as he told you.

[age-of-greta]

The Sun

The Sun presents a feeling of optimism and fulfillment. It represents the dawn which follows the darkest of nights.

Author’s note: hi!! Welcome back to The Sun! Sorry it’s been a while, life is busy and I try to write when I can. I hope you enjoy this ~spicy~ chapter

Pairing: Josh x reader & Jake x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smutttttttt, minors DNI

Word count: 8.3k

PART 3:

“I’m actually so depressed that you’re leaving me for a week.” You groaned, as you plopped down on his bed.

“I know. I’m not sure how you’re going to survive without me.” Josh said, throwing a pair of socks into his bag.

You huffed and folded your arms. Josh was about to leave you for a whole entire week. Well, really just five days, but close enough. He was going to meet with a vocal coach to prepare him for the sound of their new album. You were really bummed about it. You and Josh had spent virtually everyday together for weeks. He was your best friend and the thought of him leaving to go to LA made you feel sick. You wondered if he would be going to lavish parties with other people in the industry. Would he meet other people? Other girls? That’s completely normal worries to have about your best friend, right?

“What time is your flight tomorrow again?” You ask, picking at the ends of your hair.

“8:45 am.”

“And we’re still getting breakfast before I take you to the airport?”

Josh chuckles. “I hope so.”

“Okay.” You respond.

Josh closes his bag and sits down next to you. “I wish I didn’t have to go either. But it’s only a few days and I’ll call you as much as I can.”

You smile at him. “I know. I’m being such a baby about this.”

He smiles back and places his hand on your knee. “I think it’s sweet.”

Your eyes meet his and you feel a strange feeling brewing.

“Hey Josh, do you need this?”

You remove your eyes and see Jake standing in the doorway holding a neck pillow. He makes a face when sees you and Josh.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” Josh responds, getting up and grabbing the pillow from Jake.

“Didn’t know you were here Sug.” Jake says, crossing his arms.

You nod. “I’m taking Josh to the airport in the morning.”

Jake bites his lip. “Hm, okay.”

He glances you over once more before heading back down the hallway.

“Alright, I think I’m finally packed.” Josh throws all of his bags by the door and turns back to you. “Wanna order Chinese?”

“Oh yes please. I’m starving.” You say dramatically.

“Okay. You mind asking everyone else if they want anything? I’m going to throw all of this in the car and make a phone call real quick.”

You salute him. “Yes sir. Can do.”

Josh drags his bags down the stairs while you wonder around the halls looking for the other three.

“Danny?” You knock on his door. No response. “Sam?” You yell down the hallway. Nothing. You huff heading downstairs, but it’s also a ghost town. Finally, you open the back door and see Jake sitting by the fire pit reading. You glance around, still not seeing anyone else before deciding to head over and approach him. “Um, hey have you seen Sam or Danny?”

Jake glances up at you and slides his sunglasses off his nose. “They’re gone.”

“Oh.” You state. “Josh and I are ordering Chinese food and we wanted to see if anyone else wanted anything.”

He closes his book and turns to face you. “You can sit, you know.”

You glance down at the chair next to Jake and decide to take a seat. “What are you reading?”

Jake grins at you. “The Hobbit.”

You let out a laugh. “Again?!”

He nods his head. “Yeah. It’s one of the greatest novels of all time.”

“You and your Tolkien.” You huff. “It is one of the best books I’ve ever read though.”

Jake looks at you incredulously. “You read it?”

You nod. “And The Lord of the Rings trilogy.”

“When?”

You shrug. “Not super long ago.”

You didn’t want to tell him you had read all of those novels to try and feel closer to him. But once you started reading them, you had actually enjoyed them quite a bit.

“You’re full of surprises Sugar. Always keeping me on my toes.” Jake says, still smiling largely at you.

Josh walks outside and sits next to you. “So what’s the verdict?”

You clear your throat. “Sam and Danny aren’t here.”

Josh raises his eyebrows. “Oh lovely. Jake, what do you want?”

Jake stretches out a little. His shirt rises ever so slightly and reveals a small sliver of his stomach. You try not to look but fail. “I’m good.”

Josh makes a face at him. “You love Chinese food.”

Jake shrugs. “I’ll be out later.”

“Mhm.” Josh nods. “Holly or Katie?”

Jake shoots his twin a foul look.

Josh throws his hands up then faces you. “Okay. Wanna go get this order started.”

“Yep.” You say coolly, getting up to follow Josh.

As you walk away you glance back at Jake. He’s looking at you, like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t say anything, so neither do you.

**

“This is so freaking good.” You say, plopping chopsticks full of noodles into your mouth.

Josh smiles at you while chewing. “I told you. I have the best recommendations.”

You were both sprawled out on his bed watching an old western film that you had never seen before, but Josh definitely had.

“Josh?” You say, timidly turning towards him.

He glances over to you. “Hm?”

You purse your lips in contemplation before speaking. “I really have enjoyed spending so much time with you. You’re my best friend.”

He bites back what appears to be the beginning of a grimace before smiling back softly at you. “I have too. I love you, you know.”

You grin at him. “I know.”

He bites his lip. “Do you?”

You stare at him and give him a soft smile. Unsure as to where he might be going with this. Josh lets out a bated breath and reaches close to your face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. For some reason your heart is pounding. It’s getting louder, but it’s not your heart. You jolt when you realize someone is beating on Josh’s door.

“Oh what the fuck.” He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He groans and opens the door to see Sam standing there. “What?” Josh bites.

Sam furrows his brows at Josh and then glances over to you. “Sorry to disturb you… I just wanted to come by and wish you well on your travels before I went out tonight. If I’m successful, I won’t be home this evening.”

Sam gives Josh a wink and Josh clears his throat. “Yes, well thank you Sam. Good luck to you as well.”

He grins at his brother and shifts his eyes to you. “Will we be seeing you at all this week?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. I’ve got a busy work week ahead and I really need to hang some shelves in my bathroom.”

“I told you I’ll do that for you when I get back. You're not the greatest at making things level.” Josh pokes.

Sam fake gasps and nudges his brother. “What a gentleman. If you get bored after work or are looking for trouble, you know where to find us.” Sam says with a wink.

You huff a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, I don't want to hold you guys up any longer. Good luck Josh. Love you guys!” Then Sam is waltzing away to get into God knows what.

Josh closes his door and lets out a chuckle. “He’s going to be the death of me one day.”

You shake your head. “He loves you.”

He smiles at you. “He’s a little shit.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” You say, smiling back at him.

Josh rejoins you on the bed, picking up his container of rice and scooting ever so closer to you than he was before.

After you both had finished eating you had cleaned up and longued about before getting ready for bed. You grabbed your micellar water and doused it on a cotton pad to remove your mascara. You smiled when you glanced at the place it had lived in Josh’s bathroom. In fact, you had a whole shelf full of your small toiletries that you needed when you stayed over. After completing a quick version of your nightly routine you slid in bed next to Josh, adjusting your pillow just how you liked it.

“I need to get you softer pillows for when you stay over huh?” Josh laughs.

“I don’t know how you sleep on these flat things.” You say, fluffing up the pillow.

“Believe it or not, sleeping on flatter pillows is better for singers. It helps even out the breath in your sleep, leaving better airflow for your vocal chords.”

You make a slightly surprised face at him. “Wait, really?”

He turns and smirks at you. “I have no idea. I just made all of that up. Flat pillows are better though.”

You playfully smacked his chest, leaving your hand there. “Josh! I totally bought that. I think I would believe anything you said to me. That’s a dangerous quality to have. You should start a cult.”

He scooted closer to you. “Yeah? Would you be a member?”

You grinned at him. “Oh, I’d be your biggest fan. Give me that Kool-Aid, no questions asked.”

He snickered at that. “Good to know. Loyalty is of utmost importance when embarking on such a journey.”

You absentmindedly fidgeted with his necklaces. “Loyalty is everything. But I would need to know what my leader thinks the meaning of life is?”

He puts his arm out while you nuzzle yourself into it. This was somewhat of a new position. But you two were best friends, so testing the waters was platonic of course. This is what you told yourself as you took in his scent in an anything but innocent way. “The meaning of life?”

Josh pondered for a minute, lightly tracing circles on your arm. “To be happy and to be with people you love. Where there is love, we must live on. Where there is not love, we must provide it.”

You fluttered your eyes closed, feeling sleep sinking in. “I like that. You’re very poetic.”

He turns his head towards you and places a small kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight sleepy girl.”

**

You groggily woke up the next morning at an ungodly hour. Josh still had his arm lightly across you. You gently lifted it up, smiling at his soft snores and scooted out underneath him. You quietly crept to the bathroom doing a small routine before slinking down the stairs. You wanted to make Josh some coffee and surprise him with cooked breakfast before he headed off this morning. You tried to remain quiet through the house, not wanting to disturb anyone. Then you remembered you were probably the only two here. That wasn’t the case when you turned the corner and saw Jake sitting at the kitchen island. He was in a pair of very worn navy sweatpants with a steaming cup of coffee sitting next to the same book from earlier. He had made significant progress through the pages since you last saw him. It was early. Did he just make it back from whatever he did last night? You tried not to make any sound, but your heart sunk when you realized the sweatpants he was wearing were a gift from you.

“Morning.” You said lightly as you entered the kitchen.

Jake glanced up at you, almost surprised to see you. “Good morning.”

You began to clink around with the mugs, trying to act entirely normal.

“Sleep well?” Jake asked from behind you.

You nod your head, placing two stone mugs on the counter. “I did. How was your… night?”

Jake shrugged. “Got a lot of work done in the studio. Then came back and crashed.”

The studio. He was there. Not at someone else’s house. That made you feel relieved and it ate you alive simultaneously that you even cared.

“I don’t remember you being an early riser.” You poked, pressing buttons on the fancy coffee machine.

He half smiled at you. “I’m full of surprises too Sug.”

You met his eyes and couldn’t help but grin back at him. “I’ve changed a bit.” He offers, in a quieter tone, his expression too serious to read.

You swallow hard, trying to figure out what to say. Trying to figure out just what he meant.

Your thoughts are plundered by the soft padding of Josh making his way into the kitchen. “Morning.” He says through a long stretch and yawn. He eyes Jake. “Why are you up?”

“Wanted to get a jump start on my day I suppose.” Jake responds to his twin, rather flatly.

Josh turns to you and smiles. “Is that my coffee?”

You let out a small laugh and nod.

“You’re my absolute favorite person, you know that?” Josh gushes as he heads over to you and wraps you in a hug while grabbing his coffee.

You giggle at him. “So sappy Joshy.”

He plants a kiss on your head dramatically. “Ah, just for you.”

Jake clears his throat.

You're transported back to reality for a moment and realize how cozy you and Josh are. To you, this felt normal. Natural even. But you could see how it might look to Jake.

“Anyway, I had planned on making you breakfast before your big trip. But it appears you only have Ritz crackers and margarita mix.”

Josh laughs. “Now that is a meal. Don’t sweat it, let me go get everything ready and we’ll stop somewhere before you drop me off.”

Josh grabs his mug and darts off towards the stairs, leaving you and Jake in silence. You take a few sips of your coffee, leaning against the countertops. Jake has resumed reading his book while absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the counter. You had come to learn this was something he did when he had a particular riff stuck in his head.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Better go get ready.”

He glanced over at you. “Sure.”

You couldn’t help but notice the bite in his tone.

**

It was too early for any normal breakfast place to be open so you and Josh settled at a Dunkin Donuts close to the airport.

“Pink frosted sprinkled donuts are my spirit animal I think.” You joked, biting into your sweet treat.

Josh smiled at you. “That donut is an embodiment of you.”

“Philosophical Joshua. I have a confession though…”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do tell.”

“Pink frosted sprinkle donut. Right? But what’s the flavor? It doesn’t taste like artificial strawberry or like medicine, bubblegum or cotton candy. The taste is simply… pink.”

Josh cackles and claps at your revelation. “Oh my god. You finally get it now babe.”

Babe? That was new. It made a warmness flutter in your chest.

You tried not to sound bashful. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Josh smiled at you as he licked chocolate frosting from his thumb and sighed. “We should head over soon.”

You frowned. “You’re probably right.”

He grins. “That’s typically the case.”

You fake roll your eyes. “Can it.”

You put your car in reverse and drive the short distance to the drop off at the airport. Josh is lightly humming to a Joe Cocker song that had come on shuffle. Somehow during the short ride his hand found it’s way on yours. You tried not to think too much on it, but it felt nice. What the fuck was happening to you?

The bustle of the airport was still chaotic even at this ungodly hour.

“Fuck.” Josh muttered.

“Hey, be safe okay? Keep me updated on when you land and all that.” You say.

“Yes ma’am. Thank you for taking me. I really appreciate everything.”

You softly smile at him. “Of course.”

“Well.” He groans. “Better go before that whistle starts blowing.”.

He leans over and grips you in a tight hug before grabbing his carry-on and opening the door.

“It’s not really a goodbye. Just a farewell for now.” Josh offers with a bright smile, standing at the door.

“Okay people move along!” One of the traffic officers yell accompanied by a whistle.

“See? Told ya. These fuckin whistles.” Josh scoffs.

You laugh at him. “Be safe! Come back in one piece please.”

He winks at you. “I’ll try.”

**

A dreadfully boring Wednesday had rolled around. The week had already been long, you had been in the office the past three days. It was now nearing dark and you were so excited to throw some frozen orange chicken in the air fryer and make a lazy version of stirfry as soon as you had gotten home. Traffic had been brutal and you were on the final stretch, finally making that turn towards your townhome. You parked your car and grabbed your work tote, thankful that you only had one more day to work this week until you had three days off. Subsequently, you were so excited to see Josh again. You two had kept in touch of course calling and texting, but you were both also busy. You unlocked your door and kicked your black heels off at the door. You threw your tote bag and baby blue blazer down on the table. You know you shouldn’t cook dinner in your work attire, but your stomach is too empty for you to care. You tied an apron around your waist, trying to hide the white bodysuit and baby blue slacks from any stains. Then you got to work taking out your frozen vegetables and putting them in the skillet with oil. You put on a Dire Straits album and swayed around your kitchen as you let your mind wander. It was liberating doing such a mundane task after a long day. A knock at your door disrupted your thoughts. You made at face and glanced at your phone. No texts from anyone and you weren’t expecting company. You wiped your hand on a dish towel and felt ready to let whoever was on the other side of that door that they needed to go. But when you opened the door you were taken aback slightly. It was Jake. He had a toolbox on hand.

“Good evening Sugar.” He smirked.

You furrowed your brows at him. “Jake, what are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Sam had mentioned something about some bathroom shelves.”

You pursed your lips together. “I can hang them.”

He laughed and stepped by you into your house. “As if. Come on let me do this for you Sugs. Friends remember?”

You huffed a little. “Okay. Well, um I’m cooking dinner. Orange chicken stirfry. Would you like some?”

He smiled at you. “Absolutely. Nice place you got here. Want to direct me to where you would like these shelves?”

**

You had lit a scented candle. Why? You don’t know. For some reason you were nervous. You could hear Jake with a drill in your bathroom as you anxiously tapped your fingers as you plated the food. You took two plates and sat it on your kitchen table, then grabbed two wine glasses and your favorite bottle of moscato. You placed everything down, took your apron off, and smoothed your hair before heading towards your bathroom. He was just finishing hanging the first shelf. His brows pinched up in concentration, while he had a drill bit hanging out of his mouth. He had always been a perfectionist.

“Looks good.” You say, standing in the doorway crossing your arms.

He pops the drill bit out of his mouth and turns to give you a smile. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Dinner’s ready.”

You turn back heading towards the kitchen and hear Jake picking up. He joins you just a few minutes after and takes a seat across from you while you scroll on your phone.

“Oh Sug, this smells great.” He says with a smirk.

You place your phone down and force a laugh. “Thanks. Most of it is frozen though. I rarely have time to cook anything else. Wine?”

“Please.” He says, tipping his glass towards you.

You uncork the bottle and pour the chilled wine half way full in each glass.

“It’s my favorite. Not too sweet, not too bitter.”

Jake swirls the wine around in the glass and brings it to his nose before taking a sip. “Wow okay, yeah. You have good taste.”

You shrug and try to act like that’s not a huge compliment coming from him as you poke around your plate with your fork.

“So, tell me all about you. What’s new?” Jake asks, taking a bite of food.

You hum. “Nothing too exciting. I work a lot. I occasionally go out and I enjoy going to the park to read.”

“Enthralling stuff there honey. But let’s cut the boring shit here. That’s not us. What’s really been going on? Have you dated anyone seriously since me?”

You can’t help but smile at his bluntness. “No, not seriously anyway. Have you?”

“No.” He responds with a grin.

You take a sip of your wine. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

He raises an eyebrow at you but keeps that grin on his face. “How come?”

“Well Jake, you’re not exactly relationship material.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Maybe not for most. But I was for you.”

You felt your cheeks grow pink. Fuck. Why did he affect you like this? Play it cool. “Right.”

“Despite everything. I always thought about you. Wondered about how you were, what you were doing, who you were with. Sometimes I would think I would look out into the crowd at a show and see you there.” He admitted, flicking his gaze towards the table as he talked.

The wine had made you feel warm inside, at least you told yourself that was the reason. “I’ve been fine. Building my career, working on myself, loving myself.” You paused, finding those honey brown eyes. “But of course I had thought about you too. From time to time.”

He smiled at your acknowledgment. “Well hot damn. After all of this time, look at us huh? Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Not me.”

After you two had wrapped up dinner and finished the whole entire bottle of wine you had changed into lounge clothes and migrated to your couch, spending hours talking and giggling. At some point Jake’s hand found its way to rest on your calf as you sat criss cross facing him while he leaned towards you.

“So moral of the story, that’s why Sam no longer drinks kombucha before shows.”

You giggled at his stories as he tried to fill you in on every major detail that had happened since you two had last been together.

“God you really have lived an adventure huh?” You ask, twisting the ends of your hair.

He nods. “And I hope it’s only getting started. It’s been so surreal and being here in Nashville makes me want to stay. There’s so many different people and the weather. Oh the weather.”

You nod your head. “That’s what did it for me. I don’t think I would survive a full Michigan winter again.”

He placed his hand on your hip and began to tickle you. “Nope. You’re too warm blooded now.”

You leaned back in a fit of laughter. “Jake! Stopppp!”

He continued and leaned over you. “Mhm I know all your spots Sugar.”

He finally stops and you brush your hair out of your face. He’s essentially on top of you, in between your legs. “You’re such a little shit. You know that?” You say lightheartedly.

He leans closer to you, the tip of his hair tickling your collarbones. “Now that’s not nice to say darlin. Do I need to remind you how sweet I can be too?”

Your heart is thumping in your chest as you two make fierce eye contact with each other. The wine has you feeling giddy. But, you’re saved by the bell as your phone begins to ring loudly on the coffee table. It jolts you from your thoughts and your position. You reach over and grab your phone seeing “Josh” pop up on your screen along with a silly picture of you two.

“One sec.” You say to Jake, who clearly seems disappointed. You run to your room and close the door.

“Hello?”

His chipper voice rings back at you. “Hey there, pretty lady. It’s been an insanely busy day, I’ve just now got a five minute break to have my own thoughts. What have you been up to today?”

You clear your throat, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. “Oh you know, same old same old. Just a long day of working. I made stir fry for dinner.”

He sighs into the phone. “Now that sounds good. I’ve been living mostly on takeout and party foods.”

You huff a laugh. “Party foods? Oh poor you.”

He returns your laugh. “I know it’s rough out here. Hey listen they’re about to call back for me. It was good to hear your voice. I’ll give you a call tomorrow?”

“You better. Have fun, be safe.”

You collected yourself and cleared your throat before heading back into your living area. You found Jake in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“Everything okay?” He asked, rinsing a plate.

“Mhm. Yeah yeah, just checking in. Hey you don’t have to clean up. I can do it.” You offer, stepping in to help.

He shakes his head. “No, I got it. I’m going to finish up and I’ll be out of your hair. I know you have work tomorrow.”

You nod, trying to decipher if you were relieved or disappointed.

“Care if I come back by tomorrow to put that other shelf in?” He asks with a soft smile.

“Sure. I can make dinner again.”

And you did. He had come over again Thursday night, installed your shelf, and you two had made pizzas together. A flood of nostalgia flooded you as you two had rolled the dough out. Jake put a dab of flour on your cheek and you returned the favor with pizza sauce. This was a date you two had before, but this time there was no arguing. In fact, the night had gone quite pleasantly. You had watched a movie and Jake went home after. He kept his hands, mostly to himself- which surprised you. You had woken up on Friday morning in a haze. The past two days had felt surreal with Jake. Part of you had believed maybe you had hallucinated the whole thing, but when you saw how perfectly your shelves were hung you smiled to yourself. Josh would be home Sunday morning, but all you could think about is if Jake would try to come by again. You checked your phone. Nothing but a Snapchat from Josh. In the past two days you had unblocked Jake and even shared a text or two. You decided to try and push him out of your mind and switched it up today, going for a hot yoga class. This was a little further of a drive than your pilates studio, but the drive cleared your mind. After yoga you felt energized and grabbed a coffee to get you through the rest of the day. You decided to stop at a shopping plaza to treat yourself. While gandering at all the pretty little things you felt your phone vibrating in your purse.

Jake.

Your heartbeat picked up and you felt a rush go through you as you answered.

“Good morning Sugar. Do you have any plans later?”

You decided to play it cool. “Nothing too concrete. Why?”

“Great. I’ll pick you up later. Before you ask, wear whatever you want. You look good in anything. I’m about to head to the studio, but be ready by 8.”

You glanced at the black lacy matching set you had in your hands. This would do.

**

7:58. You stared at the clock on your wall, tapping your fingers absentmindedly on your couch as you waited for Jake. You felt unusually nervous, as if you hadn’t been on a date with him before. Was this a date? Who in the hell knew. Your feelings were scattered everywhere. But the one thing you knew was that Jake had sunk his claws right into you again. Everything inside of you was screaming no while also simultaneously screaming yes. You had decided on a casual little orange dress that complimented your tan perfectly with platform sandals and gold jewelry. You put loose curls in your hair and did an ample amount of makeup. You felt summery and pretty. You hoped Jake would think so as well.

A knock on your door at 8 pm sharp jolted you from your thoughts.

“Hello gorgeous.” Jake said, stepping in and handed you a small bouquet of red roses.

“Do friends buy each other flowers?” You ask, trying to play off that this was the first time he had ever gotten you flowers.

He smirked at you. “They can. Ready to go?”

You two had ended up at a stylish little cocktail garden across town. Jake had reserved a table on the rooftop, pretty hidden from the rest of the crowd. You both selected different specialty cocktails and ordered a quite large charcuterie board.

“This place is cute.” You said sipping your drink and surveying your surroundings.

He flashed you a smile. “I thought you might think so. Very ‘Nashville.’”

You laugh. “Jake, baby, not every place with neon signs is distinctly Nashville.”

You feel your blood run cold as you just realized you had let that word slip out. Fuck these drinks were strong.

Of course he had noticed it too and bit down on his straw giving you a sly smile with those eyes. “Sure, but the fake flowers on the wall and shitty country music makes it feel that way.”

You hold your hands up in defense. “Hey I know you love your dingy little hole in the walls. But time and place for everything. At least enjoy the oxygen that isn’t littered with cigarette smoke.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Since when is cigarette smoke a problem for you?”

You grab your straw and perhaps suggestively take a sip while locking eyes with him. “Time and place for everything Jake.”

When the charcuterie board arrived you both had picked at the selections while continuing to drink. You giggled and laughed and then giggled some more. You were smitten with him yet again. You weren’t dumb, you knew it wouldn’t last. The hell would come. But for now, you allowed yourself to keep your head in the clouds.

“I don’t think I can drive Sugs. Care if we Uber back?” Jake asks, finishing off drink number-hell you had lost count.

“That’s a smart idea. Gonna go to the bathroom before we leave.” You slightly slurred.

The walk to the bathroom proved a little off-kilter. You were on the cusp of tipsy and your brain was swirling with bad decisions.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, lightly rolling on lipgloss and fluffing your hair before making your way back out. Jake had already taken care of the tab and was waiting for you out front.

“Uber should be here in about 15 minutes.”

You nodded and followed him into a crowded elevator. You two had to squeeze in, which meant you were pressed into each other. Jake glanced down at you with a certain look in his eye that made your mouth water. His hand snaked around your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip. A spot that he knew would rile you up. You bit your lip and held your breath. You didn’t dare breathe again until you were at the bottom.

“That elevator was pretty cramped huh?” You played, stepping outside of the building.

He shrugged, matching your walking pace up the sidewalk. “I didn’t mind it.”

You lightly shoved him. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

He smirked at you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

You shoved him again, slightly harder. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

He signed. “You’re done Sugs.” He scooped you up and tickled at your side.

“Jake!” You giggled out through laughter. “Put me down! Jake I swear!”

He continued. “Or what Sugs?”

“Jacob Thomas!”

He laughed. “Okay fine. Fine. No need for government names.”

He placed you down and you braced up against the concrete wall and you fixed your hair that had gone wild. “You don’t play fair.”

He stepped up closer to you and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “There. Perfect as always.”

His eyes searched for yours, his gaze intensely switching to your lips. Fuck it. You pushed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him, hard. There was zero protest from him as his hands immediately found your waist. Warmth flooded your senses and you felt entirely weightless. You lightly bit his bottom lip which caused a small groan to leave his mouth.

“Now who’s not playing fair?” He growled into your ear as his fingers found that spot on your hip.

The intense session was interrupted by Jake’s phone buzzing. He cleared his throat. “Uber’s here.”

You nodded and took his hand as he led you into the car. Neither one of you spoke the whole entire ride home. Jake kept his hand firmly planted on your upper thigh while both of you took stolen glances at one another.

“Thanks.” Jake said, tossing a stack of bills at the driver.

He guided you up to the door, standing close as you fidgeted with your keys.

Finally, once inside and the door was closed. His lips were on yours again. His hands running wildly up and down your body, your hands in his hair as you two shuffled through your house. Somehow you two had made your way into the kitchen.

“Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He panted in between kisses.

He backed you up against the counter, his eyes glaring into yours. Then his rough hands run under your thighs as he lifts you and places you on the counter. Neither one of you had dared to speak yet. Then Jake broke the silence.

“So pretty.” He spat, as his hands ran up under your dress.

You were impossibly turned on. Anticipation sat in your throat like a softball.

You bit your lip as his hands hooked around your panties. He pulled them down and scooted you closer to him. He bunched up your dress right to the very beginning of your thighs.

“So fucking pretty.” He stated again.

You squirmed under his touch as he raked his fingertips around your inner thighs.

“Jake, stop teasing.” You said, though it came out more as a beg.

He smiled at you, then craned his head down and kissed you on your sweetest spot.

A jolt ran through your body.

“So needy. My pretty girl, so needy for me.” He says with a smirk. “Let’s see how wet you are, Sugar.”

He takes one finger and slides it in between you, just grazing. You slightly buck your hips, desperate for some sort of friction. Desperate for that feeling that only Jake had given you.

“Whew, fuck Sugar.” Jake says, taking that same finger and popping it in his mouth. “So sweet, just like I remember. So wet for me.”

You huff out at him. You’re beyond ready to beg, but he can’t have that satisfaction. You have to play the game right back. “As if you’re not about to bulge out of your pants right now. Face it Jake, you’ve never had better.”

He grips your thighs. “You’re right about that. You drive me crazy Sugar. Especially when that pretty mouth says such filthy things.”

“Jake.” You say looking down at him, batting your eyelashes. “Can you just shut up and fuck me?”

His mouth falls open slightly at that and he stares up at you completely enamored.

You use this as an opportunity to tease him. You slide back and open your legs a little more.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” You say with as much sex in your voice that you could muster.

Jake takes in a deep breath and then a devilish smirk appears on his face. “No.” He starts. “But it’s about to.”

He licks a stripe up your thigh whilst holding eye contact with you. Then, he smiles before burying his face in between your legs.

You arch your back and tilt your head backwards as soft moans escape your lips. Jake shimmys your dress up even further, then slides his fingers into you.

“Fuck.” You whined, which only egged him on further.

“Yeah come on baby. Give me all of those pretty little sounds.” He begged.

His fingers worked expertly with his mouth. Like he had your body etched into his mind and he knew how to make you unraveled. Just as you were right there, white hot- he stopped. You unclenched your eyes and looked down at him in shock. He smirked back up at you and lightly bit your thigh.

“Come on Sugs. What’s the rush? Let’s take this to your room.”

You scoffed at him, hopping off the counter and pulling your panties back up. You were bewildered, but you knew him edging you was a sick little kink of his. You followed him into your bedroom where your lips connected once more. You unbuttoned his shirt while he kicked off his shoes. You pushed him back onto the bed where he raised up on his elbows and watched you intently. You slowly began to pull at the sleeves on your dress and dropped it to the floor, leaving you just in the black lacy little number you had just bought.

“God damn.” Jake barely whispered as he watched you with full blown lust.

“Oh this little thing?” You teased running your hands over the lace.

He swallowed hard. “Fuck. You are so fucking hot. I- Get over here please.”

You laughed. “I thought there was no rush?”

You turned around walking towards your dresser, giving him a nice show of your plump ass.

“Oh my god.” He all but groaned. You could sense him twitching over there, just itching to get his hands on you.

You struck a match and lit a small candle. “That’s better isn’t it?”

He nodded.

You walked over to him, slowly. His eyes were trained on you. You straddled his lap and his hands immediately found your hips, the whole entire time you stared into each other’s eyes. So much unspoken. So much unsaid. He leaned in and kissed you with fervor. His hands immediately gripping at the flesh of your ass. You were the first to slip out your tongue, but were met eagerly with his. You worked quickly to undo his belt and pants. He managed to shimmy them off while never breaking the kiss. You both leaned by entirely, you slowly grinded down onto his boxers causing him to almost lose it right there. You would start and get him worked up, then stop. Playing his own game right back at him. This earned you a swift smack on your ass. “You little tease.”

You sat up, fully shifting your lower half on top of him. “What’s wrong Jakey? Can dish it out but can’t take it?”

He let out a laugh. “We gonna play these games all night or are you going to let me fuck you? I can ruin that pretty makeup by having you in tears, begging me to let you come. Or I can fuck you so hard you won’t be able to think straight. Both are equally intriguing to me. Your choice baby.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Still think you’re up for the task? Can you even make me come, Jake?”

In a swift motion he flipped you over, him now on top of you. He pinned your hands above your head, holding them there. “Such a little brat. I could think of a better way to put that mouth to use. Looks like you chose the hard way.”

Excitement bubbled in your chest. No one ever got you this worked up, it was only him.

He released your hands and ripped your panties off of you. He pulled the fabric apart until it ripped.

“Jake!”

He didn’t flinch. “I’ll buy you one hundred more of these, especially if I can take them off of you like this.”

He grabbed your hands again, tying them up in the now ripped lace fabric. He slides down next to you, his fingers finding your center to begin work. After a few seconds you’re already squirming.

“Thought you were clever huh Sug? Asking me if I still can make you come?”

You flutter your eyes closed, trying to recenter yourself. Jake slapped your core. “Eh uh. Eyes on me.”

You pry your eyes open to watch him, trying your best to act like you weren’t on fire inside.

He kissed below your navel, making your shutter. “Did you miss me?”

You refused to answer that.

“Mhm I think you did. Do you touch yourself and think of me?” He asked, in a sickeningly sweet voice as he continued his descent.

“No.” You say, calmly.

He nips at your thigh. “It’s okay if you do. Sometimes I find myself thinking of you, late at night.”

You huffed as he continued to tease you.

“Not as sweet as the real thing though.” He made contact making an obscene slurping sound that made you twitch.

Then he stopped again coming back up to kiss you.

“Taste that? That’s you. My sweet girl.”

“You’ve made your point. Just fucking touch me.” You all but whined.

He chuckled at you. “So demanding.”

He unties your hands while freeing himself from his boxers. Then he flips you around and spreads your knees wider. You arch your back, silently begging for him to enter you.

“Fuck. Now there’s a view I would never get tired of.”

He slides himself all around you, still trying to tease you, but you could tell he was faultering. Slowly, he sunk into you. A moan left both of your mouths. He took his time but finally pushed himself all the way in.

“Ah fuck. Fuck baby.” He cooed.

He reached down and pulled you up, so you were flushed with him. Then reached down and rubbed at your bundles of nerves, sending you almost right over the edge.

“Jake- fuck don’t stop.” You whined.

He bit at your jaw. “Who fucks you like this? Who is the only person who will ever fuck you like this?”

“You! It’s you.” You barely spit out.

That warmness spread all over your body and you were about to explode. You squeezed him with everything you had.

“That’s right. You’re such a good girl Sugar. Fuck.” He grunted.

“Jake I’m- I’m.”

He removed his hand. “I know. I wanna see your face when you come for me.”

He unclasped your bra, tossing it to the side and flipped you over on your back.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

His hands massaged your breasts before lightly biting at your hardened nipples.

You were now in the home stretch, both of you struggling to hold on. Jake hooked your leg up over his shoulder and started to pound into you.

You could see the sweat beginning to trickle on him as his hair stuck to his face and neck. He guided your hand down to your sweet spot and guided you. “Almost there baby. Eyes on me.”

You locked eyes with him and that’s all it took. That wave came crashing down, completely washing you away with it. Jake was right behind you and you could feel him release into you. You gripped his shoulders while his mouth found yours, swallowing all of your sounds.

“Shit.” Jake groaned, rolling off of you. Both of you absolutely spent. Sweat, sex, and panting still filled the air. You reached over and grabbed a pack of American Spirits from your bedside table, they were old but necessary. You flicked a lighter and lit it while Jake looked at you with a smirk.

You shrugged and met his eyes. “Time and place for everything. Remember?”

**

Light filtered in through your blinds the next morning gently waking you. You turned to your side. Empty. Should have figured. Fuck, you were sore. You groaned as you stretched out making your way to the bathroom. You jumped in the shower to wash off the smell of sex and nicotine then brushed your teeth. You couldn’t tell if you were slightly hungover or slightly sad. Of course he left, that’s what he does. Coffee. You needed coffee badly. You tossed a giant band tee on and some cotton underwear and combed through your hair before padding out into your living room. Also empty. The refrigerator was embarrassingly barren. Leftover pizza, expired creamer, and strawberries. You needed to go to the grocery store, badly. You snickered at the thought of Josh seeing your refrigerator like this. He would playfully scold you and force you to Publix. You missed him. A loud noise crashed through your apartment and you jolted out of your thoughts.

“Jake? What the fuck! You scared me!” You clutched your chest.

Jake had bounded through the door with a coffee carrier and brown paper bags. A sight you never thought you would see.

“Don’t look so surprised to see me Sugs. Did you think I would have just up and left.” He asked with a smirk.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Well yeah.”

He shakes his head at you. “I stole your keys so I could let myself back in. Had to Uber to get my car and then I got us breakfast. Hope you like breakfast burritos and coffee that’s a little too sweet.”

A smile twisted up on your lips. That was thoughtful?

“I do. Thank you.” You say, walking over to the counter to grab a coffee. You took a sip, it wasn’t your normal complicated vanilla latte. But it would do.

You both had plopped down at your table, somewhere you had found yourselves often the past few days and ate breakfast together.

“So, Danny and I have a meeting today. Some sort of podcast thing, but I’ll be free after. Care to go out again?” Jake asks, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

You bite your lip. “Josh comes back tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Uh huh.”

“Jake, he can’t know- about any of this really. He would freak out.” You say cautiously.

He gives you a sly smile. “S’okay Sugar. I’ll be your dirty little secret.”

You tap his arm. “I’m serious.”

He sighs at you and holds up a hand. “Fine. Scout’s honor.”

“Then yes, we can go out again tonight. But it can’t be a repeat of last night, I have to pick him up from the airport and do not want to be hungover.” You say, standing your ground.

Jake shrugs. “I dunno, maybe it could just be a little bit of a repeat from last night.”

You crack a smile and shake your head at him. What in the hell had you gotten yourself into again.

**

“I am so happy to see you!” Josh says, climbing into your car and squeezing your shoulders with a hug.

You smile at him. “I missed you too. I can’t wait to hear about all of your adventures.”

He huffs. “I have so many to share. Can I run by my place and shower and then come over? I am craving a home cooked meal so badly.”

You click your blink and laugh. “Well yes, but I don’t have much to cook. You would be appalled at the state of my refrigerator right now.”

“Hey, you have to take care of yourself. Change of plans; I’ll call in Chinese tonight and pick it up on my way over. First thing in the morning we are going grocery shopping.” He says in a caring tone.

“Deal.” You agree.

After dropping Josh off you had decided to tidy up a bit before he came over. You had already done a sweep of your house, making sure there were no remnants of Jake lying around anywhere. You had spent last night together again in a similar fashion to the night before. The last thing you wanted was for Josh to know that.

“These egg rolls are fresh today.” Josh said, stepping into your house.

“Oh I can tell it smells good.” You took the bags from Josh and placed them on the counter.

“Can you turn on that documentary we were watching last week? I’ll be right back, my bladder is about to explode.”

You chuckled and set out all of the food on your coffee table then started searching for whatever you two had previously watched. Once it was queued up you grabbed and extra blanket and waited for Josh. A few moments later he came walking into your living room.

“Shelves?”

You turned around and made a face at him. “What?”

He pointed behind him. “You hung your bathroom shelves?”

Fuck.

“Oh-uh yeah. It wasn’t too hard actually.” You tried to say as nonchalantly as possible.

He made a face at you. “Where did you get the tools?”

You shrugged. “I borrowed them from a neighbor. Come on, I'm starving and this food is going to get cold!”

He chewed on his cheek and eventually joined you on the couch. You hated lying to him, but the alternative would be worse.

That night you two had ended up asleep on the couch. You were wrapped in Josh’s arms, but his twin was the one occupying your mind.

***

Thank you for reading!!! <3

[tears-of-amber]

Finally getting back in the flow of things as a pagan witch! Advice for people like me who get distracted very easy by random things (adhd, autism, borderline personality disorder, etc can contribute to this).

1. Don’t beat yourself up about your random thoughts and sudden hyperfixations that distract you from your practice. The gods aren’t going to bitch slap you for fangirling over a book or movie or show and forgetting to do your rituals you had planned. From my observations, us humans are somewhat like crows. We see shiny thing? We must have it. We must enjoy it! We forget anything else ever existed until next shiny thing appears! There’s no shame in this. It’s just how neurodivergent brains ✨thrive✨.

2. Start gently when returning to your practice. No need to slam yourself with a huge ritual right after taking a break or hyperfixating on Lord of the Rings for a span of three weeks. Maybe do a five minute meditation instead of a 30 minute one (if you even like meditating, as it’s not for everyone). Try lighting a candle while you do your homework or work on a project to honor deity of your choosing in a nonchalant way.

3. You can even find ways to incorporate your needs for hyperfixating into your practice! Watch that show you love with a god or goddess you think would appreciate it! I recently watched American Horror Story with Hela and Loki! Vibes for days! ☺️✨ And Freyja and I love a good dramatic 90s romance show like Felicity. So just play it by ear!

Hope this helps!

[corviisquire]

Creatures have colors!!

Left to Right: @moonchild-in-blue @leonsleftbicep @ghxstly-death

@pear-island

Left to Right: @a-s-levynn @foundationsofdecay @polteergeistt

They have been colored along with making some minor adjustments. If anyone wants anything changed please let me know! These creatures are yours so name them whatever you want, develop lore if ya want, and do whatever you want with them. Possible next batch will probably be made later next week.

Art notes under cut :D

I put some music drops because music inspires me too much.

Moonchild-in-blue: The blues and purples!! Opals and the insides of muscle shells inspired me a lot with the coloring (particularly the stars and moon). There’s another shell that has that shiny blue and green lining on the inside but I can’t remember the name of it. It was a full moon last night but I forgot to take a picture! Thought of you but anyways I loved coloring the lady. It was fun but I first I struggled on deciding if I wanted more blue or purple.

Some songs I listened to a lot while coloring this:

Sweet Disposition - Temper Trap

Moon Child - F16s

The Night Does Not Belong to God - you know who

Leonsleftbicep: Colors go crazy! Idk what your favorite colors are but I chose The Blue. I also incorporated some red (for yummy contrast and complementary colors). I realized this looked very vampire media core. EyAH enjoy the critter!

Some songs I listened to while coloring this:

Blue Monday - Orgy

Military Fashion Show - And One

The Apparition - do I really need to say who?

Ghxstly-death: Per your request, red and black was incorporated! Was inspired by Mohg, Lord of Blood, from Elden ring cause he has cool robes and a trident thingy. I really like how it turned out. Like I’ve been doing with every design is adding the bling and I felt gold would work well.

Was resisting the urge to put the entire One EP right here:

Get The Balance Right! - Depeche Mode

Mascara - Deftones

Jaws - Slep tonka

SEVEN HOUR SHITTER (pearisland/perryisle): You use bright colors in your art all the time so we got the colors goingggg. Little guy reminds me of Pumpkin Patch protagonist or Hollow Knight. Idk. Not much to say except TRIPLE DEATH SLIME BARRAGE!!!

No normal music for you. only Kevin Macleod and Pizza Tower ST.

A-s-levynn: More Dark Sun Gwyndolin inspiration… (you can tell I have my dark souls art books open next to me right now). As requested, tendrils/tentacles were added! I think it improved the design a whole lot because it was originally very symmetrical and the tentacles added just the right amount of asymmetry to balance out the overall look. I’m a huge fromsoft fan (playing Elden Ring, waiting for new DLC, have dark souls 1 remastered but haven’t started it yet, have bloodborne Elden ring and DS1/3 art books) so lots of my art has elements from Fromsoft games (neutron activation).

And just like everyone else, some music for the soul:

Too Late - 311

Scared Together - Silversun Pickups

Dark Signs - eepy coin

Foundationsofdecay: Again, taking more inspiration from your blog, colors and stuff. The design had subconscious influence from the game sky: children of the light. Had lotsa fun coloring it. I don’t know much about you like favorite colors or flowers but I tried my best!

Songs that inspired me:

Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Flux - Bloc Party

Rain - tired currency

Polteergeistt: The oarfish colors… A lot Of these characters have cool blues so I tried to use some teal blues to contrast the red/pink(?). “Nintendo switch core” I’m sobbing. I fixed the feet. Now my Pinterest is filled to the brim with fish images (specifically oarfish, sea jellies, and blue lobsters).

The music!!!!!:

UNDERWATER BOI - Turnstile

The Illness (Teenagers Remix) - GoodBooks

Descending - exhausted dollar

Thank you so much. All of you are such lovely people. 🫂💕🫶

[callunavulgari]

Chapter 6 is up for our @steddiebang2024 project! Chapter banner by the lovely @firefly-party! <3

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It has been exactly thirteen days since Eddie heard a peep from Steve’s apartment. Thirteen excruciating days. A few weeks ago, he would have been absolutely tickled by this development. No Cher at six AM? No blender? No obnoxious drunken warbling in the middle of the night? Count him the fuck in for a little bit of peace and quiet.

And, Eddie will confess, for the first few days, there was some small element of relief. He got to sleep in for the first time in weeks. More importantly, he managed to sleep through an entire night, completely undisturbed.

Only… the silence began to stretch. A few days turned into a week. Into two.

It’s not that Steve isn’t there. Eddie can still hear him sometimes, but it’s like the volume has been turned down on Steve himself. Like whatever bright thing in his chest that kept him singing in the face of all the bullshit was just… gone. Wiped clean. Snuffed out.

And Eddie’s beginning to realize that he’s actually concerned. That somewhere along the way, something resembling affection began to take root beneath his ribs whenever Steve started up with his bullshit. He could still get annoyed about waking up early while also having a bit of a soft spot for the guy.

The cat that Eddie had only realized after its third visit to Casa de Munson was actually Steve’s cat has also been showing up more and more often. It shows up mostly when Eddie’s playing something, but what had started with a few occasional visits had turned into an every other day occurrence. It’s gotten to the point that Eddie doesn’t even know if Steve has noticed that his entire cat is missing. 

If it were anyone else, Eddie would just seize the cat up in his arms, march his happy ass into the hallway and pound on Steve’s door, demanding that he look after the fucker properly so it’s not on Eddie’s conscience if the poor thing plummets six stories to its death.

When he tells Chrissy about it during their now weekly meetup, she frowns at him.

They’re at Eddie’s place and the plan for the day had been to basically eat their weight in takeout and marathon Lord of the Rings, because she made the mistake of mentioning in Eddie’s earshot that she’d never seen the movies. Now though, she’s looking at his wall like she’s seriously considering going over there and interrupting Steve’s morning to tell him that his weirdo neighbor is worried for his mental health.

“Have you tried to reach out to him at all?” she asks, drawing her legs up onto the chair next to her as she continues to frown at the wall, chewing idly on her lip. “You said that you’ve at least heard him moving around, right? He’s not, y'know—” she pauses to lower her voice into a tentative, guilty sort of whisper, “—dead?”

Eddie shakes his head. On screen, Gandalf calls Pippin an idiot again. “Definitely not. I can still hear him, he’s just… quiet.” He zones out in the general direction of the screen for a solid thirty seconds, then turns to her properly. “It’s not weird that I’m worried about this, right? Like, I’m not overthinking things? Because you know me, chronic overthinker here. But I actually think that something might be wrong.”

Chrissy leans over and pats the back of his hand. Her fingers are still sticky from the strawberry-iced donut that she just finished, but Eddie doesn’t mind. “Listen to your gut then, Eddie. Maybe you just need to reach out.”

Eddie makes a face. “I don’t want to be weird though. Who drops in to do a wellness check on a neighbor that they haven’t even met? What am I gonna say?” He pitches his voice higher, makes it go squeaky and mocking as he simpers, “‘Sorry, man, I know that we haven’t been formally introduced yet, but I’m really starting to miss the Mamma Mia soundtrack being piped through my walls at all hours of the night.’”

Chrissy shrugs, popping one of Eddie’s donut holes into her mouth. “I mean, I would. But maybe I’m weird.”