#i just think that there's a clear reason why these past like....four months i just feel like no one likes me

[theravequeen]

Sometimes I wonder if people find me annoying and if I should stop replying to my mutuals/friends posts

Like maybe every time they see a notification from me they just silently beg "ugh, Raven, just shut up already"

But im sure it's all in my head right haha

[rhysazriel]

Meet Me in the Copy Room [CEO!Rhysand]

SUMMARY: Rhysand is Y/N’s boss but he likes his secretary more than he should. (10.8k)

WARNINGS: teasing, swearing, kissing, smut; dirty talk, fingering, oral (both receiving and face sitting), protected sex, multiple orgasms

A/N: this is a fic from my other account that I no longer use, I changed some bits around for it to fit Rhys' character after an anon had requested it!! Also, this is a Modern AU bc Rhys’ vibe screams CEO hehe

Y/N has worked in many places before Velaris LTD. She was a waitress for a brief few months when she was in college at a diner near her dorm. She was also a librarian for six months and a part-time barista in the cafe down the street from her parents home. 

She’s done her share in retail and even a year working in the bank, but as of recent, the past seven months, she’s been employed by Velaris LTD, one of the worlds finest trading companies.

She’s no longer assigned a God awful uniform, nor does she have to converse with the general public and adhere to the customers' every need. No. Now, Y/N has her own little office area with a big reception desk with her own phone and separate line across her boss’ office. 

Now, she has her own computer and a little fax machine and she wears heels with pencil skirts and pretty blouses.

Given, she’s a secretary, but an important one at that. She’s not the kind of secretary that runs pointless errands and gets her boss coffee while adhering to their every beck and call. She arranges meetings in the most elite of clubs and restaurants. She files the reports she’s meant to and she handles his schedule and phone calls. 

He may be the CEO, but Y/N is the one behind closed doors that ensures everything runs as smoothly as it does.

And sure, Rhysand is the literal face and name of his damn company and he should ideally hire someone to run the damn business for him, but he’s also narcissistic and refuses whenever it’s brought up to let another man or woman run his business for him. 

Maybe that’s what she likes so much about her job. That he doesn’t trust anyone to be by his side except her.

It’s something she’s struggled to understand for the longest time. She’s three years younger than him, barely just turned twenty-six, yet he chose to hire her over all the other highly-qualified applicants. 

She hasn’t complained about it, would never. Her job is too good. As his personal secretary, her monthly wage is what four months at the diner used to get her. And don’t get her started on the other perks her position offers.

She’s thankful, and she makes that very clear in every opportunity she gets. She didn’t know Rhysand before she got the job, and if she’s completely honest, she’d never ever heard of him. 

She expected him to be some stuck up prick that didn’t respect women and only cared for his company and business. She was proven incredibly wrong at her interview when he made her a cup of tea and asked inclusive questions her previous employers didn’t care to think of.

Within three weeks of having the job, she’d learned more about him than the colleagues that have worked for him since the beginning of his firm. And she doesn’t mean things like how he takes his coffee and his favourite places to go for lunch. She means she knows what laundry detergent he can’t use because it irritates his skin. 

She knows his mother and sister are the most important women to him, that he sometimes misses his mundane life working with his brothers. She knows the meanings behind almost every single tattoo he has and that while the press made him out to be a cheating womaniser when his fiancee left him two years ago, it was actually her that did the cheating and left him heartbroken.

She’s always wondered why Rhysand trusts her so much. She’s never given him a reason not to, and she never would, but it’s always been in the back of her mind. But then, she supposes she doesn’t know why Rhys does a lot of things that regard her. 

Like how, in the mornings, he brings her coffee on his way past her desk. How he always insists he delivers paperwork to her himself and softly apologises for how much she has to file away. 

Or how he’ll send her cheeky emails from his personal about how annoying Gerione is when she tries to flirt with him. And on more than one occasion, she’s noticed him leaning in his chair to get a peek at her through the window of his office; craning his neck up to see her past the high wall of her reception-like desk.

She doesn’t say anything to him, though. She supposes he’s trying to sneakily check in on her to make sure she’s actually doing the work. Y/N knows she’s not the youngest to work for Velaris LTD, but she is the youngest to be fully employed and not as an intern. 

She’s faced ageism within the company since her first day. She’s either babied by the mothers of the company, or criticised and borderline bullied by the ones a few years older and higher up. She hasn’t much let it get to her, though. She figures she’s clearly a valuable asset if the company is still running and Rhysand still wants her by his side.

Today feels no different from any other. She gets to work at 7:45 AM, a sleepy smile on her lips as she greets Amora at the front desk. He smiles through tightly pursed lips and quickly avoids her gaze, greeting another worker with a high-pitched laugh and kissing their cheek. 

Y/N keeps walking, doesn’t let herself dwell and makes for the elevator. She’s alone until she gets up to the twelfth floor and the keycard clipped to her pencil skirt is gently patting against the left side of her lower tummy.

She doesn’t let her eyes take in her appearance as she walks past the floor-to-ceiling mirror that encompasses an entire 15-foot long wall. She knows her ponytail is tight enough and that her shirt is probably a little wonky because her bag that rests on her shoulder is tugging at the collar of it. 

She also doesn’t let herself look to her right because she doesn’t think she has the energy to pretend to ignore the snickers and grimaces from a few of the thirteenth-floor girls this morning.

Instead, Y/N rounds the corner and gets comfortable behind her desk. Her bag is tucked underneath it and her fingers make quick work of logging onto her computer and getting started for the day. Rhysand’s office is directly opposite her, thin windows either side of the tall door and from her seat, she can see his empty desk and a gorgeous view of the city.

It’s exactly 8 AM when Rhysand greets her with her morning coffee. He’s dressed in his usual slick black suit with a charming smile on those pink lips. Y/N would be lying if she said she’s never thought about her boss in more than a professional way. She’s thought about him in many different scenarios where he has her in many different positions.

“Good morning, Rhysand,” she greets him softly, a gentle smile on her plump lips. 

That was another thing that took her a while to get the hang of. Rhys doesn’t like to be referred to by his last name. The first time she greeted him as such, he waved it off and insisted she called him Rhysand or Rhys. 

It’s been months since she even thought of his last time… to the point where every time she sees it on some paperwork, she struggles to pair it with him.

Rhys takes his time every morning to admire her and her outfit of the day. He’s thoroughly pleased about the tight blouse and many open buttons at the top that offer the delicious view of the swell of her perky tits.

He averts his gaze with another charming grin, and can feel his trousers slowly begin to tighten as he places her coffee on her desk. “Morning, darling. How did you sleep?” he asks, always taking a few minutes out of his morning to make sure she feels okay and slept well the night before.

Rhysand’s never really known himself why he purposely goes out of his way to ask her these things. He doesn’t bother to do much with any other of his workers, nor his previous personal secretaries. 

He tells himself it’s because she’s young and new, so he wants to make sure she feels as comfortable and as included as he can. But she’s only three years younger than him and she’s been working for him for over a year.

He needs to stop feeding himself that same bullshit excuse.

Y/N gleams a pretty smile and leans forward with her elbows on the desk, subsequently pressing her tits together deliciously. Rhysand licks his lips, eyeing up her chest before gazing back at her pretty smile again. But it doesn’t go unnoticed and it stirs something that oozes confidence inside her.

She tilts her head a little, a hint of something mischievous in her eyes but Rhys doesn’t notice. Figures she’s too innocent to catch on to his somewhat advances, but little does he know. 

“Slept okay, it’s just really hot in my house lately… I need to speak with my landlord about getting a new AC fitted or I’ll be stuck sleeping naked until further notice,” she tells him through a seemingly innocent sigh, shrugging her shoulders and as hard as Rhysand tries to hide his bulging eyes, she catches them, along with the bulging in his pants.

He raises his brows in amusement and a lopsided grin pulls at the corners of his pink lips. He tilts his head like she did. “Do you only sleep naked when your air con is broken? Thought that’s something people living alone normally did? Freeing and all. I do it,” he shrugs his shoulders. He’s subtly prying, trying to learn if she still lives alone in that cutsey townhouse just twenty minutes away, or if she’s got a man on the scene.

He watches the apples of her cheeks twitch and he wonders if she’s imagining him sleeping naked. She is. He smirks to himself at the thought of what she must be mustering up in that pretty little head of hers. 

It’s nothing new between the two; occasional flirting and topics that definitely should not be discussed between a boss and his secretary. He likes to watch her squirm and splutter and innocently reply in a way that has blood rushing to his cock. 

He’s always observed her closely during these types of interactions, knows how to read her body language. He’s come to learn when she feels uncomfortable, and she’s never shown any signs of discomfort during said topics.

“And it would be freeing if I didn’t have a friend staying with me that often forgets to knock on my bedroom door before storming in,” she chuckles dryly, wondering if her words would rile him up or not. 

She doesn’t know why they would. 

She figures it’s all just harmless banter between the two; a little bit of flirtatious teasing to loosen them up when things get a little stressy. She’s dead certain someone as successful as him would never actually want anything romantic with his fucking assistant.

His brows raise higher than before, can feel his hand ball into tightly clenched fists and he clears his throat, gritting his teeth behind a hard smile. “Oh? You’ve got a friend staying with you?” he asks in a soft tone that doesn’t suggest he’s pissy that her friend gets to see her naked and between her sheets. 

He wonders what else she does naked between the sheets in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. 

She nods, soft hum verberating in her closed mouth as she types something quickly on her computer. “Yeah, he just broke up with his girlfriend so he’s staying at mine until he can get his stuff out and move into the new flat he’s found.” She watches him inhale a shaky breath through his flared nostrils and avert his gaze to the wall behind her.

She’s got a glimmer of a smirk on her lips, eyes light and playful but he doesn’t notice that. Rhysand’s too caught up with the newfound knowledge that it’s a male friend that’s walking in on her naked. 

She wonders if he’s imagining her naked in bed… or maybe entertaining the idea of her fucking her friend one night when he walks in on her. She thinks that might be it but it doesn’t explain why he looks royally pissed… dare she say; jealous?

She tilts her head when he looks back down at her, jaw still set and he clears his throat, seemingly trying to cool himself down. His elbows are bent as his forearms rest on the top of his desk, his back arched just slightly. 

“Not got anyone else he can stay with? What did they break up for?” he pushes further, hopes she’ll turn around and say it’s because he realised he’s gay. She doesn’t.

Instead, Y/N shrugs her shoulders and her elbow leans on the desk, her chin sitting in the palm of her hands as she gazes up at him leaning on the second level of her station. 

“Things weren’t working, he didn’t wanna be tied down just yet. Wanted to have a bit of fun before settling.” She can see the gears in his head turn and tick away as he hums absentmindedly.

She tries not to squint at him, to gauge his reaction and decipher what the meaning behind his distant gaze is. She tries not to look too closely into his blushing cheeks and set jaw. She tries not to let herself fantasise about him being jealous and wanting her to himself. She tries, but it doesn’t work.

Rhysand hums, nodding as if he gets it and maybe he does. She knows all about his one night stands and sleepless nights at the strip clubs he frequents. She also knows about the countless booty calls that tend to frequent his office, only for him to ask her to call security to escort the women out. 

And she absolutely should not find great joy in watching them huff as security links their beefy arms in their dainty ones, but she does.

Y/N thinks she keeps that secret to herself, but more times than not, Rhysand’s seen the hint of a smirk tug at the corner of her lips when he leans on the doorframe of his office. He knows she doesn’t notice him watching her, he likes knowing she thinks he doesn’t see things. He sees it all.

“Well hopefully he’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” he proposes and she has a sneaky suspicion that he’s subtly asking how long he’ll be staying with her. Which is exactly what he’s doing. Y/N hums again and shrugs her shoulders. 

“Actually, I don’t mind him being there, I quite enjoy the company. Gets a bit lonely in the evenings sometimes, to be honest,” she baits.

She watches with a small smirk as Rhys inhales a deep and hollow breath, bowing his head a little so his chin almost rests against his black tie, his jaw knocking against his shirt collar. She doesn’t know where this sudden confidence is coming from. Can she even call it confidence? She isn’t flirting, just baiting him to gauge his reactions.

“Don’t fancy going out with your girlfriends?” He tries to steer away from the topic of other men in her life, but Y/N isn’t finished just yet. 

“Sometimes, on the weekends, sure. But it gets a bit annoying when guys don’t know how to take a hint and keep trying to hit on you all night,” she sighs in fake annoyance and she’s certain she sees red flash through Rhysand’s eyes.

She lets herself think he’s jealous, protective. The thought of her boss thinking of her in a sexual manner and hating the idea of other men being in her home or hitting on her is exciting. It’s a thrilling rush of blood that causes tingles between her thighs and has her pressing them together beneath her desk.

Rhysand’s none the wiser. His fists clench at the image of another man dancing up her but his cock bloats at the thought of her dancing on a night out. No doubt in a short and tight dress. He knows tonight he’ll let himself think he can feel the swell of her ass rubbing against his crotch, let himself think he can taste her lips on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything else and Y/N thinks he’s thoroughly fucked in his head. “Well, I’ve emailed over your schedule for the morning. Have a good day, Rhys.”

//

Through the rest of the morning, Rhysand struggles to focus on anything that isn’t her. He’s had two conference calls and for both video meetings from his office, he’s been leaned over in his chair with a strained neck, trying to catch sight of what she’s doing at her desk through the thin window in his door. 

He was more than thankful when the calls ended because when she sat on her knees on her chair and leaned over the top of the desk, her tits almost spilled out of her blouse and Rhysand spent the rest of the hour sporting a rock hard boner.

He thinks she’s doing it on purpose when she comes into him after her lunch break. She’s taken her hair out of her ponytail and it falls in loose waves down her shoulders. 

She enters his office with her hands full of paperwork that just so happen to stop beneath the swell of her breasts so they’re able to sit on the pile; all perky and swollen. She’s got a shy smirk on her lips, too. Like she knows she’s taking her end of the teasing a little further and she lets out a little huff of relief after she plops them onto his desk.

Rhys doesn’t try to hide his stare on her chest and she wonders if he catches her staring at the thick bulge in his pants. Neither parties say anything to the other but as their eyes meet, it’s like an unspoken understanding is pieced together. 

A silent acknowledgement that they both know what the other is doing and that they’re more than okay with it. Like all lines between them are completely blurred and any boundaries are ready to be pushed aside.

He watches her hips sway as she leaves his office, closing the door behind her when she leaves. His neck cranes again as he leans to his side in his swivel chair, watching her type something on her computer through the window again. 

Her brows are furrowed softly as she stands and rounds her desk, meeting his gaze through the thin glass and walking past his office completely. He tries to watch her but she disappears from his line of sight and an email pings through his laptop.

Y/N: Meet me in the copy room.

He’s leaping out of his chair before he can even push himself away from his desk. His strides are long and quick as he rips his office door open and slams it closed behind him. He clears his throat and avoids the gaze of his employees, ignores the ogling looks he earns from the women he knows touch themselves to the thought of him late at night.

Rhysand sneaks his way into the copy room, kicking the door closed behind him. She stands in front of him, leaning against the copier with a flirtatiously shy smile. He reaches blindly behind him and twists the lock, his bottom lip taut between his teeth as he ogles her shamelessly. She feels shy under his gaze, knowing he doesn’t care to hide how attracted he is to her.

She doesn’t have time to feel awkward or rake her brain for something to say because he’s rushing toward her and with both large hands caressing her cheeks, his lips are smearing against hers. 

Y/N reaches up and tangles her fingers in his messily styled hair, twisting the curls and tugging softly. His hands leave her face in desperation as they pinch at her hips before rounding her body and squeezing deliciously at her ass.

She tastes like strawberries; her tongue swirling against his. His mind is swimming and all he wants to do is taste her little honey pot, wants to know if she tastes as sweet down there as she does on her tongue. 

She’s no better. His tongue works skilfully against her, licking into her warm mouth and nibbling softly at her bottom lip. She can’t help but suckle filthily on his tongue, wishing to God she was on her knees as he fucks her mouth.

Both of their minds are hazy; like everything they feel is overwhelming and yet not enough all at once. Y/N feels the pulsing between her thighs, can feel her little lace panties soaking up her arousal and Rhysand’s cock is painfully hard in his pants—knows his tip is fucking leaking and no doubt a delicious purple shade.

“God, I‘ve been wanting to do this for so long,” he admits gruffly into her mouth, grabbing handfuls of her ass over her skirt but it’s too tight for him to spread her cheeks like he fucking needs to. 

Y/N whimpers into his mouth and he hikes her up and onto the desk, just beside the copier machine. He rolls her skirt up her thighs until it’s bunched tightly around her waist. Her clothed pussy sits against the cold wood and she shudders, tugging him between her spread legs.

“Why didn’t you?” She breathes heavily into the kiss. 

His hands are gripping at her thighs; the cool metal of his rings sending chills through her body and she’s desperately stripping him from his suit jacket. He groans, hands rushing back up to her face to cup her jaw while he struggles to fight against her to keep his jacket on. 

He kisses her lips and pulls away, mind foggy but he wants to take his time with her, not have a quick fuck in the copy room and never again after that.

“Didn’t know if you wanted it, too,” he breathes, warm breath fanning across her lips and she reaches up blindly to kiss him again. Her eyes are hooded, lips swollen, and Rhysand’s fucked at the sight of her. 

“I do want to, if it wasn’t already obvious,” she groans shyly, a heavy heat sitting on her cheeks and he chuckles, ego inflating as his cock pulses in his pants.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he promises and her eyes light up before she lets him finish his sentence. “But not here, not now. I want to take my time with you,” he rumbles through his chest, cupping her cheeks again and Y/N pouts breathlessly, her once confident demeanour slowly shifting and she feels a little small under his gaze.

“Fuck me now and take your time with me later,” she bargains, not even the slightest bit ashamed of how forward and desperate she’s letting herself seem. 

He’s no better. The second the words slip from her lips, he’s kissing her again; harder than before. It’s desperate; needy and raw. His fingers are tugging her shirt down and her breasts spill over and out of her bra.

Y/N’s head falls back as he tweaks a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting as he continues his assault down her lean neck. She’s letting breathy whimpers slip past her lips as her head rolls against her shoulder. Y/N scratches at his back, tugging off his suit jacket and he throws it across the boxed room.

Rhys dips his head from her neck, kissing across her clavicle and nipping at her collarbones. He massages hungry open-mouthed kisses across the swell of her tits, circling her pearled nipple with his skilled tongue and she shudders as he envelopes his lips around it, suckling softly and flicking his tongue.

“Rhys,” she breathes in a wanton pant. 

He feels his cock bloat at the sound of his name slipping past her lips in a desperate whimper. Hearing her shudder his name as he latches on her nipple is something he didn’t know he needed to hear.

“Best tits I‘ve ever seen,” he mumbles as he pulls off her with a kiss to her areola, biting at her cleavage. 

Y/N’s fingers are desperately fumbling with his tie, tugging it loose and popping open a few buttons. Rhysand doesn’t give her the time or chance to open more than two before he’s shoving her tiny lace panties to the side and swirling his middle finger through her dripping folds.

Rhys groans at the feel of her; soft and warm, completely fucking drenched. The tip of his finger teases at her hole, swirling around her soaked folds but she wants more, needs it. He seems to sense her desperation because, without a second longer of anticipation, he pushes his finger in and massages at her squishy walls.

He splutters pathetically against her chest, his grip on her hip tightening as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of her dripping heat. 

“Oh shit, you’re so tight,” he groans, completely fucking mesmerised by the way her little pussy is clenching onto him. 

He wonders if his cock will even fit. She shudders breathlessly, thighs willing to clench shut but he doesn’t let them.

His fingers are much longer than hers; hitting deeper than she’s ever able to in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. Her head falls back and Rhysand latches his lips onto her neck, pulling out so his fingertip rests at her hole before he lunges back in with a second digit.

They’re twisting in a ‘come hither’ motion, pads of his fingertips massaging at her squishy spot and she’s quivering and trembling under his touch. Her clit feels like it’s on fire, angry and desperate from the neglect it’s facing so she sneaks a hand between their bodies, holding her weight on one arm as she leans back, and offers herself a pinch of relief.

It’s a filthy fucking sight for Rhys to be privy to; watching her little fingers rub deliciously at her soaked, swollen clit. He’s painfully hard but fuck, he wants to see her cum all over his hand before he releases his bloated cock. 

“Fuck, Rhysand… oh shit,” she’s gasping frantically, legs twitching and toes curling.

He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since someone last touched her this good. He’s only had his hands on her for a couple of minutes and he can feel how close she is to her tipping point, how badly she needs to explode. He wonders if he’s about to make her cum harder than she ever has before.

She’s getting loud, too vocal for them to get away with the quick rendezvous they’re playing at. It’s when he tests the waters and scissors his fingers before picking up his pace that she falls uncontrollable with the desperate cries and filthy whines. 

He has no other choice than to shove her until her back is pressed against the desk and he’s leaning over her trembling body to press a hand over her mouth.

Y/N’s muffled moans vibrate against his palm and he watches the delicious sight with a deep hunger in his eyes. His teeth are gritted, breaths and grunts seething between them at the sight of her tits bouncing across her chest. 

“Cum, gonna cum!” he hears her muffled voice beg into his hand, a smug grin tugging helplessly at the corners of his lips and he coaxes it out of her.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl? My good girl?” he spurs her on, eyes rolling at the sensation of her tiny pussy spasming around his thick fingers and fuck, he’s sure he’s about to cum in his pants over it.

Y/N thrashes against the table, chasing her high as he finger fucks her through it. The sounds are obscene; muffled pleas and filthy squelching noises that sound from her messy cunt.

He slows his pace and lets her calm from her orgasm, nosing through her chest and he smears his parted lips across her tits, his tongue sitting on his bottom lip as he does so. Rhysand suckles gently on her pearled nipple as he moves his hand from her mouth and she’s tangling her fingers in his hair, deep breaths causing her chest to ripple.

Y/N’s eyes are fluttering, dazed and overwhelmed and they both know her legs are still trembling in the after-shock. She’s still desperate, though – inhibitions out the window and she no longer wants to play coy or hard to get. She wants his cock and she wants it shoved so deep inside of her that she won’t be able to walk for weeks.

“Please,” she murmurs through half-lidded eyes. Rhys’ brows furrow gently as he pulls off her chest, licking his lips and trying to chase her wanton gaze. When he finally does, he notices just how flushed and fucked she is. He’s a little taken back, if he’s honest. He knows the effect he has on women in the bedroom, but none quite like this for a quick fingerbang in the copy room.

Rhysand reaches for her face, cupping her jaw in his palm and she finally meets his eyes. She’s blinking back rose-tinted hues of arousal to try and see him clearer, but even when her vision isn’t stained with lust, he still looks ravishing and it’s painful.

“Please, what, Miss Y/L/N?” he teases.

Rhysand’s got a sick grin on his face at the way her entire body shudders at his tone and choice of words. She’s a whimpering mess again but he’s barely got his hands on her – one on her hip and the other cupping her jaw. 

“Use your words,” he coaxes. Her lashes flutter angelically across her cheekbones and her lips blabber open and closed like a helpless fish out of water.

“Fuck, need you inside of me. Want your cock.” Y/N’s shuddering at her own choice of words. She’s always loved a bit of dirty talk but not once has it ever really come into play with past partners and if she’s honest, she feels way too shy and filthy. But she fucking loves it.

She loves the way he takes a deep breath – the way he growls to himself to try and fix his composure. She thinks he’s about to give into her, pound her raw and have her sobbing for more, baby, please, I need more! But what she gets is the complete opposite.

Rhysand’s lips hover over her ear, nosing at her neck on his way up before he’s nibbling his way across her jaw until his lips ghost hers.

“Not when you’re so fucked out, Princess. Let me come home with you tonight, back to your place. I’ll be your company,” he nips at her bottom lip, nosing at her jaw again and her head flutters back for a moment, eyes rolling. 

“My place? But my – my friend is there…” she trails off breathlessly, struggling to keep her grip on reality when Rhys begins to suck a bruise against her neck.

He pulls away with a sly grin, eyes hooded and dark and her lashes flutter as she drinks him in. He reaches forward and nips at her bottom lip again. “I know.”

//

She’s nervous as she climbs into his car. He insisted he drive them home and back to work tomorrow morning, which means he plans on staying the night and Y/N is not opposed to that in the slightest. 

But her nerves are getting the best of her when he reaches across the console and lets his hand rest on her thigh, squeezing generously and gnawing on his own bottom lip.

Her mind is working so hard on overdrive that she can’t even focus on one thing to worry about. Rhysand on the other hand, has one thing on his mind and one thing only. Her. 

Excitement is rushing through his veins and he’s sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Blood is rushing to his thick cock and all he can think about is her sweet pussy and how it’ll taste when he has her sitting on his face; the only seat she’ll ever want and need.

They make it to her townhouse in no time and she’s clambering out of the car before he has the chance to switch the engine off. He knows she’s just as nervous as she is excited but he doesn’t say anything on the matter – at least, not yet. 

He follows her up the steps to the door, arms shaking around her waist and he kisses across the exposed expanse of her neck, flicking his tongue over the fresh bruise that’s darkened as the day dwindled on.

Neither of them seem to care that it’s still partly daylight and wandering eyes are no doubt watching on with sickening glances and judgemental stares. Y/N struggles to unlock the front door, too busy trying not to roll her head back in pleasure and anticipation. She loosens up a little as he licks wet stripes up her neck, nibbling on the tender skin and the second the door is open, he’s pinning her against it as it slams shut behind them.

His mouth is on her neck, suckling and licking his way up to her jaw, nipping at the curved edge before he licks across the shell of her ear. “Gonna have you dripping on my cock and screaming in my mouth, Princess,” he promises. His tone is dirty, dark and raspy and Y/N’s thinks she’s ready to submit to absolutely anything he fucking wants.

She’s pathetic, really – nodding frantically – eager to please. She doesn’t make an effort to hurry them to her bedroom. She’s too caught in the moment Rhysand thinks he wants to have her friend catch her being fucked roughly against her front door, let him know she’s already being treated as good as it fucking gets.

“Please, Rhys. Need it so bad, please,” she blabbers wetly. 

He kisses her quickly; hot and sticky. Their tongues are dancing a frantic rhythm but their lips still manage to mould and fit like puzzle pieces. Rhysand’s hands are hot on her waist, trailing up her body until he cups beneath the swell of her pretty tits.

“Please, what? What do you need, my love?” he coaxes, suckling on her bottom lip and she’s got half a mind to push him to his knees and hike her thighs over his shoulders. But she doesn’t have the will power or the guts and she’d much rather him dominate the absolute shit out of her.

His demeaning tone has her shaking – nimble fingers trying to tug and claw at the expensive blazer of his suit. She doesn’t know if it excites or frustrates him, but it does spur him on to tear her pretty blouse open and rip her bra in two. 

He ignores her shriek of shock and latches his wet mouth to her tit, sucking her hardened nipple between his lips and rolling his tongue across it.

Y/N’s head rolls back and knocks against the front door, wanton whimpers and yelps shrieking from her throat. Rhysand spares no expense – he’s grunting and moaning, coursing vibrations and shrills through her body that has her pulsing core blazing. She feels like she’s on fire and Rhysand feels like a starving man that’s finally about to eat a three course meal.

First, he’ll make her cum with his fingers. Then with his cock. And for dessert, he’ll have her on his face while he laps up everything else she has to offer. But Rhys doesn’t take into consideration that maybe she wants to taste him, too.

“Need your cock in my mouth.”

The filthy admission takes him back and for a split second, he’s stunned. Rhys halts his attack on her chest and leans back to get a proper look at her. Y/N’s eyes are blazing a fiery red, one that screams need and touch. She’s fucked, utterly. Messy hair and smeared lip gloss across the lower half of her face.

His own eyes are hooded as he watches her very slowly slide down the door. Her knees are bending and he knows what’s coming, what she’s trying to do. Rhysand has half a mind to stop her, to remind her who’s in charge and that he just wants to taste her, to make her feel good. 

The other half tells him to tear out her hair band and hold her hair and head in place with his fist, tells him to let her stuff her mouth with his length by the front door and pray and hope her friend just so happens to be home.

Her shaky hands are unbuckling his belt, tugging down his zipper. Her knees hit the entrance carpet and she reaches back behind her to tug her hair completely loose from her elastic. Rhysand watches, chin meeting his chest, as she massages out the kinks before throwing it over her shoulder.

He can’t stop staring at her as she tugs his pants down just enough to palm over the thick and hard bulge in his boxers. He makes no effort to bite back a grunt and the soft whine that follows. Rhys’ eyes are on her but she’s got her gaze focussed on his clothed cock.

Y/N leans forward, nosing at his thick length. Her mouth is parted; bottom lip dragging a wet strip across the expensive, cotton material as she makes her way up for the little strip of thin hairs that dust down to his sweet spot. When she gets to the top of the elastic, her tongue slips from her mouth and a bold, wet stripe is licked fatly up to his bellybutton.

She feels him shudder, hands on the fronts of his thighs and they creep up to the waistband of his boxers. Rhysand’s got one hand tangled in her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp and the other is leaning against her front door, supporting his crushing weight up.

“Are you gonna take all of me, baby?” he coaxes. 

Spit begins to well in her mouth as she tugs his boxers down and she’s finally face to face with her boss’ thick, long cock. He’s massive, that much she’s certain of and the way his tip glistens an angry pink proves he’s just as eager as she is. She wonders if he’s been as hard since the copy room earlier today.

Rhysand’s tugging at her hair, trying to get her to focus on the situation at hand rather than ogling at his cock. He usually wouldn’t mind, but right now he’s far too desperate to be lodged down her warm throat to think about anything else. His cock twitches as it slaps at his lower abdomen, leaving damp trails of precum in his tip’s wake.

It’s standing tall when Y/N leans forward on her knees. She’s got her palms bracing her weight on his thick thighs and her tongue sits on her bottom lip, licking a bold and wide strip up the entire eight inches of his thick length. Rhysand’s grunting when her tongue swirls around his head before she’s suckling the soft flesh into her mouth.

Her cheeks are softly hollowed and gentle hums of approval sound around him at the salty taste that sits heady on her tongue. Her lips are stretched around his puffy head, the actual width of him nearly choking her but fuck, if she doesn’t love it with every ounce of her dirty little soul.

She’s got those innocent doe eyes staring up at him while she suckles on his length. Relaxing her throat to take him a little deeper, Y/N pumps in a firm fist what she can’t fit; twisting her wrist. 

Rhys can’t keep his fucking eyes off her – puffy lips swollen and stretched and if he sees another dribble of saliva drip from her lips and down the valley of her tits, he’s gonna cum straight down her throat.

“Fuck, such a good mouth. So fucking good, Princess,” he goads. 

He’s gnawing hard on his bottom lip, mouth salivating at the sight of his pretty little secretary on her knees with her mouth stuffed with his cock. Rhysand can’t help his ego from inflating when she lets him guide his hips until he hits the back of her throat, choking her lightly and she splutters around his length.

It’s filthy – the noises her mouth and his cock are making – but Rhysand’s living for it. Pools and dribbles of saliva and precum are spilling and bubbling from the corners of her mouth and the swells of her tits are soaked from it alone. She’s comfy on her knees now and takes her free hand from his thigh to tug his pants and boxers down further.

She’s picked up her pace, sucking harder and fisting the few inches she can’t take. Y/N’s hand snakes further down and reaches around a little until she’s cupping and massaging his aching balls, coaxing the release she knows he’s about to give her. His taste is getting saltier on her tongue and his hips are staggering with each gentle thrust he offers into her throat.

Rhys’ grip on her hair is hard and tight, knuckles bumping at her skull as he tries to drill her head closer to him, to force more of him down her throat. As much as she tries to relax herself, she can’t take him all and she wants nothing more than to bury her nose in the short hairs that lead from his bellybutton to his shaft.

“Such a good girl for me. Sucking me so fucking well, gonna cum,” he warns and praises the young woman and she comes off him with a frantic gasp. 

Her eyes are watering and his cock is soaked, but that doesn’t stop her from spitting the rest of his arousal on his length and pumping him as quickly as she can.

She’s got that confidence about her again as she focuses on his tip, fisting both hands around his throbbing cock as she smears her swollen lips across his sensitive head. She smacks it against her tongue, offering hollow sucks to guide him over the edge.

Rhys’ got his forehead resting against the door and he’s grunting and groaning, biting back animalistic moans. He can’t wrap his head around it, the most sloppy and incredible blowjob he’s ever had. 

“Wanna taste it. Cum, Rhysand,” she whines greedily, one hand leaving his cock to tear her blouse open just enough for her tits to spill out of it. “Cum all over my tits, baby.”

His orgasm washes over him with a heady grunt and hot spurts of white ribbons that smother her tits perfectly. She’s standing on her knees, using the tip of his aching cock as a paintbrush to smear his cum across her lustful chest. He’s smashing his head against the door, trying to blink away the orgasmic-bliss he’s been thrown in and take a grip of reality again.

When he finally looks down at her, stepping back a little from the door, he’s panting and twitching and she’s licking her lips clean. Y/N’s got that innocent sparkle sitting in her eyes again. Rhysand has to shake his head and let out an exasperated laugh. He’s smoothing down her tangled and matted hair and guiding her back to her feet.

“So fucking sexy,” he groans when he takes note of her cum-smothered tits. 

His lips are smearing against hers greedily, and there’s something so exciting and erotic about tasting himself on her sweet tongue. Her hands are soaked and sticky but she still tangles them in his hair to kiss him harder.

She’s too fucking horny to feel shy or embarrassed about what she’s just done against her front door. “Gonna fuck me now? Thought you promised me you’d fuck me with your cock?” she whispers tauntingly against his lips and he grins, still completely fucked out.

Even though he’s painfully hard again, he doesn’t have it in him to sheath himself in her tight little cunt just yet. He’s got stamina, but his poor cock can’t recover from a blinding orgasm like that too quickly. He nods, hands on her ass and he’s groping like a starved man. 

“And I will, Princess. But you got a taste of me, it’s only fair I get a taste of you, don’t you think?” he teases.

She’s putty in his hands, though – nodding breathlessly as her nose bumps his. She can feel his hard cock against her middle and he gives her pert ass a spank, enticing a high whine from her raw lips. 

“Suppose you better show me to your room then, my love… unless you want your friend to come and watch?” he offers, like he wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.

If Rhysand’s honest, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d gladly let her friend watch him absolutely ruin her tight cunt.

“Put your cock in your pants,” she breathes, the firm order doing nothing but coaxing dribbles of precum from his dick. He shoves himself back in his boxers but makes no attempt to button up his trousers while she covers her chest again.

Y/N’s got her hand in his as she leads him up the steps of her townhouse, hips swaying more than usual and Rhysand knows, but he’s too horny to tease her for it. All he can think about is having that ass sat on his face and he’s salivating at the thought of her taste.

He doesn’t take in the decor on the walls or the frilly rug on the floor of the hall. He doesn’t even take in the style of her bedroom when she shoves him inside and kicks the door closed. Rhysand, instead, is too busy tearing her blouse open and ignoring the buttons skidding across her oak floors.

She’s no better, eager to get him naked and claw at his tattooed chest. They’re both naked in seconds, hands all over the other in a desperate attempt to get off. She’s guiding him to her bed, tits in his face and he paws at her breasts as she straddles his lap. She expects him to pin her down, to devour her little cunt but he doesn’t.

He kisses her lips and grips her thighs – laying on his back with his head on her pillow and tugging her up his body and she starts to get the hint when she stops on his chest. Rhysand’s frowning, kneading at her thighs and jutting his chin in the air a little.

“Told you I wanted a taste, now come and sit on your throne, Princess.” She’s giddy with excitement and arousal, head cloudy and she lets him guide her up the rest of his body. 

Her entire pussy is slick and swollen when her knees rest either side of his head. He loops his arms around her legs and rests his hands on her ass, squeezing and massaging her cheeks.

“Fucking look at you, baby. So wet and so soft,” he coos, craning his head up to suck bruises on her thighs. Y/N’s got her fingers tangled in his messy dark locks and when he spreads her ass apart, she falls a little and her soaked cunt sits on his face.

Rhysand’s mouth wastes no time, sucking and licking and nibbling at her hole and clit. He’s swirling wet strokes through her folds, deep and long. Her sweet scent is heavy on his tongue and he’s got his eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss. Y/N is a mess above him – head thrown back and fingers tugging at his unruly locks.

“Oh my God,” she whines, breathing erratically but Rhysand’s having the time of his life. 

She shudders as he brings a hand down on her ass, her meaty flesh jiggling before he’s grabbing it again and pulling her apart and further up his face. He’s got a knot in his brow, tongue circling at her weeping hole and he can’t get enough of her taste.

“So good, so fucking good. Don’t stop,” she begs, desperate and eager. 

Rhys lets his tongue trail up the length of her pussy until the flatness of his tongue is rubbing at her swollen clit, enticing moan after filthy moan to slip from her silky tongue. He wraps his mouth around her little nub, sucking and nibbling and she’s seeing stars.

Y/N can’t seem to catch her breath and she’s rolling her hips on his face like she fucking owns him. Rhysand comes off her clit with a little pop, open-mouthed kisses smeared over her dripping cunt and he sucks a swollen lip into his mouth, biting teasingly and she gasps into the dim room.

Her nipples have puckered in the cool air and one hand leaves his head to tweak and pinch at one of the neglected nubs. She’s trembling on his face, thighs clenching around his head as he kneads and spanks at her ass. Rhysand’s grunting deliciously into her cunt, sending vibrations through the woman’s core and egging her on.

He knows she’s close, knew he wouldn’t have to be between her thighs for too long after she came so quickly from his fingers earlier in the copy room, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly spend hours devouring her. She’s sweet – sweeter than he hoped and expected – and it’s better than any feeling he’s ever had before. Sweet like watermelon with a tangy hint.

It’s fucking intoxicating and when she cums, it only tastes better. “I’m cuming, oh shit, oh God…” Y/N can’t think straight. 

Her vision is blinding by streaking light that blocks her sight and the wanton and borderline pornographic moans are music to Rhysand’s ears. She’s shaking, body jolting and when Rhys opens his eyes to watch her unravel on his tongue, all he sees is her head rolling back and the underswell of her tits bouncing before her back coils and she hunches into herself.

He’s lapping her of every single last drop she has, desperate to have her taste lingering on his tongue for as long as he possibly can. His cock is overly bloated and sticky as precum sticks to his lower abdomen but maybe his ego is even more bloated, knowing he didn’t even have to use his fingers to get her quivering and begging above him.

“Fuck,” she gasps in a slow drawl. 

Her voice is deep and raspy, like she’s seething as she tries to catch her breath and stop the shakes from taking over in her post-orgasmic state. Rhysand’s kitten licking her softly, moving his head to bite playfully at the thickness of her inner thighs and he traces over a soft, faded stretch mark with his tongue.

“Sweetest fucking pussy I‘ve ever tasted,” he groans in approval. 

Rhys maneuvers them both so she’s pressed against the mattress, and even in her fucked-out, overly-blissed state, she’s still whining and eager for his cock again. She’s insatiable and Rhysand can’t help the amused chuckle that slips from his lips.

“So fucking desperate, Princess,” he taunts.

He takes a moment to admire her, take her all in. Her pussy is swollen, soaked still and he can almost see her clit pulsing as her hole clenches. Her chest is rattling in deep breaths and her eyes are lidded heavily as she creeps her foot up his thigh, reaching for his hard cock.

He hums appreciatively, spreading her bent knees open and crawling between her legs again. He’s got a hand resting by her head to support his weight – the other gripping her chin in his hold and he forces her mouth open as he lets saliva well in his mouth.

She gets the hint, knows what he’s about to do and she’s desperate to get a taste of herself from him. Y/N’s tongue falls out flat on her bottom lip, eyes a little wider and she holds his firm gaze when he spits on her tongue and forces her mouth closed again. 

The sweetness of her arousal is heavy in her mouth and she swallows what he offered before her lips part again and her tongue is licking up at his stubbly chin, reaching for his lips.

Rhysand’s eyes are blazing, dick twitching against her thigh and he kisses her hard, teeth clashing and tongues dancing an uncoordinated rhythm, but it works. Y/N suckles on his tongue as he groans, pinching at her nipple before he reaches down to palm his cock some.

“Need to get a condom,” he breathes into her mouth but she’s shaking her head. He leaves his cock and reaches for her cunt, attending to her fiery clit that’s far too sensitive but she welcomes the touch, nonetheless. 

“Wanna feel you,” she admits, no shame in the embarrassingly desperate statement and Rhysand thinks he’s about to fucking explode on her cunt before he even gets a proper feel of it.

He wants to, needs to feel her slick and velvety walls hug and suck him in, wants to be consumed by her heat and arousal but even in his lust-filled state, his brain is still turned on. He shakes his head painfully. 

“Next time,” he offers, doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes light up at the insinuation but she nods with a desperate, laboured breath.

She reaches to her side for her nightstand, retrieving a foil packet from the top drawer and she rips it open with her teeth before Rhysand can take it from her. His eyes are wide when she tugs it from the packaging and reaches down for his cock. She pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it over his thick head, sliding it slick down his shaft and he’s grunting in pleasure over the act.

“Fuck. You’re so sexy,” he mutters gruffly against her lips and she whimpers, eyes rolling back at the sheer tone of his voice. Her legs are spread wide as he reaches for his cock and rubs himself up and down her folds a few times.

Y/N’s giddy with excitement, pussy clenching in anticipation and he slowly rolls his hips forward, his fat tip nudging through the tight entrance ring of her pussy and she shudders a gentle shriek at the obvious intrusion.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps out. 

Her chest is already heaving when he begins to sheath himself in, spreading her wide and drilling in deep. Y/N’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head and her toes have curled inwardly and just how much he’s filling her up.

Rhysand’s no better – teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut. His grip on her hips have his knuckles turning white but neither of them seem to mind the bruises that’ll be apparent in the morning. She’s tight around him, warm and slick and even with the condom, he can feel every pulse her pussy offers.

Rhys rolls his hips slowly, getting her used to his thick girth and generous length. Y/N’s clawing at his shoulders with each soft whine until his pace begins to pick up and the bed starts to rock. Her tits are bouncing on her chest, nipples hard and desperate for a good sucking.

He manoeuvres his body to lean his head down, biting on her hard nub and sucking. “Shit, you’re so fucking big, oh my God,” she praises through a strangled moan. He’s snapping his hips, grunting and smirking against her slobbery tits. 

His tongue is flicking over her nipple in quick strokes as his teeth bite softly but she’s keening at the blissful shoots of pain.

“Tight pussy, baby. Tightest fucking pussy I‘ve ever had.” He pops off her breast and smears his lips against hers. 

She can still taste him on her tongue and the feel of his lips on hers is overwhelming. His thick cock is brushing against all the good spots and she can’t wrap her head around how sex could ever feel this good.

“Faster, please, faster. Just like that,” she begs out through another broken moan. He’s seething through gritted teeth as he wills back his animalistic grunts, drills his hips in quicker thrusts and the wet squelches of his cock and her pussy is music to both of their ears.

“Hear that? Hear how fucking wet you are?” he teases, leaning back and shuffling until he’s on his knees between her quaking thighs. “Fuck, you fit me so fucking good, Princess.” He’s gnawing down on his bottom lip, likely drawing blood but he can’t bring himself to care.

Y/N’s got her head thrown back in her pillows, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her lashes flutter like angel wings. “This cunt was fucking made for me,” he growls through gritted teeth as he releases his lower lip. She’s nodding helplessly at his words, crying out in pure ecstasy at the filth he’s talking and she fucking loves it.

“All yours, Rhys. Pussy’s all yours,” she agrees quickly. 

Her voice is broken, high pitched and whiney. Rhysand thinks it’s borderline pornographic and it only makes his cock throb in her cunt. “Fuck,” he seethes, watching the way her full breasts bounce on her chest.

He lets his gaze avert to where they meet – where his thick cock is drilling into her cunt and fucking her into the mattress. He’s completely slick with every thrust that has his dick pulling out of her. His balls are slapping against her ass, slick with her wetness that leaks from her tight hole and even both their thighs are growing sticky from her arousal and their sweat.

Between them, they’re eager messes, desperate for a hot release and it’s haunting the both of them. Rhysand can feel her cunt clench tenderly around him and Y/N can feel his cock twitching between her soft walls. 

“Fuck, can feel you squeezing me baby, making you feel good, Princess?” He knows he’s making her feel fucking heavenly but the narcassist in him needs to hear that bit of praise.

She’s nodding frantically, eager to give him what he wants to hear. “Yes, fuck, yes! So good, Rhys. I love your cock, makes me feel so fucking full.” She’s moaning through every word, sentence broken by wanton cries and pornographic whines. She’s fucking filthy, dribble running down the corners of her lips as she speaks.

Rhysand’s fucked, can feel his release toppling close to the edge but he needs to feel her cum around him first. “Yeah? You like me buried in your tight little cunt, my love? Like feeling me in your fucking tummy?” He sets a firm palm across her stomach, adding just enough pressure to feel himself nudge at her lower abdomen and his head is spinning.

“More, please. I’m gonna fucking cum, Rhys. Make me cum on your cock, make me cum, please.” She’s begging through desperate tears and Rhysand’s ego is through the fucking roof. His eyes are rolling back at the sound of her broken pleads and he leans closer.

He’s got one hand holding his weight by her head, the other locking around her throat. He watches for a moment, still pounding into her, to see if she tells him to stop, tells him she doesn’t like that. But she reaches up and tightens his hold on her throat and her other hand snakes between them to rub feverishly at her swollen clit.

“Harder,” she demands, voice steady and dark and there’s a primal instinct that washes over Rhysand that tells him to fucking obliterate her. He’s choking her as his cock tears into her, weeping in the condom and Y/N’s sobbing beneath him.

Her thighs begin to tremble, eyes rolled right back and she feels like she’s floating. “I’m cuming! Rhys, I’m gonna cum!” Her body convulses under his touch and waves of bliss roll over her. She’s cumming around his cock, shaking and sobbing and whining like a dirty little girl and Rhysand’s living for it.

He fucks her through her state of bliss, grip still tight on her throat until he feels her calm down and he’s ready to explode. Even in her blissed out state, Y/N knows what she wants. She suckles on his thumb as he grips her jaw and takes her spare hand to push him back just enough to pull his cock out of her cunt.

With hooded eyes and swollen lips, she peels off the condom and tosses it to the side. Rhysand’s eyes are blown wide, brows knitted and even in her hazy state she can see how desperate his cock is for a relief.

He’s hissing when she wraps a hand around his wet length and lazily starts pumping his shaft. “If you can’t come in my pussy, I want your cum all over it.” His head falls back at the admission, cock twitching in her hand and it only takes a few futile pumps before she’s smearing his tip across her swollen clit and he’s cumming.

Hot ribbons of clear-ish cum paint her cunt, spilling across her folds and clit in desperate spurts. “Fuck, oh shit. So good, such a good fucking girl,” he’s praising in broken moans and wanton whines.

Y/N’s pussy clenches around nothing as she watches his thick cock slowly soften to one of a slightly smaller size. They’re both fucked out as Rhysand catches his breath and falls to her side, panting and heaving with a sweaty and heavy chest.

She can barely keep her eyes open, thighs still trembling from her post-orgasmic state and Rhysand’s trying to come to terms with what just happened. He’s too infatuated to scold himself for fucking a damn employee. For fucking his secretary.

He can hear her heavy breathing from beside her and he peeks a look, watching her eyes flutter as she stares up at her ceiling. He holds his breath in hopes of hearing any movement on the other side of the bedroom door but all he can hear is his heart hammering through his body.

He takes a heaving breath and looks back up at the ceiling. “You think your friend might’ve heard us?” He speaks up, breaking the silence. He hears her breath stagger and silence before she lets out an uneven sigh and he can feel her chest shaking.

Rhysand turns to her with pinched brows and she’s grinning with eyes squinted shut. “What? What are you laughing at?” She’s giggling again and Rhys sits up to get a better look at her. She’s thoroughly fucked out.

“I don’t have a friend staying with me,” she admits shyly through a broken laugh and it takes Rhysand a hot second to grasp onto what she’s just said. When he does, his eyes widen and jaw falls slack, smirk tugging on the corners of his parted lips.

Y/N turns to him, running a hand through his matted hair and she gnaws on her bottom lip, staring into his fucked out eyes. “Just wanted to try and get you in my bed,” she confesses.

They’re both grinning; Y/N letting out a squealed shriek as Rhysand pounces on top of her and pins her hands above her head, nosing and biting at her jaw and neck. His eyes are gleaming nothing but mischief as his nose knocks hers and he notices the fire in her eyes.

He nips at her lips. “You lied to me? To get me in your bed like I‘m some sort of cheap hooker?” He’s teasing her now and the banter has her stomach flipping. Y/N shrugs, feigning nonchalance, eyes blazing and she licks into his mouth. 

“Worked though, didn’t it?”

Rhysand pulls away from her lips just enough to see the look on her face. She’s shy under his gaze, innocent eyes staring up at him but there’s still that flash of filth and cheekiness that’s loitering behind them and when she gnaws on her bottom lip, Rhysand can’t help but feel completely fucked.

“You little minx.”

let me know what you thought!!

[machine-saint]

the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong

why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).

anyway the tl;dr here is:

you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates

i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.

this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.

as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.

there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.

the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.

there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.

temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about

programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.

'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.

your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[curseddollfaye]

I'm wonderinggggg....could you write something where Suguru breaks up with his s/o and realises it was a mistake? Like how do you think he would try to win her over again?

“I wish you roses while you can still smell them”

ex boyfriend! suguru x reader

✩ listened to ‘I wish you roses’ by miss kali uchis while writing this :) pt 2?? hehehe , oh and if it wasn’t obvious. ANGST ALERT!✩

masterlist

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ੈ✩‧·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· *ੈ✩‧₊˚

You always swore ever since you were a teenager that you would never let a man make you cry. You would never sit and cry in front of a man. You practically cursed the idea of that ever happening to you. Images of your mother crying because of your father made their way into your head. How she loved him so much, and yet he still left. You remembered wondering how could a love like this turn so sour? Why are you bared the responsibility of witnessing a dying love?

Nothing could have prepared you for happiness to be given to you, and have it snatched from your fingers before you had a say.

Because truth be told, the way Suguru broke up with you, was the day clouds stormed the sky. Your shared room that he no longer slept in felt colder and darker. You had closed your eyes that night extra tight, gripping the pillow that he slept on. Wondering if you wanted to burn it to a crisp

Or maybe hold it close to your nose so the scent of him never goes away.

“Im sorry Y/N…I just…I don’t know if I feel the same way anymore”

Heartache wasn’t even the word for it. 4 years down the drain. With a stupid explanation that made no sense. The man that claimed to love you so much for the last four fucking years couldn’t even give you a decent reason? You were left to wonder if it was you.

4 years ago you would’ve punched yourself for even thinking that. Why is it that in the movies or book you’ve read the woman always thinks it’s their fault?

But the feeling isn’t realized until it happens to you. Insecurities, questions without answers. You swore you hated Suguru Getou. You hated him for leaving little things around your previously shared apartment that reminded you of him. His Marlboro red pack cigarettes, his dumb cologne lingered in the air, and you didn’t know if it scared you or relieved you when you no longer could smell it from how long it had been.

Suguru Getou was the first man to ever make you feel like you were less than. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose. Maybe it was the way he softly spoke to you even when he was breaking your heart. Holding his favorite snacks in a connivence store plastic bag. The contents of it dropping (dramatic yes, but true).

So what exactly do you do when said ex boyfriend shows up at your front door at 2 am on a Friday night? Your silk nightgown slipping past your shoulders. The slight breeze making you blink even more tiredly. Wanting to crawl back to bed and sleep. It’s been a lot of sleepless nights due to work. It wasn’t easy being a nail tech, you are usually booked months in advanced. So that means your days are always planned around around that. At least on the weekdays.

“Suguru?” You rub the sleep out of your eyes. Your door had been merely cracked open. You lived alone now, who knows what creep could be lurking around.

“Hey, I’m sorry…fuck I’m sorry baby I-“ Suguru’s voice sighed. Your eyes finally landed on him as you fully awoken.

He looked as good as ever. Not that you weren’t really shocked. It had only been 6 months since he broke up with you, 3 since you had last seen him. Since he came to pick up the last of his things. Which ended up in you coldly acknowledging him and retreating back to your room with a loud slam. You had made it quite clear that you wanted nothing to do with it.

He looked…tired? Which wasn’t that unusual for him after working or a long day. But 2 am on a Friday was a whole new level. His hair was held back in a hair tie. The black gauges in his ears didn’t look like the ones you had seen last. Making note to yourself that even now you could remember even the smallest details of the tall man standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here Suguru?” You snap at him. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Suguru offers you a weak smile. He knows he has no right to be knocking on your door.

“Im just…I don’t know” He said truthfully. Which led you to even more confusion. You didn’t want to play these games. You had been over it for 3 months now. You couldn’t wouldn’t let him ruin your progress.

You sighed, you were just tired.

“That doesn’t really help me with figuring out why you’re here…”

“I know, I know okay. I know I shouldn’t be here YN. I know I have no right to come here asking for any sort of time but I just need you to hear me out”

He doesn’t miss the sour and angry look on your face. Suguru is used to it by now, all your friends throw him the same look when they see him. It was the last look he remembers on your face. The one before that was angst and solemn. All because of him, and he has to keep reminding himself so.

“To hell with you. I’ve spent the last fucking 6 months feeling sorry for myself for a man that didn’t give a fuck about me in the end.” Even cussing him out you looked so beautiful. Your hair tied up holding your arms as the chill made its way in through t your opened door. Suguru swears- no, he knows he remembers every beauty mark, every blemish, and every birth mark on your body. Something he will probably never see again thanks to himself. Even angry you looked ethereal. Suguru would worship you given the chance again.

He wasn’t counting his luck though….

“Are you even listening to me?” You ask in disbelief. “Unbelievable, go home. You’re drunk probably” Your hand grabbed your doorknob tightly and quickly made it shut it. However a boot came to stop it. You felt anger course through your body now more than ever. Is this how it was going to be?

“Just..please”

“Is that all you can say to me? Please? Sorry? I shouldn’t be here? I told you the last time we talked that I wanted nothing to do with you, isn’t that what you wanted?” hurt crossed his features. For a moment you felt bad. But you quickly were to shrug the feeling off.

Why should you feel bad? You didn’t break his heart, you weren’t prancing around a new girlfriend four months after the breakup. You have to keep strong is what you keep reminding yourself. Over and over again. Crying for you nowhere.

Crying never made Suguru Getou come back. It never made him feel pity to you and be a man to apologize for his wrongdoings. He did you so dirty so why did it hurt seeing him so fragile?

Where was the empathy for you?

“That’s not true!” His voice boomed your quiet apartment.

“It might as well be!”

“Today’s was supposed to be our 5 year anniversary…”

You scoff. “Yeahhh I think it’s time for you to go”

“I had something I bought um, before everything” Suguru moves his left hand to move some stray pieces of hair that hung over his face. “I wanted to give it to you, it’s the least I can do. Plus, it’s something that you really wanted and I can’t…” Suguru pauses. Looking at you as if he’s studying you. Like he needs to, he knows you like the back of his hand and you were aware of that.

You look back at him. Feeling your emotions rush your body.

please don’t cry YN…don’t cry , don’t cry, don’t cry

“Listen…” You look up. Already feeling your eyes burn. God damnit.

I want to hate you Suguru Getou , damn you.

“I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, maybe you get off to watching me cry or something. But I need you to leave me alone please.” A whimper escapes your throat. You look around, anywhere but at him. To try and at least keep some of your dignity.

“You’ve done so much to me”

Suguru shifts, his hands in his pockets. You couldn’t see but he himself was holding on to tears. He had no right to cry in front of you. Not after the way he hurt you. “Im sorry..”

“I don’t need your sorry!” You yell at him. Yanking the door open and hearing it slam against the wall. “I don’t need anything from you Suguru Getou! Not after what you did, not after the way you stand there looking at me as if you love me so damn much. Like you used to, when I know and you know that it’s all a fabricated lie! You’ve been here for five minutes and I still don’t know what motivated you to come back here after 6 fucking months, but you know what? Truth is maybe I never really knew you. So maybe I cried for no damn reason. I cried over a stranger!”

“I never lied to you, when I told you I loved you I meant that shit so don’t say I didn’t”

You laugh bitterly. “What about when you said you didn’t?”

He didn’t have an answer for that one.

“Goodnight Suguru. I hope you find whatever the fuck it is you’re looking for.” You said more gently. You don’t know why. You just hated the way he still made you feel.

Because you didn’t hate Suguru Getou.

You loved him with every fiber of your being, and yet that still wasn’t enough for him.

The door closes softly, a click and a lock follow. This time he doesn’t stop you.

This time Suguru hang his head low and lets out a shaky breath.

His hand digging into his pocket to clutch what was meant for you.

A ring.

[dearestgojo]

It's Always The Quiet Ones

Boss Gojo x Secretary Fem Reader

A/n: In celebration of last night i finally finished this.

Warnings: 18+. Virginity Loss. Virgin reader. Dubcon. Cunninglus. Oral m & f receiving. Thigh riding. Facesitting. Pussy job. Handjob. Mating press. Full nelson. Creampies. Mirror Sex. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. Nipple play. Oral fixation. Anal play. Fingering. Tit job. Slight name-calling. Facefucking.

Wc:  5.5k | JJK Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"You could loosen up a little," Satoru murmurs into your neck, large hands roaming your sides to your hips, pulling you down to the edge of the couch, "You're tense."

Of course, you are. Never in a million years did you think you'd been in this situation with Satoru Gojo, the man every woman in the office whispered about, the man rumored to be a playboy, and who ignored the lust-filled looks of the women around him. You'd been told from your very first day to steer clear of him, and you had for almost four months until you somehow caught his eye and became his secretary out of nowhere. The sudden change of position raised rumors among your peers even though nothing had happened, the gossip only growing when they found out that he had requested for you to fill in the once-empty post.  

The whispers didn't bother you, there was nothing to hide, and you had never talked to him apart from a few official meetings, document drop-offs, or the occasional office bump-in. And it wasn't like you talked much with anyone in the office, so why would it bother you when you kept to yourself? But now you're starting to think that while you might have not gained the position through ulterior motives your boss had done all of this with this exact goal.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you gasp when his lips wrap around one of your nipples, tongue swirling around it before he nibbles on it. Your back arches off the cushion, legs trembling around his waist, "Your my boss...we cou-ld get fired."

You are unsure if he hears you as he keeps himself busy, gently sucking on your breast, free hand tweaking your other bud, before switching and doing the same thing. The cold air of his penthouse hits your damp breast, and you feel your perked nipple harden as you stare up at the ceiling, your nails digging into Satoru's bicep and shoulder.

"No one has to find out as long as neither of us talks," he finally replies, coming up to look at you, a translucent string of spit that shines against the low light of the lamp connecting his lips to your breasts, "unless you truly want us to stop."

His blue eyes have darkened with lust, and you can feel heat spread across your face as he stares down at you waiting for your response, but his hot hand pressed to your skin and his thumbs drawing circular figures on your sides, make it difficult to think straight. The insides of your thighs burn, a somewhat unfamiliar feeling, while your heart races and your brain reasons why this is a bad idea. 

One, Satoru was your boss, and this could end badly for both of you. Two, you weren't sure if he was just using you for an easy lay. Three, you still had a stack of papers on your coffee table that needed to be done by tomorrow. And finally, you've never done anything like this with anyone.

"I don't know," you gasp, feeling him grind down on you once, the friction on your clit has your eyes fluttering shut and your breath growing heavier. 

Even with your eyes closed you can see Satoru's grin, his fingers dig deeper into your side, "You don't know what?" His breath brushes over the column of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin, hand slipping under the waistband of your pants, "Do you not want this?" His fingers slip further down, finger gliding down your slit, teasing your clit, peering up at your expression through his white lashes. 

Your eyes move behind your closed lids, your mouth forming a small 'o' as you feel him touch you through your panties. Satoru takes in the small whines and gasps that slip past your lips, smiling as he dunks down to nibble on your breast, rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your eyes fly open when you feel his fingers dip under the band, touching your folds directly, withering beneath him, shaking your head.

"I don't know," you hide your face behind your hands, "I-I've never done this."

Satoru's fingers pause, a low hum vibrating against your skin, and he murmurs, "No wonder." Without warning he plunges a single finger into your warmth, attaching his lips to the underside of your boob, the strangled whine that falls from your slips making his ears perk up. Your body arches off the couch, his fingers much thicker than your own, reaching that one spot deep inside of you, the fire ignited in you spreading across your body as he slowly thrust his finger. The vibrations of his voice makes you burn even hotter when he speaks against you, licking the sweat underneath your breast, "Still, you didn't answer. Do you want me to stop?"

You look down at the top of his head and watch it move as he licks the curve of your breast, slowly licking a strip back up to your nipple. His finger curves upwards, brushing against your sponge spot that has you trembling, feeling completely new. Your voice is hoarse when you answer, hands flying up to grip his white locks, "No, don't stop please!"

"Good girl," he grins, switching to your other nipple, and adding a second finger inside you. Satoru's lips attach themselves back to your breast sucking harder than he had earlier, catching the hardened bud between his teeth, the sound quickly filling the room. His fingers make come hither motions while slowly moving in and out of your heat, your thighs trembling around his hand.

"R-right there," you whine, taking in a deep breath.

You feel Satoru's free hand travel up your side, it pauses its ascension to flick your free nipple once, before continuing the rest of the way to the curve of your lips. Two fingers pull your bottom lip down, carefully prying your lips apart. You give him and open your mouth, two of his large fingers entering, hitting the back of your throat. You instinctively start to suck on them, moaning around them when the two fingers in your cunt speed up, the heel of Satoru's hand rubbing your clit.

"Fuck," Satoru groans feeling your cunt clench around his fingers while you coat the other two with your spit, "You sure you've never done this?"  He pulls his fingers out of your lips, trailing them down to your chest, leaving a wet trail behind.

You shake your head, whining as he curls his fingers up, "N-no. This the first time." Your legs shake around his hand, and your ears start to ring, "I'm gonna cum,"

"Yeah?" he wriggles his fingers, using his legs to spread you out further on the couch, watching as your split open by him, "Then cum all over my fingers. Make a mess."

Your body curves off the couch, your thighs squeezing around Satoru's as he presses down on your stomach with his free hand, fingers spread across your torso. Your ears ring for a long time, the world around you going white, heat enveloping you as you tremble beneath him. 

Satoru's fingers don't stop, he keeps thrusting them in and out, hitting the spongey spot inside you over and over. He relishes the way your cunt sucks his fingers in, covering them in slick as he pushes you over your limit. Making sure that he graves himself in your mind, that no one can ever make you feel like he is ever again. Ensuring that you come back to him in the future.

Your eyes start to refocus, the muscles of your thighs spasming, lips ajar gasping for air. Satoru gently pulls his fingers out of your pussy, bringing them to his mouth while he watches your breasts fall and rise. He moans as the taste of your juices settles on his tongue, sweet and savory, bringing his eyes to meet your hazed ones. 

"You taste so good," he groans, pulling his fingers out of his mouth, "I'll get a good taste of your cunt in a bit, but I need your help with this for now."

His hand comes down to grab onto yours, bringing it down to the large bulge in his pants, a large hand forcing your smaller one to grasp it. You swallow down, Satoru guiding your hand up and down, holding back his moans. You look up at him, gulping as you feel his thickness in the palm of your hand, "I don't think it'll fit."

Grinning at you Satoru brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the tips of your fingers, taking the middle one between his lips. You whine when he starts sucking on it, gently biting into it, pulling your finger out with a plop, he seductively grins down, leaning down over you, "We'll make it fit." 

He sits back up, tugging his pants down, freeing his hard cock from its confinements. Grabbing your hand, he pulls it back to him, encouraging you to wrap your hand around his hot cock, cursing under his breath when he feels the soft skin of your palm on him. He guides your hand with the first few strokes, low moans slipping past his lips, eyes becoming hooded. 

"Twist your hand a little as you go down, and you're going to want to rub your thumb here," he points to the mushroom head, "or here," he adds, holding onto your wrist while nudging your thumb toward the slit, hissing when you slide the side of it over it. "Yeah just like that," he pants, falling back between his shoulders, hips subtly moving into your hand. 

You slide your hand down his shaft, slowly twisting your hand, feeling him hot in your palm. Slick coating the inside of your thighs as you watch him twitch in your hold, the inside of your mouth watering as the pink hand turns into a flushed red, precum leaking out. The sound of his moans and praises have you clenching around nothing, your hips rolling up, desperate for some stimulation. 

Satoru looks down at you, tongue poking out from between his teeth, "Look at you, turning into a needy whore so quickly? Do you want my cock that bad?" His voice breaks, your thumb massaging the mushroom head, "F-fuck, don't worry I'll pretty my dick in that pretty pussy of yours. I'll stretch you out so good you'll never find anyone who can make you feel like I do. I'll mold your pretty little hole to the shape of my cock. You like that, yeah?" He leans over you, forehead pressed to yours, shallowly thrusting into your hand, swallowing heavily.

Your hand squeezes around his cock, whimpers leaving your throat when you feel the head brushing against your stomach. His hips rutting into your hand while he whines and moans above you, his eyes looking directly into yours. His breaths mixing with yours.

"Shit, I'm going to cum," he gasps, one of his hands coming down to pull your hand off, sighing when you release him, " It's too soon for that, though." His chest is rising and falling, rabidly, the highs of his cheekbones dusted in light pink. 

He pulls away from you to pull his pants the rest of the way down, tossing them somewhere in the room, and tugging his shirt off. His pale white skin slowly becomes more exposed, there are a few freckles spread across his torso, dotted here and there, and a mole right above his collarbone. When he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his arms, you notice the small dots that curve over his shoulders.

You mindlessly reach forward and connect the lowest speck, that's right above his hip, to the next, and the next, getting closer to his upper body where they're heavier in density. Satoru's muscles flex under your finger, his eyes following its path. You expect him to tease you, but he stays silent, letting you connect the small dots. He stops your hand when you reach his breastbone, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the knuckles, sticking his tongue out to lick between the fingers and the palm of your hand, pressing a small kiss to the center. 

"You're making me feel a little guilty about this. Like I'm taking advantage of you when you look at me like that," he murmurs, shifting his weight so his thighs rest on either side of your hips, "but not guilty enough to stop." Satoru leans over you, soft lips clashing into yours a moment later.

Your mouth welcomes the kiss, opening to let his tongue slide in, your tongue tangling with his. Small gasps tumble past your lips as his hands travel along the sides of your body, coming up to knead your breasts. It's a kiss filled with hunger, teeth clashing against one another, and heavy breaths that become one. You find your lips chasing after his when he separates your lips.

"Getting needy aren't we?" he asked, moving up your torso, your breast still in his grasp, his tongue poking out from between his lips. You're forced to lay on your back as Satoru staddles your stomach, pinching your nipples between his index and forefinger, smirking as you look at him confused. "Just relax," he says stroking his length before resting in the valley of your breasts.

You wriggle beneath as his hot cock touches your skin, saliva flooding the inside of your mouth, your chest rising and falling. A gasp escapes you as he kneads your boobs, pushing them together. "This feels a little weird," you huff, swallowing as you feel his hips start to move the head of his cock peaking out from the top with every thrust. 

Satoru groans, cursing under his breath, "Don't worry about it. Just lay back for a bit." He shifts his weight again, his hips pressed firmly against the underside of your boobs, his thighs squeezing around your ribs, his length rubbing between them. 

All you can do is watch as he slides between your tits, heat burning on the high of your cheeks. The sound of his heavy groans and breathing bounces off the walls of the living room, his balls softly patting against your skin. His weight feels heavy on top of you, hands softly kneading your breasts while moving his hips, he feels hot between them, precum dripping out coating your chest. He suddenly leans further down, letting go of one of your mounds while reaching over your head for one of your pillows.  "Lift your head," he orders out of breath, sweat dripping down his forehead. You do as he says, lifting your head enough for him to slide the pillow beneath your head, "Now be a girl and stick out your tongue."

The tips of your ears burn as you follow his directions sticking your tongue out, a grin spreading across Satoru's face, "Good girl."

His hips start to move again, your breasts pushed together, his thumbs pressing down on your nipples. The head of his cock brushes against the tip of your tongue, the taste of the precum spreading along your tastebuds. Satoru a moan comes out from the back of his throat, his heavy breathing filling up the living room. Your legs move to bend while you lift your head, more of his cock slipping into your mouth, a shaky moan leaving his lips as he feels your mouth wrap around the tip, "Careful with the teeth," he mumbles.

You attempt to move your head, feeling the lips stretch as his girth fills your mouth. Flattening your tongue, you slide it along the vein that runs underneath the shaft, Satoru shutters above you, hands squeezing your breasts.

"F-fuck, keep doing that pretty girl," he moans, hips suddenly rutting in between your boobs. 

The room starts to fill up with the soft sounds of his balls hitting the skin of your breasts and the squelching of the head of cock gliding in and out of your mouth. You breathe in through your nose, unsure of what else to do other than peer up at him while tracing the vein, your fingers gripping the cushion beneath you. 

With a moan Satoru lets go of your tits, shuffling further up your chest, forcing you to take more of his cock into your mouth. You gag around him, throat constricting as the head hits the back of it. Satoru whimpers, drool seeping out the corners of his lips.

"You look even cuter with my cock down your throat," he huffs out, shallowly thrusting into your mouth. 

Satoru's pubic hairs tickle your nose with every thrust, his large hands gripping the pillow under your head. His thigh muscles spasm as he twitches your mouth. The corners of your eyes sting with tears as he continues to hit the back of your throat, gagging noises echoing in your small apartment. You hollow your cheeks as he ruts into your mouth, the loud moan he lets out ringing in your ears. 

He's out of breath when he speaks, one of his hands coming down to caress your cheek, thumb massaging the corner of your lips, "I'm g-gonna cum." His eyes are half closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his cock twitching in your lips. His white hair sticks to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples as his thrusts start to falter. The coil in the pit of his belly snapped suddenly.

He pulls out of your lips quickly, his hand leaving your cheek to help him through his release. Sticky cum falls onto your face, and you gasp in surprise as the hot substance lands on your skin. Satoru moans above you, thrusting into his hand while he coats his face with his semen, his other hand grasping tightly onto the pillow. 

Satoru is gasping for air as he comes down from his high, chest heaving and fingers massaging his shaft as he empties himself fully, small drops of cum falling onto your chest. His weight leaves your body, free hand coming down to gather the cum on the corner of your lips, using his thumb to push it in. Satoru grins down at you when you open your mouth to suckle on his thumb, licking the cum off before he retreats back to his spot from earlier. Not wasting a moment before he has you in his hold again.

He lifts you off and plops down on the couch, his thigh between yours. "You're really good with your mouth, you sure you're a virgin?" he asks, grinning up at you, pulling you down onto his thigh, forcing you to roll your hips on the rough material. 

You squirm in his hold, whimpering, "Y-yes. Too much," all while your hips roll against the taunt muscle.

His eyes gleam as he hears you, he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, large hands guiding you, "Just returning the favor." He can feel your swollen clit sliding against his skin, pulsing with need, and the wet trail of your juices left behind, "It's always the quiet ones that are the neediest in the end." The hold on your hips tightens, and Satoru's leg starts to gently bounce you on his thigh while reattaching his lips to your puffy nipples. 

He alternates between bouncing you on the center of his thigh and guiding you on rolling your hips, thumb flicking your clit every so often. He slowly builds your orgasm, feeling you clench and soak his skin, waiting for the expression that lets him know you're about to climax. His blue eyes dance with glee as he waits for that moment, watching your eyebrows draw together and your mouth start to slacken before he pulls you off him, your pussy fluttering around nothing.

You're left whining and complaining as he falls back on your cushion, pulling you with him. "Why'd you stop? I was close," you pout, not even noticing how high up he drags you to up his body until it's too late to complain. 

Your legs are spread on either side of his head, white hair peeking out beneath you, fingers spreading your lower lips apart. One of his hands is kneading the inside of your thigh, one of his long fingers experimentally sliding down your slit, collecting the slick that pours out. "You want me this bad, hug?" Your face feels hot when you hear him sniff loudly out your folds, "For how long I wonder?"

As embarrassment shoots up your spine, you try to wiggle out of his hold, "I-um- you don't have to do this. I'm going to end up squishing you if we stay like this."

But his arms quickly come out from under you to wrap around your hips, pulling you down to his lips, blue eyes staring up at you when he licks on long stripe up your slit. "Not going to happen, princess. You're not getting out of this that easily."

You open your mouth to suggest a different position, one where your preferably sit somewhere other than his face, but as soon as you open your lips he's devouring your cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his lips wrap around your clit, sucking at the swollen nub before he slurps at your entrance. The bridge of his nose rubbing your clit.

The noise bounces off the walls of your living room and out through the window, along with the frantic moans you let out as you attempt to collect yourself. But the lapping of Satoru's tongue proves too much for your brain, already fuzzy and lost in the feeling of a man eating you out like you were the last meal set before him. 

You're sure the neighbors can hear you. That they can hear the obscene slurping sounds that Satoru's lips make against your cunt. That they can smell the scent of sex seeping through the thin walls of the apartment complex. If you weren't so lost in the feeling of the burning feeling building up in the pit of your belly you'd be mortified that they know what you're doing right now. 

A loud gasp escapes from your puffy lips as two of Gojo's fingers join his tongue and his hand on your hips pulls you down further down on his face. "Feeling good?" he asks, voice muffled.

You try to form words, try to put together a sentence as you stare at the blurry lamp in front of you. Your entire body feels as if it's been set ablaze, sweat traveling down your temples and the space between your breasts, the salty liquid mixing with Satoru's leftover spit and cum. Some of the mixture makes it to your mouth. How are you supposed to think clearly when he's overwhelming every one of your senses?

The only thing you can do is let out a sound that falls somewhere between the word 'yes' and a pornographic moan. Drool comes out the corners of your mouth as you start to become cross-eyed. Your hand shoots down to grasp onto Satoru's hair when his lips wrap around your clit and his fingers curve.

Satoru makes sure to commit to memory the sounds you're letting out and the way your pussy is clenching and spasming around his fingers. How you taste distinctly sweet, and the smell your pretty little pussy. He takes pride in the fact that your neighbors can probably hear how good he's making you feel. That the perverted old man he saw eyeing you when you were opening the door earlier now knows you belong to someone. That you belong to Satoru. 

But he wants to make sure he gets the message loud and clear.

He removes his lips from your cunt with a soft pop, looking up at you, "Cum for me pretty girl. Let everyone in this building know your boss is making you feel this good."

You shake your head, the walls of your cunt fluttering around his fingers, and you huff out, "N-no, that's embarrassing."

Satoru grins beneath you, his fingers moving quickly and the heels of his palm hitting your clit, "Come on, pretty girl, you're so close. Just let go."

The sensation of his fingers moving in and out quickly is too much for you, and you cum on his command, a fact that boosts his ego. You tremble above him, unfiltered moans and whimpers filling up the room. The taste of your juices falls on Satoru's tongue as he helps you through it the white-numbing orgasm.

You don't know how much time passes but when you return to, Satoru is laying on your chest with a tit between his lips. One of his large hands cups the breast that isn't occupying his mouth, tweaking its hardened bud between his fingers. His hips rutting against you. Your senses slowly return to you.

When you feel something hot and hard move between your folds, you let out a loud gasp, and Satoru's sea-blue eyes look up at you. His lips curve upward still wrapped around your perked-up bud, catching it between his teeth and tugging it up. The surprised moan you let out tickles his ears, his hips rolling between your legs as your back arches off the couch cushions. 

"Lost you there for a second," he groans, looking down at you as the head of his cock bumps against your swollen clit, eyes watery.

You try to respond, but the back of your throat feels scratchy and dry. Only a hoarse moan falls from between your lips, and you peer down between your bodies to watch Satoru's cock glide between your soaked folds.

His length is heavy and hot pressed against you, spreading your lower lips around its girth. Your slick coats it more and more with every thrust, and you can feel your clit pulsing every time the head bumps against it. Satoru takes note of this and pauses to slap the head on it, relishing the way your squirm when he does. Enjoying the noise you make when the tip teases your entrance, barely pushing in, your wet walls fluttering.

He laughs from the back of his throat as he looks down at the wide-eyed look you are giving him, hands scrambling down to push against his hips. Bending over your body, he rests his forehead against yours, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His blue eyes are lust-blown, red dusts his cheeks and nose, and his voice is on the edge of needy, "Can I put in? Please let me make you feel good, pretty girl. Will you let me do that?" The head of his cock breaches your entrance a little, your response still caught in the back of your throat. 

Heat floods your senses, and your body arches up into his as he just barely pushes into you. Swallowly thrusting into you as he waits for your full permission to finally sink into your warmth. You peer up at him with watery eyes, jaw slack as you feel the stretch of just the tip, your head moving before the words leave your lips. 

You're painfully aware that this all might be just another conquest for him. You're just another notch to add to his likely long list, "Yes, please, fuck me," you whimper, your voice strained and the entirety of your being burning.

Satoru grins down at you, eyes shining in the light, reconnecting your lips. His large hand comes down to your thighs, caressing the expanse of it before dipping between them to toy with your clit while he pushes into you. His girth stretches you, and you expect pain but feel just feel an uncomfortableness settle over your belly. You let out a whimper as his hips settle against yours while he gasps and clenches the cushion beneath your head, his jaw tensing up and eyes fluttering closed.

"F-fuck, so warm and tight," he sighs out, spit coming out the corners of his lips. He looks down at you with a dewy-eyed lustful expression, his shoulders slackening, and rolls his hips into you once. 

You feel full. Your entrance stretched to lengths you didn't think were possible, the feeling has your eyesight unfocused and your body burning, insides churning in a way that has shivers traveling up your spine with the glide of his shaft in and out of you, thick veins brushing against your walls. Satoru's hips start to move more feverishly against yours, warm breath brushing against your skin, mixing with the puffs of hair you let out. Everything is starting to feel unfocused the more this pelvis bone brushes against your clit.

He suddenly pushes your legs up against your stomach, almost bringing your ankles to your ears, feeling even much deeper than he had a moment prior. The back of your thighs sting at the forced stretch of your muscles, but the way the head of his cock keeps brushing against a newfound spot deep within you has you forgetting all about it. The glide of his thick cock in and out of your gushing pussy has your brain turned to mush, the feeling utterly new and overwhelming, unadulterated pleasure now replacing uncomfortableness. 

Satoru's length twitches inside of you as your walls convulse. Warm wet slick coating him, leaving a white frothiness behind as he thrusts into with fever. The sight of your juices coating his length has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, knowing that he's the only man to have seen you like this thus far. The only one who would see the fucked out look you were making right now makes his chest swell.

Pressing his hips fully into yours, rutting his hips against yours, he groans out, "Fuck, pretty girl you look so ethereal right now. A fucking goddess." His fingers come down between your bodies to pinch your clit, "Are you going to cum for me again?" 

You nod, gurgled sounds leaving your lips as you try to respond, walls clenching around him. He grins down at you, kissing the corner of your lips.

"Good girl," he mutters, quickly pulling his wet cock out of you, pulling you up, and manhandling you until your back is pressed to his chest. He lays back on the couch with your legs hooked over his arms, one hand repositioning his cock at your entrance. You both let out moans as he pushes back in, his legs bending on your too-small couch. 

If you tilt your head to the side you can see your reflection on the tv. Your make has run down your cheeks and your hair is sticking your face, legs spread open facing away from the tv, something you're thankful for, you don't think you'd be able to take watching your pussy get split open like that. You can see Satoru's thigh muscles flex as he starts to thrust up into you, your breast swaying with the movement. 

The sound of skin slapping skin fills up the room quickly, the front of Satoru's thighs colliding with the back of yours. You can hear your pussy squelching over your wails and Satoru's grunts, sounds that quickly get muffled when Satoru stuffs two fingers into your mouth. 

"Quiet ones also end up being the loudest," he mutters into your ear, voice strained as his cock twitches in you, his own orgasm upon him. His thrust increase in force, the couch creaking under the weight of you, "Come on my cock, pretty angel. Cream all over it."

A few more thrusts and the low grunt of his command are all it takes to push you over the edge. Your body convulses in his hold, the back of your eyes going completely white for the second time. The chants of Satoru's name were muffled by his fingers. You watch yourself climax in the tv, tears staining the highs of your cheeks and eyes crossing. Warmth travels up your spine, spreading throughout your entire body.

Satoru follows close behind, his hips stilling against yours as his warm seed fills you up to the brim. Some of it seeps out the corners dripping down onto your once unstained couch. 

The two of your breaths are even as you slowly come down from your highs. You still feel dizzy from your orgasm when Satoru pulls out, drawing a whine from you that makes him laugh, sitting up with you still in his lap.

"Where's your room?" He asks, standing up on unstable legs, though more stable than yours. You point to the hallway, and yelp when he scoops you up bridal style and carries you in the direction you pointed, "Alrighty then, let's get you cleaned up." 

You feel flustered naked in his arms as if you hadn't just cummed all over his cock and your couch mere moments ago, "You don't have to do that."

Satoru looks at you and smiles a bit, "Course I do. Otherwise, it'd be even more awkward at work tomorrow," your heart sinks a bit, but you remain silent as Satoru continues his sentence, "We need to talk things out about what we are before then also. I'm getting a little tired of the old men at the office wanting to eye fuck my secretary when she belongs in my bed."

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[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate part 5

Cazriel x f!Reader 

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (epilogue)

Summary: Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Warnings: angst, illness, discussions of death, smut, minors dni

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/N: a short one, but I wanted to update this! It’s not over yet, I promise

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Cassian shot back at her. 

Azriel watched as the bond snapped. Counted the seconds it took her to reply. Fifty six. Less than a minute for his heart to crush. Maybe it was his fault, for assuming it might fix everything. Still, an angry and dangerous hurt filled him. The type of hurt that would make him reckless, that would make him say and do things he’d regret, so he left. Left her and Cassian in some kind of stand off. Did it make him a coward? To turn his back and walk away? Maybe, but it was the safe option. The option to cause the least harm. 

The weight of the last several months settled on him. 

You deserve it. 

Maybe she had a point. Even if he didn’t regret the things he’d done in the past, it had to balance out somewhere. Why would he deserve anything good? 

Azriel sought out Rhys, he couldn’t handle Cassian right now, but he needed an outlet. Some way to get all of his anger and hurt out. His brother didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, but stayed in the ring with him until they were both covered with sweat and filled with exhaustion. 

It didn’t work. 

-

Mates. Mates. Mates. The obnoxious voice in the back of her mind repeated. She wouldn’t lie to herself, they were telling the truth. Everything made sense, looking back in time. The pull she felt to them, beyond the bounds of friendship. They’d be the reason she tore all of her hair out, this entire damned thing was a mess. 

Could fate throw a wrench in plans she hadn’t actually made? She should consider herself blessed to find two mates, but she never imagined herself mated this young. Not before her first century. They probably didn’t either. 

Her mind drifted to the state of their world, of the impending conflicts constantly around the corner. Could she forgive herself if she ignored them? Ignored herself? Only to have it ripped away unexpectedly. 

It was not the time to make a decision. A few weeks passed, and they all made careful circles around each other. Back to ignoring, thrown back to the past, and it was miserable. She was miserable. This wasn’t the past she wanted to be thrown into. 

Azriel had turned his back. Azriel walked away. Again, like a gods-damned coward. Cassian left after she kicked him out. If she accepted the bond, is this what waited for her? Constant fights, turning their backs on each other, always falling out and making up, only for everything to crash down again. 

Deep in herself, she knew she couldn’t go centuries without them, but she wasn’t sure she could handle centuries of that. Miserable with them, or without them. 

-

It started with a barely noticeable shake in her hand, followed by increased headaches. Not often, but more than usual. It didn’t impair her life, not significantly, but it was enough to bring her to Madja.

The healer looked … contemplative, and worried. She knew it would be bad news, at this point she was just waiting to hear how bad. 

“I need to look into it more.” 

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. A few weeks passed, and it was all she could think about. Even pushing thoughts of the mating bond aside. She’d given up on bugging Madja, who said she’d call her if she had any news. Finally, she received a letter, a summons with little detail, and burst out of the library as fast as she could, winnowing as soon as she cleared the wards. 

“What is it?” She didn’t bother with a pleasant greeting, especially when she saw the look on her face. After working alongside her for a few years, she knew that one, and her heart dropped to her stomach. “What is it?” She repeated, lower this time. Madja motioned for her to sit, she obeyed, and the female took a chair across from her. 

“It’s killing you.” At least she didn’t mince her words. 

“Any more details?” 

“It could be three years, it could be three hundred, could be a thousand.” 

“Right,” she swallowed, tilting her head towards the ceiling, willing the tears away. 

“We’ll find ways to manage it, I have more contacts to reach out to.” Madja continued, gently. 

“Manage,” she repeated faintly. 

“Have you told your mates about it?” 

She winced, taking a breath to center herself. “We’re not on speaking terms.” 

Madja clicked her tongue, “it could be three years, it could be three hundred, maybe a thousand. Do you want to live the rest of your life ignoring them? Is your grudge worth it?”

No. It wasn’t. She didn’t need to say it, Madja read the look on her face, returning it with one of approval. 

Tonight. She would do it tonight, before she ran out of time. Walking back to the Townhouse, she thought of how she would do it. First step would be to get the two of them alone. Then … maybe just tell them she’s ready. She didn’t bother going back to the library, there was no way she could focus. Not now. 

-

“What if we’re not ready?” 

Each word sliced into her, carving her heart open for them to see. Her eyes shuttered closed, taking a few moments to trap the tears behind, to will them away. 

All she could manage was a stiff nod, before making a quick exit - nearly at a sprint, if she’s being honest. She made it all the way out of the townhouse, winnowing down to the sidra, to a secluded spot near the river, before she broke. 

Knees hit the pavement, gravel embedding in her skin, her hands cradling her head as tears flowed, leaving a salty taste on her lips. 

“Thought I might find you here.” 

Amren. For fucks sake. Out of everyone to find comfort in, Amren was at the bottom of her list, not that she wanted comfort or company. Right now, she wanted to wallow in herself. 

A small, but surprisingly strong hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her back to her feet. Silver eyes looked at her with a mix of distaste and pity.

“What?”

Those eyes narrowed in warning, but she didn’t care. Nothing could hurt now, not as she let numbness take over, and let herself slip into that void without feeling, the inbetween state where nothing mattered. 

“You’re all idiots.” 

A broken laugh left her, one hand rubbing her forehead. She could’ve sworn Amren’s blood red lips curved at the corners, however briefly. 

“Do you have any good advice?” 

Amren ignored the sneaky barb, tilting her head to assess her. As always, it felt like she was stripping her bare, somehow staring into the dark depths of her soul. “The three of you need to drag your heads out of your asses.” She scowled, that wasn’t much better. “What exactly did he say?” 

“What if we’re not ready?” she quoted. 

“It was a question, then.” 

“Not the way he said it.” 

“You make too many assumptions,” Amren clicked her tongue, finger running across her ruby necklace. Giant, almost gaudy, gems. But, the ancient creature managed to pull them off. 

-

Azriel was conned into picking up a tonic for Mor, who was currently acting like a child over her cough, but he didn’t mind doing it - not really. 

He startled when he scented her there. After the conversation a few days ago, a question Cassian meant rhetorically, she’d disappeared before they could follow her, and had been a virtual ghost the last few days. They were ready, had been ready, but resentment still lingered. 

Respecting her privacy would be the smart thing to do, but bits of her conversation with Madja snuck through, and his shadows investigated. They’d been restless. Wherever she retreated to, they couldn’t find her. 

“I heard back from my friend in Dawn, she said she’d be willing to take a look, but she’s not sure she’ll find anything I couldn’t.” Madja sounded a bit disappointed. To look at what? 

“It’s worth a shot.” 

“Have you told them?” 

“I did. They’re not,” her voice cracked, “ready.” 

“Have you told them about your … condition?” 

“No. I won’t, they’ll probably think I’m guilting them into it.” 

“It’s not going away,” Madja said, maybe a tad harshly. Azriel had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about. “As far as we know, we’re not going to cure it, this is about management.” 

“You’ve already said that,” your voice was dead, flat. “It would be nice to have a timeline.” 

“Like I told you before, it could be three years or three hundred. We’re in uncharted territory.” 

Azriel couldn’t handle it anymore, couldn’t handle being this close to you without speaking, and strode for the door, knuckles rapping against the wood. 

Madja swung it open, raising her brows. 

“Came to pick something up for Mor,” he said, but his eyes darted behind her - where you sat, head buried between your hands, forearms propped on your knees. 

“I think you need to talk,” Madja said, and slipped past him, leaving them alone. She didn’t look up, keeping her hands shielding her face. 

Slowly, he crossed, stopping to kneel in front of her, peeling her hands away. Eyes wide, brimming with tears slowly escaping, she asked “how much did you hear?” 

“Enough.” 

She tried to force a smile, and it failed miserably. Shock and realization set in as he looked at her, as he tried to read the swirling emotions on her face. He’d have to watch her die. Three years, three hundred, a thousand. Eternity didn’t feel like enough time with you. He’d be haunted by the knowledge that some day he’d lose his mate. As a result of all of their actions. Of something so fucking preventable, if all could’ve swallowed their pride. 

She deserves someone better. Someone who hadn’t fucked everything up. Maybe it made him a bad person, a selfish asshole, but she was his. His mate, the person destined for him - sent by the Mother, the Cauldron, Fate, or whatever. Azriel wouldn’t let go of her, wouldn’t let her slip through his fingers again. 

Cassian needed to know, but they needed to figure out a way to tell him without him slipping into a pit of misery and self loathing. 

“Might as well tell him now,” she read his expression, the unsaid words in his eyes. For once, she didn’t protest as he helped her up, tugging her to his chest and winnowing to the Townhouse.

-

Cassian took one look at her expression, at the tear stained cheeks, at the grave look on Azriel’s face and knew something was wrong. Something beyond whatever happened earlier. 

Poison. Side effects. No cure. Years or centuries. He didn’t let his eyes leave you as you explained, as tears streamed down your face - Azriel filling in the words where he could, admitting he overheard their conversation picking something up for Mor. 

Beautiful eyes stared at him as you finished, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He’d never been great with words, so he stood, grabbing her and pulling her into a tight hug. Squeezing until she said she couldn’t breathe, and then only loosening enough for her to not suffocate, not willing to let her go yet. 

“Madja’s contacting someone in Dawn,” he said, still holding on to you, “there’s still a chance.” 

“A better chance at management,” she said into his chest. Cassian didn’t want to believe it. Between all of them, with Rhys and Madja and whoever else they could get in contact with, they’d find something. He needed to cling to that hope, to hold onto it as tight as he could. If he didn’t, he’d fall deep, deep down somewhere he didn’t know he could drag himself out of. 

-

“You’ve hurt me, both of you. Turned your backs on me more times than I care to count. How do I push past that? How do I forget it? How do I trust you won’t do it again?” 

It felt like she was asking for an answer, begging for some kind of reassurance, an example that would soothe that feeling and hurt. 

“You don’t,” Cassian said. She frowned at him. “You let us prove it to you.”

“You still have nightmares, right?” She tensed, as if she wanted to avoid the question, and wanted to lie about it. Azriel raised one brow, shoulder swirling around his neck. She couldn’t lie to him, even if he tried to tell them to quit spying, they still kept an eye on her. 

A muscle in her jax flexed. “Right.” 

“Stay the night with us. Let us help.” Azriel didn’t phase it as a question. He needed to help. Every instinct roared at him to get her closer, to protect her from any threats - visible or not.

“You can come on your own feet, or over my shoulder,” Cassian threw a grin her way. 

She chuckled, shoulders relaxing at the old threat - one used several times by Cassian. “I can handle walking down the hall. If I have a nightmare, I’ll come.” 

“Save yourself the walk.” 

They had one of their standoffs, each of them crossing their arms - almost in sync. Azriel pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. It was so normal. It gave him hope they could build back what they had before everything went to hell. 

She might accept the bond, but Azriel was smarter than to think that would fix everything. The trust they had, it might take years to build back up again. A challenge would be good for them. Sure, it might suck, it might be difficult, but he didn’t doubt they’d come out closer because of it. 

-

“If you don’t relax, you’ll never sleep.” 

“I’m perfectly relaxed,” she snipped back. It wasn’t completely true, actually it was mostly a lie. Something about sharing their bed now, with what she knew, felt different. 

“Liar,” Azriel countered. At least she could always count on him to call her out. 

Cassian ran a hand up her thigh, stopping where her night dress ended. It was a particularly short one. The first one she could grab before he showed up in her room. She’d intended to walk there on her own, but he’d come to throw her over his shoulder anyway, a playful gesture as she laughed and half heartedly hit the space above his wings. 

“Need a little … help loosening up?” 

Gods, his mouth was so close to her ear, lips almost brushing over, breath caressing her neck. She tensed for another reason. Azriel’s fingers tilted her jaw up. Hazel eyes searched hers. Do you want this?

Did she? Fuck, she really did. Yes. 

A nod, not directed at her, and Cassian’s hand drifted, fingers dragging up the hem of the silky fabric, exposing more of her skin. 

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, Azriel’s finger tugged it free, brushing over it. His knuckles ran over her jaw, Cassian’s hand made its way up. She didn’t know where to focus, not as Azriel leaned in to place a kiss at the corner of her mouth, as Cassian gripped her leg, tugging it back over her hips, dress pushed up to her hips. Exposed. Exposed and nothing worn underneath it. 

She heard them swallow at the same time, vaguely seeing Azriel’s throat bob in the moonlight. 

Being touched by them was safe. This was safe, she emphasized to her mind, not giving it a chance to take over her thoughts, refusing to let it cloud her senses.

Cassian was teasing, fingers drifting around the outsides, never actually touching her where she wanted to. Azriel traced her cheekbones, jaw, collarbone, around the curve of her breasts. 

“This is not relaxing,” she said through gritted teeth, pushing back against Cassian for emphasis. He let out a short breath, gripping her thigh instead. A low whine left her. Now he was too far. He laughed, and her cheeks flushed. “Are you going to make me beg?” 

“Not this time,” he said, just as Azriel’s hand crept under her dress, pushing back up to pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Two of Cassian’s fingers ran up her folds. 

Gods, this was heaven. Why hadn’t they done this sooner? His fingers swirled around her clit, Az palming her breast now, switching back and forth between the two of them. How had she gone so long without this? 

Swirling, pinching, flicking, pressing, the sensations spreading across her body mixed into one. Just one state of pleasure, of confusion and overdrive. She wiggled, arched her back, let out moans she didn’t have time to think about. Her thighs clenched as one finger slipped inside of her. Who’s was it? She didn’t know, didn’t care, as long as it never left. 

“Good,” Cassian murmured, “let go for us sweetheart.” 

You did. You screamed - loud enough a hand clamped over your mouth, one of them laughing. 

Slowly, the one finger left her, and she missed it. Didn’t quite like the empty feeling left behind. But, she was distracted as the hand - it must’ve been Cassian then, crossed over her … to Azriel. 

He met her eyes as he wrapped his lips around it, tasting her. Fuck. Just one hit, one taste, and she was in over her head. 

“I want to … to you-” she babbled, words nearly nonsensical. 

Cassian laughed behind her, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Another time.” 

She pouted. Fucking pouted. Gods they’d really turned her into a mess. 

“We promise,” Azriel pushed some of the hair back from her face. 

“Feeling relaxed now?” Cass asked. 

If she said no, would they do it again? 

“If you lie, I'll know.” 

Fine. “I’m relaxed.” 

“Good, now sleep,” Cassian rested his hand on her stomach. Too appropriate of a place. 

“How am I supposed to sleep after that?” 

“Close your eyes, think sleepy thoughts. She elbowed him. He had some of the worst advice. He countered by pushing her towards Azriel. The male didn’t hesitate to roll her to her other side, now curving his body around hers, holding her tight enough she couldn’t escape if she wanted to. “I regret that,” Cassian muttered, but shifted closer, arm draping over her to rest on Azriel. 

The three of them, curled up together, just how it should be. Fate designed it this way, the Mother put the three of them together for a reason. No matter how limited, she’d take whatever she could get. 

taglist:  @infinitely-kate, @foreverrandomwritings, @anuttellaa, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @justasillylittlegoofyguy, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @bookishdeer, @sidthedollface2, @mis-lil-red, @acourtofbatboydreams, @blessthepizzaman, @hallucynatiing, @summerloversposts, @i-am-infinite, @fanfiction-for-my-soul, @brandywineeeee, @oktievia, @inloveallthetime let me know if you'd like to be added! sorry it didn't let me tag everyone!

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt 1 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2.6k] [part 2] [part 3 ] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

notes: I've had this idea on my mind for months but I had no idea how to execute it at all. also instead of using the y/n insert, I gave the character a name even though it is read from your pov. It just made it easier to write lmao

"ms carter?"

your heart dropped at the sound of your name being called by an unfamiliar voice, which was something you were going to have to get used to. nonetheless, you turned around to see an older man approaching you with a warm smile and something in his hand.

when he got close enough he put out his hand and you politely shook it as a greeting, still not sure who you were talking to. before you could speak up however, you were interrupted by something being put in your hand.

"this is your staff id," the older man said and you took a closer look at the lanyard in your hand. the picture you had taken less than a few weeks ago was set neatly inside with your name, and position.

carter, jaime

[public relations manager- social media and marketing department]

public relations manager. those three words were enough to make you feel light headed.

you liked to think that your employment on liverpool fc's marketing team was nothing but pure luck. from the moment you handed in your resume for your university final year internship out of pure whim, then to you getting accepted for whatever reason until you got the email no less than a month after graduation asking you to come in for an interview.

all that lead up to the moment you were currently in. standing in the middle of the empty anfield stadium that you had visited for nearly every home game since you were a child. it was nothing but pure luck.

you were broken out of your daze by the older man chuckling about something, which showed that you hadn't heard a single word he said during the past five minutes. you mustered up a smile regardless to play it off and proceeded to follow him for what you thought was a building tour.

"I just realised that I never properly introduced myself," he laughed dryly and gestured for you to step into the tunnel before him. "I'm billy hogan- chief executive officer and I'm ever so sorry for being in a rush right now but I'd like you to be at the training center within the next 30 minutes."

your eyes widened in shock, your feet absentmindedly picking up its pace while hogan continued to speed through the building tour, leaving no room for questions but you decided to make a mental note to ask someone else when you got the chance.

you were escorted to the black s.u.v along with hogan immediately, running through the hundreds of questions you had at the moment. you know you only had room for one though before he was on another phone call.

"uhm sir-"

"yes ms carter?" the older man addressed without trailing his gaze from his cellphone screen or the pile of documents in front of him.

oh gosh.

you managed to clear your throat. "I'm not too sure why I'll be needed at the training center. shouldn't I be in the office or..."

when he heard you start to trail off, hogan shut the folder in his lap and turned to look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. there was a moment of awkward silence that passed between the two of you in the backseat of the s.u.v, the driver not paying any mind to the conversation.

"our last marketing manager had to be fired because we found out that he was leaking information out to reporters and news broadcasters along with four other employees."

oh shit.

you shuffled in your seat as you tried to think of a response to the news but whenever you parted your lips to say something hogan would raise his finger as a sign that he wasn't done talking. so you swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth along with any comments and listened intently.

did it sound like he was targeting you and bordelined threatening you? yes, yes it did. but you were sure he meant well and was only trying to bring his point across.

"we're low on staff and that's why you were handed two very crucial roles and are expected to make up for the losses. you'll be working alongside the team as you read in the contract," he began once again with a knowing look which made your stomach drop.

because you didn't read the contract. not fully at least. your older sister was the one who urged you to sign it the second it was sent to your house. hell, it could've stated that you were required to donate an organ and you wouldn't have known all because your were too excited and didn't spare anything a second glance.

"but why didn't you just promote people that were already in the department instead of giving me the position straight away?"

hogan let out a dry chuckle and tended to his phone once again, not looking back at you. "because nobody else wanted the position. it's dangerous up there ms carter. so you may feel important right now, but if you can't handle the workload and expectations it's going to get messy."

well this is news to me.

to sum up hogan's lecture and recital of the contract off by heart, you were in fact set up to be working alongside the team as a higher ranking media representative because there needed to be more field work done. no pun intended.

but the fact that nobody else was up for the position didn't sit right with you.

"just make sure they look good for the camera and keep everyone entertained. you're an influencer yourself, so I'm entrusting you to keep everything in order. you were hired because you are young and are in the game already. so keep yourself level-headed and do your best."

no pressure I guess??

deciding to wear sneakers instead of heels today was by the far the best decision you've made in weeks. the weather in liverpool during september was nothing short of horrid. when you stepped out of the car your face was immediately hit with the harsh and crisp air that reminded you why you spent majority of your time indoors.

"welcome to our axa training center," hogan gestured to the building in front of you, it's ceiling to floor windows having you gawking in awe. "this is where you'll be spending a good amount of your time, but it's not as bad as it seems I promise."

what's so bad about watching a bunch of professional football players train half naked?

unlike your last building tour, hogan actually took his time showing you around this time. from the lobby, breakroom, staff rooms, gym and finally to the field where the team was out practicing-- or at least that's what you thought was happening judging by all the screaming.

the second you stepped foot out onto the field, klopp turned to look at you with a welcoming smile.

did he just sense my presence??

you felt frozen in your spot, the world had practically stopped spinning the second he called you and hogan over. when you made it over he halted his conversation with the person beside him to shake your hand.

"it's lovely to finally meet you ms carter," the team's manager politely greeted and it took every single nerve in your body for you to not do something stupid.

you bashfully laughed and brushed his comment off, "if anything, the pleasure is mine. I am extremely honoured to be working in this position."

after a few moments of getting to know each other and klopp giving you a bit of an idea of what he expected media-wise, you realised that you had work cut out for you, judging by klopp saying, "think of this as your second family. the team needs something different, and you ms carter, are exactly the home improvement that we need."

you felt like the weight of the world had just been put on your shoulders again, and his tone of utter sincerity wasn't making it any less pressurising. of course you wanted to do well and give your all into this role but it was going to take a bit of time getting used to.

I should have read that damn contract.

"would you like to meet the team?" klopp asked with a smile and lightly patted your shoulder.

the gesture alone was enough to render you speechless, and you weren't quite sure if you heard him correctly. "would I like to do what?"

"boys!"

your eyes widened in shock as he called the team over. you didn't know what to do or say, your fight or flight mode had nearly been activated and you swore you were about to sprint out of the training center, all the way back home.

you anxiously fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what to do with your hands as you watched the group of soccer players head your way with little to no care to which klopp gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "don't worry, they won't bite."

you mustered up an awkward laugh, muttering under your breath as you mentally prepared yourself for the moment. you obviously hadn't met any of them before, the closest you had gotten was going to the stadium to watch their matches.

the closest you had gotten to any interaction with any professional soccer player in general however, would be at the beginning of the year when jude bellingham followed you back on Instagram. which was still the best day of your life up to date.

you were awestruck, words unable to form as they all huddled up in front of you. you could see the sweat beading on their foreheads which caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

"boys this is ms jaime carter." klopp gestured to you and you managed a small wave, trying to ignore the sound of your heart beating in your ears. "she'll be working with us from now on, as manager of the pr manager for both the marketing and social media departments."

you were greeted with a choir of 'hello's' and listened to klopp give everyone the run-down and a little enlightenment into the situation regarding the last bundle of staff that had to be cut off so abruptly.

"pfft, snitches."

you head turned to look in the direction of the comment, that was immediately reprimanded.

"curtis," klopp started and the soccer player pursed his lips apologetically.

"sorry boss."

"aren't you a little too young to be the manager of two departments?"

your eyebrows raised at the question from harvey. klopp and hogan had to attend to a last minute call from the clubs directors so you were left with the team to "get to know each other", but most of them got back to training which left you with harvey, curtis and trent.

you shifted your weight to your right leg, your head tilting to the side challengingly as you eyed the boy. "well you're younger than i am and playing professional football. what does me being a pr manager make any difference?"

trent and curtis couldn't help but snicker at your counter, jokingly mocking their younger teammate until he got visibly irritated.

"you can't deny us the right to laugh at you," trent said jokingly and kicked the ball to harvey, who passed it to cutis again.

their banter went on for a few minutes as you watched the ball pass between the three of them until harvey spoke up again.

"you're straight out of university though so--"

his sentence was cut off by someone yelling, "ball!", to which you all instinctively looked up only to realise a little to late that it was headed in your direction.

shit.

you backed away just in time to get the ball before it hit the ground. the second it came into contact with your foot, you sent it back virgil's way to which he gave you a smile.

a familiar feeling stired up in your stomach after, but you pushed it aside and for back to your train of thought. "and you're straight out of high-school. so i rest my case."

a moment of silence took over, trent and curtis both shifting their gazes from you and all the way over to virgil who was over at the goal post.

harvey was taking the moment to recollect your high school comment. it was because he was short wasn't it? that's all people had to throw at him these days.

it was trent's turn to speak up, his eyebrows raised while curtis muttered to himself about the distance or something like that. "have you played before?"

before you could answer, your name was being called by hogan since it was time to get back to the office building. you huffed out a breath and sent the three boys a smile.

"looks like today's 'q and a' was cut short." you took a few steps back, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your puffer jacket. "you might as well stock them up for next time. I'll be more than happy to feed your curious minds."

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Part 1

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie. 

Chapter Summary: You are sick of seeing Steve striking out, so you come up with a solution that could work for both of you.

5.5k words

Tags: Eddie Muson x reader, weirdo!reader, bestfriend!Steve

You hadn’t planned on becoming friends with Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington. In your mind, he was still that cocky freshman who happened to be good at playing Basketball during your senior year of high school. You’d never paid much attention to sports or the popular crowd back at Hawkins High, but word had quickly spread about the new kid. 

When Steve and Robin approached you to help hook them up with a job at Family Video you were skeptical at first. Robin was a no-brainer when it came to hiring. She had the experience and clearly knew her stuff when it came to movies. Steve you were more on the fence about, as he seemed less cinematically inclined but Robin had vouched for him, and you were tired of having to cover so many of Keith’s shifts. Even when he was here, Keith was basically useless, always hiding in the back. 

At this point, you were desperate for any sort of help, so you hired them both. 

You quickly took a liking to them- they were easy to hang out with and were able to quickly pick up on what needed to be done. Robin always knew what movies to show on the preview televisions, and Steve was quick to pick up on any busy work that needed to get done. 

“I’m always willing to go the extra mile to slack off.” he’d said once, which had earned your approval. As long as shit got done, they could slack off all they wanted. You hated that ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ bullshit. It’s not like the job was especially hard either. 

Eventually you and Steve started talking on the nights where the two of you would close together alone. Tuesday and Wednesday nights were good for that sort of thing, they were your slowest days. You learned that he was floundering a bit after high school, struggling to find a place in the world now that he was no longer King Steve. It was also clear by the way he talked that he was still hung up on his ex Nancy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. 

That was probably the reason why he kept striking out when flirting with customers. It was actually kind of sad. 

“You know, I really should probably tell you to stop hitting on every cute girl that walks through that door.” you said, taking out some tapes from the VHS re-winder and putting in new ones. “People come here for movies, not to be hit on.”

It was a speech you’d given at least a dozen times over the past four months. You’d said it so many times that Steve was mouthing along the words as you said them, and you gave his arm a smack. Your heart wasn’t in it though, in truth you knew that at least half of the young women who came to Family Video were here to see Steve and flirt, which is why you were so baffled that he was striking out so hard. 

He was good with customers, great even. When he first started working here he would get several numbers slipped to him between returned VHS tapes. But as the Summer months shifted into Autumn, he seemed to be running out of steam. 

“I can’t help it if I’m naturally charming.” Steve said, with over-compensated confidence. “I don’t even need to think, I’m just that good at flirting.”

“Yeah, I think your charisma stat has taken a hit over these past few weeks dude.” you snorted.

“I still don’t know what that means.” Steve said. “But I have plenty of charisma!”

“You know, if you actually paid attention to what me or your children said every once in a while you’d understand us better.” You couldn’t help but laugh. Over the past few months, so many freshman had come in just to bother Steve while he was working. “How is the single mom life by the way? Am I giving you enough hours to pay the bills? Do the kids need new shoes for school?”

“I’m not the mom, I’m the babysitter.” Steve shot back, before realizing how lame that actually was then he sighed. “I think they’re doing okay. Henderson’s the only one who actively keeps up with me.”

You didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in his voice. “It’s hard when they grow up.” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they won’t put you in a home.”

Steve snorted and brushed your hand off. “Says the one older than me.” he rolled his eyes. 

“See, I don’t have six kids to raise, so I’m going to stay young and fun forever, Harrington.” you teased. “You’ve got a full brood to look after. Oh look, I think I see a gray hair right there!” 

You reached over to touch his hair and he swatted you away again. “Like hell there is!” he said, mild panic in his voice. You didn’t let up and kept reaching for his hair and he kept pushing you off. 

“Yup, that’s a gray one, you’re about to go full Doc Brown on me before the end of the year!” You declare as he attempted to push you off. 

Despite him trying to push you off, there was a smile on his face. A lot of nights ended like this with you annoying him and teasing him for his relationship with so many kids. It was endearing really. 

The door to the front of the store rang and you two immediately jumped apart as a girl came in, looking to be about Steve’s age. She was pretty, and you slipped out from behind the desk to put away some movies. He really shouldn’t be flirting with the customers, you know this. But... well it was Tuesday night and you were bored and this was far more entertaining than reorganizing the movies in the back room. Less sticky too. 

“Action!” You heard Steve call from up front and you moved casually between the aisles and cringed. Oh, no. He was doing the bit again. How many times have you told him that it wouldn’t work? “Oh, I’m sorry you’re so beautiful I thought you were an actress.”

You had to bite your hand to stop yourself from laughing. You couldn’t handle this, this didn’t work the first dozen times, why the hell would it work now? Steve’s voice carried easily, projecting around the video store and allowing you to hear every single word that came out of his mouth.

You listened as Steve threw everything at this poor girl. Talking himself up as some sort of cinema aficionado when you knew the last movie he rented was Star Wars for the third time to watch with Dustin. And he called you the nerd. 

“So yeah, I was thinking, beautiful girl like yourself might enjoy watching this movie with some company.” Steve said, handing over the movie. The girl in question gave a polite smile and declined the movie, renting the two that she had actually came for and left. 

“That... was sad, Steve.” you said, as she disappeared into the parking lot. You walked over to the counter and picked up the movie that Steve had tried to offer her. “‘The Karate Kid?’ Really? That was your big plan?” 

Steve’s was leaning over the desk, bracing his hands against the side of the counter looking down. “I panicked ok?” he admitted. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I used to be so good at getting any girl I wanted and now I keep blowing it.”

You felt for the guy, you really did. He’d gone from the top of the world to treading water in just a few short months. Steve had told you that he had been at Starcourt Mall the day of the fire, and you had a feeling that it affected him more than he let on. You’d seen him get rejected so many times, but he was always able to brush it off. This time it looked personal. 

Well, he was your friend now, and as your friend it was up to you to help him out. 

“I think you need to learn how to talk to women now that you’re not in high school anymore, Steve.” you said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “The tactics you used before just aren’t going to cut it now. Welcome to “life after high school” where everything you learned over the past twelve years is socially useless.” 

“Yeah? And what would you know about social skills?” Steve said. “I haven’t exactly seen you going on any dates lately either.” 

“Rude, but fair.” you admitted. He didn’t mean anything mean by it, but the two of you were very much opposites when it came to how you both approached things such as your social and dating life. 

Steve was interested in taking any pretty face he saw out on a date. You had not been on a date in months, and had barely tried. Steve had countless tales about his time dating in high school, you went to Homecoming stag with your friends once. Steve talked about a time where he was almost having too much sex. You shamelessly rented porn from the back room and made Steve ring you up as he rolled his eyes. 

He’d asked you on a date once and you almost laughed in his face. He was good looking, in a traditional sense but not your type.After thinking about it, you decided that kissing Steve sounded too much like kissing your favorite cousin. You had politely declined and he seemed relieved. 

It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in dating, you did. You had tried to explain it to Steve one night, that so many people were into being popular and caring about things that you just couldn’t. You’d tried to fit in, but your interests were just weird. You could have fun at a football game if you were with friends, but that came from the excitement of being in an excited crowd and being with people you liked. You didn’t blame anyone for it, you were glad that people could care about these things. You just wished someone could get excited about the same things that you did. 

You and Steve were both fish out of water, you’d just grown used to not being able to breathe. 

“Sorry.” said Steve, standing up straight again. “That was below the belt.”

“You’re a dick, but it’s fine.”  you shrugged. You’d been called worse for less. “You know, I may not be the pinnacle of normalcy but I do happen to be a woman.”

“I thought you said you were the Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Steve laughed under his breath. 

“Only on special occasions.” you replied. “But that’s not the point. Look, you need help getting your groove back. I’m tired of renting movies from the back. I think we could help each other.”

Steve turned to you, brows furrowed. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I’m thinking we could try wing-manning for each other.” you said. “I’ll talk you up and help you not make a jackass out of yourself, and you can help me get a date too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something smart, but he closed it quickly with a tilt of his head. He looked to the side, thinking about the proposal. 

“You can’t do any worse with my help.” you said. “I mean, that ‘actress’ line was bad. Really bad. Like, horrible. I don’t know why you keep using it.”

“It worked with Linda Mendelli.” Steve said defensively. 

“Yeah, I have no idea who that is.” you said. 

“She got the lead in the spring musical two years ago.” 

“So your actress line worked on a high school actress once.” you laughed. “That explains everything.”

“Like you could come up with a better line!” Steve pouted. 

“I can think of a million different lines that would work better than that. And I’ll share them with you, if we have a deal.” you said. 

“So you want me to get you a date?” he clarified. “That’s what you want out of this?”

“That’s what I get out of this. Well, that and I can stop nearly puking when I have to listen to you come up with some weird line when a cute girl walks in. It would save me a lot of money on nausea medication.” You smirked. 

Steve thought about it for a moment before looking you up and down. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re already not interested in changing anything about yourself to make this easier on me.”

“Again, that’s really rude. That is correct though, you get me a date as I am. No make-over montage, no pretending I’m something I’m not. I spent all of high school trying to be something else, and I’m done with that.” you said firmly. 

Steve turned away from you, ran his fingers through his hair, and then turned back, offering his hand. “Fine, you have a deal.” 

With a smile, you spat in your hand and grabbed his in a firm shake. “Deal.”

“Ew!” he jerked his hand back as you laughed. Steve wiped his hand on his pants looking disgusted. “That’s so gross, you really are giving me a run for my money.”

“Right then,” you said with an amused grin. “Let’s start with lesson one, and stop with any stupid pick-up lines to get attention.”

Over the next few weeks, in the slow times during work where there was nothing to do but dust the shelves and rewind tapes, you coached Steve on how to talk to women. 

“It’s really not that hard.” you explained one night. “It really does come down to just two things; be sincere and be confident. You already have probably too much confidence coming out your ass, but the sincerity isn’t there. You keep throwing these random lines out and hoping something sticks. Fine, that works in high school but not anymore.”

“I’m always sincere about asking them on a date!” he protests. “I’m not just asking every girl I see out on a date!”

“That’s statistically incorrect but I’ll humor you.” you said, as you organized the candy shelf, restocking the skittles. “I believe it when you ask a girl out, but you’re so oblivious about them as people. Newsflash, not all girls are the same Harrington.”

“Yeah, some of them are you.” he said, leaning against the counter, having already given up on pretending to work for the night. “How many times have you seen that Rocky Horror movie now?”

“I see it once a month with my friends at the old Cenimaplex right outside town. Been doing that since I was eighteen.” you confirmed. “I’m hoping to get to be part of the shadow cast at some point.” 

“See? That’s weird. Most people maybe go see it once in October.” Steve points out. 

“We aren’t talking about me, Harrington. We’re talking about the type of girls you’re into. Also, don’t knock it. I plan on dragging you along this month. It’s about time you lose your virginity.” you smirked as you ripped open a box of snickers and handed him one. “Don’t tell Keith.”

He took the candy bar. “You know I’m not a virgin. I have had sex before you know.” 

You shook your head, that’d be a conversation for another day. “Let’s get back to the point. You keep asking girls out but you don’t know them.”

“I get to know them when I’m on a date.” he said. 

“That’s all well and good, but you need to be able to see what kind of person they are before you go on the date. Not everyone is like me and wears their personality on their sleeves.” you explained, taking your own candy of choice off the rack. “Okay so today for example. Remember the girl that came in with the brown hair and rented out Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure?” Steve nodded. “So, she also rented out The Breakfast Club.”

“Okay? And what does that have to do with anything?” Steve asked. 

“It means she has a kid sibling, and is probably a burnt out older sibling.” you said. “Loves her baby brother or sister but is also very introspective and trying to figure herself out. You came on too strong with her, asking her to a high school basketball game was too high energy.” 

Steve gawked at you for a moment. “I hate that you just made sense.” He rubbed his cheeks with his hands. “Shit.” 

“Dude, just pay attention to whoever you’re interested in and all the pieces will fall in place.” you said. “Pay attention to the movies, what she’s saying, and if she’s giggling at you then that’s a good sign.” 

“Pay attention. Right. I can do this.” he said. 

Two weeks after this conversation, Steve nabbed his first date in two months. It had taken a little bit of coaching and some hyping on your end but he got a girls number and had set up a date. 

Three days after that he had another date set up. 

Two days after that, another three dates. 

It was the start of October now, and you were decorating the store for the season. You were standing on a ladder putting up a strand of black garland while Steve held the ladder. 

“So I’m taking Shannon out on Tuesday to get ice cream at the new place down the street.” Steve explained. 

“We work Tuesday.” you said. 

“Tuesday morning.” Steve clarified. “Then Thursday I have two dates with Amy and Marissa since it’s my day off.” 

He’d been going on about this for an hour. Steve had been going on dates steadily again for at least three weeks now. It had only been a little over a month that the two of you had agreed to the deal. Now King Steve was back, and you were now subject to every detail of his romantic escapades again. You were happy for your friend, really, but sometimes you’d sneak into the back room and organize the porn just to give you a moment away from hearing about your friends new-found sex life. 

It didn’t need to make sense, it just needed to work. 

“Do you ever stop to sleep?” you asked, taping up the final end of garland and coming back down the ladder. 

“Sometimes I sleep before I have to sneak out a window after I’ve-”

“Nope. No more words, Harrington.” you said, holding up a hand as he laughed. “I get it, I’ll give you more hours so that you can expand your condom budget. Your poor kids must feel neglected while you find them a new mom.”

“I thought you said that I was the single mom?” Steve asked as you both moved the ladder to a new spot. He handed you a bat from the box that held the Halloween decorations. 

“Oh, you are. Your kids can have two moms, I’ll allow it.” you said, hopping up on the ladder again. “Hey look, I’m Ozzie Osbourn!” 

Jokingly you bit at the head of the bat as Steve looked up at you as if you were insane. “...What?”

You frowned and looked down at him. “Black Sabbath?” you asked. “The guy bit a bats head off on stage?” Now he was looking at you like you were a total psychopath. “Oh come on, you didn’t hear about that? The first time it was a fake bat but then he somehow managed to grab a real bat?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, as usual.” Steve said, shaking his head. “What movie is Black Sabbath again?” 

It was your turn to stare at him now. “How are we even friends?” you asked. “You and I don’t have a single thing in common. ‘What movie is Black Sabbath’ be so for real right now.” 

“You asked me last week if the Pacers was a marathon I was going to race!” Steve shot back. 

“And I stand by that, because that does NOT sound like the name of a basketball team.” You climbed higher on the ladder to hang the bat. 

“You’re thinking of the Fitness Gram Pacer Test.” 

“Sports!” you cried out, giving the bat a small bap to make it swing. “Movement like that means nothing to me!” you gave a pause. “Unless you’re actually going to compete. I’ll care for your sake if you’re playing. Otherwise I’m just gonna smile and nod. Give me another bat.”

Steve dug into the box again to pull out another bat for you. “So what’s Black Sabbath then?” he finally asked. 

“Look at you taking my lessons to heart and asking questions about a girls interest!” You reached down and pat his hair, causing him to swat you away again with a comment about not touching his hair. “It’s a metal band.” 

“I didn’t think you were into metal.” Steve said as you came back down the ladder. 

“I’m into anything I like.” you said simply. “Why limit yourself, you know? If I like something I need to learn everything about it or I feel like my brain will explode.”

“You’re kind of weird.”

“I know.”

The two of you continued to decorate the store between taking care of customers. You were going a bit overboard, if you were honest. Keith had handed you a pathetic box of a few paper decorations to use, and you had gone out with your own money to buy more. If you were expected to be here to earn a paycheck you may as well get something out of it, even if it was the feeling of being surrounded by cheesy holiday memorabilia. 

“So how are the kids, Harrington?” you asked, untangling a fake spiders web. 

Steve sighed, messing with the candy counter. “Dustin’s doing good. He’s made a friend at school.” 

“You seem tense about that.” you looked over at him. “Care to share with the class how that makes you feel?”

“I don’t feel anything about it.” Steve said, clearly defensive. “Henderson has a new cool older friend who’s into the same nerdy shit he’s into.”

Steve was so jealous, it was written all over his face. How long had he been the cool older figure in that kid's life? 

“Should have taken him up on playing D&D with him.” you said with a grin. “Now your child is going to divorce you for a new dad.”

“You really need to sort out whatever metaphor you’re going to use with me and these kids.” 

“Nah, gotta keep you on your toes.”

Steve shook his head with a laugh. “It’s funny you know? One minute I’m the coolest guy in the room to everyone. I was king of Hawkins High, had these kids that annoyed the shit out of me but looked up to me, and the best girlfriend I could have asked for. Then I graduated, the kids took over school, and now I’m single even after going on all these dates.” 

“Yeah, life’s funny like that.” you agreed. “If it makes you feel any better I don’t think you’re super lame. You’re actually kind of an alright dude.”

“Thanks.” 

“Any time.” 

“...So speaking of you going on dates.” you started slowly, unsure how to bring this up. 

“Right, yeah, so I said I was going out with Amy and Marissa on Thursday-” Steve started.

“No not that,” you interrupted. “Well, sort of but not really. So I’ve held up my end of the bargain, Harrington.” 

Steve froze for a moment before looking up at you on the ladder. “Oh, right. So about that, I have no idea what you even like in a guy.”

“Fair enough, I have not exactly been as pro-active as you have been.” The past few weeks had been so busy with the changing of seasons and weeding out old movies that you hadn’t really had time to think about dates. You’d been stuck in a perpetual loop of work and school with the occasional odd movie night with Steve and Robin when they were free. 

“So what do you like?” he asked. “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to open up about that.”

“Oh but that involves being vulnerable with King Steve of Hawkins High and that’s not exactly my style.” you sighed dramatically. 

“Last week when we got together for movie night you got drunk and cried about how you got asked out to prom as a joke. Is that not opening up or being vulnerable?” 

You winced and made a face. “I did that? Yikes. I’m never drinking again.” You did remember renting out Carrie with the others and crying because she had been a very relatable character in your early high school years. Things were a lot better now that you left high school, but you supposed that had struck a nerve. 

“Come on, just give me something to work with. I know you’re a weirdo who obsesses over the most random things. You like Rocky Horror and anything with music. But what do you like in a guy?” Steve pressed. 

You fiddled with the decoration that had been perfectly hung a moment ago, just to give you something to do with your hands. This was a very good question that you had thought about a lot. 

“I guess I want someone who’s as weird as I am.” you finally said. “I’d like to at least meet someone who understood the things I cared about, or was at least willing to learn. I know I’m different, and I’m okay with being different. I want a guy who gets being like that, and won’t make me feel less for it.”

“That’s... specifically vague.” Steve said, thinking. “I was thinking more looks wise.” 

“I like guys with long hair.” you said immediately. 

That he could probably work with. You hopped off the ladder for the last time and he helped you pack it away in the storage closet.

Steve was thinking hard about what to do about his end of the bargain when the door rang and someone walked inside. 

“Steve!” A voice called out, and your co-workers face immediately lit up and ran to the front of the store. 

“Henderson!”

You watched as the two boys ran to each other, immediately going into a secret handshake that you couldn’t help but find endearing. The kids that Steve was friends with were always fun, but you had to admit that you had a soft spot for Dustin. That was a kid who knew who he was and wasn’t afraid to be it. You admired that a lot about him. 

Deciding to give them a bit of space, you made yourself busy with the horror movie section, making sure that everything was in place. Lucky for you though, those two were still very much boys and you could hear every single part of their conversation. 

It’s not eavesdropping if they’re that loud. Probably. 

“The store looks great!” Dustin said, looking around. “You guys really went all out with the decorations, huh?” 

“Yup, we just got finished. She bought most of this stuff herself.” Steve gestured to you and you gave a wave. 

“Hey, Dustin!” you called out, and he waved back. 

“They’ve started putting up decorations at school too, but people keep stealing them.” Dustin said. “There are at least three skeletons missing from the science labs.”

“Those aren’t decorations, Henderson. I think those are supposed to be educational.” Steve replied. 

“Not when they’re wearing witches hats and cat ears.” Dustin countered. Steve shrugged in agreement. 

“So is school going alright? How’s Lucas doing on the team? What about Mike?” Steve asked and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Steve could deny it all he wanted, but he was absolutely a single mother to these kids. You wished that you had a way to record him so that he could see the way he was fussing over them. 

“Lucas is still a bench-warmer.” Dustin said, grabbing a candy bar from the snack stand. You conveniently were too busy making sure that a copy of Sleepaway Camp was properly rewound to notice the blatant theft. “He still goes to practice every week, but he hasn’t been on the court yet. He’s been making a lot of cool and popular friends.”

There was no hiding the disdain in his voice when he said that. 

“Well Basketball is the best way to secure your ranking at Hawkins.” Steve said. “I would know.” 

“Yeah but it seems like he never has time to even come to Hellfire Club anymore. We’re lucky if he makes it to one or two sessions a month.” Dustin sighed. “He totally blew off me and Mike last week to go hang out with his cool new friends.”

“You know, you have an in with the popular crowd now Henderson. You could use this as a chance to be popular.” Steve pointed out. 

“But I don’t want to be popular, Steve! I’m happy with the friends I have and enjoying what I like.” 

“Ignore Steve, he’s stupid. Keep doing what you’re doing, kid!” you called out to them, making Dustin laugh and Steve sigh. 

“Thank you.” Dustin said before turning to Steve again. “Anyway, Eddie says that conformity is overrated. He says it’s better to be a freak with a few friends than some weird version of normalcy and be miserable.” 

“Right, because ‘the freak’ is so wise.” Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

“He is!” Dustin frowned. “You know, he’s the only person who’s been nice to me and Mike since we started school. And last session he had us-” 

That was when you started tuning the conversation out. You looked up at the clock and swore, you had some work to do in the back before your shift is over. 

“Steve, watch the front for me. I’ll be finishing up in the back.” you called out, and Steve only waived in response. 

Once you were out of earshot, Steve held up a hand to Dustin to signal him to stop talking. 

“What?” asked Dustin. “You told me that I get at least five uninterrupted minutes to talk about the campaign when we hang out.”

“Yeah, and I’ll let you have seven minutes if you help me out.” Steve said. 

“Seven? An extra two minutes? Make it ten.” Dustin crossed his arms, 

“Eight.” 

“Deal. What do you need?”

Steve stares at Dustin for a second. He doesn’t want to ask this question, as he never had any interest in knowing anything about Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. Eddie had been a stagnant 2 years ahead of him and somehow still hadn’t graduated. Steve couldn’t comprehend being 20 and still in high school, and he almost felt bad for entertaining this thought. Then again, you had also spent an extra semester at school, so maybe that wouldn’t be a deterrent. 

“I need you to tell me more about Eddie.” Steve finally managed to get out. Dustin looked like Christmas had suddenly come early. 

“You want to know more about Eddie?” Dustin had a shit-eating grin on his face that Steve hated. “Since when do you have an interest in Dungeons and Dragons?”

“I still don’t.” Steve said firmly. “I never have and never will understand your game. And I’m not asking about him for me, I’m asking about him for her.” He motioned to the door to the back room. 

“Her?” Dustin looked at the door, as if he could see you through the flimsy wood. “Is she wanting to play?”

“I don’t know, probably? She’s made enough references to playing before. Listen, no, that’s not what this is about.” Steve sighed. “We have this deal going on. She’d help me get dates if I helped her get a date. And she followed through, and I still have no idea how to get her a date.”

“She wants to date Eddie?” Dustin had a look on his face that was a mix of surprise and confusion. “How does she know him?”

“I don’t think she knows Eddie.” Steve said. “But she wants someone weird and as much as I hate to admit it, your new friend might actually fit her criteria.” 

“Fifteen minutes.” 

“Dude, come on.” 

“Fifteen uninterrupted minutes, and you let me rent an R rated movie.” 

“Jesus, Henderson.”

“Deal or no deal?” 

Steve turned and looked at the door that you had disappeared behind. You had been a good friend to him over the past four months, a really good friend. You and Robin had been able to keep him grounded and going after the Starcourt Fire. You’d more than held up your end of the bargain. 

“Fine, deal.” Steve agreed. 

Dustin smiled and seemed content. “So what do you want to know?”

Part 2

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile

[andy-wm]

Why is Bam on insta?

This thought flashed in my head when i saw the most recent photos of Bam.

Maybe I'm just slow and everyone else figured this out already but maybe not, so I’m sharing it.

The Bam insta account isn't just a fun side project set up by JK while he’s doing military service. He doesn't even have an account for himself*, so why would he make one for his puppy? It's not like he needs (or wants?) more followers or influence, and he could have just used his t1ct0k, where hes already got gazillions of followers.

When bowwow_bam first appeared, many comments suggested he created it to keep in touch with ARMY while he's serving in the military. And yes he DID share the account with ARMY on weverse, but I doubt that's the reason it exists.

Bowwow_bam is not for ARMY...

The photos JK gets from the training centre let him know that Bam is happy and well cared for.

Even though Bam has been in and out of the training centre often while JK has had his schedules, those stays were brief compared to 18 months. This time, Bam will basically be living there full time, long term.

Maybe this is why JK sent Bam to the training centre so often in the past, when he might have left Bam with friends or family instead. That way, the training centre became familiar to Bam before his long term stay.

Bowwow_bam is for JK

Bam's photos are likely sent to JK directly, so why post them to a public platform? And why post ONLY these?

Why?

Sure, it's a good way for JK to stay connected to ARMY with minimal effort. Let's not be foolish enough to think he doesn't care about that. It's pretty clear he wants to pick up his career where he left off when he comes back. (It goes without saying that BTS - and JK - will still have millions of fans after MS.)

But i don't believe thats the only reason Bam has an insta account, and i dont think it's the most significant reason either.

There are so many ways JK could have maintained a socials presence. If he wanted to be on insta, even just reposting old content would keep him at the forefront of ARMY's mind... if he had an insta account* that is.

It also got me thinking about what JK will be doing with his time off.

He isn't all that close to his family, he tells us. And most of his friends are idols, from what we see (although that could be selective information), so probably insanely busy with their own schedules. And his Bangtan brothers, his found family, are also doing their service. And he and Jimin are apparently on different shifts (if the information we have is correct).

So who is he connecting wiith?

Who is his link to home and normality?

This doggo right here is.

Besides letting JK know that Bam is happy and well cared for, the photos connect JK to home and give him something tangible to look forward to on the other side of his service.

They'd remind him that this episode of his life has an end date, that he has a place to return to, and that somebody is waiting for him to come home. Bam is waiting for him.

But why post them on instagram?

We know JK has a strong connection with ARMY. He's said many times that we're his safe place (debatable, honestly) and his happy place (I truly hope so). He's told us it's ARMY he talks to late at night when he's alone. He's also set clear boundaries about what he's prepared to share and how close we're allowed to come - although he blurs these lines himself sometimes... naked livestreams from his bed come to mind, but i digress...

I believe the insta account - Bam and ARMY together - is his anchor. This is his link back to his life before and after MS.

Sharing these photos from the training centre with his three (or four or five) million closest friends would validate for JK what his life has been, and will be again. It tells him we (like Bam) are still here, still waiting, without him ever having to ask.

It keeps that part of his life real for him.

Just to be clear,

I'm not downplaying the significance of Jimin and JK serving together in the companions program.

In my mind nothing could be more significant.

Jimin is with him day after exhausting day, just as he has been for the last twelve years. While that must be an enormous comfort to them both, these long and arduous days must still seem endless.

Getting through this difficult time with any sort of optimism would require something to look forward to, and recieving photos of Bam would give JK much happiness, and remind him that there is life outside of the camp.

They'd serve to remind him that at the end of it all he will see his beloved doggo in person...

...and that he and Jimin will go home and his little family will be whole again

💜🐰🐶🐥💛

*pretty sure he does tho...

~as always, opinions are my own and all of this is conjecture~

[toutvatoujoursbien]

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash? 

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably.  Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it. 

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really). 

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo. 

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very  unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play. 

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read. 

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make. 

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he’s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part. 

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media -  they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it. 

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time. 

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way. 

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything. 

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

[lu-sn]

Arm has a top-secret file that he keeps on a separate partition of his hard drive, locked behind three different password walls. It’s a list of all of the main family’s bodyguards, ranked by how likely they are to be the mole.

(It’s top-secret because he’s not supposed to be looking into this. Chan explicitly ordered him not to.)

There’s a handful of people Arm doesn’t even bother putting on the list. Pol, for one. Pete. Erika. Chan.

By contrast, every single one of Kinn’s personal bodyguards, past and present, is a prime suspect. Kinn’s had a notorious streak of bad luck lately. Four murder attempts in four months cannot be a coincidence.

Ken is just aloof enough that nobody seems to know what he’s up to on his off-days. This rockets him straight to the top of Arm’s list, tied with Big, who has fallen so far out of favor with Kinn that Arm can’t help but wonder if Kinn is doing it on purpose.

And then there’s the name directly under those two.

“Be honest,” he says to Pete one day. They’re sequestered in his armory, but he keeps his voice low: there’s no harm in being careful with matters like this. “Do you think there’s any chance Porsche is the mole?”

Pete is silent for a good, long moment.

“You live with him,” Arm says. “You’ve been on more missions with him than me. If anyone here knows him best, it’s you.”

“There are reasons to suspect him,” Pete says slowly. “A lot of his missions have gone wrong. He didn’t stop that girl from attacking Kinn in the bathroom. The casino stakeout was a mess. The diamond auction was worse.”

“But…?”

Pete sighs. “I don’t know. He’s young. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s improving.”

Arm stares forlornly at his list, cursor blinking innocently next to Porsche’s name. “Pete, I can’t clear his name just because he’s young.”

“No,” Pete concedes. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “But he’s kind, too. He’s principled. He won’t betray people he cares about.”

“And that’s enough? You trust him?”

“I do.”

The knot in Arm’s chest jerks tighter. “But… he’s so likable.”

“Ohhh, right, he’s nice. Never mind. Death by firing squad.”

Arm smiles, sheepish.

“Okay,” Pete says. “So you think he’s tricking us?”

“Shit, Pete, I don’t know,” Arm splutters. “Isn't it possible?”

“I don't think so. Porsche isn't like that.”

Arm considers this, then plops his face into his hand.

“Did you want me to say something else?” Pete says, faintly amused.

“Yes,” Arm groans.

“Why?”

“Because…” Arm trails off.

Because the security of the main family rests on his shoulders. Arm cannot afford to be anything other than objective; he needs to leave Porsche on his list.

But the problem is that Porsche barreled into their lives and immediately made Khun Noo happier than Arm had ever seen before. The problem is that Pol hasn’t been this comfortable around someone since Arm himself. The problem is that Arm vaguely remembers being carried home from Hum Bar by an equally drunk Porsche, who took off his shoes for him and tucked him into bed and grinned brightly over his shoulder before staggering out the door.

The problem is that Arm is biased.

Pete, on the other hand, is the most level-headed person Arm knows. Leaving Porsche’s name on his list wouldn’t feel so terrible if Pete agreed with it.

“I wanted you to give me a reason to keep him on here,” Arm mumbles. “I feel bad. He’s our friend.”

“You’re doing your job,” Pete says sincerely. “There’s no shame in that. But…” He reaches over to pat Arm on the shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with trusting your gut. If you think he’s innocent, leave him off.”

Arm mulls over this. Then he pokes Pete in the side. “I think I trust your gut more than mine.”

Pete lets out a laugh, incredulous, and pokes Arm back.

-

Later, Arm highlights Porsche’s entry with his cursor and drags it to the bottom of the file. Then he pauses. His hand hovers over the delete button.

He thinks about Pete saying, I trust him. He thinks about what Pete didn’t quite say: you should trust yourself, too.

He hits delete.

-

#kpanniversary2024 episode 9 + prompt 9: trust

[alloftheimaginesblog]

merry christmas {peter parker}

plot: you and peter broke up around christmas one year ago but he heard that you've moved on and he comes to see you.

character: female reader x peter parker (tasm)

His body was on auto-pilot as he swung through the streets of New York; it was a second nature to him now to swing absent-mindedly and get to his required destination safely. However, his mind was not so clear. His mind reeled over the information he'd heard from Aunt May just a few days prior.

"I met (y/n) today, Peter. She looked good, really good actually... She asked about you."

Peter's heart thudded hard inside his chest at the mere mention of your name. Aunt May eyed him curiously, she hadn't brought you up in months because every time she did, Peter's face would drop and his volume grew loud. Today, though, seemed different. Peter swallowed hard, "Yeah?" He asked, trying his hardest to not sound interested, "How is she?"

Aunt May hesitated. She didn't want to tell him but she had to. You and Peter had been broken up for almost a year and he hadn't moved on; still blamed himself for you getting hurt and still regretted his decision of walking away every single minute of every single day.

"She's dating again." It was those three words which broke Peter's heart in two, "She seems really happy." And then those four words shattered the two halves into millions of little pieces.

For the last three days, it's all Peter could think about; the fact that you were dating again and... you were happy. You and Peter had been happy once a long time ago.

The two of you had grown up together though not very close until college, after Gwen... Your friendship was solid but there was always something more to your relationship and then three years ago, it transformed into something more. It was really good. You helped Peter to heal, he helped you let go of past traumas and then... he got stupid, careless and you ended up getting put in harm's way. You got hurt, badly hurt, and Peter couldn't live with the guilt no matter how much you tried and pleaded with him that it wasn't his fault. He pulled back and you had no choice but to leave. You wanted to stay and you tried - you tried so hard to fight but after months of coldness, of him pulling away... you couldn't do it anymore. You lost the fight and gave up.

"When you're ready, Pete... I'll be here."

He figured you would move on but he didn't realise that it would actually happen. He didn't think you would actually be able to move on. And yet, here he was swinging to your apartment on Christmas Eve as snow fell around him and flashing lights filled the night's sky and then, there you were... in the arms of your new boyfriend.

You were curled up together on the sofa watching - Peter released a breath he didn't know he was holding - Home Alone. You and Peter used to always watch it on Christmas Eve too. Jealously raged in his stomach, boiling hot and angry but it was the overwhelming sadness which poured down on him like a wave crashing into him that won the battle. He moved closer, landing on your fire escape though out of view. Your apartment was mostly the same though you didn't have the pictures of the two of you littered over the walls anymore... Instead the walls were bare, he hated that. Your Christmas tree decorations were the same, same gaudy tinsel that used to give Peter a sore head if he looked at it for too long and...

He stilled.

You still had the decoration that the two of you made together. It was clay which you'd imprinted both of your thumbs into the shape of a heart onto the surface. He couldn't believe that you still had it. He didn't think a new boyfriend would like that but he realised you'd hidden it at the back of the tree for that very reason - maybe so that if Peter were to swing on by he could see it and know that you still loved him?

He shook his head. You had moved on. You were over him. Done. Finished. But why didn't it feel finished? Why didn't he feel like he could move on? Peter knew he shouldn't but he needed to. He needed to tell you how he still felt even if it was to say goodbye but he couldn't just barge into your apartment when your boyfriend was here - that would be an awful first impression, wouldn't it? Instead, he jumped off of the fire escape and swung his way down the street to Sal's Corner Store.

There, he bought a cheesy Christmas card which looked like a three year old threw up glitter on it, "Can I borrow your pen?"

"Sure thing, Spider-Man!" Sal said chucking him a pen which Peter caught effortlessly. To serve Spider-Man in a store these days wasn't all that unusual. It usually meant quicker service so Peter often would pull his suit on when Aunt May needed groceries - it was just easier.

It took him a few minutes to write everything he needed to write down and then he handed the pen back, "Merry Christmas, Sal!" And he was off again, swinging back up to your fire escape.

You yawned, leaning into the embrace of your boyfriend when a flash of blue and red from your window caught your eye. No fucking way. Your heart suddenly quickened by about 100 times the speed as you stared frozen in your seat staring out the window. All you could see was darkness, no one was there but you had seen - you were sure that you had seen...

Slowly, you stood, telling your boyfriend some lame excuse about being too warm, and moved towards the window of the fire escape. It was empty but as you slid the window open you saw it... A red envelope which was stuck to the railing with... a web.

You could leave it there, leave it to disintegrate in the snow never knowing what he wanted to tell you, never knowing how he felt... Could you live with that? Knowing that he had stretched out his hand and you had ignored it, turned away and shut the window on him. You released a long breath and stretched out your arm and yanking the letter from the web and coming back inside. You excused yourself to the kitchen to read it as your heart beat faster and faster.

Dear (y/n),

It's Peter.

I know that you've moved on and I saw how happy you looked and I had every intention of writing you this card to try to win you back. I wanted to tell you that I was ready for a relationship, I was ready to let you in and letting you go was the biggest regret of my life but... I'm standing in Sal's and I can't write what I want to write. What kind of person would I be to ruin your current happiness in hopes of chasing a dream we once shared together?

I want to be happy... with you but you're so happy so... I guess I'm going to try and let you go. It's not going to be easy but I need to let you go, for your own good and for mine.

I'll always love you.

Merry Christmas, (y/n).

Peter

Your hands trembled as you read the card over and over soaking up every letter, every scribble, every scratch of ink on the paper; every trace of Peter. You had gone without any inkling of him in a year and now you had a taste and you needed to soak it up as much as you could. You were so focussed on the card that you didn't hear footsteps come up behind you, "What's that, babe?" Your boyfriend asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

"Nothing," you said quickly, closing the card and sliding it into the bin, "Christmas card from an old friend." You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to him, forcing a smile, "Ready to go finish the movie?"

You were happy, you were and you weren't going to throw your happiness away just because Peter wrote you a card. You couldn't. You wouldn't. You were happy so... with a breath and a smile, you walked into the living room and fell back into the arms of your boyfriend with the words of Peter's card still floating around your head.

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (12)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T (reference to prior acts) Words: 1.2k Summary: "Thanks." "Anytime."

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

He ain’t got no right to feel hurt.

After he’d come harder than he had in a century, spilling his seed across those soft thighs of hers, he’d tried to kiss her. He knew better, but for some reason thought it might be different after.

She’d rejected him, of course.

Why wouldn’t she? She was all smooth skin and cool blood, and she’d made her stance on kisses abundantly clear. But after that ride he was certain she’d change her mind. 

He was a damned fool.

He needs to get away, to shimmy out of this hole they were trapped in and get his bearings again. Put some distance between them. The deathclaw was long gone, no reason to keep hiding.

Except…

Except she was still panting under him, round breasts pressed to his chest with each inhale. He hadn’t imagined how wet she was for him, the way she’d come apart on his cock… nor had he imagined that other thing.

It was enough to drive a man to drink. 

Deciding discretion is the better part of valor he digs in his pocket, finding a scrap of cloth and using it to wipe the cum from her skin before it can begin to burn. “You’ll need a dose of Rad-Away,” he tells her and she turns back, blinking up at him in confusion for a moment before her lips part in a silent ‘o’.

“I didn’t even think about that.”

No she hadn’t, and she hadn’t considered that he was as liable to eat her as he was to fuck her once they were in those tight quarters. She’d trusted him implicitly, which was an idiotic thing to do.

“C’mon, let’s get out and see what’s going on.” He uses one hand to do up his trousers then slides past her, scooping his hat back up and glancing around. There’s footprints in the floor but no sign of any danger. He turns back to tell her as much but she’s already there, dress still pushed to her waist and looking like she’d just been ridden hard.

His mouth goes instantly dry.

She doesn’t meet his eye when she fusses with the straps of the dress and he steps forward without thinking, pulling one up and settling it on her shoulder with careful fingers. She shivers under his touch and he cups her neck, forcing her to look up at him.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s a terrible answer, one that gnaws at him as he steps away and fishes for his pack and gloves. He finds hers first, passing the bag her direction without a word. When he sets off again it’s parallel to the mountains they’re aiming for but she doesn’t say a word, keeping one step behind him.

The place he stops at for the night used to be a gas station, concrete on three sides with an easy vantage point from the front. They run off a mole rat and then he gives her the go ahead when she asks about a fire. The smell of roasted iguana fills the space while they sit silently across from each other.

“I wanted to.”

He cocks his head at her. They hadn’t exchanged more than three words in the last four hours.

“You asked why I… because I wanted to. Because I wanted you. Even though I shouldn’t.”

“Because I’m a ghoul,” he finishes for her with a scowl.

“Because I’m me and you’re…. you don’t know what I am.”

The bounty. He’d almost forgotten it. The poster was burning a hole in his pack and he’d all but decided to put off claiming it for at least a month. But she didn’t know that - didn’t know that he knew she was wanted by someone.

It was the perfect time to come clean - so of course he doesn’t. She continually surprised him and without knowing what her reaction was he wasn’t willing to risk it.

“I know you looked mighty pretty with my cock in you.” Her eyes fly to his and he grins, feeling himself warm when she laughs.

“It felt mighty pretty.”

That gets a laugh from him and he sets his hat aside and leans back against the rubble behind him. “Reckon it’s not what a filly imagines for her first time though, in the dirt like that.”

“You noticed.”

He snorts, “Damn hard not to.” 

Biting her lip she glances up at him from under long eyelashes before shaking her head. “You ever spent your whole life preparing to be one thing - only to realize you never really wanted it in the first place?”

He manages to keep his face impassive by a hairsbreadth. “I reckon I can imagine that.”

“I was… raised to be the perfect wife to someone. Be their partner, be only theirs… I never got to make any choices for myself. It was always someone else’s plan.” She pauses and stares down at her hands, “I never thought I would get to choose who my first time was with.”

“Don’t reckon you had much a choice as it was with my ass rutting on top of you.”

She gifts him with a wide smile, “Is that how you remember it?” When he doesn’t reply she continues, “If I’d told you no would you have stopped?”

“I like to think I would have but to be honest I don’t rightly know, hard to think when you’ve got a pair of tits in your face like that.”

The tension in the air breaks and she gives him a mock frown. “Excuse you, I believe it was your tits in my face.”

“And I seem to recall you were having a mite of trouble yourself with keeping your thoughts straight.”

You both break into soft laughter. Silence fills out the space for a few minutes, the only sounds the crackling of the fire.

“Thank you.”

He nearly chokes on his tongue. A dozen jokes leap to mind but she’s not meeting his eyes. He lets it sit before finally replying, “Anytime, darling.” The arch of her neck calls to him and he coughs suddenly, taking a hit of chem.

“I don’t think we should,” she says with a small frown. “It’s dangerous.”

“Shit, you take that Rad-Away yet?”

Her eyes go wide with panic and he pushes himself to his feet, squatting next to her and taking the pack she offers. She doesn’t hesitate to offer her arm, not flinching when he slides the needle in. He sets the meds above her head and flicks the tube until he’s satisfied it’s moving.

Oh, but those big bright eyes of hers are staring up at him like he hung the moon in the sky and he’s already forgotten what had him so irritated all afternoon.

“Thanks,” she says again.

“Anytime.”

He doesn’t move, hovering over her, and she doesn’t ask him to. After a moment she reaches up and tugs at his coat, pulling him to sit next to her and then leaning into his shoulder. A million different thoughts war within him before he does the thing he most wants, which is to wrap an arm around her and pull her against his side.

“Sleep,” he tells her. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[marvelmymarvel]

Best Big Brother

Iruka Umino x NarutoMotherFigure!Reader

Synopsis: Naruto was returning to the village after two years of training, and you were nervous about how he would feel about the new addition. But you realized how silly you were once Naruto laid eyes on his baby brother.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

“I don't know, Iruka… I’m just nervous, is all,” you muttered sheepishly to your husband for what felt like the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You bounced on your toes at the village gate, waiting anxiously for Naruto to return from training. He’s been gone for two years, and you were only five months pregnant before he left. He loved it and was happy that you were excited. But you couldn't help but feel fear that his genuine emotions would show. 

That he would hate the new addition. 

“There's no need to be worried; he knew you were pregnant before he left-”

“Yes… But what if he hates him? What if he despises the fact that I had another kid?” You knew you sounded silly. You knew it because of the sigh Iruka let out. You huffed out before looking at Yuto on your hip. Being 31 made you praise the gods above that he was so easygoing, but that didn't mean he didn't have his fussy moments. “Yuto, your hat is crooked,” you whispered as you readjusted the floppy sunhat on his head. He squirmed against your hip, little hands flying to fight you off. For being almost two, he was already a firecracker. “No!”

Your eyebrows shot up at the new word, you dreaded these moments with Naruto when he was younger, and now you had to go through it again. Thankfully, you weren't alone, and it paid off to have a husband four years younger than you. Iruka piped in behind you, scolding Yuto for saying the word when you were just trying to help him. You shot a side-eyed look at Iruka, lip curling into a smirk at his ‘fatherly’ instincts kicking in. His cheeks reddened at your smile before he cleared his throat.

“That fatherly instinct comes out pretty easily for you… Sure you don't have any other kids lying around?” your teasing caused him to straighten up, an outsider would have thought you offended him, but he knew what you were referring to. “I’ve had enough practice with your other kid.”

Your head flew back in laughter, joy flooding your system as you remembered the pranks that Naruto pulled as a kid. God, did you love that kid. Your laughter became a giggle, and the fear replaced the joy again. Iruka knew you were worried and had a reason to be. But Yuto was just like Naruto. If Naruto didn't like him, he was being foolish. He stepped closer to you, arm wrapping behind you so he could pull you and Yuto closer to him.

“I think Naruto will love him. Do you not see parallels between the two?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to argue against that statement. Yuto, while not looking like him, was a carbon copy of how Naruto was at his age. It was something that you both adored and feared. You barely kept Naruto alive during those years, so how in the world were you going to do the same for Yuto?

“Mama”

You snapped out of your thoughts as your son reached up to touch your face, eyes wide in curiosity as you showed a side he's never seen before. A smile quickly rose to your lips as you hid your fear. You opened your mouth to answer, but Iruka interjected, “Here, why don't I take him for a bit? Let you calm down.” 

Your e/c eyes widened at that. How did he always know what you needed without asking? It was a miracle to have married someone as perceptive as he was. You didn't argue as he took the child from your embrace, but you didn't miss the sadness that washed through your veins. Iruka kissed your temple as he adjusted Yuto on his hip, “It's going to be okay, honey.” 

“Part of me is sad that the mother I am today wasn’t the mother he needed years ago.”

Iruka’s face scrunched up in confusion, head shaking furiously as he tried to find the source of this newfound self-hatred. “Where is this coming from? You were a wonderful mother to Naruto.” 

You didn't dare look at him, instead turning your gaze back to the horizon. But you felt the tension build as he stared at you intently. “Hey-”

Your gaze shot back to his, eyes brimming with tears as he brought down your walls again. “I don't know, Iruka; I guess I just feel like I failed as a mother with him, and I’m doing much better now with Yuto-”

“Y/n-”

“And I’m worried that Naruto will be upset seeing how different I am as a mother. I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if maybe someone else could have raised him better.”

“Y/n.” 

Iruka’s voice was low, tone warning as he stepped closer to you. He didn't know where this negative thinking originated but he wouldn't allow it to persist for another second. “You were fourteen… Do you know what I was doing at fourteen?”

“Probably having a giant crush on me?”

“Y/n”

“Sorry”

Silence fell between you as you looked at your feet. Maybe he would just let it go. Let you continue wallowing in self-pity, but that's not who Iruka was, which is why you married him. “You did the best you could with the resources you had. So stop putting yourself down for being different… Now… Unless you want Naruto to question why you’re sad to see him….”

A gasp fell from your lips as you excitedly looked up, “Naruto!!” Your scream reached the blonde, your voice causing him to perk up. “MOM!!!!” His voice boomed across the open field as he broke out into a sprint. He reached you within seconds, body crashing into yours. Iruka smiled brightly at the embrace, tears of joy streaming down your face as you held him close. Iruka felt Yuto cling to him as he watched the scene before him. He wasn't sure who this newcomer was, and it confused his little toddler brain.

Your husband cleared his throat, feeling like it was time for Yuto to meet Naruto for the first time. Naruto pulled away from your hug and let his eyes drift towards Iruka and the child perched on his hip. “Hey, buddy! It's so good to meet you finally,” Naruto stated sweetly as he raised his hands to try and take him from Iruka, but the toddler shied more into his father's neck. Naruto's smile faltered as he retracted his hands, “Sorry honey, just let him warm up. Ruka, can you put him down? Maybe he’ll play with him.”

Iruka nodded before moving Yuto to the ground below. He fussed for a bit, whimpers of “Daddy” and “No” falling from his lips as he reached back up for his father. Before he got too fussy, you sat beside him and motioned for Naruto to sit. Yuto immediately crawled into your lap, curling into your embrace. “Yuto,” you cooed as you positioned him in a way so he was still clinging onto you but forced to face his brother in front of him.

“Yuto, this is your big brother Naruto.” 

You knew he didn't quite understand what you were saying at this age, but seeing how relaxed you were around the stranger allowed him to calm down. Seeing this as your sign to continue, you leaned over to grab the diaper bag, opening it to bring out a couple of Yuto’s toys. Setting the toys on the ground between you and Naruto, Yuto’s eyes widened as he climbed off your lap to start playing with them. You looked at Naruto before nodding at the toys, encouraging him to start playing as well.

Iruka plopped down beside you three, head resting on his fist as he watched the two boys bond. Within minutes, Yuto had found his way into Naruto’s lap. The blonde laughed as Yuto moved the car along his arm, lips pursed as he let out a ‘vrooming’ sound. “He is so cute, Mom. I love him.” 

Your heart soared at Naruto’s words. All your fears flying out the window as Naruto played with Yuto as if he was his own flesh and blood brother. The two didn't look alike, but Naruto could see that this little guy would be his little shadow. Naruto wrapped his arms around Yuto, pulling him into a hug. “I’m going to help you get into so much trouble-”

“Naruto!”

“I’m kidding!! I’m kidding….” The blonde stated in a laughing tone before he got serious, “I’m going to train you to be the best ninja in the world. You’ll be Hokage someday.”

“Let's start with him learning to speak and use a spoon,” you teased as you brought your hand to Yuto’s side, tickling him into a fit of laughter. Naruto gripped the giggling toddler before pulling him away from your fingers, protecting him from your advances.

Your eyebrow shot up as you looked at Iruka, who was just shaking his head at the display before him. He still couldn't believe that you thought Naruto wouldn't love Yuto when they were the same person. It's just that one was 1.5, and one was 15. A yawn sounded out, and Naruto melted as Yuto cuddled into him, eyes drooping as he fought back the nap coming on. 

“Why don't we get him home for a nap…” Iruka stated softly as he stood up first. He reached down to grab the toddler, but Naruto shook his head. “I’ll carry him, Iruka sensei” Your lips curled into a beaming smile as you nodded at Iruka to let it happen. Iruka sighed before dropping his hands. “Okay, just be careful with him-”

“Ya ya, Iruka sensei, I won't drop my little brother,” Naruto huffed as he rose from the ground. He positioned Yuto on his side, letting him curl into him as he took off toward your home. Iruka shot you a look, almost as if saying, ‘I told you so’ without saying it out loud. You rolled your eyes before grabbing his hand.

“Ya ya, I know… I was being silly.”

[galadrieljones]

Zabel Interview, Team Delusional Round-up, re: the past few weeks (months?) 💫

(Based on an ask from @natural-blue-26! This post contains spoilers, pertaining to the script leak. If you don't want them, turn back!!)

First, let me say that @twdmusicboxmystery has posted an excellent video covering this topic over at her youtube channel. This post is jumping off of that, with some additional takes and analysis by me!

Also, note that I wanted to wait to post or to talk about this too much publicly until today, as I think there are a lot of genuine shippers who might be let down right now. Not all c*rylers are unhappy, unruly people. Many are shippers just like us, and even though I don't ship it, I support them. I am only putting this in the Team Delusional tag, so anyone who sees this is seeing it either because they follow me, follow the tag, follow someone who follows me, or they went looking for it themselves. I am not making drama or inciting a "ship war." If you're here out of anger, I suggest you turn back. I am just going to go over what I see.

The Facts

There has been a recent spate of events that have lead Team Delusional to a rare and more than modest resurgence. Until now, we were mostly just working with templates and symbolism, with a healthy dose of informed meta and speculation: We were seeing how the season 4/5 template was beginning to unfold toward the Grady arc, which includes Carol in a major role.

BUT. Let's check in with what's been going on over the past six months. A lot of this new resurgence starts with Emily's multiple trips to Europe for TWD cons in the past six months, integrated with her (yet unrealized) insinuation that she has been in studio recording one or more songs that Beth sang on TWD. Massive financial burdens aside, these are unusual undertakings for Emily. While she has done many fan cons over the years, visiting Europe twice in a four month period is bizarre (as well as expensive). She also talked openly and excitedly in the panel at French comic-con about how cool it would be if Beth returned. Further, Emily's "re-recording" of "Parting Glass" and possibly other TWD songs was a fairly big announcement for us at the time, but we haven't seen any more on it since. Speculation went everywhere from "She'll be singing in a flashback in Daryl Dixon season 2" to "Her songs will be part of the soundtrack" to "She'll actually BE in season 2, singing, in the present moment."

A lot of these things, if they were spread out over a 5 year period, wouldn't matter at all. But the fact that they're all taking place in the six-month run-up to Daryl Dixon s. 2, when we've already been able to speculate her tenuous return based on templates and other tells, is exciting. It's been almost ten years to the day of Beth's *death.* Why now? The timing on all of this is very suspicious.

Now, a few weeks ago, there was a LEAKED SCRIPT excerpt, which was claimed to be the final scene of DD 2.6. In the script, we learn that Isabelle has died and is appearing to Daryl in the form of a hallucination while he fights walkers in the Chunnel. This was confusing for many reasons. First, we already know, given their ruthless advertisement of the fact, that season 3 is already being filmed in Spain. So why are they headed to England? Also, where the hell is Laurent? Further, Isabelle's death, while unsurprising to many of us, creates some new questions. Many members of a certain *other* ship were ecstatic to learn about Isabelle's death, as Daryl/Isabelle ship rumors have been rampant in the fandom basically since season 1. Forget the fact that the same ship FREAKED out over Daryl/Leah three years ago (a clear nothingburger). Any time another female character even comes into contact with Daryl, a notable portion of fans must make their "displeasure" widely known.

Moving on. Yesterday, an article came out summarizing a yet-unreleased interview with David Zabel in SFX magazine. You can read it here. In the interview, Zabel makes the following comment about "C*ryl":

"The obvious thing to do, and the easier thing to do would be, 'Okay, now they're falling in love and they're a couple.' But I always felt like that would be a mistake, because it would feel like you were going into the TV book of tricks," he explains. "To me, there was never a question that [their connection] was something other than what it is, and what it seems to want to be, and why it works so well."

Zabel then goes on to hint at a highly-contentious romance with Daryl and Isabelle:

"What happened in season one was that you could see a connection forming, for sure," he says. "We didn't manufacture that but we left room for it. A lot of season two is about the development of that and where that relationship goes, and that little surrogate family of Isabelle, Daryl and Laurent."

Now, the full interview doesn't come out until September 4, at which point, we may get a clearer picture of what's going on. However, it seems that Zabel is politely declining the "C*ryl as romance" narrative. In the quote, he uses the excuse of wanting to avoid TV tropes; however, he then goes on to say (in a portion of the quote that is being wildly misinterpreted among the c*ryl ship) that "To [him]," there was "never a question that [their connection was something other than what it is." He then equates "what it is" with "what it seems to want to be" and "why it works so well." The misinterpretation is coming with that second part. "What it is" = friendship. Zabel is clearly saying that c*ryl "seems to want to be" exactly "what it is," aka: a sacred friendship and nothing more. He's basically saying that this already "works so well," and so why fix what ain't broke? Why create a romance between two characters who are clearly just very, very good friends when he could go another, more interesting direction?

Certain c*ryl accounts have misinterpreted that section of the quote. They seem to think he's saying that the c*ryl ship "seems to want to be" something else, something other than what it is. But if you follow the grammatical logic of the sentence, you can see that they're wrong here. It wants to be what it already is, which is friendship. Of course, to c*rylers, what it already is = romance, but that isn't canon. There's no proof of this. In fact, there's more proof to the contrary, that they're best friends. They're family. Carol was married to somebody else, raised a child with him, still holds a contentious relationship with the other man, allowed Daryl to toil away in the woods alone for five years because she needed to stay with her husband...

In addition to factual evidence from the show, the C*ryl Friendship Campaign has been going strong on social media for MONTHS. In her video this morning, twdmusicboxmystery also goes over quasi-recent comments from Angela Kang which are UNSUPPORTIVE of a c*ryl romance. The notion that this perspective is coming out of nowhere, which some fans are claiming as a way of blaming Zabel for either lying or betraying his fanbase (and the actors), is, frankly, absurd.

Please note that I'm not saying that nobody should ship c*ryl just because it isn't canon. That would be silly. I ship non-canon ships all the time. BETHYL is a non-canon ship! I've written whole fanfics for Beth and Daryl (well, I've tried lol, but most remain unfinished). It's one of the funnest parts of being in a fandom.

What I'm saying is that c*ryl is NOT CANON. It never has been. And the people who get angry about this, who want to get professionals fired over this, who think that they're entitled to getting exactly what they want, lest the show perish, are wrong. They're doing it wrong. It's totalitarian and, frankly, obsessive. This is not how you be in a fandom, and my interpretation here of the Zabel interview in conjunction with the C*ryl Friendship Campaign is that they are TRYING to let this highly volatile and frankly unpleasant faction of the fandom down lightly in an effort to get them off tptb's AND the actors' backs. They don't want to deal with this shit anymore. And by the way, they're actually not leading anyone on. They've been insanely clear here, in their rebranding of c*ryl to a platonic ship, as to what's happening and what's going on, and while I really do feel for the good people who may feel let down by this, I am GLAD to see that the showrunners aren't going to heed the demands of one tiny, loud faction of a giant fandom, and that despite the haters, they're going to tell the story they want to tell.

ANYWAY.

Over the past 48 hours, things have gotten...weird. Zabel's interview dropped less than a day after the TWD Skybound social media accounts appear to have...posted a Bethyl edit out of nowhere. @sweetz1919 also posted early this morning, bringing together a few more Beth-related posts on either official accounts or *near* official accounts, which post promotional material, and which are followed by AMC TWD. One of these posts is a repost on twitter by Scott Gimple, who so rarely posts on social media, that any time he does, it's like a unicorn, symbolically notable and certainly important.

Now, pertaining to the Zabel interview, another wide complaint taking place in the c*ryl camp is that Zabel is likely LYING or he is being taken grossly out of context, because if c*ryl isn't happening, AND Isabelle is going to die, then how could Daryl POSSIBLY get his happy ending?

THIS is where Team Delusional comes in. Of course, we have our theories. Most people think WE'RE the delusional ones. And maybe we are! Lol. I don't really care. Most of our theories are crafted through a TON of hard, circumstantial, pattern-driven, and symbolic evidence, evidence taken from IRL sources, and hypotheses made after paying very close attention to what's been going on and making LOTS and LOTS of connections over a period of many years. Me, myself, I've only been here for four, but some of you guys have been doing this for almost ten, and for that, I salute you! As I said earlier, TD has been theorizing Beth's "return" in DD2 based greatly on symbolic and template-driven evidence alone for a while. A lot of what we're seeing now on social media is playing directly into our hand.

Emily in Europe multiple times in a 4mo period, including a trip to Paris, with her latest stint being just a week before "official" filming for season 3 was set to begin? Emily re-recording tracks from TWD? Leaked script pages in which Daryl mentions Beth specifically AND suggest that Isabelle is going to die? Romantic!C*ryl = not happening? HOW could Daryl possibly get his happy ending now? The rest is TD theory, ie: WHY we think Beth will come back to manifest Daryl's "happy ending." Speculation and theories on how she could come back, the connection to Spain/England/France, that's basically all we talk about lol, each of us with our own interests and niche perspectives, all arriving at the same point.

SO while there is still no proof that she is coming back, all of this is a Good thing, actually. For us. Because while everyone is looking around, freaking out, wondering what's going to happen next, we are seeing and able to read a LOT of signs that others ignore. And rightly so! There's no reason the rest of the GA needs to think that Beth is legitimately coming back. That would overshadow Carol's role in season 2, which is significant. It's just important that the GA REMEMBERS who Beth IS, that she was important to Daryl, and that hey, people used to really like Beth, and they liked Beth and Daryl together, and that was hopeful, and nice for him, and he hasn't had much "hope" or "niceness" since, and wouldn't it be nice if he could have that again...? All of these things are really there to do just this: let the c*ryl ship down easy, and remind people that Daryl once held a very strong connection to a woman whose life "ended" too soon, and who has really never been mentioned again.

While I really have no idea what's coming next, I wonder if we'll begin to see more astroturfed discussion on Beth's *death.* How weird it was, what the hell was going on at Grady, etc. If we don't see it in promotional material, we may hear about it in-show. Because if Daryl is casually mentioning Beth (along with Merle and Glenn) to Isabelle's ghost/vision in episode 2.6, then this likely implies that he's told her about Beth before, and that he's talked to her about what happened. It implies that Isabelle knows who Beth is, which would be a truly insane development, since he's literally never talked about her to anyone, including Carol, as far as we know.

So anyway, as usual, we should all just keep our heads down, chins to our chest, keep hope alive, but with a balanced sense of anticipation. We still really don't know what's going to happen, so it's important to be rational, but it also won't hurt to have a little faith 💫