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keeryhours · 2 days ago

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teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 1

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Part 2

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), pregnancy, angst, sort of cheating but not really

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N:

I have worked SO HARD on this fic y’all. I really wanted to post the whole thing (27k words) but tumblr wouldn’t let me. So here we have part 1! Part 2 will be out tomorrow! I also want to give a big shoutout to my bestie @punkrockmlchael for the banner and for my friends and beta readers @glassbxttless @lesservillain @fizzing-imagines @the-witty-pen-name!

‘King’ Steve Harrington never paid any attention to you until he started dating your best friend, Nancy Wheeler. It had been a surprise when he asked her out - you, Nancy, and Barb had been quiet and stayed off to yourselves. You were a tight knit friend group, but certainly not popular. So when Steve asked Nancy out, you and Barb had been skeptical.

“Are you sure he has the best intentions?” Barb asked. “Because it’s Steve Harrington. He goes through girls like crazy.”

“Agreed,” you added. “I’m suspicious.”

“Guys, he’s actually really nice!” Nancy always defended him. “And it’s not even that serious. We just made out once…or twice.”

You and Barb exchanged a look. You didn’t really believe Steve had changed. You feared your best friend was going to get her heart broken, badly.

“What do you guys have in common anyway?” Barb asked. “He’s not, you know…exactly an honor student.”

“Barb!” Nancy scolded with a laugh. “He’s actually really sweet and funny. And a good kisser.”

You and Barb got lost in a fit of giggles at that. It was the first time any of you were having any kind of experience with a guy. The three of you were always overlooked by the guys of Hawkins High, but you didn’t really mind. There were more important things than high school relationships. It was a little exciting, though.

“So is he your boyfriend yet?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face.

“No,” Nancy said, blushing. “I don’t know if he-“

You were all surprised when Steve came seemingly out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around Nancy and making her squeal as he lifted her off the ground. It was sickeningly sweet.

“Steve!” She mock scolded him as he sat her down, and she playfully slapped his chest.

“What? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Steve said, suave grin on his handsome face.

“It’s been like 2 hours,” Nancy laughed.

“Tell me about it,” Steve said, pulling her in for a kiss. You and Barb looked away, feeling awkward.

Finally Steve acknowledged the two of you, giving you both a polite smile. “Sorry. Can I steal Nance for a few?”

Before either of you could say anything, Steve was leading a giggling Nancy away, leaving you and Barb alone.

“I just hope she doesn’t forget about us,” Barb said.

—

“Steve wants us to go to Tina’s halloween party,” Nancy said at her locker before lunch. You and Barb exchanged a look.

“All of us?” You asked, skeptically.

“Yes, all of us,” Nancy said, attempting to reassure you both. “I wouldn’t want to go at all if you guys couldn’t come.”

“It’s not exactly…our scene,” Barb said. Her brows were furrowed as she pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “I don’t know if they really want us there, Nance.”

“Who cares?” Nancy said. “We should just go and be stupid teenagers and have fun for once.”

It took some convincing, Barb more than you, but finally you agreed to go together. You picked out a costume - a short, sexy red dress with devil horns on your head. You thought about someone maybe being interested in you at the party - you had to admit to yourself that you were a little jealous of Nancy’s relationship with Steve. It got lonely, sometimes.

Steve was picking all three of you up. Your house was the first on the way, so he picked you up first. You felt nervous as you walked down the driveway and got into the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

“Hey,” he greeted you, giving you his usual charming smile. You definitely understood what Nancy saw in him - Steve was handsome. “You look great.”

“You too,” you said, and he did. He and Nancy had gone with a couples costume - Risky Business - and he looked very good. He had a pair of sunglasses stuck in the front of his black shirt.

You mostly rode in silence on the way to the Wheeler’s house, Steve’s radio playing softly in the background. When Nancy came walking out of the house, Steve’s face lit up, and something in you sunk as you climbed out to slide into the back seat.

You felt a little better when you picked up Barb and she joined you in the back, making you feel less like an awkward third wheel. She was dressed like a librarian, which was honestly very normal for her.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. You and Barb trailed behind Steve and Nancy into the house, following them straight to the punch bowl. Steve made a drink for all three of you. Barb took a tiny sip of hers, making a face. You tried yours, but it wasn’t too bad. Strong, though.

The party was less painful than you’d feared. You mostly stayed off to the side with Barb, drinking on your own. You watched the partygoers dance together, including Steve and Nancy, and you longed to join them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

At some point you lost your friends, leaving you standing in the kitchen alone. Nancy and Steve had disappeared into a bathroom, Nancy wiping at a big red punch stain on the front of her shirt. You’d watched them go, wondering what happened between them.

You continued sipping at your drink, watching the party rage on around you. The alcohol was making you less self conscious and more loose, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to join in. You wished you could. You wondered what it would like to be popular, or even to just be a normal teenage girl.

It wasn’t long before you spotted Nancy again, drunk as hell and angry.

“Where are you going?” You asked her as she drunkenly stormed through the party with Jonathan Byers and Barb trailing behind her.

“Home,” she slurred, stumbling over her own feet. You were too drunk to properly question it, simply watching as she left with Jonathan and Barb in tow. Jonathan seemed sober, at least. No one asked you if you wanted a ride, too. You figured you would ‘enjoy’ the party a little longer, figure out how you were getting home later.

You turned around and walked right into Steve Harrington.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking way more upset than the last time you’d seen him. He looked like he might have been crying, his eyes red rimmed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, looking him over with concern.

He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s…it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” you said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve considered your offer. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about Nancy right now, but getting back to the party didn’t sound like much fun either. He also didn’t really want to go home and be alone. “Sure. Okay.”

That’s how you ended up alone in a bedroom with Steve, sitting awkwardly next to each other on Tina’s parents’ bed. Steve sighed, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Me and Nancy…I don’t know,” he started, like he couldn’t find his words. “I know she’s your best friend. I’m not trying to say anything bad about her. I love her. But I think we might be over.”

“Why do you think that?” You asked softly. You knew Nancy really liked Steve. This was their first real argument, and it seems like it was a big one.

“She just…” he sighed again. “She said we’re bullshit. What does that even mean? That she doesn’t love me?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said. “Nancy really cares about you-“

“But does she love me?” He gestured with his hand then let it flop onto his lap in defeat. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does. I don’t know why she would.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because I’m…” He gestured again, like he didn’t know how to articulate what he was trying to say. “I’m me. I’m an asshole. I’m dumb. I care too much about being popular. She’s too good for me.”

“Steve, that’s not true,” you said, laying your hand over his. “You’re an incredible person. I mean, sure you have a reputation, but since you’ve dated Nancy I’ve gotten to see some of the real you, and…I like the real Steve.”

He slowly looked up at you. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You smiled gently. “I like the real Steve a lot.”

Steve’s eyes searched yours. His gaze darted down to your lips for only a second before meeting your eyes again. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

You were shocked at first, your eyes going wide. But you quickly melted into his kiss - it felt so right. Steve moaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer to you. The kiss turned heated fast, Steve’s tongue slipping into your mouth and pressing against your own. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy rhythm, your kisses hungry and desperate for one another.

His hands trailed under your dress, feeling the smooth skin of your plush thighs, one hand sliding between your legs to tease you through your panties. You gasped - you’d never been touched there before. It was new, exciting. You were wet already, and Steve could feel it.

“Wet for me?” He mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip and making you gasp. “I can feel you.”

You blushed deeply, feeling ashamed. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was gross?

He didn’t seem like he thought it was gross. He seemed like he liked it. He pressed against something that had you moaning against his mouth, your grip on his shirt tightening.

“Have you ever been touched before?” He asked, hand slipping beneath your panties. His fingers traced between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers before he started rubbing against that bundle of nerves again.

“No,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “Never.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You didn’t know that. No guy had ever said that to you before. You thankfully didn’t have to say anything because Steve pressed his lips to yours again, kissing any words away. It felt weird to have his tongue pressing against your own, the way his hands grabbed at you, like he wanted you.

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, pulling at your red dress. You heart thundered in your chest, wondering what was going to happen, if you were really about to lose your virginity to Steve Harrington. Who was your best friend’s boyfriend - or, used to be.

You nodded, and Steve smiled, pushing you back onto the bed. He climbed over you, slowly kissing from your legs upwards as he pushed the dress higher and higher. You were shaking, nervous even through the haze of the alcohol. But his touch was so nice, it felt so good, you wanted to keep going.

He pushed the dress over your head until you were left in nothing but your bra and panties, suddenly horrifically self conscious. You crossed your arms over your body on instinct.

Steve gently grabbed your arms, moving them down. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You don’t have to hide from me. I love your body.”

He sat up then, removing his shirt. His chest was muscular, and he had a lot of chest hair. It was hot, manly. You rubbed over his chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles, the skin beneath your touch. He shivered on instinct, a low moan coming from his lips.

You could feel how hard he was from where he was pressed against your thigh. He grinded against you, moaning, and you felt scared - he seemed big. You didn’t know how you were going to take him - you’d never taken anybody before, and Steve seemed like an advanced place to start.

He reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, removing it completely. His lips found your nipple right away and you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan - it was unexpected and new, but it felt good. Steve sucked on it, running his tongue around it, making you arch your back into his mouth. His hand played with your other nipple until he switched, giving them both attention.

When he was done, he kissed down your chest and stomach, back down to your panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, looking up at you. “Can I?”

You looked at him. “Can you what?”

Steve chuckled. “Taste you?”

You didn’t really know what he meant by that. “Um, sure?”

Steve smiled at you, then he pulled your panties down your legs. You felt infinitely more exposed now - no one had ever seen you there before. There were a lot of firsts tonight. Steve spread your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t groaned at the sight.

He lowered himself between your legs, and you gasped loudly when you felt Steve’s tongue between your folds. He groaned again as he began to devour you, sucking at your clit and running his tongue over it.

The feeling was like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life. You moaned uncontrollably, hands shooting down to tangle in Steve’s hair. He moaned against your pussy as he ate you, loving every moment of it.

Steve was grinding his hips against the bed, his cock rock hard and aching beneath his pants. He lapped up every bit of wetness you gave him, you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

“Christ,” he moaned against you, truly burying his face into you and breathing in your scent. “You taste so good. I can’t get enough.”

You were losing your mind. Pitchy moans spilling from your lips, body writhing on the bed. Whatever he was doing was incredible, it made your body feel like it was full of electricity, a coil tightening deep in your belly.

“Steve…Steve…” you moaned, pulling on his locks. You started grinding yourself against his face, desperate for more more more, desperate for him to never stop. You thought you might die if he did.

You felt something pressing against your entrance, making you jump. “What…what are you…?”

“Jus’ getting you ready,” he hummed against you. “‘s okay?”

You were too out of it to think much about it. “Um…yes.”

You gasped loudly at the intrusion of his finger pressing inside you. You’d never even done this to yourself before, the feeling completely foreign. Weird, but good. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, you were so wet there was hardly any resistance.

You were so lost in the pleasure he was giving you that you barely noticed when he began pushing a second finger inside. But suddenly you were even more full, his fingers curling deep inside you and pressing against something that had you moaning his name even louder.

“Steve! Oh, fuck-“

“That’s it,” he moaned against you, “just like that. You gonna cum for me?”

You whined in response, shaking hand tightening in his hair. He chuckled, moving back to suck on your clit again and sending you reeling. He pumped his fingers faster and faster, your back arching off the bed as your vision began going white.

“Oh, god- fuck! Steve, ohmygod, holy shit-“

Steve put his all into it as your orgasm hit you, working you through the most mind blowing experience of your life. How was he so good? You felt like you’d died and gone to heaven.

“That’s it, baby, cum f’me,” he encouraged you, but as the orgasm intensified you began grinding against his tongue, shutting him up happily. He moaned against you, sending vibrations through your clit.

He rode you through it until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were pushing him away and he was grinning with the confidence only King Steve could possess. You suddenly understood the nickname.

He kissed up your body, working his way back up to your lips. He quickly undid his pants, shoving them and his boxers down his legs. You were right - he was huge. He wrapped a hand around his massive cock, slowly stroking it as he looked down at your body.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he slurred, and he wobbled a bit as he sat up on his knees. The room felt like it was tilting back and forth, like you were on a boat. It was not helping the nausea building in your stomach.

Steve spread your legs, settling himself between them. He grinded his cock through your folds, coating it in your wetness as he nipped and sucked at your neck. “Y’ready?”

“Uh…yeah,” you said, holding onto Steve’s shoulders. It made you feel safer somehow.

His thick tip pressed against your entrance, and you let out a loud gasp as he pushed through, stretching you around his cock. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss as he slowly pushed deeper inside.

“Fuck. You are so tight.” His breath was coming out in huffs of hot air against the skin of your neck, quiet moans beginning to spill from his lips as he bullied his cock further into you. “Shit. You can take it. I know y’can take it. Just let me in, baby.”

You tried your best to relax your muscles, trying to just lose yourself to the feeling and let Steve have you. It was starting to feel good, the deeper he filled you the more full you felt. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Steve moaned loudly into your neck once he bottomed out, pumping into you shallowly a few times before he pulled farther back, slapping his hips into you. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan, your eyes squeezing shut.

“You okay?” he asked, but it was obvious in his expression that he was desperate to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you said. “You can keep going.”

Steve smiled down at you before pressing his lips to yours again and setting a quick pace fucking into you. The sounds of your skin meeting and the bed - Tina’s parents’ bed - creaking from Steve’s movements filled the large bedroom. You worried people would be able to hear you from the hall.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Steve praised, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So good f’me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, baby?”

You whined in response, brain complete mush as Steve fucked you and the room spun around. You closed your eyes, hoping to calm the situation.

Steve pushed your legs up higher, pressing your thighs into your body and spreading your legs wide. This allowed him to get way deeper than before, and now he was letting out desperate moans, losing himself in the pleasure of you.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” he said as his thrusts became sloppy and fast, his cheeks, neck, and chest flushing red. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, are you gonna take it, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, not even processing the question. There were no thoughts of condoms, no thoughts of pulling out even. Neither of you thinking, Steve neared his release inside you, holding onto you tightly.

“Take it, take it,” he cried out, biting down on your neck as he let out one last guttural groan, spilling his cum into you, every last drop as he rode out his high. You held onto him, feeling all of him.

Steve’s chest was heaving with his breaths as he pushed up on his arms, placing a kiss to your lips before he pulled out, collapsing on his back. You didn’t know what to say. You just laid there for a few minutes until Steve eventually rolled over to the side of the bed, standing and pulling his clothes back on. He tossed you your dress and you used it to cover your body, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he said as he slipped his shoes back on. “It’s been a long night.”

—

The next Monday, Steve and Nancy walked into school hand in hand. Your heart stopped in your chest at the sight, guilt eating you from the inside out. You tried not to get sick over it as you went through your day, until you got to talk to Nancy and Barb at your lockers.

“He came to my house with flowers,” Nancy said, smiling. “He said he was sorry and he didn’t want to be without me.”

“Aww!” Barb said, hand over her heart. “That’s so cute. He really cares about you.”

“Yeah,” was all you could add, because you knew you were the worst friend on the planet.

You were even more surprised later that day when someone grabbed your arm on the way to lunch. You turned to see Steve, looking at you seriously. “Can we talk?”

You hadn’t seen Steve since he’d been inside of you, you know, taking your virginity, a couple days ago, and that was the only thing going through your mind at that moment. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Steve led you down the hall and into the library, opening the door for you to one of the study rooms. You followed him inside and he shut the door, turning to you with an expression that told you how stressed out he was.

“Look,” he said, “about Tina’s party - what we did - I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that. I…really care about Nancy, and I don’t want to hurt her. I want to be with her.”

You just listened to him speak, his words only intensifying the ache in your chest. You knew it was coming, but it still hurt. You didn’t say anything, waiting for Steve to continue.

“I just don’t want this to get out,” he said slowly. “So…is it okay if we keep this between us? Never to repeat or be talked about?” He looked at you hopefully, praying you would keep the secret.

“Oh,” you said. “Sure. I won’t tell.”

“Awesome,” Steve said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “You know, it would just hurt Nance if she knew. And it’s never going to happen again, so there’s no point in her knowing, right?”

You weren’t sure you truly agreed, but you nodded along anyway. “Okay.”

“Good.” Steve smiled softly at you. His large hand rubbed your upper arm. “Thanks for understanding.”

The rest of the school day was extremely awkward - at least for you. Nancy and Barb were totally oblivious to what you’d done, and Steve was acting like he barely knew you.

You wondered if this was something he’d done before - taking girls’ virginity’s and then acting like it never happened, leaving them behind. When you slept together, you hadn’t exactly thought you and Steve would be together after (well, you were drunk so you weren’t thinking much at all), but you didn’t think he’d just go back to Nancy like nothing happened.

Something about it stung.

And they stayed together. This wasn’t the fling you had originally warned Nancy it might be. They seemed really into each other, which was really unfortunate for you, because you realized something that left you horrified.

You had developed feelings for Steve Harrington.

You always thought it was bullshit when they said in church as a kid that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away, but you had truly given Steve a piece of yourself you couldn’t get back. But he hadn’t done the same for you.

Maybe it was different for guys? Or maybe you were just an idiot who fell for her best friend’s boyfriend after having sex with him.

It was hard to look Nancy or even Barb in the eye at all. Steve may have been able to forget what you did, but you couldn’t. You had betrayed your lifelong best friend. How were you supposed to keep this to yourself? You didn’t deserve their friendship.

Of course Nancy noticed your extreme self loathing - she was always perceptive. Steve’s just lucky he was better at lying than you.

“Are you okay?” She asked you after school one day while you and Barb were studying in her bedroom. “You seem upset lately.”

Oh, god. It was going to come out. You were going to blow it.

“I’ve just been kinda sad,” you said. “Just…stressed with college applications coming up.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Barb said, a weary sigh coming from deep in her chest. “I’m worried I don’t have the grades. I want to go to Emerson with you guys, but I don’t have an extra curricular either.”

You were grateful as the conversation easily transitioned into college applications and the upcoming test in Mrs. O’Donnells. Your brain was elsewhere.

Not only were you consumed with guilt, but also the memory of Steve all over you, his hands, his mouth, his cock-

“Are we still having our movie night this weekend?” Barb asked a bit later as you were all preparing to leave.

“Oh,” Nancy said sheepishly, a blush rising to her pale cheeks. “Actually, Steve planned a surprise date this weekend. I’m not sure what we’re doing, but…” she giggled. “I don’t know. He might want to do more.”

Your head snapped up then. “You guys haven’t had sex yet?”

Nancy blushed even deeper. “No. I’ve been nervous. I want it to be with the right person at the right time. But I think we might this weekend.”

You felt sick. Not only had Steve slept with you before Nancy - your best friends couldn’t even know you’d lost your virginity - but now he was probably going to actually have sex with her. You wanted to say something, to stop it, but what could you say?

Nothing.

So you watched Nancy gushing about Steve and pretended it wasn’t killing you inside, pretending like you didn’t have feelings for him and never had. You were pretty good at pretending, after all.

—

It had been two months since the hookup when you started getting sick. You assumed it was a stomach bug at first, to the point that you let your mom take you to the doctor - only to get the biggest news of your life.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor said, and you were suddenly grateful you’d told your mom you didn’t need her to go back with you.

The news had sent you reeling. There in the doctor’s office, your head spun, your vision dotting like you might pass out. Because this could not be happening. There was only one potential father, and he couldn’t be, he was with Nancy, you couldn’t do this-

The doctor gave you pamphlets on your different options, which you hastily stuffed into your bag. You weren’t ready to tell your parents about this yet. When you walked out of the office and your mom asked what the doctor said, all you could say was “Nothing, just a virus.”

“Did they give you any medicine?”

Yeah, a prescription for prenatal vitamins. “No, mom.”

Your mom looked worried. “Maybe we should go somewhere for a second opinion, you’ve been so sick it’s not normal-“

“Mom, I’m really fine,” you attempted to assure her. Please, you were not ready to come out with this yet. To anyone.

“I’m just worried,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to be sick.”

“I promise I’m okay.” You gave her the most encouraging smile you could muster. “I’m feeling better today already.”

That was not true. You were getting sicker by the day, the “morning sickness” (more like all day sickness) kicking your ass. You knew this was your fault, but you still found yourself mad at Steve. Both of you had drunkenly agreed to sex without a condom, so it wasn’t really fair to put the blame on him, but when you were on your knees in front of the toilet for the 15th time that day, you didn’t care much about fair.

You were utterly panicked over the idea of being pregnant. What did this mean for your future? College? Falling in love one day? What guy your age wants to settle down with a step kid?

You considered abortion, but ultimately decided not to. Adoption was also considered, but you figured this was your baby, and you wanted to keep it. You felt bonded to it. Like whatever came, you were in this together.

What about Steve? How would he feel about this? Not good, you could imagine. He was still going strong with Nancy, and-

Oh god, Nancy.

She would never forgive you. Your friendship was over. You ruined everything. Barb would probably hate you, too. You would be friendless, boyfriendless, and pregnant.

Great. Good decisions, you thought to yourself.

You kept the news to yourself for weeks. You couldn’t bear to tell a single soul. Who could you tell? No one would be happy for you. Every person you had to tell would end in disaster.

It was weird, seeing Steve with Nancy, happy and like you never even existed, while you carried his child. You felt an internal longing towards him, like maybe the baby knew who their father was. Which was crazy, because it was still only cells working to become a human being.

You had your first ultrasound before you told anyone. You borrowed the car and drove yourself, stomach in knots as you waited in the waiting room. The ultrasound itself was uncomfortable - you always thought of them like they were in the movies, the little wand on your belly, but they explained that this early they usually do an internal ultrasound, which is just as unpleasant as it sounds.

You watched as the image showed up on the screen. The tiny little vaguely human shaped blob, wiggling around in there - inside of you. Alive. The tech took measurements, and you even heard the heartbeat. It took your breath away. You wondered what Steve would think if he knew, if he’d been there to experience it.

The tech said you were 9 weeks pregnant, due in July, which lined up perfectly with Halloween night. Not that there were any other possibilities. She printed you a bunch of photos, showing the tiny baby from multiple different angles.

As you left with the photos clutched in your hand, you wondered how long you had before you were forced to come clean about this. Not long, you figured. Would it be better to just come out and say it now?

No. You weren’t doing that. You were not ready for that.

Going to school with this secret held deep inside was a lot already. It felt like everyone who saw you knew, even though that was impossible. Like it was written on your forehead.

Having to face Nancy and Barb was even worse. They treated you just like normal, like their best friend, meanwhile you were hiding the biggest secret possible beneath your sweater.

Seeing Nancy with Steve was even worse. They were so happy together. You knew they had to be sleeping together by now. You were nothing but a distant memory, a cheap hookup, another one of King Steve’s conquests.

Except that wasn’t true. The baby growing in your belly proved that. This was one hookup he’d never forget.

—

When you were 13 weeks pregnant, you noticed the smallest bump in the mirror. It took your breath away as your hand rubbed over it, the firm mound of your stomach seemingly popped overnight. This was bad. This meant you were out of time.

You dressed in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, which was not your usual style whatsoever. Nancy and Barb immediately noticed something was up when you met them at your lockers.

“Are you sick?” Nancy asked, reaching for your forehead with the back of her hand like your mom.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m just not feeling great.”

Nancy looked at you sympathetically. “Maybe you should go home. I can bring you some soup after school.”

You shook your head - “I can’t. I’ve already missed too much school.” Between the days you’d missed with your morning sickness and the days you’d have to miss for appointments, it was woefully true.

Nancy still looked concerned. “I’m just worried about you. You look rough. I don’t want you being sick at school-“

She was cut off with a squeal as Steve came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He whispered something in her ear that had her giggling before he turned to you. His brows furrowed like he was thinking something, but he didn’t say anything to

you.

“Ready to get to class?” he asked Nancy. He’d taken to walking her to every single one of her classes. It would have been sweet if not for your current situation.

“Oh, sure,” Nancy said, closing her locker. She turned to you. “You’ll let me know if you feel any worse, right?”

The guilt ate at you. Yeah, Nancy, thanks for caring about me, I’m just sick because I’m carrying your boyfriend’s baby. “Yeah, I will.”

Steve gave you another lingering look before he walked off with Nancy, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

It was later that day when you caught Steve alone. You approached him quickly, taking your chance before you could talk yourself out of it. “Steve. Can I talk to you?”

There was a certain dread on his face that almost made you wonder if he already knew what you were going to say. “Um. Yeah, I guess.”

You found yourselves back in the library study pod you’d had your first conversation in, which felt…poetic. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, fidgeting and uncomfortable as he leaned against the study table. his gaze darted around, like he didn’t want to meet your eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked. He was ready to get this over with, whatever it was.

“I…” you thought for a moment about what the best way to break the news would be. You realized you probably should have planned your words, that would have made this a hell of a lot easier.

Steve looked at you expectantly. He didn’t want to say get on with it, but at the same time…. “What is it?”

You fiddled with your bag strap, feeling sick to your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve just looked at you like he didn’t even hear you. He just blinked. Then, finally, a grin spread across his face, which had you confused.

“Ha, ha. Good one,” he said, bowing his head as if he respected the joke. “You had me scared for a minute there.”

“Steve, I…” you tightened your grip on the strap of your bag, wishing you were anywhere but in your current situation. “I’m not joking. I’m being serious.”

His smile dropped immediately. He started sweating, feeling like his shirt was too tight and he couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning. He leaned on the table for support. “No. You’re not.”

“I am,” you said, frustrated at the way Steve seemed to be choosing to not understand or believe you. “I’m pregnant, Steve. For real.”

He shook his head. “No. No way. It’s not mine.”

You jerked back as if you’d been slapped. “What do you mean it’s not yours?”

“It’s not…there’s n-no way it’s mine,” he said, his voice shaking as he stuttered over his words. He scrambled desperately in his own brain for any way out of this, anything that would disprove his involvement in all of this, but he came up with nothing.

“Steve, you’re the only person I’ve ever had sex with and you know that,” you hissed at him through gritted teeth, having gone from scared to pissed off that Steve really had the nerve to deny this baby.

“I don’t know, maybe you hooked up with someone after me. I wouldn’t know. And then you come telling me it’s mine because my family has money? Well-“

“Are you serious?” You raised your voice slightly, making Steve look around in a panic as he tried to shush you. “You know it’s yours. And you’re really accusing me of wanting your money? I don’t give a fuck about your money. I just thought you deserved to know you’re gonna be a dad.”

Steve paled. “I-I…there’s no way, there’s-“

“I know this is a lot to take in,” you said. “Believe me. I know.”

“Can you prove- can you prove it?” he asked, but it was obvious he was just scared, grasping at anything that would make this go away, anything that would make this not real.

You lifted your sweatshirt. The bump was obvious, perfectly round, and not at all in a ‘maybe you just gained some weight’ kind of way. Steve somehow went even more pale, and you suddenly worried he might pass out.

“Shit,” he hissed. “I- what- how far are you? How long have you known?”

“I found out a month ago. I’m 13 weeks.” You fished the ultrasound photos out of your bag, handing them over to Steve. His hands were shaking terribly as he took them from you, looking over the distinctly baby shaped blob growing inside of you, and sure enough your name was printed at the top.

“How…how many weeks are there? In a pregnancy?” Steve asked, feeling like a total idiot.

You didn’t treat him like one. “40.”

Steve let out a rush of air. “Okay. There’s time. Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the style that probably took him an hour this morning. “What…do you want to do? About the baby?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like, do I want to keep it?”

“Well…yeah,” he said. “Do you?”

“It’s too late for an abortion,” you said. “But…I had decided I wanted to keep it. Him or her. I couldn’t…I don’t think I could carry a baby and give them up.”

Steve nodded slowly. It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear, but what he expected to hear. He understood, in a way. He didn’t love the idea of an abortion or adoption either. “Okay. Um. What happens now?”

You didn’t know either, to be honest. “Well, um…do you want to be…are you going to be involved?”

“With…the baby?”

“Yes, Steve.”

He looked around, took a deep breath. “Well, like. It is my kid, right? So…I’m not going to abandon it. Or you. I’m not…I’m not like that, I swear. I own up to my shit.”

“You just tried to tell me I was lying about it being yours for your money-“

“Okay,” Steve said, holding a hand up, “I get it. I’m sorry. I just panicked, okay? This isn’t exactly great news right now.”

“What about Nancy?”

Those words were like a bomb dropped in the tiny room. No one said anything - it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out, like a vacuum. No one knew the answer to that question. What about Nancy?

“She’s going to kill me,” Steve finally said, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck. She’s going to break up with me for good.” He began rambling, his internal monologue spilling from his mouth without filter. “And what about my love life? No girl is going to want to go out with me with a kid on the way. No girl is going to want to go out with a dad at our age. And my parents? Jesus, what a fucking disaster-“

“Steve,” you said, cutting off his frantic rambling. “Calm down.”

He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. You’d never seen him so worked up. “Yeah. Okay.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?” you said, wondering how you ended up being the one comforting him. “We have time. There is a rush, but we have like 6 months. We…look, Steve, we’re gonna be okay, I think.”

He sniffled, and you wondered if he’d started crying. “Have you told your parents?”

Silence. “No.”

Steve nodded again. He ran both his hands through his hair this time, a nervous laugh spilling unprompted from his lips. “Oh, fuck. We are fucked.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class you were now officially late for. You subconsciously rubbed a hand over your belly, adjusting your sweatshirt and high waisted leggings back to cover it as well as you could. Steve watched you, his eyes locked on the bump the entire time.

“Can I…feel it?”

The question caught you so off guard, you thought you might have imagined it. “What?”

“The…your stomach?” He felt so awkward. “Can I touch it?”

You blinked at him. The question was so out of nowhere, the last thing you expected him to say. “Oh…sure?”

You lifted your sweatshirt again and pushed down the waist of your leggings, exposing the skin again. Steve walked towards you hesitantly, extending his hand. Finally he reached you and placed his hand on your stomach.

His hand was so big, the entirety of the bump fit beneath his palm. It felt weird to have him (or anyone) touching you like this. Steve had a look of awe on his face, his thumb caressing the firm skin. It was a tender moment, one you didn’t expect.

“It’s really real, huh?” Steve said quietly, almost to himself. “There’s really a baby in there? …My baby?”

You smiled gently. “Yeah. There is.”

Steve stayed there for a minute longer, just feeling. When he finally pulled away he didn’t say anything, just lowered his hand and watched as you readjusted your clothes. Just watching you.

“I guess we better get back to class,” you said. “We’re late.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Steve laughed humorlessly again. “But I don’t think it matters much anymore. College is out the window.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. That made you feel sick, the idea of throwing away all the hard work you’d put in throughout your years in high school. Watching Nancy and Barb go on to Emerson without you. Not that they’d want you to come with them, anyway. They were going to hate you soon enough.

God, Nancy and Barb. How were you supposed to tell them? Hey, Nancy, I have some news - I’m having your boyfriend’s baby. You felt the panic rising in your own chest now, for about the millionth time since you’d found out. Steve stepped forward, a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, “it’s okay. Calm down, it’s…it’s not good for the baby. We’re gonna figure this out.”

His words surprised you, the way the tables had turned. He took deep breaths with you as you calmed yourself. “I just don’t know what we’re gonna do. I don’t even know where to go next. I’m-“

Steve said your name, grounding you to the moment. He pushed your hair behind your ear, eyes roaming over your face. He wondered if you had been this beautiful all along, or if you being pregnant with his child made you even more luminous.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. Both of you. Okay?”

You just nodded, stray tears escaping down your cheeks. “Okay.”

You had to trust him.

—

It was gym class that fucked you over in the end.

You had managed to get out of class since you’d started showing, with excuses about your period and headaches and stomach aches. But eventually your gym teacher got tired of it.

“You’re changing into your uniform and you’re running with us today,” she said. “No excuses.”

So you changed in the bathroom stall, which was already strange enough. You waited until the rest of the girls had left the locker room, including Nancy and Barb, before you walked out and stood in front of the mirror.

Oh, god.

It was worse than you thought. The bump was clear as day below your shirt, perfectly round beneath the soft thin material. You looked at your reflection in horror, smoothing your hand over it, wondering if there was anything you could do to hide this. But when your gym teacher yelled through the door for you to hurry up, you realized you were out of time.

It was coming out. Now.

You walked out of the locker room with your arms crossed over your stomach. You had never felt more exposed in your life. The girls were all sitting on the basketball court stretching, laughing and giggling with each other. You approached Nancy and Barb and slid to the ground next to them.

“Are you cold?” Nancy asked, immediately giving you a strange look. “Because I have a sweatshirt in my locker you can-“

You were about to take her up on that kind offer when the teacher blew her whistle, calling everyone to line up. You joined the rest of the class, and she gave you a look. She called your name - “Arms down. What are you doing?”

You felt like you were on stage with a spotlight directly on you. Every girl in your class was looking at you, wondering what the hell you were doing. You had no choice. You lowered your arms, and there was a collective gasp.

“Holy…shit…” Tina said, not even attempting to hide her laughter.

Nancy said your name softly, and you turned to face her and Barb. “What…” Nancy said, looking at you wide eyed and shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “What did you do?”

It was fight or flight, and your brain decided for you. You turned and sprinted back into the locker room, tears falling immediately. You were sobbing by the time the locker room door slammed shut behind you, but it opened again seconds later.

Nancy called your name again as she and Barb hurried to your side, wrapping their arms around you. You wanted to push them away. You didn’t deserve their comfort.

“How did this…” Nancy began, but she was at a loss for words. “Who…when did you…”

“I’m 14 weeks,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “It was…Halloween.”

Nancy gasped. Her and Barb exchanged a look. “Why didn’t you tell us? Who was it? Does he know?”

Your hands were clenched into tight fists. “Yeah, he knows.”

“Who’s the father?” Barb asked again, since you hadn’t answered Nancy either time she had said it.

What could you do? It was time for the truth to come out, ready or not.

“It’s…” you drew in a gasping breath, choking on your own sobs. “It’s Steve’s.”

The room went silent besides the sound of your crying. No one moved. No one dared to move. It was like the calm before the storm, the peace moments before the tornado rips the roof off the house.

“Steve?” Nancy said finally, looking at you like you were dumb and had said something completely outlandish. “Steve…Harrington? My Steve?”

Her Steve.

“Yes,” was all you could say, your voice barely a whisper. “It was…Nancy, I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was at Tina’s stupid party, after you and Steve had that fight, we were talking and- just- one thing led to another, and-“

Nancy held her hand up, stopping you. Barb just looked between the two of you, her expression one of absolute shock. Nancy’s normally calm face had been replaced by a mask of pure fury, rage and disappointment and hurt. Betrayal.

“You…you slut!” Nancy spat, and she might as well have slapped you in the face. You recoiled, jerking back as if she had truly struck you.

“Nancy, I-“

“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say,” she said, standing to her feet. Barb looked between the two of you before she stood, too. Her side chosen.

“I can’t believe you,” Nancy said. “You were really that jealous? You couldn’t stand the thought of me having a boyfriend - of me being with King Steve Harrington - so you had to jump in the middle, huh? Take him for yourself?”

“Nance, that is not it, we were both so drunk-“

“But you knew it happened,” she said. “You knew it happened, and you both made a fool of me. Pretending like you hadn’t…fucked each other, like everything was fine between us, like you weren’t keeping the hugest secret in the world.” She shook her head. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

She turned them, leaving the locker room and going back to class with Barb following behind her. You stayed there on the floor, alone. You pulled your knees to your chest as close as you could and sobbed, burying your face in your arms.

You cried, and cried, and cried. But you had no right to feel like this. No right to be hurt. You were the one who fucked up. You really betrayed your best friend.

You were the scum of the earth.

Lunch was right after gym, and you didn’t know what to expect. You knew you weren’t going to be happily sitting at your table with Nancy, Barb, and Steve. But on your way to the cafeteria, in the deserted hall, you caught Nancy talking to Steve.

“Do you have something to say to me?” she asked him, her face just as angry as the last time you’d seen her.

“What?” Steve asked with an awkward chuckle. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about-“

“Don’t call me babe,” she snapped, making his eyes go wide. “There’s nothing you think you should tell me?”

He noticed you then, standing off to the side. His wide eyes landed on you, then dropped down to your stomach. He looked back at Nancy. “Oh, fuck, Nance, listen-“

“No, you listen, Steve Harrington.” Nancy pointed a finger in his face, her own twisted in pure fury. “No one treats me like a fool. You think you can go around, fucking whoever you want, being as reckless as you want, then come to me with flowers and lies and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t fuck my best friend?” Her voice broke at the end of her sentence, and your heart felt crushed in your chest. You realized the gravity of your fuck up - the cherished lifelong friendship you’d lost.

“Nance-“

“Don’t.” She looked up, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse you have for me, I don’t care. I don’t care that you were drunk. What you did is beyond forgiveness.” She turned and met your eyes again. “For both of you.” When she looked back at Steve, there was resolve in her eyes. “We’re over.”

Steve watched, dumbfounded, as Nancy turned and stomped towards the cafeteria. He felt helpless as he watched her go - the potential love of his life, at least that’s how it felt - over one, stupid, massive mistake. He turned around and punched the locker with a loud “Fuck!”, leaving a large dent in the grey metal.

You approached him cautiously, not sure what you should do, if anything. He turned to you with tears welling in his brown eyes. He looked devastated. You felt guilty about that, too.

“Steve, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not now.”

You watched helplessly as Steve stormed off, leaving you alone in the hallway. You really were alone. Completely.

—

You had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that your life was over. No friends, no boyfriend, the father of the baby possibly not involved. You didn’t know if you could trust Steve to stick around like he said, especially with the way he had left you earlier.

After school, you had to call your mom to come pick you up. You made up a lie about Nancy having a doctor’s appointment, and your mom told you she’d be there after work.

With time to kill, you ended up in one of the study pods again. You flipped through your physics textbook, no homework to be done. You had nearly fallen asleep when the sound of someone walking in startled you.

You looked up to see Steve, giving you a sheepish look as he settled into the small space. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey?” you said back, cautious of whatever he had come to say. With the way things were going for you, it couldn’t possibly be good.

“I just…” he sighed. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, about earlier. I shouldn’t have stormed off and left you like that.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry about…Nancy.”

“It’s not your fault. Well, not any more your fault than it is mine.” He huffed a short laugh. “We both knew this was coming, though, didn’t we?”

You supposed you did. It didn’t make it any easier.

“She was my best friend since kindergarten,” is all you could offer. Then, like a dam breaking, you burst into tears. You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, wishing you could undo everything.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said gently, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into a tight hug, his large hand rubbing your back soothingly. It helped, surprisingly. You knew you were soaking his polo shirt. “You’re okay. Breathe for me, alright? You’re okay.”

You tried to breathe slowly, following the slow up and down of Steve’s chest. Eventually you were breathing with him again, slow and steady. “Good,” Steve said, and even the rumble of his voice through his chest was soothing. “Can’t have my baby mama freaking out on me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Steve was good at getting you to smile when it felt like you never would again, that was for sure. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back slightly to look at you. His face was etched with worry as he took in your puffy bloodshot eyes. “I mean it, you know. It is going to be okay.”

“What about Nancy?” you asked, lip wobbling as you thought of your former best friend again.

“Nancy…” Steve sighed. “I hope she’ll come around. You know, things won’t be the same, but…”

But she might not hate your guts, you finished the thought in your own head.

“You’re not upset that she just broke up with you?” you asked.

“Of course I am,” he said, letting out a sigh. “But you’re my main concern.”

“Me?” You were taken aback. “Why me?”

Steve let out a disbelieving laugh. “Really?” He placed a hand on the bump, an affectionate gesture. “That’s my little nugget in there.”

Something about the way he said it sent heat to your cheeks. It was the most affection you’d received from him since you told him. And it was…nice. You hadn’t had anyone to be excited about this with you, to talk about the future and baby names and whether it would be a boy or a girl. You wouldn’t have any friends jumping to throw you a baby shower or anything, but maybe Steve could be that support for you.

“Yeah,” you said simply. “It is.”

Steve smiled softly at you. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to either of you. I hope you know that. You have my word, and I don’t go back on my word. I was a boy scout.” He held up a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

You laughed. It was incredible to be feeling lighter than you had in months. Steve had that effect on you, somehow.

“I may not know how to be a dad,” he said, “but I guarantee I’m going to be the best one.”

—

Steve kept his word. He stuck by your side. It didn’t take long for the news to spread around the entire school - not just that you were pregnant, but that it was Steve’s, and that he and Nancy had broken up.

Nancy was still furious. You hated that you had dragged her into this with you, that the whole school was laughing at her for being so clueless. It wasn’t her fault and she didn’t deserve that.

Steve didn’t let anyone say anything to you. The first time Tommy tried to give you shit, Steve punched him in the face. Somehow, they were still friends.

Steve walked you to every class, carrying your books for you and not letting you lift a finger. You sat with him at lunch, ignoring the dirty looks from Carol. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to be friends with her. That was okay with you.

He started picking you up for school and bringing you home. Usually your parents weren’t home in time to see him, but on this particular day, 16 weeks into the pregnancy, they were.

“Maybe you should come inside,” you said, looking at Steve with your brows furrowed, worry etched in the lines formed on your face. “Meet my parents. Maybe…maybe we should tell them.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Look, parents usually love me, but I’ve never had to tell some I got their daughter pregnant.”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah, well…I figure we have to.”

You climbed out of the car, pulling your sweatshirt back on. Steve followed, placing a hand on your back as you both walked up the sidewalk to the front door. When you entered the house, the smell of pasta greeted you instantly. Your mom was in the kitchen and your dad was sitting in his recliner, watching TV.

“Hi, honey,” your mom greeted you without looking up as you walked in. When she finally did look up, she let out a little “Oh!”! at the sight of Steve. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we’d be having company tonight.”

Your dad looked over, suddenly interested. He eyed Steve, like he was thinking or he knew him from somewhere. “Mom, Dad, this is Steve,” you said, hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt. You could feel the bump beneath your hands,

“Hi. Steve Harrington,” he said in his usual charming way, moving to shake your mom’s hand first and then your dad’s.

“Harrington?” your dad asked, eyebrows raised. “Are you related to Richard Harrington?”

“That’s my dad,” Steve said, his cheeks turning red. You wondered what Steve’s relationship with his dad was like.

“I work for your dad,” he said. “Have since before you were born.”

“Oh,” Steve said awkwardly. You cringed - that was going to make this whole situation even more uncomfortable.

“So what’s the occasion?” your mom asked with a smile as she put the lid back on the pot. You hated that you were about to ruin their good mood.

“Um…Mom, Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about.” You gestured between you and Steve. “Something we need to talk to you about.”

Your mom was instantly concerned, your dad suspicious. “What about?” she asked.

“You might want to sit down.”

That made their worry even worse. Your dad turned the TV off as you and Steve took a seat on the couch, your mom coming in to sit on her chair. “Okay…” she said, “should I be scared?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. Your dad reached over and grabbed her hand. You looked at Steve, who gave you a soft reassuring smile before grabbing your hand. He squeezed it, and you squeezed his back. You took a deep breath and looked back at your parents. The guilt ate at you. “I’m pregnant.”

There was only silence. Your mom covered her mouth with her free hand, tears coming to her eyes. Your dad looked dumbfounded, neither of them knowing what to say.

“And…Steve is the father?” your dad finally asked.

“Um…yes, sir,” Steve said, blushing furiously. Because wasn’t announcing a pregnancy basically telling people ‘hey, we had sex!’? There was only one way we got here.

“Oh, jesus,” your mom said.

“Are you intending to marry her?” your dad asked.

It went silent again.

“S-sorry?” Steve stuttered, his eyes wide.

Your dad looked angry now. “Are you planning to marry my daughter? Make an honest woman out of her?”

“I…I-“

You knew your dad was traditional, but you didn’t expect him to demand you get married. You were only 18. You and Steve weren’t even together.

“Dad, come on,” you said, pleaded. “Don’t do this. It’s humiliating.”

Your dad said your name sternly. “You don’t understand how serious of a situation this is, clearly. Your reputation is going to be drug through the mud. Both of you.” Your dad looked between you. Steve felt as if he was being scolded by his own father - no, that would be worse. “You need to get married. Be together for this child. I know the Harringtons can take care of you.”

“Dad!”

“Look, we’ll revisit this,” your mom said, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s important right now is this baby. Do you have a doctor? Have you been going to appointments? Taking prenatals?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” you said.

“No, I’m not done-“ your dad interrupted, but your mom cut him off.

“No more. You’re stressing her out. It’s bad for the baby.”

“Stressing her out?!”

“Steve,” your mom said, ignoring your dad entirely. Steve was grateful for the interruption. “Are you planning to stick around? Be a dad?”

“Of course,” he said instantly. No hesitation whatsoever.

Your mom smiled. “Good. That’s what matters. We can talk about marriage later.”

Steve paled again.

“This is ridiculous,” your dad said. He stood, walking over to the phone on the wall. He angrily dialed a number, then pressed the phone to his ear.

“Dad…?” you said, dreading whatever he was about to do. “Who are you calling?”

He ignored you. Then, finally- “Mr. Harrington!” he greeted the man on the other line.

Steve looked as if he might pass out. You gripped his hand tighter. “Dad, don’t do this. Please don’t do it like this.”

“Mr. Harrington,” he said into the phone. “Did you know your son is at my house? With my daughter?” A pause. “Yes. Well, apparently, we’re going to be in laws.”

You closed your eyes, the embarrassment and dread physically painful. Steve was nervously bouncing his leg so hard the whole couch was shaking. Your mom stood up, trying to talk some sense into your father, but the damage had already been done.

Your dad held the phone out towards Steve. “He wants to talk to you, son.”

Steve walked over to take the phone like he was walking to his own execution. His hand was shaking as he took it from your father’s hand, then held it to his ear. “…Dad?” He held the phone away from his ear as you could hear the man screaming from where you sat across the room.

“Dad, listen…I-yes, I did, but it-…yeah, I was seeing Nancy. It’s a long story. I-…she’s not a-…okay. Yeah. Okay. See you at home. Yeah. Bye.”

Steve hung up the phone, looking completely dejected. This had gone way worse than you expected. Steve was horrified. You felt guilty once again, that you were putting Steve through this and that you had let your parents down. They didn’t even know about the whole Nancy’s boyfriend thing yet.

“I gotta go,” Steve said to you, looking apologetic and sad. He put his hand on your upper arm, thumb caressing it over the material of your sweatshirt. Then, surprising you, he put his hand on your belly. He smiled down at it affectionately. “Bye, lil’ nugget.” He looked at you again. “See you tomorrow.”

Even with Steve gone, the tension in the room was still high. Your mom was looking at you like she couldn’t believe her baby girl was doing things like having sex and getting pregnant. Your dad looked at you like you’d disappointed him greatly. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up for dinner,” your mom finally said, forcing a kind smile onto her face.

“Okay,” you said. You were grateful for the excuse to get out of this room. You hurried up the steps, heading into your bathroom to pee for the millionth time that day and then take a shower. You stared at your body in the mirror when you got undressed - it was weird, the changes it was going through. You looked so different already, and it wasn’t even halfway through yet. Almost, though. That thought was terrifying.

After your shower you blow dried your hair, then walked into your bedroom wrapped in a towel. You collapsed back onto your bed. Your back hurt, your feet hurt, and you still weren’t even that big yet. God, how embarrassing will it be to go through graduation super pregnant? You hadn’t even thought of that. The whole school watching you knowing what you did. And Hawkins was small. This would follow you forever.

You dressed in a t-shirt and comfy pants, brushing your hair out and doing something with it. You didn’t have the energy to put in much effort. You didn’t even put on any makeup before you went downstairs, taking a seat at the table and putting a serving on your plate. It was still tense, like you’d interrupted a heated conversation. You didn’t want to put stress on your parents’ marriage, too. You had already caused so much collateral damage.

After dinner, you waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, just as you were starting to doze off, the phone next to your bed rang. You snatched it off the receiver so fast it barely had time to make a sound.

“Steve?” you said quickly, praying it was him and that he was alright.

“Hey,” he said, his familiar voice bringing you a weird sense of peace. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” You couldn’t believe Steve was worried about you first amidst all of this. “Are you okay?”

He sighed deeply. “Yeah. My dad is pissed. Both my parents are furious.”

“Oh,” you said. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. But, uh…they want to meet you.”

You froze. “They want to meet me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re having their grandchild.”

When he put it like that, it sounded so much bigger. You put a hand on your stomach, rubbing in circles around it. “Okay. We can do that.”

“It’s not just to yell at you, I promise,” he said with a slight chuckle. “They got that out of their system with me tonight I think. They just want to know you. They want to be involved with the baby.”

“Okay,” you said again. “Um…when?”

“Friday maybe?” he asked. “You can ride home with me after school.”

“Alright.” It was quiet again for a while. “I’m glad you’re okay, Steve. How are you feeling with the whole…Nancy stuff?”

He sighed. “It sucks. I’m not gonna lie to you. I miss her. I miss her, like, a lot. She won’t even look at me. It hurts.”

You felt terrible. “Steve, I’m so sorry. This is such a mess.”

“Yeah, it is.” You could almost hear a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “But it’s not all bad. I’m…kind of excited to be a dad.”

Your eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to be a dad.” A beat of silence. “It’s earlier than I wanted, sure, and I’m not even sure what we’re going to do, but I know that we’re having this baby and I’m going to love them and be the best dad. Better than my dad.”

His speech made you feel fuzzy inside, your heart beating hard in your chest. You hadn’t thought about the good parts yet. You’d been too stressed with Nancy, Barb, your parents, Steve’s parents, college…maybe being a mom wouldn’t be so bad.

“You gonna coach little league?” you asked, smiling. You felt giddy, like a teenage girl kicking her feet and talking to her crush. Only, you didn’t have feelings for Steve like that.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “I am! I’m looking forward to it. I played baseball, basketball, I was the captain of the swim team…”

“Wow. I knew you were a jock, but I didn’t know you played so many sports.”

“Good at them, too.” The pride was evident in his voice.

“Are we gonna have a little sports prodigy?”

“God, I hope so.”

You laughed. Steve made you feel a way you truly didn’t understand. It was like butterflies in your stomach, goosebumps on your skin. You remembered what it felt like to kiss him, to-

“What if they’re more like me?” you asked. “Will you be disappointed?”

“Like you?” he said. “What, smart as hell? No, of course I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d be so proud to have a genius kid.”

“Genius?” you laughed. “I am not a genius.”

“You’re super smart.” A pause. “Our baby would be lucky to be like you.”

Your heart beat harder. “Steve-“

“Oh, shit. I gotta go. My parents grounded me and put me on a curfew.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” When you heard the click of him hanging up the phone, you felt disappointed. Like you missed him immediately. Your fingers itched to call him back.

You made yourself turn off the lights and get into bed instead. Your head was plagued with thoughts of Steve. You couldn’t think of anything else. You had visions of him holding a newborn baby, playing with a rambunctious toddler, playing baseball with a kid, smiling with a teenager. You had a whole life ahead of you with Steve. You, Steve, and your baby.

You wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. You didn’t know if you had a preference one way or the other. As cliche as it was, you just wanted a healthy baby. You felt like you needed to grow up fast now. It wasn’t just you you had to worry about, you had to think of this baby all the time now, first.

You thought you liked being pregnant. It felt nice to carry the baby with you, to be so impossibly close to them, having them inside where they’re safe. Despite the morning sickness (which had thankfully come to an end), you would maybe miss being pregnant after having the baby.

You drifted off eventually to those thoughts- feeling content.

sorry i forgot the taglist!!

@crispystarfishhottub @luveediary @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @melaninjhs

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melwsnt · 3 days ago

Text

TOUCH ; SPENCER REID

just a small one about physical touch between you and Spencer 🤭 pls send some requests if you have any!

word count. 522

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Spencer likes to touch you. It doesn’t have to be sexual- whether it’s a hand on your shoulder, on the small of your back, holding your hand. Holding you- touching you makes up for all the times he felt alone and just wanted someone by his side, before you showed up unannounced.

It makes him feel safe. When on a case together, he’ll never not sit next to you on the jet, he’ll always pray to get assigned with you so you can either sit in the car together and he can tell you weird fun facts like he does so well, or sit in the conference room and stare at you, trying to solve the enigma of how you even fell for him in the first place.

On your side, Spencer is like a drug. His touch, his laugh, his voice, his lips, the way he serenades you with stupid information that you normally wouldn’t care about, but you do, because he’s the one telling you all about them. He’s the one holding your hand when you need it the most- which seems to be every single second spent together. He’s the one who holds you and lets you cry when it gets hard and doesn’t ask a single question.

Most importantly he’s the one you see yourself spend the rest of your life with. You see, maybe a couple of nerdy kids running around. Or not- it could be just the two of you for the rest of eternity and you’d be okay with it- so would he. Because it’s always been you and him, together, against the world.

Looking at him is rewarding. Knowing that he feels the same. That he needs you, your touch, your insanity, and your sassiness. He needs to hear about your day even though you had the same and you were together all along. He needs to know how you feel about anything and everything he does or say. He needs your validation. He needs to know you’re okay. Even when you’re around.

Spencer needs you. He longs for you, just as much as you long for him. Everyone sees it. It’s not always sexual tension in the air, sometimes all everyone around sees, is pure love and magic. They see it, they feel it, they might even be jealous of it.

The side of your thigh touching his when you sit next to one another, his hair brushing against your face when he kisses you, his hands all over your body, you even think there’s not a single inch of your body that hasn’t been touched by him. It’s heavenly.

Touching Spencer is your favorite moment of the day, and when he touches you- well it’s wonderful. It makes your stomach turn, in a good way. Butterflies dance, and your brain is in shambles.

When Spencer touches you, he sees a lifetime of it. A lifetime by your side, kissing you, holding you, making you laugh, and most importantly loving you.

That’s just Spencer. He doesn’t only touch you physically, he also touches your soul. You’re entirety his. And you’re okay with that.

#imagine #fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #fem oc

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slu7formen · 3 days ago

Note

reader whos got a thing for luke’s hands. she can never stop staring at them. sucks on his fingers whenever she gets the chance. loves to feel him grip her cheeks

luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: finger sucking, chocking

₊˚⊹♡

You needed to say things you couldn't say out loud. Filthy and naughty things.

Your eyes were fixated on the way he played with his ring, sitting so casually leaned over his knees as he spoke to a friend. His green veins popping out of his hands, following a delicious path to his forearms, disappearing into his biceps. His knuckles were bony, a little crooked, like he's been cracking them all his life, prominent even with the thickness of his slender and long fingers.

Callouses decorated the rough skin of his palms, a sign of hard training and his usual rawness to it. A few white scars and marks scattered around the tanned skin of his wrist. He mentioned something about a cut when you asked about it.

You couldn't stop, you were obsessed. You were obsessed with Luke Castellan's hands.

You were always distracted because of them, especially during these campfire nights, the moment in which you saw Luke the most. He always sat close to you, something besides you, and you tried to look into his eyes. You really fucking tried. But then you saw him moving, his hands playing with the rings, the way his fingers tapped the grass, how his veins moved and you were gone.

You were fucking gone, and it was so embarrassing.

Luke noticed you, of course he did. You were always looking at him, your eyes glued to his figure and you were so easy to read. Your blush, the way you were leaning towards him, your gaze, how you would sometimes bite the inside of your cheek when he caught you staring. He loved every second of it.

You didn't even know when it started, or why. Maybe it was the way they looked, maybe the way he moved them, maybe his knuckles, maybe the scars. How manly they were. Gods-, did you love something manly. It could have been anything, but it was just the fact that it was his hands. For some reason you had a thing for it, and it sounded so good. A thing. Something tickled in your brain every time you thought about it; having a thing for something is fun. It's thrilling, it's sexy.

A thing for someone's hands. It made you want to laugh.

"You have beautiful hands" you said once, the words coming out so easily, but you were shaking with anticipation. Your voice was weak, and Luke's hand, which was tapping his thigh, stopped.

"My hands?" His eyebrows rose a little, a small chuckle leaving his lips. He looked down at them, as if there were new limbs on his body.

You nodded. "Yes."

He laughed again, looking at you with an amused expression. "You like my hands." It was a statement. He wasn't asking, but the words still had a question in them. Your throat tightened, your eyes widening at the realization. He noticed. "Why?"

You were frozen. What could you say? I think you have the hottest hands I have ever seen? I think about them touching me all the time? No, it was too embarrassing to say. Yet.

"I don't know, they´re just...nice." You shrugged, trying to make your tone as casual as possible. You didn't want him to think you were obsessed.

But the thing is, you were obsessed. You were so fucking obsessed.

Luke laughed again, shaking his head a little. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

It was silent after that. He kept looking at his hands, playing with them and watching you out of the corner of his eye. Maybe you liked them because he knew you liked them. Or maybe it was the fact that you felt them even through your skin when he was on top of you, his body caging you against the mattress, hands spreading as he gripped your torso. They were warm against your skin, and you wanted more.

You wanted them everywhere.

You loved to feel his callouses on your cheeks when he held you, leaving a tickle behind and some goosebumps along the way. You just lost it when he held you, when he caressed his thumbs against your cheeks as his eyes pierced through you. When he held your face with just a hand, his fingers gripping tightly on the hot flesh of your cheeks, all you could fantasize about was him leading that same hand lower, pressing with the same affection over your neck, feeling your pulse in his palm.

They were big, and strong. And you couldn't help but imagine what they could do. What he could do. You knew he was skilled, he had to be, because you couldn't let yourself believe that all those stories about him stealing little pieces of "some things" and opening closed locks without getting caught were fake.

He was a master at this, and he had to be.

He chuckled above you. A cocky grin appeared on his face; he knew what you were thinking. His hands, his hands. You were so fucked. And he knew, and it made him feel smug. It made him feel proud. That you were this much into him.

"Let's see," he said suddenly, catching your attention. "Since you like them so much..."

He trailed off, his voice going deeper. A chill went up your spine as you stared into his eyes, the color of them being consumed by his blown pupils. His tongue licked his bottom lip, a sign of lust.

His knuckles brushed your right cheek, slowly, so slowly. It was soft and careful; a light caress and you couldn't help but close your eyes. It felt too good, too good. It was such a small thing, a little touch, yet it felt so intimate. But you wanted more. You wanted his hand to move, you wanted to feel the warmth of his skin, the roughness. You wanted his hand to be wrapped around your neck, choking you.

You shifted your head over the pillows, your shiny eyes doing all the hard work on avoiding looking at his hand, but maintaining your gaze on his. You slowly found your way to his fingers, swollen lips brushing against the thick skin of his thumb. You saw his jaw clench, holding himself back to stop whatever it is that you wanted to do.

When he pulls down on your bottom lip, it's enough for you to start. He lets you do as you please, watching intently the way you wrap your mouth around two of his fingers. How you suck on them, your lips coated and using your tongue, letting him know exactly what you could do with him. Your tongue eagerly, but softly, taking your time as he does nothing but stay still, and stare.

That gloss you decided to wear was long smushed, yet some shiny little thing lingered on your bottom lip. It was a sinful image to Luke’s eyes, making him think about situations he couldn’t.

Yet.

He loves watching you do these things, knowing it's all for him, knowing that he makes you this hungry. He can't help but smirk, his cock twitching inside his jeans when your eyes close. The sight of you is so overwhelming, he can't control himself. He's just a guy, he has a limit, and you're crossing it. Just like you always did.

"You're making a mess, sweetheart."

He pushes them in slowly, carefully. You saw his lips part in excitation, his jaw tensing once again as he held his entire figure back, trying his best not to take you right there and then. Pressing them against your tongue, he drags them forward, the tip of his fingers nearly making you gag.

A deep and guttural sound leaves his throat, his voice hoarse, and it makes you feel the heat between your legs grow. Why the fuck would you care about some mess now? You're lost in your own head because of him, the way his hand feels, the way his fingers taste, his breathy chuckles, his heavy gaze, everything. This was his fault.

As much as you don't want to stop, you pull away slowly, a thin string of saliva breaking just a second after your lips left his digits.

"You like messy"

You didn't have time to react, he was quick to press it against your throat. You gasped at the sudden action, but not a second later you relaxed. You could feel the wetness on your skin, how the spit cooled under his touch, his hand wrapping tightly around the tender flesh of your neck. A groan escaped your lips, and the sound of it turned Luke on, a smirk spreading through his features.

"I do" he whispered.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fic #pjo x you #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #pjo x y/n #luke pjo #pjo smut #pjo luke #pjo series

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captain-hawks · 2 days ago

Text

suna rintarou x f!reader — 18+ only, 1.3k, piss kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, roommate!suna, perv!suna, based on this drabble

Rintarou wants to laugh at the irony of it—what’s currently staring back at him from your laptop screen.

He covers the bottom half of his face, hot breath curling against his palm as he lets out a ragged exhale of disbelief.

The thing is, he’s found plenty of things that have left his cock twitching eagerly with interest since he adopted this fucked up habit of perusing your incriminating porn tabs of choice whenever you forget to close out your silly little incognito browser window.

It’s like a game of roulette, the way his thumb hovers over the touchpad before clicking over to the next tab to see what else could have possibly contributed to draining your vibrator battery last night.

Spitting in her mouth!!!

Anal sex (no lube just SPIT)

I choked him and he came untouched??

If Rintarou was a good roommate and friend, he would have immediately closed the browser window full of filthy porn tabs the first time he went to borrow your laptop and found them staring back at him.

hot wet messy snowballing

Edging her till she’s begging for it (three orgasms)

Or at the very least, he wouldn’t have made a goddamn habit of it.

FIRST TIME SQUIRTER HUGE MESS!!!!!

But it's been fun, all of these little discoveries. The things he’s learned about you through clicks and keystrokes. Because Rin’s seen the guys you’ve brought home before—

—and he’ll bet his own goddamn balls that none of them has ever grabbed your face and made out with you after busting a hot load of cum in your pretty mouth.

Amateurs.

But this—

This.

This is…

Rintarou weakly rubs his fingers over his eyes, like it’ll somehow change the one and only tab that was waiting for him on your screen today.

And in the back of his mind, idly, he wonders if you closed out all the rest and forgot to dispose of this final piece of evidence.

Or if this video alone was enough to get you off that quickly—

(And it’s dangerous, that thought.)

He slowly closes your laptop.

—-

Rintarou’s calm, mature decision to turn over a new leaf and stop fucking his fist like a pervert to the knowledge of what gets you off lasts approximately four and a half minutes.

Four and a half minutes, and he’s in his room with his boxers discarded somewhere between the bed and the door, flushed, leaking cock gripped tightly in his fist.

Two strokes and his balls are already seizing up.

Suna Rintarou’s dick is twitching between his fingers on a hair trigger—

and you—

you—

—you have a piss kink.

His mind is already far beyond the memory of the two faceless participants in the video you’d been watching. Miles and miles past SHE PISSED ON MY DICK (huge cumshot!!).

Rin doesn’t give a single fuck about whatever else he missed out on in the remaining five minutes of the video that he promptly closed out of.

Because all he can think about is you.

You and those flowy sundresses you like to wear as soon as a hint of warm weather hits the forecast.

You and those lacy little white panties that you sometimes forget in the corner on the bathroom floor after showering.

You and your abysmally small bladder.

Rintarou’s mind is caught in a hazy fantasy, one that finds two of you making out in his bed. You’re wearing that yellow dress that he really likes, and the thin material slips up your thighs like butter when he grasps your waist and pulls you on top of him.

Your lips slide against his, soft moans slipping up your throat as you straddle him, his sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to obscure the sheer amount of blood that’s rushed to his cock in the time since the two of you hit the mattress.

And then you giggle, murmuring something shyly against his lips about how wait, wait, you have to pee.

Logically, because you live together and you share a bathroom and Rin knows you, he should offer you a slightly dramatic, put-out sigh, hands resting behind his head as he waits for you to return.

But Rin’s so goddamn hard and your cunt feels so warm grinding against him, even through your underwear. And he honestly doesn’t really care about these sheets or this mattress.

Rintarou doesn’t give a fuck about much of anything besides the thought of how it wouldn’t just be warm, but hot if you—

“Just go.”

You laugh, gentle and amused. Like he’s joking.

Like he didn’t just ask you to piss on him.

“Rin—”

He pushes up the skirt of your dress, exposing those white panties and the obvious wet spot of arousal that’s already soaked through the material that hugs your swollen folds.

You blink down at him, breath hitching in your throat.

“Rin, I really have to—”

He brushes a finger down your slit, featherlight, not missing the full-body shiver that courses through you.

You whine.

Hooking a finger in your panties, he tugs them aside to expose your cunt.

“You have to what?” he asks calmly, pressing his thumb into the puffy, throbbing button of your clit.

You exhale silently, eyes falling shut for a moment like it’s taking everything in your power to keep holding it in.

“I have to pee.”

Rintarou uses his free hand to push down his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. He stares up at you.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes go a little wide, bottom lip getting caught between the trap of your teeth as your thighs tremble slightly.

“I can’t—”

Rin traces your fluttering entrance with the pad of his middle finger, and your hips stutter as you bite back a moan.

“Why not?”

He slides a finger in, and fuck, fuck, fuck you’re so wet for him.

Your pussy clenches around the digit.

“We’re in your bed. It’ll…it’ll make a mess…”

Rin smiles, because this is just some fucked up fantasy he conjured, and he can buy a hundred goddamn beds for you to piss all over if he wants to.

“And?”

Two fingers.

“Rin I’m—”

A warm trickle slides down his knuckles. He slowly pumps in and out of your pussy.

“Do it.”

More drips out.

He pulls his fingers out of you and rests his palm flat over your bladder.

“Oh—”

Rin pushes down at the same moment that he slides his hard cock lengthwise down your wet slit.

And all at once, you release.

Hot piss floods out of you, spraying all over his cock.

And Rintarou groans, gasping at the sensation, at the feeling of it coating his cock and dripping down his balls.

You’re still pissing when you start grinding your cunt against his dick again, desperately, frantically, whining like you’re about to—

You come hard, shaking and sobbing his name against his chest, and Rin’s already halfway to stroking his piss soaked cock to his own completion when you gasp, “Fuck me, Rin. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

It’s obscene how wet you are, how easily he pumps his cock right into your dripping hole. Rin flips you over onto your back, fucking into your pussy with uneven, shallow strokes because it’s all he can manage before blowing his load.

And because Rin’s a filthy pervert—

“That’s all?” you weakly laugh into his shoulder as he collapses against you afterward, softening cock still nestled in your cunt.

Rin mouths at your collarbone.

“Just say it if you want it.”

You sigh.

“Rin.”

Hand drifting to the base of his cock, he rubs his fingers against the place where it meets your fucked out folds.

He lets out the slightest dribble, just enough to have you gasp with awareness.

“Rin please.”

He shifts, mouth slotting against your lips, tongue lazily sliding into your mouth as a hot flood of piss floods your cunt.

(You’re a filthy, wet, needy mess of cum and piss when he’s finished finger fucking you over the edge of another orgasm.)

–

Rintarou wakes up to the sound of the heavy front door to the apartment closing, your shoes clicking across the laminate flooring down the entryway.

His hands are sticky with dried cum, sweatpants damp and soaked through with more than just his seed as they cling to his thighs.

He's already hard again.

"Fuck."

#suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou #dee writes #cw.piss

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michanvalentine · 2 days ago

Text

I don’t remember where, but I think it was right here on Tumblr that I read about a sort of challenge a while ago—to say why we like Spawn Astarion.

Well, since I think it’s a really nice thing to do…

Here are all the reasons why I love Spawn Astarion.

He’s an elf. I’ve always had a weakness for those elegant, slender, and ethereal creatures (no, not you, Halsin, lol). High elves, wood elves, wild elves, drow—love them all. And Astarion is a high elf with the most wonderful stuck-up attitude. I adore him.

He’s a beautiful man. Or at least, I think he is. I love his physicality. Sure, he’s got a great body, but what I especially adore is his angular face. Sharp ears, cheekbones, nose, jawline, chin. I love the elongated and captivating shape of his eyes, and those curls on his head. His hair is gorgeous, and even if he hates poetry (well, after having one carved into his back by Cazador, it’s understandable), I find it absolutely beautiful how his curls wrap around his ears! And also at the nape of his neck and on his forehead! xD

The way he moves and speaks. Of course, this is also thanks to the brilliant performance of Neil Newbon—props to him! I could watch Astarion for hours, talking about this or that, gesturing with those elegant hands and tilting his head from side to side. And when he puts his hands on his hips? Aww. And how can we not mention the expressiveness of his face, shifting incredibly between moments of vulnerability and defensiveness, especially in Act 1. In any case, he’s hugely entertaining, as well as just visually stunning to look at—he truly belongs on a stage, as Shadowheart would say (though maybe not the one with the noose, please!). And those abandoned puppy eyes? End of the world. I can’t resist him.

His sarcasm and dark humor. Lol. He kills me. Sometimes he’s inappropriate, idiotic, or downright an asshole—but apparently, I’m a terrible person because I laugh anyway. He’s such a fun companion, and he never fails to entertain me during the game, especially in his banter with the other party members, which is often hilarious.

His disapproval. Oh yes. I still remember my first playthrough— the more he disapproved, the more I wanted to understand why. And I felt personally attacked, thinking: “Look at this bastard, nothing ever pleases him.” But it added just the right amount of spice to my adventure and my relationship with him. It pushed me to ask questions, to want to engage with him, to understand his reasons and have him understand mine. Like a real person you disagree with. That dynamic always fascinated me—our differences.

Our arguments. I loved arguing with him, even when we saw things differently. I enjoyed playing along when we joked about how we’d prefer to die or which of our companions to feed on. It was fun. And it was even more engaging when things got serious—when we talked about Cazador and how cruel he was, or Astarion’s hunger for power, about bending others to his will, the heroes who never saved him, his willingness to deceive and doom his siblings… I loved every word, every clash, every sharp line, every time he made me grit my teeth. And I especially loved how it made me feel—the patience, the attention, the caution with which I picked every single reply, never backing down just to please him, contradicting him whenever I felt it necessary. And at the same time, the fear of losing him for good if I made the wrong move—because I had sensed how fragile he really was.

The surprise! Yes, when he proposed spending the night together despite all the times we had been on opposite sides. I didn’t expect it, and it made me curious. And sure, at that point in the story there’s a personal motive for Astarion—but we know that the offer only comes if he trusts Tav/Durge enough.

The contrast between the monster and the elf. I think this is one of the most beautiful aspects—his duality. The unbearable dichotomy he’s trapped in. Astarion suffers from being seen and treated as a monster. On one side, he leans into his vampiric nature—his thirst for blood and power (the latter driven by fear as well). But on the other, there’s this deep desire for redemption, for connection, to be understood and accepted, for real intimacy, to belong, to have a place in the world. And all those internal battles make him incredibly dear to me.

He’s morally complex. His view of the world—and the people in it—is very dark, especially early on. Personally, I’m not a fan of the spotless hero type—I usually find them flat and boring, especially when they’re not well written. The Gary Stu kind is just unbearable. Thankfully, that’s not the case with Larian’s characters—the writing is top-notch. But when you combine a well-written character with moral grayness, that’s my perfect character. Again, I love the contrast between good and evil, right and wrong. And Astarion is always walking that razor’s edge, constantly pulled between those two forces that often leave him conflicted. And to be honest, I also believe sometimes the ends do justify the means. Within limits, of course. xD

His backstory. I love characters with tragic, tormented pasts—especially when they manage to reach some form of a happy ending. And even more when they’re written as well as Astarion, with such deep themes and psychological complexity that make him feel incredibly real.

Projection. I won’t go into details, but I’ve been to dark places too, and I’ve had even darker thoughts. I’ve hurt people as well—even if I didn’t know or wasn’t able to do better at the time. I just didn’t have the tools. The positive note is that, like Astarion in the Spawn ending, I’ve managed to accept a whole series of unpleasant events, emotions, and feelings—and learned to live with them. Whether I like it or not, they’re mine, they make me who I am, and I keep them with me. And now I’m in a much better place—safe, loved, and seen for who I am, flaws, strengths, and all. And I love being able to offer my pixelated vampire boyfriend that same opportunity.

The breakdown after Cazador’s death. My God, that scene. That release. The moment where Astarion stabs and screams is already powerfully raw—you feel the rage, the tension, the bottled-up hatred. But then—he collapses to the ground and cries. Fuck. That moment is everything. A whirlwind of emotions so deep and intense I could almost feel them as my own. A cathartic release of everything he had held in for too long—pain, sorrow, grief, relief, hope. God, how I love that moment. And I wish I could hug him, wrap him up, comfort him—but it wouldn’t be right. Because that moment is his. He earned it. And he needs it. Anyone who has suffered that much deserves a moment like that—when it all comes out and slips away, leaving emptiness in its place, as terrifying as that may be.

“This is a gift. Thank you. I won’t forget it.” What can I say? This is a conversation that begins in Act 1, with the first act of trust Tav/Durge offers Astarion, and concludes at the end of his quest—in the good ending. Tav/Durge never saw him as a monster. They always trusted him. They knew he still had so much to give—he could be different. Better than Cazador. And the way I played it, constantly clashing with Astarion from the start over our differing worldviews—hearing those words wasn’t just satisfying. It was everything. Because just as I wanted to know him, understand him, and he became a part of me—he also knew me, understood me, and I became a part of him. And we met in the middle. That, fuck, is the perfect simulation of a healthy relationship between two people. And it’s beautiful. Just thinking about it makes my heart race.

“I feel safe with you. Seen.” It’s pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll say just a couple of things. These are powerful concepts. Especially when we’re talking about someone who has been through everything, and finally finds someone who makes him feel safe. Someone who won’t hurt him. That’s huge. And the concept of being seen? I think that’s the most fundamental desire every person on this planet has. And Astarion waited 200 years to feel that. It’s moving. And so deeply fulfilling to hear.

Spawn Astarion’s kisses. The sweetness. That soft side of him that comes out. The way he looks at Tav/Durge as he leans in—his face relaxed, his eyes shining, that smile on his lips. Love, in its most tender form.

Unique dialogues from Spawn Astarion. I’m referring in particular to the confrontation with the Gur after Cazador’s death, and to the moment when Durge wants to leave him out of fear of causing him harm. I find the way he handles these situations absolutely beautiful—it perfectly shows how much he’s grown, and how willing he is to open up to others, to consider their feelings. Even those he once saw as old, despised “enemies,” to whom he spares the pain of watching their children turned into ravenous vampire spawn. That line always moves me—I think it hits incredibly hard, especially given the context and his history with the Gur tribe. And then, of course, there’s the confrontation with Tav/Durge after the betrayal involving Mizora, which again shows how much he’s grown—even in terms of self-perception, understanding his limits, and asserting his right to say no. And what he says at the top of the Netherbrain, when Durge tries to claim it for Bhaal, perfectly reflects how his priorities have shifted since breaking free from Cazador’s mindset.

Self-acceptance. It's such an important, healthy concept. Astarion is perfect just the way he is. He has nothing to fear in that regard—he can simply exist and express himself. He doesn't need more power; vulnerability is okay, being fallible is okay, being full of flaws is okay. Being afraid is okay. You're still worthy of love. And the world isn't this terrible place where you have to crush others to survive—you can find your place among others, with others, and live with others. And it's beautiful to see how Spawn Astarion begins to internalize these ideas.

Facing his fears instead of indulging them. I’ve done the opposite for so long that I can honestly say—it’s usually a terrible idea. Because most of the time it means running away and giving something up. But Spawn Astarion doesn’t do that—he fights. He chooses the hard, uphill path of self-discovery and acceptance. With all the consequences that come with it—no matter how painful, like losing the sun or dealing with the gnawing hunger. It’s an act of immense strength and courage.

He takes responsibility and makes amends. That’s called redemption. And yes, he couldn’t refuse to obey Cazador’s orders—he had no choice—but when the ritual is within reach, the choice is entirely his. The lives of his former targets and his brothers and sisters are in his hands—an enormous burden on his shoulders. And in the moment he gives it up, he rights a wrong both suffered and inflicted. He saves himself and all the other vampire spawn, freeing them from Cazador’s influence and from the path the vampire lord had laid out for them.

He becomes an antihero. Yes, Astarion is better than Cazador. He’s become kinder, more open toward others, more willing to help, and more optimistic about life. But he hasn’t become a saint—he’s still a bloodsucker, and deep down he’s still the lovable rogue I fell in love with, always ready to say something inappropriate, foolish, or even cruel. And to take advantage of situations when he can. I adore him! But he’s still a charming scoundrel with a whole world of possibilities to explore, and plenty of room to grow—both in his relationships with others and in the one he has with himself.

There’s probably more, but I think I’ve written plenty already—and I’ve got a real life and a family breathing down my neck, lol. Let’s just say these are the main reasons why I love Spawn Astarion, why my relationship with him has become so precious to me, and why it’s so damn hard to romance any other companion in camp when that damned vampire is around. Lol.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #spawn astarion

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sturnsblogs · 19 hours ago

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PROVE IT.

BEFORE READING THIS BLURB IS BASED OFF OF THIS

—

Chris was obsessed with you. So, so in love. And he didn’t care that you two were toxic—violently in love, crashing into each other over and over like neither of you had learned your lesson. The fights were brutal. Screaming until your throats were raw, shoving, pushing, sometimes even throwing things. And then, always, the apologies that felt like religion, whispered between kisses and tangled limbs, his hands gripping you like he needed you to breathe. It was sick, it was unhealthy, but you couldn’t let each other go. You never would.

Because when it was good? It was perfect. The kind of perfect that made it impossible to walk away, no matter how much sense it might’ve made. The sex was insane, the kind that left you shaking and breathless, but it wasn’t just that. It was the way he touched you when no one was looking, the way he softened when you weren’t screaming, when you weren’t pushing and pulling. The way he owned you. And you owned him—completely.

And he made sure everyone knew it.

His Instagram might as well have been a fan page for you. Every picture, every story—just another way to remind the world that he was yours. And you were his.

“This woman is a goddess.”

“She’s so beautiful.”

“I’m so lucky.”

It was always things like that. Pictures of you in his hoodie, half-asleep in bed. A candid shot of you laughing, taken from across the room. Even a blurry photo of you walking ahead of him, captioned with, “Imagine waking up and not being with her. Couldn’t be me.” He didn’t care if people rolled their eyes. He meant every word.

And you? You pretended it didn’t affect you, but deep down, you loved it. You loved how obsessed he was. You loved knowing he couldn’t go a second without thinking about you.

Like right now.

You were curled up on your bed, highlighter in hand, textbooks scattered across your lap as you tried—really tried—to focus on the upcoming test you had. Your phone buzzed beside you, lighting up with a message from Baby 💕.

You clicked it without thinking, expecting something sweet, maybe a stupid meme.

“One image attachment.”

Your brows furrowed as you waited for it to load. And then—

Your eyes widened.

Chris had sent you a picture of himself, sprawled out on his bed, shirt pulled up just enough to expose the sharp lines of his tummy. His sweatpants were pushed low, his cock resting heavy against his stomach, thick and hard, the tip flushed red. But what really got you? The bold, dark letters of your name scrawled across the side of his length in black marker, the ink slightly smudged like he had been impatient, rubbing against his palm.

Your stomach twisted, something warm curling inside you.

“Christopher.”

You sent the text, shaking your head, trying so hard to act unaffected, but the heat rushing to your face betrayed you.

His reply came instantly.

“You own me, mama.”

Cocky. Smug. So self-assured. Because he knew. He knew you were flustered. Knew you were gripping your phone tighter than you should, pressing your thighs together without thinking.

Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You could just ignore him. You should ignore him. But where was the fun in that?

“Prove it.”

Not even a second later, your phone rang.

—

A/N- HAH I LOVE THIS.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @cass-sturn

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chewy425 · 2 days ago

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Marauders in pre-school. James is stuffing crayons up his nose. Sirius, coming from a house where as soon as kids are old enough to talk, they’re taught to only speak when spoken to. He’s nonverbal, sitting politely at his table for the first hour until James comes stumbling over with a crayon outstretched in his grubby little hand and then the rest of the day James and Sirius are maniacally laughing and running after a screaming Peter trying to stuff crayons up his nose like the both of them.

Lily is invested in the arts and crafts project they’re working on, making sure everyone in her vicinity is doing it the right way. No, Severus, you’re supposed to color the dragons first before you cut the paper. Here, you’re not holding the scissors right, let me do it for you. And he let’s Lily take over his project because he’s beyond thrilled to have undivided attention and guidance.

Mary is brushing Marlene’s hair and putting all these red clips in it, shaped like hearts and cherries and even finds a red ribbon from the craft table and attempts (poorly) to tie a bow into Marlene’s hair, all because Marlene had said she liked Mary’s pretty hair clips and Mary was sooo excited because she brought extra clips, and look Marlene, don’t you want to try them in your hair too? Red is my favorite color. Is it yours? I think red would look pretty on your hair too and Marlene is being brave, she’s not crying even though she usually cries when her mom brushes her hair but Mary promised to be gentle and told her it wouldn’t hurt at all and sometimes when Mary’s mom brushes her hair she tells silly stories about wizards and castles and I remember all about the stories can I tell them to you, Marlene? And Marlene is so busy listening to the stories she forgets to be nervous about the hairbrush.

Remus is crying silently in the corner, wiping his nose on his sleeve because he’s never encountered kids his own age coming from a small town and smaller family. He’s overwhelmed and can’t stand the screaming and the laughing and the coughing and the constant noise. And when Sirius sees him he pauses his pursuit of Peter, tugs on James’ sleeve and whispers in James’ ear. Because Sirius has seen a boy like him crying all by himself before, because Sirius Knows that Regulus will always cheer up if Sirius goes over to him and really, how different can it be cheering this boy up. So Sirius and James go over to Remus and Sirius crouches down and asks Remus if can run fast and Remus tells him he can’t run fast at all but there’s a big field behind his house and sometimes if his mom is cheering him on than he can beat his da in a race. James says that’s the kind of person who can help them catch Peter but Sirius is still crouching by Remus so Remus whispers to Sirius that he thinks his da lets him win and Sirius says that sometimes he lets his brother win games too but that’s only because he’s younger. And since Remus is the same age as them he must be just as fast as them and well, Remus can’t argue with Sirius on that, that makes perfect sense. So Remus ends up helping James and Sirius run around after Peter, but no James, I don’t think the crayons smell good I don’t want them up my nose and maybe Peter doesn’t think they smell good either and then James and Sirius are running even faster because, oh, they didn’t think about that and maybe they should say sorry to Peter but he keeps running and how can we say sorry if we can’t catch up to him?

And they all keep running until Peter runs right into their teacher McGonagall and she just looks at the boys behind him and they immediately stop and oh, it’s going to be a long year, go on, boys, go take your seats, crayons belong on paper not in your nose, it’s alright Peter, see, they want to be your friend, why don’t you go sit and color with them?

And by the end of the first day Lily has appointed herself assistant teacher and Severus, isn’t it so fun I’m a teacher now? And the four boys are talking about being best friends forever and they’re devastated when they have to say goodbye at the end of the day but Remus tells his parents he can’t wait to go back tomorrow to play with his new friends and they’re a bit shocked at this beaming boy who was all sniffles this morning when they dropped him off but they don’t let their surprise show to Remus, because see, didn’t we tell you that you’d have a great time?

Marlene goes home that day with a red ribbon all tangled in her hair and when Marlene gets dropped off the next day, McGonagall is expecting an earful from Marlene’s mother only for Mrs. McKinnon to ask McGonagall if she can thank the girl named Mary and Mary’s mother as well, because for the first time in Marlene’s life she didn’t burst into tears as Mrs. McKinnon worked on her hair to get that ribbon out. Although she would like to ask Mary if she would mind forgetting about ribbons and just use the hair clips next time, here, I bought some more clips for the both of you!

#marauders #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #severus snape #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon #regulus black #minerva mcgonagall

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reccyls · 2 days ago

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Victor's Main Route: Chapter 2

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Liam: Alright, I think this is everything.

Alfons: Good grief, what a tedious mission this turned out to be.

Kate: Good work, you two.

Liam: You too, Kate!

It was a few days after I started assisting Victor with his work. Right now, I was accompanying Liam and Alfons on a mission.

Liam: I wouldn’t have expected that there were drugs inside candy this pretty.

He stared intently at the jewel-like pink-colored candy he was pinching in his fingers.

Alfons: And I didn’t expect that we’d have to round up everything that had already been scattered here and there. Alfons: If I’d known it was going to be such a pain, I should have asked to join the others in destroying the factory.

Alfons let out a deep sigh.

It was said that eating this candy would make all your stress and anxiety disappear. Such rumors originating from Soho, the entertainment district, had reached the ear of the Queen. However, the candies were found to contain illegal drugs, and so Crown was dispatched to deal with this issue. Victor: The factory manufacturing these candies is owned by a nobleman who also has investments in a pharmaceutical company. Victor: In addition to lacing the candies with illegal drugs, the factory uses exploitative contracts to keep its employees in line. Jude: Tch. The sound of Jude clicking his tongue was loud and clear. Victor: Jude and Ellis, you two head for the factory. And Liam and Alfons, as well as Kate… Victor: I’d like you to collect all the candy that has already been distributed. Alfons: Oh? Kate will be joining us? Ellis: It’ll probably be safer than where Jude and I are going. Jude: Like anything would be more dangerous than going with that walking affront to public decency. Alfons: Flattery will get you nowhere, you know. Jude: Wasn’t flattery.

(When we were assigned that mission, I didn’t think we’d spend all night running around Soho to gather all the candy…)

I’d never even been to Soho at night, much less stepped foot in illicit and seedy stores before.

(This was all possible thanks to Alfons being so familiar with the area.)

Alfons seemed to have acquaintances everywhere. And with a helping hand from his ability, he was easily able to gather information about where the candies were being sold. Once we got that intel, Liam used his ability to infiltrate the location where the transaction would take place and then steal the candies. After a few rounds of this, we were able to collect enough candy to fill a sack to the brim.

(Alfons can make someone see an illusion if he touches the nape of their neck.) (And Liam’s ability is to turn invisible.)

We let out a sigh of relief once the job was done, however…

Liam: We’re pretty much done here, but I wonder how the others are doing…

Alfons: Jude’s probably bought out the entire factory and dealt with the owner by now. I bet he’s happily pocketed all the profits too.

Liam: Hahaha, that sounds like him.

I turned away from the candy to watch them, intrigued at how in sync they were.

Kate: You two get along well.

Alfons: Of course. We’re playmates, after all. Alfons: Liam and I come to Soho to have fun all the time.

Liam laughed awkwardly at those words.

Liam: That’s probably why Victor picked us for this mission.

Alfons: Sometimes that man is just so spot on when choosing who to send on which mission that it disturbs me.

Kate: How so?

With a deliberately theatrical sigh, Alfons spread his arms wide.

Alfons: Well we’ve certainly never told him where we go to play, and yet he still knows all about it, doesn’t he? Alfons: Why, one time, he knew the exact ramshackle, out-of-the-way pub that I’d been drinking at. Alfons: I’d never mentioned it to anyone. And I was hardly a regular, I’d only been there the once!

He wrapped his arms around himself and acted frightened.

Liam: You know, something like that happened to me too.

Kate: Has it?

Liam: I went out for a walk while everyone was asleep one night, and got back to the castle at dawn. Liam: And then that morning, Victor asked me, “Did you enjoy your walk?” Liam: I’m pretty sure no one was awake then, but he must have seen me.

Alfons: And what about you? Has something like that happened to you?

(Has there been anything?)

I tried to think back.

I don’t think he’s been observing me that closely.

Nothing comes to mind. (+4/+4)

Don’t tell me that time was–!!

Kate: Nothing comes to mind… Or maybe I just didn’t realize if it did happen?

Alfons: Alas, that is likely to be the case. Or perhaps he just hasn’t said anything to your face yet. Alfons: I suppose that it wouldn’t be difficult for Her Majesty’s aide to do some digging into our private lives. Alfons: I can’t say that I’m pleased at being so exposed, however.

Alfons picked up one of the candies and narrowed his eyes.

Alfons: Perhaps it’s not just limited to the things we’ve done while in Crown. Maybe he knows about things from my past that even I don’t. Alfons: I wouldn’t put it past him.

Liam: I didn’t really pay that much attention back then, but when I joined Crown he did a lot of research about me. Liam: I guess the only reason I’m here is because he did a whole background check on me. Liam: But it’s not like that’s a bad thing, right? It’d be bad for her Majesty if they just let any suspicious person join Crown.

Kate: You have a point.

As I mulled over their words, Liam’s expression suddenly brightened.

Liam: Oh by the way, Kate! I heard that you’ve been helping Victor with his work recently.

Kate: Yes, I am. But I’ve only been doing really simple things.

Liam: What kind of things?

Kate: Well…

I thought back over the last couple of days.

Victor: Kate, could you compile all of Crown’s reports next? Kate: Got it! … Kate: Okay, I’m done. And next? Victor: Thank you! Next, let’s take a break for tea time, shall we? And the next day– Victor: For today, I’d like your help in recording the expenses incurred during Crown’s missions. Kate: Sure, I’d be happy to… But is that all? Victor: That’s right. And let’s have a tea party after!

Kate: All I’ve been doing is having tea parties…

Victor did give me tasks related to Crown to help with. However, they were all simple, and there wasn’t much to do anyway. And we’d always have a break for tea time afterwards.

Alfons: Isn’t that just abusing his authority to have tea with a pretty young thing?

Kate: I don’t think that’s it.

Alfons grimaced as if he had just eaten something unpleasant, even sticking out his tongue.

Liam: Victor’s in his office an awful lot, isn’t he?

Liam blinked in surprise.

Kate: What about it?

Liam: Well, he’s the queen’s aide, right? I thought he’d be by Her Majesty’s side more. Liam: From what you’re saying, Victor basically never leaves his office.

Kate: That sounds right.

Every time I entered his office, Victor would already be seated at his desk. And he’d still be there even after I left.

Liam: See, it’s like we have no idea what Victor does normally outside of the office. Liam: He always shows up out of thin air and I’m not even sure if he sleeps.

(They’ve known him for longer than I have, and even they don’t know?) (It’d be natural for him to be very busy, since he’s Crown’s leader as well as the queen’s aide, but…)

Liam: Maybe he just wants to spend time with you.

As Liam spoke, a possibility floated to my mind.

(Maybe I’m not really helping him at all? Am I just being a nuisance?)

I thought that I was helping Victor. But was I forcing him to stay stuck in his office, when he had other things to do? Noticing my sudden uncertainty, a smirk crawled up Alfons’s face.

Alfons: Oh my, what’s gotten you so glum, Kate?

Kate: Do you think that maybe I’m actually just making more work for Victor, instead of helping him?

Liam: No way, you’re working really hard.

Kate: But he only ever gives me all this basic work that doesn’t take long to finish at all.

Alfons: I’m sure there’s all sorts of classified business going on that he can’t let you see. Nothing you can do about that, hm?

Kate: If not paperwork, I wouldn’t mind doing things like running errands or fetching things for him…

Alfons: Do you want to be his assistant or his dog?

Liam: I don’t think Victor would ask you to do unimportant things like that.

He clapped his hands as if to say, “Anyway!” and lifted the bag of candy.

Liam: Let’s head back since the mission is over.

-----

The next morning, I headed to Victor’s office as usual.

(I need to ask if I’m making more work for him.)

With a sense of resolve in my heart, I raised my hand to knock on the door. However…

???: –isn’t it?

Hearing a voice coming from beyond the door, I paused. Through a slight gap, I could see William standing inside.

William: And? How has our robin been as your assistant?

Victor: She’s very diligent and quick to complete her tasks. And she makes the whole room brighter whenever she’s here.

William: According to my sources, you’re only giving her trivial tasks and then spend the rest of the day having tea parties.

(Did Liam tell him?)

Victor laughed lightly.

Victor: I’ve been found out, it seems.

William: Shirking your work just to have tea parties. What a wicked man you are.

Victor: I only have the time because Kate helps me to finish my work faster. Victor: I’m hardly shirking, just making use of all that extra free time.

(So that’s how it is… I’m relieved I’m not being a bother.)

I was happy that I could help Victor free up some of his schedule. But…

(He doesn’t have to spend that time with me. He could use it on something else.)

It didn’t take a genius to tell that there was no shortage of things that Victor needed to do. I kept listening, hoping that I’d hear he didn’t mind spending his free time on having tea with me.

Victor: I could use the time spent on our tea parties to finish some other work, I suppose. Victor: But I enjoy our tea time together. Victor: Perhaps to Kate all these tasks are too simple. But I can’t entrust any work that deals with Crown to anyone else. Victor: Whether it’s sorting paperwork or reporting expenses, I’m grateful for everything she does.

William: Hence treating her to tea parties?

Victor: I certainly can’t deny that I want to spoil our hardworking robin silly, but these tea parties are partially for my sake, too. Victor: Our tea breaks are relaxing for me as well.

(So that’s what he thinks.)

I had thought that he was just humoring me by giving me trivial, pointless tasks to do. But he wasn’t just giving me busywork. The knowledge that I was actually being helpful made warmth bloom in my chest.

William: I see. Well, it is true that taking breaks is a necessity for living. William: Particularly for you.

With a knowing smile, William reached for the door handle.

William: Eavesdropping is a bad habit, you know. You’re becoming quite the villain yourself, aren’t you, Kate?

Kate: Uh-

I met William’s gaze as he pulled the door open.

Victor: There you are, Kate.

As Victor turned his warm smile towards me, guilt raced through me. I ducked my head.

Kate: I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!

William: For someone not meaning to eavesdrop, you were certainly standing there for quite some time.

Kate: …When did you realize I was there?

William: Since I asked about how your work was going.

Kate: So you knew the whole time!

I began to blush hard out of embarrassment and tried to hide my face behind my hands. The sound of both of them laughing filled the room.

Victor: Isn’t she adorable?

William: She is indeed. Adorable enough to make me want her for myself.

Victor: Absolutely not. Kate is my assistant.

I peeked at their smiling faces through my fingers. In contrast to William’s amusement, Victor’s expression was incredibly gentle. His smile was overflowing with warmth and tenderness.

Victor: It’s all right, I’m not angry. In fact, the thought of you standing there listening was very cute.

Kate: Please don’t say that, that just makes me more embarrassed…

Perhaps to Victor’s eyes, this was the same affection you’d pay to a child or a small animal. But regardless, hearing a grown man call me cute filled me with a sudden shyness.

Victor: It is a shame, but if it means that you won’t cover your face anymore, then I’ll stop saying it.

I slowly pried my hands off my face, and glanced up at Victor, who was looking straight at me.

Victor: Since you’ve overheard, you likely already know this. However… Victor: Because of everything you’re doing, I now have the free time to have tea parties. Victor: I’d be very happy if you continue to help me so we can keep having these breaks.

Kate: Of course. I’m always willing to help.

Satisfied with my response, Victor began gathering some papers with a wide smile.

Victor: So, Kate, what kind of sweets shall we have today?

I couldn’t help my grin as I took the papers from Victor.

Kate: I’d like scones topped with lots of cream!

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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a-mysterious-ghost · 2 days ago

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SFTH live show number 2! (And final one...as of now 😔). It was even better than the first, they were incredible!! Highlights of this one:

The entire Letter of Complaint was to Luke about snoring. From his girlfriend. Sam and AJ did an incredible job and Luke was laughing on the sidelines the entire time. Tom gave a standing ovation at the end. "This is too accurate" - Luke, sometime in the middle.

The flurry scenes had such good plots- honestly, could have watched them as long forms. Also, one was the exact opposite of the hobnob affair, in that Luke played a character who was the daughter of someone who was forcing her to make cookies. (Spoiler- she ended up the queen of England.)

Genre was incredible, and Tom took my suggestion again!!! Which was crazy two night in a row. Also, I totally lost all sense of speech when he looked at me for my suggestion so I accidentally said "landowner and renter" instead of "landlord and renter". So I did get made fun of by Tom twice in a row. Luckily, Sam came to my rescue with an "it's inclusive!". Anyway, Luke and Sam knocked it out of the park, and Tom ended the scene with 'Muppet hospital' genre, which was amazing.

The entire freeze tag was just...*chefs kiss*. AJ started out by staying in the exact same position for about 5 scenes, only ending when Sam physically picked him up (with no issue whatsoever). Halfway through, Tom got mad when Sam stopped him from making fun of Luke ("this model is almost like a man, but uglier-" "freeze! I think we've been mean enough to Luke today." "But I didn't get a go yet!").

They played Party Quirks!!! It was so fun...Tom went out to guess and he did an incredible job. At some point he was really proud of himself for getting AJs and just stood there for a while. Then when AJ didn't leave stage - "Oh, there's more to you, isn't there?". Very insightful, Tom.

Second half was an absolute masterpiece of a longform, I really hope they put it up. Sam played a child (always fun) and Luke was his mom (which in an incredible dynamic). Luke never can let a woman's role go by, can he? Tom got a detail wrong in this one (!!!!) and caught himself, which was just so funny. He also made AJ fully lose it on stage multiple times with references.

Genuinely didn't think it could get better than last night, and it did. I really really hope I can see them again live some day, it's just such an experience in person...I hope everyone gets a chance to go :)

#sfth #shoot from the hip #sfth live show #luke manning #tom mayo #sam russell #aj #i also got to meet them after the show!!!!!#spoke to Luke for a bit and he is genuinely so so so lovely!#he was just so sweet!!!#and i said like #3 words to Tom #but he was also extremely nice #they're just such absolutely wonderful people #anyway #i am just so happy with this whole trip #it was worth it 10 times over

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ceoofglytchell · 23 hours ago

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So this is love (Part 3)

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Summary: Your younger brother has been acting different lately. You noticed his one-eyed stare lingering on places it should not and when you tell Aegon about it one evening, he just has the perfect idea what to do about it.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Twin Sister!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Word count: 5160 words

Warnings: incest, MDNI, Reader has Targaryen features, fluff, humor, complicated sibling relationships, tension, threesome, aegond mentioned, lactation kink, breeding kink, brief breastfeeding, subby aemond, masturbation, porn with plot, piv sex, voyerism kinda, jealous!aemond, possessive!aegon, no mention of Y/N

Notes: You asked, I deliver. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Aemond was behaving differently than before.

The first time you noticed it was when he helped you carry some books. Aegon had been talking—or rather arguing—with your mother which was why he couldn't be by your side, but your younger brother offered you a helping hand.

Together you carried the heavy books to your chambers. You were now six months pregnant, almost seven, and soon you would be advised to stay in your chambers to protect yourself and the child. You certainly didn't want to be bored, which is why you had gathered a lot of books from the castle library.

In your chambers, you had placed the books on the table, and you stretched afterward to banish the morning's tiredness from your limbs. The swelling of your belly was clearly visible through the fabric of your dress.

Aemond stared at you. Or rather, your belly.

You couldn't know what was going through his mind, and only when you snapped your fingers and repeatedly said his name did he wake up from whatever dream he was having and look at you as if you'd just hit him.

After that, he quickly said his goodbyes and left.

It was strange. You didn't know what to make of it, but you decided to keep it to yourself for now.

Aemond was your little brother. He was probably just lost in his thoughts, you told yourself.

A week later, another incident occurred.

You were sitting alone in your chambers, embroidering by the fireplace, when Aemond walked through the door. His steps were slow, careful, and deliberate. You knew why.

"He's not here," you assured him without him even having to ask.

"Hmm."

He waited for an explanation. You'd always been good at reading him, even though you naturally felt the strongest connection with your husband.

"I allowed him to go drinking with his companions in the city," you told him honestly.

Aegon and the sweet wine from the Arbor had always been inseparable. Almost as inseparable as the two of you. He knew you weren't allowed to drink wine at the moment, because of the child, which was why he'd deliberately held back. Hells, he even always wiped his mouth after he'd had a drink so you wouldn't taste wine on his lips when he kissed you.

That's how much he loved you and the child growing inside you.

"And he just left you here alone?" Aemond asked you suddenly, causing you to tilt your head.

"I allowed him," you repeated formally.

Your younger brother was a dark presence in the middle of the comfortably lit room. Whenever he came, it seemed to you as if he brought a certain coldness with him. Sometime after he lost his eye, he lost himself. He probably didn't even know when that exact moment was.

"And you don't think he could be having fun with a whore right now?"

The mere thought of it made you laugh. Not because it was so funny, but because it was stealthily absurd.

"Brother, be serious. I'm his twin. Don't you think I would feel it if he did that?"

For a moment, the room was shrouded in silence. Only the flickering of the fireplace and the chirping of the birds outside in the sky could be heard. He took one step toward you. Then two, and suddenly he was standing directly in front of the sofa where you had sat down. There was something in his gaze that you couldn't interpret.

It was almost like a burning flame glowing in the depths of his violet gaze.

He raised his hand and his fingers cupped your chin. He held it tight and simply stared down at you.

You let it happen.

You were confused. Your little brother had never done anything like this before. You didn't know how to react. Only Aegon touched you like this.

"Aemond..." you whispered his name softly, hoping it would wake him from the trance he was trapped in. It was in vain.

His grip on your chin lingered, and his thumb gently stroked the underside of your lower lip. The touch was too intimate, too special, to be an accident.

He wanted to touch you like this.

"My sweet sister and her optimistic view of the world," he murmured, sounding as if he were talking more to himself than to you.

His thumb stroked your lip again, more clearly this time, and his gaze wandered down your body. He took in the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your hair fell loose over your shoulders, your pale skin, and the way the fabric of your light green dress hugged your figure.

His pupil was dilated, his gaze full of wonder, and then, quite suddenly, he withdrew his hand and turned his back.

You, on the other hand, simply exhaled the breath you'd been holding all this time. Finally, it was over. Whatever that was...

"Good evening, sweet sister," he whispered, closing the door behind him.

You brushed your face with your hand and leaned back against the cushion of the sofa.

Should you tell Aegon about this?

Aegon returned to your shared chambers late that evening. He was obviously tipsy, but he was beaming from ear to ear when he saw you. He opened his arms as if to embrace you, then stumbled toward you.

"My beloved wife!" he explained happily before falling to his knees in front of you and resting his forehead against your pregnant belly.

"And hello to you too, my little dragon," he whispered before placing a small kiss on the fabric of your dress.

His voice was slurred, but despite everything, you could hear how much you and the babe meant to him. You were his twin, after all, and you had been trying for six years. Now, finally, it worked.

A long sigh escaped him and he leaned his forehead against your belly while his hands stroked your thighs. It had a calming effect on you, and you could immediately feel the tension leave your shoulders.

He always managed to calm you down.

"Darling... I need to talk to you," you began gently, but you immediately felt Aegon's fingers curl into the fabric of your dress. He knew that tone. You wanted to talk.

He merely made a small noise of protest and closed his eyes, pretending he'd just fallen asleep from all the alcohol, but you knew him better than that. He was very much awake and listening intently. He was practically glued to your every word whenever you spoke.

"Have you noticed that Aemond has been acting differently lately than usual?" you asked him cautiously, hoping you weren't just imagining it all.

Your brother-husband chuckled against the fabric of your soft, silken gown and snuggled even closer to you. Gods, he loved you so much. To him, you were both the Maiden and the Mother, especially since you carried his heir inside of you. He would forever worship at the altar of your beauty if you would allow it.

"Aemond is a twat," he murmured, amused. "He always acts strangely."

You gently ran your hand through his wild silver hair so it wouldn't fall over his forehead. You wanted to see his beautiful face, not just imagine it.

"I mean it, my love. He's acting strange," you insisted.

You were such a stubborn person. Just like him. After all, you were one and the same.

"Explain it to me, my love," he finally sighed, turning his head so he was resting on your lap and could look up at you, while your fingers continued to comb his hair.

"He keeps staring at me! He—"

"You mean like this?" he interrupted with a laugh, holding one of his hands over his left eye to cover it as if it were an eye patch.

You rolled your eyes in a frenzy and gave him a gentle hit on the shoulder, which only made him laugh more.

"This isn't funny, Aegon," you chided him, and he put his hand down and snuggled back into your soft lap.

"I know, I know... The funny thing is, he's still such a handsome bastard despite all this," he finally grumbled.

"Hey, you're handsome too, darling."

"I know."

The arrogant grin on his face was infuriating on the one hand and cute on the other. Oh, you hated how he could make you feel all these things.

No, actually, you loved it.

"But listen to me now," you began again. "He... he questioned our marriage. He said you were cheating on me with some whores from the city's brothels."

Your husband's expression darkened instantly. The violet in his eyes darkened so much it was almost black, and you could almost feel him burning inside.

"He did what?" His voice was ragged and deep, and it sent a shiver down your back.

"Aemond came to me today when I was alone. I told him you weren't here, and then he speculated that you were in a brothel. He touched me and looked at me like I was a precious necklace or—or a piece of meat," you told him, remembering what had happened a few hours ago.

You didn't see it, but at your words, Aegon's gaze darkened even further. Something flared up within him. Jealousy, a protective instinct, and something very possessive.

You were his twin, his beautiful sister, his wife, and the mother of his child. You were his.

If your little brother even thought he could take you away from him, he would show him exactly how much you meant to him. He would show him that while he may desire you, he will never possess you.

Never.

"Come," he said suddenly, standing up, holding out his hand, to which you just looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. You were a little confused. Again.

"What are we doing?" you asked him as he helped you to your feet, instinctively putting an arm around your waist and beginning to lead you out the door.

He didn't answer you.

The door to your chambers slammed behind you, and he began leading you down the corridor. The sky had already turned pitch black, and not a soul was moving across the courtyard. A few torches burned here and there on the walls, and the sound of metal armor could be heard whenever a guard moved through the halls.

Halfway there, you realized where your husband was taking you.

"No, Aegon, please. We can't go to him. Not now. He—"

"Not a word!" he interrupted your pleading and simply pulled you further down the corridor. He loved you more than anything in the world, and now he was going to prove it to his annoying little brother.

He didn't want to see it? Now he was going to be confronted with the truth.

While your husband had a precise plan of what he was about to do, you didn't know. You placed a protective hand on your round belly and hurried with him, trying to keep up with his quick steps.

You were on your way to Aemond's chambers.

You didn't want any arguments. Ever since that fateful evening on Driftmark, you hated arguments like a pest. Your family was destroying each other, so much hatred was growing that the cracks and the facade of House Targaryen were slowly beginning to crumble.

But you wouldn't be the ones that would bring everything crashing down.

Tonight, however, something would change anyway.

Aemond looked up in surprise from the cramped history book lying on the table in front of him as the wooden door to his chambers opened with a jerk. He himself was sitting in his favorite armchair in front of the fireplace, in which a flame flickered.

One of his eyes widened as he saw his older brother leading you by the hand into his rooms.

Aegon hardly seemed drunk, but his gaze was wild, like that of an angry animal. He was furious. Frenzied, even.

You, on the other hand, seemed confused and unaware of what was happening. This, in turn, infuriated the One-Eyed Prince. He was your husband and should treat you with more respect and tenderness.

Especially now, when you were so fragile, carrying his child.

Aemond didn't see you entwine your fingers with Aegon's, or instinctively lean against his side. He didn't see Aegon look over to make sure you were okay and that you lacked nothing.

Aemond might have noticed, but he didn't want to see it.

"Brother? Sister?" he asked, closing the book in front of him. An ancient tale about the conquest of Westeros done by Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys.

Aegon didn't answer him. Instead, he gently brushed the few loose strands of hair from his face before his thumb lingered for a few seconds on the soft, warm skin of your cheek.

"Isn't she beautiful?" asked the older brother, looking at his younger brother.

For a moment, Aemond didn't know how to respond. Of course you were beautiful. With your silver curls and amethyst-colored eyes, you were the epitome of a Targaryen princess—a future queen. Pregnancy only made you shine brighter than usual.

Your smile was like a cold breeze on an unbearably hot day, and he still remembered how you helped him regain his balance after losing his eye.

You were a blessing sent by the gods themselves.

"She is lovely, Aegon," he finally answered, his voice calm and collected, betraying nothing of the storm raging within him.

"Lovely, huh?"

Aegon buried his head in the crook of your neck and placed a few gentle kisses along your throat while wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands resting on the curve of your belly.

Aemond could hardly contain himself at the scene. He wanted this, too. He wondered how your warm and soft body would press against his, how your skin would feel beneath his fingertips, and how sweetly you would moan for him if he had you lying on your back beneath him.

He knew he shouldn't think of you like that, but he couldn't help it.

Not after seeing Aegon pleasuring you several times. Like the time he found you, sitting on the windowsill with your husband disappearing between your thighs, bringing you to climax. Or the other time he interrupted you in the library.

To this day, he couldn't sit in that chair because every time he thought of you kneeling before Aegon, your tongue running over his shaft.

Once, after a night with Madame Sylvie, he even saw the two of you enjoying yourselves in the middle of the brothel. You'd danced, wearing such a thin fabric that perfectly showcased your curves, while Aegon had guided your hips and was obviously hard.

He wanted to touch you too.

"My wife informed me that you've been particularly attentive to her lately. Is that true, little brother?" the older prince asked him as he continued to pepper your neck with kisses, making your eyelids flutter.

"Attentive? How exactly?"

Aegon was about to answer, but this time you were quicker: "Well, you're staring at me. You've been different since I became pregnant. You're always coming to me when Aegon isn't here, you help me, you—"

"Shouldn't all good brothers help their sisters?" Aemond replied, to which you immediately shook your head.

"Not like that. You're looking at my breasts. At my stomach," you finally said, which only further confirmed your husband's suspicion.

"You stupid cunt," Aegon said suddenly. "You desire my wife."

For a moment, the room was shrouded in silence, and neither of you said a word. In fact, you hardly dared to breathe. The tension was palpable.

"She is a beautiful woman," Aemond said finally. He didn't even try to hide it now, as it was no longer useful. "Of pure Valyrian blood."

"Yes, and she carries my heir, Aemond. Mine!" Aegon cried, emphasizing that you belonged to him. You were his heart. His better half. No one could tear you apart. No one. He would make sure of that.

The one-eyed prince rose from his chair and slowly strode toward you. The way he moved and the way his eyes never left you sent shivers down your spine. He reminded you of a wild dragon lying in wait. And you were his prey.

"But it is not just her I desire," Aemond confessed in a calm voice, causing Aegon to blink in confusion.

He hadn't seen that coming.

"Aemond..." you whispered softly, seeing a bright blush begin to play around his pale cheeks.

It seemed as if your little brother wanted not only you for himself, but your twin as well. You couldn't blame him. Aegon was a beautiful man.

It wasn't the first time you'd heard a man express interest in him. It had happened a few times in the city's brothels, too. Just as many women wanted you.

Desire went in many directions, it seemed.

Suddenly, you felt your husband's warm breath on your ear, and he whispered, "Before the child comes... shall we have a night of fun? A night of joy? What do you say, my love? You shall decide."

You turned your head and simply looked at him for a moment. The light from the fireplace played around Aegon's face, and the wild strands of his hair fell over his forehead.

You leaned toward him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Aegon wasted no time and took your face in his hand, deepening the kiss.

Aemond looked down at the floor. He didn't want to look at this.

Then, all of a sudden, a soft whisper sounded, demanding his attention again: "Aemond..."

He looked up and saw Aegon peppering your neck with kisses while you looked at Aemond. Your pupils were dilated, and you reached out a hand to him.

He didn't wait a second. This was probably the only night he would get what his heart yearned for. He wouldn't ignore this opportunity.

Aemond was with you immediately. Slowly and carefully, he raised a hand and stroked it through your long, silver hair. It was as silky as he'd always imagined it to be. He took a strand in his hand and brought it to his nose, and the moment he inhaled the sweet, floral scent, he knew.

He knew that no other woman would ever be suitable for him.

He only wanted you. His sweet sister.

Your brother-husband gently bit the sensitive skin on your neck, eliciting a soft moan. He knew exactly how to make you sing.

Aemond's other hand gently rested on your swollen belly, and for a second, he was able to lose himself in the fantasy that you were carrying his child and not that of his drunken, foolish brother. You two were twins, but he still believed he could treat you better.

Aegon's lips traveled down to your collarbone, where he continued to leave a line of kisses until he noticed where his brother's hand was resting.

He would let this night happen, but he certainly wouldn't let him think that you might one day be his. This was going too far.

He took his younger brother's hand and instead brought it higher to your chest, eliciting gasps from both you and Aemond. The small noise caused the elder to feel all his blood rush south.

Aemond immediately began kneading your breast. The flesh was soft and warm, and, gods, he would give anything to rest his head on those two perfect pillows every night. He wondered if your breasts were already producing milk for the coming child.

Aegon's hands wandered to the knot of your robe, and he gently lowered it down your shoulders until it finally fell to the floor next to the three of you. You now stood before them in only your thin nightgown, which didn't hide much of your curves. It was loose, yes, but the fabric was almost sheer.

Aemond's one eye instantly widened. You were a heavenly sight. Your curves—once delicate—were now softer and more womanly, your breasts were swollen, and your belly was full and round.

You were by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Aegon grinned wickedly when he saw the expression of wonder on his younger brother's face as he gazed upon his beloved twin sister. This was exactly how he had imagined it.

"Isn't she truly divine?" Aegon whispered, gently biting your sensitive earlobe without giving her any sign, causing you to gasp in shock, which in turn made Aemond barely contain himself.

He wanted you. He needed you.

"Aegon—Oh! Aegon…" you moaned as he then began to mark the sensitive skin beneath your ear, kissing and sucking on it.

"Gods, she's so beautiful," Aemond finally replied breathlessly, causing your twin to giggle.

"Yes, is she not? I'm truly lucky to call her my wife. The mother of my children," Aegon said possessively, instinctively pressing himself against your backside, whereupon you could clearly feel his erection against your rear.

The feeling was certainly not unfamiliar to you, but you'd never done it with another person before. Of course, you'd been caught many times in the past by Aemond, or by some knights, lords, ladies, and others, but this was different.

This was new, and admittedly, it was very exciting.

The feeling of Aegon's erection was intoxicating, and it made you feel bolder. As if you could suddenly do anything. He'd always had that effect on him, and he probably always would on you.

"You're dressed far too warmly, little brother. Don't you agree?" you asked him, your breath getting faster and faster with every kiss your husband pressed to your neck, marking you as his.

He may have agreed to let you share Aemond's bed tonight, but you were still his. You belonged only to him, and the child within you proved it.

Your little brother didn't nod his head until you finished the sentence, and he immediately began undoing the buckles on the front of his doublet with trembling fingers.

Your twin brother's hands picked up where your younger brother left off, kneading your breasts, eliciting a series of pleasurable moans and gasps. You had become so sensitive these days, and Aegon loved it. If it were up to him, he would impregnate you over and over again so you would stay like this forever.

The feeling of his hands made you move your hips against your husband's, hoping to ease some of the tension that was building inside you like a gigantic wave, but to no avail.

The leather doublet fell to the floor, and Aemond hurried to peel off the shirt he wore underneath. It fell to the floor next to the leather and your silk robe, leaving him in only his trousers, his boots, and his eye patch.

The sight of his pale, muscular torso alone made you groan, and when you reached out to touch him, Aemond couldn't hold back.

Instead of guiding your hand to his chest so you could caress his muscles, he leaned down and kissed you as if his entire life depended on it. The kiss was messy and more teeth than tongue, but it was wonderful.

Aegon gripped your hips harder at the sight, moving his hips fast and hard against yours, chasing the sensation of release himself.

You ran your hands through your brother's hair, down to his chest, and finally to the hem of his trousers, which you immediately began to undo with nimble fingers.

You wanted to see him.

You wanted to feel him.

Seven hells, you wanted to taste him.

Aemond grunted deeply as he felt your fingers quickly and easily unbutton his trousers. He could hardly wait to feel your delicate hands on his cock. It had been a fantasy he'd had since he was a little boy, when Aegon first took him—without your knowledge—to one of the city's brothels.

The woman who took his virginity back then had been old, and there was no love or lust in the act, and the memory of her disgusted him, but you... You had been his object of desire ever since he learned what desire even was.

But suddenly, just before you were ready to slip your hand beneath the fabric, Aegon lifted you into his arms, eliciting a squeal of surprise. He carried you to the bed and lowered you gently and carefully, not wanting to harm you or his heir.

Your husband quickly climbed over you on the mattress and looked down at you with darkened, almost black eyes. The amethyst color of his—and your—eyes had almost completely disappeared.

Lying beneath him in your thin, white nightgown, your long silver hair fanning out beneath you, you looked like a goddess to him.

Like The Mother herself.

"May I?" your beloved whispered to you, to which you quickly nodded.

Without a second's hesitation, he grabbed the end of the only piece of fabric that wasn't covering you and pulled it over your head with a yank before throwing it somewhere on the floor next to the bed.

"Seven Hells..." Aegon cursed when he saw you lying around him without any clothing.

He had seen you naked thousands and thousands of times, but never like this. The last few months of your pregnancy only made you more beautiful in his eyes.

"You're becoming more beautiful every day, my heart," he said speechlessly, letting his hands wander slowly, almost adoringly, over your body.

"You too," you replied with a smile before gently patting his tunic, telling him that he should finally do the same.

He understood immediately and pulled his light blue tunic over his head and threw it behind him. His pants and boots followed, until finally, he lay completely naked on top of you, kissing you with a passion that would never bore you.

Your twin brother lowered his hand to your most intimate place and let one of his thick fingers wander through your slit, bringing a cheeky grin to his lips.

"You're always ready for me so quickly. My perfect girl," he whispered, raising his hand to his face, showing you how wet you already were for him.

A dirty grin spread across your face and you opened your mouth, blinking innocently up at him. He put his finger in your mouth and immediately closed your lips around it, sucking your own juices from his finger.

You couldn't help but moan, at which point your husband reached down for his cock and stroked himself a few times to get himself fully hard.

He pulled his finger out of your mouth and grabbed your thighs, pushing them apart so he could lie between them. It was difficult because of your belly, but you had done it before and you would do it again today.

A soft grunt from the background caught your attention, and you could feel your inner walls immediately tightening when you saw Aemond standing at the foot of the bed, masturbating to the sight of the two of you.

His cock seemed a little longer than Aegon's, but Aegon's was definitely thicker. You liked both of them and would love to take them both in your mouth at the same time, if you could.

Your brother followed your gaze and also licked his lips when he saw Aemond and how his hand quickly stroked up and down his cock over and over again.

It made him even harder.

"Come here, brother. Join us," Aegon commanded, reaching out a hand to him.

To your surprise, he obeyed and climbed onto the bed next to you. He was now kneeling beside his older brother, looking down at you with him.

It was the most erotic thing you'd ever seen.

"You won't come inside her. You won't fuck her. But our sweet sister needs lots of loving, and so feel free to touch her," Aegon explained, and this time his expression was serious. You were only his.

"And you?" Aemond asked, his voice soft and intimate.

"Yes, please," Aegon grinned before turning back to you and slowly sliding his cock into your tight cunt.

You were so wet that he could easily slide in and move immediately without you having to adjust to his size.

Your moans and the sound of skin against skin filled the room, and Aemond couldn't hold back any longer.

He lay down by your side and began with lavish kisses on your breast. It was just as soft as he'd imagined. While he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked on it, you took his cock in your hand and moved it up and down, working him to his climax.

Aegon moved his hips fast and hard against yours, swallowing your moans with his mouth. Your kisses were heated, and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

He was close.

Your thumb stroked the tip of Aemond's cock, and he shuddered because your touch felt so incredibly good.

With one last hard thrust, Aegon came inside you, but instead of lying down next to you and snuggling up to you, he grabbed Aemond by the hair and pressed an aggressive kiss to his lips.

That was what sent Aemond over the edge as well, spurting his seed all over his stomach. The white fluid dripped down your chest and onto your pregnant belly.

You were now the only one who hadn't climaxed yet, but your brothers would never abandon you.

Aegon turned away from Aemond again and pressed his face against one of your breasts. He loved your breasts. They were the best pillow he'd ever slept on.

"If you're lucky, brother, you'll get to taste her," Aegon murmured before wrapping his lips around your nipple and sucking. Meanwhile, one of his fingers played with your sensitive pearl.

Aemond watched the scene, breathing heavily, and then he saw it. The smile on Aegon's face as a few drops of milk moistened his tongue.

He licked his lips, and you smothered him, taking your own breast in your hand and massaging it, hoping he would want it too.

Without saying a word, he too leaned down and closed his mouth around your other nipple, sucking so hard that the satisfaction almost bordered on pain.

The moment a drop of milk dripped onto his tongue, Aemond was sure he had somehow entered the heavens and was now in the arms of a goddess.

You gently stroked your two brothers' silver hair as they feasted on the drops of your milk that your body was already producing for the child. Your husband stroked your pearl faster, and then suddenly, with a loud moan of both their names, you came.

As you fell asleep that night in the arms of your two brothers, all you could think about was:

Was that a mistake? Probably.

But did you regret it? Never.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @elliott-calls @themoonofthesun

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon ii fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aegon x reader x aemond #tom glynn carney #ewan mitchell

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chanrizard · 2 days ago

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Q if you could swap bodies with your unit mate, what would you do

🐥 uhmmmmmmmm

🐺 if you were me what would you wanna do

🐥 first i'd want to feel up your muscles because they're big, they're so big [kneads said muscles] it's really amazing...[squeeze squeeze]

🐥 then i'd want to try exercising with his body too, i wanna see how much i can lift

🐺 (laughs)

🐺 if i were felix i'd want to customize my PC and make it really stylish

🐥 wouldn't you want to smash it?

🐺 nonononononono i'd like to sit down in front of it

to get the feeling

Q what food/place would you want to recommend in Australia?

🐥 something with meat, how can i say it? probably an australian barbecue

🐺 i would like to recommend a place to have a barbecue, there are so many parks in australia, there are lots of places in the parks where you can have a barbecue

like a shared area that anyone can use? it feels great to be in nature and i highly recommend it

Q if you were to write a song together what concept would you like to try

🐺 you have some songs you're currently working on, right? *winks*

🐥 actually i do have a song i'm working on

🐺 idk when we'll be able to announce/release it

🐥 chan hyung was working on this song first and suddenly he asked me, would you like to work on this song together? i readily agreed. I've been writing english lyrics for the first time in a while

About the concept.... it's a little deep but the more i listen to it the more addictive it becomes

I can only say this much for now...the concept of the song is "love"? "Deep love" even

🐺 i think the concept will change depending on the listener's interpretation.

Really, all the members have been working on songs, Felix also worked on his own projects in his own way, i decided to work with him because i wanted to give him (his song?) a chance to be on the album

🐥 i enjoy working every day, i'm having fun doing it HA. HA. HA.

🐺 i'd love to work with Felix again in the future (i'm assuming one on one), but he's always busy and refuses every time (laughs)

🐥 EVERY TIME?????

Q what do you usually talk about when you two talk together?

🐥 oh, there are many different topics to talk about

🐺 (laughs)

🐥 there is no meaningful conversation, we often just mess around, we relax and relieve stress by messing around with each other

Sometimes we have serious conversations, sometimes we talk about music, we talk about how we're feeling, what we're thinking, etc

🐺 it's just as Felix said

🐥 we also talk about games!!

🐺 while we have a busy schedule, we feel better when we mess around with each other... I think it's easier because we're both from Australia

🐥 I can speak English too

🐺 right, how many [questions] have we done now?

🐥 1-2-3-4-5

🐺 last question

🐥"can you tell me how to study a language?"

i'm currently studying japanese little by little, one thing i can say for sure is to practice speaking a lot if you want to improve your skills faster

I need to keep practicing the language I think the best thing to do is keep practicing by speaking, the most important thing is to have a conversation

Of course studying basic language like letters (grammar???) is also good, that's going to take a lil bit longer

Korean was very difficult, as time passed I think my language improved a lot because i spoke with chan hyung and the members

🐺 be brave and keep going, if you don't gain experience you can't learn, everyone makes mistakes at first

🐥 even if you make a mistake, accept it, you just need to do it again properly

🐺 let's just give it a try!

#🚨 might contain inaccuracies i unforch do not speak a word of japanese or korean if you don't count the very very very basics #so i'm trusting google translate here 🚨

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pey-up · 2 days ago

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"The pregames are the opposite of their ingames" hc is very good, but im very annoyed with how people carry it out! Do more than just making kokichi a soft crybaby, shuichi a yandere, and kaede a jerk!

Kokichi is guarded, calculated, and a (loveable sometimes, but still) asshole. So his reverse would not be an uwu soft boy, he'd probably lean more toward being kind though. Wouldnt it make more sense for this version to wear his heart on his sleeve? Not that he'd never ever lie, but he's definitely unfiltered, and couldnt plan or scheme to save his life. He's not flamboyant or loud, although maybe the reason he joins danganronpa is he *wants* to be, but instead the thing in game kokichi hates most. *Boring*. Predictable.

Shuichi being yandere makes me soooo mad. I hate it. BUT I do love him being a super fan of the games, and idolizing Kyoko. I dont think he'd be a junko fanboy, but like most fans of the game, agree that shes fun and iconic. My favorite hc I've given pregame Shuichi (or Kage i guess since thats the name people gave him for some reason?) Is that he is INSANELY confident. Did you see him in that tape!? He was so confident he was going to be a killer (but he also planned his own execution, so he knows that danganronpa would never let a killer go because that's not the point of the games, so hes got enough sense to realize that). If you havent noticed already, i reallyy like contrast and parallels, and pregame saihara being confident that he's the worlds best detective and most clever contestant is just amusing to me. I like this one a lot...<3 why does he have the hat in pregame? Uhhh idk, either he thinks it looks cool and mysterious (very likely), or he's just bad at eye contact (autism)

Kaede being Jecka from class of 09 coded is kinda funny to me tbh, but the whole "i have no faith in humanity!" line strikes me as she totally has a pinterest board of dark emo quotes and unironically believes them. You just know she tells people she has a dark and twisted sense of humor, and she loves danganronpa because shes soooo messed up. In game kaede is sweet, hopeful, and a leader, so this one is mean, doesnt believe in others, and girlfailure. I kinda love the all the same though, even if she couldnt inspire a plant to photosynthesize</3

"Wait wheres kaito" IDK WHAT TO SAY FOR KAITO. HES LIKE KAEDE BUT JOCK. IM DOING MAKI INSTEAD BECAUSE YOU LOT DID HER DIRTY.

Im so mad at peoples pregame maki. Why doesnt she get the swap treatment too, huh?! She deserves it! Maki is cold, calculated, strong, etc. So this ones my favorite. Shes a dork, she's still strong but very silly. She has a super loud laugh that she tries to cover, and i love her so so much. She definitely made her assassinsona though and showed it to tsmugi like shuichi did with his own detectivesona. Not because shes a dangan superfan! But because shes played assasins creed 5 times and can tell you how historically accurate it is with alarming detail. Shes clumsy and dorky but she is NOT weak or stupid, shes still like slightly intimidating just by sitting there (as is oma) but she wouldnt ever do anything! Shes just a lil gal!!<3 a little gal who has every historically significant posion memorized, but nevertheless!

(she listens to murder mystery podcasts with shuichi and she and kokichi are friends dont @ me.)

Ok ok, thats the end of my rant, i also kinda want to write a oneshot about shuichi and kokichis relationship because i have a super cool concept in my head. But we will see..

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melwsnt · 2 days ago

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HIII, I’m so happy someone still writes for dick Grayson titans, I was wondering if you could make a dating headcanons list for dick Grayson for GN or fem. Thank you so much if you ever get to doing it!!

yes yes and yes. He and the show are so underrated people are missing out! Finding fics on here is so hard so your wish is my command! If you have any other requests for dick let me know<3

DATING DICK GRAYON WOULD INCLUDE…

word count. 1,1k

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- this is a very obvious one but, dick is so protective. Given that you’re basically fighting villains like every day, seeing bruises on you makes his blood boil. He loves doing this with you, but if you stayed home, had a normal job that didn’t require risking death all the time, he wouldn’t complain about that because you’d be safe and he wouldn’t have to worry as much.

-he does think about what a normal life would look like by your side so often. Fighting crime is his lifeline, but so are you and if you asked him to, he’d quit in an instant. Only you matter.

-even if he was raised in the weirdest way possible, I mean he literally got taken in by Batman himself- he was also raised to be a gentleman, his parents made sure of it, and so did Bruce- though he wasn’t here that much.

-Dick would do anything- and I mean anything to keep you safe. Whether it’s killing people, fighting them until enough blood is drawn, or just shelter you, he does it. You do feel a bit over protected from time to time- but you know he means well. He tries not to suffocate you, and he knows the limits, but it’s dick..

-you do make fun of his name sometimes. Richard makes you laugh, but Dick is too funny to you. The first time he introduced himself, you laughed in his face. Dick has a big ego, so he couldn’t stand you for the first couple minutes, and then he got to know you, and he forgot about that incident though you never fail to remind him that his name makes you laugh.

-so… in bed? Yeah. You know where his nickname comes from. (Obviously didn’t come from that but you know what I mean.) Or at least it suits him. Dick is GREAT. Like mind blowing Great. Everytime is like the first time, a good first time. The princess treatment is crazy. If you’re too tired, don’t even worry about lifting a single finger, he’ll take care of you.

-whenever you’re in the middle of fighting evil people, dick sometimes gets distracted. He either looks at you, to see if you’re okay, which he knows you always are because you’re one hell of a fighter, but he also lets his eyes trail over your body when he has a second. He thinks you look hot. He thinks that you, look like the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen. The way you move, the way your body’s snatched under your costume.. it does drive him crazy. He did get knocked out a couple times in the past because he was too distracted to see the fist coming.

-dick is a yapper. He’s such a gossip. He’s also pretty funny. He makes you belly laugh at whatever hour, if you’re laying in bed, naked or not, he’ll tell a joke, or something embarrassing that happened to him, and you’ll laugh so loud he’ll have to put his hand on your mouth, shush you and tell you not to wake up the others, which immediately will make you laugh even harder. He’s so good at it. And he loves it.

-because danger comes with the job, if and/or when you get hurt, which is pretty much inevitable, dick is the biggest caregiver. He’ll put any plan aside, he doesn’t care about hurting anyone’s feelings because he has to take care of you. You have to beg him to get away from you for a little bit. Go on a walk, clear his head, because he’s always there. You love it- but he can’t give up his entire life for you. When it comes to him getting hurt though, even if you try to be the same, he doesn’t let you. He has more authority than you, so you comply. HOWEVER! When either of you come home after a fight, are all bloody, and have cuts that need bandaging, you can be sure it’ll end with steamy sex. One of you is stitching up the other, looks up, ( most of the time you stitch him up) he gives you the eyes, and you’re gone. Most of the time- that’s the best sex.

-dick is a great cook. He’s great at baking too. Baking with him is very therapeutic. A lot of times, he’ll bake and you’ll be siting on the counter next to him, he thinks it’s hot, so he’ll go stand between your legs and make out. Forget about whatever it is you’re baking, it’s just you and him, hands all over each other and you might end up in the bedroom. However, there’s a very high chance Rachel and/or gar might walk in on you, close their eyes with their hands and pretend like they just witnessed the grossest thing ever. Full of ‘ew!’ ‘Get a room!’ ‘That’s so gross!’ And you’ll just end up falling into a fit of laughter with dick.

-he’s big on words of affirmation and physical touch. He tells you he loves you any chance he gets because he knows what you do is dangerous, and a lot of people want the team dead. When it comes to physical touch, it doesn’t have to be sexual. Whether it’s a hand on your shoulder, at the small of your back, on your thigh or just holding your hand, dick needs that. He needs to feel you, to know that you’re close, to feel your presence, just to touch you.

-neither of you have families. His only family is pretty much Bruce, and although he loves you, and loves what you do for Dick, the man is cold and absent. So you’re pretty much each others family. Obviously, the team is your family, and you love them to death, but you know dick is the only one who has no chance of walking away. He’s probably the only one who’ll stay by your side until you’re grey and old, and you don’t mind. Neither of you can see your future with anyone else, it’s either you together, or you alone, no one else could fill in for him, or for you.

-I see this as friends to lovers maybe? Definitely unspoken feelings on both sides for a while, then maybe one of you gets hurt, and it ends up in a full love confession. Probably from you, you ramble, you’re scared to lose him, blah blah blah and he shuts you up by kissing you. It’s a heavy, passionate kiss that tells you he’s been wanting to do that for ages. From then on he can’t take his eyes off of you.

#imagine #fanfic #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x oc #dc titans #titans #headcanon #dcu

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smaller-comfort · 3 days ago

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For the WIP ask thing:

1, 2, 10, 11 (!!! Shovel Knight, of course!), 12, annnd 17. Really, I wanna know ALL the SoS WIPs, but let's start off with these.

Whew, okay, let's go!

Staycation/Monday

Me: I can definitely come up with enough fun kinky scenarios to write a week's worth of stories for Aephorul's vacation

Also me: he's a 45 year old man with chronic back pain, there's no way he's having this much sex on the floor without suffering Consequences. By Wednesday he's going to be too sore to get out of bed and Resh'an is going to be anemic from blood loss.

Anyway, Monday is the petplay story. I am currently stuck at a crossroads: do I write some relatively straightforward smut with collars and leashes and a dash of breeding kink? Or do I commit to Resh'an's sexual dysfunction, and the fact that he's really not supposed to orgasm until Friday- in which case I will have to figure out how to describe one of these, and its wearable counterpart. (link is very nsfw.)

The other staycation wips that I've made some progress on are the play piercing and shibari scene and the nipple torture/caning/general bondage scene. Plus a little bit of Friday, which is when they see how many times Resh'an can come after being stuck in a cage all week. (spoiler: they lose count.)

A scene that I want to write for them eventually, but maybe not within the Staycation series, is where they do some silly Mad Scientist roleplay- because even in this AU, there's going to be tentacle sex, damnit.

2. I fuckin hate the eagles, man

This is actually mostly a Messenger wip, and is the sequel to Hotel California. The title is, uh. because. Hotel California-> The Eagles-> The Great Eagle-> everything is Resh'an's fault-> I think I'm very funny-> at some point they're going to watch The Big Lebowski during movie night in the Tower of Time. There are currently 4 wips in that file; the first is a scene I didn't include in HC, where Ninja and Arty talk about the Sunken Shrine.

The second one is the Monk/Ninja pegging fic. Ninja can't even spell "PTSD", nevermind "queerplatonic". It's fine. He'll be fine! Eventually. Probably. ...maybe.

Third wip is the Ninja/Phantom smut, which is mostly just a wholesome good time for everybody, but Ninja does still cry during sex. I'm sorry, I keep doing this to him, I can't seem to help it.

The fourth one isn't even a wip, it's just a scene where Ninja meets Resh'an and hits on him. I feel like this one might be your fault, honestly. If this ever goes anywhere, I swear Ninja won't cry about it. Resh'an might, though.

"So are you like. A skeleton under there?"

Resh'an laughed. "Sometimes. I can use alchemy to temporarily approximate my living body. It doesn't work for very long, though."

"Can I see?" Resh'an wasn't a Blue Robe; there wasn't any taboo about asking to see his face.

"I- I suppose so." Resh'an seemed a little taken aback at the question. He fiddled with his alchemy vial for a moment. "I haven't done this in a while, give me a minute-"

Watching people do magic never got old. Maybe in a few hundred years he'd graduate to being ready to learn it himself; it was something to look forward to.

When the glowy light from the spell faded, Resh'an tugged down his face mask and squinted a little.

"Oh- wow. You're cute!" Shit. But the Archivist was- he'd been expecting a wrinkled old man, not this bright-eyed, adorable nerd.

"I- what?" Resh'an's eyes widened; he lifted a hand to touch his face. "Th-thank you?"

---

10. all we need of hell

This is part 4 of parting is all we know of heaven, which is the series where all of my B'st/Resh'an fic takes place. As the title kind of suggests, this one is a bit darker than the rest of the series; I get to dig into B'st's backstory a little, and all of the things he's kept hidden from Resh'an over the years. Aephorul shows up and is awful. (Everybody gets to be a little bit awful in this one, actually!) Resh'an has a few moments of badassery, but they're tempered with an equal number of moments where he's a sad wet rag.

Here he is being badass:

----

Aephorul's laughter came out as a dry hiss. “Are you threatening me?”

“I'm making a statement of fact.” The time shards hanging in the air all had razor sharp edges.

Aephorul leaned a little closer, as if he were examining Resh'an. “You're actually serious. How novel! What would you even do, I wonder?”

Resh'an narrowed his eyes. The ground beneath them began to shake, just a faint, distant tremor at first, followed by a shrieking howl.

The mountain broke open. In the heart of the shattered earth was something terrible, and hungry-

“Are you out of your mind?”

-snap-

The ground beneath them began to shake, just a faint, distant tremor at first, followed by a shrieking howl.

The mountain broke open. A darkness yawned open in the depths of the shattered earth, swallowing up the remains of the mountain, the fortress, the continent. Magma burst forth explosively, sublimating into superheated plasma. Reality warped around them, as the dead star Resh'an had summoned began to devour the planet.

-snap-

The ground began to shake.

“Stop! Stop- enough- are you mad- Fine!” Aephorul sat on a fallen piece of masonry with his head in his hands. “Fine. I'll help you. What do you want, Resh'an.”

----

11. shovel knight

There are 2 wips in this file. The first is Donovan/Luan, with an "and there was only one bed" recurring scenario taken to ridiculous extremes. I don't know if this one will actually end with them getting together or if it just stays angsty and one-sided; most of what I've written so far has just been Donovan in a state of "Oh fuck oh no he's hot".

The second is the one where Specter gets gang banged by the Enchantress and the Knights of No Quarter. Most of them, anyway. The Enchantress is probably going to mind control anyone who tries to protest or decline. Specter gets to keep his helmet on, but that's pretty much the only mercy he gets here. (I keep thinking of ways to make this one much, much worse but I'm probably going to chicken out.)

17. isolation

Oh god, okay, this file is a mess. Most of it is more B'st/Resh'an in the parting universe, although it's probably more of an AU to that series than anything else. A lot of it is wildly self indulgent Resh'an angst, where he ends up reenacting some of the abuse he experienced at Aephorul's hands with B'st, and it's kind of fucked up and unhealthy for everyone involved. There's also an angsty breakup scene, unrelated to the psychosexual torture. And there's a fairly innocuous and cute scene where they meet up on the Vespertine and Hortense roasts Resh'an mercilessly.

Like I said, a mess.

There's also this bit of Messenger wip, which is extremely silly but I don't really care. This might get thrown into I fuckin hate the eagles, man.

---

The Key of Love was melting.

“Arty! A little help over here?” he yelled.

He heard a few loud clanks from the workroom behind him. The music note dripped slowly onto the floor, leaving a glassy pink puddle on the ground. Ninja looked around frantically for a bucket or something- it couldn't be good to have the embodiment of divine love just kind of slopped all over the floor.

The last bit of the floating music note dripped onto the floor. Ninja stared at the puddle. It stared back.

“What the-” He jumped back and drew his sword. The puddle rippled, blinked, and began to rise up from the ground. Shit. “Shit. Arty! Prophet! C'mon, you guys, Monk is too busy making out with Shopkeeper- shit-”

One last crash from behind him, and Arty finally popped across the hall. “What's going on over he- B'ST!”

Ninja startled a little as Arty launched himself at the hulking mass that had been the Key of Love. It sprouted a pair of arms and caught him with a clang, and staggered back on two blocky legs from Arty's momentum.

The leap had knocked Arty's hood askew; his froggy face was beaming, and now he was talking too fast to really follow- "I searched the crypt six times and I couldn't find you, but all my calculations said you had to make it, Shopkeeper even said Prophet might have been wrong but I knew it, I knew you would make it, you're here, you finally came back, you have to meet everybody and we can show you the thing and-"

---

#nattering #literacy was a mistake #ask memes

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sykesandskittles · 3 days ago

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CHAPTER 17

Harlow

THE CLUB IS dark and loud, and I’m relieved when Wyn leads me to the bar, instead of the dance floor. Dancing isn’t my favorite thing—unless I’m drunk. After a few drinks, I’m a dancing queen. I’ll dance anywhere, with anyone. But I’m way too sober to hit the dance floor just yet.

As the bartender places a Mai Tai in front of me, a few of the other girls saddle up the bar, too. Nathan and a couple of the guys are right behind them.

Nathan settles next to me, trying to get the bartender’s attention, but he’s busy with the other girls.

I glance over at Noah and notice it’s just him, Nick, Nicholas, and Jolly sitting around the table. They look deep in conversation about something. Probably plotting something shady. Seems like something they would do.

“You get kicked out?” I ask Nathan, taking a sip of my drink. It’s a lot sweeter than I expected, and I scrunch my nose a little.

“I’m sorry?” Nathan says, raising his voice a little to be heard of the din of music and chatter.

I flick my chin in the direction of the table that we all just vacated. “The guys. Did they tell the rest of you to leave the table?”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, I guess they have something they need to talk about.”

“Fucking assholes,” I say, staring over at the table.

Nathan looks a little taken aback by my outright disdain. “They’re pretty cool, actually.”

Oh, fuck. Another mindless drone who drank the Noah Sabastian cool-aid. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me, though. Nathan is a member of the Burning Crown, so it makes sense that he’s offended on the Sons’ behalf. Still, it’s gross, and I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings.

“Sorry,” I say flatly. “I forgot those assholes are your friends.”

He manages to flag one of the bartenders down and orders a drink then turns and leans back on the bar, facing me. “You know, anyone on campus would kill to be in the position you’re in. It’s not often that random people are invited into The Circle. It’s an honor.”

An honor? Goddamn, this guy hasn’t just drunk the cool aid, he’s bathing in it on the daily.

“Right,” I say slowly. “Great point. I hadn’t thought of that.”

He smiles in approval. “Sometimes, it’s just a matter of perspective.” “Cool, yeah. Hey, have you seen my friend, Talia , by chance?” I pull up

a photo of her from my phone and show it to him. “Last time I saw her was yesterday morning.”

Nathan leans in, squinting at the photo, but when he pulls back, he looks uncomfortable. “Sorry, I haven’t seen her. I’m sure she’ll turn up. Have you asked her classmates?”

I shove my phone into my back pocket and blow out a breath. “Yup, I’ve been asking everyone.”

Nathan adjusts the sleeves on his jacket—more out of nervous habit, I’m guessing. “It’s not unusual for people to go missing around here…” A pause. “For a day or two…” he clarifies.

“Yeah, I’m hearing that a lot.” I flash him a tight smile. “Thanks, anyway.”

Making my excuses, I turn away from him to go find Wyn, who is sitting behind me, talking to one of the other Burning Crown girls.

“I’m starting to think I’m overreacting about Talia ,” I say to Wyn, taking a healthy sip of my drink. After the last couple of days I’ve had, I

can’t get drunk fast enough.

Wyn takes a sip from her tiny red straw and shimmies a little, clearly already feeling a little buzzed. “You need to loosen up. Have some fun.”

I suck down my drink and place the empty glass on the bar. I’m about to try and get the bartender’s attention to order another one, but before I can even lift my arm, the bartender slides a new Mai Tai in front of me.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I say.

He takes my empty glass and with a wink, scoots away to serve someone else.

“Wow, the service here is great,” I say to Wyn.

She laughs. “I’ve been trying to get that guy’s attention all night. But you have the benefit of being campus royalty.”

Okay, but we’re not even on campus. I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s clear Noah and his friends’ families run his entire town.

Still, this kind of deference to me, a nobody, is weird, and it feels really awkward because I’m so used to being invisible. And I like being invisible

—because when you’re in the background, you’re not in the line of fire. You’re safe. You’re watching everyone else’s drama, and you’re not in the middle of it.

“So, is that guy your boyfriend?” I ask Wyn, curious about her situation. She’s obviously dating that guy, but she was also kinda flirty with Nick back there.

She glances over at Gabriel, who is standing on the patio, talking to someone. The sliding door is closed, but we can see them through the large window. “Yeah,” she says unenthusiastically. “We’ve been dating for about a year.”

“He’s cute,” I offer.

She leans on the bar, head resting on her shoulder. I can tell she’s already tipsy. “Yeah, but all the guys at ExU are cute. I’m starting to think ExU has started requesting headshots with people’s applications.”

We both laugh at that, but I’m feeling bold, so I press further. “So what’s with you and Nick? You guys looked a bit flirty.”

I don’t know Wyn well enough to delve this deeply into her dating life, but she seems like one of those open-book type people.

She waves me off, swaying a little with the motion. “It’s nothing, really. Gabriel and I were having some trouble a few weeks ago, and Nick offered me some advice. So, yeah, I guess we’re friendly.”

I practically snort at that, because what I saw back at the table was more than friendly. But whatevs. Not my call to make.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence, so I glance around, vibing with the music, when I spot someone across the room. That guy, Ash, from the beach party last night–the one who said he saw Talia . Noah pulled me away before I could get the details of what he saw.

I glance at the table where Noah is still sitting. He’s deep in conversation with his bros, and not even paying attention to me.

I set my drink down on the bar in front of Wyn. “Watch my drink,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”

Wyn looks confused. “Where are you going?”

But I don’t answer, because I’m already plunging into the crowd, headed straight for the dance floor. I make a beeline for Ash, who is dancing with a pretty girl wearing little more than a T-shirt.

I’m such a lightweight that the one Mai Tai I had is already snaking through my veins, making me feel relaxed and a little dizzy. I walk straight up to Ash, but he’s so into the music and already buzzed himself, that he doesn’t even notice me.

I reach out and grab his arm, which immediately snags his attention. But when he sees me, standing in front of him, he reels back, like he’s just been jolted by a jump scare.

“Shit, where the fuck did you come from?” His nervous gaze darts around the immediate area. “Where’s your boyfriend? Does he know you’ve shed your leash?”

I glare at him, but I don’t respond to his little jab, because I need his help, so I step forward and place my hand on his rock-solid chest. “He’s not really my boyfriend,” I say. “He’s just really bad at taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

Ash smirks, and places his hand on mine, like he’s going to pull it off of his chest, but he doesn’t–not immediately, anyway. His warm hand folds around mine, and I can tell he’s into me. But I can also tell he’s stiff and uncomfortable—like he’s afraid Noah will pop up at any moment .

“I just wanted to ask you about my friend,” I say. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation from last night.”

His hand moves to stroke the underside of my chin. Then he tilts my chin up while bending to speak directly in my ear, so he can be heard over

the music. “You’re a brave one. And while I love a challenge, I’m not sure you’re worth the trouble. Noah isn’t a guy who likes to share.”

When he pulls back to look at me, I just blink at him, doing my best to look innocent and vulnerable. Guys love that. “I just want to talk about my friend. Two minutes, and then I swear, I’ll leave you alone.”

I’m practically pouting at his point, disgusting even myself, but I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he’s falling for it, hook, line, and sinker.

He glances around again, and deeming it safe, takes my hand and guides me to the edge of the room, to a dark corner that’s slightly more quiet. The music is still loud, but not nearly as deafening here.

Ash presses me against the wall, his large body shielding me from view. If anyone were to walk by, they’d only see the back of him. He dips his head and whispers in my ear. “You smell sweet, like vanilla.”

It’s my lotion, but I don’t say anything. Guys like a bit of mystery, and it’s better if he thinks it’s the natural smell of my skin. Guys are idiots, and honestly, all they really want is a fantasy. They don’t want a living, breathing woman who eats nachos, and sometimes smells like sweat.

“Thanks,” I say softly, playing this guy like a fiddle. “So, um, about my friend. When you saw her at the beach, what exactly did you see?”

“She was with a guy,” he says.

Okay, good. He’s the second person to say that, so I feel like I’m on to something. “Do you know who? What’s his name?”

Ash’s head is still close to mine, and his gaze is searching my face— like he’s taking in every detail, and trying to decide if he should kiss me or not. “I don’t know. It was dark,” he says. “But he was tall, dark hair, broad.” I push out a breath. That doesn’t fucking help at all. Half the guys at

ExU are tall, dark, and broad. “That’s not a very useful description.”

“I was drunk,” he offers. “So even if he was someone from ExU, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” He pauses. “But I do remember he had a particular kind of knife.”

I stiffen. “What? A knife?”

“Yeah, a pocket knife. The kind that collapses. Really expensive.”

I swallow, hoping he’s mistaken. I’m sure a lot of people have pocket knives, but the fact that Talia was last seen with a guy that no one can identify, and now it appears he had a knife. My blood runs cold. “How do you know he had a knife?”

“Because he tossed it to me when I asked around for something to open a new bundle of wood for the fire,” he says.

“But you didn’t see his face?” I ask, doubting this whole fucking thing now. How can you borrow someone’s knife and not see their face?

“I wasn’t really paying that close attention, to be honest.”

Guys are usually fucking oblivious, so I guess I can believe that. “What did the knife look like?”

I’m not above walking around, asking guys if I can borrow their pocket knives.

“It was old, silver, and it had an engraving. I think it was the initials W and H, but I don’t know. It was that old fucked up scroll lettering.”

Okay, well, that’s something, I guess. WH. How many people could be walking around with those initials?

“Well,” I say with a smile. “I guess you’re not completely useless, after all.”

His gaze drops from my face and falls to my chest. I’ve always had large breasts, and even a T-shirt can hide them. I suck in a breath, which causes my chest to expand, and my breasts to brush against his chest. His smile deepens, and his head dips again. This time I’m positive he’s going to kiss me, and a small part of me wants him to. He’s hot as fuck, and he’s not Noah Sabastian , so why not?

I tip my chin up and allow my eyelids to flutter closed, anticipating the feeling of his lips on mine. But seconds later, I hear a growl, and Noah’s deep, angry voice. “The fuck?”

I open my eyes to see Ash turn around to face Noah.

“I thought I made myself clear last night,” Noah says. “Guess not.” And then he throws a punch so quickly, it takes Ash by surprise, and he reels back. Noah catches him square in the jaw, and it’s a second before Ash recovers.

Holding his jaw, Ash straightens, and when he comes up for air, he’s laughing. “She came to me, bro. And you know what, I’m not all that surprised. Maybe she’s just not satisfied with that royally small dick.”

If the insult has any impact on Noah, he doesn’t show it. He smirks a little, as though daring Ash to return fire, and throw a punch of his own. Shockingly, he doesn’t. Not immediately, anyway. He just holds his jaw, his gaze darting between Noah and me like he’s trying to decide if he should engage .

After a few seconds, he shakes his head. “Nah, dude. I’m not looking for trouble.”

As Ash turns on his heel and pushes his way through the crowd that has gathered, the weight of disappointment washes over me. Any additional information I would have gotten from him is now completely fucked. I turn around to face Noah, anger lacing my tone—I can’t help it. He’s fucked this up for the second time, and before I know it, I’m launching myself at him.

I slam my fist into his hard chest, like a wild-fucking animal, but he manages to grab my wrist and hold my arm up, preventing a second blow. Then, in one smooth motion, he flings me over his shoulder and carries me through the club to the front entrance. I’m not light, but he doesn’t even seem to notice my weight. He just smoothly walks to the front door and says something to the valet in a low tone.

While we wait for his car to be brought around, I thrash around, his shoulder blade digging into my stomach.

“Put me down,” I demand, thrashing, kicking, beating his lower back… anything to get him to release me. Nothing. No response from him. And no one around us is responding either, despite my pleas for help.

There’s something wrong with this fucking town. Not only will no one help me, they won’t even look in my direction. It’s like I don’t even exist. It’s almost as though…if Noah doesn’t want me to exist, then I don’t. Everyone just seems to go along with whatever the Sacred Sons say. I mean, fuck morality, right? Fuck humanity. As long as they keep writing those checks, I guess….

Noah’s car screeches to a halt in front of us, and the valet opens the car door. Without waiting, Noah bends slightly to open the passenger-side door, and unceremoniously dumps me into the seat, then slams the door. Then he walks around to the driver’s seat, slides inside, and starts the engine, peeling out of the parking lot with a loud screech.

He’s angry. I can see it etched on his beautiful face. His jaw is set, and his movements are stiff like he’s trying to keep the rage contained.

For a second, neither of us speaks, but I can’t stand the silence, so I ask the obvious question. “Where are you taking me?”

He doesn’t say anything, and there’s just something about his cold silence that trickles down my spine and fills me with fear...

WE PULL up to Rush House, and Noah pulls into the driveway, then comes around and opens the passenger-side door. I don’t move. I just glare up at him, trying to calculate my next move. But I take a second too long because he just reaches down and hauls me out of the car.

“Ow!” I say, trying to yank my arm out of his grip. No dice. His hand is like an iron band, and there’s no way I’m strong enough to break his hold. “Let me go, Noah.”

“So you can run? I don’t think so.”

He moves to throw me over his shoulder again, but I lift my hands and take a step back. “I won’t run,” I say.

I don’t know what happened back at the club, but something about what happened with Ash triggered him, and I don’t know Noah well enough to guess why he brought me here.

Thankfully, he stands down a bit, and instead of tossing me over his shoulder again like Tarzan, he threads his fingers through mine and tugs me toward the back door. He unlocks the door with his thumbprint, then leads me through the house, up the back staircase, and down a long dark hallway.

Our footsteps echo in the silence, and at the end of the hallway, Noah pushes a set of double doors open and shoves me inside. I stumble in and glance around. There’s a light on in the corner of the room and it looks… like a bedroom. It’s huge, though. The size of my entire one-bedroom apartment growing up.

There’s a huge mahogany four-poster bed on the far end of the room, and the entire space is lined with built-in bookshelves, filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes that look like they should be in a museum somewhere, and not in some college guy’s bedroom.

I’m still taking everything in—the armchair, the guitar, the piles of laundry—when Noah closes the door and locks it. The distinct scrape of metal on wood is like a declaration: You’re trapped here.

I swallow and face him. “Why did you bring me here?”

He fucks with something on a bookshelf briefly, before turning back to face me, his face pulled into a scowl. “I told you not to speak to Ash, and what did you do?”

“I had to ask him something. About Talia , ” I say.

“You embarrassed me,” he says slowly, and damn, but the darkness in his voice is unsettling. “In front of everyone, and I can’t allow that.”

My heart is racing, and my palms suddenly feel sweaty. “I’m… sorry…?”

He continues to advance, and with every step he takes, I take one as well—just backward, retreating until my calves slam against the frame of his massive bed.

“You have nowhere to run, Harlow . It’s just you and me now, and I think it’s time I show you who is in control. ”

He’s close now, his large, muscular body at arm's length, and heat rushes through my veins. I hate this guy, but I can’t deny the way he sets my blood on fire. Fuck him, though. Honestly.

I laugh. It’s not the smartest thing to do, but I can’t help it. Anxiety snakes through me, and my brain isn’t working properly. “You might control most of the people in this town,” I say. “But you’ll never control me, Noah.” I push my head forward, so my face is dangerously close to his. “Never.”

He grabs my jaw with one large hand. For a second, I see hate in his eyes. Pure, undiluted hate, and I suck in a breath, truly afraid now.

He dips his head and whispers in my ear. “You think you’re resistance is so fucking cute.” His warm breath washes over my cheek, and a shudder of awareness rolls down my spine. “But I know you want this, Harlow . I know you want to be dominated.”

I swallow. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He nips at my ear, and the little flash of pain makes my core twitch. “I’m the only one who knows you, Harlow . The darkness you have inside you…I recognize it. I want to touch it.”

His grip tightens and with his free hand, he touches my bottom lip with his thumb, brushing lightly. “Now for your penance for this evening’s offenses,” he says. “You’re going to suck me off with this pretty little mouth of yours.”

I smile at him. “Sure, put your dick in my mouth. I dare you.”

That earns me a half smile, and frustration bubbles up inside me. I’ve amused him, which wasn’t my goal.

“Maybe I should just fuck you, then.” His voice is low and dark. “Remind you who you belong to. ”

Is this his fucked up way of giving me a choice–suck him off, or let him fuck me? Well, too bad. I’m not giving in so easily.

“Don’t touch me,” I say through gritted teeth.

The hand slides down until he’s holding me just below the jaw. He looks me dead in the eye, and all I can see in his fathomless brown eyes is hate and anger. “I know you want my cock inside you,” he says harshly. “I can see it in your eyes, in the way your body responds to me. You can’t hide those things, Harlow . You can’t pretend with me.”

I hate that he can read me so well. My body does respond to him–it has since first meeting him on that fucking beach. But I’m still not ready to admit it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. Because to admit it is to admit to being like every other girl on this damn campus. And I don’t know why, but the thought of being a basic bitch in his eyes terrifies me more than his hand gripping my face.

“You don’t know shit about shit,” I growl.

One hand still holding my jaw, he uses the other to hike my long skirt up, up, up, until it’s up around my hips. Then his fingers are inside my panties, past the curls that shield my entrance, to my damp folds.

He leans in and brushes his lips against mine. “See?” he says. “You’re soaking wet for me. All ready to take my cock like a good girl.”

My eyes flutter closed, and my head falls back, completely engulfed by the sensations rushing through my body. A moan bubbles up in my throat, but I refuse to let it escape. I can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he affects me.

I straighten and try to collect myself. “I know this might surprise you…” I’m trying so hard to keep my voice steady, but despite my best efforts, it quivers a little. Ho pefully, he doesn’t notice. “But not every girl on campus wants you.”

He laughs–a dark chuckle that trickles down my spine. “Maybe that’s true, but we both know that isn’t you.”

I grab the hand that’s clamped tight around my jaw, and shove his chest with my other hand, trying—and failing—to get him off me. “So, what, you’re just going to force me, is that it?”

One side of his mouth curls up, but I hesitate to call it a smile. His gaze rakes over my face like he’s studying me—every detail of my face. “I’ve never had to force anyone. I can have any fucking chick on this campus in under a minute. One text. One phone call. That’s all it takes.”

“So you’re bragging now?” What a fucking asshole.

“It’s not a brag,” he says evenly. “It’s a fucking fact.”

“Whatever, dude, you’re so full of yourself,” I spit back at him. Never in my life have I encountered someone so into himself. Literally never, and I’ve had some shitty boyfriend experiences, so that’s saying something.

“And by the time I’m done with you, Harlow , you’ll be begging to have my cock inside you.”

With a low, guttural growl, he shoves me, and I fall backward onto the mattress. With a glare at me, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and types out a quick text. When he’s done, he tosses the phone aside and refocuses his attention on me.

“Who did you just text?” I ask, really just trying to distract him from touching me again–because, honestly, I’m only human, and I don’t know how much more I can take before I give in completely.

He takes a step forward, and on instinct, I scootch back on the huge bed. It’s soft, filled with pillows, and smells like him. It feels like I’ve been thrown into the lion’s den–and this lion is hungry, sizing me up like a fucking lamb chop.

I glance around the room and size it up quickly. The door is on the far side of the room—I’d have to make it past him first before reaching it. But to the right is a bathroom, and I quickly roll off the bed. He reaches for me, but I’m already at the bathroom door, slamming it shut, and locking it behind me.

My head falls back against the door as I drag in a long breath. Noah bags on the door, and the thick wood vibrates against my back.

“Harlow ,” he says slowly. “You can’t hide forever.”

There is a window, but it’s tiny, and quite frankly, my thick thighs aren’t going to make it past the frame. I pull my phone out to call someone—but I quickly realize I don’t have anyone’s number, except for Talia and Skye. I type out a quick text to Skye, asking her to come rescue me from Rush House—no details, just asking her to come grab me. It’s a big ask for someone I’ve met once.

I stare down at my phone, waiting for a response from her, when I suddenly hear voices on the other side of the door—Noah’s deep baritone, and another more lilting voice.

Has Skye already gotten here? No, it’s been less than three minutes. I pause and glance at my phone again. Still no response. But maybe she was somewhere close and decided to swing by, instead of replying to me.

I hear a giggle, and something inside me snaps a little. Bolstered by the fact that I’m not alone now, I wrench the door open, and literally gasp.

There’s a blond girl, on her knees, in the middle of the room…and she has her pretty lips wrapped around Noah’s cock.

I’M FROZEN in place as my brain tries to comprehend what’s happening. My gaze is completely focused on the girl. I recognize her from the Preference Ceremony. No idea what her name is, but it doesn’t even matter. She’s on her knees, her head bobbing as she takes Noah’s cock deep into her throat. A groan draws my gaze upward to Noah’s face. His hand is resting on top of her head, setting the pace, guiding her. But his eyes are locked on me. I can’t help it, I lick my lips, and his eyes follow the motion, and I swear I see his nostrils flare. His cock is huge—thick and girthy—and my channel twitches. That could have been me, on my knees, tasting him,

drinking him in.

The girl moans, and he tightens his grip on her hair as if reminding her to be quiet. She reaches up and uses her hand to help stroke him, and his head falls back as he bucks his hips, growling.

I should take this opportunity to leave. They’re in the way of the door, but he’s pretty distracted right now, and I’d be dumb not to take advantage of that.

Forcing myself to move, I step forward. As I get closer, the smell of sex wraps around me, and I swallow. I could shove this chick aside and finish him, feeling him deep in my throat, tasting his come on my tongue.

Instead, I force myself past them, on my way to the door—but I don’t make it. His hand darts out and catches me. He pulls me against his chest roughly and slams his lips into mine. He kisses me like a man starved, his tongue pushing into my mouth, stealing my breath.

My head swims as he devours me like a fucking lunatic. There’s a darkness in him that reaches out and pulls me in. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t kiss him back while he’s getting sucked off by another girl—but I am. I can’t help myself. I can’t pull myself away.

He reaches up and cups the back of my head, holding me in place, his deep moan filling my mouth. His hips move against the chick’s mouth as he kisses me, pulling back only to nip at my bottom lip, before invading my mouth again.

A little moan escapes my mouth, and I twist my hips, because, at this point, my panties are drenched. My clit is pulsing with need, and I’m already desperate for release.

He threads his fingers through my hair, and he stills, releasing a deep groan as his hips move and he comes. After a few seconds, he pulls back slightly. “Next time, it’s you, Little Rabbit.”

I blink and see movement in my periphery as the chick gets up off her knees. I feel like I’m in a daze, and I stagger back before finding my balance. The breath is sawing from my lungs, and I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe.

I need to get out of here. Now.

Swallowing, I bolt for the door and rush down the stairs. The house is still empty, and dark, and I fly out the door, and down the front steps. I’m halfway down the block, in the dark—after promising myself I’d never walk alone at night again—when a car pulls up beside me and stops.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I pull my phone out from my jacket pocket, ready to call 911. If I’ve learned anything in the last few days, it’s that this town is fucked up. The entire place, I’m guessing, but especially this campus. And this time, I’m not fucking around. If anyone so much as looks at me weird, my ass is calling the cops.

“Harlow !” It’s a female voice, and I turn my head to see Skye. She’s driving a little blue Toyota, the passenger side window open as she grabs a

fast food bag off the passenger seat and tosses it in the back. “You okay? You said you needed a ride.”

“Oh, thank God,” I breathe, reaching for the passenger side door. “You actually came!”

“A sister in trouble? Of course, I did. We have to look out for each other,” she says, glancing between me and the road as she pulls off. “You good?” she asks again, this time with a little more concern in her voice. She glances at me again quickly. She must see the tears in my eyes, ready to fall.

I shake my head. “Yeah, yeah. I just uh….I had an encounter with Noah, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

She doesn’t even hesitate to ask, “What happened?”

I tilt my head back against the headrest. I don’t even know if I should tell her, because, honestly, I don’t even know Skye. And she’s one of those really warm people–someone you’ve just met, but still makes you feel like you’ve known them forever. It’s a superpower that I wish I had. Instead, I just end up being painfully awkward in social situations.

But fuck it. Talia is God knows where, and I don’t really have anyone else to talk to. Besides, Skye knows how this place works. Maybe she can give me some guidance when it comes to Noah and his crew of assholes.

I recount the evening, telling Skye about what happened at the club, then after, when I was tossed into Noah’s car, and dragged up to his room

—where he eventually called another chick and had her suck him off in front of me.

“Wow, that’s totally fucked,” she says.

We’ve pulled up in front of my residence hall, but we’re just sitting in the car, talking. “He’s so fucking depraved.” I shake my head. “Why do people follow him like a fucking god?”

“I mean, his family—”

I don’t even let her finish that sentence, “Yeah, yeah, his family is rich, and owns this whole town, yadda, yadda. So he just gets to do whatever the hell he wants? No questions asked?”

Skye blows out a breath and leans back. “Yeah, pretty much. I mean, things weren’t as bleak last year, but something happened with Noah’s half-brother, and I think it really fucked with the Sacred Sons. They were all pretty close. But it especially fucked with Noah, as I’m sure you can imagine. Things got really intense after that.”

Noah has a half-brother? He’s never mentioned any siblings—though, to be fair, we haven’t really talked about our personal lives. Still, if whatever happened fucked Noah up so much, then I would have thought it would have come up at some point.

“I didn’t even know he had a brother,” I say .

“Yeah, he’s older by a couple of years, and they have different dads,” she offers.

I blink, my mind whirring with the possibilities of what could have affected Noah so drastically. “What happened? Did the brother die or something?”

Skye looks away and shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t really know. There’s a rumor that he was accused of something he didn’t do, and it really messed up the family.”

I can tell she knows more than what she’s telling me, but I don’t push her. I’d rather hear it from Noah, anyway, because who knows what fantastical story the rumor mill has spun.

I push out a breath, my mind straying to that moment when I walked out of the bathroom to see some random chick sucking Noah’s cock. “There’s something sick about Noah Sabastian ,” I say. “His need for control is pathological.”

“Can you really blame him?” Skye asks. “His family–” she stops herself like she’s rethinking her words, then she continues, “You already know the power they have around here. Growing up like that must have been a trip. Getting everything you want, whenever you want, no questions asked.”

“Yeah, well, he can’t have me,” I say. “I’m not for fucking sale.”

Skye laughs. “Everyone has a price, Harlow . Even you, I’m betting. No shame in that.”

I scoff at her. “Whose side are you on?”

She smiles at me, her blue eyes bright in the darkness. “I’m on your side, of course. Noah and his friends are fucking assholes, and they deserve a healthy dose of Karma. But I’m also a realist, and I’ve seen people kowtow them over the years. People who swore they’d hold the Burning Crown accountable.” She shrugs. “So, I don’t know, I guess I’m jaded.”

“I don’t want to hold them accountable. I just want out of their sphere. It feels like I’m stuck in a riptide. No matter how hard I swim against the current, I’m sucked right back in.”

“Yeah, they have that effect on people.”

I glance down at my hands. “So what do I do?”

Skye presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Yeah, I don’t know.

Noah Sabastian is a force of nature.” I swallow. “Yeah.”

She must feel bad for me because her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Go upstairs, get some sleep, and we can figure something out tomorrow. You don’t have to have all the answers tonight.”

I return her smile, but I’m suddenly so tired. Maybe it’s the alcohol finally hitting me. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you for dropping whatever it was you were doing to come get me.”

“No worries,” she says. “I was out grabbing food anyway.”

We say our goodbyes, and I quickly make my way inside, opting to take the stairs, instead of waiting for the elevator. I stop by Talia 's room on the way to my room, which has been my routine lately.

Halfway down the hall, I can see Talia 's door open, and her roommate standing outside in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, as she talks to campus security.

My heart crawls up into my throat as I approach. “What’s going on?” I just pray, that whatever it is, it doesn’t involve Talia .

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