#it's more purple than she expected but i am happy about that

[thoughtfulfiction]

Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. ���So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

[nikkisheep]

To Be Alone With You

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader

Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst

I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)

Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.

Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.

When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.

The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.

A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.

---

Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.

"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."

Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''

"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.

Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"

In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.

"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.

"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.

Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.

"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.

"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.

You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.

"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.

"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."

You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.

You looked at him.

"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.

"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.

"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.

Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.

---

You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.

Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.

"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.

"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.

Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.

"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.

"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.

"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.

"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.

"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.

"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.

"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"

"Perhaps."

----

Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.

He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.

"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.

"Where is it?"

You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.

"You...You have my mallet, I believe."

"I do?" You inquired.

"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."

"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.

"Did she?"

"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.

"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.

He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.

His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.

"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."

He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?

"Lord Bridger-"

"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.

"My lord-"

"Anthony."

"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.

"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."

Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.

"You followed me here.''

"You ran here."

"You chased me."

"You took my mallet."

"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."

He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.

"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.

"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."

"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."

His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.

His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"You want something, I can sense it."

You shudder.

"And what would that be, my lord?"

"You want me," He said lowly.

"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.

"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.

"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."

"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."

You take in a ragged breath.

"Desire me?"

"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"

"To get your mallet?"

"No, so I can have you."

" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."

---

Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.

---

The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.

Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.

Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.

Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.

Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.

Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.

You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.

"My lord-"

"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.

He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.

He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.

"I want you," He admits.

He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.

"You are engaged to my sister," You say.

"Not yet."

"But-"

"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."

Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.

Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.

Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.

"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.

"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.

"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"

He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.

"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.

"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.

"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."

He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.

"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.

He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.

"Oh, my lord-"

"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.

Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.

He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.

"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.

"I'm more than okay."

He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.

You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.

"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.

"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.

"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.

Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.

"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.

"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.

Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.

"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.

"Won't we get caught?"

"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.

"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."

"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."

"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.

"Not yet. We might get caught."

"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.

"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.

"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.

He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.

''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.

"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.

The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.

He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[miss-bushido]

make the world safe and sound for you

written for @softsteddieseptember week 3, prompt ‘anniversary’

Rating: G

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

Steve pressed his face to the pillow and groaned. “No, my head hurts. Come back later.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Eddie murmured, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s temple, smoothing back some flyaway strands. “How late were you up?”

Steve groaned, tapping his fingers on the bed as he counted in his head. “Last time I saw the clock it said 4:30 AM.” He had been pulling all-nighters while working to get his Master’s degree. He was only a few months away from being finished with the program, and he just wanted to see the back of it.

Eddie winced. It was 7:30 AM. Normally, Steve would be up by 6 AM, ensuring he would see first thing the text messages or emails from his boss asking him to sub for one of the teachers at a local school. Eddie grabbed Steve’s phone and winced again. There were three missed calls from his boss, and a flurry of text messages.

“I’m making an executive decision,” Eddie announced, sitting on the bed behind Steve. “I’m telling your boss that you’re sick and that you won’t be able to sub anywhere today.”

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands. “No, I can-”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re talking out of your ass. You need to rest. You can’t expect to be effective with less than 3 hours of sleep.” Eddie put his fingertip to Steve’s plush lips to silence any further protests. “I’ll call her and let her know you’re sick, and that you should be more than fine come Monday morning. When was the last time you took a Friday off?”

Steve blinked, his eyes heavy and scratchy from lack of sleep. “Almost two years ago.”

“Exactly. So. Since you’re not going to work today, go back to sleep. I don’t want to see you downstairs before 9:30 AM, clear?”

In spite of how exhausted he was, Steve felt his stomach flutter at the tone Eddie used. “Yes, sir.”

Eddie smirked, unable to resist giving him a kiss. “Let’s save that for tonight, okay?”

“Daddy?” came a small, sleepy voice from the hallway. The bedroom door was pushed open to reveal their toddler daughter Rosie standing there, clutching her stuffed duck. “We’re thirsty,” she said, her voice low and rough in her throat. Her twin brother, Theo, was with her as he always was, clutching her purple sleep shirt with his left hand, his right thumb in his mouth.

Eddie’s heart swelled to look at them. He and Steve had thought long and hard about children after their marriage, and though they were fine with adoption, they wanted to try and have biological children of their own. Obviously, neither of them could get pregnant (not for lack of trying), so they spoke to the women in their lives; Nancy, Robin, Chrissy, Vickie, to see if any of them would be willing to either donate one of their eggs or become a surrogate, or both.

In the end, Chrissy said she would do both for them: donate her eggs, and be a surrogate. It was almost immediate that she became pregnant with the twins. When they were born, Eddie cried harder than he ever had in his life at seeing their chubby cheeks and bright eyes. He couldn’t believe it was three years ago that their little family was completed.

“You’re thirsty?” Eddie asked, holding his arms out for both of them to come in. Theo broke into a big toothy grin and ran over to jump on Eddie, his light brown hair bouncing . Both Steve and Eddie loved their children equally, and they knew the twins loved them the same as well. But Theo seemed to have an affinity for Eddie: following him around and looking very interested when he practiced his guitar. He even accompanied Eddie to some band rehearsals, but never to one of their shows. Maybe when he was older. He listened with rapt attention as Eddie read to them: The Hobbit, the Redwall books, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the paintings he did, while rudimentary, were clearly influenced by the stories.

Rosie could frequently be found snuggling with Steve: she liked putting barrettes in his hair, painting his nails and putting lipstick on him. Whenever they had a tea party, she put a silver tiara on him and a pair of ruby clip on earrings, telling him, "Papa looks so pretty."

How could Steve resist? How could either of them resist?

While her brother went to Eddie, she toddled over to the other side of the bed. She tossed her stuffed duck up and clambered up, crawling over to Steve. She looked the most like Eddie: she had his brown doe eyes and the waves of her hair were like his, though she took after Chrissy in terms of her strawberry blonde hair color, and the way she smiled. “Papa?” she asked, looking down at Steve. “No work today?”

Steve looked up sleepily at his daughter, unable to stop the big smile spreading across his face. “Not today, baby. Papa stayed up too late doing school work.”

“That’s silly,” she said, collapsing dramatically against the pillows. Steve had seen Eddie do that exact same thing more than a few times, and it always made him laugh.

“Papa is silly, Duck,” he admitted, quickly reaching forward and pulling her close, blowing raspberries on her neck, her shrieking giggles filling the air. He still had a headache, and her shrieks of glee were not helping, but he could bear it.

“I keep telling him that,” Eddie said as he sat back down, Theo leaning against him. Theo had Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, but they were turning more towards green the older he got. His hair was dark brown and straight, and though he was quieter than his sister, the smile he had was pure Eddie. Both of them worried they would have a little hell-raiser on their hands as he got older and got more confidence.

“‘M still thirsty, Daddy,” Theo murmured against Eddie’s chest. He looked up at Eddie with his big eyes. “Choccy milk?”

“For breakfast?” Eddie replied in mock shock and awe. Theo immediately started giggling, tilting his head back as he watched Eddie perform. “There will be chaos if we move choccy milk time to morning instead of dinner.”

“Pleeeeease?” Theo pleaded. “Please Daddy?”

“Yeah! Pleeeeease?” Rosie shouted, jumping up from laying next to Steve, all but throwing herself on Eddie’s back.

“Oh! Attacked on both sides! The treachery! The betrayaaaal!” Eddie kept his left arm firmly wrapped around Theo before he hooked his right arm back to wrap around Rosie. He stood up, both of them in his arms. “Steve! Don’t just lay in bed! Save meeeee!” He yelled this while moving quickly out of the bedroom, giving Steve a knowing glance as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

Steve laughed at the display of his little family, though he was grateful that Eddie managed to get them out of the room and leave him in peace. He didn’t see his phone on the bed, so Eddie must have taken it with him. Which was good, as it meant he could fall back to sleep like Eddie wanted him to.

A few hours later, Steve woke up, feeling the warmth of a small body against his chest. He opened his eyes to see Theo snuggled up against him, snoring lightly. Behind him, Rosie and Eddie were also asleep. Both had their mouths open slightly, right arms above their heads as they slept.

“Happy anniversary,” he whispered, feeling happy tears well in his eyes.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Xavier: Galaxy Hands | SFW

Look at me. LOOK AT ME. I dun wanna hear nufin about bad typos in this one. I just got my nails done yesterday and they're so long in comparison to how they normally are. I am learning how to type all over again and ya...this was written in fifteen minutes.

Pairings Xavier x Reader Warnings None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

```You had decided, for once, to treat yourself. To paint your nails despite knowing that while working tomorrow they would probably get ruined in some way. You knew your job wasn't exactly one where you could have fancy nails, so you felt it simple. Instead of going somewhere, you opted to just do it yourself.

Xavier hadn't questioned it when you showed up to his home with a small box in hand, nor did he ask why you were setting things up in his living room. Instead he just sat and watched as you got out the polishes and began working on your hands.

He was snacking, enjoying some pocky while watching you from the couch. The way you were sat on the floor, relaxed, and just focused on the task. It was relaxing for you, the small motions, waiting for it to dry between coats, and then finishing it. It had taken a good half hour, and the entire time the apartment was basked in silence.

When you finally looked at them, you smiled. It was simple, a black undercoat with a holographic purple and blue on top of it. The way the top coat made it shine had you staring at them for a little longer than you normally would.

Then you felt a hand taking your own and you looked to see Xavier. He was staring at the design on your hand with a gentle look in those beautiful blue eyes of his, "It looks like a starry sky." he finally said, breaking the silence that had been there since you had first come over.

"I know, I wasn't expecting it. This is the first time I tried this polish." You admitted. You had expected it to look nice, but you hadn't expected to have a literal galaxy on your nails when you had finished them.

You blushed when Xavier brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss onto the knuckles of your hand. Your nails were, at this point, mainly dry, but he was still being so delicate with them that it surprised you.

"I like them." He finally said, "Why don't you paint your nails for often? You're pretty good at it." he noted as he looked them over. It was like he was transfixed on your hands at the moment and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"I mean, they'll just be ruined tomorrow while I'm at work. Doesn't make sense to do them every day." you pointed out and he nodded.

"Aren't there ways to make them last longer?" his finger were gently playing with your hand as he looked at you. "I know I've seen Tara with her nails done a few times." what he really meant was how he had seen Tara shoving her hands in your face before to gush about her nails, but that was neither here nor there.

"I mean I guess if I got them done professionally with a gel or something they'd last longer." You murmured.

"Then how about on your next day off you do that?" Xavier suggested, "It's clear you like your nails like this."

"I feel like you're enjoying them more." you pointed out, taking your hand away from his to gently bop his nose with one finger. He gave you an amused smile as he took your hand back and placed it on his cheek.

"I do. We can go together if you'd like." he said and you gave him a questioning glance.

"Oh, and are you going to get your nails done as well?" You pinched his cheek and he gave you a soft smile.

"Perhaps. Would it make you happy if I did?"

You took a moment to think about it. Xavier did have pretty hands, and his nail bed was long. Even if he kept his nails short, there was a lot you could do with them. "Ya, I think it would. I'll ask Tara where she goes tomorrow and make an appointment for us." you said as you leaned down. You pressede a quick kiss to his nose and he looked at you with a pout.

"You missed…" he muttered, and before you could ask what he meant, his lips were pressing against your own. You hummed into it, savoring the feeling of his mouth on yours as he pulled away, "There, that's better." he said, then quickly kissed your cheek. He went to grab your hand again, staring at the color for a moment more, "Now…how about we get some dinner."```

[rpgchoices]

Very short non spoiler review of Veilguard act 1

I played only to chapter 8, which should be still in act 1, but I am not going to add any spoilers. This is a very generic bulletpoint list of opinions.

GAMEPLAY

Intro is great, art is pretty good too, even the characters

combat is very fun, but I still preferred Inquisition combat

the world is extremely empty. There is one or two talking npc for each faction and that is. Secondary characters do not exist. Quests are all generic (ex. Random nameless character "hey, this person disappeared, can you find them?" with no extra story or explanation)

barely any animals or surprises in the world. The only exploration factor is looking at landscapes and doing some puzzles

there are only three type of puzzles: move object into place to activate door, destroy blight to free door to open, destroy crystal to free door to open. That is it.

choices that matters are identified by the game with a sign, and you will also have a sign that will let you know which dialogue was affected by what

loved the jumping around and the sliding down

you can pet any cat or dog

the world feels empty, empty of lore, empty of characters, empty of animals, quests, people

CHARACTERS

companions are the only characters in the whole game, plus a few associated characters to them

barely any banter and the only banter present is very superficial or more on the funny side

good thing is that if banter is interrupted by a combat it will continue later

my favorite part was seeing characters talk and interact in the lighthouse

do not expect cameo, and if there are cameo they are very short and very generic

companions are very good, very kind, very nice, with little consistency between their characterization and how they behave (ex. Neve is a detective, but she never asks anything or acts differently from other characters or even seem interested in what is going on)

companions seem almost flanderized, with mainly one character trait each

dialogue is sometimes extremely clunky, with "textbook answers" that seem written with AI instead of a writer. It is all "tell, do not show", so it is more likely that a character says "I am shaken" over actually showing how they feel

characters seem to act often like exposition machines, and knows things they definitely should not know

ROOK / PLAYER

amazing character creation options

I played as elf and it has little reactivity, maybe a bit less than Inquisition

the faction has more reactivity, and there are multiple dialogues with your companions about it, mainly little comments that make it feels like Rook has a backstory (much better than inquisition)

Rook facial expressions and movements are a bit strange sometimes, making it seems like he is always smiling and happy even when he should not be

the "purple" dialogue options are a bit meh, definitely not as funny as DA2, and I think "red" might fit more (in my attempt to try and make a more serious Rook)

you cannot really shape Rook's personality

also you cannot disagree with your companions, there is no dialogue choice to disagree or fight with them like in previous games. Most of the dialogue seems to be divided in a few categories: Exposition requests; Flirting; Supportive comment; Joking comment but still supportive.

STORY AND QUESTS

It does not feel like Dragon Age.

The game take theories and secret information from previous games and make it the standard world knowledge

there is no urgency

side quests are forgettable

story is very weirdly paced

each companion has a post-recruitment quest to know them

factions and world seems sanitized. We do not hear about the darker side of the Crows, or about Tevinter's slavery if not in passing

the story is okay but would have benefitted A LOT from hiding the villains and introducing them later. When I say a lot I mean from a 6/10 game to a 8/10 game.

also never thought I would say this, but I miss the Chantry. There is barely any mention of any lore

also only three choices matter - but do they? it felt like everything was a blank state

ROMANCES

By the end of act 1 you can still flirt with everyone.

A lot of flirting options for all characters and if you skip some of them you still get the next ones

I had no romance specific scene yet so it looks like you can flirt with everyone for quite a while before deciding

the flirting is all very PG13 and it is more allusions than actual overt flirting (I mainly flirted with Davrin and Emmrich)

for now I have seen no characters flirting with each other's

I think around chapter 7 and onwards the pacing gets much better, and the writing of the quests a bit more interesting. It honestly felt like a different game in some parts, and I have no idea what happened there. It feels like the game is:

Amazing prologue, probably the best DA prologue yet

First recruitment character and first mission - completely downhill with writing

Pretty slow and weird paced then until chapter 7-8

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Kinktober day 4 and 5 Pregnancy and Handjobs

Pairing: Maegor Targaryen x chubby fem reader

Summary: Maegor love his wife, and cannot tell her no.

Warning: Masturbation, male character receiving handjobs from fem reader, pregnancy, p in v

---

Maegor has always been considered as a cruel man, even sadistic. It is true that he loved war and torturing his enemies, but it allowed him to secure the Targaryen lineage, so that everyone knew that the Targaryen would not let themselves be in case of an uprising. At least on his side of the line.

The only thing that was wrong for Maegor was the lack of an heir, he had become so desperate that even a daughter could be his heir. He had taken several wives, but none of the six women had brought him a viable heir. He was on the verge of going crazy, when he met the one who changed his life. The one he fell in love with.

So, the day his sweet wife became pregnant, who thought he would become even more raid crazy about her?

Maegor no longer slept with his other wives and preferred to stay with Y/n, from the moment he learned that she had no more her blood moon, until the first signs of pregnancy. Maegor was so in love with her that he refused to let servants whom he had not questioned loyalty approach her, and even less outside of his presence. Whatever she could ask for, she had. Even if it was to carry snow from the north for some reason, it would have.

What Maegor least expected was the libido of Y/n, this surprised him when she became more seductive as the weeks went by. None of his other wives had shown such interest in him, no one had attached to him, asked for kisses at every opportunity, nor even interrupted any of the small council, in the middle of a war council just so she can have physical contact with Maegor. That afternoon, she sat on Maegor’s legs, while snuggling up in his muscular arms.

"I love you..."

It was the first time that Maegor said this words to her, y/n looked at him before smiling at him, a sincere and happy smile, in front of the stress that Maegor showed.

"I love you too."

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me... and knowing that you’re carrying my child."

Y/n took Maegor’s face in the hollow of her hands, caressing his cheeks covered with his cut beard. While looking into his purple eyes.

"You are my light in the darkness of this world, my warrior. I am no longer afraid of anything when I am by your side."

Maegor smiled at her words, the love he felt for her was about to overflow.

"You don’t know what you do to me..."

"Happy?"

"Not just that"

"Horny?"

"I am always, especially with you" Maegor laughs softly.

"Hm... I give my tongue to the dragon"

"You make me better, you accept how I am, my cruelty, and do not judge me... I would do anything to protect you and our child." He helped her to get up. "You are the only one who does not hate me, who really desires me"

Maegor let out a beginning of laughter before it was stopped by a moan of pleasure. He grabbed Y/n’s hip and then slipped his hand along her round leg. As he passed along the inside of her leg, he could feel that it was wet. He grunted, before turning Y/n, she emitted a small moan, for not being in contact with his hard cock. This disappointed groan turned when he entered in a fluid movement.

Y/n grabbed her pillow, while Maegor moved, moving arms that were below him, at the level of the pillows, y/n looked up and saw the hand of Maegor. She shuddered when his second hand was placed at the level of her belly.

"You’re so hot, love, I could eat you."

"Ma... Maegor..."

"Shh... it’s all right, just relax..."

She groaned even more when Maegor began to move his hips, entering into her, his tips touching her g-spot with every movement.

"Ah!... Ma... Maegor..."

Maegor moved faster and faster, while placing kisses at the neck and neck ofY/n.

"I... I’m going..."

"It’s okay, let it go..."

Their breaths were heavy and fast, the crackle of wood bed audible throughout the room. In less than a second, Y/n managed to reach her point of no return, Maegor followed closely. It may not have been their longest session, but it didn’t matter as long as they were both in each other’s presence and in love.

[callmelola111]

color me purple ♡ part two

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.3k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some fluff but mostly angsty, HEAVY sexual themes on the verge of smut, swearing, slight mention of marijuana, ellie is kinda a perv, ellie calls foot fetishes weird so if u have one i'm sorry lol not trying to kink shame its just for the plot !!

a/n: happy wednesday y'all!! i was literally kicking my feet while writing this hehe. i love being a delulu lesbian on paper. also i've never played poker before so if i worded something wrong i am so sorry lolz. sending hugs and kisses 2 you all ♡~ lola

Mrs. Campbell seemed taller this evening as she stood waiting to confront you with your fate. The moon shone brightly casting her long, mangled shadow across the dirt. As she spoke, your gaze remained locked to it, avoiding the disappointed look you knew was written all over her face. 

“What do you two think you’re doing?!?” she yelled. You struggled to form any words with the large lump consuming your throat. Your stomach would’ve dropped too but you were pretty sure you had lost it during your barefoot dash through the woods. Ellie stood next to you just as silent until your devastated face clued her into your current state. She quickly tried to rationalize, speaking for the both of you. 

“Mrs. Campbell, we're so, so sorry. Seriously, it was all my fault, please don’t blame Y/n!” You softened hearing Ellie so quickly take the fall. Feeling compelled to finally join this tense confrontation, you looked up from the ground. Your eye’s met with the wardens but they were filled with concern rather than fury as you had expected. Your injuries had alluded to a situation that she felt needed a bit more context.

“I’m just trying to figure out how you two ended up here bloody, wet, and 2 hours past curfew!” she said. With the guidance of Ellie you calmly explained the situation. Of course, it wasn’t the full truth. You took extra care to leave out the part about your little smoke sesh. And after what felt like hours of questioning and nagging, you and Ellie were given the benefit of the doubt, remaining counselors for the summer.

Mrs. Campbell gave her final say, “You girls better count your blessings. I’m feeling nice tonight. But, I can’t let your behavior go unpunished. Neither of you will be participating in tomorrow's first round of games. I'll take your campers under my wing while you two think about your behavior back at the cabins. Alone.” Tears welled in your eyes as you came to terms with the consequences of your actions. Ellie shifted her gaze to your heartbroken expression and the corners of her mouth turned down. Sure it was just one day of sitting out, but she knew how much the competition meant to you and felt like a total piece of shit for making you miss out. Even if it wasn’t completely her fault. 

“That’s final. Now both of you please go wash up and stop making me worry!” Mrs. Campbell concluded.

You and Ellie made the 5 minute walk to the showers in silence, still shaken up from the recent events. Despite the water’s icy temperatures, it felt nice to wash off the evidence of your night living on the wild side. However, Ellie showered one space over with little emotional relief, too consumed by you. She just stood idle as the sharp drops of H2O hit her back. Questioning how you felt about her, if you were mad, and what you were thinking but wouldn’t say.

She couldn’t take it anymore and quickly switched off the water, drying off with a rough gray towel. You followed in suit, stepping out wrapped in your pink towel. The textured fabric wrapped tightly over your breasts hoisting the mounds up to peak over the linen. They sat pretty like a Victorian woman in a tight corset. Ellie, now in a fresh pair of clothes, kept her head forward but eyed you from her peripherals before finally speaking.

“I’m so sorry… I don’t even know what to say. I never wanted to get you in trouble.” She looked absolutely miserable, so convinced you hated her. You’d never seen this side of Ellie before. A side that was real and vulnerable. You had always pinned her as this impenetrable tough guy, never seeming bothered by anything. And now here you were, bothering her. What was so special about you, why did she care?

“Ellie, I’m not mad at you, just a little sad. This was my choice as much as it was yours.”

Ellie turned to you, voice breaking, “Wait… really?” Part of her felt like an idiot for bringing it up now, considering it was all in her head, but you didn’t think twice about giving her the reassurance she seeked.

“Yes, really.” Ellie gave a timid smile slanting to one side and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that her assumptions were just a product of overthinking. 

“Now please, stop being so melodramatic and help me patch up all these stupid cuts.” You took a seat on the long bench placed in the tiled bathroom and Ellie followed like a humble servant. She got down on her knees like she owed it to you. Taking a wet cloth in her right hand and carefully cleaning your cuts one by one. Her touch was gentle, almost too much, but she didn't want to hurt you. You took pleasure in Ellie’s tender care and couldn’t help but wonder if she’s like this with all her friends. Even more, you questioned if it’s something you should be enjoying as much as you did. Ellie took her sweet time rinsing out the dirt from your wounds that you had acquired as an unwanted souvenir. Tending to your injuries gave her more time to study all of your nooks and crannies. Something she had only dreamed of. Ellie enjoyed every second until she reached your thighs, your gorgeous plush thighs. She observed as your pink towel bunched at the abdomen before splitting down the sides of your legs in a triangle-like formation. Mind hazy with desire, she couldn’t help but yearn for the other body parts under that towel that she wished to tend to. Ellie internally slapped herself for the heat that followed her nasty thoughts and her tour of your body was cut short. Following the clean, she took some Neosporin to smooth across the bigger gashes that covered your knees and elbow. You winced at the friction.

“It really got you good huh,” she teased, “maybe you can lie and say you got attacked by a bear or something.”

“No, not a bear,” your eyes rolling, “just Ellie Willaims and her antics.” 

“Oh shut up, you had fun.” You didn’t say anything back, just gave a smile, because you knew Ellie was right. As much as you wanted to be upset about how everything went down and how you were so easily influenced by her, you just couldn’t. Maybe because you knew she had no ill intent, or maybe you were beginning to realize that breaking rules wasn’t so bad- perhaps, it was even a little fun. 

You woke up early the next day with everyone else, despite your impromptu grounding. Although you yearned for sleep, the sun shone too bright and the girls chatter, too loud. You pulled the scratchy covers of your twin bed up, making it semi-nice for your next sleep. A sleep you looked forward to, as it signaled the end of this awful day. But, with the cabin overcome by girlish excitement it was hard to remain in such a sour mood. You ventured to the top of an empty but rickety bunk bed to observe the members of team red from above. It was like watching a village of little ants running around prepping for the day ahead. Some flew out the screen door to shower, a few braided each other's hair, and all of them finished dressed up in color coordinating outfits.

As 9:30 am approached, you wrapped up your finishing touches to the last few stragglers with silky hair ribbons and red face paint. By 9:40, the once bustling room was empty and the silence was loud. In an attempt to occupy your wandering mind you cracked open a Nancy Drew book, the 3rd in its series. The crisp pages slid between your fingers as the mystery consumed you, but it wasn't long before your peace was interrupted.

A peculiar knocking sound tore you from the novel opened in your hands. Setting it down on your green and pink bedding, you ventured to your dirty window to scope out the inexplicable noise. On the other side of the glass stood Ellie, like a kid, throwing rocks at your window. You stared out the gray panes that divided her in four, rolling your eyes at the audacity of it all. She continued her little performance pulling out a janky sign written in dried out blue marker. It read I'm bored… You pretend to be distraught at the news, playing into her little game. Ellie then flipped the sign over to show you the back where she had scribbled the words Do U wanna hangout? and then some idiotic smiley face to complete the message. Ellie’s own face mimicked the emoticon as she displayed all her teeth like a child on picture day. It was stupid and cheesy and it was kinda working.

The sign continued to waver in the wind as you consulted the imaginary angel and devil that lurked on your shoulders. You finally answered Ellie (whose arms were getting tired) through the window with a simple middle finger and yanked the curtains closed knowing you weren’t supposed to be leaving your living quarters that day. And although you maintained a tough exterior for the sake of the bit, you felt just a little bit giddy being invited over by Ellie. That same giddiness nagged at your morals until finally you sided with the devil. Besides, everyone will be gone and too busy to catch you guys slacking off.

You rushed to the sink to brush your teeth aggressively and then changed into a red cropped shirt with a wide neck and black biker shorts that sculpted your ass perfectly. You weren’t sure why, but you had this sudden need to impress her. Her opinion now carried a weight that was foreign to you. That weight then influenced a smear of the same cherry flavored lip gloss from the night before, remembering Ellie’s thoughts on it. You slipped the tube into your bra just in case and then skipped over like the girl next door.

Ellie opened up with a smirk. Her hair was messy and despite waking up hours ago her lounge wear remained on. You didn’t mind though. Something about her toned body in a black wifebeater tank and gray sweats made you excited. 

“Well hello there.” She gestured for you to come inside. You sat in the middle of the room on an old, sage green rug. Anticipating Ellie’s next move, you pulled your scuffed up knees to your chest. She plopped down next to you and began to poke.

“I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show up.” 

You scoffed, “I mean, I hate you Ellie, but not that much.” You straightened out your right knee and gave her a little kick in the shin.

“Shut up dude. I know you love me.” Ellie nudged your shoulder and you gave a simple chuckle in response, but inside you were questioning the past feelings of distaste you once harbored for her and the new ones that replaced them. You needed a distraction.

“Sooo.. how are you gonna entertain me??” Your question sent Ellie’s mind to all kinds of places, some dirty most dirty.

“Oh? So you wanna be entertained? How about a little game of poker?”

“Poker?” you said, becoming suspicious of Ellie's seemingly normal answer but the tone of her voice was a dead giveaway to the mischievous plans.

“Well… not just any poker. I play a little differently.” You urged her to continue.

“Like different how?”

“Ever heard of strip poker?” she questioned, scrunching her freckled nose in anticipation of your response. She wouldn’t think twice about indulging in this game with other friends but it was something about you and the unspoken homoerotic nature of your relationship that made the request much more daunting.

“Oh my god Ellie,” you gave a long sigh, “Do you really wanna see me naked that bad?” Usually her face would go bright red at a comment like this but today she was prepared for your little quips, having taken the leap to propose such a game in the first place.

“No. I wanna watch you lose.” she stated bluntly. And with her words, a jolt of that familiar cutthroat attitude surged through your body along with a little arousal that you ignored, pretending it was just adrenaline. 

“Oh you’re on.” you spat. What had Ellie Williams done to you? Just days ago you would have opposed such a scenario like sneaking over to play strip poker but her dangerously seeming presence was exhilarating to you. She was a drug you just couldn’t quit. And before you could even think twice, that drug was pulling out her playing cards and popping a mixtape ← into her old cassette player.

You grew quiet and the music grew loud as you anxiously waited for Ellie to shuffle the deck. She had a classic one with the red patterned backings. The cards slotted into each other as Ellie thumbed the split stack from bottom to top. It made a satisfying noise that repeated a few more times before she dealt them out between the two of you.

The rules were simple, each chip signified an article of clothing, whoever had the worst hand lost a chip and a little bit of dignity along with it. A stack of 4 old poker chips sat in front of you balancing on the ridges of the rug. 1 for your shirt, 1 for your shorts, and 2 for each sock. Ellie had the same. You could practically feel the sweat gathering on your brow as the game began. The first round was close, Ellie with a straight and you with 3 of a kind.

She quickly snatched up one of your chips before saying, “You lose!!” 

“This is just the first round, don’t get used to it.” you replied, peeling off your left sock. Quickly you placed your other foot on top of the now bare one, hiding it from Ellie like it was something to be embarrassed of. She took note of your behavior and clarified her intentions.

“You know, I don’t have a weirdo foot fetish if that's what you’re thinking.”

“Oh my god. Shut. Up. I don’t think that, I just don’t want you looking at my feet.” You turned your face away from her, putting your hand up theatrically. Your embarrassment amused Ellie.

“Just wait till you have to take your top off.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” You tried seeming confident in your reply but your face felt hot and your hands were clammy. You didn’t want to imagine being so exposed in front of Ellie. What if she doesn’t like it? Why did it matter if she did?

“Right, we’ll see how that goes…” Ellie’s voice trailed off, letting go of your stubborn ramblings. The game continued as so; round 2: you won, round 3: you won again, round 4: Ellie won. At this point there were no more socks to take off. Your stomach twisted and turned thinking of the next possibilities. Part of you wanted to give up and take off but the other part of you wanted to stay around and see what Ellie looked like without a shirt. This confused you.

During round 5 you could hardly focus, but luck was on your side when all Ellie could present was a pair against your straight, leaving you a winner. Without a second thought she crossed her arms grabbing at the hem of her tank. Her biceps flexed with motion as she pulled it over her head revealing a black sports bra. You stared unintentionally, mouth agape.

“Like what ya see?” Ellie remarked. Your cheeks flushed red and your head shot down into your lap like a reflex. 

“Relax, we’re just friends having fun. You can look.” she continued. Right… friends. You took a deep breath in trying to calm yourself. There was still more of the game to play and a craving for victory that lingered.

The next round was brutal leaving you with a measly high card, the worst hand you could get. Before Ellie even revealed her hand, your mind was at war deciding if you should remove your pants or shirt first. This felt like so much more than a simple game of cards with a friend. I mean here you were in front of half-naked Ellie, questioning if she was more of an ass girl or if she liked tits better. After your losing cards were revealed you took a pause, twirling a stray thread around your finger that you had pulled off the rug. Just as you were settling on pants Ellie interrupted.

“If- If you dont wanna, you don’t have to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” Ellie was starting to feel guilty for roping you into her games. For her, this wasn’t about winning, it was about pleasure and that's what made her feel so bad. You were here to play poker and Ellie was just waiting to see what panties you wore that day. Such a perv. 

“NO,” your voice raised, halting Ellie’s skewed thoughts like your life depended on it. “I want to.” You stood up slowly trying to steady your shaky hands. Gently, your long fingers rimmed around the waistband of the shorts. Ellie sat criss-cross looking up at you like a god. The black spandex peeled off your wide hips and down your thighs at an agonizingly slow pace for Ellie. Finally reaching your knees they fell the rest of the way down, pooling at your ankles. The cool air tickled your pantie-clad privates, sending you back down to the warm spot you left on the floor.

Ellie couldn’t even speak. It was like a wet dream seeing you dressed in nothing but a crop top and some lacey, pink underwear. The heat between her legs was almost unbearable and she could feel as her slick seeped straight through the plaid boxers hidden under her sweats. Too busy with her downstairs, she failed to give you any sort of sign that would hint to the pleasure your body was giving her. You felt stupid for even wanting that from her and flipped to lay on your stomach trying to hide your nakedness. Without Ellie’s approval or encouragement you felt ashamed.

Wanting this moment of awkwardness to pass, you reached for more cards to continue to the next round. Ellie grabbed the deck before you could even reach it.

“Actually uh- we should just stop.” she said, not even able to make eye contact from how overwhelmed she was with lust. Of course, you didn’t know this and a downward spiral of thoughts began. Have you done something? Said something? What happened?

You stuttered out a “Wha- why?” Ellie continued staring down at her crotch. Her stupid crotch- that was the reason why. She knew that if she lost the next round, her sweatpants that shielded her from embarrassment would have to be removed. The large and growing wet spot of your doing was something Ellie refused to let you see. She assumed that if you were to ever discover the amount of arousal a friendly game of poker caused, you’d be disgusted and never speak to her again. 

“I just- I think you need to leave.” You blinked hard and fast, trying to swallow back any tears being provoked by Ellie’s response.

“So… I’m that ugly, huh?” you said, voice now shaking. You felt humiliated.

“No, no!! It’s not th-” 

“Save it Ellie,” you yelled, tears beginning to run down your cheeks. “This is the last time I let you make me out to be some loser idiot who falls for all your tricks! I am not ending up like all those stupid girls who you’ve fucked over!” You kicked open the swinging door taking one look back at Ellie. Her face was dumbfounded, confused, hurt. What were you saying? What was all that supposed to mean? She thought of chasing after you but knew it would be no use. You were too stubborn and upset to be talked to by Ellie, and it was quite clear that neither of you had realized what this game had meant to the other.

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[katewritesthings]

Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 2

Chapter 2 // How to Touch a Girl

•warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

The first time Diana woke up the morning after her birthday was actual torture, she was sure. The need to empty her bladder caused her to wake far earlier than she would have liked, early morning light barely making it through the blackout curtains that decorated her bedroom. The redhead carefully disentangled herself from the limbs of her sister and friend and climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone from beside her on the bed. Making her way to the ensuite bathroom, Diana immediately regretted unlocking her device for two reasons. First the dull ache in her head made itself known the second the light hit her eyes in contrast to the dark bathroom. 6:21 AM . Second, was a series of text messages from a number not saved to her phone that she decided could wait before she absolutely exploded. After washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face, Diana braced herself and opened the text thread.

+1(617)-555-1425 9:36 PM    you look sooo good in your IG pics 11:15 PM ugh i wish i was with you rn 12:20 AM cmon di. dont be a btich text me back 1:37 AM Ungrateful bitch.  2:39 AM   i see. youre out there fuckin with someone new. Thats  wh you wont text me back. He’ll just get bored of you like I did.  2:41 AM How long before he starts fucking yor sister 

Disappointed that the Boston area code and the content of messages meant the sender was clear, Diana quickly locked her phone and dropped it on the counter. She couldn’t deal with Connor right now. Leaving her phone in the bathroom, Diana crawled back into bed, thankful that she insisted on a “sleepover” last night and wasn’t alone to spiral.

The second time Diana woke up was slightly better than the first. She was alone in bed and her headache eased to a dull thumping, a glass of water on her bedside table. Emptying the glass in one go, Diana searched for her phone. A string of curses rang through her head when she remembered the reason that it was not beside her. After a dramatic sigh, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the light, looked in the mirror for the first time that day, and groaned out loud. Light reddish-purple bruises littering her neck and collarbone were visible under the sports bra she was wearing.

Annoyed with herself, Diana picked up her phone and checked the time: 12:12 PM. When she unlocked the device the messages from Connor were still open on the screen. While the reason for his vitriol was now apparent, clues painted on her skin, it didn’t make it justified. ‘It wasn’t like I had sex with Joe,’ she thought, ‘ And even if I had, I’m single and can fuck who I want. 

Diana blocked the number but kept the text thread to show Biz later and moved on to check her other notifications, some birthday wishes from people who couldn't make it last night and a missed call from Cathy at 9:30. Diana decided could give her manager a call back later and was replying to all of the messages and comments as she walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her sister.

Biz, who was standing at the stove cooking bacon and French toast, spoke as Diana walked in eyes glued to her phone. “Gooood Morning beautiful, Happy actual birthday,” the younger woman sang in a joking manner. “Taylor left, she had to catch a flight for the awards tonight.” She paused a minute before excitedly saying, “There was a delivery for you this morning.”

Diana looked up at her last statement, confused even more at the smirk on the brunette’s face. “What delivery?”

Biz didn't respond except for pointing her spatula towards the living room, signaling Diana to investigate. Rolling her eyes, Diana did as she was told, walking farther down the hall to figure out what her sister was talking about.

She was not expecting multiple bouquets of roses placed in every nook and cranny they would fit to be decorating the living room. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, making her way toward the largest bouquet on the coffee table in the center of the room, silently counting the number of arrangements. Nine. 

‘What a strange number,’ she thought as she picked up the card attached to the large bundle of roses, looking out of place on the coffee table next to her TV remote.

Tried to get your number Cathy with no luck. Now who’s curving who? 513-555-6947 JB

Warmth filled Diana’s body as she reread the card for the third time, trying to make sense of it. Pulling up Cathy’s contact information on her phone and pressing call, she turned to see Bizz in the doorway smiling like the Cheshire Cat. 

“Soooo… who are those from?” Her tone gave her away, she already read the card.

“Fuck off,” Diana mouthed just as Cathy answered her phone, turning back to the flowers. “Cathy Allred,” the older woman answered cheerfully. “Hey, Cath, this is Di. I was just giving you a call back and wondering if you knew why there were 10 gigantic floral arrangements in my living room?” Diana greeted, attempting to keep her annoyance at her sister out of her voice.

Cathy’s throaty laugh came through the speaker and Di could imagine her expression was the same one that Biz was wearing. “Oh, honey. That handsome football player from last night was leaving messages at the buttcrack of dawn trying to weasel your number out of me. When I told him that I couldn’t clear that without your direct consent, he asked if he could send flowers to our office and have them forwarded to you if security approved the message. We just didn’t expect 9 separate bouquets.”

Diana was in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received flowers unrelated to work.

“Well, uh, thank you, Cathy. That’s all I wanted. I’ll talk to you Wednesday,” Diana ended the phone call, still staring blankly at the literal dozens of roses sitting in her house. “Soooooo,” Biz’s voice came out in her signature sing-songy tone.  “Are ya gonna text him?” 

Diana bit her lip. “Well, I guess I should, right?”

She could feel her anxiety creeping up in the back of her mind, almost like frost crystallizing on glass in the winter. The first voices of self-doubt were beginning to scream you’re not good enough for him and he’s only going to break your heart when a hand on Diana’s shoulder refocused her.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di,” Biz’s comforting words filled her ears. “He’s a really hot guy who is into you, so I’d say go for it. Texting him doesn’t mean you’re getting married next month, babe. But you were humping his leg like a dog in heat last night, so it probably would be proper etiquette to at least acknowledge his existence.” As was exiting the room laughing at her own joke as she said the last part. Diana rolled her eyes and thought about her sister’s advice. Joe really was an attractive man and all signs were pointing to him being attracted to her. Their physical chemistry last night had been off the charts and even though they didn’t discuss anything super deep, she was engrossed in the conversation, always wanting to hear what Joe had to say next. She was going to do it, she was going to text him.

She added his number to her phone and began debating how to start the conversation. After drafting and redrafting the generic ‘Hi! It’s Diana” messages for nearly two minutes, she finally settled on one that would let Joe know who she was.

Joe (Quarterback) 12:32 PM    you left before saying bye last night, i’d say you’re still curving me.

Phone in hand, Diana made her way toward the smell of brunch. Before she could even make it to the breakfast nook her phone buzzed in her hands signifying she had received a text.

Tee wasn’t feeling great, I had to dash. Let me make it up to you. I’m in NYC until Monday night.

Butterflies filled Diana’s stomach as her eyes scanned the messages she had just received. Joe didn’t leave the party because he was embarrassed by their hookup like her anxiety had been trying to convince her. He had a legitimate reason and he wanted to see her again to make up for it. Before she could let her nerves stop her, she fired off a reply to Joe

i’ll hold you to it. 😜 i’m free all day tomorrow.

 Diana didn’t even get a chance to lock her phone before a new message appeared on her screen.

Not anymore. Lunch?

She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger making her stomach turn the way it was, so she decided to load up her plate before responding. 

After eating a decent amount of brunch and taking a well-needed shower, Diana was lounging in her bed, Parks and Recreation on in the background, staring at Joe’s texts. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head about what her response should be. As much as she wanted to see Joe again, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear. Sure Joe seemed nice, but Connor seemed nice enough at first. She knew her ex had just sent the hateful texts to get under skin, but he knew which blows hit the hardest.

“Biiiiiiz! Come in here!” she shouted from her spot on the bed, in a frustrated squeal.

“What’s the matter?” The brunette questioned, popping her head through the door. “I think I agreed to hang out with Joe tomorrow and I’m scared,” Diana whined, dragging out the vowels in the word ‘scared’.

A snort came from Biz as she made her way fully into the room. “He’s a man, Di, not a monster. Why are you scared?”

Diana knew this was the moment that she should share that Connor had texted her this morning, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Instead, what came out was a pitiful gasp for air that made Biz by surprise.

“Just, what if I’m supposed to be more healed than I am,” Diana breathed, tears in her eyes. “Like, what if Joe turns out to be as good as he seems? Doesn’t he deserve more than this heartbroken version of me? I’m barely myself again, Biz.”

“I think you should at least hang out with him and see where it goes. Worst comes to worst, you guys know you’re physically into each other,” Biz teased. Diana rolled her eyes, “What if he’s expecting to fuck and I’m not ready?” Biz shot her sister a look. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di. But let’s be real, you need to get dicked down. How long has it been?” Diana rolled her eyes again, not wanting to acknowledge she was currently on the longest dry spell she’d ever had. Things in the bedroom aspect of her relationship with Connor never really met her standards, always dissatisfied. The past six months of their relationship had consisted of barely any intimacy, Connor claiming he wasn’t attracted to Diana at the moment. Turns out, he was just getting his needs met by her best friend. “You’re right,” Diana gave in, texting Joe back.

1:26 PM deal, burrow. tomorrow at noon. Italian or Mexican? Shit. Just got word that public restaurants are a no-go. its okay. we can do pizza and sweets at my place

A new fear ran through Diana’s head as soon as she heard the “swoosh” sound from her head. “What if-” Diana was cut off by her sister throwing a pillow at her face. “Shut up,” Biz said in a more serious tone than before. “I get that you’re nervous, but stop coming up with these what-ifs. Smoke about it and attempt to channel your thoughts into something productive.” With that, Biz left the room.

Diana knew her sister was right. Not only did she tend to handle her anxiety better if she was channeling it into something productive, but she was behind on writing. Cathy had told her that the songwriters she was meeting with on Wednesday were expecting the start of at least six new songs and at this point, Diana only had four songs, three of which were fragments.

Lighting a preroll from her bedside table, Diana reached for her notebook, anxiety still at full force. As she hit the joint, she began to scribble down the thoughts that were looping in her head in an attempt to get them to stop.

I know that I’m better than this heartbroken version of me What if he can't compete with the things that I'm scared of that keep love from me? I get so attached and when it ends and the comedown hits I just end up hating me The energy that it takes to be somebody’s somebody just ain’t in me.

After she had stubbed out her joint, the voice of Diana’s anxiety had dulled to a whisper and her mood had lifted considerably. When Diana looked up from her notebook and checked her phone she saw two new messages from Joe.

Awesome. Can’t wait to see you.

What are you up to?

Smiling to herself, her fingers glided across the screen to type out that she was writing, hoping it could turn into a song and returning the question. Joe must have had his phone in hand because within record time her phone was signaling a new message.

Just left lunch with the guys, can I call you?

The butterflies from earlier had returned with a vengeance accompanied by a warm flush taking over her body. Within seconds of replying with an affirmative text, her phone was ringing in her hand indicating she was receiving a FaceTime call from Joe. “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, internally cringing at her appearance in the camera. Her long hair was still wet from the shower and braided into Dutch braids down the side of her head and she had placed two star pimple patches on her forehead and chin, not expecting to see anyone but Biz. “Hey! You look great,” Joe responded, white smile beaming at Diana. He appeared to be sitting against a hotel headboard, dressed in a black Bengals hoodie. 

“No one likes a liar, Joe,” Diana smiled. “Wasn’t expecting a video call.”

“I just needed to make sure you were who you said you were,” Joe countered, smile turning into a playful grin. “Can’t be making plans to hang out with some rando, you know.” Diana rolled her eyes and placed her notebook on her bedside table, the action drawing Joe’s attention. “I’m sure girls are tripping over their own feet to eat lunch with you,” Diana let out a small laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I am myself and you have agreed to hang out with me. Now, if you’ll agree after this time, that’s a question for another day.” “Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?” Joe quirked an eyebrow, a grin still covering his beautiful mouth.

“Well, first of all, we’re getting pineapple on our pizza. Second of all, I planned on finishing my puzzle tomorrow, so you’re now getting roped into that.”

Laughter filled the speakers before Joe’s voice said, “Well, first things first, pineapple on pizza is the right decision… But a puzzle, really? What are you, 73?”

Diana was pleasantly surprised at the ease of carrying on a conversation with Joe. She had assumed that alcohol had lubricated their last interaction, but the way the conversation flowed for the next hour proved that wrong. Joe teasing her for doing puzzles led them to talk about their other hobbies which led to them talking about what started them on their careers.

“Yeah, so I’m hoping to be back by preseason, but there’s no guarantee. I just feel like I’m letting the team and the fans down, y’know,” Joe finished explaining his injury, something Diana had known the bare minimum about before this conversation. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side. “Sorry to overwhelm you.”

“No, please don’t ever apologize for sharing your emotions, Joe. You can’t hold everything in because you’re afraid of being judged.” Diana’s heart tugged for a moment, imagining how Joe must feel after the season he had last year. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was someone he could share with even if this went nowhere.

“Okay,” Joe nodded, but still changing the subject, “So, what about you? Any new music I get to look forward to?”

Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Connor was never interested in her career, implying that the music his band made was better and more meaningful. It felt nice to have someone who wasn’t her sister inquire about the progress she was making on her new album. “Actually, I have a few writing sessions over the next few weeks with my label and some producers and start recording some new stuff in March. We’re planning on turning the EP into an extended into a standard album” “Oh, yeah? Do you have a lot of material?” Joe asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer. “Uh, actually, I didn’t. I’ve been writing a lot recently, though, so hopefully..” Diana trailed off, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show up on Joe’s end of the video call. It was embarrassing enough to admit to herself that she had been more inspired since Joe appeared in her life than she had been in six years, but she’d die if he figured it out.

After a few more minutes of talking, one of Joe’s teammates knocked on his door causing Joe to get off the phone. They had been on the phone for an hour, but Diana was sure she could have talked to him for three more. Diana spent the rest of her night watching the Grammys on her couch. Diana’s team still thought it was best if she stayed home this year as Connor’s band was up for nomination and they wanted to avoid as many headlines about the two as they could. They insisted that Diana stream from home and interact with fans while the awards were happening, which worked out okay in her book. She had fun posting on her Instagram stories rooting for the artist she was friends or a fan of, secretly rejoicing when Bedford Scrolls lost the award they were up for. The fact that she was able to hang out with Joe because she stayed home was definitely, absolutely, not the main reason.

—-----------------------------

If there is one thing that will never change about Diana Hayes, it’s that she’s not a morning person. Or a “before 1 PM” person, really. So when her alarm went off at 10 this morning, she wanted to press snooze with everything in her being. That was until she actually looked at her phone and noticed the text notifications on her home screen. She had the normal business updates in her team group chat, but that wasn’t the one that caught Diana’s attention.

Joe (Quarterback) 7:01 AM Is there a specific dress code today?

A smile crossed Diana’s lips, relieved that he wasn’t canceling on her. Tapping a reply out on her phone, she got out of bed and headed towards her bathroom. 

10:02 AM whatever you’re comfortable in. i plan on restarting game of thrones today.

Diana busied herself by turning on her shower and adjusting the water temperature before her phone buzzed on the counter.

Sweats it is. 

Good choice on shows. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m King In The North 😉

Diana responded with an eye roll emoji before telling Joe she would see him at noon and entering the shower. She took her time in the shower, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the uncertainty of what the afternoon held. It had been ages since she had been on a first date, if this even was one, she wasn’t sure what protocol was anymore.

An hour and twenty minutes, one pair of shaved legs, and a fight with a hair dryer later Diana was freaking out. Joe would be here in less than an hour and she was regretting everything. He’s going to make fun of me, Diana thought to herself, he’s going to come over, think I’m weird, and then make fun of me to his friends. Adjusting her position on the couch, Diana brought her hands up to pick at her lips, an anxious habit she’d had since a child. 

Before her fingers could even make contact with her mouth, Biz’s hand swatted it away, an amused look on her face.

“You told me to stop you from picking!” Biz held up her arms in defense, “I just wanted to remind you to tag the bakery the croissants are from on Insta before I leave.”

Biz was driving back to Philadelphia with Eli for the day, giving Diana and Joe the apartment alone for the day. After Biz made her way out of the door, Diana busied herself taking pictures for her social media posts, starting the first episode of Game of Thrones, and snacking on the sweets that had been delivered while she was in the shower. Before she knew it her phone was ringing, Joe’s name flashing across the screen. 

“Hey,” Diana greeted, standing to pace in the living room. 

“Hey,” Joe responded, “I’m about to get in the elevator, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost there.”

“Okay. Once you get to the 14th floor, we’re on the right. See you in a minute.”

Moments later, Diana was opening the front door of her apartment, eyes scanning over Joe’s body. He was dressed in a tie-dyed blue and purple, Space Jam crewneck and a pair of gray sweats. She had never understood before when her friends had talked about men in gray sweats, but seeing Joe had shown her the light.

“Hey,” Diana finally found her voice, gesturing for him to walk in the door.

“Hey, again,” Joe joked, making his way past Diana to stand in the entryway. Closing the door, Diana met Joe’s eyes and felt her face heat up. 

“So, I have uhm, some pastries and fruit in the living room if you want to go in there. I’m like halfway through the first episode of Game of Thrones if you want to go watch.” Diana’s voice came out quicker than normal, nerves filling the space between the butterflies in her stomach.

Joe shook his head with a grin. “Alright. That sounds great to me.”

The pair made their way past the kitchen and into the living room, Diana waving her arm in the direction of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”

“Water sounds great, thanks,” Joe answered, walking to the corner of the couch. When she returned, Joe had sat down and was taking in the surroundings of Diana’s living space. The room was the same cream color that most high-end rentals are nowadays, sectional taking up most of the space. A coffee table in front held Diana’s laptop, a plate with croissants, cinnamon rolls, and strawberries, a glass of water, and two of the flower arrangements that Joe sent her the day before. The sectional was up against a full wall picture window, sage green blinds pulled halfway across and faced a flat screen TV that was paused on an image of Daenerys Targaryen walking into a steaming bath. 

“I know it’s plain, but we’re only staying here temporarily,” Diana said referring to the room they were in, her presence startling Joe.

“Oh. Planning on moving soon?” Joe inquired, pulling himself deeper into the couch. Diana set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to Joe, leaving about a foot of space between them.

“Kind of? I wanted to stay in New York until the tour starts and then Biz and I were going to look at houses,” Diana said in response, “I don’t necessarily want to settle down in a huge city, but I can’t imagine myself going back to Philly.”

“Did you hate it there or something?” Joe seemed genuinely intrigued about Diana’s plans, which was something that surprised her. She had only really known him for 36 hours and she was ready to tell him everything.

“Only since my dad died,” Diana said, instantly followed with, “Oh my god. That was so depressing. Ignore me.” 

“You’re fine. It’s the real reason,” Joe chuckled, “I’ll quit interrogating you.”

The two talked a little more about Joe’s flight back to Cincinnati at 9 and the Grammys that happened the night before, somehow landing on their Game of Thrones opinions. 

“I won’t deny that she’s completely batshit insane, yes. But she’s one of the best characters!” Diana said, excitedly of Cersei. “That’s not what you said, you said she was your favorite character,” Joe countered, “Which, if it is true, is wild.”

Diana laughed as she brought her legs onto the couch and crossed them crisscross-applesauce. The space that had previously existed between her and Joe disappeared, her knee pressing into his thigh. Attempting to ignore the heat that was making its way up her neck, Diana leaned forward and grabbed the remote. “Just watch it from my perspective,” she said before pressing play.

The rest of the first episode and the entire second one played while Diana and Joe snacked and gave commentary on what was happening in the show. Between episodes, Diana had readjusted, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over herself. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime around the opening credits of the third episode after she had ordered pizza, she found herself pressed into Joe’s side with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Within fifteen minutes of that, Diana found herself straddling Joe, hands on either side of his face, lips moving in sync with his. Joe’s right hand found its way to her hair as her lips traveled to the hair on his jawline.

“I like this scruff,” Diana panted between kisses, starting at his chin and making her way back up to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Joe’s left hand traveled to her waist, reaching under her t-shirt and making contact with her bare skin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” just loud enough for Diana to hear. Diana ground her hips into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and his hand traveled to her breast, massaging it eagerly.

They continued kissing a moment longer until Joe grabbed hold of Diana and laid her down on the couch. His lips found her neck and he asked, “Is this okay?” as he shifted his weight to not crush the woman below him, his left hand returned to its place under her shirt. “Take this off,” Joe said, gesturing to the material. Diana complied. “Couldn’t be better,” Diana sighed as Joe nipped lightly at her collarbone, tongue following shortly after his teeth.

“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement,” his voice laced with lust and arrogance. Just as Diana was about to ask what he meant, Joe’s hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her sweatpants.

With a nod of Diana’s head, Joe’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of both her sweatpants long fingers gently brushing her clit through her panties. A soft moan left Diana’s lips as she leaned forward to connect her lips to Joe’s again. His fingers teased her, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the material separating him from her core. Lifting her hips hoping Joe would get the hint, she pressed her core firmly against his fingers.

“More,” she breathed. Joe pulled the fabric aside and his fingers were instantly met with the slick wetness of Diana’s arousal. Sliding his middle finger along her slit, he brought it up to her clit and began to rub. Pleasure clouded Diana’s thoughts, Joe’s voice asking her if he could take her pants off barely making it through haze. She lifted her hips and pulled the material down her legs as Joe sat up, tugging his shirt over his head.

Joe stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. Laying in only her black lace panties, Diana was too busy enjoying her own view to shy away from the hunger Joe was staring at her with. Joe was clearly a man who took care of his body and it showed. She was in awe.

Before Diana could process the definition of his muscles, Joe had resumed his position next to her, covering her lips with another kiss. Then, without hesitation, he took her left nipple in her mouth. Diana moaned again, arousal red hot between her legs. It wasn’t long until Joe’s mouth began moving downward again, leaving kisses until he got to Diana’s hip bones.

“Can I?” Joe asked, staring up hungrily at Diana. Hesitant, Diana thought it over for a second. She had only received oral three times in her past relationship as her ex had found numerous reasons to avoid the act, most of them criticisms of Diana. Everything from she was unattractive to she was too picky when it came to the way he did it. Trying to shake thoughts of her ex from her head, Diana reassured herself that every signal Joe had given her had proved he wanted to do this. Finally, she nodded her head.

Wasting no time after getting her consent, Joe placed his lips around Diana’s clit and began sucking. Instinctively, her hips bucked into him, eager for more pleasure. Diana felt Joe smile into her skin, then a finger slid into her while he continued to suck and lick at her.  After some movement, Joe added another finger, pausing a moment to help her get used to the width.

Diana tried to clear her mind, looking down at the man between her legs. His fingers were moving inside of her, curling to hit a spot inside of her that she seemed rather receptive to the first time he hit it. A warm tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to clear any insecurities from her mind. “Fuck..” Joe’s mouth drew another slow moan out of Diana’s mouth. She leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows. “As amazing as this feels- fuck. I don’t think that I’ll be able to- holy shit!- finish this way.” Joe pulled his face away from her core, licking his lips and shaking his head. “I think you underestimate my determination,” he stated. Not breaking eye contact, he dipped his head back down and placed another kiss on her clit and added another finger to the ones busy between her folds.

Joe’s hands and mouth continued in unison to work their magic until moments later when tension in her core began to build towards a peak and her body convulsed. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down lightly as Joe’s teeth lightly grazed her clit. He used his free hand to rest against her hip bones, trying to hold her in place so he could help bring her to climax. Releasing her clit from his mouth, began to move his fingers with more purpose, trying to match the pace that Diana was trying to set. 

“Fuck. Fuck! Joe, I think I’m going to-” Diana was cut off by her orgasm. Joe continued to pump his fingers into her as he peppered kisses on her forehead. Warmth radiated through her body, starting at her core and rippling from her head to her toes. “That’s right, baby. Just let it happen,” he encouraged as Diana let herself give in to the sensation. 

Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Diana was staring into Joe’s blue eyes. “Thank you. I promise you did not need to do that” Diana whispered, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. “I didn’t have to, I wanted to,” his response helped ease her worries. “Besides, I didn’t want to not live up to what was advertised,” he joked, referencing the interview Ja’Marr had given. Just then, the doorbell rang indicating that the pizza they delivered had arrived. 

An hour later, Joe and Diana had devoured an entire pizza and had spent the entire time deep in conversation. Trying to avoid bringing up what just happened, Diana kept the topics focused on friends and growing up. She learned about Joe’s parents and his brothers and heard what it was like to grow up in a relatively small town in Ohio, while she told Joe about how she grew up in Philadelphia, her mom leaving before she turned 10, and her dad passing away a few years ago. It felt almost relieving to have someone ask questions about the things she actually cared about.

It wasn’t long before Joe’s phone started ringing from its spot on the coffee table. Joe stood up and walked out of the room to take the call. It was a quarter till six, meaning that Joe’s flight left in less than 5 hours. Diana’s head began swimming with contradicting thoughts, sad that he had to leave soon and fear of what that meant.

When Joe ended the call, he walked back into the room, looking at his phone. “Apparently, I should leave in no more than ten minutes to make it back in time to pack for our flight. I guess I should leave” Joe looked just as conflicted as Diana felt. “Will I get to see you again?”

Diana felt her heart start beating harder than it ever had. This man was a fucking dream. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that,” Diana nodded, walking Joe to the door. 

“Cool. I had a really good time today,” a smile covered Joe’s face when Diana turned a deep red. “I’m willing to repeat it anytime,” he said with a wink.

Diana shoved Joe slightly, arriving at the front door. Joe engulfed her in a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“But seriously, I would like to hang out again. I’ll text you, okay?” He was looking down at her now, smirk still on his face

With a nod, Diana pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Making sure she locked the door behind him, she raced to her phone to send her sister a text.

Sending the message, Diana couldn’t help to smile to herself. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from this relationship with Joe, but she knew for sure she wanted more of it.

===================================

Sorry for the delay, I just couldn't get this chapter right! Hope you all enjoy! If you've read this far, please let me know what you think, even on anon!

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Taglist: If you'd like to be added, let me know!

@therapycat21 @rd14 @wickedfun9

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

While You're Camping

Agi sends Emmrich a letter while he's off camping with Harding, and he has a moment. Or two. NSFW.

Dearest Emmrich,

You’re currently camping with Harding. I hope you’re enjoying yourself, love. Remember, try new things!

Because while you’ve been away, I’ve been trying new things.

In fact, I tried that lovely little toy you bought me.

I thought of you---your weight on top of me, my hands in your hair, marking my neck for all to see. It drives me positively wild, Emm.

I thought of you whispering sweet things to me, in that cooing little voice of yours. You’re always so gentle and kind…

But then, as it always does, you snap.

You plow into me. You growl that I’m yours and you’re mine. You suck on my tits and tell me how pretty and good I am for you.

And you know I eat it up, love.

I thought of you as I clenched around nothing and wanted it to be your gorgeous cock. After all, my beautiful Emmrich, only that part of you can truly fill me. That’s not to say your fingers aren’t wonderful. They most certainly are.

But your manhood is truly special, handsome.

I’m thinking of you right now.

I hope you’re thinking of me.

Love,

Agi

***

Emmrich stared at the letter in his hands, a pale pink blush painting his cheeks. While he had received (and written far more) love letters in his day, the professor did not expect my sweet darling girl to be so forward and vulgar.

He exhaled sharply, a growing tightness in his trousers becoming more noticeable by the second.

She did say she hopes I’m thinking of her.

The flaps of his tent were closed, so he did not have that to worry about.

Sound, however…

With the wave of a hand, he placed a sound dampening enchantment around him and then went to work, undoing his trousers more quickly than he would have under normal circumstances.

There she is, dearest Agnes.

He imagined her standing in his bedroom at home in Nevarra City (I’ll take you there soon, my sweet) wearing the dark purple lingerie she recently purchased.

Look at you, my good girl. Hair slightly mussed. A half-hearted attempt at lipstick. Thighs squished together when they should be squishing my head.

She whispered that she missed him, kissing along his jaw as her hands pushed his trousers down. She begged him to touch her, kiss her, make her feel loved…

To ravish her as she desires.

“Darling, I beg of you. Take your rightful place on your throne.”

In his fantasy, Emmrich discarded the rest of his clothes and lay down on his bed. In his tent, he moaned, stroking his erect member just the way I like. He imagined her blushing and shyly getting onto the bed, and with a giggle, swung a long, plush leg (I’ve written several poems about her gorgeous legs) over his head.

“Love, are you sure? I don’t want to—”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down so that her cunt was nearly touching his mouth. “I need you, my love. Please. Let me taste you properly.”

And then he devoured her.

Her hands were on the headboard as she rode his face, nonsensical praise flowing from her.

And speaking of flowing…

Ugh.

With a loud groan, he came far too soon and spilled over his abdomen.

A frustrated growl emerged from him as he waved a hand and muttered a spell to clean himself. “Damnit, how am I meant to pleasure her if I can’t last…”

Get yourself together, man.

***

Emmrich was genuinely happy to be back at the Lighthouse the following day. Back to my comforts…and my love! She’s here! “Darling!”

Agnes Aldwir was in his library, perusing the fiction bookshelf. Wearing a delightful sleeveless white dress with sunflowers. “Emm! How are you? Did you and Harding have fun?” She turned quickly and approached him, the calf-length dress flowing beautifully…like her. She looks so beautiful. My dearest heart, I adore you. Please, sweetest lady, I beg of you…

Dropping his bags, they hit the floor as he cupped her face and kissed her soundly. “Sit on my face, Agi darling. Please.”

She barely held back a laugh between kisses, grinning against his lips. “Enjoyed my letter, did you?” Agnes teased; her generous bosom pressed against his clothed chest. “I hoped so, love.”

“More than. I thought of—” He purred, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

Shuffling of boots.

A friendly hiss.

“Manfred!” Emmrich cried as he released Agnes and turned quickly to greet his companion, she burst out laughing. “Oh Manfred, I’m so happy to see you too!”

He and Agi will want to hear about camping.

Later though…

Be ready, my darling girl.

Your throne eagerly awaits you.

[telugu-girl-13]

it’s literally Christmas Eve but I’ve got a mega rant read it or don’t vv

why am I so different from my parents? like I’ve realized that some of my traits are a mix of theirs but we don’t share any hobbies or talents? my parents never read, they aren’t that good at English, yet literature is my thing? neither can they sing and dance, or are artistic at all, but i am? And for some reason, these differences give them an excuse to not pay attention to anything I do at all. They don’t ask what im doing, what im reading, what im dancing to in bharatanatyam, what I was painting back when I used to go to art class, what music im listening to. Even when THEY are the ones who enrolled me in those classes. All because they “don’t have time”. So they NEVER have time?? because that’s they’re excuse ALWAYS. and then my mom goes and talks about how much work she has to do, how she has to cook and clean for everyone in the house, if you want help, could you TEACH me how to do stuff instead of complaining?? (ok that was unrelated, now back on topic>)

just a few weeks ago, my mom figured out my favorite color was purple when asking me what decorations I wanted for my birthday. My dad probably knows nothing about me as well. They think I hate or im so distant to Indian culture, maybe if they asked what I was reading, they’d know that I read Aru Shah?

And the few times my parents DO try to invest in what im doing, omg, it sounds SO fake. Like yesterday when I came back from dance my mom subjected me to shopping, but does she care that I just worked my butt off physically for over an hour? And I tell her that and she’s like “if I could come to your class I would watch you for an hour” like NO THE FUCK YOU WOULDNT ?? When I tell her that she’s like “well I have nooo time do you expect me to actually do that” and laughed—then why are you FUCKING LYING TO ME. why do you think lying is the only solution to EVERYTHING and it’s the only thing that’ll make me happy? why do you LAUGH every time I want you to actually SEE me? Why can’t you TAKE ME SERIOUSLY?? Like I swear to fucking god im not a clown or a freak to laugh at all the time. Plus when I get mad at her for this shit she’s like “your just like your dad” like MF IF YOU KNEW MY DAD FOR MORE THAN ONE MONTH (she brags about it??) BECAUSE OF A FUCKING ARRANGED MARRIAGE AND DIDNT JUST MEET HIM ON A PHONE CALL SITUATED BY A MATCHMAKER YOU WOULD KNOW THAT HE HAS BIG FAT FUCKING ANGER ISSUES AND THAT THEY WOULD HAVE PASSED DOWN TO YOUR CHILDREN—that’s not my fucking fault??

And don’t even get me started on my dad because he’s lived in this country for over fifteen years yet he literally knows NOTHING about it? On Saturday it took me five whole minutes to explain to him how my friend didn’t know she was having a party (it was a surprise) so she didn’t invite anyone. And he kept interpreting it wrong like OMG it’s not hard 😭😭 and imagine this but about stuff I like, he can never and probably never will understand my hobbies.

Honestly I’m pretty sure my followers who check in on my blog every once in a WHILE know more about me than they do. other than yall, idk who else I’d talk to about this. I’m super proud of you if you read through all of that 💗💗 this entire thing was in one mega paragraph so be glad I broke it down. my mom is calling me down rn for some family shit so 👋

[soapybutt17]

Light of My Life

Summary: The New Year meant new things for everyone in the Price Household. A not-so new face had also become an addition to the chaos if it all. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 3,146 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: @glitterypirateduck: here is part two like I promised. hope you enjoy~

Part 2 for Your Are My Sunshine

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

“Why are you more nervous than me?” Kyle couldn’t help but point out the moment the car has stopped in front of a rather large farm house a few hours outside the city.

As Kyle stepped out of the car and gazed up the vast expanses of rolling green hills, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. You had always spoken about your family’s farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer grandeur of the place.

The farmhouse stood proudly at the crest of a gentle slope, its stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Ivy clung to its sides, giving it a rustic charm that was impossible to resist. A slate room crowned the structure, and a tall, stone chimney sent a plume of white smoke spiraling into the clear blue sky. The whole scene was like something out of a fairy tale.

You led Kyle up the gravel path that wound its way to the front door, and as they approached, he couldn’t help but notice the colorful flowerbeds that lined the walkway. Brilliant reds, purples, and yellows contrasted with the lush green grass, creating a vibrant tapestry of colors that he would have only seen in movies.

As you finally knocked on the door, the noise from the inside of the house halted. Kyle had only notice now in his amazement the array of voice that could be heard from the inside.

Opening the door, your father, Captain John Price, stood talk. A deep frown rested on his lips the moment his eyes met him as well as your own. The frown grew even bigger the first moment he caught sight of your hands holding onto his own.

“Darling. Sergeant.” Price had acknowledged, opening the door further to let the two of you inside.

That had somehow surprised him. The Captain’s reaction was the last thing you would have expected to give him at this point after hiding his relationship with his daughter and how he had downright lied through his teeth for well over a year because of it.

What surprised him even more was the sight of two familiar co-workers that also seemed to be just as surprised as the two of you the moment you step foot inside.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You questioned but your question was immediately tackled into a hug by your mother.

“You finally brought your boyfriend along. He’s a handsome fella too.”

Kyle was left stun by the short woman—shorter than you were which was saying a lot as you barely reached his shoulders and you were a few inches taller than her. But her height did compensate at how much of a firecracker she was as he was being pulled away from the pack of lion ready to devour him.

With the two of you dragged into the kitchen, Kyle was had come to realize that the apple doesn’t fall far from the three as she began her array of questions about your drive to the farm, and how meeting his parents had gone. All of which you had answered with the same enthusiasm as your own mother. The smile on your face return, Ghost and Soap being in the house was momentarily forgotten.

“I’ve dealt with your father and the two boys for you two. So you’re both safe from them for the rest of the night.” She winked towards him and he had let out a sigh of relief because of it.

“Thank you.” Kyle spoke. “I’m sorry for coming without notice.” He apologized being another mouth to feed for tonight.

“Nonsense. When I learned that Simon and Jonny were coming I’ve made food that is enough to feed the entire army.” She spoke as a matter of factly. “Besides, I am still hoping that my daughter would finally bring you along to meet us. I’m happy that she finally did—even if the circumstance isn’t on your end on this.”

Kyle nodded before turning towards you knowing the implication of his arrival.

“Now since I’ve pulled you two away from the chaos of the three boys still in the living room, why don’t you two head upstairs to your bedroom to freshen up, I’ll deal with your father for you for the time being.”

~

John Price was not happy one bit. Not even the fact that he was home for once for the holidays could brighten his mood. Not even the fact that all his children were in the same room or the fact that his own sets of children in the base were also here to celebrate the New Year could brighten his mood.

How could he be so blind to not see it?

His daughter that had been through so much growing up with a father that gave you so much empty promises that it took him years to even allow him to make his own and keep. The daughter that might not have been his blood but he loved just the same like the rest of his own. The daughter that he would die over and over again if it meant you were happy and safe.

How could he have not seen the way you look at his boy Gaz, the man that he had immediately taken under his wing since the incident in Piccadilly. The man that he had hope to be better than he could ever think of being in his career. The man that was torn and pulled apart for the war that had no beginning nor end. The man that he would take a bullet for if it ever come to it.

How could he not see the way you two look at each other the way that you did in front of him now?

“They look so in love. He looks are her just like how you look at me.”

His attention had turned away from the happy couple and turned to his own beloved. When he had first found out about you and Gaz making out in the parking lot for Soap and Ghost to see, he had a mind to drive straight to Gaz’s house just to beat the living shit out of the man, but his wife was godsend. Immediately putting her foot down at his plan and brought all the anger he had to a halt.

“I don’t look at you like that.” He muttered, refusing to admit as such—not wanting to be compared to Gaz at the moment.

“So you don’t look at me with love, John?”

“I didn’t say that.” He muttered turning his attention back to the pint of beer in his hand. “I have my own way of looking at you.”

“Like you want to get into my pants?” She teased him.

“I mean—” He trailed off with a smirk, earning a light slap onto his chest and the all too familiar giggle from her.

“You’re impossible.” She rested her cheeks against his shoulder, her eyes glued to the picture perfect sight of their daughter and his—Sergeant. “After everything we’ve been through, I never thought I would see the day that she’s happy with someone.”

“She had always said that she swore off men after what her father did to you.” John grunted, the memory of those words still haunted him.

How such a little girl like you back then had been forced to grow up and see that not everyone could be kind—not even your blood. It was a statement that had haunted them all for years. If he’s not as good as Daddy John, I don’t ever want to have any man. It was a revelations for him back then, not only how your mind works as a toddler, but how you had finally called him Dad instead of the Mister Price or Mister John. It was at that moment that he had vowed to himself that he would make sure you had everything you could ever want, protected from any kind of heartache that may come into your life.

“She ate her words.” His wife acknowledged. “Don’t be too hard on Kyle. You always said that he was a good man. What difference does it make now that he’s seeing our daughter?”

She was right. She was always right when it comes to situations like this. But he couldn’t help but still be the overprotective father to you. He could throw you into the deepest parts of hell for missions because he was confident in your capabilities, but this was different. To him, he couldn’t do anything to save you from any form of heartache that would come your way.

“I don’t want her to get hurt anymore.” John finally admits.

The boisterous laughter of his children and that of Soap filled the air, the way you had egged Soap on with Kyle as his kids tackled Soap to the ground. But his mind was still filled with the dread of such a possibility. He could not see himself being able to see you heartbroken all over again over a man that disappointed you. He did not have the heart to look at Gaz the same way if he decided to hurt his baby girl.

“We can’t stop that, John. You and I know that. All that we could do is be there for her if ever the time comes. But seeing Kyle, seeing him with our daughter, I doubt that would even happen.”

“How could you know?”

“I just know. You have to trust me on this.” She winked finally standing up and announcing it was getting close to midnight.

John’s eyes turned towards the clock. It was few minutes to midnight and the New Year. With one command from him for everyone to head outside for the fireworks. Everyone scrambled out, Soap and the kids dashing out and racing to see who would be first. It left John and his wife for a moment in the sudden silence of their home.

“I trust you.” He whispered to his wife as they walked hand and hand outside to everyone standing around waiting.

The crisp cold air immediately hand him pulling his jacket off and wrapping around his wife. He had also noticed the same gesture that Kyle did for you. His jacket wrapped snuggled around you and you beamed at him as thanks.

Again, his wife was right.

As everyone awed at the fireworks that began to explode into the air, his arms had wrapped around his wife, but his gaze shifted back again towards you, how you snuggled into Gaz’s arms, both of your gaze up towards the sky as everyone began to countdown to welcome the New Year.

10.

9.

8.

7.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

Happy New Year!

The dark skies burst bright from the fireworks, and he had pulled his wife in for a kiss. Well over two decades together, who would have ever thought that this would be the life he would have for himself.

“Happy New Year.” He whispered against her lips before his attention turned back to every single one of his family.

His children wrapping their arms around Simon and Soap as they wished them a happy new year, to his daughter that had her eyes close and forehead resting against Gaz’s own, words that he couldn’t read were exchange between the two of them before Kyle gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, the nose, and finally the forehead.

Maybe his wife was right. Gaz could make you happy again.

~

“Dad! We’re on holiday!”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at your overprotectiveness for him and his sake. But for the past twelve hours, he was left unscathed at the hands of his Captain and the two overprotective older brothers you had earned in Soap MacTavish and Simon Riley. It was a win on his book but not something he would want to test.

So when his Captain had asked him for a quick walk out in the open fields the following morning, he did not even attempt to refuse the offer. But it did scare him that he had been adamant that Simon and Soap to not join along even as the Scot had insisted on it. He knew well enough to know that he wanted to talk, not as his Captain, but as the father of his girlfriend.

“It’s fine.” He tried to reassure you but the frown on your lips grew deeper refusing to break the glare that was still directed at your father.

“I agreed with your mother that I will not do anything during the New Year party, I never promised not to after.” Price had pointed out with a grin, it was his own little way of getting on your nerves and it was working far too well than even he would expect.

“You’re impossible, Dad.” You muttered plopping yourself onto the dinner table for breakfast.

Kyle turned to look towards your mother as she had placed a place of full English breakfast in front of you with an extra serving of eggs just like what you always liked. She shared a pointed look with her husband whose smile slowly fell before making his way outside to wait for him.

“Don’t worry about him, his bark is worse than his bite.” She had reassured but Kyle knew it wasn’t always the case. Working for him for as long as he did, his bite was all the more worse than his bark especially when he was certain it was for the greater good—greater good for this case was his daughter.

“I hope so.” Kyle joked, but the fear was all too evident in his voice.

Kyle had ignored Soap’s teasing as he finally made his way out of the house. His Captain was patiently waiting with his arms crossed against his chest. The moment he had noticed he was out, he began to walk and Kyle was left to follow him in silence.

It had been a five minute walk, the cool morning air a welcome companion to what he would expect would be a heated discussion between him and the man walking in front of him. All the anxiety of the secret he had hidden from him had continued to eat him up as the walk continued but he was afraid to start the conversation.

“Did she ever tell you about her biological father?” Price had began as they had halted by the herd of cattle by the meadows.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle responded.

It was the first thing you had ever told him early on in your relationship, how it had shaped the way to view relationships in general. He had know early on that there would be a possibility of what they had to be over before it had even started. He had thanked his lucky stars that it didn’t. Lucky enough that he could be everything you had hoped out of a relationship that you wanted and needed.

“Then I don’t need to tell you why I am not keen on having anyone dating my daughter, especially with someone that she works so closely with.”

Price had finally turned to look at him. Kyle had been all too familiar with the look. The stern cold wall that he used to intimidate any adversary that would even dare come their way. It was unnerving that he was directed with such a gaze instead of being in the background witnessing some other poor soul.

 “Yes Sir.” Kyle agreed. “But I love your daughter, Sir. We have thought it would be best for everyone to keep in a secret until she was good and ready.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Over a year, Sir.”

“And what are you intentions with my daughter?”

Kyle took a moment, wanting to form his words carefully without causing more tension and chaos in their relationship going forward.

“I want to be the man she could depend on when she needs me to be. I want to be the man that could make her the happiest that she could be. I—I just want to be by her side whatever relationship it may be that she would want and need from me.”

He waited with bated breath as the Captain stared at him, scrutinizing his words carefully for all it was worth. Kyle was thinking that he was mincing his words and looking for anything that would incriminate him as insincere, but he was certain he would not find any.

“I want you to know, Sergeant.” He began. “That if I ever learn that you hurt her, in any shape or form, I would be the last person you should be worried about. You will worry for your career, for your safety, for your life if you even dare hurt a single hair from her pretty little head.”

Kyle gulped but nodded, knowing that this was no longer his Captain, but the father of his girlfriend that would drag him to the deepest parts of hell if he makes so much as a mistake of making you cry.

“But last night, when I saw her with you, she was the happiest I have ever seen. It was rare and far between when she was like it. The first time I’ve seen it was when I told her that I was officially adopting her as my own daughter. Those bright eyes that twinkled in a love she never thought she would ever deserve. I saw it when she looks at you.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at such an information. He know the look he was talking about, he was certain that he was giving you the same, a look that was even more in love and adoration for you and everything that you do for him.

“You have my blessing when it comes to your relationship, but just know that you will both endure a couple of weeks of intense drills for lying to me about your relationship.”

Kyle thought as much. He nodded shoving his hands onto his pocket and only now did he realize the small box nestled deep inside his sweatpants.

“I also wanted to ask you blessing for something, Sir.” He began pulling out the velvet box for the man to see.

The Captain took a moment to realize what it was before a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I should have expected this.” He shook his head. But agreed nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for their holiday off to end and everyone was back to their normal lives inside the base and in mission. It did take long for Kyle to propose, who would have ever thought that he would in the brink of death while you held him close to you.

[plantsandpies]

I guess I’m in a posting mood where I post crack posts, theories and takes. I have way more. But I’m talking about descendants right now.

I hate people that hate on mal. NOW, she did do a lot of fucked up stuff. Drugging someone and attempting to erase their memories is wrong. I’m not denying that nor am I excusing her actions.

However, Auradon doesn’t know how to handle mental health. All their people are happy and well adjusted. As far as we know, they all had good parents and happy childhoods.

The isle (at least in the books) had vicious child abuse. Carlos was locked in a room filled with bear traps and had to get furs. Evie obviously grew up with huge insecurities due to her mom’s thing on looks. I think Jay slept on the floor (though out of all of them I think he had the best parent. Not an award because you’re the best of the worst, but whatever). Mal’s mom was constantly manipulating her and controlling her. She created this narrative for mal. Love is evil and weak, people not inviting you is slighting you, you have to be the strongest on the isle, your mother’s daughter. The books went into more detail and it’s been a while since I read the book, so excuse my mis-remembering.

But the isle was not a fun place and aurdon is so, they don’t deal with mental health issues. So none of the vk kids have dealt with that.

So when we start at d2 it’s been six months and they just threw mal into that position. They gave her no time to adjust, put all their stuff on her (blonde hair vs. purple) and just expected her to be okay with it.

Now, a child with a parent that forces them to try and be the best and puts all their worth on impressing people for love (aka mal and her mom’s whole situation) is going to carry that even when realizing their mom sucks. So they put mal into a huge amount of responsibility maybe six months later without any sort of therapy or support system, because the isle kids are messed up and the aurodan kids aren’t so they don’t know how to help. So magic becomes her sort of safety net.

Her friends and Ben obviously love her. That’s true, but from what we’re shown in the beginning of the movie, they aren’t helping with the pressure. Evie is trying to have her give up magic and Ben is giving her gifts and helping the paparazzi but none of them are actually getting to the root cause. No one is helping lift the pressure she’s putting on herself. No one seems to even notice that that’s the problem.

Mal is trying so hard to be perfect and what everyone wants her to be, so she’s using spells to help her. She wants them to know she’s trying and she wants to love her. She might know they do, but it’s unconscious at this point. She was sixteen in the first movie. So she’s like seventeen. This is something in her mind, ingrained for sixteen years. They gave her less than six months to undo that herself.

Obviously her actions are not justified or right, but saying she’s evil and awful when what happened was a very traumatized teenager who was shoved into responsibility she wasn’t ready for, snapped, is also wrong. She’s not right, but her snapping was inevitable. This entire thing could’ve been solved had her friends and loved ones talked things out with her. If they could see the stress before it boiled over. Maybe it was because of it being a movie but her stress wasn’t really hidden. Maybe from Ben, but from Evie? This could’ve been solved had they intervened or had aurodan grew a brain and realized villain kids aren’t evil but they sure are messed up.

[caswensworld]

“The outfits in Descendants: The Rise of Red are so bad” “I hate them” what Descendants are y’all talking about?

We gonna start off with Uma. No, I’m sorry, Principal Uma! She looks so good! D2 vibes all around. Sure, there’s not as many sea trinkets as I’d like there to be but I can live with that. I missed her Pirate hat and her fringed skirt! The shredded shirt, I see you, Harry Hook inspired! I love the brown sleeves with glitter, that definitely reminds me of the sea. I just got black fingerless gloves but now after seeing her, I want gold…Great. I haven’t talked about her jacket cause there’s no discussion to be said. No defense to be made. Uma will always have that fashion!

Princess Red of Wonderland here is slaying! The designer understood the assignment! Red’s style is like a combination of Mal and Evie. The gown gives Evie’s royalty and the other gives Mal’s edge. Let’s start with the dress, I have always had a thing for corsets , I don’t know what it is, I just love them. Her arm warmers! Maybe it’s something on the arms, I just find it so sexy (y’all should’ve seen me swoon over Mal’s D3 moto sport fit). Why does her dress give more Queen of Hearts then the actual Queen of Hearts. And don’t act like we didn’t see that crown, Miss Ma’am.

Now the other picture, it may be dark but I saw everything I needed to. I think that’s a double belt she’s wearing and I love wearing more than one belt! The leather pants with the gems on the side, love that! Combat boots are my true love, but y’all. Y’all. The hood. THE HOOD! WITH THE GEMS!! OHHH! I need the character pictures to drop so I know what to gender-bend and thrift.

First off all, Hades always got it on but THIS! Hades is my spirit god! I am Hadie. I can see how he pulled Maleficent. This is my father, I dressed up as this specific Hades for Halloween. I love it when my gender wears makeup, I personally like painting my nails and wearing eyeliner so to see it on Hades, I’m very happy. I am a sucker for jewelry and that choker around the neck! I recently bought my own choker because of him! His leather jacket is everything! The studs! I haves stud fetish! I need the jacket but it’s just too expensive. Now the main thing we need to talk about is THAT SHIRT! OR SHIRTS! I fully believe these are two shirts safety pinned together! I think that the blue might be long sleeve while the gray is short! I got the safety pins so I find the right shirts, I will my customizing!

The Mistress of Evil, Maleficent always has that fashion chic. The complaints I do understand are from her horns and hair. We’re gonna start with her hair. People were expecting it to be people because Mal’s was purple. Y’all, you cannot expect me to believe Mal’s hair was an inherited trait, I did not believe for a second that Maleficent had purple hair. (Imma have to do a whole other post on that). Now the horns, I do believe that her horns are there and her hair is just long enough to be wrapped around her horns. (And if not, then we go all Dragon). Now let’s talk about the pros. THE PURPLE EYESHADOW!! I LOVE THAT! The leather corset, again, something about a corset! Why do I have the feeling that’s dragon leather? If that’s a thing, is that a thing? Now let’s talk about that single arm sleeve. Even as a teenager, Maleficent still looks regal! How many chains does Maleficent have? I love that. Ulyana is a mean girl, Maleficent is a BAD girl!

It’s not that she doesn’t look good, it’s just that it’s all red. I know that’s her main color, but she does also wears black with a little bit of gold. That’s pretty much my only complaint, she looks beautiful, I love how the dress looks like roses! The sleeves, I love translucent or mesh or whatever it’s called. The crown is crowning! Don’t get me started on that corset turned collar!! But I do understand why they made her all Red so she can contrast with Queen Cinderella!

I’m am rating this because the other one we saw is not a dress, that is a cape or cloak or something, I don’t know what it’s called. This dress is very beautiful, I have always preferred her blue over her silver but I do like how the designer added silver swirls. The jewelry is everything! The earrings, the necklace, THE SILVER CROWN! IT’S BEAUTIFUL! Brandy is royalty herself! I’m not sure if you guys can see it, but she does have these shiny translucent gloves and I like them. I don’t care what you people say, even if it’s a little random, her blue braid is absolutely beautiful! I absolutely love it!! The first black Cinderella then the first Cinderella with blue hair, Brandy is the literal definition of iconic. She is the history of Cinderella.

Emilio Sosa, the designer, is amazing and he deserves his roses and trophies

[seb-ussy]

Here's an excerpt from my sebaciel hannibal au ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

Sebastian sighed, taking off his glasses. “You aren’t getting any better because you still don’t want to get better.”

“I thought we were under no pretenses that I truly wanted to be here. I told you the first day we met that it was hopeless because I have no intention of “getting better”.”

“Yes well, I thought we’d at least give it a shot.” He put his glasses away in his breast pocket. “Are you still bent on revenge?”

“Of course.” What type of question was that? 

“Have you managed to make any more progress since you last updated me?”

Ciel looked away, “No.”

“Ah. I expected as much,” Disappointment colored his voice. “I suppose nothing more than a sloppy murder isn’t much progress at all.”

Ciel's face flushed, “He was much bigger than me, how did you expect me to get information out of him?”

“Delicately. Such practices involve a, how do I say this? Gentle hand? You were far too violent too soon. It takes time to extract information out of someone.” 

“What would you know about that? Exactly how often do you have to extract information?” Ciel scoffed.

Sebastian merely smiled at him. Ciel leaned back in his chair, “Exactly. So, now what? Is this where you drop me as a patient?” For some reason he wasn’t as happy as he thought he would be. This had been his plan since the beginning, but now he almost felt sad.

“Yes and no. You see I think I can no longer be your therapist, that being said,” he paused, “I think I can still help you in a different way.”

Ciel swallowed. A different way? That didn’t sound concerning at all. “How so?”

Sebastian smiled, pleased that Ciel was willing to hear him out. “I will help you get your revenge,” Ciel jolted forward. “But,” Sebastian emphasized, “it will come at a price.”

Ciel sat there contemplating. “What type of price?” He knew Sebastian, the man wasn’t talking about money when he said price. 

Sebastian smiled, his teeth unnaturally sharp in the dim light, “Your soul.” 

Ciel looked at him, absorbing his words. “My soul?”

Sebastian nodded, “Yes, but in exchange you would have me to help you complete your revenge. That is what you want more than anything, right?”

He did want his revenge above all else. His life was over the moment he was in that cage. “You’re going to eat it, aren’t you?”

The therapist smiled fondly at him. Ciel racked his brain, what ate souls? “You’re a demon.” It wasn’t a question. It made too much sense. 

“You always have been quite smart for a human.” The demon almost sounded proud.

“So how would this work? Would you be solving the objects of my revenge, and then eat my soul as payment? If so, I don’t want that.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t want that. Plus where's the fun in that? I want to see you blossom before I snuff out the light that is you.”

“So then, what exactly would you be doing?” 

“I would be helping, doing the things you can’t accomplish on your own. I would be your pawn. I would belong to you, and you to me.”

Ciel thought that them belonging to each other was a sick imitation of romance. “So you would be mine to command?”

“Yes.”

“Mine to use?”

“Yes.”

“So how would this work?”

Sebastian smiled, pleased with Ciel’s unspoken acceptance. “We’d draw up a contract. In exchange for your wish, I would get your soul.”

“So I get my revenge, and then after I have attained that you get my soul?”

“Yes. You get three requests of me as well.”

Three wasn’t a lot for the cost of his soul, but the promise of his revenge was worth it. “Very well.”

“Excellent,” The demon smiled at him with too many pointed teeth and slit pupils, “Let’s draw up the contract then.”

…

Ciel looked in the mirror, “And, just how am I supposed to explain this to my aunt?”

The damn demon merely laughed. “I’m serious Sebastian, she dropped me off today, how do I explain that my eye is now purple?” he exclaimed. 

Sebastian walked so that he was standing behind Ciel looking at the boy in the mirror. “Here, put this on.” He handed him an eyepatch. 

Ciel took it from him, attempting to put it on. Sebastian let out a quiet laugh before tying it on the boy himself. “There, it’s hidden.”

Ciel whipped around to face him, “It still doesn’t explain why I’m wearing this.”

Sebastian went quiet for a second. “Run away from home.”

“What?!”

“Run away from home for a couple days, then when you go back, claim something happened to it,” the demon explained as though it was common sense.

Ciel stared at him as though he had grown a second head. “Where would I go?”

Sebastian had almost forgotten that despite the trauma the boy had gone through he still had, for the most part lived a very pampered life. “That’s simple, you’ll come with me.”

“You…want me to go with you?” 

Sebastian nodded. The boy tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Would I…? Would I have to eat what you make?”

Sebastian showed off his teeth, “It is a part of our contract after all.”

Ciel felt like throwing up. It ultimately was the price he had decided to pay for with his soul. “Right. Okay. Let’s go.” He headed towards the door. 

“Ah, not so fast.” Ciel turned back to look at him. “I can’t take you with me right away, unless we want to make getting your revenge harder. We can’t exactly have me going to jail for kidnapping, now can we?”

The boy nodded, “Makes sense. Then what would you have me do?”

“You’ll take a cab across town, then turn off your phone once you get there. I’ll be there to pick you up,” Sebastian paused, “If you need me, simply call my name.”

Ciel called up a ride. His hands were sweating as the driver kept trying to make conversation. What was he doing? What had he done? He shook his head, he didn’t really regret it if he was being honest. Getting revenge was the only thing that mattered anymore. His life was already forfeit. He supposed it was better to have his life end via the demon, than spend the rest of it in prison after he completed it, or more likely if he completed it at all. He sighed. Honestly the only thing that made him even slightly regret it was the demon’s request. Personally he thought the demon was in no position to ask for anything, but he needed Sebastian, and the demon knew it. 

Ciel climbed out of the car, ignoring the driver’s goodnight. He pulled out his phone and turned it off. It was dark on this side of town. He shivered, it was also cold, and drizzling. A minute later a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The window rolled down to reveal Sebastian. Ciel quickly clambered into the car. The bottom of his tennis shoes were muddy much to Sebastian’s annoyance. “Ah,” Sebastian said, “One quick thing before we can go.” The demon snatched Ciel’s phone from out his hands and threw it out his open window. “There we go.”

“Hey!” 

Sebastian put the car in drive and sped off, ignoring Ciel. “I thought we were only turning off my phone!” 

Sebastian looked at him from the corner of his eye, “I merely told you to turn it off, I never said what would happen to it afterwards.”

Ah, so that's how it was going to be. The demon would work around not lying to him by leaving out crucial information. This was good to know. “Would you like to listen to music?” Sebastian asked.

“Not particularly.” 

“Very well. We shall take this ride in silence then.”

Ciel looked out the window. Sebastian had always been an unconventional if not bad therapist. He was not nearly as surprised about him being a demon as he should be. There were times he seemed to enjoy Ciel’s distress. As though he was feeding off of the boy’s negative emotions. Not to mention he had encouraged Ciel to follow the first lead he found, and had even hinted at murdering him. Yes, he wasn’t very surprised at all.

[totowlff]

after party

➝ request: we could get some drunk Toto?

➝ word count: 2,7k

➝ warnings: mentions of drinking and smut

➝ author’s notes: this is his day! and, even though it's already dark, I think it's the ideal time to post this little one-shot. hope you like it. (btw, happy birthday, toto)

Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes met the sunlight streaming in through the crack in the curtain.

You squinted from the way the light stung. Your head throbbed.

You ran your hand over your face and shifted a little in bed, taking a little bit of comfort in the softness of the duvet that covered your body. It took a few seconds for your mind to process the thought, but all it took was your fingers sliding over her skin for your initial impression to be confirmed.

You were naked.

Trying to sit up made your head hurt even more, and your body ached. You felt like you'd been hit by a truck. However, the pain became completely secondary when you noticed your reflection in the mirror at the foot of the bed. Rubbing your eyes, you stared at it, noticing the purple marks standing out on your skin.

One small thing, though — your bedroom had no mirror.

Looking to your left, you saw an armchair, a small table, and a lamp next to the window. The curtains were closed, and you couldn’t see outside. The room’s decor was minimalist, impersonal, maybe a bit cold. Turning around a little further, you can see a bedside table with a lamp and a half-empty bottle of water, with the Metropole hotel logo on the label.

“Why am I at the Metropole?”, you wondered, running your hand over your face again, trying to push away the pain and tiredness you felt, trying to piece together the previous night.

You had left work and gone home; you remembered that much. The day had been a little tiring, but the anticipation of your usual night of cocktails and laughter with your friend in a bar in the center of Geneva gave you the patience to put up with even the rudest of your colleagues. Throwing on one of your best dresses and some dizzyingly high heels, you took a taxi to the bar. You arrived a little later than Swiss etiquette would normally allow. However, lucky for you, your friend hadn’t arrived yet, either.

You just didn't expect that she would never arrive.

Sitting at the bar sipping a gin and tonic, you read the message she had sent you on WhatsApp, a little upset. She had gone out to dinner with her boyfriend, completely forgetting about your almost-sacred commitment. You sat alone and watched the bartender work amid the chatter, laughter, and loud music, something told you to leave. There was no point in staying there alone.

But then, your eyes met his.

The memory made you slowly turn your face to the right side, finding a man lying face down next to you on the bed. His head was turned away, preventing you from seeing his face. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was the man from the bar last night.

He had approached you almost casually. He was tall, had dark hair and eyes, and a strong jaw. With a smile, he asked, in heavily accented French, if he could sit next to you. He ordered an Old Fashioned from the bartender, and straightened the sleeves of his shirt that were pulled up to his elbows. He asked you why you looked so upset. 

— I usually meet a friend of mine every Friday for cocktails and a chat, but she left me for her boyfriend tonight — you replied, stirring the ice in your drink — Actually, I should be home by now…

— Why did you decide to stay?

— Alcohol is good company, I think.

— I know better company than that — the man murmured, lifting his glass to his lips.

— Who? — you asked, almost naively.

— Me — he replied, with a mischievous smile on his face.

The timeline so far seemed coherent in your head. You went to the bar, had a few drinks and met that man. However, after he claimed to be better company than your drinks, everything turned into a shapeless blur. You just remembered things in flashes — a mixture of drinking, laughter, and kisses, a tangle of memories that didn't make any sense. Thinking about it was just making you anxious, and making your head hurt even more.

You picked up the water bottle and took a sip, washing away the bitter taste that was on your tongue. However, as soon as you leaned over to return the bottle to the bedside table, you heard a pained groan beside you.

— Scheiße — the man growled in German, raising a hand to his head — Warum bestehe ich schon darauf zu trinken?

— Good morning to you too — you murmured, almost unconsciously. He turned his head in your direction, the expression on his face a little confused. If you were surprised to be there, he probably was too.

— Good… Morning — he said, slowly lifting himself up on his forearms. He was squinting at you, his dark hair wild and mussed with sleep.

— Are you okay? — you asked. You weren’t sure why. It was probably to diffuse the tension, but it felt like the right question to ask.

— I've definitely seen better days — the man replied — And you?

— Awful. My head hurts like hell.

— I'm sorry — he said, hesitating for a few seconds. He was gazing at you thoughtfully — Pardon me, but I can't remember your name.

The revelation made you smile. It was embarrassing enough to have no idea what the name of the man who was next to you in bed. However, the fact that he also didn't remember your name makes you feel less guilty, and got rid of the shame of asking him questions.

— Y/N. And you? I… I can't remember either.

— My name is Torger, but you can call me Toto.

Hearing him say his own name caused a new memory to be unlocked in your mind. It was your own voice, repeating his name like a plea, as his lips marked your neck and your nails scratched his back. “We didn't do this”, you thought, feeling a sudden heat run through your skin.

— Can I ask you a question? — you said, in a low voice.

Toto was turning over in bed, rubbing his eyes.

— Yes, of course.

— Are you naked?

Lifting the blanket, he was silent for a few seconds.

— Yes. Are you?

— Yeah.

More silence.

— Do you think we — you started.

— Had sex?

— Yeah.

Toto got up, sitting on the bed. You didn't have any courage to look at him. An uncomfortable tension was building in the pit of your stomach.

— I don't remember — he said, after a few minutes. You started to feel a panic rising. You also didn't have any concrete memories of the night before. Everything was one big blur that tasted like alcohol, lemon, and salt. 

“Tequila”, you thought. Now you were starting to connect the dots, the realization hitting you hard.

— Fuck — you muttered, running a hand through your messy hair, before looking back at the window, trying to figure out what the day was like outside through the small crack in the curtain. Then you remembered something else, looking at Toto with wide eyes — What time is it?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking up his cell phone.

— Half past nine.

Your heart started pounding.

You shouldn't be there. You were late for work.

You jumped out of bed and started looking for your clothes, not without tripping over a pillow and almost knocking over the small table that was under the window. Your eyes roamed the floor in an anxious search for the dress and shoes you were wearing the night before. You found your panties thrown at the foot of the bed and your dress crumpled by the bathroom door.

— What happened?

— I need to go.

— But…

— I’m late for work, I shouldn’t be here — you muttered, as you slipped into your panties. Then, it was time to put on the dress, a daring one by your standards, but you liked it a lot. However, after a few moments of trying to shimmy into it, you heard Toto clear his throat.

— Y/N…

— I don't have time, Toto, I have to go.

— You're trying to put your head through the sleeve.

You stopped suddenly, pulling the fabric from your head and looking at him, who had a mischievous smile on his lips. Then, he turned the phone towards you, the date and time highlighted against the wallpaper that looked like an image of the night sky taken from inside an airplane.

— Besides, today is Saturday.

— Saturday? — you mumbled, confused.

— Yeah. Today is Saturday. Unless you also work on the weekend, I don't think you need to worry about getting to work on time.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed in your underwear, you sighed, your head throbbing with pain again. As you rubbed your temples, you felt Toto touch your shoulder. The gesture felt strangely tender.

— Look, I really don't know what happened last night, especially after that Old Fashioned I had at the bar with you. But the least I can do is ask you to have breakfast with me. Would you like to?

You looked to the side, meeting his gaze. His expression was earnest and kind, his dark eyes looking hopefully at you.

— Will there be black coffee, without sugar?

— If you want — he replied quietly.

— Then, I would.

Smiling, he reached over and picked up the phone, tapping a button to call the concierge. While Toto was ordering room service, you got up and went to the bathroom. Staring at your own reflection, you were a little startled by the mascara and eyeliner marks that were smeared across your face. Luckily, the Metropole was a nice enough hotel to have makeup remover in its standard toiletries, so you scrubbed your face clean, splashing some cool water onto it and patting it dry with a towel. You found one of the fluffy white bathrobes hanging on the back of the door, and put it on. Better than sitting around in your underwear. As you left the ensuite bathroom, you saw Toto had changed as well, now standing there in pajama bottoms and a gray T-shirt, typing something on his phone. “My god, he’s tall”, you thought, as you approached him.

— Breakfast on the way?

— Yes. I also had my assistant get us some painkillers.

You blinked.

— Assistant?

— Yes, my assistant, Charlotte.

— You have an assistant?

— Yes, I do.

— Why?

— Because I have a job that's a little… Complicated.

— How complicated?

He smiled, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face.

— Too complicated to explain in a few words.

You pressed your lips together, a little nervous. “Could it be…”, you thought.

— Is it anything illegal?

Toto laughed.

— Did you think I was a criminal?

— Well, you have the energy of a James Bond villain, you know?

— Just because I'm tall? — he raised an eyebrow.

— Maybe — you smiled — The accent also doesn’t help.

— I've been told that a few times before, actually. But rest assured, it's nothing illegal.

— What is it then?

— Well, have you heard of Formula 1?

Before you could answer, there was a knock on the door. Toto stood up and answered it, only opening the door slightly. Taking the tray handed to him by the concierge, he carried it to the bed, placing it carefully on the mattress. He had ordered quite the spread. You were surprised by the variety of fruits, jams, and breads available. Sitting down next to the tray, you took a grape from it, popping it into your mouth.

— Starting without me? — he asked, a smug smile on his face.

— It was just a grape — you replied, laughing.

— Is it good, at least? — Toto questioned, as he sat down in front of you.

— It's excellent.

You ate without saying much, preferring to let the coffee work its wonders on your headache. Toto selected one of the bagels from the tray, smearing it with strawberry jam. During the meal, he told you more about his job, which basically consisted of leading a Formula 1 team. You didn’t really follow the sport, you only knew a few names, the most famous ones, in this case. But hearing Toto talk about his work, the way his eyes sparkled, was fascinating. You could spend hours listening to him talk.

— And what are you doing here in Geneva? Business or pleasure?

— Both. I came to talk to a sponsor and, yesterday, I took the opportunity to celebrate my birthday at the bar.

— Birthday, huh?

— Yes, I was even with some friends, I think I introduced them to you — he said — Do you remember?

You blinked. You definitely didn't remember being introduced to anyone.

— No — you muttered.

— Wait, let me show you a picture of them — Toto said, picking up his cell phone and swiping through the phone's camera roll. You waited for him to find the right picture. However, his expression looking at the phone made you put down your drink. He looked worried.

— What’s wrong?

— I think I have the answer to the question you asked me here in bed — he murmured.

— Which?

— This one — he handed you his phone, the image on the screen making your heart sink in your chest. It was a selfie of you, completely naked and with your lips parted, while his hand held your neck, apparently squeezing it.

— Oh my God — you muttered, shocked.

— There's more — Toto said — Swipe to the side.

With a trembling thumb, you moved on to the next image, another selfie of yourself, this time with your lip between your teeth and back arched, with Toto poised with his hands on your hips, looking consumed with pleasure. In the next image, you were lying on the bed, Toto's hand squeezing one of your breasts as he penetrated you.

— Wow — you said, somewhat impressed by your own boldness. It wasn't something you typically did, not even alone, let alone with someone you'd just met at a bar.

— There is a video too.

— A… Video?

He pressed his lips together, looking at the phone. You looked at the device and dragged to the next image, this time with a play symbol over it. Tapping the screen to play the video, the silence was filled with your moans and the sounds of your bodies coming together.

— Fuck — Toto muttered — I'm coming.

— Come, let me make you come — you moaned, as the image became even more unstable, the effort visible in both of your breathing.

— Y/N…

— Come for me — you heard your own voice say, as he grunted from behind the camera, releasing himself inside the condom he was using, the image going completely dark, since he had dropped his cell phone on the bed. Long seconds of heavy breathing and a few breathless laughs later, you appeared on the screen again, smiling.

— Happy birthday, Mr. Wolff — you said directly to the camera, blowing a kiss to the lens and ending the recording.

You looked up at Toto, who was suddenly very interested in the label on one of the jars of jam on the tray. He was probably feeling embarrassed about the whole situation, especially since those pictures were on his phone. But, despite being a little embarrassed, the video triggered a new memory in your head. It was vivid and exciting.

After a few kisses and unchaste touches inside the bar, you left for the hotel where he was staying. Already inside the suite and undressed, you had been the one who asked to borrow his phone to take some pictures of you two, as well as the video. Those pictures were the birthday gift you had given him.

— Nice — you murmured, handing the phone back.

— What do you want me to do with them? — he asked seriously.

— What do you mean by that?

— Well, they’re private, and they’re pictures of you. You should decide what you want to do with them.

— Do you want to delete them?

— Do you want me to delete them? — Toto returned the question.

— Honestly? No.

He was visibly surprised.

— No?

— Keep them. Like I said last night, they are my birthday gift to you.

He stared at the phone's screen with a shy smile on his lips.

— I would be happier with another gift from you, Y/N.

— What would that be?

— Your phone number, so I can see you again.

You felt heat coursing through your skin, and your heart fluttering.

— Give me your phone.

He handed over the device almost immediately for you to add your number to his contact list. Once you’d saved your number, you handed the phone back to Toto, an almost malicious smile on your lips.

— Happy birthday, Mr. Wolff.