#do you feel like a young god? you know the two of us are just young gods. [ rel. eleventh doctor & yennefer of vengerberg ]

[chocoqtelle]

inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

[willowed-wisp]

sweethearts [ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish ]

johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!reader

You had known him forever. Since nursery school and all the time in between.

John MacTavish- though, you called him Johnny. And in later life, that turned into calling him ‘Soap’.

He had been gunning for that uniform since you were 15 and he was 16… falsifying his age only to fail miserably.

It was culture shock to when he left when he was 18… he was your first friend, first kiss, first young love. Yet, it was nothing official. Just two best friends experimenting with each other. You couldn’t have asked for a better person.

You were there when he came back- more of a man than the boy who left. All of him larger than before even that indicative smile. But HE hadn’t changed, still the same snack eating, football loving Scotsman.

That meant your attraction for him was worse than ever- having been in love with Johnny for most of your life. His sky bursted gaze enough to drive you crazy.

Someone like him would never feel the same about you- strictly friends.

Mates who got mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend most days of the week. Neither of you minded it but it was always you who persisted the, ‘as if… he drives me insane…’ the pining kind of insanity.

His return led you to distance yourself, an insecure freshly turned 18 year old, distracting herself from the boy next door. Johnny could do much better for friends than you, he was the youngest SAS recruit to pass the selection.

HE COULD DO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU.

You didn’t even go say goodbye to him when he left for his first mission- somewhere you’d never know.

Instead, he came to you. Stood at your doorstep.

His face gloomy, “So you weren’ even gonna say goodbye?” Not knowing what to do, your shoulders shrugged and silence ensued. “You’ve been off for weeks, when was the last time we had a movie night? Is it because of the training? Me leavin’?”

Fingers picking at your nails; you’d never been nervous around him. But this was the first time seeing him in god-knows how long, when you hadn’t spent a day away from each other. “I don’t know, John- ,”

“You do know and that’s the problem, Y/N, because you won’t bloody tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he spoke harsher than intended, regretting it within an instant as your stepped forward- sizing the six foot something soldier up.

Staring up at him, “Why do you bother with me when you could have anybody around you? I’m not going anywhere with my life!” It wasn’t envy that spurred you on, it was the fact he was going to leave you.

Heartbroken and yearning. Lost without the boy who had always bolstered you up when you had been thrown to the ground.

Johnny’s eyes welled with tears, “What’s made you think that?”

In a whisper, “You’ve just gotten into the fucking SAS, Johnny…”

“So what? I’m still the same guy… nothing’s ever gonna change me… you should know that by now…”

You wanted things to change- the dynamics between you. Before he found somebody who would knock him off his feet and you’d never get the chance.

His fingers trailed your arm, before he cupped your hand. Blue coveted your vision, “Nothing’s goin’ to change us, you’re my absolute best mate…”

Like a dagger, he struck a nerve, “Maybe I don’t want to be your ‘best mate’, I’m sick of pining for you when clearly you’ll never feel the same way,” a quick pause, “Go and find a pretty gir- ,” Before you knew it, his kiss smothered you. More intimate than when you were twelve, with more intent.

Instead of resisting, you caved in. Hands balanced holding his jawline, clean shaven.

Exploring every inch of your body in that hurried kiss. It was better than anything you had dreamed.

Before you pulled away first, “You’re my everything, Y/N…” Thumbs rubbing circles at your waist. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve wanted to do tha’…”

The memory ran writhe in your brain. That was 8 years ago…

Since then you were happily married with a baby on the way. Johnny had been deployed for over a month. Today he was supposed to be returning- from where you didn’t have a clue but he always came home safely.

That’s what mattered.

You expected the phone to start buzzing, the usual unknown number saying to go to the airport. Instead, a knock at the door.

It was like him not to want to run you around pregnant. But it was Simon who answered the door.

Not able to help the tremble. Air caught in your throat, choking on nothing. “He’s not… is he?” Stopping those tears from coming down- clutching your belly.

You’d have fallen to your knees- had it not been for capable hands.

You looked up, blue eyes for days and a face contorted worriedly, “What did you say, to ‘er, LT?” He held you close, but it would never be enough for you. “You and munchkin okay?” He rubbed your large stomach.

You crushed him in your arms. “Darlin’, I’m a bit tender…” Only then did you notice the sling in his arm, a bandage skirting beneath his shirt.

“What happened?” He shook his head, a grin on his face.

One of nervousness, “It could have been a lot worse,” Simon was as gruff as usual. You would never be allowed to know what happened.

“I’m just glad you’re safe and sound,” Thumb rubbing along longer stubble on his cheek, there was more to the story than either him or Simon were telling you. “You too, Si, thanks for taking care of him.” Spoken wholeheartedly, “Dinners on, you can stay if you want?”

He accepted as he usually did. The mood held less tension as time went on. You came to the conclusion that you were lucky to have Johnny in front of you, laughing at some stupid dad joke Simon said.

All you did was sit there, looking at the guy you had loved all your life.

Your Johnny…

————

I contemplated 💀 Johnny but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’s just too sweet and just too tragic to write.

Thank you for reading :) xx

————

masterlist

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[fairiesthrum]

Can I be 🧚‍♀️ anon if it's not taken pls!! And ok... what are your thoughts on cult leader Geto? 🫣🫣

🎀 — OFC U CAN BE FAIRY ANON AHAKSJAUSJ

and abt cult leader geto hmmmm (incoming yap session y’all)

ngl, i expect his wife to absolutely HATE his guts. like i’m talking melania trump core (i made a small post abt this before).

i can just imagine some young woman from a powerful clan being forced to marry some weirdo obsessed with monkeys (cuz yes, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking abt when he said monkeys and thought he was insane in the beginning. well... you still think he’s crazy).

i would describe suguru’s wife to be the “nonchalant” kind, very elegant, just cares abt that bag and living a good life. you have no interest in sexual relations with him at first (though he was super hot and that’s what pushed you to agree to the marriage in the first place), and neither does he (the both of you actually sleep in separate rooms). suguru only married you to gain support and followers. so all you had to do was make appearances beside him, sit pretty, act like everything was fine, and spend the rest of your life not having to lift a finger whilst gawking at your husband’s dashing looks. easy enough, right?

wrong. you actually end up learning he’s a cult leader through these strange meetings (yeah, your parents totally forgot to fill you in abt that part).

it sets you off (like fr mom and dad? a cult leader??) and you become irritated with him and everything he does more and more as the days pass. you start acting like an entirely different person, smacking his hand away when he tries to hold it in public, opting to clutch onto your designer purse instead. and geto just stands there with a close-eyed smile, laughing it off.

you couldn’t even stand to look at him. you married a psycho obsessed with killing non-sorcerers. but what could you do? your parents practically sold you to him! so the smartest thing you could think of in terms of fighting back was to not listen to a word he says. and it gets really awkward for the people around you both when you’re constantly acting like a bitch and geto sits there with a tight smile, everyone else in the room sharing concerned and nervous glances.

nowadays, all you ever really did was grovel abt your terrible life while wearing your designer clothes and wiping your tears with the designer handkerchief that you pull out of your designer handbag #richpplproblems

but suguru brushes off your behavior all the time, assuming you were having trouble adjusting even though it’s been two months and you used to act pretty normal in the beginning of your marriage. maybe it was a lot to process? so, he doesn’t do anything abt your attitude… until you really embarrass him.

it ends up with him dragging you into his bedroom, away from prying eyes, seething and red-faced. it was completely unlike your usually calm and collected husband, and it made you smug that you finally got a reaction out of him. and it pacified something inside of you, a part that was desperate for revenge due to being stuck in this god awful marriage.

geto, being the ever so observant person he was notices the change in your eyes, resulting in a back and forth between you two consisting of yelling and screaming. until, he finally slams his lips onto yours, shutting you up.

clothes are ripped off and then the next thing you know, both of you are fucking on your marriage bed for the first time, gasping out between moans abt how much you can’t stand each other.

the rest of that night was spent hate-fucking, then acting normal and back to snide remarks the next day. until it happens again… and again… and again.

only because both of you are scared to admit you enjoy the steamy sex and the fact you’ve started having feelings for each other since you’re both stubborn. so, the two of you just find an excuse to fuck all the time by getting on each other’s nerves.

anyways, that’s my take on cult leader geto ₓₓ

[lillaydee]

Delusions

Joel Miller (AU) / Reader (Narration by Unhinged, Delusional OFC)

When jealousy makes one see you through distorted, circus-mirrored glasses.

Word Count: 13,293

WARNINGS:Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Joel is in love, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Sexual Assault (On a Male Character), Drink Spiking, Delusions, Completely Unhinged (But Dumb as a Doornail) OFC, Descriptions of Bloody Attack, Mental Illness.

***

Nell had never understood the appeal of you. What did you have that she didn’t? She was so much prettier than you. Everyone said so. You didn’t even wear make up for God’s sake, and you bought clothes at discount shops. And yet people seemed drawn to you.

She loved you. She really did. You were her best friend. You had been since infancy. Your mom worked for her family. She was their housemaid. Your mom and her mom, Susan, got pregnant at around the same time. Your father was a long-haul truck driver, so he wasn’t home as often, and when she was born, her family hired a live-in nanny to help with her. Your mom had been looking for day care options for you when Susan suggested she just bring you over and the nanny could look after you both when she worked.

Her family loved you. They doted on you. When the time came for you to go to school, they offered to pay for you to get private education, same as her, so that way, the two of you wouldn’t be separated. You mom politely declined; your parents didn’t want you to be spoiled like that. They wanted you to grow up knowing where you came from, to understand the value of hard work and money. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that your family had no money. So, the two of you were separated during the school terms but spent a lot of time together during the holidays, when your mom would bring you to work with her.

You two remained close. Best friends. But Nell couldn’t help but notice that you had more friends than she did. Even her own friends from her private school ended up being more your friends than hers, and yet, your friends didn’t seem to like her so much. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that they were simple, mind-numbingly boring people. You kept getting invites to birthday parties and sleepovers, when she could only get parties and sleepovers at her place, and that too, normally ended up with her friends crowding around you, spending time and talking with you than her. They all invited you to their parties and sleepovers, but not her. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that their houses were not as well equipped as hers. She was just pointing out facts.

When the two of you turned sixteen, her parents got her a Mercedes. They wanted to get you one too, but you declined. Instead, you used your own money to buy a second-hand Mini Cooper that made so many creaks and groans when driven, you called it Creaky. Her parents reimbursed you for the money as a present instead.

Despite her having the nice car, you still had more friends cramped in your Creaky than she ever had in her Mercedes. Creaky was always full. She saw you and your friends (most of which were her friends before they were yours) laughing as it puttered along, filled tighter than a sardine can, driving down the street, off somewhere where she wasn’t invited, again. It wasn’t Nell’s fault that she had so many demands for her passengers. Did you know how much it cost to detail a car?

You made time for her, though. She would tell you her problems, and you would console her, gave her advice, and made her feel better. She really loved you. She didn’t know what she would do without you in her life.

She made it to an Ivy League university, her parents being large donors to a couple of them. You received a partial scholarship to the same university, and her parents offered to pay for the rest of your college fees, but you declined. You didn’t even want to go. You opted for the local community college, wanting to live at home and be close to your parents.

Nell, being the beautiful young woman that she was, had no problems getting the young men to fall for her. But for some reason, the young men never stuck. They would sleep with her, and more often than not, ghosted her. The few that stuck around seemed more interested in having her take them to fancy restaurants and buy them things than commit to her. And these guys didn’t like that she was sleeping with more than one guy, surprisingly. They often left her. Not her fault that she was so beautiful she needed to have more than one guy. She was just being fair.

You, on the other hand, were more reserved, and preferred to stay home and not party. You had one boyfriend throughout high school. But when his family moved across the country, the two of you broke up. And by the time you were in college, you were so content with focusing on your studies you didn’t get involved with anyone.

Every time Nell introduced you to one of her guys, they would end up asking about you often. Even when she was out clubbing, the guys she flirted with would recognize her from being your friend, and asked if they could get your number. Nell didn’t understand. You wouldn’t even sleep with anyone unless you were in love with them. And you didn’t have money. Your dates consisted of movies and tacos at the truck. And yet, all these guys were clamouring for you. You didn’t even wear sexy clothes. You stuck to your ponytail and jeans and shirts. You didn’t even get your boobs done. You didn’t even get lip injections. She couldn’t fathom it. What was your appeal?

But it’s okay. She was the one who was out there. She was the one who were getting dates every night. Not you. So, that’s something, right? But even with all the men she had slept with, there was one man she wanted so badly, but could never seem to get.

Joel Miller.

He was hot. So hot. Him and his brother Tommy did construction. They worked for their father. Nell had heard rumours about Joel. She could see it, in fact. The guys he used to share a locker room with were talking about it openly. They called him Hung Miller to distinguish between him and his brother. His ex-girlfriend was too shy and ladylike to talk about it. Nell set her eyes on him, going after him every chance she got. But he never gave her the time of day. She sampled Tommy once at the bar. He was big. But apparently Joel was bigger. And she wanted to sample Joel - badly. But he didn’t talk much. Never went to the bars as much as Tommy did. And when she tried to talk him up, he always made excuses and left.

Nell gave up in the end. She went to college and found herself a Law major who had money just like her, Tony. He got her. They have the same background. So, she decided, for now, she would stick with Tony. They went steady, and for once in her life, Nell found herself falling in love, and didn’t cheat on him at all.

When she told you about Tony, you were really excited for her. Finally, you had said, someone tamed Wild Nellie. She had giggled with you over FaceTime about it. She couldn’t wait for you to meet him, she said. How she wished you would find someone too. She wanted you to be happy. Like her. You replied with your standard you’re too busy with school to date. Nell rolled her eyes – you could graduate with your eyes closed. You were so smart.

When she finally introduced Tony to you, the two of you got along swimmingly. Nell was so happy. She was so in love with him. Tony would join the two of your when you FaceTime each other and made joking remarks at you. You only met him once, but you could tell he was a good guy. You were happy your friend found someone like him. Maybe her wild days are over.  

Susan got sick that year. She was in a car accident and suffered a stroke during recovery. Nell was too busy in college to go home and help, so you did. You came by every day to help Susan out, even though her husband had hired help to help her with her recovery. You read to her, did crochets with her to help her hands get their dexterity back, swam with her, cooked with her, and called Nell every day so she could say hi to Susan. It wasn’t Nell’s fault you always called when she was busy doing college things.

When Tony found out about her mother, he wanted to visit, but she didn’t want to. She was having fun where she was. There were people around to take care of her mother. She wasn’t needed. And Tony made a remark where she should be more like you. Caring, kind, considerate, empathetic. That stung her. It was clear to her that even he thought you were better than her. Just like her parents, her friends, her exes. But she loved him, so she let it go.   

When she went home for the summer, she discovered that her parents had hired someone to make their house more wheelchair friendly. Not just anyone, in fact, but the Miller brothers. She took this opportunity to try her luck with Joel again, just to feed her ego. But again, he rebuffed her. Seemingly uninterested in her at all. Which couldn’t be possible. Had he seen her? She was hot. How could he not want her? She divided her time spent during that summer trying to get his attention and watching you take care of her mother. She would wear the skimpiest bikini and lounged around the house in them, and Joel didn’t even look her way. She rubbed herself on him all the time, accidentally, of course, and he just moved out of the way. At one point, she even accidentally on purpose dropped her towel on him while he was working on the bathroom ramp, revealing her perfect, naked body. Still, he didn’t bat an eye at her.

And then one day she saw him looking at you longingly. You were crocheting with her mother, telling her a story, laughing merrily. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. She started noticing Joel would find reasons to work within your vicinity and tried to talk to you. Whenever you talked to him back, Joel would stand all awkwardly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly, looking flustered that you would give him the time of day.

And finally, on the last day of construction, just before he left, she saw him kiss you.

Nell slept with Tommy that night, just to get her frustrations out of the way. She told him how she couldn’t understand why Joel would choose you, and not her. Tommy told her that Joel had always had a thing for you. Since high school. But you and him both were in relationships, so he didn’t do anything about it.

Again, Nell didn’t get it. Why you?

That night, the night before she went back to college, she and Tommy fell asleep in her bed. Tony FaceTimed her, and she absentmindedly picked up. He saw that she was naked in bed with someone. And broke up with her on the spot.

Nell was broken hearted. She flew back the next day and begged him to give her another chance. He ignored her. She blamed you kissing Joel for her indiscretion. She obviously wouldn’t have slept with Tommy if she hadn’t seen you do that.

She went through the rest of her college years sleeping around and drinking her troubles away, especially since you told her you and Joel were officially dating now. You were so happy with him. She drank and slept around some more to cope with that. She failed her final year, having partied too much. It’s your fault, of course. Why couldn’t you just keep your happiness with the one man she wanted to yourself? Just before she left, she said goodbye to Tony. He had moved on, another Law major, who looked just about as boring as you were. He traded down, she thought. He politely said goodbye to her and told her he’s glad her mother was doing better. She wondered how he knew – and he told her he had called you from time to time to ask about Susan.

Oh.

When Nell got back in town, she received such a scolding and lecture from her father she couldn’t think straight. She drove to your house to vent, only to be told that you had moved out. She went to the new address and Joel answered the door.

You had moved in with Joel Miller, just last week. And the night before, he had asked you to marry him, and you had said yes, you told her excitedly.

You were sharing good news with her. But all Nell saw was red.

Why you? Why not her? What was so special about you that everyone, her own parents included, preferred you? Why did you get to be happy? Why not her?

Nell hugged you upon hearing the news. She looked at Joel, faux happiness on her face. He looked good. Mouth wateringly good.  

She decided right there and then.

You had taken everyone from her.

She was going to take Joel Miller from you if it was the last thing she did.

***

Nell could see the challenges that she was going to face. Joel didn’t want to be alone with her at all. He went into the kitchen with you when you went to get drinks. When you went to the next room to answer a phone call, he went with you. You went to the bathroom; he went outside for a smoke – he must have some hideaway because Nell tried to follow but he was nowhere to be seen. When you decided to cook lunch, he helped you, never leaving your side. And you didn’t do the classic ‘no you should stay with Nell, entertain her’ thing her mother did to her father either.

God, what a clingy couple.

It didn’t help that Joel couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you either. A hand on your back, on your thigh, around your shoulder, and you were equally bad – letting him do that with her right there. How shameless.

She needed a game plan.

So, she tried the simplest thing first. Could she perhaps stay the night? She didn’t want to go home and face her father just yet. You looked at Joel, and he shrugged, telling you it was up to you. She’s your friend.

Oh, so now he’s not even friends with her?

After dinner, you put on a movie. You gave her your sleep sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in. You cuddled up to Joel to watch the movie, Nell on his other side. She surreptitiously made her way closer to him as the movie progressed, but just as she was about to get near enough to feel the beginnings of his body heat, he got up and went to the kitchen for a drink. When he came back, he sat on your other side, putting her plan to accidentally fall asleep on him to bed.

When you started to fall asleep, Joel lifted you up and brought you into the bedroom. Nell’s heart jumped. Finally. A chance to be alone. But Joel placed you on the bed, came back and shut the door. Not even a good night her way.

She woke up early the next morning to sounds of soft moans and grunts from your bedroom. She could hear him shushing you, his low sexy voice talking to you, but she couldn’t hear what he said exactly. Who would have sex when a guest was in the next room? She knew you. You didn’t even like sex that much. You’d only slept with what, three men? You were a prude. Inexperienced. Unlike her. You would never have sex with her in the next room. It was all so out of character for you. And you could never satisfy him in bed the way she could. There was no way Joel would want you like this, though. Nell didn’t get it. Why would he find you desirable and not her? I mean, you never got your hair done. You used the 2-in-1 shampoo for God’s sake. And your nails? You clipped them down, never even got a manicure. You didn’t even bother to look good. And here she was, someone who had spent so much money to look the way she did, and he wanted you?

Seriously. It boggles the mind. The good news was, Joel Miller was just a man. So, with your lack of interest in beauty care, surely he will see what he was missing if it was shoved in his face enough, right?

So when you came out looking freshly fucked, wearing only a shirt she assumed was his, she made sure to pretend she was still asleep. When she joined you in the kitchen, she was only wearing the shirt you loaned her. Let him have a peek at what he would be enjoying soon. But it seemed like Joel didn’t even notice her. He acted as if you were the only other person in the room. She needed more time, and more tactics. Show him what she could offer that you couldn’t.

She announced that she wanted to celebrate the happy couple. Dinner tonight? At the most expensive restaurant in town. Please? You told her that you and Joel were not that kind of people. The two of you prefer to keep it simple. Nell waved her hands off at you, telling you that a special celebration was in order. Come on, please?

You finally said okay.

So, at dinner that night, Nell flexed her flirting skills with Joel. She ordered the most expensive everything. Champagne, caviar, courses and courses of the most decadent and pricey stuff she knew you could never afford to lavish him with. She bought the two of you presents, a diamond bracelet for you, and a Rolex for Joel. She needed him to understand how serious she was about wanting him, how she could give you more than you could ever imagine. He didn’t really react to the watch the way she expected him to. Just looked at it, closed the box and pushed it towards you. And you, as always, declined the gifts, saying that she didn’t have to do this. Nell insisted, saying that you would never buy stuff like this anyway, so she would do it for you. She wore the two of you down and received a quiet thank you with a polite smile from both of you.

She had planted her first seed. You could never afford to buy him gifts like this.

When the meals arrived, Joel, again, was not reacting the way she wanted him to. He only talked to you in low voices, as if Nell wasn’t even there, unenthusiastically eating the food without any comments. And you, as usual, just looked uncomfortable with all the food and the many cutleries on the table. The two of you didn’t even finish your caviar. She tried to get the two of you to talk about the wedding, but you said it was too early to plan. And a lightbulb turned on in her head.

She will pay for the wedding. She will plan it! It’s genius. She will have access to Joel, and you will be none the wiser!

She held your hand, eyes brimming with fake happy tears, telling you that you deserve everything good, that you had always made her happy, and to let her do this for you. But again, you said no. It’s alright Nellie, we will take care of everything ourselves. No need to go out of your way for us. You patted her hand with yours, and that was when Nell saw your engagement ring for the first time. She had assumed he didn’t get you one, but apparently he did.

It was nothing to shout about. The diamond was small. It didn’t even look new. You told her that it was his mother’s ring. Nell cringed internally at that – what a cheapskate. He didn’t even buy her a new ring?

Something swelled in her heart. A realisation.

He didn’t really love you. He would spend money on a new one if he did. And he didn’t bother. Instead, he slapped on his late mother’s ratty, cheap old ring on you.

So, she made a comment on what a great idea that was, saved so much money, huh Joel? You smiled politely and told her that it was the thought that counted, his mother’s ring held a high value in your eyes, that he thought you special enough to give you something that was hers – the woman who gave birth to him, someone he loved very much.

Sure, Nell thought, whatever.

But she was convinced she had planted the second seed. He wasn’t willing to spend money on you. Surely that would plant some doubt in your head.

When leaving the restaurant, Nell asked if the two of you would like to go to a bar, but the two of you declined. She asked where you were going, maybe she could join you? But Joel quickly answered that the two of you wanted to spend the rest of the night alone. Again, very politely. She was starting to lose her patience. What’s with all the politeness? And couldn’t he just let go of your hand? Shove the fact that he wanted you and not her in her face, Joel Miller. Stupid man. Blind man.

But such a sexy man. A sexy man she wanted to try. She needed to. He was the only man who had ever rejected her. And he was brought down to his knees by you. You. Of all people. The one who only had nice things out of her parents generosity, the one who wore her handouts. The one who wore a brandless pump and home-sewn summer dress to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

She needed him to see that he was settling with you. She could tell that deep down, he was not that into you. How could he be? When he wouldn’t even spend money on you when it came to what was supposed to be the symbol of his love. He could have so much more with her. Even looking at him now, in his generic brand dress shirt and jeans, she could tell that you never bothered to shower him with gifts. What respectable woman would let a man as fine as Joel Miller wear generic brands? God, you were so stupid.

As she was driving out, she saw you pressed up against the door of his truck, him kissing you passionately. She wanted him to do that with her. God! It’s so infuriating! She drove around aimlessly for a while, before deciding to head to a club. And she saw the two of you again. At your favourite Taco Truck, shoving tacos into your mouths and laughing with each other, Joel looking so happy and content she wanted to scream. She spent thousands for dinner, and didn’t get so much as a smile from him – both of you looking so uncomfortable and out of place in the restaurant, and now you’re eating tacos and elated about it? Ugh!

Maybe he’s too much of a low life for her. Who preferred cheap dollar tacos to caviar? Maybe she should give up this quest to fuck Hung Miller and let the low-class man marry the low-class you.

But no. You had always taken everything that was hers. She was going to take what was yours. For once. See if you liked it. You should know what it felt like to have people that was yours taken away from you, and how much it hurt to see them happier with her than with you.

The next day, Nell went shopping. She spared no expense, buying Joel all the branded clothes she could get her hands on. She stopped by your place and saw that Joel’s truck was there, but your Creaky was not. She almost jumped with joy when she went knocking. Joel opened the door, but the smile on his face turned off when he realized it was her. He straight up told her that you were not home. Nell tried very hard not to take his obvious lack of enthusiasm to see her to heart, but she was starting to feel like he didn’t want to see her, which was impossible, of course.

She told him that she had presents for him. Without opening the door further he asked her why? She tried to push the door open, but he wouldn’t let her. So, she pressed up to the door as close as she could and told him a fine man such as himself deserve better than generic brands. He was engaged to her best friend now, and this was her way to try and be his friend. He told her there was absolutely no reason she should be his friend too. They didn’t even know each other. She told him they could get to know each other, her eyes basically fucking him up and down. He was about to tell her to come back when you were home when Creaky’s classic sounds came around the corner.

Nell took a disappointed step back, and Joel rushed out to greet you. She saw him talk to you quietly for a bit, and you asked her what she was doing there. She showed you the bags she had with her, presents for Joel, she said. You smiled politely and told her she didn’t have to do all that. She waved it off and said anything for her best friend’s new fiancé. When she drove off, she noticed that the bags were still outside, you and Joel discussing something, you obviously not looking too happy. She smiled smugly to herself. She would’ve gone mental if she had found a beautiful, rich woman such as herself at her door with such a handsome fiancé, and had gone shopping for him, at that.

She had planted another seed. You must have been jealous to find her there with all those expensive clothes for him. All she had to do was keep planting them. And her efforts will grow and be fruitful.

That night, she went clubbing again. Her parents had been at her ears all day about getting a job. She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t like she needed the money. So, she danced the night away, looking for someone to be a distraction for the night, until she could get her hands on Joel Miller. But no one was biting. In fact, men avoided her like the plague. She couldn’t understand it. And then, from afar, she saw Tommy. Perfect.

As she got nearer, she noticed something. He was wearing the clothes she had bought for Joel. And his Rolex. The very same one she had bought for Joel. She commented on them, and he just told her that Joel gave them to him, Joel was never comfortable with expensive stuff.

What? Of all the nerve!

He pulled her outside. She tried to kiss him, but he kept her at arm’s length. Told her that she had to stop. Stop what? Tommy knew she was after Joel. Not only had she openly complained about Joel choosing you instead of her to him at the beginning, but she had also openly tried to get his attention from the start. Everyone knew she was after Joel. Everyone could see, even you, Tommy said. She made it so obvious when they were working at her house. And now, she was making it even more so damn obvious. She had done to Joel what she had always done to the men she was after, which was throw money at them. Joel will never fall for that. He had never been impressed by money. He told her that Joel was in love with you. He wanted you, and not her. Please leave him alone. He’s marrying you. He’s happy.

He hasn’t married you yet, she told him, and left.

Her frustrations were burdensome that night. She didn’t get to bring anyone home; no one wanted to entertain her. She got rejected by Tommy, of all people. Joel had rejected her gifts to him. Tommy had the audacity to suggest that Joel would never want her.

And she also found out you knew. You knew all along she had her sights on Joel back then, and still you went after him. Seduced him. Dated him. Moved in with him. Agreed to marry him. And now, she realized, it must have been you that morning she spent the night at your place - you had the gall to initiate sex with him, knowing she was right in the next room. Show off much? She knew there was no way he could initiate sex with someone like you. She just knew it.

She could not let you get away with this. She could not let you marry Joel and trap him like this. You didn’t love him, you just wanted him because she had her sights on him first. Just like you wanted her friends. And her parents. And Tony. Why else would they all prefer you to her. The only explanation was that you had manipulated them somehow, just like you were doing to Joel. She had to put a stop to this before it’s too late.

She needed to talk to you. She needed to pretend she was still on your side, she had to befriend Joel somehow and warn him. She knew if she could just get him to see her properly, he would fall for her and leave you. She spent the next week trying to reach you. You were not at home. Neither was Joel. Her calls went unanswered, and messages unsent, but you hadn’t blocked her.

Where were you?

Finally after 10 days you returned her calls. You were on your honeymoon and didn’t have cell service.

What?

You and Joel eloped.

Joel was married.

To you, of all people.

And you didn’t even have the courtesy to invite her.

Obviously her usual tactics were not working.

As she hugged you with a fake congratulations, she made a new vow.

She needed to up her game.

***

WARNING: Light descriptions of Sexual Assault (On a Male Character)

Implied Drink Spiking

Some possibly inaccurate description of being drugged

Some descriptions of smut via voyeurism

You had a small gathering at a restaurant in town for your wedding and invited everyone. Everyone was so happy for you and Joel. You two had asked that in lieu of presents; everyone should donate something to the local children’s hospital where you worked. Nell had scoffed at this news. Just your MO. Saint Aria. You just had to be the one to do good. But she had to remember her end goal. She had to save Joel from you. So she smiled and clapped, along with everyone else, who had collectively decided to not engage her for long.

Every time she caught Joel alone and tried to engage him, someone conveniently needed him elsewhere, and he willingly followed. God. This guy was like a cow on a leash. No wonder it was so easy for you to trap him.

She tried to blend in, tried to catch up with the girls, as they say. But none of them wanted to linger with her. And none introduced their significant others to her. She tried to not let the fact that she was never invited to any of their weddings bother her, but it did. You were invited. You were bridesmaid, or maid of honour to quite a few of them. And she was cast out. She should’ve gotten used to it, all her friends gravitate towards you after she introduced you to them, but it still hurt. And now you had pulled the ultimate betrayal. Stealing Joel Miller from right under her. But patience, Nell. Patience. She had to play it cool, so that ultimately, people will see you for who you really were.

Her parents gave you a cheque for the hospital, and then another, just for the bride and groom. Despite the usual push and pull, they were insistent that you two accepted it, to start your life with, please, they said. Her father hugged Joel, asking him to take care of you, telling him that you were family, and now, so was he. He even danced with you after you had your father-daughter dance with your dad, your dad proudly declaring him your second father. You and Joel shared a dance, Joel holding you close, kissing you sweetly throughout.  

Mr Miller got all choked up during his speech, talking about how much he and his wife loved you, and how his late first wife would have loved you, and that no one deserved that engagement ring of hers more than you. And if you already had two father figures, he would gladly accept being the third, and that he already loved you as the daughter he never had.

Susan talked about what a sweet one you were. Ever since you were a baby. Always giving in to Nell, never wanting a fight, never in a strop – the gentlest person, the best person they all knew, a fact which was greeted with a lot of cheers and murmured agreements from everyone. Your friends gushed about you. Joel’s friends and Tommy talked about how dreamy he got when he was crushing hard on you. How happy they all were that both of you had found each other. How perfect you were for each other.

After hearing the speeches, Nell couldn’t stand it anymore. She went outside under the guise of a smoke. Tommy was there, already halfway through his own cigarette. She complained out loud about you. Why did everyone love you so much? She had the advantage on you in every way that counted. She was better than you. Much better looking, so much richer, so much more experienced in bed, as he could testify, she’s sure. She could offer everyone more than you could. And yet people were gagging for your attention and left her out like the leper. People were so stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tommy exhaled his last puff after listening to her rants, telling her that maybe she should grow up, join the real world, look at herself and think about what really mattered to people when it came to choosing friends, found family and loved ones. And then he walked back inside, leaving her there, still stewing.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What else mattered? Stupid man. He was just bitter she was lusting after his brother instead of him. Never mind. What could she expect from a low-class man-whore like Tommy Miller?

About a week after the reception, she decided to get back into action. She had contacted a man she knew who could get her things for the right price. She went over to your place, under the guise of bringing you a wedding present, waving your concerns away with her hand as usual. Joel had gone out running, and you were mixing something in a blender, making him a protein shake for when he came back. When Joel got home, Nell excused herself.

She watched your household for several weekends, learning your routines, your ins and outs, your movements. She was discrete, making sure you couldn’t see her. She needed to be careful. She had kept up the façade of staying away from the two of you, but staying friendly and calling you as she normally did. She couldn’t afford to have you suspicious.

One Saturday, your house was a little too quiet – Joel didn’t go running that morning. She got curious and went closer to see what was going on, prepared to pretend like she had just dropped by to give you something if need be. She went snooping at the windows, and finally, when she got to the kitchen windows, she saw what was delaying his run.

You were bent over behind the kitchen island, your shirt lifted up, Joel bent over you, his sweatpants lowered to his knees, his hands on your breasts, fucking you with such fervour you were reduced to a moaning mess. He was holding you close to him, his head next to yours, telling you that you made him feel so good, that he couldn’t get enough of you, that you were the sexiest woman in the world to him, that he needed you so much, loved you so much, that he wanted to put his baby in you, his hand snaking in between your legs and you shuddered and shook so wildly, screaming his name, as he made you cum. She watched as he finished inside you, collapsing on you, before pulling you to the floor where she could no longer see you both, but she could hear you two laughing and giggling and kissing, legs entangled on the kitchen floor.

Nell couldn’t believe her eyes. How could you do that to her? How could he? She was the one who had always made the effort to get him, and there he was, fucking your brains out. Just you wait, Joel Miller, she thought, as she made her way back to her car, her heart thumping with resolve.

The next day, she waited until Joel had gone out running. She had to be precise, she had timed everything. About five minutes before he was due back, she ran to your door, screaming your name, telling you that your mom had been in an accident, but no one could reach you. You immediately panicked, grabbed your purse and left, leaving the key under the pot for Joel. He never took his keys with him when he went running. She told you she would meet you at the hospital, and pretended to get into her car, as you peeled off the drive.

She went inside with the key you left, set things up, and waited on the couch.

Joel came back shortly, walking in through the slightly opened door, calling your name, placing his phone on the mantel. He froze when he saw her, before asking her where you were. She told him you had to run out to the store really quickly, you should be back any minute. He nodded, and seeing she was just sitting there scrolling through her phone, went into the kitchen. He took the shake you had prepared and drank it thirstily in several gulps. She heard his phone vibrate; saw that it was you calling him and hid it under the cushions. He came back into the living room and told her she should go. The two of you had plans. He should probably get ready.

Nell stalled, asking him where the two of you were going, could she come along? Joel quickly said no. He made a start to walk to the front door to open it for her when he stumbled. Joel couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt weird. His eyesight got all loopy, he felt drunk, his body felt heavy, his head disorientated. Nell got up and helped him stand, he tried to push her off, but she shushed him gently, and helped him to the couch. It took a few minutes for him to still – he kept trying to stand and get away from her, but after a few minutes his breathing relaxed and he laid still on the couch, both feet splayed on the floor, his head on the backrest, his hands limp by his sides, his eyes fighting to stay open.

Nell got to work. You would be back soon, and she needed to set the scene. She took his pants off and was immediately rewarded by what she had always wanted to confirm. Hung Miller was indeed, hung. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him, even flaccid. She sat between his splayed legs and put her mouth on him. He weakly tried to push her off, but she pinned his hands to the side, cooing at him to stop fighting it. You know you want this, Joel. I know you want me. I’m going to save you from her, Joel. It’s not right. This monster cock right here shouldn’t belong to a prude like her. He kept trying to push her off, fighting the drunken feeling in his head. She continued sucking him, it took a while before he even responded, thickening slightly under her assault. There you go, she crooned at him. Just as she was about to take him in her mouth again, the door fully opened.

You were standing right there, taking in what you came home to, after successfully reaching your mom through a phone call.

You calmly told her to get off your husband and get out of your house. She stammered excuses after excuses, telling you that they hadn’t meant for you to find out like this, that she was sorry, but they were in love, and she just wanted you to be happy, so she let you have him. Please Aria, forgive me, she said through tears. Please don’t leave him. He loves you, please Aria. You asked her how long? She told you it had been going on since she came back to town, at his office while you were at work. No one else knew, she swore. Again, you calmly told her to get out, you never wanted to see her again. She nodded weakly, and left, a satisfied smile on her face.

You looked at your husband, and immediately sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t responding to you the way a husband caught with his pants down would. You slapped his face to get him to focus on you, but it didn’t work. You tried to pull him up, but he was much heavier than you, and he fell back limply onto the couch. Your wrath turned into worry in an instant.

You called 911 immediately.

***

Nell waited for the fallout. Hours, days, weeks, and then a couple months went by, but none came. She hadn’t heard anything about you and Joel divorcing. She called a few people under the pretence of catching up, but no one entertained her. Everyone claimed to be busy and had no time to catch up. Some straight up declined her calls. But she saw a bunch of them hanging out at the usual spot, and then she noticed you. You and Joel were there - his arm happily around your shoulder, the two of you merrily laughing and chatting with your friends as if nothing happened.

You two were still together? How was that possible? Why didn’t it work? What else would it take? You literally came back to her giving your husband a blowjob, and you didn’t leave him? Didn’t you have any dignity at all?

She asked her parents if they had heard anything about you and Joel, and they said no. She tried calling Tommy, but he never picked up. Your mom didn’t pick up either. She was starting to feel left out. She had to find out.

She went to the usual club to find Tommy. He was there, this time with a woman, looking all cosy and intimate. He didn’t introduce her to Nell, and when Nell introduced herself, the woman looked away and busied herself with her phone. Tommy told her he didn’t have time for her tonight, he’s with someone. Nell asked anyway, if everything was fine with you and Joel as she had ‘heard some rumours’. Tommy took the lady by the hand and left. Nell went after him, asking him questions incessantly, but he ignored her.

She chased him and the woman all the way to his car before he aggressively walked towards her and warned her to leave him and his family the fuck alone. That he was done talking to her.

She got desperate. She went over to your house the next day. She waited until Joel came back from his run. When he saw her, he warned her to stay the fuck away from him and his wife. Nell tried to tell him that she was only doing that for their benefit, that they were meant to be together, it’s not too late. When you came out, she told you that she was in love with Joel, and he with her. You should take the high road and leave, let them be happy. Joel stood in front of you and raised his voice at her.

“Leave us alone. I am not kidding Nell. I don’t have any feelings for you. You and I are not together. We have never been together. And we will never be together. You are not fooling anyone. Be thankful I don’t have enough proof to report you for what you did. Leave us the fuck alone. Or I will get the law involved.”

“Joel, I understand you need to say this in front of Aria. But Joel, you don’t understand. She’s trapping you. She manipulated you. She made you believe we were a lie. Joel, please, open your eyes. Come back to me Joel. Please.”

Joel looked at her incredulously.

“You need help, Nell. Stay away from me. Stay away from my wife. Stay away from us.”

He turned around and took you in his arms, escorting you in. She called out to him again.

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

***

“Joel, I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Joel huffed a long, frustrated breath. You just looked resigned and tired.

“How is that possible? I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone fuck you. Get help Nell, seriously.”

He took you inside and shut the door.

Fuck.

Why the fuck would she say that? She had taken it too far, right? This was going to blow in her face, wasn’t it?

Shit.

Think Nell, think. Bigger game plan.

What an ass. She told him she was pregnant, and he dismissed her? What a twat. Any normal man would panic, and this dude was just looking at her like she was crazy. And you. You would think that any normal woman would freak the fuck out if some woman was blowing your husband and claimed to have an affair with him. Suspicious, at the very least. Doubtful, perhaps. Angry, even. But you just stood there and took it. Such a pushover. You were living proof that a fancy degree didn’t mean squat. Dumb bitch.

Welp. She should give up. She really should. There was no way she could get away with this.

But then she wouldn’t get him.

And she really wanted him.

Sure, at first it was just about sampling his famously monster cock, but in her quest to seduce him since the beginning, she had seen him around you. Seen your relationship as husband and wife. Even when he was just looking at you from afar as he was working back in her house all that time ago, Nell envied the way he looked at you. It was never lust. Even back then, he never looked at you like you were a piece of meat he wanted to fuck. He looked at you like there were no other women on this planet. And then there were the ways he acted around you. How he was with you. How loving. How gentle. How romantic. How passionate. How doting. Like his life revolved around you. Even drugged, he was resisting her, loyal to you.

No one had ever looked at her the way Joel looked at you. Not even Tony.

She wanted that. She wanted someone to treat her the way he treated you. But not just any man, she wanted him.

When she got home, she laid on her bed and thought hard about her life, or the lack of one. Her parents had been nagging her to get a job or go back to school. Figure out a life for herself, they said. She didn’t understand what the big deal was. Not like they were destitute. Her spending were change found at the bottom of the couch to her dad. Now they had given her a deadline. Get a job or go back to school within three months, or they will cut her off.

Great. Now she had to go back to school and learn something. Again. Realistically, what job could she get that would fit her lifestyle? She spent hundreds on manicure alone. What minimum wage job would keep that up?

Fuck.

Maybe Tommy was right. She should grow up. Think clearly. Objectively.

Why did it bother her so much that Joel was in love with you? She wondered if she would feel like this if he had married someone else. She kept fixating on you. The fact that you got him bothered her.

What was this animosity she had with you?

For years she kept blaming it on her parents. They preferred you. You were their dream daughter. They neglected her. Prioritized you. So, naturally, she held a grudge against you.

But did they?

The truth was, she couldn’t even say that they were ever neglectful of her. Sure, they had offered you a lot of things your parents couldn’t possibly afford, but it was always after her needs were taken care of first, and you never took their offer, at least not when you started having an after-school job. You had always found your own ways to get what you needed, worked hard for everything. When you were little, you wore her hand-me-downs, played with toys she no longer wanted, read books her parents bought for her that she never bothered to read, gave in to her when she didn’t get her way. She had always been their priority. You were always second.

And yet, you were the one who helped every day when Susan suffered from her stroke. She came home for one summer where she didn’t lift a finger to help her own mother and took off without looking back, spending their money on a whim until she got kicked out of the university and had nowhere else to go. Honestly, right now? Even she could see why they saw you as a daughter. And still, they prioritized her, supported her, loved her, spent money on her, and tried to help her better herself.

She realized then what her actual problem with you was. What she really couldn’t stand about you. It was the fact that you were born lesser than her - in status, looks, background, opportunities – yet you always came out on top. In everything.

She had grown up always getting what she wanted. You had to work hard for everything you wanted. And now, what she wanted was Joel, she tried so hard to capture his attention, and couldn’t even get him to glance at her. And you got him to cater to your every need without trying.

It pissed her off.

But now, she had gone too far. You had never been unkind to her. Her friends may have left her for you, but you had always stayed.

Maybe it’s time to come clean. Accept defeat.

Sigh. So far, taking Tommy’s advice, being a grown up, a good person, sucked.

There was a knock on her door. Her parents came in when she answered. They looked dead serious. Worried, too, she sensed. As soon as her mother sat on her bed, Nell felt a prickling at the back of her neck. They told her your mom had called them. Told them about the baby. Was it true? Was she pregnant? With Joel’s baby?

This was it. Just confess Nell. No going back.

Get it over with. Just confess. And it’ll all blow over soon.

Go on, just say it.

NO!

Instead, she nodded, tears falling thickly on her cheeks.

She told them ‘everything’. How she and Joel had always wanted each other, how they carried out an affair from the moment she got back, how you had caught them at your house together, how you had poisoned him against her, and now he wouldn’t admit to the affair at all. And now she was pregnant with his baby, and he wouldn’t take responsibility and it was your fault! She knew you weren’t as perfect as everyone thought you were. You were conspiring against her all along!

Her parents listened; Susan held her until she fell asleep.

When they left the room, they had a discussion on how to handle this matter delicately.

They left her to ‘mourn and be sad’ for a few days. They came in to talk to her every day. Made sure she was alright, that she ate, drank, showered, and slept. And then they told her that they had a plan. There was no way Joel was going to be able to back out of his responsibility this way. Come on, get ready. We’re going out.

They drove her to the hospital and told her she needed to get a paternity test. Joel will join them there.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

How was she going to get out of this one?

She refused, saying that she didn’t want to see you. No, dear, Aria won’t be there. He promised. So, she went, having no other option but to obey. Joel was, indeed, there. There was no sign of you anywhere. She put on a happy face, a façade for the ‘affair’ for her parents, and went to kiss him, but he took a step back. She could see her parents’ frustrations with him. But he just looked fed up with this whole arrangement.

The doctor asked her a few questions first, reminding her that the conversation may be recorded since this was contestable in court.

(Oh, shit. This had gone too far now, just stop with the whole play, Nell. Just fucking confess while you still could!)

The doctor asked her a list of questions. When was her last period. When was the last time they had sex. And more mundane, very private questions.

She answered all of them. Joel scoffing and rolling his eyes at every single one that involved his… supposed participation.

When she laid on the bed for the ultrasound, she reached out to Joel so that he could hold her hand. She had imagined Joel holding your hand if you were doing this. She wanted that. But he stayed stock still where he was, not even looking at her. Her parents were looking at her with unreadable expressions. Joel ignored her. Her parents didn’t say anything, didn’t intervene either. Her father looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided not to.

When the doctor conducted the ultrasound, of course, she found nothing.

She was not pregnant.

Was never pregnant.

Joel left the room immediately, after releasing a very long breath of annoyance.

When the doctor explained all this to her, Nell cried. She was hysterical. She cried so much her parents came over to console her.

Might as well commit to the bit now, she thought.

“Did I imagine it all? Oh God, what have I done? I have to find Aria and Joel. I have to apologize to them!”

She dramatically ran down the hall, calling for Joel. When she saw him, she told him she was sorry, she didn’t know what was happening to her. Please forgive me Joel. Please.

When Joel turned, Nell saw that you were there in his arms. You looked at her with tears in your eyes. You didn’t seem angry, but you had a look of… pity? She couldn’t stand it.

She saw red again.

You were the reason she had to stoop this low. She lunged forward to scratch your face, but security caught her by the waist and pulled her back. Joel immediately got you out of there, making sure she couldn’t get to you.

The next thing she knew, she was restrained, and then everything went black.

***

Susan and your mom went to visit Nell at the place where she was ‘resting’, at least, that was what her family told everyone. Your mom gave her flowers from you, telling her that you couldn’t make it, you were busy at work. But you did say hi and hoped that she was doing better.

Nell smiled and took the flowers from you. She was feeling much better, she told the two mothers. These past few months had helped a lot. She felt rested, clear, happy. She had worked hard at recovery. She was never diagnosed with anything, or at least she was never told that she suffered from anything, the doctors thought she just needed rest. A few months away from stress, just until her delusions went away.

The delusions, she had admitted to her therapist, that caused her to spiral and conjured an entire affair that never happened. That could not have possibly happened since Joel didn’t have an office where this affair had supposedly taken place at, since Joel was out of town the whole time the ‘pregnancy’ was supposedly conceived, working on a project in the next state over. The delusions that could have destroyed her best friend’s marriage. That could have torn families apart. She cried in therapy when she talked about it. She felt so guilty. How could she had spiralled that badly? Was she so hung up on a man who never paid her any attention? To the point of sexually assaulting him? What was wrong with her? She was so thankful that you and Joel decided not to press charges. So thankful that her parents saw through the whole thing and got her help.

She made so much progress. She slept better, ate better, took time to meditate, and really, really found herself, she told the therapist. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to rejoin society, but she felt as if she would do so much better than before. She finally saw the errors of her ways, and understood, for once in her life, why people were so drawn to you. She should be more like you. You were selfless, that’s why people loved you. You had always dedicated your life to serve others. Even chose a line of work that would make sick children feel better. What could be more noble? She was even thinking of going back to school, locally, of course, so she could be close to her parents.

She told Susan and your mom that she would be released soon, but if it’s alright with her parents, she would take it easy for a while, before looking into courses she could take at the local university. One step at a time.

Both ladies heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that she was doing better.

***

When Nell finally went home a couple of months later, she had not seen you or Joel in eight months. When she got home, she told you, via text, that she wasn’t quite ready to face you, the embarrassment was too great. You understood. The two of you spent a couple of weeks just texting, like old times, before moving on to calls, and eventually, FaceTime.

The first time you FaceTime with her, she was nervous. She didn’t know how forgiving you were, just the thought of seeing your face mortified her. But you were beyond understanding, seemingly just happy to see your friend well again. Joel never joined your sessions, though. He wasn’t ready to face her, and to be frank, he wasn’t quite as trusting as you, believing that you should be careful with her, that he had an unease at the pit of his stomach about her. That you were too nice, too gullible. He just didn’t trust her at all. You understood, you would feel like that too, if you were him, after what she had done to him. So you and Nell chatted on FaceTime alone. She said you looked different – you were glowing. You brushed it off, saying she was seeing her own reflection on the phone, the two of you giggling like schoolgirls again. It was nice to get your old friend back, newly improved, in fact. She seemed lighter, merrier. You were proud of her for getting help.

After two months of being home, Nell said she was finally ready to meet with you. In public, of course. The two of you had agreed to meet at a café you frequented. When she arrived, you were already there. You looked radiant.

And very pregnant. 

Nell hugged you, disbelief in her eyes. You were just entering your eighth month and made fun of your waddling as you sat back down. You wanted to surprise her, you said. She seemed genuinely happy for you. Was it a boy or girl? Have you picked a name? When were you due? She was excited when you referred to her as Auntie Nell, touched that you were even considering having her in your baby’s life after everything she had done to you.

After the initial glow of baby talk had passed, Nell took your hand in hers, and looked you in the eyes. She was teary, looking so apologetic, and begged you for forgiveness. She didn’t know what came over her. I am so sorry, Aria. Please, sister, forgive me. You hugged her tight, telling her it’s okay. It’s all in the past. Let’s move forward, yeah? When Nell finally let go of you, her face was wet with tears, but she felt a thousand times lighter.

The two of you chatted a bit more, catching up on gossip, and the ongoings in the town. Finally, Joel’s truck pulled up. Nell froze. Joel got out to help you up and get into the truck. Nell kept her distance after giving you one last hug and told Joel how sorry she was about everything. She would take it all back if she could. She knew he might never forgive her, ever, but hoped that one day he would find it in his heart to forgive her. Joel nodded curtly, before he helped you into the truck, gave you a quick kiss, and ran around to the driver’s side.

***

About two weeks before your due date, you were advised to stay home.  You had gotten so big everything was swollen, and moving became a challenge. You told Nell this over the phone as you sat on your couch trying to decide what movie to watch, and how bored you were just sitting at home doing nothing. You couldn’t even clean – bending over became almost impossible without the possibility of toppling over. After you hung up, you started a movie, and received a text from Nell, asking if she and her mother could come over and keep you company – maybe watch the movie with you? Bring you Chinese food? They could bring their maid over; help you clean a bit?

You immediately said yes, your hunger and exasperation at your messy house taking over.

When she knocked on the door, you answered after what felt like five minutes, getting up from the couch unassisted had become some CrossFit challenge with how big you had gotten. Nell came in, bags of Chinese take-out in her hands, marveling at how much baby stuff was in your living room. So many plushies and teddy bears and half made furniture, waiting for Joel to get home to finish assembling. You asked her where Susan was. You thought she was coming? Ah, she’s parking the car, she said.

You leaned out the door to greet her, but Nell’s car was right there in your driveway, no Susan anywhere.

Something sharp pricked you in the neck.

And a pair of hands caught you as you lost consciousness.

***

WARNING: DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOODY ATTACK

Nell sat in the defendant’s chair in the large courtroom, waiting for the jury to return. It had been a long few months for her. She couldn’t believe she was here. The nerve of some people. What was so wrong with wanting something, or in her case, someone? Her dumbass of a lawyer didn’t even try. She wanted to take the deal, for crying out loud. Screw the evidence. She was going to fight this. The juries will see she was in the right.

She had waited until you were awake again. She tied you up so you wouldn’t struggle. She needed to tell you she won, after all. Nice guys finish last, all that. She needed the satisfaction. She couldn’t believe how gullible you were. To trust her again after everything. Such a stupid bitch. Who would do that? Well, you would, evidently.

You kept asking her if she had taken her medication that day. That she was not thinking straight. She laughed at the idea that you were so straightlaced that you didn’t even know about tonguing your meds. How did you ever satisfy Joel, she had asked, if you didn’t even know what a tongue could do? He doesn’t deserve you, you prude. And what made you think she needed medications in the first place? She faked the whole delusions thing, you idiot. She didn’t spend years at acting school for nothing. She may have flunked out, but she did learn some useful skills. Her parents had started threatening to cut her off if she didn’t get a job soon, and she wanted Joel. Having delusional thoughts seemed the perfect opportunity to get out of adult responsibilities, and simultaneously, break your joke of a marriage up. That place her parents had sent her to was basically a luxurious five-star spa, and she got to lounge about for eight months at the price of spouting bullshit her therapists wanted to hear every couple of days.

You asked her why. What had you ever done to her to merit this? Because you always needed to be better than her. Even in infancy, you started walking before she did, even though she was born two whole weeks before you. You started talking first. You got better grades than her. Did better at piano than her. Got the best parts in school plays than her. You were liked better than her. Even her parents thought of you as the better daughter, even though they were not your real parents. All her friends liked you better than her. Her boyfriends liked you more than her. Men in general wanted you more than her. You got into a better programme than her in college, a programme that her parents were so proud of, they kept telling everyone about it, and yet her own accomplishments went unnoticed. And your biggest mistake of all? You let Joel Miller fall in love with you. You married him. Got pregnant with his baby. It should’ve been her. She deserved it, not you. She could offer him so much more than you could.

But it had become quite clear that he was besotted with you, and as long as you were around, he was never going to get over you.

So, you needed to go.

You begged her not to harm your baby. Please, don’t do anything to my baby. Please, Nell.

Oh you silly bitch, she would never do anything to Joel Miller’s baby. She was going to be there for him and raise the baby with him. It’s you that’s in her way, not your baby.

And with that, she jabbed you with another dose of sedative. She put gloves on and began to cut your baby out of your stomach.

She didn’t anticipate the problems she would face. She had watched so many videos on YouTube, but still, it took forever to cut you open. She had to be careful. She didn’t want to hurt the baby. She needed the baby alive, sure that Joel would mourn too long if he lost you both. The baby was the excuse she needed to spend time with him, to help him. After what felt like hours, she managed to cut you open.

She didn’t anticipate how much blood would be involved. But she persevered. She cut the layers that follow, and finally, after some struggles with an obscene amount of fluid, managed to get your baby out. It’s a girl. She was so happy. She pictured herself and Joel raising this little girl together, happiness finally within reach.

But the baby wasn’t crying. Wasn’t breathing. She panicked. If this baby died, Joel would never recover from your death. She needed this baby alive. Fuck. She had to call 911. But she couldn’t risk you being rescued. It was vital that you must die. She checked where she thought your pulse would be. She couldn’t really feel anything, couldn’t hear your heartbeat either. She washed her hands and got rid of the gloves and plastic apron she was wearing. She took a deep breath and dialled 911.

She gave the performance of a lifetime. She had just walked in to find you bleeding on the floor, your baby cut out of you. Please send help. She couldn’t find a pulse. Oh my God please don’t let my sister die. Please God. Her baby is not breathing, please hurry. She sobbed her way through the call, all the way until the paramedics and the police arrived minutes later. They cut the umbilical cord and cleared your baby’s airway, and after a while, she cried. You were still breathing, albeit very slowly. You had lost a lot of blood.

Nell panicked. You couldn’t still be alive. But she couldn’t do anything. She was surrounded by the police and paramedics. As they were loading you into the ambulance, a panicked Joel and Tommy arrived. Joel said something to Tommy, and Tommy went right inside. Joel climbed into the ambulance and off it went at full speed. She was stuck there, having to give her statement to the police. She was still keeping up with her acting skills, the grieving best friend who was so traumatized she could hardly speak. Someone must have attacked you, and her arrival must have spooked them away. She pleaded with them to let her go to the hospital to be with you. They ignored her pleas. She needed to answer more questions.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Tommy speak to an officer. He brought the officer inside, and they came back out, a plastic evidence bag with a teddy bear in it in the officer’s hand.

She was brought to the station and placed in an interrogation room. She was there for hours. They kept asking her to repeat her version of events again and again. She was exhausted. She later learnt that she was there for eight hours. When she was finally let out, she saw Tommy giving his statement to an officer, along with some of your friends. But they weren’t held in an interrogation room. No one would tell her anything about you or your baby.

She rushed to the hospital, keeping up the appearance of being the worried best friend. There were police officers outside your room. They wouldn’t let her in. She saw a grief-stricken Joel sitting by your bed, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, you unconscious still, your hand in his. He kept kissing your hand and stroking your head, worry and love written all over his very tired face. She imagined him looking at her with such love one day once you passed.

She went to the nursery and found your parents and Joel’s father and stepmother inside, holding your baby. When they left the room, they saw her, but walked away. Police officers guarded the nursery as well, and wouldn’t let her in. She followed the path your parents and Joel’s took and saw them hugging her parents. They looked at her with disappointment on their faces, and before she knew it, cuffs were slapped on her wrists, and she was arrested for attempted murder in the first degree.

The three sets of parents didn’t do anything to stop the officers, even her own. She was brought back to the interrogation room. She was protesting the whole way, saying that she needed to be with you. She didn’t understand why they arrested her. What evidence did they have to treat you this way?

An officer placed an iPad on the table, and pressed play.

It was a snippet of a video, with audio. All caught on the nanny cam that Joel had installed in a Teddy Bear and placed on the mantel. There she was, clear as day, cutting your stomach open.

The officer stopped the video, told her that she’d better pray the charges doesn’t escalate to murder in the first degree, and walked out.

The trial only took two days. Joel sat on the prosecution side, your parents, his parents, Tommy and your friends surrounding him. Even her own parents were sitting with him. They had paid for the best lawyer they could find to help the DA prosecute their own daughter. They didn’t even bother getting her one. She had to make do with the stupid lawyer that was provided by the county.

The DA offered a plea deal. Ten years in prison if she pleaded guilty. She declined. Her dumbass lawyer tried to get her to take the deal. No! Why would she? When had fighting for what’s rightfully yours a crime? And then, just her luck, the dumbass botched every single argument and defence she had.

You were a conniving bitch who stole the love of her life right from under her. You manipulated him into hating her. You turned everyone against her. She was emotionally driven to get back at you. She was a victim of your bullying. She snapped.

Everyone who was called to the stand disputed this – even Joel, even her own parents. Everyone testified that you were the sweetest person they knew. That Joel was in love with you since high school. Even his ex-girlfriend who he was dating at the time sent a statement to that fact. She only had high praise for you. They all recalled how she had shamelessly flirted with Joel since forever, only to be rebuffed by him. Even the fact that she had drugged him and assaulted him came to light. You had taken him to the hospital right after, and he tested positive for Rohypnol. The only reason they didn’t press charges was because they didn’t have proof that she was the one who laced his protein shake. And that was why Joel had installed the Nanny Cam when you started being friendly with her again.

She’s mentally unstable – she did suffer from delusions. She was delusional. She didn’t know what she was doing. She was even treated for it. It wasn’t her fault. Seeing you being pregnant with the child of the man she loved triggered her.

Except, the Nanny Cam footage caught her admitting to knowing what she was doing all along. That she was never delusional. That she knowingly did what she did to steal him from you, and to get out of having to work for a living.

And then there was all the forensic evidence – Nell realized there and then that just because one watched a lot of CSI, didn’t mean one could get away with attempted murder.

Of course, the most damning of all, was your testimony. You stared her straight in the eyes as you told the court what had happened. No love left in your eyes for her.

Guilty.

She was sentenced to 21 years in a prison at the other end of the country. Enough time for you, Joel and Sarah to disappear that she couldn’t find you when she did taste freedom again.

As they took her away, Nell got weak in the knees, begging you to forgive her. You turned around and walked out hand in hand with Joel and the rest of your family, never wanting to see her again.

***

You sat between Joel’s legs, his arms wrapped tight around you, his chin on your shoulder as the two of you watched Sarah hold Ellie’s hand while they searched for shells along the beach behind your new home. You had decided to move as far away as you can from your hometown. All three sets of parents came along with you, buying houses a couple streets over to be close to the kids, having retired and sold their businesses. Tommy met your new colleague Maria, and very quickly moved in with her. He proposed after only a few months. Joel and Tommy started their own woodworking company, not using the Miller name in case Nell got out and looked for you. You got a job at a local pharmaceutical company, doing what you did back in your hometown for better money. You couldn’t risk working at a hospital again for obvious reasons. No one wanted to stay in that town after what happened. A fresh start. For everyone.

It took a lot of therapy for you and Joel to get here. A lot of nightmares. But you got through it all. You couldn’t bring yourself to get pregnant again after what happened, so you and Joel adopted Ellie a few months ago. Sarah was flourishing and was so in love with her little sister. Joel had been your rock through all of this, despite what Nell did to him. He told you that he thanked God every day that he didn’t remember what happened, although it took a while for him to get back to his old self after. These days, he was still as protective as ever, working hard to provide for you and family, coming home to you and his girls every day with a huge smile on his face. He had become a bit grumpy around your new friends, wary of everyone now, but you loved him for it. He held you tight at night and had a hand on you at all times whenever you two would go out, even if he had one of the kids in his hands. Your nightmares were of being attacked, while his was of losing you. Those few days you were unconscious were the worst days of his life, and he was sure that he wouldn’t survive if he ever lost you.

Nell’s parents cut her off for good. They willed all their money to charity and your children, their grandchildren, as far as they were concerned. You had always been more of a daughter to them than Nell ever was, you cared for them when they needed you, while she was off galivanting in college.

She wrote to you every day for a whole year before you instructed the post office to return any letters from her address. You never read any of her letters. To your knowledge, no one had ever gone to visit her, using distance as an excuse, not that anyone would, even if she was nearby.

As far as you and Joel were concerned, you lives began after the incident. Anything before that was not worth mulling over. This, right here, the four you, and the family you have around you, were all that mattered. If the two of you could get through what Nell put you through, you could go through anything. Together.

[elizabethemerald]

The Meeting

The Beginning of the New Pantheon: Part 3

Masterpost

“What do you mean, what?” Cassie demanded. “Do you know about Olympus and the Hellenic gods?” 

“Yes, we know about the Greek gods!” Sam snapped. “We’re not stupid you know!” 

“I’m just asking!” Cassie put her hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t certain if I had actually stumbled into an alternate dimension where instead of Olympians the domains were managed by sentient mayonnaise and the oceans were filled with shredded cheese.” 

Her statement knocked both of them onto their back foot in a way that announcing she was on a mission from Zeus didn’t. Maybe they were used to higher powers reaching out with missions? 

“Has that actually happened?” Tucker asked. 

Cassie took a moment to think about all of the weird alternate realities she and Young Justice had gone through. 

“Uh… not exactly, but pretty close sometimes.” Cassie said. She pulled out her JL comm “Anyways! I’m going to call for backup. I can explain more once they are on the way.” 

“You probably won’t get very much range on that thing.” Tucker said, looking at her comm. 

“Wha…t?” She looked down at her comm in confusion. 

The top of the line Wayne Tech communication device that Red Robin had personally modded and improved even beyond the rest of the League’s equipment was now a generic two way radio. Like something fresh from the box at Radio Shack, from back when Radio Shack still existed and was popular. Her confusion changed to mounting horror as she pulled out the palm computer that was capable of hacking into the pentagon and instead revealed a flip phone capable of playing snake (maybe). 

“Ok, while not an alternate universe full of mayonnaise, Amity Park is still apparently trapped backwards in time, and all technology is forced to match. Cool. Cool. That might make calling for help a little difficult.” 

Sam looked sympathetic as Cassie tried to contain her freak out. Tucker looked curious at the thought of whatever advanced technology that might be available outside the city. Cassie took a deep breath and steadied herself. 

“I’ll go for help personally as soon as I can, but in the meantime, I’m here now. If you two or Phantom need any help, I’ll do whatever I can.” Cassie declared, her voice once more steady and sure. 

“How do you know Phantom?” Sam demanded. 

Before Cassie could respond or explain, a wailing claxon sounded, the loudspeakers screaming a warning of some kind. Both Sam and Tucker tensed and Cassie prepared for a fight, whatever was coming, she would be here to help. 

.

Donna gave a small sigh of relief as she touched down just outside Titans Tower. Nightwing was there to greet her, and it was clear that the rest of those she had asked for were already here. She led the way to the Tower’s war room. By the time she had settled at the head, the rest of the table was full. Not everyone present would be part of the New Pantheon, but she knew those who would be needed the support from the rest. 

“Thank you all for meeting me so quickly.” Donna started. “Diana, Cassie and myself have just returned after being summoned to Mount Olympus by Zeus himself.” 

Everyone in the room sat forward, laser focused on her. She had to take a steadying breath. Sure, Zeus had named her the next Queen of Olympus, and it would be her duty to guide and lead the New Pantheon, but she was not alone. She had friends here, allies, some who would share the responsibilities, some who would willingly follow her orders. They could take the domains of the gods and make something better of them, for the whole planet. 

“They gave us dire news, and a mission, a larger mission than any we have faced before.” She watched as the others tensed, ready to spring into action, so she raised her hands a little. “The Earth is not currently in any danger. The threat that they foresee will come in decades, not days.” The room relaxed, the air feeling breathable once more. “Since we have been given the time to prepare, we can prevent what they predicted from impacting the denizens of Earth.” 

“Well then, what is this threat, so that we may vanquish?” Damian demanded, his hand tightly grasping a weapon, his chest puffed out so he could make up for his short stature. Donna carefully hid, her grin, he would not appreciate being taken less seriously. 

“The Gods of Olympus are dying.” Donna said, then she continued on to explain what she, Diana and Cassie had been told. 

“I’m not certain I trust when they say that there is nothing that can be done.” Red Robin said, leaning forward while he thought. “We’ve faced impossible and improbable before and succeeded.” 

“That’s true, but in the meantime, we should consider the option that has been provided, successors to the gods chosen from among our numbers.” Donna said, she knew no matter what she said that there would be some of them who would try and find an alternative, she wasn’t certain there was one, Greeks in general and the Olympians in particular weren’t known for giving up without a fight, at least as long as they had any other option. 

“Who was chosen to be a successor?” Impulse asked, then zipped around to the other side of the table, an armful of snacks appearing in his arms. 

“I was chosen by Zeus to be his successor and the next Queen of Olympus.” Donna said. 

She had mentally braced herself for disparaging remarks or someone contesting her potential rule, instead she was surprised by the outpouring of support from her companions. Everyone seemed to feel that Zeus had chosen well and that she deserved her future role. 

“You definitely should be Queen, but I’m kind of surprised Cassie didn’t end up as Zeus’ successor considering the whole lightning lasso thing she’s got going on.” Kon said. 

“Cassie was chosen by Ares to be his successor.” 

Donna could see the other three members of Young Justice scowl at the God of War’s involvement, except Dick quickly snapped his fingers at them. 

“Hey let’s keep our diplomatic faces on for the time being. I’m sure some of us aren’t happy with some of these decisions, but the last thing we want is for this to devolve into an unnecessary conflict with the Olympians.”

She smiled at him, glad for his support. The Olympians ruled through a monarchy, and the League teams knew they needed a single leader during a crisis, but maybe this New Pantheon could rule with something more egalitarian. 

“And speaking of our Boy Wonder, Nightwing, you were chosen by Apollo to be his successor. The League’s Sunshine boy will be our God of Light.” Donna announced with a smile, but when she met Dick’s eyes she knew he could see more truth in her words. Apollo was not just a god of light, he was also a God of Truth, which made perfect sense for a detective like Dick. Plus there were few who could equal Apollo’s wrath when scorned. 

“Wait, does that mean he’s your kid?” The younger Superboy, Jon asked. 

“We are not literally becoming the gods, we are taking their place.” Donna said quickly before anyone could get any weird ideas. “So no one needs to marry their sibling, no one needs to eat their children, and I will not be leaving a bunch of demi-god bastards all over the planet.”

“If Cassie was chosen by Ares, where is she?” Impulse asked. “Did he already make her a god and we missed it?” 

“No. The Olympians agreed not to elevate anyone until all of their chosen successors were together. Cassie went to make contact with a group of heroes who were not in the League database.” Donna watched as Red Robin frowned and started to type on his wrist computer. “According to Cassie they weren’t even on the super secret Young Justice only database that the rest of us are supposed to pretend we don’t know about.” 

His frown grew more pronounced and Dick smiled and reached over and ruffled his hair. 

“So who are these heroes we’ve apparently never heard of, but have caught the attention of the Olympians?” Dick asked, half to take the attention off Tim and half out of genuine curiosity. 

“None of them have names I recognize, half of them don’t even have hero names, just regular civilian names.” Donna replied as she pulled out her copy of the list. She had less information on the new heroes as reaching out to them wasn’t her responsibility.

“Maybe it's something like Constantine?” Stephanie asked. “He’s always just known by his full name, even though his enemies call him the Hellblazer.” 

“They could also face magical threats of some kind.” Raven said, her hair floating a little and the shadow under her writhing for a moment. “Demonic incursions are usually handled without the input or knowledge of the rest of the League.”

Donna bit her lip. As a demi-god, Cassie was one of the better members of the younger heroes to face a magical threat, but it was very possible for her to get in over her head. She would trust the younger girl, but if she didn’t report back by the time the rest of Young Justice and the Teen Titans were informed and gotten over their respective fits about it, she would have to go herself to ensure that Cassie was safe. 

Though how much trouble could she really get into in the middle of the country?

[witchthewriter]

is GoT or HotD good?

First and foremost - everyone has their own opinion on these series and books and it can get very heated in the fandom.

Do not let that deter you from anything! I think you should definitely watch both shows and form your own opinion! Nothing has to be so black and white.

However, for me, it's very nuanced ˚⊱🪷⊰˚

𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒕𝒘!

Okay my friend let us begin 🌸˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧🩷˚⋆

George RR Martin, the author of the Song of Ice and Fire world, is a brilliant writer. Amazing at worldbuilding, at expressing so many different points of view and so on. It was no wonder why/how the GoT show became so popular (George was apart of its creation on screen until the showrunners went a different way and ... 👎)

With the Game of Thrones show, I think the first 3 seasons are peak and then it just goes down hill from there. The dialogue was amazing, the physical camera work, the way you never know who could die next.

Dany, THE DRAGONS, Sansa, Margaery, the Hound, the magical aspects - that's what carried the show for me.

So then with House of the Dragon - we get to see SO MANY dragons and ... oh god, that was the best part for me. I'm sorry that I'm being predictable and a lil repetitive but I just love them! Also, watching Emma's face, they are just so gorgeous and I could watch them all day. Seriously.

Character-wise my favourites are Rhaenyra (both young and older), Helaena, Harwin Strong, Baela & Rhaena, Rhaenys, and Alys Rivers.

Plot-wise my favourite is that at times it feels Shakespearean. Especially in season two. I think season 2 is better; the pace feels better, I like a lot of the new characters but some parts are ... disappointing?

I do love the dynamic Rhaenyra has with so many ... people - that's something very interesting that I do not want to spoil.

And the costumes! Oh my god, I do think they're absolutely divine. Especially Rhaenyra's one in the first episode in the ending scene.

Also, the one thing I LOVE is the bond between dragon and their bonded rider. I could talk about it for DAYS.

If you ever need someone to talk to about this stuff, I would love to! Also, I would be so happy to be your ... guide through the shows per-say, if you didn't understand anything or maybe you want to vent etc. This goes for everyone!

[gugugyuu]

best friend oneshot ೀ⋆｡🌷🏫

Beomgyu has been your best friend since god knows when. You both grew up together, from being teenagers to young adults, and you knew everything about him. His strengths, weaknesses, secrets, and, unfortunately, his awful taste in girlfriends.

This week alone, you had seen him with two different girls, and each time, you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

He used to be someone who dreamed of true love, always chasing it and getting his heart broken in the process. But now, watching him move from one girl to the next, you wondered if he had changed.

Maybe this time, Beomgyu is the one doing the heartbreaking.

When you saw him kiss another girl goodbye and walk over towards you and your friends, you quickly gathered your things and left. You didn't want to talk to him.

It wasn't jealousy, of course not. You just couldn't stand seeing him act like that, as if none of these girls mattered. And the fact that his best friend is also a girl? it only made it worse.

Later, in class, Beomgyu wouldn't leave you alone. He kept poking your arm, touching your hair, and pinching your cheek, trying to get you to react. You tried to ignore him, but couldn't help to be annoyed. "Shut it or I'll hit you."

His loud laughter finally caught the professor's attention, and Beomgyu, without hesitation, pointed at you, lying that you were telling jokes.

You panicked, denying, and confused by his childish behavior. Beomgyu just laughed harder, making the teacher kick both of you out of the class.

Beomgyu finally managed to be alone with you, but once it happened, he didn't even know why he wanted to be alone with you or what he was supposed to say.

Should he apologize? But for what? He also wasn't even sure why you're angry.

Thankfully, your friends were nearby, breaking the awkwardness between you two.

A girl called Beomgyu's name from a distance, and he casually waved back. That's when Yeonjun's eyes lit up with a realization.

He clapped. "I've been trying to figure out all day who she reminds me of," he said, grabbing everyone's attention.

Beomgyu's heart skipped a beat, he looked at you then turned to Yeonjun as he panicked. "He-hey, don't be an-"

But before he could stop him, Yeonjun pointed directly at you.

"Me?" you asked, confused.

Everyone nodded, agreeing with him. You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed. "This is stupid," you muttered before walking away from the group.

They called your name, but you didn't bother looking back.

"All of you are idiots," Beomgyu shook his head in disappointment, feeling bad about you being compared to others.

Taehyun chimed in, "Well, all your girlfriends really do kind of look like her. Same face shape, long hair, similar personalities—"

"Except that they're cheaters and none of them are prettier," Soobin cut in, standing up suddenly. "I'll go after her," he said, running to catch up on you.

As you walked away, frustrated by the comparison and the teasing, you still couldn't shake the feeling of irritation building up.

The last thing you wanted was to be dragged into Beomgyu's romantic mess. You weren't like those girls, and the fact that everyone kept saying you look like them? It made it even more frustrating.

Soobin caught up to you, panting slightly. "Hey, wait up," he called out, jogging to your side. "Don't let them get to you."

You gave him a small smile, grateful for his concern but too annoyed to respond properly. "It's fine," you muttered, but it wasn't.

The entire situation felt uncomfortable in a way you couldn't quite explain.

As you walked together in silence, you found yourself thinking about Beomgyu, how he had changed over the years.

Sure, he was still the same playful guy who would steal your snacks and complain about his grades, but there was something different now.

Something that made you feel... off.

Later that evening, Beomgyu showed up at your place unexpectedly. You opened the door, surprised to see him, especially after the weird conversation earlier. "Can we talk?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual. "Best friend?", he called out.

You hesitated but stepped aside to let him in. He didn't waste any time. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I know everyone were being stupid, but... I don't know. I guess it's been bothering me, too."

You blinked, caught off guard.

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking nervous. "I mean... them saying that all my girlfriends kind of look like you. It's weird, right?"

You didn't know how to respond. Yes! It was weird, because I'm starting to see it too! but you hadn't really thought too much about it until today. "I guess," you said slowly, unsure where this was going.

Beomgyu sighed, leaning against your wall. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I feel like I'm messing everything up, and I don't even know why I'm dating these girls anymore. It's like... I'm looking for something, and it's not working."

You stayed quiet, your heart beating a little faster, wondering what he was trying to say.

"And then Yeonjun pointed at you, I freaked out," he admitted, laughing nervously.

You stared at Beomgyu, waiting for him to continue.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours. "Maybe l've been looking in the wrong places..."

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

"I'm an idiot," he said with a weak smile. "I've been chasing after these random girls..."

You took a step back, only to feel the wall against your back.

Beomgyu walked towards you, gently taking both of your hands. He hesitated for just a second, waiting for you to put up a fight. None. He then leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

Your heart raced, and you stood there, completely frozen.

This is Beomgyu, your best friend.

The one who drove you crazy, made you laugh, one you never thought would look at you like this.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his expression turning serious. His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with uncertainty yet laced with vulnerability. "If I'm messing this up, tell me now. But I need you to know... I can't keep pretending everything's normal between us anymore."

Before you could respond, Beomgyu buried his face in the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if he was both afraid of your reaction and desperate for you to understand the weight of his words.

You'd spent years convincing yourself that your feelings for Beomgyu were just friendly, that his endless string of girlfriends didn't matter to you. But now, standing there, hearing his words, you realized maybe that wasn't true at all.

You've been hiding your feelings, just like him.

<back to masterlist> <back to title>

[backjustforberena]

I love the way you say she is a dragon-rider before anything else because that's such a nice way to look at it. Before anything else, and outlasting anything else, she was a dragon-rider. It's the constant in her life. Her other accolades can be made irrelevant or even negative (like being a Targaryen Princess) but to be a dragon-rider is always a good thing, a thing to be proud of, a thing to fear, a thing to take power from. It is always a part of her and her reputation and the implications are fierce. It's a blessing.

RHAENYRA: If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. Fear of it is in itself a weapon. The Greens will make the same calculation. BROOME: The value of a sword is not within its scabbard.

And Meleys has to be that sword. And that's why Rhaenys glares at him: not just for the callous way he wants to burn Green strongholds, which would only incite a similar response from the Greens and would absolutely mean a loss of innocent lives. Rhaenys would be only too aware that, now that Daemon has left for Harrenhal, the dragon who will be fighting other dragons is hers.

Vermax and Moondancer are young (and ridden by her teenage grandchildren), Syrax and Rhaenyra cannot be risked because that's the monarch. It's her. She's the only one that can do it - and, as we know, she is the one to do it.

"Sending Meleys into war isn't just sending a weapon, you are asking Rhaenys to risk the potential loss of part of her very soul."

LOVE THAT!!!! And it concurs with something that Eve says, "She truly believes that the end justifies the means, even if it means sacrificing her own humanity in the process" - I love the idea that participating in dragon warfare is a sacrificial act even before it becomes a literal sacrifice for both Rhaenys and Meleys. That chimes for me.

And you can also read your statement two ways. A loss of a part of her very soul as in literally losing Meleys and Meleys dying in the conflict. But also something even before that. Losing a part of her soul or morals or humanity by using Meleys in such a way as well. Putting her in that scenario.

Meleys is capable of more than aggression. Meleys has feelings and empathy and is humanised. She is an individual being, not simply an extension of Rhaenys or a tool for her to use. There is conscious and consistent thought about her wellbeing. That bond is everything to Rhaenys. It's something she risks her life for. It's something she lives for. And it's central to Rhaenys, with that battle, and also broadly in terms of her character - that he dragon is part of her and her dragon is so much more than a weapon:

"the core of any Targaryen is a dragon."

"My dragon and I have a tender bond [...]"

"[...] her only ally and her only friend is Meleys."

"I think, at that point, her own fate means less. It’s what’s going on with Meleys that’s agony."

"[...] knowing that there was nothing she could do, feeling that it was her fault and that she’d somehow let down Meleys."

"you see the dragon respond and they’re taking care of each other in that moment."

"[...] feeling that somehow she’d let her down or betrayed her in some way..."

"I felt like Rhaenys was saying help and Meleys just says, “you’ve got this.” That moment of connection felt really important."

"The poetry of her literally coming to an end in the sky on her dragon and letting go into eternity is perfect."

In a series that puts quite a lot of stock in the idea of religion, prophecies, gods and touchstones, it doesn't escape me that Rhaenys looks like she's praying here:

I really like the idea that Rhaenys gets just... steamed whenever someone dehumanises Meleys or trivialises her - treats her as a pawn or just an asset.

So instances like when Meleys is imprisoned by the Greens just for what she is and what she could mean for the war, when Daemon just counts Meleys amongst the fighting dragons for Team Black, or he tries to order Rhaenys to take her "mount" and fly with him, or whenever ANY of the men on the Black Council say they should use dragons, send dragons, press their advantage (dragons).

All of those times, I feel like Rhaenys is, to various degrees, outraged.

I think whenever Rhaenys councils against dragon warfare and the bloodiness of it and when she responds to suggestions of attacking with dragons (like side-eying Alfred Broome and wishing his head would catch fire) or the inevitably of it... it's with a personal stake.

Because it's not just unleashing hell. It has specific implications and a specific role and specific risk for a creature that Rhaenys loves.

When they talk about sending dragons to war, it's sending Meleys to war.

[milo-is-rambling]

Most of the time I think life is so so good and then I have one minuscule moment of pain again and it’s like nvm I need to die

[gurugirl]

Sex Tutor

Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.

A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!

Word Count: 10k

Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink

. . .

“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough

You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.

So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.

“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”

“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.

“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”

You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”

Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.

“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.

“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”

You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.

And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.

Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.

Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.

Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.

Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.

Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.

You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.

Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.

You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.

Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.

You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.

He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”

You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.

When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.

He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”

Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.

You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.

“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”

He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”

Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.

“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.

Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”

You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.

“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”

He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”

You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”

He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”

You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”

“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”

You nodded again.

Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”

“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”

He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.

But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.

Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.

And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…

You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”

“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.

“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”

Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.

“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”

You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.

“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.

So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.

Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.

“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.

He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.

When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.

He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.

“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”

You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.

“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”

You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.

Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”

You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”

“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”

“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”

Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.

“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”

It made sense you guessed.

“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”

He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”

You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.

“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“

“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”

“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.

You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.

“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”

You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”

Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”

“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”

Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”

“Did it turn you on?”

Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”

Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”

You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”

“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”

“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”

It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.

“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”

Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”

You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”

You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.

“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”

“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”

“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”

It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.

He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”

You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.

 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”

You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”

Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.

For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.

“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”

He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.

You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.

Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”

He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.

Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.

“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”

You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”

Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“

“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”

“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”

Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.

The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.

Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”

“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”

You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.

Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”

You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”

You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.

You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”

You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”

“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”

You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.

You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.

He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.

He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.

“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”

He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”

You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.

The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.

“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”

You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”

Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”

You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”

“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.

After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.

Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”

You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”

Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”

Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.

When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”

The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.

The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.

And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.

Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.

It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).

The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.

He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.

When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.

Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.

“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.

“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.

Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”

You nodded.

“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.

He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”

Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.

You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.

“Fuck! Yes…”

You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.

You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.

He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”

You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”

He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.

You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.

When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.

And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.

But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.

Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.

He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”

You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…

You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.

“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.

Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.

“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”

Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.

And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.

Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.

The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.

“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”

Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.

When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”

He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”

He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.

You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.

You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.

He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.

When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.

You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”

But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.

When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.

“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”

He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.

He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.

The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.

Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.

You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.

“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.

You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.

If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.

He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.

“Did that all for me? Yeah?”

You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.

“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.

Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.

“Feel okay?”

You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”

“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.

You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”

You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”

There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.

Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.

You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.

When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.

“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”

He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”

“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“

He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.

You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”

“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”

PART 2

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[nereidprinc3ss]

just like heaven

in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.

fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU

“Emily!”

You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair. 

“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”

It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish. 

“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist. 

“Uh…”

Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you. 

“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”

It does not go according to plan. She scoffs. 

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“... Would that work?”

“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”

You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer. 

“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”

She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching. 

“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”

“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”

“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.

You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice. 

“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”

“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”

“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”

At that, you giggle. 

Doctor. 

Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack. 

“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“You’re so young.”

And handsome. 

“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything. 

“You’re… 32?”

That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.

“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all. 

“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”

“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”

“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”

“So… you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”

“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”

The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm. 

“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow. 

“Hm?”

You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?

“You’re a very good handler.”

His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot. 

“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”

You hum thoughtfully. 

“I bet you could. Wanna try?”

Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days. 

Just sometimes. 

“You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You sit back up, stretching your arms out. 

“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”

“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?

“Will you let me drive?”

“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”

You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand. 

“I’m not that drunk.”

Spencer just wiggles his fingers. 

“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”

You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober. 

The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?

No. Not quite worth your self respect. 

“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”

Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.

“Why’s that?”

A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring. 

“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”

He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.  

“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”

“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word. 

You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments. 

“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”

Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough. 

“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”

“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”

A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him. 

“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”

“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”

Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop. 

“You noticed those, huh?”

“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”

“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”

“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”

“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”

You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting. 

“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”

Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find. 

“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”

For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him. 

But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask. 

“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”

He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently. 

“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”

Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences. 

“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”

Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it. 

“You didn’t think what?”

When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off. 

“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”

“Wait.”

He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away. 

“Yeah?”

“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”

“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging. 

“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”

“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you. 

“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”

“What conversation?”

It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid. 

Finally he swallows. 

“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”

Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out. 

“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”

Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you. 

“That’s what this is about, right?”

He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that. 

“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”

You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

It boils over. 

“That you like me!”

It rings. 

Then it’s silent. 

His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes. 

It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this. 

“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city. 

“Spencer, I—”

“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”

“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”

“I—”

It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop.  For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you. 

“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”

“It is true.”

“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”

He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually. 

“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”

There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else. 

He tries to glower, barely. 

“Were you listening to me at all?”

“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”

“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting. 

God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back. 

You’re struck with the need to reassure. 

A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb. 

“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”

He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely. 

Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back. 

His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction. 

It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.

“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”

Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do. 

First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.

In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.

“I like you.”

Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.

“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”

He tinges pink.

“We definitely can’t.”

“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”

“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”

You shrug.

“Friends can kiss.”

“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”

You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle. 

You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet. 

“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”

“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”

Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?

“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”

He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand. 

“I know.”

You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands. 

It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more. 

You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap. 

“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much. 

“Compromise.”

If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically. 

“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”

“Probably,” he says.

But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway. 

[hoffmansgirl]

match made in hell ━ father charlie mayhew ♰

❱ note: this is dirty and so long, i got so carried away...... might make a part two???

﹅ warnings: where do i start... nsfw content of course, blasphemy!!, unprotected piv sex, fingering, squirting, oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, choking, slapping, hair pulling, creampie, mirror sex, they are soulmates <3

♡ requests for nicholas/charlie are so open! you ask and i deliver :) let's keep on feeding our delusions lmao

to say that she was a saint would be a complete misunderstanding. she realised that the first time she met him. the priest, devilishly handsome priest, to be exact, was exactly like her. and she noticed it immediately.

she didn't exactly expect a priest to be this young and this handsome. but what really caught her eye, was the soulless look in his eyes. she didn't know why, but she felt an immediate connection with him, as she sat in the furthest corner of the church, yet he still noticed her. hiding in the shadows, she sat, long, black hair falling freely onto her neck and back, short dress that made him rethink the church's dress code. her eyes glimmering with curiosity, as she listened to his sermon, or at least pretended to. she wet her lips, tilting her head, her eyes wide and devilish.

and then she noticed: his eyes lit up with passion and pure interest as he held her stare throughout rest of the mass.

charlie tried to explain the feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he couldn't. he has never seen this girl before, her every move was hypnotising to him. the way she tilted her head in wonder, her lips pickering just slightly, as she studied his face as if she was admiring him... it made his heart beat faster, his palms becoming sweaty, mind going blank.

the mass ended soon after, and charlie sighed in relief as people began to leave the small church. he then walked around the altar, blowing out the candles, his mind still wandering around the brunette girl, when a soft, melodic voice behind his back caught him off guard.

"hello, um... i'm sorry, father... i'm y/n", she started, pretty much relaxed, keeping her eyes on her hands. her voice like a psalm to him, his heart beating loudly in his chest, as he stilled, waiting for the right moment to turn around.

"i'm charlie", he shouldn't have said that. he should've kept it professional, but as soon as he turned around and his black eyes met her green ones, he felt that electricity go through his veins again. they were alone now, everyone has left the church, the silence comfortable for both of them. y/n looked up at the much taller man, the dim candle lights made his face glow, and she thought he was absolutely mesmerising. his full lips curled into a small smirk, his eyes following her every move, and she couldn't help but smile too.

"i have never seen you before, y/n", he noticed carefully, leaning against the altar, the veins in his hands popping out, and her eyes wandered on them for a little too long. she crossed her arms on her chest, the cold air hitting her skin with a sudden force, and she shrugged.

"the truth is, father... i want to confess. kind of", she hesitated, the big cross behind charlie's head making her question everything. god doesn't judge us, she thought, convincing herself. "maybe we could talk somewhere more... private? if you're okay with it", she corrected herself quickly, though her confidence never faded, even for a second. the determination visible in her eyes, and charlie got lost in her for a second, his own eyes sparking with something very unfamiliar to him. that was both exciting and... thrilling.

"whatever you need, y/n", he said wholeheartedly, "do you want me to drive you home?" the words left his mouth before he could think about them, and she opened her mouth in shock. pink blush adoring her cheeks, her lashes fluttering, the tension in her lower stomach getting more intense by each passing second.

"yes, i would very much enjoy that".

about twenty minutes later charlie and y/n pulled up by the girl's house. a comfortable silence was followed by a quiet sigh falling out of y/n's mouth.

"thank you so much, father", she whispered, eyes on his side profile, and she couldn't help but notice the way his strong, defined jaw clenched at her words.

"call me charlie", he replied simply, hands on the steering wheel, as he kept his eyes on the driveway.

"okay, then..." y/n breathed out, playful smile on her lips. "thank you, charlie", she corrected herself, and pressed her back against the passenger door. the corner of his mouth twitched, and his head turned to look at her.

she looked like a goddess, charlie thought, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of her creamy thighs on full display. her short and tight dress has ridden up her thighs, her hair slightly messy, but still shiny and silky. her boobs tightly pressed together because of the arms resting comfortably on her chest. and her face looked angelic. charlie was mesmerised by her beauty, the urge to touch her now stronger than ever.

"i shall keep going", he cleared his throat, voice slightly shaky as he spoke.

"do you want to come in?", the words left her mouth before she had the time to think it through.

charlie tilted his head and looked at her with a devilish look in his dark eyes. she smiled softly, and shifted on her seat slightly, her predatory gaze focused on his serious face.

"of course", he replied simply and opened the door on his right, leaving the car quickly. she got up right after he did, and they walked together towards her apartment.

she unlocked the door to her apartment and welcomed him in with a quick smile.

"feel yourself at home", she said softly, leaning back against the wardrobe in the interior. she watched him take off his coat, his muscles tensing as he moved around. she bit her lip involuntarily, unholy images in her head.

charlie complimented y/n's apartment as they walked towards her room, a bottle of french wine in her hand.

she closed the door behind them, and she pointed towards a chair next to her bed. charlie sat down comfortably, leaning back, his legs spread wide as if he was inviting her to come between them.

"let me get changed real quick", she said, looking at herself in the mirror. the tight dress sitting perfectly on her figure, but she was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in it. she took off her platform shoes and looked at charlie, who was already staring.

he smiled slightly and closed his eyes to give her the possibility to change comfortably. but she reacted quickly, heart beating loudly in her chest.

"don't cover your eyes, charlie", her voice barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the quietness of her room, he wouldn't hear her. but he most definitely did. he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, and his eyes opened, so did his mouth, charlie's breathing uneven.

"i really shouldn't", he said after a second or two. his purity ring glistened in the dim lightning, and he reminded himself who he was.

he took the vows. he wasn't just a man; he was a priest, god's messenger, but the urge to look at her was too strong. she smiled kindly, as if she was doing something completely innocent, but he wasn't fooled. she was a devil, sent by god to test his loyality to him. yet, he couldn't bring himself to care. his cock grew stiff in his tight dress pants, longing to feel a touch of another human, any ounce of self control leaving his body.

y/n turned toward the mirror and put her hair over one of her shoulders. "i need some help", she smiled, referring to zipper of the dress. charlie nodded his head and got up quickly, his muscular body now behind her as he stared at her in the mirror.

charlie, very slowly, let his fingers run through her covered back, and she shivered, her eyes closing just for a moment before they opened in pure bliss.

he pulled the zipper of her dress quickly, the material falling into the floor with a soft sound. she stood there, right in front of him in just a black, lacy, slightly seen-through underwear. charlie's breath hitched, his gaze more intense, as he shamelessly looked at her exposed body.

she bit her lip, her eyes meeting his' in the mirror, as she took a step back, only to lean against his hard chest. her head tilted back, deep sigh escaping her parted lips.

"you and me..." she whispered, keeping eye contact with him, while leaning further into him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. "we are the same. i could feel it the moment i saw you. the darkness inside of you..." she stopped for a moment, only to turn around, now facing him. yn's hands run over his chest, his breath heavy against her hands. "is fascinating. you are fascinating. and you're a sinner, just like me".

charlie bit his lip and looked in the mirror again. long black hair falling on her back in cascades and her perfect ass exposed only for him to see. his hands slowly travelled from her spine towards her arched lower back, and then he cupped her ass. she sighed, her hot breath tickling the skin on his jaw. charlie couldn't look away from the way y/n's back arched into his touch, and her head fell onto his shoulder.

"just like you, huh?" charlie chuckled lowly, his raspy voice sent a wave of arousal straight to her core. "or maybe, you're just a greedy little slut, ready to open her legs for me whenever i please?"

his words were followed by a sharp smack of his hand on her ass cheek, as she hissed loudly, devilish grin spreading on his face slowly. she stood on her tiptoes, brushing her nose against his, charlie's eyes fixated on her lips, as he smacked her ass again. this time, she whimpered. her eyes closed, body leaning into his touch, and a single moan left charlie's mouth at the sound of her.

with his hands still on y/n'a ass, he lifted her up easily, the bulge in his pants getting in contact with the thin material of her panties. charlie pressed her against the wall, her hands on his shoulders, as she challenged him with her eyes, the fire in his dark irises making her melt into his touch.

he closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time, and she moaned at the taste of him. he didn't rush, instead, he took his time to explore her mouth with his tongue, a strangled groan leaving his throat at the contact.

"you can deny it all you want, father", y/n's said breathlessly, but he didn't let her finish. his mouth was on her again, this time more demanding, intense and passionate, as he devoured her, soft, lewd sounds leaving both of their mouths, his fingers pressing into her soft thighs with enough force to leave bruises. "but you know i'm right. you might be a priest, but you're a really sinful one", she finished, charlie's mouth trailing kisses down her neck. y/n's eyes closed, her head falling back against the wall behind her.

obscene sound left charlie's mouth, her skin soft, and he carried y/n to her bed. she gasped in surprise as her back hit her soft, satin sheets; charlie standing in the foot of the bed, his eyes hungrily taking in the view in front of him.

"you are not a sin to me", he voiced, and y/n held her breath. a sincere smile on her face, as she took in the view in front of her. charlie looked wrecked, his cheeks red, lips slightly swollen, hair messy, a little smile adoring his face just right.

regret washed over her chest just for a moment, god is always watching. but as soon as father charlie fell to his knees, his hands pulling her to the edge of the bed with a swift move, her mind went blank.

he spread her legs wide, fingers pressing into her plush thighs, and he moaned at the sight of her. she was leaning back on her forearms, hair messed up, lips parted as she breathed heavily, and she let her hand touch his cheek softly, until her thumb met his mouth. charlie parted his lips, his heart thudding in his chest, his tongue reaching out to lick her finger.

y/n sat on the bed, her boobs now right in front of his face, as she inserted the finger into his mouth. they moaned in unison, and charlie's eyes fluttered shut, mouth closing around her thumb, sucking, licking and lightly biting at it.

her body shook as she watched the obscene scene, wetness coating her panties as his fingers dig deeper into her thighs, and yet another moan left charlie's mouth.

when y/n's thumb slipped out of his mouth with a "pop", he opened his eyes. he looked up at her desperately, and she smiled, her hand now resting on the back of his head, as she tugged at his hair roughly. charlie's brows furrowed, whimper left his mouth, his throat now on full display for her hungry eyes.

he got up from his knees as she gestured him to do so, and she led him to lay down on her bed, mouth immediately finding his, the hunger getting unbearable. charlie bit her lower lip, pulling at it, drawing blood from the little cut of his sharp teeth.

he greedily lapped at the red substance, the metallic taste making him moan into her mouth, as his hips thrusted into the air with shameless desperation.

y/n's fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she undid them with surprising precision, her mouth finding his hard chest as soon as he took the unwanted material from his body.

"you're such a slut", he groaned as she sucked at his nipple, a simple tug at her long hair making her moan shamelessly. he smiled devilishly at the feeling of her tongue swirling against the hard bud, and he tilted his head back, hair falling onto his sweaty face.

"givin' god a show, aren't you? what would he think if he saw you? so greedy to please your priest, 's embarrassing, really", he mumbled, putting her hair into a makeshift ponytail as her mouth got closer and closer to the bulge in his pants.

unable to take it no more, charlie flipped them over so that he was towering over her, his gold cross necklace hanging in front of her face. he tore the bra off her chest, his fingers immediately pulling at the soft skin of her boobs, fingers twisting at her nipples with newfound confidence and roughness. y/n whimpered his name softly, back arching into his chest, her lips already in search of his own.

charlie spread her legs open, fingers tugging at her panties, and she let him take them off her body. her cunt now exposed, his hungry eyes taking in the sight of her perfect body, and he cursed, mouth falling open at the sight of her wet pussy.

"you're so fucking disgusting", he exclaimed, rough hands travelling down her body, down her hips, thighs, and finally reaching the place where she needed him the most. "getting all wet for your priest. don't you feel ashamed?" he asked rhetorically, fingers brushing over her puffy folds, and she squealed as he toyed with her clit, pressing tight circles into it. y/n whined, her hands on his back, pressing into his wounds with enough force to draw blood. charlie hissed, and suddenly two of his his fingers slipped inside her clenching cunt.

"you're so tight", he almost whimpered, the clenching of her cunt on his fingers making it really hard for him to control the urge to straight up fuck her. "how am i supposed fit in here, hmm?"

he withdrew his fingers out of her pussy, only to force them in with an aggression that had y/n clenching even harder around him. charlie pressed his hot mouth against hers again, and she was unable to kiss him back, her mouth falling open, and charlie laughed, moving inside of her slowly.

"you won't ever be touched by another man again", he hissed with such venom that her eyes fell open, vision blurring from the feeling of slow thrusts of his fingers inside her wet pussy. "you", thrust. "are", thrust, "mine", thrust, and he moved at a rapid speed now, keeping eye contact with her, and she cried out, nodding her head mindlessly. "mine to worship. mine to cherish. mine to fuck", his thumb found her clit, and she was oh so close. she cried out, and he gave her a dirty, open mouthed smirk, his thrusts never slowing. charlie's head leaned down, and his lips found her perky nipple, closing around it, swirling his tongue swiftly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of her.

"oh my god, please", she let out, eyes finally flattering shut, back arching into his mouth, and he tutted, his mouth and fingers leaving her body altogether.

she cried out in protest, but before she could speak up, he tugged at her jaw and squeezed her cheeks, her lips pouting. "if you want to cum, you have to beg for it, like the desperate little slut you are" the vulgar words leaving his mouth making y/n nod her head desperately, the grasp on her jaw making it hard to move.

charlie smiled at the pathetic look in her eyes, and freed her face.

"i'm sorry, charlie. please, touch me again. i need you. i crave for you━ fuck, please", y/n begged, and he obeyed, cruel look in his eyes as his hand travelled down her heaving chest, down her stomach and finally reaching its destination.

charlie's fingers pushed into her tight cunt again, and she muttered a quiet "thank you", her hands finding his shoulders for balance, as his fingers disappeared into her over and over again, and she cried out, tears of pleasure coating her waterline.

"yeah, just like that, charlie, please", she welled, holding him close, the intense feeling in her lower stomach different from anything she's ever experienced, and her eyes fell open. "charlie..."

he pressed her body into his with a single tug at her hip, pressing open open mouthed kisses on her neck, tongue darting out to taste at her sweet skin, teeth biting at every ounce of her body he could reach.

"it's okay, pretty girl", he whispered, fingers pressing into her g point again and again, her tight cunt spasming in a way that had him throbbing in the tightness of his pants. "make a mess for me", that was the confirmation she needed, as she let go, transparent liquid gushing out of her cunt with every withdraw of his fingers. slowly wetting his hand, pants, the insides of her thighs and the velvet sheets under them.

she tried to get away from his tight grasp, but he held her down with his other hand, and his nose pressed into her hair, breathing her in slowly, whispering sweet nothings as she came down from her high.

she gasped in relief as his thick fingers left her pulsing walls, and he tapped them on y/n's lower lip.

"suck them clean for me", charlie cooed, and her mouth took him in gladly, swirling her tongue around his fingers, and then sucked them in until they hit the back of her throat.

"just like that, just like that" he groaned, fucking her mouth with his digits, and she gagged, her pussy starting to tingle yet again.

"i want to see you cumming on my cock", charlie exclaimed, struggling with the button of his pants, and y/n helped him, pushing them down along with his boxers.

her mouth fucking opened at the sight of his cock, the view so astonishingly beautiful and overwhelming, gasp leaving her parted lips, and he just laughed as if it was nothing.

y/n thought it was unreal, that he was unreal, his whole body belonging in a museum. before he had the time to react, she flipped them over and straddled his hips, fingers scratching at his chest.

"you are so fucking hot", y/n breathed out as she slowly rubbed her clit on his hard cock, and charlie's eyes rolled back, fingers digging into the reddened skin of her ass. "i can't control myself around you. you drive me fucking crazy, charlie", y/n almost cried out, the desperation in her voice driving charlie crazy. her moves slow and sensual, her moves snake-like, long nails digging into his skin.

"stop teasing me, y/n. come on, let's give god a show, shall we?", charlie's voice strangled as he chuckled lowly, and y/n smiled cruelly, her lips wandering around his neck, collarbones and chest, biting at his soft skin, moaning at the taste of his blood.

"what would god say if he saw you like this? giving into the temptation, betraying his trust and the church you work in, hmm?" she mumbled, teeth grazing over the gold cross sitting prettily on his chest, and charlie hissed, eyes meeting hers again, her movements on his cock getting harder and needier.

"you are the best thing that's happened to me, ever", charlie whispered wholeheartedly and reached for his cock, giving it a few pumps before sliding into y/n's tight cunt, moans filling the thick air around them as she clenched on his tip uncontrollably.

"you are so big, my god", a single tear ran down her cheek, charlie's thumb wiping it in an instant. "you wanted it, so fucking take it".

as the words left his mouth, he snapped his hips up and she fell forward, his whole length stretching her out like nothing she's ever experienced. he throbbed inside of her, and a satisfied moan left his mouth at the wetness and warmness of her insides.

y/n clinged to him, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest, fingers squeezing on his strong arms. the feeling of his body against her own made her lightheaded, and she whimpered into his neck.

"i'm never letting you go", he exclaimed, and her eyes found his as she began riding his cock slowly, the stretch deliciously painful. "you are mine. now and forever. fuck, ride me just like that" charlie breathed out, the rasp in his voice making her more desperate, as she took all of him inside over and over again, hands pressing into his chest, head lulling back.

the rhythm she set was driving charlie insane as she watched her with half lidded eyes, shameless moans leaving his mouth at the sight of her perky tits bouncing right on his face. he looked down at the place where they connected. the slow movements of her hips allowed him to see the wetness coating his dick as she slid down on him again, and she swore she could feel him in her throat from how big he was.

"you're my match made in hell", she moaned and pressed herself against him again, fingers tugging at his messy hair, nose pressing against his. in the moment the atmosphere changed, and his eyes softened just for a moment, smile adoring his face as he tugged at her long hair, and his hips rising up from the bed, meeting hers. he started thrusting into her, fast and hard, her ass snapping against his thighs again and again. charlie's hands gripped at her waist tightly as he lifted her up just barely, the slight change of angle allowing him to move at a rapid speed. y/n cried out, not having any control of her body as he manhandled her. desperately, she smashed her lips against his, charlie's tongue entering her mouth instantly, and he moaned at the taste of her, and he thrusted again, again and again.

"i want to cum with you, charlie", she whispered, tears coating her face, smudged makeup making her look even more beautiful for him, as he bottomed out fully.

she welled when her cock left her, and the next second she was on her knees, facing the mirror in an instant. her eyes widened at the sight of herself, completely ruined and fucked up just for him to see. then she looked at charlie, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, as he pumped his cock behind her, the veins on his arms showing. "god, help me. you are gonna be the death of me", he hissed, his thick cock throbbing in his tight grasp. y/n backed herself against him, signalling that she wanted, no, she needed more.

"please, no more teasing," she begged, reaching for his cock behind her, but charlie was quick to stop her, smacking her hand away, as he aligned himself against her used hole once again.

"look at me", he whispered into her ear as his girthy length pressed into her tightness again, and she did, her head lulling back against his shoulder. he slowly moved in and out, every thrust precise, his soulless eyes staring into hers in the mirror, the sight making her clench around him. "you're fucking ruined for me, my beautiful girl, makin' me feel so good", he cooed, one hand landing on her lower back, pushing her upper body down onto the bed, the arch he created letting him hit that spongy spot inside of her over and over again. y/n cried out, his movements still teasing and unbearably slow, and her hips trying to buck back into him. charlie groaned with disapproval, his hand yanking at her hair roughly, her ass pressing tightly against his lower stomach.

"stop. fucking. moving", he hissed, voice like venom, and she nodded her head furiously, "i'm sorry" leaving her mouth over and over again like a prayer. her hand reached back to tangle itself in his messy hair, and she looked up at him, his eyes half-closed as he kept thrusting into her, and he let go of her hair only to wrap his fingers around her neck, pressing onto her pulse tightly. y/n cried out, and charlie's other hand held her jaw open slightly.

"open your mouth for me, just like that", he praised, y/n mouth fell open at the command, tongue lolling out of her mouth without a thought. and when he spit into her mouth, keeping eye contact with her during the vulgar act, thrusting into her harder than ever, she swore she could see stars. y/n swallowed his spit quickly, shameless moan leaving her mouth at the feeling of warm liquid, and in that moment she felt so deeply connected with him, and her eyes softened, heart aching for him as she got closer and closer to her climax.

"charlie, i'm gonna cum", y/n's voice came out strangled, his hand on her neck making it hard for her to breathe. her hands tugging at his own in search of closeness, and he took her hands into his much bigger ones, a single thrust of his hips making her fall down onto the bed again. he held her hands down on her lower back, his throbbing cock ruining her insides, and she screamed, burying her head into the sheets, finally falling over the edge.

y/n clenched around him, making it hard for him to move, and charlie hissed, letting go of her hands as he thrusted into her slowly, fucking her through her orgasm. he held back a whine threatening to leave his throat, dick twitching in search of release as she came down from her own, crying into the sheets.

"you're doing so good for me, y/n. i'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, and you're gonna let me, yeah?" his chest pressed against hers, and she was unable to reply, overstimulated and spent, his cock kissing her g spot repeatedly. charlie grabbed her chin, pressing his lips against hers, slowly and passionately, as he gripped at her ass and moaned, balls pressing into her clit as he clinged to her, finally letting go.

charlie whimpered into y/n's mouth as he came, painting her inner walls white with his cum, marking her as his for life. his body shook slightly, and she whined softly, the feeling of his cock filling her up immaculate.

charlie broke the kiss, pressing his face into the back of her neck tightly, his cock never softening inside of her, even after the soul crashing orgasm he just experienced. she smiled, the moment so important to her, and she reached out to run her fingers through his wet hair, and she's never felt more safe in her life.

after a few seconds charlie got up, his whole body tense as his throbbing cock left her spent hole. she whined at the loss, and then turned around to face him, barely being able to move, face flushed and covered in tears.

even though she had no energy left inside of her, the sight of his pretty cock, standing tall and proud in the air, covered in both of their releases, woke up something inside of her.

"lay down for me", she whispered, fingers brushing against his cheek softly, and he nodded, his scarred back pressing against the sheets again.

"your cock 's so pretty", y/n wrapped her hand around him, eyes filled with adoration, and charlie's eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, his head falling back involuntarily.

"holy shit, baby", he whimpered and let his hands roam against her thighs as she kneeled beside him. "'s too much", he cried out, submitting to her completely, the pain from overstimulation adding to his pleasure.

y/n cooed, and she leaned down, kitten licking at his tip, moaning at the taste of his pearly cum. "god, you taste so fucking good. i need your cum down my throat", she exclaimed, taking his tip into her mouth, and his hips thrusted wildly. y/n gagged, her desperate moan vibrating against his shaft, and he held her hair in a tight grasp, groan leaving his throat.

"you're perfect, god. where have you been all my life? holy shit━ i need this so fucking bad", charlie mumbled nonsense as y/n took him into her mouth fully, throat contracting against him, and he had to bit at his lip to physically stop himself from crying out. y/n's soft hands caressed his hips, and she sucked and licked at his pink tip as if he was a lollipop, her eyes falling open just to focus on his pretty face.

"i'm coming. god, i'm coming, please" charlie whined, and she nodded, sucking at his leaking tip with desperation, his cock twitching weakly as he thrusted into her mouth. warm cum filled her mouth, and she kept on sucking him dry as he came down, his body shaking terribly, endless moans leaving his mouth.

softly pulling away from his now softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing all of his heavenly cum, her throat sore.

she let herself fall next to him on the bed, his hands pulling at her soft skin with a need of closeness. he wrapped a protective arm around her shaking body, her head resting against his chest comfortably.

"you know, i meant everything i said", she said after a few minutes, tracing circles on his broad chest, smile never leaving her face.

"i know, baby. i know" he cooed, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead as she melted into him. "i meant everything too. you are so precious to me, so special", he whispered softly, warmness spreading across his body as he thought about the things they could achieve together, how she could help him with what he was planning.

and he wondered if her soul was as wounded as his own. the sickness of his mind, was she really ready to accept him just as he was? she won't have no choice, he thought, because she will be mine forever. no matter what it takes.

[tritoch]

the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.

So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!

My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.

I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."

I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.

Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.

Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.

As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.

Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.

Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.

Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.

And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.

and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!

[spacelazarwolf]

apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.