#hey this turned out pretty good though so

[cameronsprincess]

Do you think you could do somwething with season 4 rafe x pogue reader. Using I need to hear you not just feel you

raaaaah yeah yeah! season 4 rafey with a pogue!reader is😣😍 alsooo “i need to hear you not just feel you” is so yummy.

CW: smut! 18+ only! drinking, reader and rafe’s first time hanging out, fem receiving oral, strong language ig?

note: yeah i used sofia in this, but simply bc she has on the island club outfit and reader is a bartender at the island club!

masterlists.

rafe cameron.

that name sent most people running the other direction on this island— especially people like you… a pogue. but rafe didn’t scare you away, no, instead he intrigued you.

people had always been slightly scared of rafe, the man had a reputation for sure, and he lived up to that reputation. it wasn’t until his dad had died though that he’d really become a force to reckon with. rafe was careless in the way he handled things, he had the entire police force in his pocket, could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted.

so why were you so interested in a man who could do you more harm than good? the answer wasn’t simple. you’d honestly loved the darkness that surrounded him, but you’d never speak that out loud, so instead you settled on the fact that he was just damn good to look at.

tall, broad shoulders, big arms, nice hands. tanned skin that paired beautifully with his ocean-blue eyes. he’d buzzed his hair in the last year, it suited him. any time you saw him, your mind buzzed with thoughts of running your hands over his buzzed head, sinking your blunt nails into his tanned and toned shoulders, roaming your hands over every inch of perfectly chiseled skin on his body. the thought of his perfectly plump and pink lips on yours sent an electrifying bout of pleasure rushing straight to your clit.

you were leaned up against the bar at the island club, your mind swirling in on all the dirty thoughts you’d had about rafe cameron as you stared at him from across the room. the man was a walking fucking heart throb, tanned skin, tight white polo— the sleeves squeezing at his biceps snugly — light khakis and designer shoes. his large, veiny hand gripped a whiskey glass, the rim of it pressed against his bottom lip.

as if he could feel your intense stare, he looked over at you. deep, bottomless pools of blue staring right back at you. your heart dropped into your throat, a shiver coasting down your spine as you held his stare. he smiled, winked and then returned to his conversation.

“hey, we need more bud lights from the back, you just gonna eye fuck rafe all night or can you go get it?” your co-worker, estelle, snipped.

you turned your attention on her, giving a small fake smile. she could be a bitch, but she’d meant well.

“yeah, sure thing i’ll go grab it. how many cases?”

she rolled her eyes, loudly smacking her gum before smiling. “two.”

you let out a slow breath, sliding past her and through the dining area. once you reached the double push doors that lead into the kitchen, your hand reaches out to step inside but a warm, rough grip landing on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“didn’t anyone teach you it isn’t polite to stare?” rafe’s deep, smooth voice said, the sound traveling straight between your legs.

your eyes flit down to where he’s grasping your wrist, butterflies and warmth filling your tummy at the feel of his skin against yours. his touch burned your skin, warming you from the inside out. you stared at him for a short moment, a small smile tilting his lips at your lack of response.

“can you not speak?” he says lowly.

you startle from your trance, forcing your eyes on his. blue. so fucking blue you felt as if you’d drown if you stared too long.

you finally shook your wrist from his grasp, pushing open the kitchen doors, stopping halfway inside before you said, “i’m sorry… i- i don’t really have a reason for staring i just.. my apologies mr. cameron.”

sucking in a deep breath you disappear into the kitchen, rounding a corner and pulling open the walk-in coolers door. you step inside, shaking off the nerves and tension that ran through you. looking down at your wrist you swore you could still feel him, touching you, gripping your wrist so tightly you thought he wanted to burn his fingerprints into your skin.

the cold air of the large cooler did nothing to tame the fire burning throughout your entire body. you’d lived on this island your entire life, grown up here, you’d known who rafe was since you were old enough to grasp people’s names. but he’d never acknowledged your existence, not until today.

you slowly breathe in through your nose, slowly pushing it back out through your mouth. it was fine. you were fine. he’s just another man.

after collecting yourself you’d decided you’d been back here long enough, estelle was going to rip you a new one for taking so long to grab two cases of bud light, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. gripping the two cases of beer, you pushed the cooler door open with your shoulder, made your way through the kitchen and back into the dining area. with your head down, firm grip on the cases of beer, you walked straight to the bar.

a scoff sounds behind you, making you roll your eyes to yourself.

“if i would’ve known it’d take you nearly twenty minutes to grab two cases of beer, i would’ve just done it myself.” estelle snips, jerking the two cases from your hands and making her way to the other end of the bar.

you let out a defeated sigh, bracing your hands on the bar and letting your head hang. there was only three hours left in your shift. you’d be fine, you could do this.

but when you lifted your head, looking back in the direction of where rafe stood, your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you found he was already looking right at you.

—

“thank you mr. jennings, i’ll be sure to bring you some apple pie next time i make it,” you smile at the older gentleman as he finishes his drink, setting the glass down and wishing you a good night. “good night, sir. get home safely.”

once the older man disappears out the front doors you let out a long sigh. you were exhausted. he was the last guest in for the night, and you were ready to close the bar down and go home.

your boss locks the doors, nothing but the sounds of kitchen workers moving about to close the kitchen and a faint beat of the music playing through the club’s speakers filled the air.

you make quick work of wiping everything down, organizing the liquor bottles— most expensive up top, mid priced in the middle and cheap liquor down low — and setting the last bit of glasses into the bars dishwasher. once you finish, you wipe your hands on a worn white sani-rag, printing out your end of the night report and grab your stuff before heading into the back to collect your money for the night.

it doesn’t take long to get settled with josh, exiting his office and clocking out before you’re stepping out into the back parking lot. the humid, salty air hits your skin and you suck in a welcome breath, not realizing you’d been desperate for fresh air until now.

“can we talk about that staring problem of yours now?”

your body tenses at the low, raspy voice. you slowly turn toward the parking spaces, finding rafe cameron leaned against his truck, arms crossed over his chest.

“i.. why are you back here? members park out front, you know?”

rafe laughs, pushing off his truck and tucking his hands in his pockets. “yeah, well, i knew you’d be back here.”

your heart skips a beat, the humid air feeling thicker all of a sudden, making it hard to breathe. you pull your hair out of the messy bun you’d put it in while closing the bar, letting your unruly strands fall down your back. rafe’s eyes tracked the movements, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“still can’t speak? it’s not polite to ignore. we really need to work on your manners. staring, not responding when spoken to…”

he slowly begins walking toward you, your heart pounding wildly in your chest with every step he took. it isn’t until he’s standing directly in front of you that you snap out of the trance you’d been in, taking one slow step back.

rafe smirks, a small and subtle smirk but it’s there nonetheless.

“are you scared of me?” he says lowly, taking one step forward, closing the distance again.

“no.” you breathed out, swallowing thickly and staring up into his eyes.

he reaches out a hand, running his ringed fingers down your cheek. you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut. rafe’s hand drops back down to his side, “you going home for the night?”

you blink rapidly, trying to clear the lust filled fog that’s clouded your mind. “y-yeah. i’m going home.”

he chuckles. “come to my house, we can hang out.”

what? did rafe cameron just invite you to come hang out at tannyhill? the part of you that was infatuated with him was jumping for joy, you’d always wondered what it’d be like to hang out with rafe cameron. but the logical part of you was questioning why he wanted to hang out with you.

“w-why?” you asked hesitantly.

rafe’s fingers grab at a piece of your hair, twirling it around in his fingers before dropping it. “could be fun. come on, don’t tell me you’re scared of fun?”

your breath hitches in your throat. you’re not sure why he’s being so persistent, but you don’t want him to think you’re just like everyone else on this island, terrified of him. with a bright smile, you reply, “of course not. let’s go, could be fun, right?”

rafe grins, the sides of his eyes crinkling from how big his smile was. “right. let’s go.”

he grabs your hand, pulling you the few steps back toward his truck and opening the passenger door for you. once you’re inside and buckled, he closes it, and you take the few seconds it takes him to round the truck and get in to soak in your surroundings.

it smells like him. expensive cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke. the smell is oddly intoxicating. you breathe in deeply through your nose, letting it out slowly as your eyes take in the expensive leather interior, running your finger across the dash. not a speck of dust in sight, not surprising for a man like rafe cameron.

rafe climbs into his truck, his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as he stares over at you. you force yourself to meet his gaze, chuckling nervously. “what?”

he breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and running his hands down the sides of the steering wheel, placing his key in the ignition and bringing the trucks engine to life. “nothing.”

the drive to tannyhill isn’t long, maybe ten minutes tops, but the silence that filled the air between the two of you was so thick, filled with something you couldn’t quite discern. rafe stops outside the tall, metal gates, rolling his window down and typing a code into the small security code box. the gates roll open slowly, and rafe pulls up the long driveway, stopping his truck at the front door.

he kills the engine, casting you a quick glance before he’s opening his door. “you coming?” he asks.

you swallow around the nerves you’re feeling, nodding your head and opening your own door. you follow rafe silently up the steps to the front porch, stopping behind him while he makes quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

he steps inside, tossing his keys onto a table beside the door before walking toward the kitchen, leaving you to shut the door and stand awkwardly in the entryway. he pops his head around a corner seconds later, “you gonna stand there all night, or do you want a drink?”

oh. well, you should’ve known he wanted you to follow him, that was your mistake. you were just so nervous, you couldn’t think straight.

you made your way into the kitchen, finding rafe standing at the large marble island that sat in the middle of the spacious room. he smiles when his eyes find yours. “stop being so nervous, ahhh.. sorry, what was your name again?”

you smile, telling him your name before shifting the conversation to his house. “this place is nice, did you get it when your dad-” you stopped yourself, noticing the tension in his shoulders before he quickly shook it off, turning to grab two glasses out of the cupboard. he places them gently on the island, grabbing an expensive bottle of whiskey from another cupboard and pouring one of the glasses full. “whiskey?” he asks, his eyebrows rose as he watched you.

“no thank you, i’ll just have water.”

he laughs at that. “if you insist.”

he opens the fridge, pouring water into your cup from one of those fancy filtered water pitchers before placing it back in its spot and handing you the glass. he grabs his own glass, bringing it to his lips and studying your features.

he lets out a breath, sipping from his glass before setting it down and leaning back against the counter. “so, how long have you lived here, sweetheart?”

you choke on your sip of water, the pet name catching you completely off guard. you lift your head to find an amused rafe staring back at you, the corners of his lips slightly lifted in a smirk. “shit, sorry,” you apologize.

he laughs, a deep, true laugh before pushing off the counter and grabbing you some paper towels. he lets you wipe your face before he’s cleaning off the counter top and tossing the paper towels into the trash. he makes his way back toward you, his eyes dragging slowly from your feet all the way up to the top of your head. he bites at his bottom lip, “you never answered me, how long have you lived on kildare?”

you crane your neck to look up into his eyes. “my whole life.. so twenty-three years.”

he reaches out to push some hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “so you’re only two years younger than me.. and you work at the club, so you’re not from figure eight… pogue i’m assuming?”

you swallow around the knot in your throat, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you when rafe reaches out and pulls your bottom lip from between your teeth, his thumb pressing firmly against it before he’s pulling away.

“you’re very pretty, it’s a shame i didn’t know you existed until now.”

his words stung more than they should’ve. you knew he didn’t know you existed, it was painfully obvious in the way he never recognized your pining for him since you were old enough to understand what it meant to have feelings for a boy. he was kook prince. high up on the food chain. and you were just… you. but hearing him say it out loud was like a slap to the face.

rafe’s warm hand cupping your cheek snaps you out of your pity party, his words caressing you. “stop thinking so much. i was a piece of shit back then, you know it. i know it. this entire goddamn island knows it.”

you knit your brows in confusion. “you’re not a piece of shit, rafe. you went through a lot.”

he gives a dry laugh. “that’s the understatement of the century.”

he turns to grab his glass, downing it in one go before he’s facing you again. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and the air is so thick with sexual tension you could cut it with a knife. rafe’s eyes flit from yours and down to your lips, his thoughts written all over his face. he wanted to kiss you.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, watching as rafe tracks the movement with his eyes. he groans, the sound deep and causing your panties to grow wet with arousal. when rafe’s eyes meet yours again they’re dark with lust, the tension in the room now suffocating you.

“rafe.. what do you-”

your words die on your tongue when rafe grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling your face into his and smashing his lips with yours. your hands grip at his arms, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving behind crescent shaped moons in his smooth skin. rafe groans into your mouth, his hands running down your sides and gripping your thighs. his rough palms squeeze at your bare thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the counter.

you moan when rafe’s lips trail from your lips to your neck, working down to your jaw and chest. his teeth nip at your jawline, pulling a small whimper from you. he soothes where he’d bitten with his tongue, the wet and warm muscle against your skin causing goosebumps to sprout on your arms.

“take this off.” rafe groans, his fingers tugging at your island club polo that’s tucked into your baby blue skirt.

you quickly comply, pulling the polo out from where its tucked into your skirt and over your head. your eyes land on rafe’s both of your chests heaving with heavy breaths as you sit shirtless in front of the man you’d only ever dreamed about.

rafe’s fingers brush up the length of your bare stomach, stopping once they reach the under wire of your bra. he flattens his hand, running it up and over the fabric of your lace bra, cupping one of your tits in his hand and squeezing at it softly. your hands fly behind you, palms flat against the countertop while you throw your head back. rafe switches to the other breast, giving it equal attention, pinching a nipple between his fingers and pulling before releasing.

the loss of rafe’s touch has your head lifting, finding him standing in front of you, breathless and unsure of what to do next. you reach your hand out, tugging at his white polo, silently begging him to take it off.

rafe pulls off the shirt, tossing it to the floor with yours before his eyes are on you again. “you sure about this? we don’t even know each other… we don’t have-”

you shush him, running your hands up his toned stomach before wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull him forward, placing a soft kiss against his lips. “shhh.. don’t ruin it, rafe. don’t think about it. just do it. whatever you want.”

rafe’s eyes darken at your words. you’d just told him he could do whatever he wanted with you. he kisses you again, soft and slow while his fingers made quick work unclasping your bra, letting it fall in your lap. next he’s working your skirt off you, breaking his lips from yours to take in the lacey white thong you wore. he smirked when he saw the small wet patch in your panties.

“someone’s needy.” he jokes, pushing his fingers into the waistband and sliding the panties down your thighs. you lift your ass off the counter to help him remove your thong, watching him intently as he tosses it to the floor.

your lips slightly part, opening them to speak but a squeal comes out in their place when rafe grips your thighs and pulls your ass toward the edge of the counter. “lay back f’me, spread your legs.”

you do as he says, laying back against the counter, your feet flat on the edge as you spread your legs wide for him. a low growl rumbles out of rafe when his eyes land on your swollen, dripping pussy.

“god you’re so wet,” he rasps, dropping into a squatted position, his face pressing between your legs and inhaling your scent. “smell so fuckin’ sweet… bet you taste sweet too.”

a moan escapes you when rafe’s lips begin kissing at your inner thighs, working their way toward your clit. he softly kisses your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips bucking up. rafe chuckles, placing one hand on your hip and pushing you back down while his other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

he licks a hot stripe through your slick folds up to your clit, giving it a slight flick of his tongue. your head rolls to the side on the counter, hands flying to his buzzed head. you run your hands over his head, relishing in the feel of his buzzcut beneath your palms, moans and whimpers escaping you as rafe works your pussy with his mouth and tongue. he sucks your clit into his mouth, releasing your thigh and pressing his middle finger inside you.

he mumbles something unintelligible against your pussy, the vibrations making your inner walls flutter around his finger. rafe slowly works his finger in and out of you, slipping another inside when your thighs tense against the counter. he sucks and flicks at your clit, his fingers pushing in and out of you at a fast pace. you’re so close to coming, you can feel it in the way your body was tensing and your pussy was pulsing.

rafe releases your clit with a pop, his darkened over eyes finding yours as he continued to work you with his fingers. “i need to hear you, baby. not just feel you. let me hear how good you feel.”

your hands fall, a loud thwack resounding in the air from how hard you’d smacked the countertop. you scream out rafe’s name, your legs shaking as rafe goes back to sucking and licking at your clit, his thick fingers never slowing their movements.

“oh god… rafe! please? please fuck… feels so good.” you moan, your fingers digging into his neck again.

you feel rafe smile against your pussy, his tongue giving slow licks to your clit before he’s sucking it into his mouth again. your orgasm rushes through your seconds later, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you grip rafe’s neck, trying to keep yourself grounded.

rafe’s tongue and fingers work you through the high, never stopping until your body goes limp on the counter. he removes his face from between your legs, standing to his full height and smiling down at you.

“yeah… you’re so fuckin’ sweet.” rafe rasps, popping the button of his khakis before pulling down the zipper and sliding them down his legs. once he removes his boxers, your eyes widen at the sight of his long and thick cock.

rafe smirks, stroking himself slowly as he says, “don’t worry baby, it’s gonna feel so good. just lay back and let me take care of you.”

tagging some moots: @quinnsbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa @rafescvntyclubgf @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @maybejj @cherryobx @memoirofasparklemuff1n @kiiyomei @dementedkittenribbon @hauntedfawnn

[captainmalewriter]

Crown Legend

Alex Gonzalez lived by one motto in life: work hard, play hard. Those four short words were all the young Latino needed to motivate himself every morning before work. Working in construction was no walk in the park, but it paid good money, and money was Alex’s second favorite thing in life (the first being women, of course). 

The clock struck 6PM that Friday evening. As always, Alex was the first one to clock out and leave. 

There was going to be a huge party at La Rana Mojada tonight. Alex knew he just needed to be there. He drove back to his apartment in record time and ran inside with great excitement, only to go into a coughing fit due to a strong smell assaulting his nose as soon as he walked in. The cause of the smell stood a few feet away from him in the form of his roommate Rico, who was already dressed to the 9s and ready to head out. 

“Aye pa, what the fuck is that smell?” Alex said. Rico grinned before responding. 

“It’s this new cologne that just hit the markets. Crown Legend. Shit’s expensive as fuck but I was able to snatch one up before they sold out again. Smells good, huh,”

“Yeah it smells alright but fuck man it’s too strong!!”

“You think so? I haven’t noticed, but hey, the bitches go crazy for Crown Legend! Check it, these two blonde chicks were all over me after they caught a whiff of me!”

Rico whipped his phone out and showed Alex photographic proof. The women surrounding Rico in the photos were gorgeous, with their glossy lips and massive racks. Alex couldn’t lie; he was impressed by his roommate’s game, maybe even a little bit envious too. 

“So wassup, you’re coming to La Rana tonight right?” Rico asked.

“Yeah man. I just gotta get ready first. I’ll catch you down there, save me a shot alright.” 

The two men dapped each other up and went their separate ways. Alex showered and then went to his room to get dressed for the night. 

Alex couldn’t stop thinking about Crown Legend as he got ready. The cologne’s overwhelming scent made him dislike it. But despite its strength, it did smell pretty damn good. Plus, Alex couldn’t deny the success it brought with the ladies. The cologne already helped his roommate pull a couple of bad bitches. If it helped Rico, surely it would help him too. 

As that last thought crossed his mind, Alex found himself unconsciously walking over to Rico’s room. He grabbed the blue bottle from the top of his dresser. Even from just the feel of the sleek bottle in his hand, Alex could tell it was very high-quality cologne. No doubt Rico spent a lot of money just to buy it…

Alex decided to give himself a quick spritz on his wrists. He went in for a quick sniff, only to go back for a deeper sniff once the scent filled his nose. The cologne had a luxurious scent that smelled of aged oud coupled with amber resin and a touch of citrus. All he needed was to get over the initial shock of how strong it was to realize how great it smelled. Alex wasn’t sure what got into him; he just couldn’t get enough of it! 

Then, against his better judgment, he showered himself in Crown Legend. He sprayed it all over his neck, chest, and arms, only stopping once he was fully doused in the expensive cologne. Once he was satisfied, Alex put back the cologne bottle and returned to his room like nothing happened. He finished getting ready and then left for La Rana.

The party was already in full swing by the time Alex had arrived. Heads were turning the moment he walked in, though that was mostly because of the obscene amount of cologne he was wearing. Alex loved all the attention regardless. He walked over to the bar with a haughty strut, downed two shots of tequila like it was water, and proceeded to flirt with any woman who caught his eye. By the end of the hour, he was out on the dance floor with a beautiful, busty brunette as his dancing partner. Alex almost couldn’t believe how quickly he scored that night. His success cleared the last bit of doubt in his mind. Crown Legend was a game-changer!

As Alex danced and drank the night away, he began to notice something strange happening to him. Even though he was surrounded by some of the hottest women he had ever seen, he found himself eyeing some of the men in the club. He quickly corrected his line of sight back to a woman every time he caught himself checking out some dude. Yet despite his efforts, Alex just couldn’t resist the male eye candy all around him. Alex licked his lips as he watched with hungry eyes various men swaying their hips to the rhythm of the music, their skin glistening with sweat underneath the strobing club lights. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get close to one of those men and—

“What the fuck’s going on with me…” Alex held a hand to his temples. The music was way too loud all of a sudden. The lights too bright. Desperate to escape the over-stimulating environment, he rushed to the bathroom and ran inside an empty stall. As he tried catching his breath, Alex noticed how hot he was. His clothes were clinging to his body with how sweaty he was. He decided to strip down to just his underwear to cool down, hoping it would help whatever was going on inside his mind and body. 

Alex sighed. As he leaned against the bathroom wall, a certain moist sound coming from the neighboring stall perked up his ears. Like most men, Alex almost immediately recognized the fapping sound. He turned and saw some guy’s pants hanging around his hairy ankles. There was also a sizable hole covered up with toilet paper in the divider separating the two stalls. He must’ve missed these details due to how fast he ran in. Coupled with the stifled groan the guy just let out, it became all too clear what was going on. 

Normally, Alex would’ve been disgusted by what he was witnessing, but that wasn’t the case this time. Instead, he listened to the sensual sounds of some guy stroking his cock like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. There was something exciting about meeting another man in a public bathroom. Alex could feel how fast his heart beat as he massaged his nipple, letting out a small grunt with every pinch he gave himself. The man groaned a little bit louder in response, encouraging Alex to join in on the fun. And so he did. 

He took a step forward. His socks were now visible to whoever was in the other stall. A moment passed without either of them saying or doing anything else. Then, the man took the rolled-up paper out of the hole and leaned in, giving Alex a clear sight of both his lips and the bushy facial hair he had. The sight of another man’s mouth, ready and eager to please, pushed Alex over the edge. Before he knew it, a massive tent had already formed in his underwear. No longer able to hold back, Alex took off the last piece of clothes he had on and slipped his hard member into the hole. The man took him inside his mouth and began sucking away on his sensitive tip.

“Ugh? Oooohhhh…”

Alex threw his arms behind his head as the pleasure from the man working his way down his meat overtook him. He titled his head into his hairy armpit and sniffed it. The mix of his own body musk combined with Crown Legend was delightfully intoxicating, causing him to let out an obscene moan with every whiff. 

The man had a warm, wet mouth and he knew how to keep a firm grip with his lips. The man took his time too, making sure to give every inch of Alex’s dick some attention before eventually taking Alex’s entire length down his throat. It drove Alex crazy every time the man’s thick mustache brushed against his own bush. He was moaning like a madman, pressing his hips against the stall divider, desperate to get his cock even deeper into the man’s throat.

“Arggg… Fuckkkk…” 

It surprised Alex how much he enjoyed getting serviced by another guy. He was no stranger to getting head. He had received more blowjobs than he could even count! Yet this random, unnamed stranger was quickly on his way to taking the number one spot! 

His.

“No… NO! STOP IT!” 

Alex jumped away from the glory hole and rushed to get his clothes back on. The man yelped with surprise at how abruptly Alex had ended it. 

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

“NO! I ain’t gay!!”

“Are you sure? It seemed like you were really enjoying it—”

“Man, FUCK you!” 

Alex threw his shirt on, then bolted out of there. He forced his way through the crowd of drunk people, only stopping when he finally got back to his car. He got in, drove as fast as he could back to his apartment, and hopped in the shower to wash everything off. Alex stood in the spray of warm water completely dumbfounded. He had been attracted to women and only women his entire life! The way he acted was just so… out of character for him. No matter how much he thought about it, he just couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly so attracted to men. 

“Whatever. I’m never doing that gay shit again…” Alex swore to himself as he dried off with a towel. With only his underwear on, Alex stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway— where his roommate Rico was standing shirtless and still semi-drunk. 

“Heyyy there… SEXY motherfuckaa…” Rico slurred his words as he spoke. Alex felt his nose twitch. There was a smell lingering in the air. Alex closed his eyes and focused on his sense of smell as he inhaled deeply. He could vividly smell the alcohol on Rico’s breath along with his sweaty body odor after a night of dancing, but there was another scent too. It was one Alex had become all too familiar with. 

Crown Legend. 

Alex took another deep sniff of the air, letting the cologne reignite his homoerotic desires, then let out a satisfied sigh. Rico smelled good, and Alex needed to get closer to him. 

Alex closed the distance between Rico and himself and planted a firm kiss on his roommate’s lips. Rico kissed him right back. Their boorish grunts and deep groans filled the tiny apartment hallway as they made out like they were angry at each other. Alex pulled away to start licking and kissing his way down Rico’s body, beginning with the crane of his neck and only stopping once he was on his knees with Rico’s big, brown cock in his face. 

“Nuuughhhh fuck yeah…” they groaned in unison. 

Alex was experiencing sensory ecstasy. The sensual sounds of pleasuring another man with his mouth. The strong smell of Rico’s musk combined with the strong cologne. The feeling of another man’s cock filling up his mouth with every thrust. And finally, the salty, warm taste of swallowing his first-ever load as he drained Rico’s balls with his throat. Alex was red in the face and drenched with sweat by the time they finished. Hooking up with another dude was a pleasure unlike any other Alex had experienced, and it left him hungry for more.

“Hey, it’s only midnight,” Rico started. “We can still head out and fuck around some more. You down?” 

“Fuck yeah I am, lemme go get dressed and let’s go!!” Alex replied. As he got up, Rico grabbed the bottle of Crown Legend from his room and looked at Alex with a devilish grin.

“Want another hit before we head out?” Rico swirled the bottle, causing the liquid fragrance inside to slosh around. Alex hesitated at first but quickly agreed when he remembered just how good Crown Legend smelled. The cologne had completely reworked his cognition from how much he had been exposed to it.

“Yeah, sure, just another little spritz or two wouldn’t hurt…”

[sentientcave]

Swallow My Pride

Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.

Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.

1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+

It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.

He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.

The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.

"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"

"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."

"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."

"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."

Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."

Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"

"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."

"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."

You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If you’d been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.

Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.

"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.

"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."

You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.

But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.

"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"

You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"

"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.

He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.

He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.

"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.

"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If y’still ‘ave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."

You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.

"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."

"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"

You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.

You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"

Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"

"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."

“Need to say goodbye to your friends?” Gaz asked.

“Nah. It was a date. Didn’t really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addin’ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.”

Simon chuckled. “Good choice, pup. Let’s get goin’.”

I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[glasvera]

@nupppuff and @mosh-mosh, I hear you loud and clear! ;)

Blooded Moon

Moon Knight x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Description: When you're on the run, cursed to be a vampire and chased by the superheroes that want to save the city, Moon Knight finds you first. Maybe saving you isn't his best idea, but he'll be damned if he leaves you behind when you're this terrified. Being easy on the eyes also helps.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Gets a little spicy at the end but no smut (yet...?), cursing, angst, blood, blood-sucking, pretty vivid descriptions of the taste (I mean, it's a vampire reader, so what'd you expect?), hurt and comfort, starts out with you being chased

A/N: This has been cooking in my head since I got the first request for him, and honestly, I most likely will make a smutty part two. The main reason I took so long on it was because I wanted to research and be respectful of his DID, but then I ended up barely incorporating it anyway because I didn't feel it necessary and didn't wanna shoehorn it in either.

Word Count: 2.7k

You were one of the first to turn after the moon turned crimson and the sky froze in eternal night. It wasn’t something you asked for, and frankly, you were even more terrified now than you were before becoming a vampire. You weren’t looking for extra power, and even if it smells incredibly good now, the thought of drinking blood made your stomach turn.

The worst of it was how utterly alone you felt. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, returning to your job was out of the question, and you didn’t trust yourself around friends and family.

Oh, and there was the fact that being a vampire made you one of the targets of the superheroes trying to save the city.

This is how you find yourself now, scrambling over a concrete wall as your claws desperately search for purchase against the grit and gray. They're close now; you can hear the distinct rumble and whir of Iron Man's propulsion jets, and Moon Knight's steps clang against the rusted metal of a nearby fire escape. You manage to make it over the wall and into a small alley, tumbling into a pile of garbage bags that only barely soften your landing, but at least you can hide amongst the trash. You cower in the corner and desperately try to contain your breathing as staggered sobs choke in your throat. 

“I lost her!” you hear the distorted, robotic voice of Iron Man as he zips around in the sky.

“All right, you go check the other areas. I'll keep an eye on the ground here,” Moon Knight replies from what sounds like the next building over. Shit. Shit shit shit shit. But you're too weak; you've gone too long without the sustenance your body now craves, and you've expended far too much energy avoiding them until now. Your body trembles, your breaths quivering, and you cover your head with your hands as you curl up and wait for the inevitable. His steps get closer, closer, and you hear his boots crunching over piles of garbage. A soft whimper echoes in your throat.

Surprisingly, a gentle hand gloved in white rests on your shoulder. “Hey… he's gone. Are you okay?”

Wide-eyed, your vision flashes from that hand to the face of its owner, and you let out a terrified and shaky sound at the sight of Moon Knight's hooded and masked visage. His fingertips curl a bit firmer onto the tattered remnants of your sleeve before his thumb rubs soothingly against your skin.

“It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. I can tell you're scared,” he explains as he kneels next to you, his words cold comfort against the fear wracking your feeble frame. “Tony's an idiot; he thinks we're better off getting rid of most of the vampires… but you didn’t become one by choice, did you?”

You shake your head, nose sniffling before you wipe it on the back of your wrist. Even though you can't see his face, you can see the way his body slumps slightly and hear his heavy sigh.

“Thought so. Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

You shake your head again.

Moon Knight looks from side to side, and before you know it, he's scooping you out of the trash heap. You're too frozen to do anything about it, but honestly, you had been half expecting to die from this encounter anyway. Something about his hold is comforting, though, and you're finally able to relax ever so slightly. 

“I'm gonna get an earful for this later, but I'll take you somewhere safe. I promise,” he utters before carting you off into the eternal night. 

-----

You find yourself waiting in a lobby of the Baxter Building just outside the room where Iron Man and Moon Knight argue back and forth. Occasionally, you Mr. Fantastic butt in too.

“She could be dangerous! What if she brings more of them to her?”

“Our location hasn't been a problem in the past. Or did you forget that we're holed up in one of the most prominent buildings in New York City?” you hear Moon Knight's muffled voice through the wall fighting back.

“That's not what I meant! We don't know what these new vampires are capable of. If she's able to breach our defenses and let them in--”

“She didn't ASK for this!”

You jump in your seat when you hear the booming voice of your savior. It appears to have a similar effect on the rest of the room's occupants, as you can't seem to hear any more talking now. There's a murmuring of a woman's voice--likely Invisible Woman--but it's too quiet to make out the words. You hear stomping boots approaching the door and promptly sit up in your seat. Probably best that you don't let it be known that you were eavesdropping. 

The door opens with a click, and Moon Knight's white masked visage greets you. 

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly without any greeting. “I'm tired of dealing with these big time idiots.”

Unsure of what to offer in reply, you wordlessly stand and begin following him as he winds through the hallway towards an elevator. The air is heavy between you as you try to study him for any sign of what he's thinking. Though, you don’t have to wait long before he starts talking again.

“No, Khonshu. She’s different. Scared.”

“I-I’m not--”

But he seems to ignore you in favor of the voice only he can hear. “You--through me, I might add--are supposed to protect your travelers in the night. Why doesn’t she count as one of them?”

Suddenly he cries out, clutching his head in pain as he nearly doubles over. You instinctively reach a hand out to his shoulder before he flinches away from you, his movements panicked while he frantically grabs the railings along the elevator’s wall. Scared and unsure of what to do, if anything, to help him, you pull away and press your back against the opposite wall. Your breath shakes in staggered puffs through your nostrils.

“You know it to be true! You’re the one who talked about reversing it all! She needs our help!” he calls out to the air in anguish, and you can only watch on, terrified. After several more long moments, standing across from him as he slowly gains control of his breathing, it seems as though the intrusive presence he suffered has conceded for the moment. Something tells you that wouldn’t be the last time you would see him like that.

“...Moon Knight?” you murmur hesitantly, pushing off of the wall just barely. He’s still hunched over and shaking his head.

“Don’t… Don’t worry about me. Used to it,” he replies, and that’s all you get from him when you exit the elevator. He doesn’t speak again until you’ve made it to what seems to be his own private quarters for the time being.

His head turns to you, his masked face regarding you with unknown emotion. He cocks his head to the side, nodding for you to come in with him. “You’ll be safe here. Promise.”

It’s well-equipped, and it seems even more comfortable than your old apartment to boot. It makes sense, of course, but still, it’s so nice you almost feel like you’re intruding. You glance around at the standard yet luxurious furnishings, and you take note of the various bits of discarded clothing strewn about or the crumpled papers that didn’t quite make it into any of the waste bins. This eternal night must keep everyone busy at all hours.

“This is… I can’t--” you move to protest, but suddenly he draws back his hood and removes his mask.

“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts you, giving you the barest hint of a smile. He’s handsome, you realize, with scruffy brown hair and kind doe eyes to match. “I saw how scared you were… it… reminded me of myself once upon a time. A fate thrust upon you that you never asked for. I could see it in your eyes.”

Your lips part softly before you press them shut once more, and your gaze finds sudden interest in the wooden floorboards.

“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it. ‘M just explaining my reasons,” he adds before he wanders further into the apartment. “...Even if Khonshu doesn’t like it one bit.”

Khonshu. There’s that name again, and you swear you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Is… Is Khonshu the one who made your head hurt in the elevator?”

Moon Knight scoffs, shaking his head as he pours you both glasses of water. “Yeah. He’s not too pleased by defiance, and he gets even more pissed off when I point out his bullshit. Typical god stuff.”

Your eyes go wide. “A… a god!?” you exclaim in surprise. Though, perhaps it shouldn’t be all that surprising, you realize, when you consider the amount of heroes and villains that are gods themselves.

“Khonshu, Egyptian god of the moon… and vengeance. What, did you think I picked the name because it sounded cool?” he jokes before handing you a glass.

“I…” You stop and bring the glass to your lips, choosing to shut yourself up instead of embarrassing yourself any further. The water is cool, and it should be refreshing, but it stings like ice going down your throat and leaves you feeling even more thirsty than before. You wince and nearly drop the glass, but he sees your reaction and catches your hand in his to steady it. “Shit…” you mutter, feeling ashamed at the weakness that washes over you… and the warmth you feel creeping up your face at his touch.

“Right. Vampire. Probably more in the mood for blood, huh?” he asks before taking the unwanted cup from your grasp. You vehemently shake your head, curling your lip in disgust, and he snickers. “Like it or not, that’s the only thing that’ll work for you right now.”

“And you, what, just have some on hand?” you inquire half-heartedly. “I don’t want it, either way. I can’t… I’m scared I’ll lose control if I give in.”

He sighs, shaking his head. Clearly you had missed something. “We can worry about it later if you’re so against it. For now, you should at least clean up and get some rest. I’ll keep Stark off your ass in the meantime. Bathroom’s down the hall and to the right. Should be a clean robe in there, and I’ll ask Sue if she’s got some clothes you can borrow.”

When he dons his mask and hood once more, readying himself to leave, you reach forward and catch him by the crook of his elbow. His head turns to face you, and you suddenly feel vulnerable once again under that unreadable stare.

“I… thank you. I don’t know how to repay you, or why you went through this much effort to help me, but… I am grateful,” you tell him softly as your fingertips curl into the white fabric of his sleeve.

“Repay me by staying alive. Make it through this with your humanity intact. It’s all any of us can do,” he responds, clasping his hand over yours. A muffled chuckle sounds through his mask as he adds, “Guess you being pretty might have had something to do with it, too. Wouldn’t mind coming back to that face for a while.”

Oh, how incredibly unfair of him to say that behind the safety of his mask. Your eyes turn to saucers, your grip loosens, and your jaw hangs agape while heat blossoms across your cheeks. No words find themselves before he withdraws, giving you a little wave and heading out the door.

-----

It’s been a few weeks now, and you have learned quite a bit during your stay. Moon Knight--or rather, the system that is Moon Knight--had opened up to you over time, and you had come to know not just Marc Spector, but Steven and Jake as well. His system as a whole seemed to take a liking to you, and on the rare occasions that he actually had the time, you would often sit together on the couch and talk about everything and nothing. He seemed strangely content to listen to you ramble on about your past life, the friends and family you left behind, even ready to offer you a tissue or a shoulder to cry on should you need it. You had little need for sleep anymore, so you were happy to indulge in time with him every chance you had. Never did you feel trapped in this apartment; in fact, you found yourself waiting in anticipation for him to come back after every mission. He was starting to invade your thoughts even when he wasn’t with you. No one had ever treated you like this before, comforting and caring for you without making you feel lesser or like a burden.

Of course, that didn’t diminish the hunger pangs that gnawed more and more fervently at your entire being with every passing day. Marc had warned you that it might be even more dangerous to go without blood for this long, but you held fast in your convictions, and he at least respected that.

That is, until that hunger has you doubled over before curling into a fetal position. It felt like your stomach was devouring itself before draining the rest of your vitality, sapping all the remaining energy you had as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. That’s how Marc finds you when he returns, bloody and bruised.

He’s never smelled better.

“Y/N!” he calls out, hurrying over as fast as his slight limp will allow. He rips off his mask and drops to his knees to cradle you in his arms. Your breathing is shallow, and there’s an unmistakable hunger in your bloodshot eyes. “Hang on, I’ll… I--”

He frantically glances around the room even as he scours his own brain, trying to think of anything to alleviate your suffering. He’s warmth, he’s comfort… but the pounding in your head, the red that blurs at the edges of your vision, you can’t… you can’t…

“Ah, shit--fuck!”

You come to after a few moments with a rush, groaning and inhaling deeply as your fangs dig into soft flesh. Coppery… salty… sweet… the heady feeling of hot crimson hits your tongue and you forget everything else. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck as his head lolls to one side, his grip on you tightening as you drink his life’s essence. Nothing has ever tasted so good, so fulfilling, so powerful. You fall deeper and deeper into hedonistic bliss and crawl into his lap, straddling him as you take and take and--

No. No, this isn’t you. You can’t--

You break free of your blood trance, ripping away from him as he eyes you groggily. His blood is still hot on your lips, tacky as it dries before you instinctively collect it with a swipe of your tongue. Bracing your hands on his shoulders while your claws reflexively dig into them, the realization of what you’ve done fills you with horror and dread, and you stiffen with a gasp.

“Marc, I’m so sorry, are you okay!? I--”

Your apologies are silenced when he crashes his lips against yours. It’s messy, metallic, your lips sticking together every time he pulls away for breath. His hands slide down your sides, tickling your ribs before trailing down to your hips and gripping tightly. He tugs you against him. A soft moan hums in your throat, and his tongue takes the opportunity and delves into your mouth. Blood dilutes into saliva as he seems to seek it out, devouring you body and soul through his lips and tongue. To say your mind was a mess was an understatement: a violent whirlpool swirls with your emotions. You feel alive again, rejuvenated, powerful. But then there’s shock, arousal, a different hunger, a longing that leaves you panting.

Weeks worth of tentative talks and longing glances, coupled with the passionate hunger that accompanies your vampiric nature, have come to a head. When he draws back, chocolate eyes blackened with lust, his own blood smeared across his lips even as it trickles from the fresh wound on his neck, you knew one thing with certainty:

Moon Knight was an absolute freak. And you were so into it.

[utilitycaster]

i am so curious what you think about fearne as a character, especially in the full context of this campaign, and how she ranks in terms of contributing good storytelling. she was consistently my least favorite (ie., lovely and entertaining to watch, but not personally interesting or dimensional in a way that made me care, and more often than not, frustratingly avoidant of plot or depth) and i'm wondering how much you'd relate to that. i'm interested in hearing an alternate perspective! this is an invitation for as much of your thoughts as you have them, because i love reading your posts and meta. have a great day <3

Hey anon, thank you!

I find myself in an awkward place here because I do like Fearne for a couple reasons, and I think a major one is because I think Ashley is one of the only people at the table who actually explored, in-character, that Fearne was an indecisive person who was terrified of making the wrong choices (notably during both the aftermath of the first Otohan fight, and during the whole course of Shardgate). Like, Fearne's disconnect at times from the world, and moments of self-centeredness, and indecision all felt very true to Ashley's original concept both in EXU Prime and the general concept of fey morality. I also think that in a campaign with a number of fraught familial relationships that were underserved, Fearne's was, while still not given the time I wish it had been, one of the strongest. Fearne deciding, after meeting her missing parents, that she wasn't sure if she liked them felt very earned and true, and it felt like she put in the work when she later spoke to them during the party's time resting in the Feywild.

I also give Fearne something of a pass because I think she was put in perhaps the least enviable spot of all this campaign, and that's saying something. While I think pretty much every character would have been much, much better had we focused more on their backstory and exploring and resolving that, Ashley's intended darker fairytale concept was just...abandoned. Like we got Ligament Manor and Morri, and they were great! But there was no plot for her in the feywild other than "your parents are caught up in this moon thing, and your birth father is also caught up in this moon thing". The first part came up very early and got quickly overshadowed by the rest of the whole Bassuras pile-up, and the second part came out right before the Ruidus scouting mission and was perhaps one of the worst victims of the late campaign breakneck pacing. Honestly, a lot of the feywild stuff felt oddly insubstantial - we know that breaking the fey key apparently did something, and that breaking up the meeting in Pravenier prevented Fey allies from attacking Vox Machina at the key in the end (though it's hard to say exactly what that would have entailed), but like...was the Seelie Court working in opposition? Were there any extraplanar allies in the Accord? Was the Feywild at risk here, as Ollie believed it to be? Because it never entered into Bells Hells' considerations! All the Feywild plot threads just went nowhere. Even their greatest fey ally, Ira, was far more motivated by his own dislike of Ludinus than any loyalty to Fearne; the party didn't really need to cultivate him as an ally, he just showed up.

And then, of course, there's the fact that Fearne was a Ruidusborn, but she wasn't THE Ruidusborn, she wasn't exaltant, that was Imogen - and the cool thing she did get, the spark of Rau'shan, was a great moment but was, like Ashton's titan abilities, mechanical and some cool scenes only but not relevant to Predathos in a meaningful way any more so than like, Chetney's ability to turn into a wolf was. I don't even think Ashley was being particularly indecisive, or rather, the Zathuda and Yu "should we kill them or no" scenes were excruciating in the lack of decision, but I feel that the problem was she was given absolutely nothing to fucking work with and that's not her fault. I think it's a testament to Ashley's ability as an actor that I do feel she had depth and even a little character development because she was essentially pushed into a thankless second fiddle role. When I think of the people who actually made an effort to do small solo scenes or seek other people out, Fearne praying to the Wildmother or Raven Queen and pickpocketing scenes stand out as bright spots.

So I think it's valid to be frustrated or not vibe, but I think it's entirely a DM-ing problem. This campaign was really not made to accommodate Fearne's concept.

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls his girl

part 3. the finale

read part 2. here

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.3 summary: you've always been a shit liar. you can't keep pretending you're not...

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, DADDY KINK, slight age gap, angst with a happy ending!

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: it's here. it's finally over (not really but yes). im so so sorry for the wait, but hopefully it was worth it. pls pls PLS tell me what u think

Everything felt normal. You woke up expecting things to have changed, to feel different, but last night’s events had yet to settle in your mind, yet to be processed.

The date with Ray had gone pretty well, albeit there being more instances of you zoning out and him having to snap you out of it, wondering if you weren’t feeling well. It had been easy enough to assure him that you were fine, just tired, and him, being the great boyfriend he was, had just kept doting on you and even offered to cut the date short to just have a quiet night in.

You didn’t want that. Quiet night in would have meant confronting what had happened, and you absolutely did not want that.

Instead, you’d let yourself be pulled into a tipsy haze, losing yourself in the presence of good company, good food, and good alcohol.

Which meant, by the time you’d been dropped back home, you’d had just enough energy to wash up and fall quickly into deep, dreamless sleep.

So when you wake up, limbs sore and your head pounding from the slight hangover, Chris is far from your mind. You don’t think about what he said last night, you don’t think about how he’d felt when he’d been so close to you again, how he’d smelt, how warm his head had felt against your shoulder.

You don’t think about any of it.

You eventually make your way downstairs, greeting your parents on the way, before pausing in front of the kitchen.

Thinking about you…

Couldn’t — without thinking about you…

You stare into the kitchen, last nights events solidifying in your mind slowly, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself getting angry, properly angry and upset, because how dare Chris come back and just do whatever he likes with no regard for you or your current relationship?

“Hey,” your brother’s voice sounds from behind you, making you jump. “If you’re not actually getting anything from the kitchen, move. You’re in the way.”

Dazed, you watch as he grabs the Pepsi can that was still on the counter from when Chris left it out, anger and something close to sadness swirling inside you. You turn to walk away, when your brother calls out for you.

“What were you talking about last night? You and Chris?”

Fuck.

“What’re you talking about?” you ask, back still turned towards your brother. You know your face would give you away right now.

“I’m not stupid, ya know? Y’all were in here long. I didn’t think you and him would have much to talk about, so I was wondering what was holding you and him up.”

Your brother walks past you and pauses a few steps ahead of you.

“Like I said, you’ve always been a shit liar, kid,” he says eventually, looking back at you with a slight frown. “Didn’t say anything because I figured whatever it was y’all had going on would eventually stop, and it did. It’s best if it stayed that way, yeah?”

-------------------------------------

Turns out, your brother had known for a while. And in the fear of pushing you further into Chris’ arms by opposing too hard against the idea of you and him being ‘together’, he’d just stayed out of it, in hopes that you would come to your senses and end it.

If only he knew…

Confronted by the results of all your actions leading up to now, you retreat back to your room, angry and most of all, ashamed. And as if he can sense your inner turmoil through the air waves, Chris himself calls you.

The sense of shame deepens when you pick up right away.

“What do you want Chris?” you ask, and the anger must have been evident in your voice, because Chris stays silent for a while before he responds.

“I missed you.”

“No, no- you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave me here and fuck off to L.A., and ruin everything I have got going on now by coming back and saying that shit,” you whisper-yell into your phone. “We were doing fine! I could almost pretend like we were just friends, and then you go and pull that shit last night- I have a fucking boyfriend, Chris!”

“All I said was I missed you baby,” he says, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice.

“No, stop that. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t think of me the whole time I was away?”

You clench your fist, biting hard into your bottom lip to keep yourself from...from doing what exactly? Agreeing with him? Screaming?

"Why didn't you mention him? In any of the texts you'd sent. You never once said, 'Hey Chris, I've got a fucking boyfriend now, by the way!'"

He's yelling, and you can only hope he's not with other people, because the last thing either of you needs is for any part of this conversation being picked up and posted online to be speculated over.

What he says further angers you though, because a part of you knows what this looks like, knows that you probably should have mentioned it at some point, but-

"Oh, that's rich coming from you! Did you tell me about all the girls you were seeing, or oh, excuse me, fucking, back in L.A.?" and now you're yelling right back, because fuck it, fuck all of it.

"None of them were serious, you know that."

"Right, of course."

"You're serious with this guy though, so it's-"

"Respectfully, Chris, I don't need to tell you anything. Just because we've been texting since you left does not make us BFFs or anything, you're still just my brother's friend who I slept with a couple of times, and that's it," you bite out, regretting your words immediately after, because they were unnecessarily cruel, and you didn't even mean any of it.

You think Chris is going to get upset, maybe even hang up on you but he laughs instead, and it's one of those full belly laughs that shocks your system.

"Oh, I needed that," Chris says between wheezes and gasps, and you can almost picture him rubbing at his eyes with a wide grin. "You're so funny."

What the fuck?

"I wasn't trying to be?"

"I know, I know," Chris says with a small chuckle, and fuck if his voice and his laughter doesn't warm your heart, makes you want to keep doing whatever it is you're doing to keep getting that sound out of him.

You need to get a fucking grip.

"You forget we were both involved in that little arrangement, and I like to think I’ve gotten to know you more than most people. You can't lie to save your life," he says eventually.

"Why do people keep saying I can't lie, fuck-"

"Who else has been telling you?

“My stupid brother…” you mumble. “He knows, by the way. Can’t believe he didn’t raise hell over it.”

“Oh he did,” Chris says flippantly. “Anyway, can we meet soon? I miss you. Talking through the phone isn’t the same, you know.”

“Um, excuse me, back up, what do you mean, he did?”

----------------------------------

“You punched Chris? Two weeks before he left for L.A., you fucking punched him in the face?”

“Okay, calm down-” your brother tries to say, palms up and out to try and shield himself from your hands smacking his shoulders.

“You fucking punched him,and that’s why he didn’t show up,” you yell, and you know you’re being irrationally angry over something that happened a while ago, but no one should be surprised at how you revert back to being childish with your stupid older brother.

After you’d abruptly hung up on Chris, you’d stomped over to your brother, who was sprawled over the couch watching something on his phone, and without a second thought, you’d grabbed it and chucked it onto the couch before interrogating him on exactly what Chris had meant.

“Look- fuck, would you stop that-” your brother huffs, grabbing onto your hands to stop you from hitting him further, or scratching his stupid face off. “Jeez, okay, can you let me fucking speak?”

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, no, not until you calm down and promise you’re not going to take my eyes out with your damn talons,” he says, motioning to your long acrylics. The acrylics that Ray had paid for. And that reminder makes all the fight leave your body, because what the fuck were you doing, getting upset at how your brother had possibly impeded Chris from seeing you, how maybe, maybe things might have been different if it weren’t for those two weeks when you thought Chris had abandoned you.

“Oh shit-” your brother hisses, as you go limp in his hold, and he follows you down, making sure you don’t just flop onto the ground.

“What’s wrong with me?” you ask to no one in particular, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to spill over. “None of this matters anymore, I should be focusing on what I have with Ray, but I just…”

Your brother stays silent, one hand idly rubbing your shoulder as he looks off into the distance.

“I saw Chris in your room that one night,” he says, after a long moment of silence. “It was clear what had happened before, and there he was just sleeping in your bed with you, shirtless, and I was mad. I remember just pulling him off of you and shoving him out the house, while trying to make sure you didn’t wake up.”

“I didn’t go over to him after with the intention of punching him,” your brother says as he squeezes his eyes shut, the hand on your shoulder dropping to hold your hand. “He was just, so fucking annoying about it. Acting like he didn’t give a shit about any of it, about you, and oh, I knew it was a fucking act. Kid thinks he’s got everyone fooled, but not me, not his brothers. I was just mad that after all that, he still didn’t seem to have the balls to just admit to himself that he…”

You look up at your brother, eyes wide as the knot in your throat grows larger, tears now freely streaming down your face.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…”

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you any of this, you’re doing so well now, and you deserve better than a guy who can barely comprehend his own emotions-”

“You don’t get to decide for me,” you whisper, squeezing his hand in yours.

“I- fuck, okay, I know that, but…I didn’t want you to get hurt. And he was hurting you.”

The two of you stay sitting on the floor, hand in hand, in complete silence, until your parents eventually come back from work and joke about how the two of your were probably back to your old shenanigans, and it makes you smile as you lean your head against your brother’s shoulder, because he’s always been there for you, and he’s always just looking out for you, even if he sometimes goes about it the wrong way.

Later that night, after dinner, you walk into your brother’s old room, and find him laying in his old bed. A song you don’t recognize plays through the speakers on his nightstand.

You stand in the doorway for a while, trying to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

“You going to come in, or just stand there like a creep?” your brother asks, hand patting the empty space next to him.

You chuckle, making your way to him, before sitting on his bed cross-legged, not before poking him with your toes.

“What song is that?” you ask, something about it making you feel oddly emotional.

“Weird Sisters. That’s what it’s called, but it’s funny ‘cause they don’t mention you in it, like, at all.”

“Ha ha,” you reply with an eye roll, poking your brother in the ribs as he laughs.

“I have something to say,” you mumble, eyes fixed on a loose thread in your brother’s sheets. Your fingers pick at it, almost pulling it taut.

“Uh-oh, okay…let’s hear it.”

“Look, I- this is all so weird for me. It has been weird, since the beginning. I got into something that was confusing as fuck, and I didn’t have anyone I could talk about it with, not without judgement or, I don’t know, concern? I knew what I was getting into though, despite the confusion. You warned me against it, but I made a decision to be with Chris. Did it hurt, being with him? Yes, but it wasn’t him that hurt me, you know?”

Your brother sighs just then, and you can tell he’s about to disagree with you, say something to interrupt, but you push through.

“No, listen. He didn’t hurt me, not intentionally. I always knew what he was like, and a part of me started hoping for something different, maybe because, towards the end, it did feel different. He made me feel like I was different, special. And, from everything you said earlier, it seemed like he was going to tell me something important, before he ghosted me. Before he left. But none of it matters now, I guess. I’m with Ray, and it sucks ‘cause everything was fine but now I can’t help but think back to my time with Chris. Feels like I’m being pulled in two directions.”

“I’m sorry…,” your brother says, one of his arms going up to cover his face. “I was just trying to-”

You wait for him to finish, but he just stays silent, arm still covering his face.

“Are you…are you crying?”

“What? No!”

“Oh. My. God. You totally are!”

“Shut up,” your brother mumbles through sniffles, furiously rubbing at his face.

You laugh, your hands reaching out to pat him on the head, all the while cooing at how much of a big baby he was being.

“Why are you crying over my weird love life, oh my god.”

“I’m not crying,” your brother protests. “It’s just. You sounded really sad just then, okay?”

“Yeah, well…”

“So, what’re you going to do now? About all this?”

“I don’t know yet, but for now, how about we go out for a drive? Like we used to?”

----------------------------------

Ray notices the weird shift in you, of course he does.

He doesn’t comment on it, of course he doesn’t.

Chris calls you at odd hours of the day, of course he does.

He doesn’t bring up Ray, or the conversation from before, of course he doesn’t.

You feel like a coiled spring, wound up tight, tension seeping into your bones with each passing moment, feeling just about ready to snap.

Two men, both infuriating in their own way, one who was the picture of stability but seemed to be getting more closed off as the days went by, the other, a blast from the past, who might have more to offer now than he did before.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, and this time you wanted to make sure it was a decision made by you, and not for you.

> we need to talk

> Oh no. What’s wrong?

> nothing’s wrong, but it won’t be a fun conversation.

> wanted to give you a heads up so u dont feel like ur bein ambused

> Okay. When and where?

You’d send that text to Ray a few nights ago, and since then, the two of you had decided to have this conversation at the end of the week, after class for you, and work for him.

“So…,” Ray starts, as he pours wine into both your glasses, before taking a seat across you.

You’re at his place, seated at his dining table with your chin rested on your palm as you admire the flashing lights outside his window.

You look up at Ray, hands coming up to rest on the table, palms up, and he takes the invitation to slide his hands over yours.

“There’s something I have to tell you. I want you to listen till the very end, please.”

He nods at you to go on, and so you tell him. All about your past with Chris, leaving out details he didn’t need to know about, but making sure to get your point across.

You had fallen in love with a man you couldn’t have, and it had broken you for a bit. You fell in love with a new man, and it healed you, but old feelings linger, and you’re scared, upset, and confused.

You’re crying by the end of it, and Ray also looks visibly upset.

“Are we breaking up?” he asks, his hands going slack in your hold, and it terrifies you, the possibility of not having Ray anymore, so you squeeze his hands in yours.

“I don’t know, Ray. I don’t know what to do.”

“We can make this work, if you get over him. And that will take time, I know, but I’m willing to wait.”

That makes your head snap up, your eyes finding his in the dim light.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, and you hesitate.

Is it what you want?

“You don’t have to rush with this, take your time to think about it,” Ray says softly, his thumbs moving to caress your knuckles. “But, I will say this, I can’t be with someone who has feelings for someone else. So, maybe we should spend some time apart, while you decide.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how you found yourself back home, slightly tipsy from the wine that you’d chugged on, even after Ray had tried to hold you back from going for more, but you needed the drinks to dull your senses, even if it was for just a little bit.

You and Ray still talked after the conversation, but things were different now. He’d been respectful, mature and all the good things that he was, but maybe you were hoping he would’ve put up some kind of fight to be with you. Been more open with how he felt about this situation, how he felt about you liking someone else.

You wished he’d told you that he’d loved you. He hadn’t.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, and it was getting clearer now.

----------------------------------

You’d been ignoring Chris for some time, while you were trying to make your decision. He hadn’t stopped calling, hadn’t stopped showing up outside your window, but you’d exercised more self control than you had in years and turned him away each time.

“I need to think, Chris. I can’t do that with you around,” you’d said, after picking up his millionth late night call.

“How much longer? How much longer do I have to wait before you let me in?” he’d asked, sounding exasperated. You can almost picture him pacing around with his hand running through his hair, frustration making him clench his jaw.

“Hold on, I need to savor this moment. Chris Sturniolo being desperate for a change.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine, and an old familiar feeling of excitement settles somewhere deep inside you.

“I thought it was obvious by now, sweetheart. Always been kind of desperate for you,” he’d said, and the words had left you breathless.

You’d made some quick excuse to hang up the phone, and Chris’ laugh was the last thing you heard before your fingers dipped into your underwear and lazily stroked through your wet folds, the words replaying in your mind, over and over.

You’d made yourself cum over and over that night, all to the thought of Chris, desperate for you, as images from years ago flashed behind your closed eyelids.

----------------------------------

The shame had set in eventually, and you’d decided that maybe the best thing to do for now would be to focus on neither man, and yourself.

You told them both as much.

Ray had taken it in stride, of course he had.

“It’s good that you’re focusing on yourself,” he’d said. “I’ll be here if you need me, but yes, I just want the best for you, and if that means focusing on yourself, then do that.”

Chris had been annoying about it, of course he had.

“Hold on- hold on, you have lingering feelings for me?” he’d said, baffled. “And you talked to your boyfriend, but not me, and now he’s not your boyfriend, but you want to focus on yourself? I’m, confused, hold on-”

See, you hadn’t told Chris about your whole internal dilemma, because honestly, you didn’t think he was ready to hear about any of it, just as you weren’t ready to deal with it.

But it had to happen at some point.

“Chris-” you sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as he continues to ramble.

“Why didn’t you tell me, the fuck- I think I should’ve known, right? You should’ve told me-”

“He’s still my boyfriend, by the way. Sort of?”

“What? Why? Break up with him, the fuck-” Chris yells, sounding so incredulous it makes you laugh.

“What do you mean? Why would I do that? It’s not like I can get with you,” you say, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “Sure, I fell for you back then, sure I have lingering feelings, but it doesn’t matter now, does it? Not like you’re into me for more than just my body…”

And it was a bait, because if your brother was to be trusted, at some point, things had changed for Chris, and it had become more for him, but you needed to hear it from him, before you could move on. Move forward.

Chris stays silent, and you’re worried you’d pushed too soon, or maybe you were wrong, maybe he didn’t feel the way you thought he did.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and your hands are clammy now, anxiousness rolling off of you in waves.

What if you were making a mistake, throwing away something good for the mere possibility of something better? What if you were going to be abandoned? What if you’d given yourself more importance than you ever had?

“Hey, hey- breathe,” Chris says slowly, and you hear him take a slow, deep breath in, loud over the phone. “Do it with me, come on.”

You hadn’t realized it, but Chris had heard your ragged breathing over the phone, sensed your incoming panic attack, and with years of witnessing Matt’s anxiety, he’d caught on pretty quick.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he asks after you’ve calmed down. You’d scrubbed your face raw to wipe away the tears that had streamed down your face, and your eyes were puffy, so you felt far from pretty, and you tell Chris as much.

“You’re always pretty,” he whispers. “I still remember how you looked at that game you came to. You were wearing a sweater and a skirt, with some tights underneath? Your hair looked really nice…And then, later that night, remember when you rushed downstairs to grab a snack, but your brother had the whole team over? You had your headphones in, and you hadn’t heard us, but there you were, in a face mask, and a onesie. You got embarrassed ‘cause you looked silly as hell, but still pretty. Always pretty.”

“Chris…”

“This is hard for me, sweetheart, I-”

“No. No, we’re not doing this over the phone.”

“Does that mean I finally get to see you in person then?”

“Yes…”

“Thank fuck. When and where, baby? Right now? ‘Cause I can be there like, right now.”

“Oh no,” you giggle, flopping onto your bed. “I’m going to make you wait a little.”

“Yeah, no, fuck that. Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“It’s literally one a.m. right now.”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.”

“Chris, if you’re trying to see me for-”

“Nope, no, we’re just talking, I know that.”

“Okay, good. Be here in twenty?”

“Yeah, see you then, pretty girl.”

----------------------------------

You’d meant what you said before, about focusing on yourself, for at least a little bit, before making any decisions.

Chris gets whiny, asks you why, tells you to just tell him what you’re thinking straight up, but what you tell him shuts him up for good.

“I need to do this, Chris. I need to make sure the decision I make doesn’t hurt me in the end. I’m tired.”

“So what, you let me see you again, only to tell me we can’t see each other anymore while you’re focusing on yourself?”

“Yes, Chris,” you chuckle, shaking your head at the way he pouts.

The two of you munch of the fries you’d ordered from the diner you were now sat in, Chris’s feet tapping under the table, occasionally coming up to tap against your ankle.

“I’m going to break up with Ray,” you says around a mouthful of fries, just as Chris had taken a sip of his Pepsi, and you watch as it goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs, pounding at his own chest to get it all out.

“Fuck- sorry, should’ve waited until you had your drink,” you say with a grin, handing over a bunch of napkins to him as he huffs and puffs about his shirt now being soaked in Pepsi.

“You don’t look sorry at all,” he squints at you, lips pulled tight. “You serious? You’re going to break up with him?”

“Yeah…he’s great, like really great, especially in bed-”

“Okay, I get it-”

“-but, he was a little distant. Even before you came back.”

“I see…”

“Yeah. Anyway- I don’t see why you care so much, unless you have something to say?”

“Uh…”

“I’m giving myself a month. Before I make that decision. I broke up with Ray, sure, but only because it didn’t feel right to keep him waiting, either.”

“Right…but why does it feel like you’re waiting on me though? Or fishing for something…”

“I think, and I could be so wrong, but I think you have something to tell me, and you’re scared.”

Chris looks down at the table, throat bobbing as he swallows around nothing.

“You know what I want, what I’ve always wanted, right?”

He nods, still looking down, now at his own fingers fiddling with the paper cover of the straws that had come with your drinks, and you pull it away, your hand covering his, pulling his attention back to you.

“I’m giving myself a month. I’m also giving you a month. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, chewing on his lip as he looks up at you.

The two of you finish your meal in silence, and you don’t call attention to the way Chris had turned his hand over to grip yours, his hold on you tight and unrelenting throughout the entire meal. He lets go once, when you get up to wash your hands, and then he’s back to gripping it when you walk out to Matt’s car, which he can drive now (that had been a pleasant surprise).

Your hand stays in his, even with your head leaned against the window as you watch the flashing lights of the street lamps outside, as he drives and drives, and it’s silent in the car except for Chris’ soft breathing.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, but for now, you just let yourself enjoy this quiet moment.

----------------------------------

Time flies by, of course it does.

You keep yourself busy, work on yourself like you said you would. You stay focused on your classes, you get a really good internship that could eventually lead to a really good job, you go out with friends.

You miss Ray, of course you do.

Breaking up with him wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do. Still, it hurt. He’d been good to you, just not…enough.

You miss Chris too, of course you do.

He still texts you, from time to time, but he’s respected your wishes and kept his distance. Until he makes his own decision.

You find yourself reading through all the texts you’d exchanged with him over the years. It’s funny how you hadn’t seen it sooner. How much time he’d been spending talking to you and being with you, and the whole time, you’d been worried he was spending it elsewhere.

You’d given Chris a month.

He’d come back to you in twenty seven days.

> Hey

> hi

> Busy? Can we talk?

> not busy :) what’s up

> There’s something I want to tell you.

> dinner? 8pm?

> Yeah, I’ll pick u up

> kay, see u then

----------------------------------

Dress fancy.

That’s the last text he’d sent a few hours before he picked you up. And you had.

A satin dress with a sweater on top, and mesh embroidered tights underneath, sort of reminiscent of the outfit he’d described back to you on the phone all those nights ago. It seemed fitting, for some reason.

Your parents and your brother are in the living room when you make your way downstairs.

“Okay, that’s a date outfit, who’s taking you out?” your father asks, looking at you from over the rim of his glasses.

“Ugh-”

“He’s going to come in and say hello, right?” your mother asks, smiling as she takes a sip from her cup of tea.

“I’m a grown adult, please stop acting like I’m going on a middle school date.”

You look over to your brother, hoping he’ll be of some help, but he just grins and pokes his tongue out, like the child that he is, so you throw your hands up in the air in defeat and pull your phone out to text Chris.

> my folks think im going out on a date and insist that whoever’s taking me out come say hi before

> Well, yeah, you are going out on a date.

> I’ll come say hi

> ????

> Pulling up in 5

> hello???

You barely have any time to compose yourself before the doorbell rings, and your mother is rushing to answer the door.

You hear the exact moment she processes things, because you hear a screech.

You rush over to the front door, only to find your mother pinching Chris’ ear.

“You- how long has this been going on, huh?”

“Uh…help?” Chris asks with a dopey smile, looking over at you.

“Mom, oh my god, let him go-”

“So, Chris is the one taking you out on a date, huh?” your father asks from behind you, arms crossed over his chest, and behind him, your brother laughs.

“I hate you guys. Mom, let him go, we’re leaving, now,” you say, pulling Chris by the arm.

The two of you make your way out the door, with your parents chuckling and making sure to let you know that you’re going to have to answer a lot of questions later. Your brother follows you out, standing in the doorway.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris answers, looking back at your brother.

“If you say or do anything stupid, I swear to God-”

“You’re going to punch me, again. I know,” he says, grinning down at you. You roll your eyes, pulling him towards his car.

Your brother nods, before stepping back into the house and closing the door behind him.

You and Chris are close to the car now, but before you can step inside, he pulls himself away from you and regards you with a tilted head and a soft smile.

“You look so pretty, angel.”

Your head dips down as you try to hide the smile that breaks, but Chris has a finger holding your chin, titling your head up to make your eyes meet his.

“I’m sorry it took me this long, to do this.”

You shake your head with a smile, your hands coming up to smooth over the suit jacket he was wearing.

“Take me to dinner, and tell me everything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

----------------------------------

You’d given him a month, and he’d delivered in twenty seven days.

Dinner had been at a restaurant, dim-lit and in a private booth. Chris had said everything he’d been scared to say and more, and you’d both cried through some of it, laughed through the rest.

“I love you,” he’d said. “I think it happened somewhere in the middle, and you’re right, I was scared.”

“I fell for you, and I didn’t know what to do,” he’d said. “I’m so used to girls wanting me for sex, and at some point, I told myself that’s all I’d be good for anyway. I didn’t think it was for me, to want more.”

You’d sobbed at that, wishing you’d somehow seen through his act, comforted him.

Turns out, you’d both been hurting, and neither of you knew better.

You know better now, so does he.

Dinner ends, and you’re back in his car, now parked in an empty lot behind a dark store, and you and Chris exchange soft kisses in the back seat, years worth of feelings pouring out of you.

It starts out almost hesitant, but soon grows heavy, Chris’ tongue caressing yours as he pushes you to lay back on the seat.

“I’m a little impatient, sweetheart, kind of want to just have my way with you right here, right now, but only if you want it too. Please tell me you want this too.”

You look up at Chris, his face half in shadow, half lit by the solitary street lamp in the parking lot, and you’re heart feels so full. You reach up to brush your knuckles against his cheek, before pressing your palm against the warmth, and he sighs, eyes fluttering close as he leans into the touch.

“Say it again.”

His eyes shine back at yours in the dark, icy blue steadily growing darker.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I lo-”

You pull him down by his tie, kissing him, licking into his mouth, before pushing him back.

“I love you too,” you smile.

----------------------------------

It takes some time, to relearn each other’s bodies.

Chris always knows what you want though, so he fucks you exactly like he used to. Like he owns you, like he wants to hurt you. And you love him for it.

What’s different this time though, is the absence of doubt. You know he loves you, and you know you love him. You’re not just one of the girls in his roster, and he makes sure to let everyone know.

Like when you’d visited him in L.A., a few months into seeing each other, officially, and he’d taken you to some party with a bunch of pretty influencers, where he’d proceeded to show you off, before backing you into an empty room and fucked you through the mattress, his hand clamped over your mouth as he whispered obscenities into your year.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

“Can’t keep my hands off of you.”

Or that time he’d come back to Boston and surprised you at work, before driving you back to your apartment, yes, your own apartment (fucking finally), and proceeded to eat you out on the kitchen floor, before fucking you on the couch, hands wrapped around your throat, not restricting your breathing, but definitely making you feel the pressure, the only sounds in the room being your gasps and his low groans, and the wet squelch of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

“Such a good girl for me, you like that don’t you?”

“You’re mine, yeah? Tell me. Only mine. And I’m yours. Yeah, baby, I’m all yours.”

Or now, with your hands tied up against the headboard with one of his ties, another tie wrapped around your head covering your eyes, and a vibrator pressed against your clit, as you sob, beg for Chris to fuck you. And he does, of course he does, but not before he tortures you just a little bit longer, until you’re a drooling mess and barely coherent. Until you can barely mumble as he throws pushes his cock into you slowly, all while the vibrator buzzes away against your swollen clit. He cums for the first time that night with your legs scrambling against the bed, and the vibrator stimulating him through you, and you know it’s far from over.

The ties come off, and you blink against the bright lights, eyes focusing on Chris, his wild eyes intent on your shaking form.

“So fucking good for me, always.”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you,” he says with a gentle smile, hands smoothing over your skin as you come down from your high.

That had been a new development. The daddy kink. Something that had taken you both by surprise. The first time you’d called him that in bed had been a pure accident, and you’d been horrified for a few seconds, until you saw how Chris had somehow gotten harder and he’d been uncontrollable after, almost scarily so. That first night you’d said it, he’d kept you up for so long and fucked you so hard, you’d had to take the day off.

“No one else gets to see you like this, not anymore.”

“Wish I could keep you here like this forever, just so I can fuck you and cum inside you over and over and over-”

“I love you so much, pretty girl. Never going to leave you again, ever.”

Suffice to say, relearning each other was going great.

Sex with Chris was still a rush, like being swept up in a storm, each moment together like a collision between two giant forces. Rough, loud, painful, and so, so satisfying. But now, it was also filled with an indescribable feeling of joy and love that comes with being emotionally connected, finally.

Chris was learning to accept the easy affection you were giving him, and you were being patient, meeting him halfway as he learned to be in an actual relationship.

Now, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

Now, you don’t have to sneak around, wait for him to come to you, because he doesn’t keep you waiting at all.

Now, you wake up beside him, giggling when he presses kisses into your shoulder and tickles your sides, before flipping you over and licking his way down to where you’re still sore, lapping up at the mess he’d left, biting at the soft flesh of your thighs.

Now, you call him after work, meet him outside, and kiss him all over his face while he laughs, and later once your home, you sink to your knees and let him fuck your throat just the way you like it.

Now, he buys you flowers and takes you out on dates, and you both laugh during bad movies, and annoy everyone around you with how in love the two of you are.

Now, he works you open on his fingers while telling you how much he loves you, and makes you tell him he’s yours, reminds you who you belong to, who he belongs to.

Now, he’s openly sincere about his feelings, and he’s still scared, of course he is, but you’re there to remind him how much this is worth, because you love him, and he loves you.

Now, you can hold his hand, and run your fingers through his hair, and he can hold you close, and kiss you before, and during and after, whenever he feels like it, because you’re his girl.

read part 1. here

read part 2. here

author’s note: god this took way too long to complete...thoughts?? also, i just want to say, thank you. thank you for all the love and just, aaa, i cannot comprehend the fact that so many of you STILL waited for this one. ily guys. keep an eye out for the bonus chapter, which will come out HOPEFULLY in a few months lmaoo haha

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

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[annoyinglilbro]

Angel who is so dainty and oh so genderless, "I don't do labels" until the demon forcemascs the shit out of him is that anything

They also beat the shit out of each other with flaming swords and twisted daggers because why not

The demon has been watching them for awhile. Everytime he thinks he knows, he doesn’t. The curves are soft, hair short, eyes round and doey. His lips are pouted and chest is flat. Their voice doesn’t give anything away either, and really all the demon wants to know is what’s under that stupid Lacey gown. Ofcourse he isn’t ever expecting the angel to let him see, they’re constantly at each others throats.

“Hey pretty bird, gonna sing a song for me today?” He asks when the angel walks by, only scoffing and rolling their eyes.

“Why would I ever sing for you? You’re not worthy. You’re damned already, there’s nothing I could sing for you.”

Demon Hums but continues his stride by their side. This is routine. He’ll hang around, push some buttons, just enough to watch that face turn red and words turn truely spiteful.

“Give me a chance and I’ll make you sing real pretty for me, doll. Just gotta get you out of those clothes. What’s an angel look like under those wraps anyway?”

The angel pulls their clothes tighter to their body, cheeks heating up a light pink and lips turning to a frown.

“Come on, I’m sure you’re a real pretty girl under there.” The angel glares, making the demon put his hands up in surrender. “Or boy. You’re a real pretty boy, aren’t you?” That gets a different reaction. A spark of something in the angel eyes.

“I’m not a girl or a boy. Angels are genderless, regardless of what’s under our uniforms. We don’t do labels, there’s no need. Sex is a sin.”

“Oh I think you’re wrong there, sweet boy. I think you know you’re a boy but you’re just too scared to say it. Come on, no one else is here. You can say it. You a pretty boy?”

It happens fast. The fist that makes contact with his face, drawing blood from his nose and lip. He’s stood in shock, watching the way the angels lip trembles and their chest heaves.

“Didn’t think you had it in you, pretty boy.” The demon quips, wiping away the stray stream of red with his thumb.

“Stop it. You’ll get me introuble. We’re not supposed to…want those things. Okay? Please for once will you just drop it?”

Ofcourse he doesn’t. He grabs the dainty boy by his arm and drags him into an empty alley. Slams him into a wall and points a silver dagger just under his chin. The Angel looks at him, wide eyed and shivering under his touch.

“Everything’s a sin with you angels, isn’t it? Always denying yourself the simple pleasures. You lot wouldn’t be so stuck up if you just learned to enjoy the little things. Like having your cock played with.” His hand is slipping through the robes, feeling between the angels legs and into his cunt. His fingers dance over his little dick, perked and hidden under the hood. The way the Angel gasps and tries to throw his head back further against the brick wall makes the demon throb in his pants. “There it is. Your pretty little cock, probably so neglected. Tell me do you ever touch it? Ever give it any attention? What do you when you feel that ache between your legs?” His fingers continue working at him the entire time.

“I…I don’t do anything I..I’m not su-supposed to hmmm…”

“Don’t lie to me, Angel. What do you do, really, when your little cock gets hard and your cunt gets all wet.”

The angel bites his lip, looking to the side.

“I…sometimes I’ll rub against m-my pillow…I don’t mean to though! My clit just gets so- ah!!” He’s cut off by a pinch to the sensitive bundle.

“That’s not your clit, baby boy. That’s your cock. You’ll address it as such, cause you’re a pretty boy right? And that’s what boys have, cocks.”

“We’re..we’re not supposed to lean towards either gender- fuck! Please please please!!” Another harsh pinch, fingers that tug. It brings tears to the angels eyes.

“Stop denying yourself. Let it feel good. Let yourself be who you really are. What are you?”

The angel whines, body shaking against the wall and face bright red. His hips have started moving against the hand between his legs.

“I’m..I’m a boy! I’m a boy, I know it. I know I’m a boy, okay? I know I am. But I can’t, you wouldn’t understand! I can’t just be that, okay! I could lose my wings, my halo, I could fall.”

The demon leans in, pointed teeth now against the angels neck.

“I think you’ll find there’s worse things in life than falling. But I get it. That’s fine. How about when it’s just us, you’re a boy? Does that sound good, baby?” He sinks his teeth into the pale skin between his neck and shoulder, marking his claim on the boy.

The angel lets out a choked sob, legs shaking when he cums against the demons fingers. He’s slumped into his body, energy drained and fight gone.

“What could you possibly understand about what I’m going through?” He mumbles, head against the demons shoulder now. The blade is still pressed against his skin but he doesn’t care much for it now. It’s an after thought, an empty threat.

The demon doesn’t say anything, just grabs the angels hand and slides it down his pants. The angel gasps when he feels the familiar slit and button like dick. He leans back to meet his eyes, and the demon just smiles.

“Not all sinners are born this way. Some of us were song birds once too.”

[cosmerelists]

Randomly Assembled Cosmere Roommates: How Will They Fare?

[Note: This post contains major WAT spoilers!]

@truthwatcherblog created a poll (which should still be going on, if I've gotten my dates right?) wherein you spin a picker wheel to randomly assign yourself three Stormlight roommates. With OP's permission, I'm going to use their picker wheel not to give myself roommates, but to create trios of Stormlight characters who now must room together. Let's see how it goes!

[I faithfully adhered to the picker wheel except for skipping repeats. Lin Davar came up THREE times!]

1. Lopen, the Nightwatcher, Cord

The Nightwatcher would stay holed up in her room all day, leaving mostly just Lopen & Cord, who did travel together during Dawnshard...a story in which we learned that Lopen has a huge crush on Cord. Hopefully they'd sort that out pretty quick so that it doesn't turn into a Wayne/Ranette situation. 

Cord: And this is my girlfriend, Rysn. Lopen: Well okay, but I'm not gonna stop trying to impress you with my jokes and manly ways! Cord: ...To try to win me over? Lopen: No, I mostly just like making people laugh and and I like being complimented. For my manly ways. Cord: I can live with that. Nightwatcher: [Through the closed door and the ten million blankets that she shrouds herself in] Can someone please bring me ice cream? 

2. Moash, Lin Davar [Shallan's dad], Syl

[sing-song voice] Someone is getting muuuurdered!

Lin: Are you stupid as well as blind, dark-eyes? I SAID to pour me wine! Moash: [already drawing his sword] Syl: In this house, we stan some extrajudicial killings. 

3. Lezian, Masha-daughter-Shaliv [Szeth's wife], Maya

This household is never at peace.

Lezian: I CAN'T do the dishes, I'm busy STALKING and KILLING people! Maya: [arms folded] A good soldier doesn't shy away from unglamorous work. Maya: You can be a "killing slut" later. Lezian: STOP CALLING ME THAT Masha (busy writing): Hey guys, what's a synonym for "bald"?

4. Skar, Rock, Kmakl [Queen Fen's husband]

It all works out great once they set some boundaries.

Skar: No more sex with your wife in the living room without warning us first. Kmarkl: Fiiiiine. Skar: We all love your stew, Rock, but sometimes other people want to use the big pot, too. Rock: Fair enough, fair enough! Rock: And you, Skar, need to stop throwing our stuff out the window just because we leave them lying around! Kmarkl: I couldn't find my lucky socks for two weeks! Skar: ... Skar: Wow, living together really is about compromise. 

5. Roshone, Huio, Taravangian

Mostly, I feel sorry for Huio.

Roshone: Can't believe my wife kicked me out. Can't belive I have to have roommates. Taravangian: Nobody go into the basement, okay? I'm using it to store my...stuff. Roshone: Why does your "stuff" require so much sound-proofing, anyway? Taravangian: It's, uh, a playroom for my...noisy grandchildren? Roshone: Sure, that feels right. Huio: [in the kitchen making soup] Huio: (muttering to himself in Herdazian): I'm NEVER telling them I can understand Alethi. 

6. Szeth, Rlain, Drehy

This is going to be SO good for Szeth's mental health! Drehy's gonna be working overtime helping both of his roommates, though.

Rlain: So, uh... Drehy: Yes, you may ask me all of your "gay" questions. Rlain: I really appreciate that! Szeth: Kaladin says that I must "ask other people" if I have a thought that "does not quite seem right." Szeth: I pose this to you both: if you burn a dinner you were really looking forward to, is death the answer? Rlain: No! Drehy: I'll order pizza.

7. Gezamal [Yanagawn's guard], Ishnah [Lightweaver], Testament [dead-eyed cryptic]

Testament is really the glue that holds this household together.

Gezamal: Ishnah, let's have dinner together tonight and talk. Ishnah: What, why? Gezamal: Testament and I share a bond since she is a dead-eye and I am Unoathed. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: You and Testament share a bond because you are a Ligthweaver and she is a Cryptic. Testament: [gives thumbs-up] Gezamal: For household solidarity, you and I should now figure out what we have in common. Ishnah: ...What's that big book you have? Gezamal: I pre-drafted a list of things we might have in common. Gezamal: For example, as a member of the Unseen Court, were you ever punished with lavatory duty? That happened to me once. Ishnah: Oh, this conversation is gonna be rough.

8. Elid [Szeth's sister], Kalak [herald], Wyndle

Kalak, scared as he is of humans, much prefers one of his two roommates...

Wyndle: Oh, I'm so glad you like this! "How It's Made" is one of my FAVORITE shows, but the  mistress says it's "boring." Kalak: It's great! I've never felt so calm! Elid: Yo, what are we watching? Kalak: Eep! Elid: ... Elid: The Almighty Herald is hiding behind a cushion again, huh? Wyndle: I-I'm sure he doesn't mean to offend you!

9. Wit, Aladar [highprince], Renarin

It's like Christmas came early for Wit--he likes to make fun of both of them!

Wit: [eyes glinting] Aladar: W-We should make an alliance now, Renarin! Aladar: Together we can stand up even to this man! Renarin: Oh,  uh... Renarin: I actually already made an alliance with Wit this morning, when he asked. Aladar: NOOOOO

10. Abidi the Monarch, the Thrill, Tanavast

Okay, I'm sure your mind went immediately to "sheer destruction," but what if...?

Tanavast: Abidi! It's YOUR turn to walk the Thrill! The Thrill: [bouncing excitedly at the word "walk"] Abidi: Not now, you fool! There are people being wrong on the internet, and I must bathe in their blood! [sitcom laugh track] Abidi: And I keep telling you to call me Abidi the Monarch! Tanavast (muttering): More like Abidi the Moron. The Thrill: Arf! Arft! [sitcom laugh track] [Theme song starts playing, revealing the sitcom title: 3 Old Gods]

[faghubby]

His little faggot

I grew up in a small town, Travis was my friend and my bully. It really depended on the day. Even though he was a year younger then me. He was bigger and stronger then me. The year I turned 16 we where friends. It was a hot August day and we had ride down to the lake.

"Paul what's this?" Travis asked. As he yanked up my underwear giving me a wedgie.

"Pretty panties Faggot" he told me.

"Travis, you can't tell anyone. I didn't have any clean underwear" I told him.

"Bullshit, Your a little faggot. Wait till everyone hears about this" Travis laughed. I couldn't let him tell anyone.

"Travis please I will do anything" I pleaded.

"Tell you what I will race you to the clearing if you beat me I forget all about this" Travis told me. He grabbed his bike I didn't even have a chance to pick my wedgie when I jumped on my bike and chased him. I had never rode so hard in my life. But Travis still won. I collapsed exhausted gasping for breath in the small clearing.

"Tavis stood above me and yanked down his shorts. His cock sprung free. I opened my eyes to see it he was bigger then me soft then I was hard I thought.

"Jerk me off faggot" he said kicking me.

"Then you won't tell?" I asked my hand already wrapped around his cock. I stroked him. I was still on my knees. He grew hard in my hand. He grabbed my hair as he came so I couldn't move and shot his load all over my shirt. This was the beginning of a long summer. Travis found me almost everyday. Demanding a handjob. Then one day. He came over to my house.

"Hey Faggot" he said pushing past me. He yanked his shorts down. I knew what he wanted and grasped his cock.

"No, suck it" he told me. I knelt down right there in the hall and looked at his hard cock.

"I never did this" I told him.

"Well better learn fast" he told me. I kissed his cock. Then licked it. It tasted of sweat. Travis grew impatient. I knew he had never gotten a blowjob as much as I had never given one. I tried to remember all the things I had seen In the few pornos I had seen. I took him in my mouth and instantly gagged. I tried a few things. And soon worked out to just sucking on the head as I jerked him off. He groaned and grabbed my hair. He held me their as he pumped his cum into my mouth.

"I liked that alot" Travis told me. As I spit out his cum.

"You should like that faggot, eat it all up" he told me, I looked up at him. "You heard me lick it off the floor" He laughed as I lowered my head and did.

"What no panties today?" He asked as he yanked up my tightie whities. "How about I male you wear a fucking bikini and go swimming at the lake" he laughed.

"Travis please" I begged.

"Bitch you are going to be my little faggot till I get bored" Travis laughed.

Travis was true to his word. He demanded I suck his cock everyday for the next week. I thought the summer over I am free as school started. Travis a year behind me meant I didn't see him at school.

It was the third day of school when Travis showed up at the bus stop. His older brother usually drove him.

"Been avoiding me?" He asked. Liv a younger girl from down the street was there. I shot Travis a look.

"What? Liv did you know Paulie here sucks cock" Travis laughed. Liv just ignored him. "I want you in panties every day. And after school you will come over to my house and suck my cock" Travis wispered in my ear. I just nodded.

After school I stole a pair of my sisters panties and rushed over to Travis's house. I was rushing. I liked this. It had started with wearing panties yes. They where soft and tight I loved how they felt. But it was more then that I didn't want Travis to tell anyone but I liked he power he had over me. And I had grown used to the taste of cum. I knocked on Travis door.

"Paul! Travis is out back" his mother told me. "It's good to see you" she called after me as I rushed to his backyard. I opened his "hideout" just an old shed. I opened the door and Travis wasn't alone.

"Told you he would be here" Travis told the other boy. I didn't really know him.

"Paulie here sucks dick" Travis said. I quickly closed the door quickly hoping no one heard. Travis yanked down his jeans and underwear and sat on a stool.

"Show him faggot" Travis laughed. I looked around nervous I wanted to argue that he said he wouldn't tell anyone. But instead I knelt and took him in my mouth. I had become proficient in sucking his cock. Able to take all of him in my mouth. I was soon sucking his cock with gusto. I felt hands grab my panties and yank.

"He does wear panties" the other boy laughed. "You should make him wear a dress" he laughed. I reached out and grabbed the boys belt. I unfastened it and pulled out his cock. I jerked him off as I sucked Travis.

"You little slut, who else you been sucking off?" Travis asked as the other boy came all over my hand. Travis finally came pumping his load down my throat.

"Ever fucked the little fag?" The boy asked Travis.

"You want to fuck him?" Travis smirked.

"Take off you pants" Travis told me.

"Travis we agreed to" I started Travis stood up and smacked me. My eyes teared and I unbuckled my pants. I took them off. The other boy named Mike took a broom handle.

"Bend over fag" he said. I pulled my panties down and he poked me with the broom handle.

"Travis please" I begged.

"Okay Mike that's enough. If we hurt him he will run home and tell mommy what a faggot he is" I pulled up my panties. And put my pants back on.

"You like me to fuck you wouldn't you?" Travis wispered in my ear as I opened the door. I didn't answer just looked into his eyes.

I started meeting Travis everyday after school he would have me do his homework then suck his cock.

"You should take me to the dance on Friday" Travis told me.

"What? I cant" I looked up from his homework.

"Really I would think you want to get all dressed up" Travis smiled.

He came up behind me. "You could shave your legs and get all girlie" his hands rubbed my shoulders. He ran his hands thru my long hair.

"You want me to take you, fuck you" Travis asked his hand slid down my chest he pinched my nipples. He had never touched me. I was about ready to burst. "You could go as your little sister" Travis told me. I stopped and spun around in his chair I pulled out his cock and sucked it, I had never done it without him telling me to. Also never in his house his mom was downstairs. After I rushed home and jerked off. But this time I fingered my ass. Would he really fuck me? I wanted him to. After I snuck into my mother's room. I found her panties. They where much different then my sisters cotton panties. I found a pair of red lacy panties. I kept searching and found pantyhose as well. I thought about Travis saying I should shave my legs. I went and took a hot bath. That's what my mother and sister did when they shaved. I loved the feel as I shaved one leg. I kept going I shaved off all my body hair. Not that I had much. My pits where difficult. I got out of the tub and found a tub of Vaseline I worked some in my ass. And pushed the handle of a hairbrush in. But just as I did my sister knocked on the door. I quickly threw on my robe and washed off the hairbrush.

I went to my roo.and put on my mother s panties, and pantyhose. Mom was at work all night, I heard Jan leave for the dance. I went to my mother's closet and found a black dress. That's when the doorbell rang. I hid.

"Faggot I know your home" I heard Travis call out. I slowly came out of my hiding spot.

"Look at you, more of fucking faggot then I thought" Travis laughed.

"We have lots of time, everyone at the dance" he told me. He pulled out his cock and I knelt down.

"I want your ass tonight" he told me pulling me to my feet he smacked my ass. He pushed me over the dining room table.

"Let me get some lube" I told him. He let me up and I ran to my mother's room. Grabbed a tube of KY and returned I bent over the table like he had me. He pulled up the dress and the pantyhose and panties down. He fumbled a bit but started pushing his cock into my ass.

"No doubt know your a fucking faggot" he told me as he pumped his load in my ass. I thought he would leave but instead he hung out watched a movie. Made me wait on him. After the movie he pulled out his cock again.

"You are going to get fucked alot after tonight faggot" Travis told me having me get on hands and knees as he worked his cock back into my ass.

The next day, he startd to pimp me out to his friends. It wasn't long before everyone knew. My mother helped me talk to a doctor. And bought me girl clothes. My sister helped me learn make up. For my birthday Mom took me to the spa for nails and hair.

I was Paula. And still did whatever Travis wanted.

[puckdoll]

mmmm can i humbly ask for reverse amnesia with kris??? make this man suffer a little

Leave it to Geno to reserve one of the VIP rooms at the most popular club in town. Take you all out, Geno had said after a particularly brutal loss, we, like, relax and drink. My treat.

My treat my ass. Inevitably by the end of the night, Geno would pay part of the bill and leave the rest for everyone else to cover. Same as every year, yet everyone else always fell for it. Kris hadn't for at least the past five years, always starting his own tab and leaving the rest to flounder. Not his problem if they hadn't learned yet.

Stumbling over his own feet, he caught himself on the wall and forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath. The bathroom in the lounge had been full--Kris was pretty sure he heard Doc and PO on the other side of the door, puking their guts out--so he'd been forced to step out. He hated this shit, the private lounges and the velvet ropes and the weird security guard that kept people out. He'd much rather go to a nondescript bar where he could fade into the crowd, and just hang with the guys. The drinks were always a lot cheaper, too.

He made his way up the illuminated stairs, the neon-purple lights stinging his eyes. Gaudy, he thought, but just the kind of thing Geno liked.

Nodding to the security, he went to enter the lounge, when that large, muscled arm jerked out, blocking his path. The security guard reeked of booze and Old Spice, a lethal combination that had Kris rocking back on his heels.

"Private party," the guard said, and didn't so much as blink when Kris glared.

"I know," Kris replied, a little hot, "I'm with them. I literally just came from there."

The guard smirked, tilting his head, the light refracting off of his bald scalp. "Nice try, but you're not getting in."

"This is ridiculous--" eyes sweeping the inside of the lounge, relief flooded him as he caught sight of Sid. "Sid! Hey--Sid."

Initially, Sid didn't visibly react, even though Kris knew he heard him. He wasn't that far away, Kris could almost touch him if he stretched as far as he could over the velvet rope. But upon the second call, Sid stopped, a look of resignation sweeping across his features before he turned. The entire thing was strange; this didn't feel like a joke, or some sort of awful prank.

The feeling intensified when Sid turned, slowly approaching the velvet rope. His guard was up, his entire body slowly tensing like it always did when he interacted with fans. He had plastered on his media face, the fake genial look that too many people read as genuine. "Hey," Sid said, not an ounce of real emotion in his tone.

Kris didn't like this at all.

"This guy says he's with you," the guard tilted his head back towards Sid, who's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I am," Kris protested, stomach twisting into knots at the looks the two exchanged. "I just came from there. Jesus Christ--Sid, you know me."

There was that head tilt, the slight adjustment of his weight, drawing himself up as he focused in on Kris. It was not a good sign. "I do?" Sid asked with the incredulity of a man who had met many 'long lost cousins' before.

Despite knowing that he was losing the argument, despite knowing deep in his gut that something terrible had happened--perhaps he was asleep, in a fucking nightmare that he desperately wanted to wake up from--he kept going, digging himself deeper and deeper into this hole. "I--Sid. We've played together nearly twenty years, we've--God, we've won three cups together."

That was the wrong thing to say. Sid's face shut down, the shutters closing. "We've won one," he said, and Kris could feel himself react, his jaw dropping and his brows arching as Sid continued, "Just the one."

"No--no, that's not true at all." Kris' eyes scanned the lounge, searching for someone else, anyone else. Where the fuck is Rusty, he thought, where's EK? Surely Sid was just misremembering. Surely--

He didn't know what else to do. He couldn't accept that this was his reality, that somehow by going to the bathroom and coming back, he was in an alternate universe where he wasn't a hockey player--because, fuck, Sid didn't even recognize him--and the Pens had only won one cup. Did Sid hit his head? There had got to be some explanation as to why--

Sid turned to walk away, frustration embedded into his features, like Kris had just insulted his mother and sister to his face. Kris' heart leapt into his throat--if Sid left, if he walked away, how the hell could he prove--

My jacket, he thought, eyes landing on the dark leather coat draped across the back of the chair. That's my fucking coat.

"What?" Sid turned back, brows furrowed. Kris hadn't even realized he'd spoken out loud, but he had, as Sid was staring him down instead of disappearing further into the lounge. The security guard was the only thing keeping Kris back, one large arm wrapped around his chest as Kris attempted to lean over the velvet rope, his nails digging into the guard's forearms.

"That's my coat," Kris said, pointing to it with the urgency of a dying man. "Just--it's my coat. If I'm not who I say I am, why's my coat there?" At Sid's skeptical look, Kris gesticulated wildly towards it. "Check it. Check. My wallets in there, my phone. Phone's in the right pocket, wallet's on the left side, inside zip."

Like he was possessed, Sid moved to Kris' coat, hands dipping into the pockets, searching. He pulled out Kris' phone, and Kris' heart soared. Then, he reached in, and pulled out Kris' wallet, flipping it open and sliding his driver's license out. Sid stared at it for a moment before his eyes darted up, curious but untrusting. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Kris," God, he sounded so pathetic, practically pleading with Sid to believe him while he was restrained, "Kristopher Joseph Pierre Irwin Letang. April 24th, 1987."

There was no recognition in Sid's eyes. Instead, he slid the license back into its slot then into it's pocket, zipping it up. He approached the velvet rope, holding out Kris' jacket like it personally offended him. The last bit of hope Kris had been clinging on to began to violently die.

"Sorry," Sid said, the coat falling limply into Kris' hand as he stepped back. "I don't know how it got in here. One of the guys must've grabbed--"

"You are Victoria's godfather," the words left his lips in a rush, panic and fear twisting in his gut as Sid jerked his head back, "You're my daughter's godfather. Your sister had a pet hamster as a kid that died because your mom sucked it up in the vacuum and it had a heart attack. She made you go buy another one and you felt so guilty about it you eventually told Taylor, who told you she knew because her old hamster was a girl and you bought a boy. You despise the way Geno eats his food but you'd never tell him that because you care about him way too much; you order pineapple as a side when the team goes out and gets pizza so you can still have it on the pizza without forcing everyone else to eat it like that. You're thinking of getting another cat because you're nervous that Maverick gets lonely. You--"

"--I think you should go."

The definitiveness, the finality of his words left Kris speechless. There was genuine fear and apprehension in Sid's eyes, like Kris had just flayed him open and played in his guts before attempting to sew him back up. Everything Kris had said had rung true, was true in this universe, and Sid didn't know how to reconcile the fact this complete stranger--to him, at least--knew all of these things about him. This wasn't something you could Google, probably wasn't even anything you could ask Sid's friend about because they were conversations that only he and Sid had together.

Still, it wasn't enough. Still, Kris was being sent away, unaware of where the fuck he was, who the fuck he was, if his entire life had been a dream, or if he'd even wake up from this nightmare.

Without a word, Kris pushed himself up, and took a step back, stumbling backwards down the stairs, his jacket clenched tightly in his hands. He pushed through the clubs door, practically gasping for air as the cold swarmed him. He staggered away from the entrance and down the street, away from the bright lights and line of people waiting to get in. As he was shrouded in darkness, his hands fumbled into his pocket, yanking his phone out.

The screen saver was of him and some random guy he didn't recognize. His fingers shook as he typed in his passcode. His background was, again, of that same guy with a German Shepherd. He stared at the photo, and thought, am I fucking dating him?

Text messages from a man named Youri--not his Youri, because this number was completely wrong, and this Youri didn't text the same at all--popped up along the top of his phone as he stared blankly, asking him if he was okay and when he was going to be home. Swiping them away, he pulled up his photo app, searching through them with a hunger that he'd never felt before.

There was no Cath. No Alex, no Victoria. Just him, a bunch of people Kris didn't recognize, that man, and the dog. The only people he recognized was his family.

"What the fuck," he whispered, sinking down on the curb, clutching his phone so tight he feared it might crack, "what the fuck."

There was no Sid in his contacts. No Geno, no EK, no Flower. Not even his fucking agent was listed.

Before he could really think it through, he was pulling open his messages, punching in a phone number for a new text. It had to be Sid's number still, right? Not everything could've changed.

I know your number, Kris typed, almost in a frenzy, I know you. Please believe me.

Sid read the message. Three dots popped up, then disappeared. Kris pressed the edge of his phone between his brows, scrunching his eyes shut.

He didn't know what to do. Didn't know where to go. Who the fuck was he, where the fuck was he, why had everything changed when he had left the lounge--

"You Letang?"

That Russian accent sent hope surging through Kris, his head snapping up, each vertebrae popping in his neck as he craned backwards. Geno stood in the halo of the lamp post, his face shadowed. Even still, Kris could tell he was on guard. Why are you here, he thought, before it answered itself. Kris had been Sid's guard dog; with him gone, him being nonexistent in their lives, someone else had to step up. Clearly, in this fucked up universe, that duty fell to Geno.

"Yes," he said, hopeful, despite everything, "You recognize me?"

Geno tilted his head. That was a no.

"Fuck," Kris said, putting his face in his hands again, "fuck."

"You act like I'm supposed to know you."

"Because you do. This shit isn't fucking real."

Geno said nothing, and Kris had to bite his lip to stop himself from rambling. Fucking fuck.

"Sid say you know things about him he not tell anyone. That you know his number. How?"

"Like I said," Kris said, resignation slowly begging to eat away at his frustration and anger, "you know me. I know him. We--" his voice cracked, just for a split second, "were something."

The implication didn't seem to be lost on Geno, because every inch of him perked like a hunting dog. Kris bowed his head, fingers twisting in his hair and pulling. Maybe, he thought, without a sliver of optimism, maybe he'll believe me.

"I'm think you sick," Geno said, effectively crushing whatever fight he had left in him for tonight. "You need help? I'm call cab, ambulance for you?"

"No," Kris swiped at his eyes, at the tears that were beginning to brew. "No. I'm good."

Silence gathered between them, the only sound being the echoes of life from the bar and Kris' occasional wet, snotty sniffles. He didn't know why this was getting to him so badly, but he supposed having your life turned upside down in the span of an evening would do that to you, especially when you got confirmation, twice, that it was real. That there wasn't going to be a gentle pat on the back, a reassurance that they'd just been fucking with you.

Geno's shoes scraped against the sidewalk as he turned to walk away, evidently deciding that Kris wasn't a threat.

"Hey."

Geno paused, glancing over his shoulders. Kris ground his forehead against the heels of his hands before he turned his head, mouth pressing against his bicep as he stared tiredly at Geno. They locked eyes, Geno's slit but curious, Kris' open and exposed, wet. Kris sniffed. "Remind PO that he needs to re-lace his skates."

PO had taken the laces out last game, and had put them back, shoddily. He missed a couple of holes, and hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet. No one had noticed except for the guys in the room.

Geno's eyes widened, his lips parting, but still, there was no recognition within those kind eyes. Curiosity, shock, confusion, but Kris was still a stranger in his eyes.

Turning away, Kris tightened his grip on his hair, staring between his knees. Geno stayed, his eyes burning a hole through Kris' thin shirt for a couple minutes before he left, clearly unconvinced. Had ultimately decided that Kris was just a freak who was either really good at guessing, or a stalker.

There was nothing more he could do. Kris sat on that curb in the cold, staring at the pavement until his eyes grew blurry, until the club went quiet and the street lights began to flicker off.

Kris checked his phone. A couple more texts from Youri. Swiping them away, he opened the chain he had started with Sid's number.

You liked it when I kissed you, he typed, you liked that it was uncomplicated, that the three of us could be together and go home to Kathy, to Anna, to Cath. You liked that you could forget about us.

He clicked send. It came back undelivered.

[oh-phoenixx]

“St. Mungos” - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 496 words

@abductedhiko

-

“Alright, Mr. Potter. I need to check your vitals and cast a few healing spells,” Regulus said with a smile. He had taken a liking to Fleamont in the few days that he’d been at St. Mungos, after suffering a pretty scary heart attack.

Euphemia walked into the room holding baked goods from the cafe just opposite the hospital. Fleamont beamed up at her and held out his hand for them, but Euphemia shook her head and put them out of his reach. “Let’s see what your vitals say first.”

Fleamont let out a sort of whine-chuckle that made Euphemia glare fondly at him. Regulus chuckled and checked his vitals, recasting healing spells he’d been keeping up for the last two days. Once he was done and had confirmed that everything was looking good, all things considered, Euphemia handed Fleamont his food.

“I’ll be back in a few hours, Mr. Potter,” Regulus told him.

“Call me Monty, please,” Fleamont reminded him.

When Regulus came back, as he said he would, a few hours later, Euphemia and Fleamont were not the only ones in the room.

“James, you really didn’t have to come,” Fleamont sighed, though he was gripping James’s hand and grinning up at him.

“I can spare a few hours. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a heart attack,” James replied, trying to look angry but failing quite miserably, as he simply seemed relieved that his father was okay.

Regulus cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the man. He kept his eyes on Fleamont’s chart as he approached them.

“Ah, Regulus, this is my son, James,” Fleamont introduced proudly. “Plays for the Montrose Magpies, he does!”

“Dad,” James groaned, “you don’t have to tell people that every time.”

Regulus hid his smile as he kept his eyes trained on the chart. “Dr. Rosier will be in to see you tomorrow morning, and if all is well, you can go home.”

The following morning, Fleamont was discharged from the hospital. Regulus was not needed, as Evan had been the one to check him over. So, he didn’t have to see Fleamont’s son again, to his great relief.

Well, that’s what he thought, anyway.

“Hey, Regulus,” a low voice said from beside him.

Regulus looked up to see James, all hazel eyes and messy hair. He was grinning like a mad-man, leaning far too close to Regulus. Regulus took a step back, turning back to his paperwork, which was suddenly very interesting.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” James commented.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t needed.” Regulus swallowed hard.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” James said.

Before Regulus could say anything else, James slipped him a piece of paper. “Bye, Regulus.” James winked and walked away confidently.

Regulus looked down at the piece of paper, which had a phone number written on it, and underneath, ‘You took care of my dad. Wonder if I could take care of you to repay the debt.’

[wackulart]

Wrote a lil thing based on @bonefries's franco reagent post!! bc the design inspired me a lot, it does feature a reagent coyle but he's not based on any design, just some speculation and hcs i talked abt with friends!

FRANCO REAGENT AU FICLET

Franco’s leg bounces under the table, eyes burning into the side of a reagent’s face. This dark haired prick has been making quite the stink as of late. It’s been quite the toss up, a good amount of people can’t stand the guy, but he’s found his group. Enough that they tend to stick together and make it hell for everyone else. Franco’s heard rumours that the guy used to be some sorta cop. It would make sense, the guy’s a total blowhard. 

Part of him is jealous. 

Okay, all of him is jealous but that’s only because the guy’s got people flocking to him like sheep. 

In here, Franco’s got no power, no gun, no nothing. The occasional reagent’s tried to chat with him, but it’s always with that look of pity and desperation.

He’d rather be alone than team up with some pussy.

He waits, watching one of the reagent’s goons exit the room and head over to the cafeteria. Franco keeps his head down as they pass by and he makes his move. He gets up and walks down the hall, spotting the asshole’s name written above his room.

Leland Coyle. 

If he had any doubt the guy was a cop, it’s gone now. The room is full of propaganda and police paraphernalia. He wants to roll his eyes at the sight. Those pigs always get a bit jittery if they can’t get a taste of that leather boot.

Franco steps over to the door, sniffling and clearing his throat. There aren’t any locks on the rooms so he pushes the door open. Coyle’s back is turned to him, fiddling with some shit under his bed. Franco’s tempted to try and attack him while he’s distracted, but he decides to wait. His work before this had a lot to do with violence, but there was also time for talking. Sometimes words held more power than spilling blood did. Though, it’s still pretty fun to shoot someone in the face.

God, he misses Lupara.

“Hey, you the cop?” He folds his arm, hoping to exude confidence despite his stature and pounding heart.

The man pauses, looking back over his shoulder. His eyes are cold before he pulls his sunglasses down over his face. He stands, kicking some box under the bed. Even behind the glasses, Franco can tell the other’s sizing him up. Then Coyle laughs, the sound making a pit in Franco’s stomach and his eyes grow hot. He blinks, fighting the already short temper he has.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Franco spits back.

Coyle’s smile begins to fade as he walks up to him. He looks down and while the man himself isn’t particularly tall, he’s just a bit taller than Franco. Which seems to be enough to establish some form of dominance. 

“Who d’you think yer talkin’ to like that, you little tumor?”

Franco’s mouth barely opens before he’s grabbed by the collar. He can barely breathe while all the blood in his body drains. 

His eyes scramble around as he claws at the man’s grip. “Let go a’ me, pig!”

Coyle tosses him into the wall and he feels old bruises ache. Franco already feels his eyes watering, but he’s quick to action. Being further in the room, he jumps to his feet and grabs the nearest object he could find. A megaphone finds its way into his hands and he swings it as hard as he can when the reagent rushes him. It breaks over the man’s head. Franco charges back, wrapping his arms around his chest and pushing him over the stairs.

Unfortunately with all the adrenaline flowing through him, he doesn’t think ahead and the both of them fall over the railing. They hit the ground with a loud thump and Franco feels his head ache before he blacks out.

He comes to his senses in a hospital bed, looking around the room, it seems familiar. It’s likely the same one’s across from where he got his introduction surgery. Franco rubs his forehead, his head snapping to the side when he hears a groan. Coyle wakes up in another bed a few feet from his own. He blinks and looks around before his gaze lands on Franco.

The look of his storm blue eyes darkening in a sickening fury sends a shot of fear down Franco’s spine. Then, Coyle lunges at him and Franco’s hands go to cover his face from any further damage. All he hears is the clanking of metal yet no pain comes to him. He opens his eyes and lowers his hands to see Coyle’s been cuffed to his bed. He grins and laughs, now having the freedom to do so. He sits up on his bed, about to start more shit before they’re interrupted by a doctor arriving.

Franco lays against the wall while Coyle struggles on his chains, yelling random shit at the doctor. He might get his ass beat when they head back to the sleep room, but if felt pretty damn good knocking the cop over the stairs.

That’ll keep Franco smiling for a while.

[egophiliac]

I have a question about the jp server pickups, since I really want knight Sebek, but I’m trying to save gems for bloom malleus + the 3rd tsum event that’s gonna show up sooner or later. Iirc, after knight Sebek, the next story update’s pickup had all of the previous story cards (ie cerberus Ortho, general Lilia, and knight Sebek). Is this true, and if it is, did it include a token system like the dorm pickups where you can just do 100 pulls and then buy the specific card you want directly? Because if that is how it works, then I can wait until then and be sure I won’t have to go to 200 for him.

we did indeed get a second chance at those three when 7-7 came out! I'm pretty sure there was not a token system -- though admittedly I don't 100% remember, sorry! 🙇 I took a quick search through some past posts/videos from people who tend to include the gacha and news stuff, but I didn't see any mention of it, so I'm inclined to think there really wasn't one. :( they were all separate pickups with their own pull counts rather than a combined one, if that info helps at all.

speaking as a strict f2p who hoards keys/gems like the lovechild of a dragon and a magpie, given the choice between saving for a story card and a birthday card, I'd go for story -- it does require a lot of patience, but there are way more opportunities to get past birthday cards, both from the anniversary events and the rerun pickups! tsums is a bit harder to say anything on because Eng doesn't follow the same event schedule, but it's a longish event and those pickups let you have a free 10-roll, so I think they're also a bit easier to save up for.

(ALSO speaking of free rolls, starting with the fifth round of birthdays -- the kutsurogi my room ones -- the birthday boy/union jacket/bloom cards have had a separate pickup that you can get two free 10-pulls at by doing missions! I got a bloom Jade from it a couple weeks ago. :D meanwhile general Lilia is the only story card I've ever managed to pull, so...I'm probably kinda biased. whoops.)

[nexus-nebulae]

went to a farmers market the other day bc someone spontaneously asked if i wanted to go with them and i bought a bunch of vegetables and somehow for the first time in years I've had the energy and motivation to make myself a sandwich and a salad out of them

[bumblingbabooshka]

Worst Guy Ever - Also, Unfortunately, Very Homosexual Convo. (subtextually)

[ceciliathecabinwitch]

Making some white turkey chili in a little bit and I’m honestly so excited

Bf and I are coming to a time of semi rest before he starts a new (full time!!) job at the start of the year but there’s still a lot of residual stress lingering around and I think we could def use some comfort food

And imho soups/stews/chilis are some of the easiest foods to transition to magic as well, so there’s definitely gonna be some of that in there too (especially because this is my first chance to bust out my giant stew pot since we moved in and there are few things that feel more like making potions to me)