#finances never stop aching ; ;

[kagedbird]

OKAY. Got a bit to yap about.

This month is looking rough all ready for funds. Two weeks in and I haven't even gotten a third of what I need for rent. I'm at 240$ out of 1,130$. That's REALLY bad. Work has been too light for peak season.

Just as well, I FINALLY found someone who's not a dick bag and offering a car for a decent sum of money and is getting it serviced to fix its problems and is willing to let me know how that servicing comes out to be.

They need to fix a motor in the window (driver side I think) and were very kind when chatting with me. That's about 3,350$. I have nothing saved for that and only have until mid November to get someone to drive me out there to them so I can pick up the car.

IN SHORT, I DESPERATELY NEED CASH. I know I am always begging for cash, and I am so sorry for that, I get it if you're tired of me begging, but I am too. Having this car would mean I could stop paying so much for Uber / Lyfts, food delivery, could work longer hours (should my body actually hold), and if worse comes to worse, live in it. I could even BECOME an Uber / Lyft driver, should I have the need to.

Now, just as a reminder, the 3,350$ is ONLY for purchasing the car. That's not including DMV visits, taxes, gas, and anything else I might need on top of that— as well as getting an actual ID / license for this state since I wasn't able to do that before elections. If we could shoot for 4,500$ that could probably cover a lot.

The car is a Jeep Liberty 2003, Sport Utility 4D.

Very good size with a large enough trunk (hopefully) for all my shit if worse comes to worse.

I'm very scared and don't like making fundraiser posts like this, but I'm going to be working on actually finishing the comms I've had sitting for a hot minute so I can reopen them and get some money that way too.

If you'd like to wait for that in order to get something for your money, perfectly fine! Otherwise, I have two options:

Car dono link:

Airbnb dono link:

You can also use my KOFI here if Paypal isn't to your taste!

And if you can't, reblogging to get the word out is just as well. Thank you, and I hope your financial situations are far kinder than mine!

[yandere-romanticaa]

Marriage was often used as a tool of convenience - be it to upgrade one's own social status, get some much needed silver and gold, or to just get one leg up over your enemies, it really did not matter in the end.

Like it or not, you were tied to that person till death did you part.

That was a chant that has been sung to you ever since you came out of your weeping mother's womb. As the daughter of the household, it was natural for you to wed one day. However, the family was one of average standing, it had no special titles tacked onto it nor did it have any grotesque reputation which could sully it to the darkness and back. In its own way, it was oddly blissful, being invisible like that. No one expected you to act like a stuck up lady who would be locked away deep in a tower and you were also safe from becoming a measley wench who would be forced to spend the rest of her miserable days stuck rolling around in the mud, selling her body to all sorts of horrific strangers just in order to eat for a day.

You had the privilege of being born into a happy life. Perhaps a slightly dull one sometimes but regardless, a good one at that. You were content with everything which was given to you, perhaps even happy.

However, all things come to an end, and your end came in the form of a man riding on horseback.

He was strong, capable, handsome... But you kept that thought to yourself as you helped the wounded stranger get back on his feet, his midnight black steed happily trotting away somewhere as it accidentally shook the rider off its back once it locked eyes on you, a stranger in the woods.

"And who might you be?" asked the dark haired man, his curly hair framing his pale face so wonderfully that it took the breath from your lungs away.

You held onto him tightly and pressed him close to your body, the odor of blood and sweat covering him from top to bottom but you couldn't be bothered to care. He wore simple clothing which made you think that he was in a similar position like yourself in terms of finance, which gave you a slight glimmer of hope.

It was embarrassing how much you were swooning over the stranger.

Taking him back to your hut took longer than expected but all was well in the end. The handsome stranger had a name, Robb he said it was, and you couldn't hide the adoration in your voice whenever he would speak to you. The night flew by like a summer breeze - too fast and too sweet. Come first daylight he had to leave, which you understood.

That didn't stop you from feeling a little blue.

He mounted his horse like a knight in shining armor, its mane tussling proudly in the bitter north wind as Robb looked down at you, his warm blue eyes desperate to tell you many stories and secrets, but time was cruel and scarce.

He would come back to you, he promised.

And you gave him a smile sweeter than any juicy fruit, telling him that you would gladly wait for him.

He rode away all the while looking back at you, sending you a heart stopping smile which could make anyone weak in the knees. The horse left large hoofprints in the snow and you focused your attention on that, rather than the bitter stabs of pain in your heart.

There would never be a day when you'd see Robb ever again.

You were due to leave for the South in a few weeks time, in order to finally be wed off. The fantasy of Robb was saccharine and enchanting, many hours of sleep were lost due to him. Even if you barely knew him, the matters of the heart were reckless and stupid.

The heart wants what it wants and your heart ached for Robb.

All the while, you hadn't a clue of him and his plans. The men in Winterfell grew tired of his constant ramblings of this lovely woman he met, this sweet little thing which made his heart sing like no one else. He would walk in the corridors with a pep in his step as he thought of all the ways he could take you back to his home and give you the life you deserved.

His candied tirade quickly came to an abrupt halt once his mother had informed him of the grave news, that you had been promised to another man.

Robb was furious.

Who was this man?! Who did he think he is?! Ever the meticulous man, he got to work immediately. In less than a few days he had managed to gather all the information he could on this mystery fiance of yours, all the papers sprawled across his massive table. The candles in his chambers glimmered gently, the shimmering light a stark contrast to the raging flames in his heart.

If he could have his way, he'd be out for blood. Robb was too much of a jealous man for his own good but he needed to think, he needed to prepare if he wanted to do this right.

In less than a day, he had everything set up. If the man wasn't willing to take the gold he was offering him, he was not above using any scare tactics. His anger ended up getting the better of him though, so a bizarre combination of both was used.

The way in which your fiance left you made your heart sink. How were you going to break the news to your parents? Whatever could you have done so wrong to earn the ire of this lord whom you haven't even met yet...

You weep in your room, staining the mattress with your salty tears, completely oblivious to the small cavalry with House Stark banners raging on your front door.

Robb Stark had come for his bride. And she had no idea what sort of future awaited her...

[blueicequeen19]

Control

Warnings: public cock warming, public unprotected sex, degrading, praise, Frat Boy Rafe 🔥

I didn’t object to Rafe pulling me onto his lap, trapping me between him and the table. I didn’t object when his hand started to trace circles along my inner thigh under my plaid skirt as he continued to read his book with his free hand. I didn’t even object when he began to palm my aching bare pussy. He’d made me take my panties off before we came and tuck them in his pocket. You didn’t complain when you were dating Rafe Cameron. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. And if he wanted to fuck you in the silent library, surrounded by his college peers then you let him.

I tried to be a good girl and not shift too much on his lap but it was hard with the way his skilled fingers kept stroking my clit until my pussy and thighs were absolutely soaked.

“Rafe.” I whispered, my head against his shoulder.

“Don’t move.” Rafe instructed in a whisper, never looking up from his book. I glanced around but no one was looking up or noticed. Everyone had their nose in a book, deep in concentration. The only way they could see what was happening was if they looked under the table. But I still had to remain quiet.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down even as he reached lower and buried two fingers inside me. I clamped my mouth shut, turning my head and attempting to plead with him with my eyes but he didn’t even look up from his book. A minute passed and his fingers didn’t move. I was starting to become delirious with need. I was about to start begging in front of all these people when his thumb pressed against my clit. My body jerked against the table but no one looked up, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

“I told you not to move.” Rafe finally spoke again in my ear, his voice low in warning.

“Rafe, please, let’s go somewhere.” I hissed back, my hands gripping the table to keep myself from grinding against his fingers.

“No, I have to study.” Rafe said, turning back to his book. I was going to die. I was going to cum in front of his peers and die of humiliation and maybe even a heart attack. I couldn’t catch my breath.

“Reach behind you and undo my pants.” Rafe murmurs softly in my ear. Oh god.

My hands shake as I do as instructed, his cock springing free the moment his button releases. He wasn’t wearing boxers. I try to bring my hands back around but Rafe curls his fingers inside me, making me gasp and jerk against him. Still, no one looks up or pays us any mind.

“Stand up and take a drink of your water then sit back down on my cock.” Rafe instructs, his low voice like a caress down my spine. He removes his fingers from inside me as I plant my feet on the floor and push myself up to reach for my water bottle. I take a small sip as I feel him guide his cock between my legs and to my soaked entrance.

“Rafe?” I startle, looking to one of his friends across the table who’s trying to get his attention. I’m afraid to move but Rafe’s fingers nudge my thigh, telling me to sit down.

“Yea?” Rafe asks, like I’m not about to sit down on his cock in front of all his peers. Rafe sits his book down to grab my thigh under the table and forces me to sit. The hardest thing I’d ever encountered was resisting the urge to let my eyes roll into the back of my head as he filled me. His cock was so thick and hard that I couldn’t think.

I could barely lean forward enough to grab my book but it only made him reach a different angle and I stopped abruptly, my inner walls spasming and my bottom lip quivers. The pleasure was so intense I felt like I was going to cry.

“Did you get the finance worksheet done?” Rafe’s friend asks. Rafe’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me firmly against his chest as he picks up his book again. I raise my own book to hide my face. They engage in conversation about homework in low voices so not to draw negative attention from the librarian all while I’m on the verge of unraveling. I could feel his cock pulsing inside me. Just as ravenous as I was.

Finally, Rafe relaxes into his seat and widens his legs, only driving his cock deeper. I let the book rest against my forehead to keep from moaning. I could feel sweat running down my back and on the back of my neck. I reach down to slide my hand under my skirt to take the edge off, to hell with these people, when Rafe’s hand suddenly snatches my wrist, holding it firmly against my side.

“Behave and I’ll let you finish.” Rafe murmurs into my ear, his breath on my skin giving me goosebumps and making me clench around him. The teasing was driving me mad. I needed to move. I needed to rock back and forth between bounces on his cock. I needed him to slap my pussy as I chased my release. I needed..

“Easy. You’re tightening around me. Wouldn’t want me to get mine without yours, would you?” Rafe taunts in my ear. My nostrils flare and I debate standing. To hell with this.

Just then a book slams shut and one of his friends announces it’s time to get something to eat. The rest follow suit except one girl who looks between us, her murderous glare landing on me before she follows the rest of them. I suddenly felt privileged to be sitting on Rafe’s cock out in the open if it brought the jealous bitch some misery.

Now that we’re alone, Rafe sits his book down and wraps his free arm around my waist. My heart rate kicks into high gear as he positions my legs on either side of his, opening me obscenely wide while immobilizing me.

“R-Rafe—.” I start, my body beginning to tremble.

“Take your panties from my pocket and put them in your mouth. I know you’re a desperate little bitch but I need you to be quiet.” Rafe murmurs, his hand sliding between my legs to stroke my clit. I buck and whimper as I reach back with a shaky hand and dig my panties from his jacket pocket. This was so degrading but I didn’t care. His cock was so hard inside me and rubbing against places that threatened to send me to another dimension. If he wanted me to put my own panties in my mouth, I would.

“Good girl.” Rafe purred, lightly slapping his hand against my pussy. My body seized and I gripped the table for dear life. Anyone could walk around the corner and catch us. We could be expelled.

All thoughts left me as Rafe begin to move, slowly pumping his cock in and out of me like his soul purpose in life was to see me lose control.

“Fuck yes.” Rafe breathed, pumping his hips harder and faster. The sound of my arousal was obvious with every push and pull of his thick cock. The thought of being caught only made me more wet. I was right there. Right. There.

“Put your feet on the floor and grab the table.” Rafe suddenly says, helping me maneuver my shaking legs over his to reach the floor. My body tightened around his again as I brought my legs together, tears filling my eyes as I did as I was told.

“Lift up just a little and hold it. Don’t move.” Rafe rasps, his voice thick with need too. Good. I wanted this to drive him just as crazy.

The moment I used the table to lift myself up, he started to fuck me hard and fast, his pelvis slamming against my ass where he yanked my skirt up. I buried my face against my arm to keep from making any noises even with my own panties in my mouth as he pistoned into me, using his hands on my hips to pull me back into every thrust. All while he stayed sitting down.

“Cum you little slut. Let me feel it drip down to my fucking balls.” I didn’t have to be told twice. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my body seizing and convulsing as he ripped the most intense orgasm of my life from my body. I knew I’d made a mess. I faintly heard a small gasp that I knew hadn’t came from me so I lifted my eyes to find the mean girl from earlier watching us with wide eyes and her hand over her mouth. I smiled at her just as Rafe huffed a breath and spilled inside me, flooding my insides with his warmth.

“Goddamn.” Rafe breathed, pulling me back against him as the evidence of what we’d just done drips from me. The girl turns and flees and that makes me happier.

“How about you get underneath this table and clean up our mess then we’ll go get dinner?” Rafe whispers in my ear, his hand sliding between us to cup where we’re still connected. I turn my head to face him and he pulls my panties from my mouth and kisses me hard. I begin to rock my hips again, my cares from earlier completely forgotten about as I chase another high. Rafe pulls back from the kiss to smirk at me, his hand sliding lower to force two fingers inside me along with his cock. I wince. The stretch too much but too good to stop.

“Greedy fucking slut. One more then you’re going to lap up this mess.” Rafe breathes, kissing me again to silence me as I fall apart again.

If he wanted me to crawl naked on broken glass just to taste him.. I would.

You didn’t tell Rafe Cameron no.

[oracle-of-dream]

(switch ceo!jay request!) (sub/bttm leaning) ceo!jay who was being escorted out of an event after drunk man jumped on stage while giving his speech, almost successfully attacking jay if not for the reader stopping him in time. heading home, jay felt tired and took a shower, after getting out he sees the reader on the couch and decides to sit beside him, while doing so he finds a bruise on his forearm, feeling guilty he offers to nurse it himself, the readwr refuses but after a bit of back and forth he managed to get the reader to sit sitll while he gets an icepack. and while they're sitting there, they just casually have a conversation, making intense eye contact, the readers staring at jay's lips which he notices. one thing leads to another, and suddenly they're making out.

u can decide how the smut part will go 😭 i'm not very good at it, but ik and can trust in ur abilities! pls take ur time, have a wonderful day and i hope ur not feeling pressured w all the requests coming in! :]

CEO's Bodyguard

Summary: It's your job to keep Jay safe. It's another large-scale meeting with many guests–more like potential hazards. Keep him safe, and bring him home. That's all you're concerned about.

Warnings: Male Reader, CEO!Jay, Bodyguard!Reader, Slight Violence, Blowjob (Jay Rec.), Cum swallowing, Forced Deepthroat, Begging, Control Switching/Power dynamics, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Breeding

Wordcount: 3.59k

"Welcome, and thank you all for coming," Jay said. The room gave applause to receive him. He raised his hand to silence the room. Jay led into his speech, which he'd practiced multiple times while you drove him from place to place. You'd heard it what felt like a hundred times. Your knees and back ached from standing for so long. It was necessary for Jay's safety, you're number one priority. Most of your duties were more like being Jay's secretary, even as his bodyguard he always gave you tasks to take it easy on you.

You've worked for Jay over the last year and a half. Jay's father became unable to lead his company anymore, forcing Jay to take over. As a young CEO, more than a few people were willing to try and take advantage of him. Jay's nature, or his hate for people attempting to manipulate him, has made him enemies who would rather see him removed from power. Jay started hiring bodyguards a while ago but ended up firing each after a few weeks. The interview process was invasive and dismissive; a one-on-one meeting with Jay. Alone. He probed you with strange and meticulous questions; ranging from your family and friends to your finances. Jay always seemed to know more about everything than everyone else. He was extremely well-informed and investigated you for your interview. But the last question was the one that stuck out to you.

"Finally, y/n. This is your last question. If our lives get entangled, closer than originally anticipated, would you still be able to do your job?" Jay asked.

You tilted your head. "Entangled how?"

"...If you were to, seek a deeper relationship with me."

You straightened up rigidly. "O-Oh! I'd never dream of it, sir! I must protect you."

"But, if it were to happen, will it impede your work."

"Never! I'd protect you, in whatever situation!" You were a little desperate for a job, and more than willing to say whatever you needed to. You didn't think twice about it when you said it, but afterward, you couldn't stop thinking about the response you'd given. Or, why would he ask a question like that?

You were so lost in thought, you didn't realize someone was approaching the stage! A man, clearly drunk, stumbled as he made his way up the stairs behind the stage. Jay was so focused on his speech that he wasn't aware, not that it was his responsibility to be... There was no time to rush backstage and run after the man, you'd have to approach from the front!

You rushed the stage. Jay's eyes snapped to you, he maintained his cool but you could sense his concern. You jumped on stage, rolling cleanly, and you stood between Jay and the man.

"You don't deserve that spot!" He shouted as he swung at Jay.

You blocked the man's swing. He grabbed your other arm and twisted it, making you grit your teeth as you connected a blow to the man's head and his head slammed into your chin. The man fell to the ground and you caught him. You kept the man from hitting his head and dragged him away. Jay cracked a joke about the man having too much to drink and carried on with his speech, this time with you standing at a distance behind him on stage. As he concluded his speech, you directed him offstage.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the unconscious man. "What was that about?"

"Just someone who had a bit too much to drink. Let's get home, for now, sir. You've got an early morning tomorrow."

Jay sighed. "Of course I do..." You guided him to the exit, and your employer said their goodbyes to his business partners. He was always so good at keeping a smile, even when he was more than a bit exhausted. You'd seen him run on no sleep for almost two days, having back-to-back meetings all day, and still kept his face up. The night sky was empty, the stars hidden behind the skyscrapers. Jay looked up at the sky, searching, as you had a valet bring the car forward.

Jay spoke without looking back to the ground. "Do you ever think about what it would be like to see a star up close, y/n?"

"I don't think I have, sir."

"I think... It would be the most beautiful thing ever." You didn't know how to respond, especially when he got into moods like this. It didn't happen often in front of you, but maybe it was a sign that he was getting comfortable around you. Sometimes he'd ask you philosophical questions throughout an entire car ride, most rhetorical as he knew you didn't know what to say.

The two of you stood in silence until the car arrived. Following protocol, you scanned the inside and outside for anything suspicious. Once you confirmed its safety, you opened the door for Jay and allowed him into the car. In the driver's seat, the car was programmed to navigate you back to Jay's penthouse. You drove without a word, but the pain in your jaw kept flaring every few minutes... That bastard might've bruised your jaw or even broken a tooth. Another thing to take care of now...

"You okay?"

Jay's voice snapped you out of the autopilot you were in. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you need?"

"You keep touching your chin and rolling your jaw. Are you okay?"

You could see Jay staring at you in the mirror. "It's nothing to worry about. I think I just scratched myself earlier."

Jay's eyebrows furrowed but he turned and looked out the window. "I can't have my bodyguard getting banged up. If you're not able to take care of yourself, who will protect me?"

"If I remember correctly. When you hired me, you told me you didn't need me."

Jay scoffed. "Well, at the time I didn't. But things changed, and now I do. Is that an issue?"

"No, sir."

"That's what I thought." Jay crossed his arms. "If you've got an issue with our arrangement, then speak and we can have it amended." You chuckled softly. He was the cutest when getting protective over you, but also somehow defensive when you called him out on it.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Jay drifted off to sleep, softly snoring in the back seat. His soft caramel skin and slicked-back dark hair shined in the streetlights that passed. His cold expression melted away to reveal the man you knew. This was when he was the most authentic, silently sleeping. No cameras, phone calls, meetings, or clients, just Jay being alone with himself–and you, of course. Originally you thought it was weird to sleep in the same house as Jay, insisting that he'd be safe in his home alone but when he offered double your salary to move in you couldn't refuse.

As you pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park, Jay stirred from his sleep. He stretched and wiped the sleep from his eyes, acting like he'd been awake the whole time. "Jesus, that felt like forever, I'm glad to finally be back home."

You nodded as you opened his door from him. "Of course sir, I apologize about how long it took to get you back home safely."

He looked at you, reaching out but hesitating. "It's not your fault. It's just traffic." He yawned. "Let's just go." You tried to hold it in, but couldn't stop your body's reaction to also yawn. As your jaw stretched open and you breathed deeply, you winced softly as your jaw faltered in pain. Jay's eyes widened. "I knew you were just trying to be tough. He did end up hurting you..." His face moved to a pained expression as his eyes scrolled over you, looking for more injuries.

"Sir, it's nothing. Just some soreness."

He held up his hand, silencing you. "You'll let me take care of that. Now. I won't have you complaining about it tomorrow." When Jay was insistent there was no turning him around from what he wanted, even as you protested. He led you inside, upstairs to his bedroom. "Sit on the bed, I have medicine in my bathroom."

As he drifted off into the bathroom, you moved near the bed obediently but awkwardly sat next to it. You knew Jay was a clean person, he would be bothered if your dirty clothes messed up his sheets. Jay's bedroom was one of the biggest rooms in the house. It was painted a dark gray with a monochrome color scheme. all of the artwork he'd made was on his walls, matching the darkly colored motif of the room. Even though it was all so dark, there was so much emotion poured into it, you couldn't help but smile slightly.

After a few minutes, Jay emerged from the bathroom in different clothes with a first aid kit. He wore a large dress shirt and flowy pajama pants, and his hair was slightly damp from rinsing out the product in it. He sat on the bed. "What are you doing on the floor?"

"My clothes are dirty."

"Then I'll come down."

"The floor isn't clean. You'll get your pajamas dirty, you can apply the medicine up there. I'll sit tall." You sat on your knees, back straight, looking up at Jay as you waited for him to begin applying medicine.

He rolled his eyes as he opened the medicine box. He started applying medicine to your jaw with his left hand while his right gently held your face in place. "You really should be more careful." He experimentally dragged his finger along your jaw until he hit the spot, making you wince away from him. "I... care about you."

"That's very kind, sir."

Jay gritted his teeth. "Y/n. The rules."

"Sorry... Jay." It was a part of the house rules that while you lived there, at home specifically. You weren't allowed to call him sir or mister. You were required to refer to him as Jay.

"It's okay. And I'm glad you're doing your job, but it's not often I see you getting injured."

"I was just a little distracted today. It won't happen again."

He raised an eyebrow. "You, distracted? By what?"

You looked Jay in his eyes. "Your speech. It was really captivating. I couldn't stop listening."

Jay's mouth parted softly as he looked away, focusing on your jaw. "Well, I'm glad you liked it."

"You're really persuasive. And your speaking voice is always so clear, it's hard not to listen closely."

"Y/n..."

You continued. "Even the way you were styled today really brought you to the centerpiece of the whole event."

"Y/n. Stop talking. That's an order." Your mouth was filled with cement, unable to speak–even breathing was difficult. "You know I'm not very good with compliments..." Jay tucked his hair behind his ear. "It makes me shy."

You blinked slowly, watching Jay's careful expression.

Jay avoided your eyes, leaning in to look closer at your chin–leaving only a few inches between you. "Is there anywhere else it hurts?"

You shook your head.

"Honest?"

You nodded.

Jay scratched his ear. "I don't believe you... I just want to–" Jay hesitated at touching your collar. "C-Can I... unbutton your shirt a little? Just to see." You reply by sitting up taller, raising your chest out to Jay. His hands slightly shook as he undid the first few buttons at the top of your shirt, sliding your tie off too. He opened it, revealing your bare chest to him. His fingertips ghosted over your skin before pulling away. "Y/n, I think I'm close to making a decision that I don't know how to make. What should I do?"

"What decision, Jay?"

"I think I..." Jay hesitated biting his lip. "I think I want to be closer to you."

"Closer to me? Like how?"

Jay rolled his eyes as his cheeks turned a soft pink. "Jesus Christ, y/n! You really need me to spell it out!?" Jay took your hands and guided them to the buttons on his shirt. "Undo them," He commanded.

"Jay–"

"Please don't make me say it twice." You focused on unbuttoning Jay's shirt, as you slid it down past his shoulders and revealed his bare torso. His hips rolled up slightly, pointing out the hard cock that throbbed inside his pants. "You've got one chance to back out. If you don't want to go further, say it and we'll pretend like this never happened," Jay muttered as his eyes dropped to the floor.

"I'm so honored you'd consider me, sir. I don't think I'm worthy of you... But if you want to have me tonight, then I am more than willing."

Jay's eyes locked with yours before his gaze dropped to your lips. "Don't call me sir," He mumbled before leaning in for a kiss.

Jay's lips were plush pillows that bounced off your lips. He placed his hands on your shoulders, fingers tensing and gripping your skin as you deepened the kiss. Your hands threaded into Jay's hair, still slightly wet, which earned a moan from your boss. He pulled away from the kiss, wide-eyed and pink-faced.

"I-I didn't– That wasn't me!"

"Then who was it?" You chuckled.

"I don't know!" Jay hit your shoulder. "Just hurry up and do the next part." Jay laid on his back with his eyes closed.

"The next part?"

Jay lifted himself on his elbows. "Aren't you going to stick it in me?"

"You wanted me to fuck you?!"

"You're getting that now!?" Jay facepalmed. "I'm not very experienced with a man, so I don't know how to do this... So, help me please." His pupils dilated as he begged for you. Jay had never been so vulnerable with you before, and you couldn't lie that it was turning you on more than you thought it would. You'd imagined having sex with Jay but imagined him as more of a dominant top, or even a power bottom. but to see him so... submissive. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

"Did you prepare yourself at all? I don't want to just 'stick it in' and hurt you."

Jay covered his face. "Yes... That's what I was doing in the bathroom."

He was so cute. "Oh, so you planned on seducing me tonight then?"

"Y/n, I swear, if you don't hurry up and fuck me. I'll fire you right now."

You smiled. "Oh? Jay, I thought the rules of the house were that we're equal here. Aren't we supposed to treat each other nicely?" He grunted. "Then how about some foreplay or something?"

"You can suck my dick with your foreplay," Jay spat. You smiled as you slipped his pants off in one motion, making your boss yelp as he covered himself. He was commando under his pants, and his cock was already leaking.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer." You smiled as you moved his hands from his crotch to your neck. His cock twitched in the air as you pulled Jay to a comfortable part of the edge of the bed, his legs hanging over the side. You slotted yourself in between his legs and kissed his tip. His knees twitched at your touch, brushing against your head. You kissed his tip a few more times, his pre-cum sticking to your lips.

"Hurry up already," He grunted. "In your mouth!" He pulled on your hair, pulling you down as you slowly took him into your mouth. "Ahh fuck, you're so warm!" His head fell back as he guided you to bob your head, pulling and pushing you as he liked. "Your mouth–it's warm! So wet, and tight too!" When his tip hit the back of your throat, you tensed as you felt the urge to gag which made your throat clamp down onto Jay's shape. "Oh fuck! That! Again, do that," Jay moaned as he forced your head down, forcing you to gag and gurgle on his cock. "I'll–I'm gonna cum! Please, swallow!" He grunted. You leaned forward, ready, as he spilled his load into your mouth. "Take it, swallow, drink it all!" Jay's voice got raspy and desperate as his eyes rolled back from the explosion in his head.

"I didn't think you'd finish that fast..." You wiped the spit from your mouth.

"Well, you didn't have to suck it. And you asked for foreplay..."

"I'm not complaining. Just, remember, I plan on cumming tonight too." You smirked at him. "You had your fun, but now I'll be in charge, okay?" Jay frowned but you weren't asking. Before you could give him the chance to ask any questions, you flipped him onto his stomach and slipped a finger inside him.

"Oh~ you could've given me a warning!" Jay moaned as he ground against your finger.

"You didn't need a warning. And, don't you think you should be grateful? I'm stretching you a little extra, just in case."

Jay scoffed. "Why? I said I did it, didn't I?"

A crack rang out as you spanked him. "Jay, where did your manners go?" Jay's jaw hung open, still reeling from being spanked. He'd never been spanked before, but his cock twitched from the pain.

"Again."

"Again, what?"

Jay groaned into the sheet. "Spank me again, please."

"What a nice boy," You cooed as you spanked him again, harder than before. "You're a good boy, aren't you? You just forgot your manners a bit." You spanked him again. "Beg for it."

Jay turned to look at you. "Are you loving this? Hitting and bossing me around? I'm not begging for shit." His hair was a mess, his skin glistened with sweat, and his ass was turning red.

"Jay~ don't misbehave. I'll have to punish you a bit." You reached forward and pulled Jay's hair, making him wince.

"W-Wait!"

"Manners."

"P-Please. Don't pull on it..." Jay begged softly.

You released his hair, kissing his neck as an apology. "Much better. Now, can you beg for cock? I want to hear you say it."

Jay remained silent. You gave him another smack for encouragement. "Fine! Y/n, please fuck me with your big cock!" You said nothing and rubbed Jay's ass softly. You didn't think he'd say it... "Oh fuck you! You wanted me to say it."

"Language," You warned. "If you wanted my cock so badly, that's all you needed to say." You pushed your tip into Jay's waiting hole.

"Oh, holy fuck, you're huge. It's so much..."

"Jay. That's just my tip."

Jay arched his back, waiting for you. "I know that! Your tip is just big!"

You pushed until you hilted Jay, burying your cock completely inside him. "You're squeezing like crazy, Jay."

Jay was a moaning mess under you. Even as he twitched around you, he made himself moan. "Oh, my–fuck me!" He shouted as you slid out before slamming back into him. Over and over, you pounded into him.

"Don't make me do all the work, Jay," You grunted as you pushed him forward. He held his breath as he moved himself on your cock, fucking himself into the mattress. "Can you try harder?" You pushed down on his back, making him hit that spot, making him scream louder. As soon as you found his spot, you took back cover as you fucked into it. "Wanna cum, Jay?" Jay let out a series of moans and groans, forming a semi-approving answer. "Ask for it then," You smirked as you pulled out completely, letting your cock rest on his ass.

"Y-Y/n! You can't–Please! Please! Let me cum on it, I'll cum from your cock so much. I'll even let you finish in me, just let me cum!"

"You said it, so I'll take that. Go ahead and cum then." You slammed back into Jay completely as his hole welcomed your cock with a tight squeeze. Jay's moans went high-pitched as his back arched more and his eyes rolled. He was drooling on the sheet as he came all over the edge of the bed. You didn't take much more after him, this orgasm squeezing you for everything. "I'm gonna cum in you. I'll fucking breed you into being my husband!" Your hips stuttered as your climax washed over you, your cum spilling into Jay as he moaned again. "Every drop, keep squeezing it," You ordered.

When you both came down from your highs, you took Jay into his bathroom and started a warm bath for him. Jay occasionally twitched from the sensation of you helping him wash the cum out of him, he was too embarrassed to ask you to do it but you could tell he didn't know what to do.

Your boss stroked your jaw. "How's it doing?"

"It's a little sore from sucking cock but–" Jay punched you. "It's much better. Thank you, Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes. "If I'm going to be your husband, you're going to need to call me something else."

Your mind rolled back to what you'd said earlier in the heat of the moment. "Jay, I didn't mean it like that–"

"You think you can just hit it and leave? You're stuck with me. And I'm not letting you go. So, your husband is demanding that you call him that." Jay held his head high as his eyes gleamed.

"Okay... Husband." You chuckled as you kissed his forehead.

[llamagoddessofficial]

What about the noble trio from the pride and prejudice au falling for a servant girl at one of the parties they attend. Among all the noble women in their fancy gowns, there is a hardworking lady in uniform making sure everyone is tended to and everything is going well

😳 Anon how did you know that this dynamic is my weakness

Sans: A servant/maid Mc would have a much more favourable view of Sans than an Mc who was of his class. He might even be her favourite out of the skeleton trio. Despite his frosty nature with people in his own social standing, he's very genial and kind with servants, going out of his way to call them all (even those not of his household) by name- that kindness has made him very popular with the local servant population, Mc included. When he sees her, he doesn't dismiss her, he invites her to talk with him... if he ever sees her in town, he stops to politely chat with her as if they're the same standing. She enjoys his company greatly. If she's working for someone else he regularly compliments her work ethic, politeness, tidiness, etc. She's realistic, but... her favourite daydream is the one where Sans gets down on one knee.

If she worked for him, she'd be directly promoted to position more akin to a personal assistant than a maid. She helps him manage his finances, oversee his household- he wants her close by, and he openly expresses to her that she's the only one he trusts to help him with the things important to him.

Red: Though Red definitely has a reputation that makes some want to avoid working for him, his servants also tend to have the most fun. Unlike other noblemen, his servants have a lot of time off, and he openly allows gambling and drinking. He hires people who have a hard time getting other jobs, like the elderly or socially outcast- his reputation is wild anyway, he can afford to hire whoever he wants. Nobody is surprised.

She has the best rapport with Red. He breaks down the walls she built up from a lifetime of fearing the retribution of the upper class, he can make her laugh until her sides ache. He actively encourages her to speak her mind with him; she'll yell at him for beating her at cards and rather than losing her livelihood, she gets raucous laughter from him. After years of silent servitude it feels so good to speak freely with someone.

... She wouldn't work for him, though, unless he was her only option. Does she like him? Yes, so much. But his track record of wooing servants and nobles alike makes her unwilling to risk it... especially when he's so clearly fond of her, and she can't honestly say she doesn't like him too.

Skull: Skull is beloved by his household. Staff only have one rule; don't go into his room when he's in there. He never throws big parties, so no need for massive preparations, he's quiet and gentle in temper around humans, his only regular guest is the ever-popular Red. His staff are immensely defensive of him, and won't hear a word against him despite his unusual reputation.

She'd probably end up working for Skull, one way or another. One look at her, and he'd throw an obscene amount of money at whoever was employing her, he can't bare the thought of her not being his. She arrives to his household expecting the backbreaking work that tends to come with being the maid of a higher class family, and yet finds herself... not really working at all? Her only 'jobs' are what come with being the only person allowed into Skull's room. He keeps giving her nice clothes, rather than a uniform. Why are all the other servants so nice to her? Why do they keep manufacturing reasons for her to be alone with Skull? Why do they all smile like they know a joke she's not in on?

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough. 

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question. 

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while. 

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things. 

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose. 

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone. 

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously. 

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it. 

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room. 

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better. 

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not. 

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing. 

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?” 

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures. 

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods. 

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there. 

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off. 

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return. 

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you. 

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word. 

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands. 

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours. 

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy. 

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her? 

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper. 

“It’s pretty eye-opening,” You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.” 

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair. 

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums. 

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question. 

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out. 

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums. 

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens. 

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses. 

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right. 

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs. 

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers. 

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop. 

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens. 

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure. 

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close. 

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips. 

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods. 

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it. 

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away. 

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head. 

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head. 

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her. 

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand. 

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that. 

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her. 

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck. 

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it. 

“No, Natasha,” You assure her. 

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.” 

“Me either,” You hold her. 

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

[myteavsricochet]

Latest fanfics read, part 6

(Part. 1) (Part. 2) (Part. 3) (Part. 4) (Part 5)

I Keep My Mouth Shut Tight (Cause I Don't Want To Lose What's Not Even Mine)

"Being affectionate, he has always used certain pet names with me. He’s called me sweetheart since we met, and I have used several in turn. That night he used a new one... I realised that he had woken me, saying it was time to take another dose of medicine. It was the way he said it, though: “Baby, I need you to wake up for me...” I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I whined pathetically at him calling me that, but he seemed to take it as protest that I didn’t want to wake, and not for what it really was—me absolutely losing my mind over that word coming out of his mouth and being directed at me. The cherry on top of it all was when he kissed me on the forehead and my brain promptly stopped working completely."

OR: At hit wits end, Henry decides to turn to reddit to ask the internet if his roommate likes him back, or if he's going insane. Then Nora intervenes.

Additional tags: Social Media, Ask reddit, Cute, Short & Sweet, Silly, Sharing a bad, Didn't know they were dating, Cuddling & Snuggling

It's Not a Secret

Henry is a boring person.

This is an objective fact. It’s been such a constant in his life that it hardly bothers him. He prefers the mundane. Thrives under routine. Tolerates many things poorly: surprise parties, capsaicin, loud noises.

Another objective fact: Henry loves Alex. Alex is not boring at all.

Unfortunately, everyone else in Henry’s life seems to think that a bore like him is incapable of a relationship like theirs— and, more distressingly, that this must mean that Alex simply doesn’t exist.

Or: Five times that no one believed that Henry and Alex were an item, and one time that they all did.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Director of Finance Henry Fox, tattoo artist alex claremont-diaz, Opposites Attract, Not actually a secret relationship, Misunderstandings, Developing Relationship, Sexual Content

in sickness and in health

Henry has a rather nasty cold, but June had her appendix removed, which means she wins. Because of her victory in the unwell olympics, Henry will stay in Texas while Alex flies to New York to visit his sister and the rest of their chosen family, something Henry desperately tries not to resent.

Additional tags: Slice of life, Sickfic, Married life

The Room Where It Happens

caged, Alex who he had never thought would be his, making himself at home, in a place Henry hasn’t thought of as home since his father died. It was simply a place he lived. His home was now sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling off his socks.

----

Or, a trio of firsts.

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, First Time Bottoming, Angst, But not like Alex/Henry angst, Lonely Henry angst, Praise Kink

the way it is suddenly there, total and complete

As Alex falls in love with David, Henry falls even more impossibly in love with him, and their little family.

Or: Over the first year of their new life together, Alex fully commits to being a dog dad. Henry is his captive audience.

When I Get Going

“On a scale of one to ten,” Henry says softly, stepping closer to him and lowering his voice in a way that has Alex’s pulse jumping in his throat, his entire body aching to respond, “how far gone are you right now? One being ‘I could easily hold a conversation with the Queen’ and ten being ‘I’m genuinely surprised nobody’s noticed yet’.” Alex grits his teeth, but even the reminder of Henry’s nefarious grandmother can’t quell the arousal burning hotly in his stomach.

“Six,” he hisses, embarrassed and turned on, every molecule of him straining to reach out and pull Henry into something that will start off as a kiss, and end as anything but.

“Let me know when you get to eight,” Henry says firmly, then he just-

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PWP, Underwear, Coming In Pants, Orgasm Delay/Denial, delayed gratification, Control, Light Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Begging, Praise Kink, Henry is a fucking tease

crushed velvet

"In this brief moment of reprieve, Henry pants for breath, digging his fingers into the red material of the sofa to remind himself that this is, in fact, somehow real."

Or, movieverse couch blowjob missing scene.

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ficlet, Missing Scene, Blow Jobs, Skull Fucking, Simultaneous Orgasm, Coming In Pants

Comfort in the Backlight

For the prompt: "rainy day in the brownstone, fluff?"

Maybe sneakers weren’t the best choice of shoe for the day, Alex realizes as he shuts the front door behind him and grimaces at the quick puddle forming beneath him.

you are my medicine (when you're close to me)

After one last peck, Henry finally pulls away, leaving a sore spot of hollowness where his touch had filled it before. Alex forces his face to stay even– he doesn’t want his boyfriend to feel guilty for doing what he needs to do, doesn’t want to feed into the assumption that Alex is helpless without him.

Doesn’t want to be another obligation in Henry’s life that will one day grow to be too much to shoulder.

When the door falls shut, leaving Alex alone with a house that is much too empty and silent without his family there, there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t quite swallow. He thinks of Nora, making jokes that Henry is a saint for putting up with him during exam season; he thinks of June who uprooted her entire life to take care of him during college– and finally, he thinks of Henry, gentle and perfect Henry, that has had to worry about others way too much in his life– and a stinging sense of dread settles over him.

-

Or, Alex's no good horrible very bad two weeks without Henry.

Additional Tags: Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Long-Distance Relationship, Mental Health Issues, Established Relationship

Smile, You're on Camera

"Baby," Alex manages, and Henry groans in response, grazing his earlobe with his teeth. Alex bites his lip his stifle his own whimper. "H, hang on."

Henry pulls away from his assault on his neck, face flushed, chest heaving. "What's — what's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetheart, nothing," Alex soothes, placing both hands on Henry's shoulders. "I just — do you wanna do it? Now?"

Henry blinks owlishly. Alex watches as the realization slowly dawns on him, and he turns his head to look at the camera. He stares for a moment, then looks back at Alex and says, "Can you bring it closer?"

Or, Alex and Henry film a sex tape.

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Tapes, Explicit Sexual Content, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying During Sex, in a sexy way not a sad way, Switching, Sub Top Alex

no bunny compares to you

Henry is a lot of things as a person and while much of his personality transfers over to his bunny form, his physical attributes do not. Most notably, his size.

Where Alex’s boyfriend stands tall and regal, his furry counterpart is small and fluffy, unable to summit even the most minor of obstacles.

Take their sofa, for one. Alex is watching TV and minding his own business, when he hears a steady thump from just below him. Peering over the edge of the dark cushion, he spots his boyfriend angrily pounding his back foot against the carpet.

“Ha! Is my little bun too tiny to get up here on his own?” Alex teases. He’s promptly rewarded with a whisker twitch followed by a nose scrunch. Henry is pouting and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed.

--

or, five times Henry shapeshifts for himself and one time he does it for Alex

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Magical Realism, 5+1 Things, Bunny Henry, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Shapeshifting, Idiots in Love, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Protective Alex Claremont-Diaz, Soft Boys, Henry Has Bad Days

[flexfactory]

WAGING THE WAR ON AGING: Fitness Over 40

For most of us over 40, the inevitable and unavoidable realities of aging have already begun to make themselves known in a variety of ways. Random aches and pains, the formation of wrinkles here and there, those weird, super-long eyebrow hairs that seemingly sprout out of nowhere, all part of the “I’m Getting Older” starter pack. For many, these changes symbolize the end of an old era as it transitions into a newer, scarier era. An era where the realities of life and one’s own mortality begin to become more prominent thoughts in our everyday lives. An era where it becomes increasingly more evident that every decision we make as it pertains to our health, finances, romantic lives, and family, will inevitably affect our future lives, either in a beneficial or adverse way. Suddenly, the freedom of being able to “throw caution to the wind” no longer has a place in our important decision making. The “Over 40” crowd have a lot of changes to deal with, but it doesn’t have to be a super complicated process.

Though there is nothing wrong with utilizing fitness to achieve a fit and healthy body for the sake of vanity (looking good is one of the many perks of being in great shape), fitness over 40 can be used as a veritable anti-aging tool. With the right balance of healthy exercise and mindful eye on nutrition, one can extend their quality of life and comfortable physical existence well into their later years.

“Am I too old for any positive changes to make a difference? How old is too old?” Legitimate questions, indeed.

The reality, is that the hands of time never stop ticking. After 30, we begin to lose 3% to 8% of our muscle mass per decade (the most inactive people tend to lose more muscle than active folk). Once we reach 60, the rate of muscle loss naturally increases and generally happens at a much faster pace. This is a condition called sarcopenia, the age-related progressive loss of muscle mass and strength. While we can’t stop Father Time in his tracks, exercise is certainly a way of grabbing the old man by the beard and slowing him down significantly. There’s no such thing as TOO old to begin a fitness journey, but because we’ll never be younger again than we are today, it would be advantageous to get started on a path towards a healthy, fit life sooner than later.

No matter our age in earthly years, whether it be 40 or 140, exercise can change overall health and longevity in miraculous ways. Being just a little more active today than you were yesterday and doing that consistently can have a profound effect on the trajectory of your future health.

Let’s take a look at some of the key components to being fit over 40:

STRENGTH TRAINING

Strength training helps counteract the effects of sarcopenia and significantly slows progressive muscle loss associated with the condition. Incorporating weight lifting, resistance band training, and bodyweight exercises can be tremendously beneficial.

CARDIOVASCULAR EXERCISE

Cardiovascular health is crucial for reducing the risk of heart disease, which becomes more prevalent with age. Activities such as brisk walking, jogging, cycling, and swimming can vastly improve heart health and endurance.

FLEXIBILITY AND BALANCE

Flexibility and balance exercises help to prevent injuries and overall health. Yoga, Pilates, and stretching routines are excellent for ensuring we remain flexible and mobile.

CONSISTENCY AND MODERATION

Consistency is the key to any fitness regimen. It’s important to find a routine that fits into your lifestyle and can be maintained long-term. Moderation is also crucial to avoid overtraining and injuries.

Though the notion that you “have to change the way you train when you get older” is often repeated, this is absolutely not the case, you do not have to change the way you train as you age. The principals of resistance training remain exactly the same no matter how old you are. The thing that does change while training in your later years is that you must be more conscientious when mitigating risks while lifting. You can’t get away with overloading the bar and swinging weight around recklessly like you did when you were 20. The risk of injury does increase with age, so proper form and loading is paramount for lifting. That said, your training doesn’t have to be overhauled just because you’ve hit middle age or older.

So, we know that there isn’t an age limit or expiry date on being fit and healthy, and we know some of the main components for utilizing fitness to add health and longevity to your life, but what are some the benefits to getting fit and staying fit after 40?

Let’s go through a few:

IMPROVED PHYSICAL HEALTH

Regular exercise reduces the risk of chronic issues like hypertension, high blood pressure, and diabetes, and reduces the risk of osteoporosis by improving bone density.

MENTAL WELL-BEING

Exercise has been shown to improve mood, enhance cognitive function, and reduce symptoms of depression and anxiety. Staying active can lead to a better quality of life and increased longevity.

ENHANCE MOBILITY AND INDEPENDENCE

Maintaining strength, balance, and flexibility helps older adults stay mobile and independent, reducing the risk of falls and other related injuries.

The list of positive benefits that come from being fit after 40 is obviously much larger than the handful that were listed, and to top it off, the downsides are few. One doesn’t have to LIVE in the gym to be fit and healthy. As little as 150 minutes of moderate exercise per week is enough to make notable changes in your life. For those that are about to say “I just don’t have the time”, that’s only 1.5 hours out of a 168 hour week! Almost anyone can find an hour and a half per week to spare, and for that little amount of time, the reward outweighs the sacrifice by a metric ton.

Everyone deserves a long, comfortable, and happy life, and your loved ones deserve to have you around for as long as possible. We all want to win the war on aging, so It is our responsibility to ensure that, as we get older, we start living life more “strategically”, and there is no better strategy than focusing on your fitness and health.

Lift hard, lift often, eat well, and enjoy life!

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Can I request a Rafe x reader smut where she cheats on her bf with Rafe and at an event where she's with her boyfriend she notices Rafe staring at her and all the flashbacks leave her horny and needy for his touch and his touch only. Maybe some angst with her boyfriend catching them in the act.

Flashbacks

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!kook!reader

Warning: Smut, mature content, swearing, cheating, creampie, unprotected sex

2k Word Count

A/N: I might edit this i’ve never done a request. I’m also not good at smut but i tried😭

You're at a formal event with your boyfriend, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you laugh and make small talk with a group of random trust fund babies. You're already hyper focused on keeping a consistent smile that isn't too big or too fake and laughing at just the right time to make it seem like you're paying attention, but every time your eyes drift past shoulders or heads you make direct eye contact with the deep blue stare of Rafe Cameron, somehow he always has a window directly towards you.

Rafe has quite the mesmerizing gaze that you fall into every time and when you catch his eyes from your spot on the balcony a chill runs down your spine as memories of him underneath you flood to the forefront of your mind.

The nights where you'd reach your limit and Rafe would hold eye contact as he wouldn't stop fucking his tongue into you no matter how much you pushed at his head or how deep you dug your nails into his shoulders. It wouldn't be until you put your pride away and cried out your safe word that he let you come down from your overstimulation as he trailed kisses up your trembling thighs, eyes still capturing your every move.

"Sweetie, tell them about the boat" Your boyfriend brings you back into the current conversation and you realize that Rafe has you fumbling around on the inside like an idiot and it's starting to show on the outside.

You've been building and fortifying a persona for the kooks and somehow Rafe Cameron had the ability to tear down your years of hard work with one second of eye contact, even from all the way across the room his stare makes you trip over your words as your skin runs hot and your fingers fidget.

He enjoys making you squirm, he thinks it's amusing to watch you fake laugh and smile to appease all of the kooks here, but he finds it satisfying to see you clutching your fist and squeezing your thighs together, satisfied to know that he has that type of effect on you.

Later on in the night you're sitting a few tables across from Rafe. You've almost turned in your chair to completely avoid his gaze, but as soon as you begin to tune out your boyfriend's story, your eyes wander and lock with his. The sensation of Rafe's eyes looking back into yours strikes up a more than vivid flashback of Rafe pulling you up by your neck, your back against his chest as he bottoms out in you with every relentless thrust. He tilted your head so that you could watch yourself in the bedroom mirror and almost immediately you make eye contact with Rafe in the reflection. You watch as he leans his head forward enough to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss, and you briefly watch him bring his hand down your frontside to circle his finger against your clit before your eyes slam shut in ecstasy.

You feel a warm hand settle on you thigh and you almost jump at the feeling, "Isn't that right hun?" Your boyfriend is smiling down at you and smile back, flexing your thigh under his hand to soothe the part of you that aches for another man.

Rafe watched as your eyes snap away from his and the slight smirk on his face grows.

Your forbidden relationship with Rafe is what launched your father to accept your boyfriend’s family’s offer to arrange a relationship for finance and publicity reasons. Rafe is bad news, his own family knows it, your family knows it. His reputation already is what is but yours is clean, none of them know you the way he does, not even your boyfriend had seen the side of you that's submissive, needy, and thirsty enough to swallow his spit.

The conversation at the table moves on without you and after a few minutes of aimlessly nodding your boyfriend leans down and whispers in your ear, "Will you get me another drink?"

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, giving him a quick nod and smile as you take another well needed sip of your drink, before walking alone to the bar.

The bartender makes casual small talk while he pours your drink and you find yourself being able to freely respond. For the first time that night Rafe is no where to be seen in your peripherals and you're able to breathe and drop your tense shoulders. His presence and the flashbacks it enables are always intense and cause double the stress when you're trying to pretend like there's nothing going on between you two.

You slide a tip towards the bartender as he finishes serving your drink and you reach down to pick the glass up, but your hand closes around nothing as the drink is picked up. You turn to your right and in all his chilling glory Rafe Cameron is sipping from the glass with one eyebrow raised, eyes pointed at you.

"What type of douche bag sends a girl as gorgeous as you by herself to order him a.. fruity cocktail? At this point he's handing you to me" He says, leaning back to get a good look at the table you previously came from.

"This is why he doesnt like you" you tell him with a smirk of your own painting your face. Your boyfriend is not a big fan of Rafe, he's thrown his name out in plenty of arguments before, due to a reoccurring suspicion.

"That or this?" he asks pointing his finger between the two of you as he stands closer, towering over you.

"Both." You made a poor attempt at sounding unfazed by his advances, but it's hard to be stern when he stares down at you with those eyes.

Rafe leans in impossibly closer towards you, making you turn your head the other way, "But you like me though, right?" he asks dropping his head down so his mouth rests in the air near your ear. "So much so that you can't even look at me without getting needy"

You snap your head back towards him and your faces are closer together than you anticipated,"I-"

"It's written all over your face, gorgeous. He can't see it, but I can" he says almost boasting about how well he knows you in a competitive manner. "Want to tell me what you were thinking about?" He asks allowing his hands to hold you by your waist.

The intimacy of his hold makes your breath hitch. "People can see us," you whisper up at him with shy eyes.

"Let's go somewhere they can't" he suggests, pulling you away from the bar, inside of the event's show house.

You let him guide you into the house without a sliver of hesitation. Rafe opens a door that leads into a dimly lit room, "You always look so stunning" he says, lightheartedly spinning you around with one hand.

"Thank you Mr. Cameron" you softly laugh as he pulls you back into his chest. The way he holds you is grossly domestic, even more so when he catches you in a soft kiss the next time you look up at him. He breaks the kiss, gently trailing kisses across your jawline and down your neck, inhaling his favorite perfume of yours.

"Remind me again why you're here with him" he mumbles into the crook of your neck, letting his hands drift from your waist, down your backside, and up your thighs.

"Rafe don't" You whine into his ear, begging him not to push the subject of your "relationship" or tease you with his touch.

Your whining turns him eager and he walks the two of you backwards, until your back hits a wall. He lifts his head up to look down at you, "I bet you think about me when he's with you."

You roll your eyes up at him, "Can you shut the fuck up about him, it's turning me off"

"Really?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows down at you.

Rafe's hand grabs at the side of your thigh to rest it over his hip. You want to look down at where he's standing in between your legs but you're fallen too deep in his glare, able to do nothing but nonchalantly hum, "Mhm"

His hand finds the lacey pair of underwear hidden under your dress and snaps the waistband against your skin. Your eyes widen slightly as you feel him pull the thin material to the side completely, "Mhm?" he repeats teasingly, slowly dragging his finger through your arousal.

Your hands squeeze into the tight space between your bodies and tug at the belt looped through his dress pants. "Rafe please" You whisper against his lips

He closes the centimeter of distance by giving you slow and chaste kisses. "Aww so soon" he pouts down at you before kissing you again.

"This is supposed to be a quickie, wouldn't want anyone to find us" You tell him with a smile as you finally get his zipper down.

“You wouldn’t wouldn’t want anyone to find us” he repeats emphasizing the word you, but trailing off as he watches you take him out of his pants, for the first time that night he broke eye contact with you to watch how your hands wrap around his hard on, dragging his tip all the way up to your clit.

“Rafe.” You call up to him making his eyes snap back up at you “Hurry up and fuck me”

Without hesitation he adjusts his hold on your leg over his hip and bottoms out in you, making you hold him tightly. “Fuck,” you quietly gasp at the stretch of him.

His grip on your thigh tightens, as he stays unmoving, “Look at me, gorgeous girl,” and when your eyes meet his he captures your lips in a rough kiss to swallow the noises you make once he starts to slowly fuck you against the wall.

Rafe makes sure each thrust is drawn out, filling you to the brim each time. He pauses, regaining control of the kiss to slow it down and it makes you break the connection. “Since when were you a slow and sweet lover?” you ask him shakily, moving your hands to caress his jawline.

“Maybe I want him to come looking for you” He says with a smirk, pulling your hips into his with steady hard thrusts.

“N-not much to look at” You choke out as he punctuates each of your words by driving into harder and harder every time. He knows you’re bluffing by the way you fight to speak, but the idea of your boyfriend walking in to find him fucking you better than he ever has makes Rafe press your lower half into the wall as his speed increases. Your mouth falls open as his off hand comes down to rub your clit, it makes your body shake. “A-lways make me.. so good Rafe” You tell him with your hands caressing his nape and jawline, struggling to be quiet and keep your composure as you feel a knot build in your stomach.

The way you fall apart boosts his ego and libido as he stares down at your pleasure filled face “Fuck, your gonna make me-”

“I-in me please” You cut him off, begging for him to finish with you, it makes his eyes widen and a moan of his own fall from his lips. You pull him in for a hungry kiss and the two of you moan into each others mouths as you ride out your highs.

Rafe stills inside you as it’s rare for him to ever immediately pull out anyways. "You gonna keep my cum in there?" he asks smiling a devilish smile. The look in his eyes tells you that there’s nothing he wants more in the world than for you to go sit next to your boyfriend with his cum still painting your insides. You look up at him with your knowing eyes, a little bit annoyed that his ego always needs to make itself known. He takes that as an answer and pulls you into a long drawn out kiss, "Good girl."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me! Cheating on me with Rafe Cameron?" The loud and sudden yelling from your boyfriend startles you into pushing away from Rafe and pulling your dress back down, while he instead stays firmly in his spot with his back to him, looking up at you with a sly smirk. “I knew it! How long have you been fucking him behind my back?”

Rafe tucks himself back into his pants and turns around, “How long have you guys been in this sorry ass arranged relationship?” his back is to you, but you can tell by his arrogant tone that he’s trying to push him to the very edge.

The look on your boyfriend's face as he stands in the doorway doesn't necessarily make you feel good, even though he caught feelings knowing you were essentially forced into the relationship he was still hurt. "I-" You go to apologize due to the pang of guilt, but you're cut off by the feeling of Rafe's cum drooling out of you and down your thigh.

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 1

Hi everyone! Let me start by saying that I am sorry for not being around in a while. Life and stuff, you know? I won't bore you with the details, but long story short, I've found some inspiration again and wanted to finish this fic I was requested. I really hope it's been worth the wait!

2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue

Masterlist

You and Eddie meet again after several years apart.

TW- cursing, brief mentions nudity, drinking, mentions of smoking (lmk if I missed anything!)

Pairings- Eddie x Reader

Word Count- 1,779

(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)

You always liked Eddie. Not in the googly-eyed, heart-racing, butterflies-in-the-stomach way, but you used to be really great friends, especially when you hung out with him and your best friend pretty much every day in high school when they were together. You remember all the times the three of you sat on Eddie’s couch in the middle of the night, laughing and smoking together while a movie played in the background, just mood music for the three of you to talk about anything and everything until you fell asleep. 

You honestly loved seeing Eddie and your bestie being all lovey-dovey to each other. You’d always give a little smile when you caught them in a tender moment, kissing each other sweetly, holding hands, brushing a piece of hair from each other’s faces… You envied her. You didn’t want Eddie, necessarily, but you did hope you’d find someone that treated you the way he treated her. 

You stopped talking to them a while after you left for college. Not out of malice or any sort of fall-out among the three of you, but things just got busy. You were working on a degree, after all, and that takes a lot of focus.  

You let your bags fall next to you as you walk into your new apartment in the heart of Hawkins. You never knew if you’d come back after you graduated, but in all honesty, after a lot of looking and a lot of thought, you realized you wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. So, you found a well-paying job at the bank as a junior finance advisor and tried to settle back into the place you’d always called home. 

You decide to go out and celebrate at the Hideout, and you smile gently as you walk in for the first time in years, remembering that Eddie’s band used to play here. Maybe they still do. You find a seat at the bar and order some food and a stiff drink, thankful that the bar’s within walking distance of your apartment. You thank the bartender as she sets your drink down in front of you and take a sip, letting yourself look around.  

It hasn’t changed a bit. Faded red-painted walls stained with cigarette smoke, a rickety oak stage, heavy velvet curtains flanking each side. So many nights spent here dancing with your best friend, whooping and cheering for Eddie and his band, black sharpie Xs on the back of your hands. You smile at the memory, lost in it as you suddenly ache for that friendship again, when you hear your name being called. 

“Y/N?” You recognize that voice. You turn your head to the door to spot a tall man, shaggy mess of curls still intact, sporting a jean vest and a tattered band shirt. You set your drink down and stand, smiling ear to ear. 

“Eddie?!” You both laugh as you approach each other and pull each other in, you squeezing his middle as his arms wrap around your shoulders. You part and sigh happily, taking him in. “You look exactly the same!” He laughs. 

“And you look… completely different! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago at that fancy school?” He places his hands on his hips, his smile intoxicating, like it always was.  

You shrug, hands going to your pockets. “I just graduated a couple months ago. I thought about staying there, but it’s not home, ya know?”  

“Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t the same without you, though.” You wave a hand dismissively.  

“I bet you didn’t even realize I was gone, what with you and Y/BFF/N too busy ogling at each other every second. How is she, by the way?” You watch as his eyes go from joy to something darker, sadder, and you regret asking. 

“Eh, it didn’t work out. She actually moved not long ago. Down south, near the river, I think.” You shuffle your feet, eyes flicking down. 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Eds, I didn’t—” Eddie waves a hand, his smile returning. 

“Don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago now.” It goes quiet, and tension builds. Then, the bartender sets your plate of loaded potato skins down next to your drink, and you try to smile again. 

“Wanna sit? I got some food, if you wanna share,” You offer. Eddie’s smile returns too as he nods, and you and he sit, trying to get the momentum going again as Eddie orders a drink.  

“So, you still play with the band?” You gesture to the stage. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. 

“No, not anymore. We all got jobs and shit now. Assimilating into society, as it were. Gareth’s engaged, that’s fucking weird.” You both laugh at that, “I don’t know, it’s just crazy to think about. We used to be freaks. Remember when people called us Satanists and stuff? Thought Hellfire was a cult? Now we’re just average fucking chumps with Social Security accounts and shit.” You raise your eyebrows, nodding at the insanity of it all.  

“Seems just yesterday we were running around the park after dark, passing around a joint and pushing each other on the swings.”  

“Yeah! I remember that. Good times…” He flicks his eyes up, remembering. “I remember once, we were in Y/BBF/N’s pool, and you forgot your swimsuit…” He laughs, and you suddenly remember, and your hands fly to your face, embarrassed laughs spilling out of your mouth. 

“Stop! I don’t need to relive that!” You grimace at the memory. Your best friend’s swimsuit didn’t fit, so you opted to just swim in your underwear. What’s the difference, really, anyway? Well, turns out swimsuits are easier to keep on underwater, and your panties slipped down your ass as you climbed the ladder. You’re lucky it was just the two of them, but both Eddie and your best friend called you “Full-Moon” for a month! 

“No, no! You looked good! Flaunt what you got and all.” You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you both laugh uncomfortably.  

“Yeah, just like that time your pants split right down the middle, and somebody was going commando that day!” You retort.  

“Oh, fuck! I completely forgot about that! What were we doing?” Eddie laughs, his brows furrowed in thought as he takes a bite of potato. 

“Um,” You rack your brain. “Oh, we were… We were at the apple orchard! You tried to lift Y/BFF/N on your shoulders so she could pick the one she wanted!” Recognition streaks across his face as he laughs. 

“Yeah, that’s right! God, and I had to waddle back to the van with both of your jackets around my waist so no one would see!”  

“Right! God, that was a great day…” You muse, the laughter subsiding.  

You continue reminiscing all through the night, not parting until the bar closes at 1 A.M. You wrap Eddie in a tight hug as the bartender closes the door behind you, locking it and turning the light off. When you pull away, you sigh. “I’m so glad I ran into you, Ed.” Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. You don’t remember the last time you smiled this much, but you bet it was the last time you were here with him. He nods, his hands going to his pockets.  

“Yeah, me too. But hey, now that you’re back permanently, we can hang out again. Just like old times.”  

“I’d like that. Um, here’s my new number…” You rummage through your purse to find your new business cards you just had made and hand him one. “My personal number is on there, so just give me a shout whenever.” He raises his eyebrows at the card, handling it like it’s a precious photo he doesn’t want smudged. 

“Wow! Impressive! Was this whole night just a ploy for me to…” He reads the card, squinting in the darkness. “Seek financial advice?” You both laugh. 

“Obviously! I just need to reel in new clients so I’m stalking old friends. You caught me!” You raise your hands up as your face feigns guilt. 

“Well, I don’t make enough money to have any left over for warranting advice, but you’ll be the first to know if I do!” He promises. You nod gratefully. “Well, anyway, where’s your car? I’ll walk you.” You thumb in the direction behind you toward your apartment building. 

“I actually walked. I just live a couple blocks away.”  

“I can give you a ride. I’m parked right there.” He points to a black sedan, definitely an upgrade from the van he drove when you were all in high school. You smile lightly and nod.  

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.”  

You walk to his car and get in, looking around a bit as Eddie hops in the driver's side. On the dashboard you see a picture, yellowed with time. You pick it up, holding the edges gently, though one side is torn, and see you and Eddie smiling in front of a stage, the Hideout stage, actually. It’s a photo from Corroded Coffin’s first gig there. The ripped edge is right where your best friend’s arm is linked with Eddie’s. You let out a little gasp. 

“You still have this? I think I lost most of my photos when I moved to college. Though, they might be boxed up somewhere in my parents’ attic.” Eddie looks down with a tentative smile as he starts the ignition. 

“Yeah… after things ended with Y/BFF/N, I got rid of a lot of stuff with her in it, but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of this one. So, I just modified it a bit.” You feel sad bringing Y/BFF/N up, but you can’t help but ask. 

“Was it bad?” Eddie scoffs, flicking his eyes to the window. 

“Yeah.” That’s all he has to say, and so you leave it there, not wanting to push him. You direct Eddie to your building and lean over the center console to hug him before getting out.  

“Thanks for the ride, Ed.” 

“No problem. I’ll call you soon, okay? Now that you’re back, I’m not letting you go again, got it?” You feel your heart jump unexpectedly at that, but you nod. 

“Got it. I’ll talk to you soon. Goodnight!” 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” You close the door behind you and wave as he drives away before turning and walking into the building and up to your apartment. As you close the door, you smile, remembering everything, and you realize that this is the happiest you’ve felt in a long time. As you get ready for bed, you can’t help but hope that Eddie will call sooner rather than later. 

[farmerbebop]

No one asked for an update on my holiday but here we go.

1. I dreamed of having a drink with Nina Simone (it’s more like she gave me one actually).

2. Mom insisted that she had to pluck out some of my white hair and I told her there’s absolutely no use because they will grow back and she said the new ones will be different than these so that can’t stop her from dealing with these first. So I accepted my fate because you can’t possibly win against a South East Asian mom who knows exactly how much white hair you had the last time you saw her.

3. I was lamenting my hair loss in silence when mom started talking every night about the miseries of every working class woman she has ever known including herself. If last holiday I heard someone was borrowing money to live then this holiday I’m told she also has to borrow money for her father’s funeral. Only one thing never changes: My mom’s lament on how the retirement age only gets higher and her body is only going to ache more. Now I think all my white hair has grown back tenfold.

4. Dad admitted to eating a lot of ice cream lately and A WHOLE JACKFRUIT the other day. He was trying to explain his blood test result (high blood sugar it says). And just a few months ago he told me that my stepmom didn’t let him eat ice cream because he had too much sugar already. He got his heels operated lately (there are still a lot of things on his arms and legs that need to be operated) and is too scared to look at the wounds but still joked “I will walk just like a ballet dancer.” Apparently, I take after him but without the humor.

5. It turns out warm climate and kind people aren’t the only things we have in common with Southern Europeans. They also pick babies up and kiss them on their bare bellies. Grandmas also put grandchildren’s photos under glass table tops and sit outside their house looking at people. One grandma told me the bus was coming in 10 minutes without using English. She was correct. She probably knew I can’t find that information in their bus app co-financed by the EU. Or maybe I just looked very confused at the bus stop because beside the lack of time schedule, the bus app also says “(NO RETURN)” for the bus I was trying to take. Spoiler: I managed to return somehow on the same bus despite the bus stops not being on google maps and finding my way back has never been my biggest strength.

6. The frustration about politics is universal. The tour guide complained about three generations of politicians who went to the same elite schools and never listened to a normal person in their lives, the financial crisis, the Euro (the people weren’t even asked if they wanted it), the Americans (who wanted to build cable car to the holiest church on the mountain, where generations of pilgrims have slept in the yard under a million of stars, praying for miracles), the five stars hotel (they charge over 200 Euro for a seat on the beach since the hotel was built, the local people used to swim from that beach to the small church nearby, now hotel security can catch them for trespassing on the beach).

[silens-oro]

wip wednesday

steapa x f!dane reader

synopsis: finan, ever the schemer, tries to play matchmaker.

an: this will be a stand alone one shot that will be filled with filth and debauchery once it is finished 😈this was written on my phone so no word count or editing. we die like s*****.

warnings: talks of sex and maiming, but neither act happens. Finance’s mouth is it’s own warning.

+

“I’ve noticed something,” Finan said as he sat next to you on the bench you occupied. All of the men had dispersed once you made it to Winchester -for food, sleep, women, or a combination of the three. You decided to head to the closest ale house for some food and drink to unwind after your long journey before you went to bed.

Your body ached, as did your belly. You tried to not let Finan’s interruption ruin the meal in front of you.

A hearty bowl of stewed beef with chunks of carrot, potato, and onion steamed in front of you, a hunk of crusty bread in your hand to dip into the thick broth. You were mid-dunk into the bowl when Finan spotted you.

“Is it that you refuse to give me a moment’s peace?” You grumbled, finally bringing the soaked bread to your mouth. You nearly groaned at the taste and feel of a hot meal. You threw Finan a look as you chewed. “You’ve lost your shadow?” You referenced Osferth, who had grown quite the attachment to Finan, as you dig into the bowl with your spoon.

“Praying, what else would be be doing? And do not deflect from my questioning.” He playfully reprimanded.

“I merely wished to know where to find the boy so I could tether him to you so you’d leave me be,” you said through a mouthful of stew. “What are you doing bothering me? Will no woman take your coin for the night?” You grinned.

“Any woman would be happy to take my coin, thank you. But my question still stands: Why do you not take a man to bed?” You dropped the bread to the table and abandoned the spoon in the bowl to turn your body to face the Irishman.

“Excuse me?” Offense was clear as day on your face as you glared at him. “Who I take to bed does not concern you.”

“Anywhere we stop, the men find their ladies of the night, but you never take anyone to bed. Why is that?” Your head tiled back as you sighed. There goes your meal for the night.

“You do not know this.” You argued.

“Ah, but I do.”

“Why does this matter?” You grumbled, bringing your cup of ale to you lips. “How would you know my whereabouts when you’re occupied?”

“Because you always have the same look on your face before I leave to hump and when I’m finished.” He had a point. “It is a good stress reliever. You seem wound up, more so than usual. If you need help-”

“No!” You stopped him mid-sentence, your dagger out in the blink of an eye and pointed at Finan. “Do not finish that sentence if you wish to keep your tongue.”

“It was merely a suggestion,”

“Merely do not suggest,” you spat. His grin only widened at your growing frustration. A few moments passed where you were both in a standoff with your stares, and your dagger pointed at him, before you stood down. The blade was placed on the table, pointed at him in warning. “There’s a reason I don’t allow any of you fools into my bed. I intend to keep it that way.”

“I think it would help. From one friend to another, you need to let loose a little.”

“Let loose? Finan, are you aware of the anatomy differences between you and I?”

“I am intimately aware,” He wiggled his thick brows.

“Then you would know that only one of us is capable of becoming with child,” Finan grimaced at your point, then his eyes lit up with a thought.

“They make a tea for that!”

“Yes I am intimately aware of that, Finan,” You mocked him. His eyes widened, scandalized, but humored nonetheless. “I have ample supply on me, but there is still risk.”

“You minx!” Finan laughed. “Okay, minimal risk. What is the next?”

“The women, more or less are agreeable to look at, yes?” His head teetered from left to right with a shrug.

“Sometimes,”

“But most times you are able to find a woman you can stomach looking at,” You stated.

“I guess so.”

“Look around this ale house,” You said, let him scope out the patrons for a moment before bringing his attention back to you. “Do you see my problem?” Finan grimaced. “My best prospect is Steapa,” you nodded your head in his direction. Finan’s jaw dropped. “And even then I’d need a few more cups.” You shook your ale cup in front of Finan. The man was not disagreeable to your eyes, but he was massive. Gargantuan. There was no question that *all* of him was to proportion.

“Steapa?!” Finan said a little too loud, garnering the man in question’s attention towards your table. You punched Finan directly in the center of his chest, causing him to wheeze and double over on the table in pain.

You gave a short wave with an awkward smile at Steapa who sighed at the pair of you before shaking his head and guzzling more ale.

“Clearly he isn’t interested, and every other man who I could stomach doesn’t have the spine to approach me. It is no surprise. Saxon men are generally weak.”

“You really are unapproachable,” Finan agreed while rubbing his chest. He flinched when you made like you were going to hit him again. “Your face is constantly pinched. You look like you’ve sucked on a lemon,” he teased as he touched the tensed muscle between your brows.

“I wonder why,” you smacked his hand away from you.

“So this is my mission for the night, eh?” Finan wrapped an arm over your shoulder to put you in a near headlock. “We’ll find you a lad to hump so we can get that dazzling smile back on your face!” He said louder than he should’ve, catching the attention of a few men within the ale house -Steapa included. You could feel the heat radiate off of your face as whistles and hoots filled the room. Finan stood before you could stop him and he was off into the night.

Steapa caught your eye. He had a questioning look on his face, to which you just shook your head with a roll of your eyes. Chugging the last of your ale, you looked to the now cold stew in front of you with a sigh.

You heard the scrapes of chairs and benches on the floor, followed by boots heading in your direction.

“Any man who approaches me will be chewing on his own balls as a midnight snack!” You said without looking up. You made a show of fiddling with your dagger before sheathing it. The men who were going to approach sat back down without hesitation. Steapa’s eyes still followed you as you stood, put the hood of your cloak up and fled the ale house to find refuge in your bed.

[defire]

Dance of Death Chapter 22:

Secrets

Content: gaslighting, emotional whump, slavery, caught red-handed, mild manhandling, minor whumpee

Warren's parents were softly discussing finances in the family's private sitting room, the one with the view of the city. Even Nife wasn't really supposed to go in here, so Warren felt a little uncomfortable broaching the space.

He knocked on the arch that led in from the private library as he came in.

They looked up at him, then at each other with an undue amount of shame and awkward welcome.

"Come in, sit down, we were just talking." His mother said. 

Warren nodded and came in, sitting down on a chair to the side of the couch with an equally good view of the city. As he approached, his father folded up a few select folders and declared that he was done with them, then looked at him with fake energy.

"So, what's up, son?"

Warren stared at his father for a moment, then at his mother's unbelievably welcoming attitude, took a deep breath and tried to keep his hands out of his pockets. Mother didn't like the hand-pocket thing.

"Or are you just here to hang out with us?" Mother said, without hostility.

"No, I..." Warren gripped the arms of the chair. "You... I understand you have taken control of the Nife situation?"

He hadn't meant it to come out so cold and brittle.

"We are putting our feelers out," Mother said.

She should've been in marketing.

Father added,

"Don't worry, son, we do have a plan."

Warren let his breath out slightly, realizing he'd been holding it, realizing he was holding back tears. "You do? Because it... really looks like you just gave up."

"Oh honey," His mother put a hand on his arm gently, checking to make sure no Banes were around to see it first, even though there obviously weren't. This room was for Raizdens only.

"I would never give up on my family." Father said. "And I think you feel that way just as strongly as I do, Warren. So you should believe me when I say,--"

"If you feel as strongly as I do, you wouldn't sell your daughter." Warren interrupted, clenching his fingers together in an attempt to not scrape the chair's finish off with his fingernails in his anxiety. "You didn't do that, did you? You'd never. I'd never."

"Well, Warren, you can't know that, you're not in my position," Father started.

Warren choked a cry of alarm back, swallowing his words. It would be embarrassing to cry in front of his mother.

"Let me finish." Father said. "It's... I wouldn't consider this selling my family, it's more like a mortgage that--"

"A fucking what?!"

"A mortgage that I intend to pay back as soon as I have the money!"

Warren licked his cold lips, leaning back in his chair in shock.

Father waited for him to apologize for the interruption. He didn't.

Father huffed.

"I am doing my best for this family, son. I know it's not what you want to hear, but sometimes, certain sacrifices have to be made..." He looked closer at Warren, realized the boy was too shocked to be fully listening, and stopped with a small eye-roll. "You know, I'd like to see you come up with something better."

Warren's gut ached at the words. It wasn't like he had a different solution in mind, but that didn't make this okay... did it? The longer he looked at his mother's long-suffering expression, the less confident he felt.

"See Warren," His father went on, "It was either her or all of us."

"Her or all of us?" Warren repeated, dumbfounded.

"You know how bad the situation is..." Mother smoothed a hand on his knee, and her eyes were comforting.

It felt like they both understood everything better, and if he just let them explain it, everything would make sense again. No... That kind of thinking was what had isolated Nife from the family in the first place. 

Warren gently put his mother’s hand back on her own knee.

“Mother, Father… Why wasn't it me you sold?"

His mother's jaw dropped with shock, then she looked to his father. His father looked down at the closed folders under his whitening thumbs as he squeezed too tightly.

"Tell me. Why Nife?" Warren's voice was hard.

His father still didn't answer, and his mother had clearly decided to stay silent.

"Why is it always Nife?!" He shouted, stamping on the ground before he even knew he'd stood up. He trembled with unshed tears. "Nife ignored. Nife getting in trouble. Nife being--being so neglected she was abused for over a year before it even occurred to her to ask for help?" He was out of breath.

He waited for Mother to point out that Nife always seemed fine, but she didn't speak.

"And against the odds you threw at her, she becomes important, and starts changing Gapp. And your response is to fucking throw her away." He paused. "No, sell. Selling someone, is worse." He pointed at his father, then froze as he saw his reflection in the darkened window. A tall young man, pitched half-forward frenetically with a shaking finger, which slowly lowered as he felt hot shame come down his head and all the way down his gut.

He sank down into the chair slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. His head hurt with the effort.

"I know it's hard to understand the nuance here, son," Father said.

"Nuance? But... dammit--" He wiped a tear away and rubbed it on his tunic. "But you yourself told me how wrong it is to pretend to own another human being."

"And I pray you don't ever say those words to me outside of this room, son." 

Warren was about to speak, but Mother interrupted.

"Don't you understand, Warren? It doesn't matter what you believe. It matters what society believes, because that's what is going to have real impact. Your belief isn't going to change anything."

Warren rubbed his forehead, trying to understand.

"To put it simply," Father said, "I don't choose to believe in anything that will get my family enslaved. Nife... is not so considerate. It's only natural that the consequences fell to her."

Warren gritted his teeth and pushed his hands into his pocket, standing up.

"So... you sold her. Because..." He shook his head and walked away to the window, blinking at the silhouette of the man he'd become. He felt like a ten-year-old right now, being lectured by his parents. He'd so much rather have them be right than think what he was thinking. "You sold her because she wasn't a valuable asset like I am."

He turned on his parents, seeing them stiffen and draw away slightly. Then his mother heated up quite a bit, and he could see she was about to get angry out loud.

"No, don't." He waved his hand in a gentle "calm down" motion, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I think I'm just tired."

With a short "good night", he went to bed. But he couldn't sleep. His mind went over and over the conversation with Kit and then with his parents, cringing at his loss of control and then firing up in anger at his parents' defensive arguments.

He couldn't accept it. Any of it.

After the other servants had gone to bed, Nife and Iridiss were left in the lamplit kitchen, washing up and preparing for next morning's breakfast. Iridiss's voice was a pleasant silvery jangle, and her word choice made everything she said sound like a hasty chant. 

Iridiss paused to stuff the last of the roll, which Nife had stolen for her from dinner, into her mouth.

"Seriously, it's like you know everything," Nife said as Iridiss liberally provided interesting tidbits of gossip.

"Oh I know tons," Iridiss said. "But'chya know, I never told anyone as much as this."

"There were a couple other things I was going to ask you about the missing man."

"Murdered man." Iridiss corrected.

"Murdered?" Nife said. "I thought you said he was--"

Nife stopped as Iridisis held out her hand and beckoned like she wanted to be paid in cold hard cash. 

Nife put her hand in Iridiss' instead, came close, and kissed her on the cheek, which was still full of cinnamon roll. Iridiss smelled good, and when Nife's thin lips landed on her face, she burst into laughter so hard she almost lost a few crumbs of the food she was stuffing into her mouth.

Nife didn't break the act, but held the other slave's hand and looked intimately, lovingly, into Iridiss' eyes. 

"Come on, you know you love me," She said, holding back her own laughter under a mask of self-confident boldness. "Tell me."

Iridiss glanced back her with eyes that were teary from laughing, and the moment she met Nife's adoring gaze, she burst into laughter even harder, this time accidentally spitting chunks of the roll on the floor  and saying "oh no, hell," as she continued to laugh and try to toe the evidence under the counter.

At that moment, they both heard Enimee's steps coming up the hall at her typical, terribly fast pace, and turned to the counter, hands smacking onto cloths at the same time. They swished the cloths across the counter in sync as Enimee passed, squinting suspiciously inside on the way.

The moment she was gone, they looked at each other and burst into a fresh explosion of giggling, which they kept stifled in their cheeks in case Enimee overheard them.

"I can't believe we both picked the same thing!" Iridiss laughed.

"Come on tell me," Nife urged. "I'm dying to know." 

"Okay." Iridiss put a hand on the marble counter, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. "So a couple people said they saw 'im--like after they found 'im dead. Blood everywhere. 'Suicide'." She made air quotes. Her voice sank to such a low whisper, Nife could barely hear it. "But... he had an awful amount of cuts for someone who killed his own self. Now you can't tell nobody I said it. Asides, last person said it's suspicious, went poof. So don't talk shit about it. Least not to the wrong person, if you catch my drift." 

She nodded toward the kitchen doorway where Enimee had just passed, starting to actually clean again.

"Poof?" Nife repeated, following Iridiss. "Doth protest too much."

"Getta work, lazy-ass." Iridiss shot back over her shoulder. She never answered when Nife said something she didn't understand. "Ain't doin this all by myself."

"I'm not lazy, you're a workaholic." Nife muttered, taking a pail to collect the food trash. 

"Anyways, ever'body knows what really happened. The other stuff is just... rumors. Dangerous ones. Sides, I saw all the blood myself, killed hisself dirty all over his room." Iridiss said, but she winked significantly–twice. "Hey, finish up for me. I'm gonna go to bed early."

"Okay, but one more thing--"

Iridiss tilted her head with a glare that was calling Nife cheap.

"Come on," Nife pleaded, gesturing at how much Iridiss was leaving her with. "I won't tell on you for going to bed early... just one more question."

Despite the blackmail, Iridiss couldn't seem to resist a little victorious smile.

"Fine." She said. "One question."

Nife thought for a moment, then asked,

"You said a couple people said they 'saw him'." She said. "You were about to tell me more, weren't you?"

Iridiss wiggled her eyebrows mysteriously.

"Aw, well, I can't just say that out loud, can I?"

"So whisper." Nife said softly, stepping closer to Iridiss, bare feet sticking to the dirty tiles on the way. They made an uncomfortable "nack nack" sound on the floor, meaning stealthy walking was almost impossible in the kitchen, unless you conveniently spilled some flour first.

Iridiss was squinting thoughtfully at the counter Nife had yet to clean, but when she looked Nife in her earnest eyes, she relented. 

"His hat. That's what he saw." She whispered. "A deep fedora, with this single spotted feather in the band. Showed up on the hat stand a few weeks after the funeral."

"Are you sure it was the same hat?"

Iridiss just laughed and wiggled her fingers in goodbye, then left for bed. 

Nife frowned in thought as she finished the kitchen on her own.

She'd already heard that Keerenn Wry had committed suicide several years ago, and his younger sister Luster Wry had inherited the estate. She'd never heard any other theories about it until today.

She was going to have to hunt for evidence that Lady Wry had killed him. As for the hat, that was just a silly rumor; it could've shown up there for any number of much more plausible reasons. 

Tonight was a night for more than just cleaning. She thanked her stars that these Banes couldn't see in the dark–she was going to need to take advantage of that tonight.

That night, when she should've been going to bed, Nife crept up the stairs to the east wing where the nobles' chambers were. Small statues stared into the passage from tiny pedestals next to each door, which were few and far between. A single dim window all the way at the end of the hall cast a spare light into the end of the tunnel of candles, casting shadows from their sconces onto the tan papered walls. 

Nife wasn't allowed up here after sundown–only the nobles’ personal servants were allowed here, in case they needed something in the night. The idea of getting caught was terrifying, but she wouldn't just give up on what she'd had with the Souls.

Dirt on Luster Wry might be the exact thing to tip the scales in her favor. Nife imagined what she'd say to her–

"If only your ladyship might be persuaded to sell my contract for a little less, then my heart might be so touched by your generosity that I might overlook certain... murders..."

"You're asking to pay half–on loan!" Lady Wry would protest.

Nife would send her the slyest of sly grins.

"Oh well," She'd say. "I suppose I'll just have to do the right thing and tell everyone your crimes."

Nife suppressed a giggle as she passed Striker's room. This would be so worth it.

When Lord Keerenn Wry had been found dead, Lady Wry had reportedly sealed the room up, exactly as it was, as a way to honor the dead, and quickly buried him in a private plot on their own land. If everything was the same, maybe there would be evidence inside.

Nife slowed down a little as she approached a small reading alcove with its own window to her left. She was getting close to Keerenn's room, and when she walked into the light from the window, she'd be very visible, in the event that anyone happened to walk into the hall from any of the chambers on either side.

That’s not going to happen. She told herself. It can’t.

Twirling a spoon she'd accidentally brought with her from the kitchen, she stepped into the light, and just passed it, she froze. Then she ducked back into the alcove with a sudden hiss of breath, grimacing and hoping desperately that she hadn't been seen, because someone was there.

Someone was there, and not anyone whose build she knew. She'd seen the outline of a man in a short-brimmed hat standing there with his hand on a doorknob, facing her without moving. It was Keerenn's doorknob. Who would be going into the room?

She felt toward the creepy intruder with nightsight, and a chill ran down her arms as she realized there was nothing. Whatever was in the hall was the same temperature as the cool night air. The same temperature as a corpse.

Then she heard the click of a door from the darkened hall just around the corner. She had to look, to see if it was real–one more look. 

She bit her lips, imagining the horrid flapping gait of the monster that had run at her and Kit and Caboodle that one time, except with this creature, running down the hall toward her the moment she moved. But she did–she peered around the corner once again, heart in her throat.

Her heart beat one more beat harder. The hall was empty, the door closed, now devoid of that silent shadow she had seen for just a moment, now cemented in her mind. She imagined it had disappeared, and was now flapping toward her invisibly, silently, and she would momentarily be choked, possessed, killed–she ducked back out of the hall, hand on the corner, panting.

"Calm down..." She whispered to herself. "Obviously you just expected to see something so much that you did. Idiot."

But what about the click?

The click had been the sound of a door shutting, she was sure of that. There must be someone down there–or some thing–in Keerenn's room. Even though that was completely impossible.

Suddenly a hand fell on her shoulder and she gasped in fright. The next moment a calloused hand was around her head and over her mouth.

"Shhh." She heard the man behind her say calmly.

Her heart hammered a beat against the hand pressing up to the side of her neck, but it was slowing down. The hand was warm, like the rest of the body. She had been so focused on the thing in the hall that she hadn’t felt whoever it was sneak up behind her.

"Are you going to be quiet?" The man whispered.

She nodded, shaky breaths slowing down.

He released her and turned her around by the shoulder, and for a moment, her eyes struggled to recognize the man's face, with his golden ponytail backlit by the candles on the wall behind him. The blue light from the window crossed over his face unhelpfully.

Then he straightened, and she recognized him by the lean, tall build--Striker Wry.

First chapter: Next chapter:

Taglist: @tildeathiwillwrite @mimostic @fleur-a-whump @a-n-j-a-maria

Per Tumblr's content policy, this is the non-nsfw version of Dance of Death.

For anyone following along on this story that wants the canon NSFW version of the story for free, I’m posting this story on ao3 as well, part by part. You can get the full book right away on amazon for $0.99, and if you like this book, it would mean so much to me if you leave a review of Dance of Death on Amazon.

[siegecoffeemug]

I wrote this on May 15th, still trying to understand and put my million questions into words.

They are still swirling throughout my mind.

Did i not communicate enough? I absolutely know i could have done better, and especially after trusting me enough to let me know some of the darker moments of your life. It meant a lot that you would share this all with me and i know that at some point you appreciated my understanding. Should i have asked you to share more? I didnt want to pry but in retrospect i wish id had at least let you know that you could if you ever wanted to. Im trying to think if i have ever betrayed your trust as surely that could be the reason that everything we built had to come apart. And i honestly dont believe that I ever did, given the importance I held in regards to what you had shared with me.

I always wanted to be better at small talk, but you made me comfortable enough with you, and told me you felt the same, to make me enjoy our times in silence in front of the telly so much, but we'd never just sit with any interaction would we?

Was i too comfortable with the level of love we'd achieved? I know i was broke, and still am, but I'd always rush to take you out at every opportunity but i truly loved the times when finances dictated we were limited to the flat and just enjoy each others company. You made me laugh and smile so fucking much.

Had we gone stale or something? I fucking hope not as my love for you grew and grew into the level it is today, one that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to extinguish. I definitely know the start to our year was slow but i didnt think it was anything to worry about, and typically enough that monday we finished, i was going to speak about our plans for the year, sheffield, LA, summer. I couldn't wait to get my mitts on you to fulfil that side of our relationship either. It aches so much to think that we only met like a quarter of our potential in that department too.

I wanted to watch you draw, paint, do calligraphy, do some zine stuff. I wanted to get you on one of my records somehow. I was so excited to learn and grow alongside you.

You were, and are, everything i think about, and my whole existence had developed into building myself into a man with a life you would be happy to share with, to be a partner who would love, trust, adore and care for you before all others. And this is why its so hard to accept. This is why its so hard to understand. And this is why it feels so impossible to stop loving you. As i had no notice or expectation that we'd even hit a difficult spot, never mind that we had passed the point of no return, my heart still beats for you and you alone, and i dont know if this will ever stop.

I had admired you from afar for years. I knew that you were beautiful . I knew you had the coolest fucking interests and tastes. I knew that as long as you were at least a nice person, that i quite possibly had found the love of my life.

And you were, and i know that this will never change.

I love you so much x

[dankusner]

Belushi mentions Big D murdered JFK — with Aykroyd & Bobbie Wygant.

44 things this Chicagoan didn’t know about ‘The Blues Brothers’ There are few Chicago cliches more overdone than the Blues Brothers.

Maybe hot dogs. OK, deep dish. The Bears logo. The Cubs logo. The Bean.

Then there’s that iconic silhouette — dark shades, black fedora, one thin guy, one meatball — an image so ubiquitous here, you’re more likely to run into it than the actual blues. 

“The Blues Brothers” movie, released in 1980, steeped in local lore forevermore, is often called the quintessential Chicago movie, and I’m certainly not alone in saying that if I never saw it again, nothing would be lost. 

It’s been drummed into my skin, bones and flab, indelibly. Which is why I instinctively rolled my eyes when I landed an early copy of this new history, “The Blues Brothers: An Epic Friendship, the Rise of Improv, and the Making of an American Film Classic.” 

Strictly for the tourists, I thought. What could this book possibly offer Chicago that hasn’t already been steamrolled into the local DNA?

The surprise is, plenty.

Daniel de Visé, a native South Sider, now a finance reporter at USA Today (and a Pulitzer Prize co-winner for his Elián González coverage at the Miami Herald), has compiled the definitive one-stop history of the Blues Brothers band, the film and a touching dual biography of John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, which Aykroyd refers to in the book as one of the great friendships, the ache still heard years after Belushi’s death.

It left me with so much to think about that, in the spirit of the Blues Brothers — in the spirit of not doing something unless you can overdo it — with input from de Visé and his absorbing cultural history, here are 44 thoughts, production notes and or just things that I did not know about “The Blues Brothers,” 44 years later.

1. The Blues Brothers began as a friendship. 

Belushi, a star of Second City Chicago, was visiting Canada, where Aykroyd was in Second City Toronto. 

Belushi sat in with the troupe, and one night at a bar after the show, Aykroyd, already a knowledgable R&B fan, played some blues records for Belushi, who was more of a heavy metal guy. 

This was 1974. Aykroyd explained that he haunted blues clubs, bringing along a harmonica; Belushi had played drums in The Ravens, his old band at Wheaton Central High School. Belushi suggested starting a band. Aykroyd already had an idea for one. Four years later, by the time they debuted on TV — on “Saturday Night Live,” where Belushi had become a superstar — that friendship was drifting. The band would join them at the hip, eternally.”

2. The name “The Blues Brothers” was suggested by Howard Shore, who overheard Belushi and Aykroyd at that bar and later became “SNL” bandleader from 1975 to 1980.

3. The Aykroyd family had been in Ottawa since 1810. His father was a civil servant and engineer under Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau. As a teenager, Aykroyd would sneak away to nearby Quebec and a small neighborhood full of music clubs called Little Chicago. He convinced bands to let him play harmonica. He was an uncanny imitator.

4. Belushi, like Aykroyd, did not have a blues-ready background. In Wheaton, his family was assumed to be Italian, and they never clarified; explaining they were Albanian was harder. Before trying on the rebel chic of Marlon Brando, he was a skilled debate club member and star linebacker. After a short stay at the University of Wisconsin, he enrolled at the College of DuPage, where he formed his first improv group, named West Compass Players in honor of Chicago’s seminal Compass Players. He also developed a pair of impressions: Richard J. Daley and Joe Cocker.

5. For Aykroyd, his blues revelation, de Visé said, came as a teenager, “when he saw Sam & Dave do ‘Hold On, I’m Coming’ at the 1967 World’s Fair in Montreal.” For Belushi, it came from Aykroyd, but also, while filming “Animal House” in Oregon, he saw a band, the Crayhawks, fronted by guitarist Robert Cray and harmonica star Curtis Salgado, “who looked and dressed and sounded like a real-life Blues Brother,” de Visé writes. Belushi was inspired, immersing himself in blues and R&B. Later, he brought up the Blues Brothers to “Animal House” director John Landis.

Mayor Jane Byrne accepted a check for $50,000 from Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi in her office on June 17, 1980, on behalf of the cast and crew of the film "The Blues Brothers" and Universal Studios. The donation was for children's and charitable organizations. (Tribune file photo)

Harvey Mayor Nick Graves of stands in one of the hallways inside the abandoned Dixie Square Mall in 2002. The mall was the first in the country to be enclosed under a roof, according to Graves. It was also the location for the filming of the "Blues Brothers" movie. (John Smierciak / Chicago Tribune)Dixie Square Shopping Center in 1967, more than a decade before it would be a location for "Blues Brothers" filming. (Tribune file photo)

“The Blues Brothers: An Epic Friendship, the Rise of Improv, and the Making of an American Film Classic" by Daniel de Visé (Atlantic Monthly Press, March 19, 2024).

6. The sunglasses came from an old hack of seasoned musicians: You couldn’t see how stoned, tired or drunk they looked if they wore them. That would come in helpful during the production of “The Blues Brothers” movie, since Belushi was often stoned or drunk.

7. The suits were partly inspired by Lenny Bruce, Aykroyd told de Visé, but also, they connected the Blues Brothers to Black R&B performers who still wore formal suits on stage in the 1970s, at a time when rock musicians dressed in T-shirts and jeans.

8. The Blues Brothers were intended to be a tribute band, which means the small cottage industry of Blues Brothers tribute bands today — The Blooze Brothers, Hats and Shades, The Blues Brotherhood, et al. — are tribute bands that celebrate a tribute band.

9. While it may seem self-evident that, if they were founded today, the Blues Brothers would be quickly accused of appropriating Black culture, they were loudly accused of appropriation in the 1970s, too. “Especially in the alternative press,” de Visé said. “Some were outraged, and when the film came out, well, how offensive it seems to have James Brown and Aretha Franklin in bit roles behind white guys playing their music?” Except, it was done with humor and affection for the originators, who also played it funny on stage, Aykroyd reminds us in the book. “The result is,” de Visé said, “if you want to see Ray Charles or Aretha Franklin now, that movie is an extraordinary document.”

10. Universal, the studio, did not want Ray Charles, James Brown, Cab Calloway or Aretha Franklin in the film. Their careers, particularly Calloway’s, looked over. (Instead of Franklin, they wanted Rose Royce, of “Car Wash.”) After the movie was a success, each had a comeback. As Brown told People, the film “gave us all another chance.”

11. B.B. King was sought for the movie; indeed, the idea for this history came to de Visé while working on a biography of King. He asked Landis why King didn’t appear in the film. King had been asked. His manager said he was busy. King learned this years later.

12. Some members of the Blues Band doubted Belushi’s sincerity — at first.

13. Looking again, with fresh eyes, decades later, Belushi does stand out as the weak link musically. Aykroyd, a natural method actor, buries himself in Elwood Blues; the band — particularly, Steve Cropper and Donald “Duck” Dunn — were hallowed R&B veterans who had played on some of the original recordings this new band was covering. But Belushi’s singing is harsh, even phony. “He’s unquestionably a weak link,” de Visé agreed. “But his strength was the performance, and when they toured, they got ecstatic reviews based on Belushi as a frontman, not as an accomplished soul singer.”

14. Lorne Michaels, creator of “SNL,” was iffy on the Blues Brothers, so Belushi and Aykroyd first became Jake and Elwood with the “SNL” band, warming up the live show.

15. Two-and-a-half years later, Michaels asked them to warm up the show again. This went over so well that, two weeks later, the Blues Brothers debuted on “SNL,” in a 1978 episode hosted by Steve Martin (who performed his classic “King Tut” that same night).  Pianist Paul Shaffer introduced the Blues Brothers with a wink to appropriation and sincerity, saying they just flew in from Chicago’s South Side and “are no longer an authentic blues act, but have managed to become a viable commercial product.” Shaffer was set to act in the Blues Band when it jumped to movies, but “SNL” star Gilda Radner was developing a concert album, with hopes of a concert film, produced by Lorne Michaels. Out of loyalty to both, he opted out and chose the Radner project.”]

16. Aykroyd wrote the first draft of the screenplay, later credited to him and Landis. If you ever wondered why the plot hinges on a Catholic school unable to pay taxes even though Catholic schools are tax-exempt, so did de Visé. Aykroyd, a Canadian, had never heard of this very American tax loophole, but swore that when he was part of Second City in Chicago, he saw a story about it in a newspaper. De Visé couldn’t find that article. (I couldn’t, either.)

By placing first in the high school spirit contest sponsored by WMET and Coca-Cola in 1978, Marian Catholic won over $30,000 in prizes, including a $13,000 custom van! Oh and did we mention the band Foghat also played a free concert at the school?Pictured: Sr. Mary Alberta, Sr. Margaret Ann, and Sr. Judith Anne standing beside the custom van on the day of arrival. 

17. Fittingly, for one of the first days of production, the very first images in the movie were shot: A sweeping, billowing industrial hellscape of South Works steel mill on the Calumet River. Landis said they shot over the plant without permission, and cinematographer Stephen Katz told de Visé that they were “hanging out the door of the chopper” with the camera. Security for the factory eventually noticed and shot at them.

18. De Visé’s history, scene after scene, is a queasy taxonomy of a very different era of film production, with a disturbing willingness to push the envelope, safety-wise. “You could say standards were looser,” he laughed. “Safety standards were more impressionistic. Plus, the amount of drugs readily available … And when they shot the trashing of the shopping mall, there were so many cars, inside a building, crew had to step outside because they were complaining about the toxic fumes in the place.”

19. That mall sequence — in which the Blues Brothers lead cops in a high-speed car chase at an indoor shopping mall — was filmed at the Dixie Square Mall in Harvey, which had been closed for a year when the production restored many of its storefronts.

20. While shooting the mall scene, Belushi disappeared. Aykroyd told de Visé he noticed a “path kind of leading out of the weed-strewn parking lot into a suburban neighborhood.” It was so late he knocked on the door of the only house with lights on. The homeowner answered, stepped back and revealed Belushi asleep on his couch. While the film was in production, the Eagles, performing at Chicago Stadium, sang from the stage: “Looking for Belushi / Let’s go get some sushi.” (Belushi obliged.) Belushi – who was known for wandering off sets, only to call for a ride hours later – seemed to predict his behavior a year earlier on “SNL,” in a famous sketch called “The Thing That Wouldn’t Leave.” (Bill Murray: “We both have to be at work really early tomorrow morning, see.” Belushi: “God I’m thirsty – is there anything in the fridge?”)

21. Belushi was paid $500,000 for the movie; Aykroyd was paid $250,000.

22. For the duration of the four-month Chicago production, Belushi and Aykroyd were put up in Astor Towers on the Gold Coast and given one entire floor each.

23. Universal paid Chicago police officers $16.50 an hour to work on the movie. Official squad cars cost the studio $30 a day each (and had to be returned with full tanks of gas). For crash scenes, the film bought more than 60 retired police cars, for $400 each.

24. The climatic Daley Plaza sequence — featuring helicopters, tanks, National Guard — cost Universal $3.5 million. Driving the Bluesmobile through the glass windows of the ground floor of Daley Center cost $17,000. The scene was shot over Labor Day weekend, to ensure crew could replace the glass before employees returned Tuesday.

25. My favorite line in the film is when, headed downtown, with a path of destruction in their wake, Belushi casually mentions to Aykroyd that Daley Plaza is “where they got that Picasso.” A note of subtlety in a comedy that gets decidedly mad, mad, mad, mad.

26. Production shut down so much of Chicago that, after one fraught July weekend, Chicago Tribune columnist Bob Wiedrich wondered how many motorists were being trapped in traffic jams on the Eisenhower Expressway and Lake Shore Drive during a national energy crisis. (Gas was averaging $1.03 a gallon, about $4.30 in 2024 dollars.)

27. Other than Mayor Jane Byrne — who OK’d many of the largest scenes after decades of resistance to Hollywood production by Mayor Richard J. Daley — Landis’s most powerful ally was legendary Chicago attorney Sidney Korshak, whose clients had included Al Capone and Jimmy Hoffa. Korshak was friends with Universal Pictures chief Lew Wasserman, so Landis asked Korshak to smooth the wheels around town.

28. The car jump over the bridge on 95th Street at the beginning of the movie had to be performed twice because Landis was not satisfied with the car’s landing the first time.

29. To shoot the Bluesmobile racing beneath the CTA tracks, a camera was strapped to a car headed westbound on Lake Street, going 110 miles per hour. It was done in a single take.

30. As often as it’s noted that “The Blues Brothers” is a time capsule of a Chicago no longer recognizable, the Maxwell Street scenes play like a short documentary of a lost city. Hand-painted wooden signs, white plumes of smoke wafting off grills, bustling crowds.

31. Those streets, crammed with extras, also played witness to another sort of Chicago documentary: A Chicago police officer assigned to the set shouted into a bullhorn that the mostly Black crowd would go to jail if they didn’t obey Landis, which caused Landis — “What are you talking about?” — to loudly call out the cop for racism.

32. Considering how many interiors in the movie were shot on the Universal backlot, the film plays like a testament to how influential the eye of a good location scout can be. Ray Charles’s pawnshop was in Bronzeville (but the interior was shot in Los Angeles). James Brown’s church was the now 107-year-old Pilgrim Baptist of South Chicago on East 91st Street (but interiors were faithful reproductions of the church, also shot in Los Angeles).

33. The young female gospel singer that Landis cuts to several times during the James Brown church sequence is the great funk singer Chaka Khan, a native of Hyde Park.

34. That’s the famed Chez Paul in River North where the Blues Brothers perform a sliding parallel park. But the restaurant interior was so degraded by 1979 — “cracked wallpaper, peeling paint, a hundred little horrors cloaked by soft candlelight,” de Visé writes — the production rebuilt the dining room at Universal.

35. Those are real prisoners in real jail cells in the Joliet Prison scenes.

36. De Visé solved something I always wondered about: When the Bluesmobile breaks into pieces across from Daley Plaza, the effect was achieved by pre-cutting an entire car into dozens of chunks, then stitching it back together and holding the whole thing in place with a steel cable. When a special-effects guy tugged the cable, the car collapsed.

37. The mural outside Ray Charles’ pawnshop in Bronzeville — which was painted for the movie, and, at the insistence of Landis, included an image of B.B. King, so that the blues legend could kinda still be seen in the movie — was lost in 2020 when the building was demolished after a fire. The space had housed an actual pawnshop since 1946.

38. During production, Belushi was watched by a Texan named Morris Lyda, tasked with keeping him off drugs. Later that job fell to a former Secret Service agent that Belushi hired on the recommendation of Joe Wash. However, by the time production wrapped in Chicago, Landis told de Visé that Belushi almost died two times from drugs: “We ended up taking the door off his room and calling the paramedics, because he had basically overdosed.”

39. The ground zero of drug use during production was the Blues Bar that Belushi and Aykroyd built in Old Town as a private club, in a small space behind Earl of Old Town on Wells Street. The city closed it down in 1982, the same year Belushi died of an overdose in Los Angeles. He was 33.

40. The last time the Blues Brothers played the Chicago area was June 1980, at Poplar Creek Music Theater in Hoffman Estates. They opened and closed with “I Can’t Turn You Loose.”

41. Soon before he died, Belushi got into punk and gave away his blues records.

42. Personally, that last detail is probably the saddest. I wish I could say that I was cool enough as a kid to just listen to Otis Redding and Sam & Dave, but it’s probably the Blues Brothers that led me to that rich wellspring; in high school, among my prized possessions were all seven volumes of “Atlantic Rhythm & Blues 1947-1974” (on vinyl). De Visé remembered something similar: “I first saw the movie on a bootleg videotape from a store near my father’s house, but what I remember is it didn’t make me want to buy a Blues Brothers record. It made me want to buy ‘The Best of Sam & Dave.‘ Which is what I think Aykroyd wanted this to do from the start.”

43. When Aykroyd got the call that his partner had died, he was writing the dialogue for the pair’s next big-screen blockbuster, “Ghostbusters.” (Belushi’s part was taken by Murray.)

44. “The Blues Brothers” became the first film spun off “SNL.” “All the years later, is there a better one?” de Visé asked me. “There’ve been good, lots of bad, but this is better than it had any right. I think Gene Siskel in the Tribune nailed it when he said they delivered one of the best comedies ever, period. He wrote ‘Boy, is that ever a surprise.’ ”

[northernglorie]

many times, she's set foot on the royal grounds of winterfell. some as a precocious child, others as a representative of the crowns finances, and more than shed like as the sister of a traitor. never did she think becoming a member of the royal member would join the reasons that brought her here. after what she thought would be the demise of her house, she'd expected to be shunned by the wolves in any unifying actions. inacio never let her forget how low they were, how unforgivable their institution became in the eyes of the realm. nosotros no volvemos de esto. we don't come back from this.

if she spoke without regard to the way a lady should, she'd say her existence at this moment in time is a giant fuck you to that sentiment. while he runs off to play defector with the umbers, glorie is happening upon advantages for both her family and herself. every advantage has its disadvantage, though. the mistrust she feels from the eldest stark, while deserved, has made glories assimilation to the brood less harmonious than she'd like. yet another bridge domeric struck a match upon before his departure, but she has every intention to rebuild it.

she's grateful to have found familiarity with the two youngest sisters, one of whom she recognizes in her pursuit of something to quell her aching stomach. "princess," smile takes over content features. she's not used to referring to the starks as family, but it doesnt stop her from feeling a connection with lyanna. "it does lack in color when ones been surrounded by the rich palettes of highgarden, but the north has its own charm. give it time, you'll feel the ice in your veins soon enough." spoken with humor, yet meant with intent. she knew what it felt like to be whispered about as if she wasn't in the same room. the adjustment period necessary in a place that's supposed to act as home. she understood the need to dissect the difference on every piece of decor from the ones in her own home, to make sense of new surroundings and she felt it brought her closer to her new kin.

"until then, i welcome you to join me where we might find more warmth. i spent sometime in my youth running rampant through raventree hall, we can share stories of its beauty. and if we hurry, we can speak over freshly baked rolls."

who: @northernglorie

where: winterfell common area, after coming home from highgarden

the journey home was long and unbearable, lyanna absolutely could've done without treading all the way to highgarden but it was only duty to show up to coronations and weddings, especially with her highborn title. it was expected from the princess; she felt obligated, especially after seeing her brother, adam, at the coronation. lyanna was nervous to speak to her brother-wolf, even though bonded by blood, she couldn't help but feel so estranged from the stark male. it was strange to say she had six other siblings but only felt close with maybe two, the rest seeming more like strangers than blood.

although lyanna felt completely isolated from her brother, there was his wife who had taken a liking to the she-wolf, which brought her some joy. maybe this was my chance to get to know two people at once. lyanna donned her house colors, looking exceptionally striking in her grey and black robes adorned with black jewels and silver fittings, adjusting to wearing her hair like a northern lady.

making her way through the hallways, lyanna's sapphire eyes fell upon the lady she was looking for; the lady of the evening. all she heard was whispers of lyanna being home, a stark girl raised with blackwoods, that she wasn't a real stark, but also whispers of the new stark wife which would be her sister-in-law. with a bright smile to show her teeth, lyanna approached glorie with a cheerful tone in her usual monotone voice. "hello dear sister, how are you enjoying the castle? i find it a bit drab, i think it could do with more warmth, but maybe i'm just not used to the cold yet."