#its gonna end up being hefty

[screampied]

Hey vegas baby, so lil request if you don’t mind, imagine riding Sukuna and he is slapping your face urging you to go faster, and you slapping him back and laughing in his face 🤭 like he is in shock because how dare you, but in the same time he is like “ok girl, I’m intrigued” 🤨

Love you and your works 🤎

❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna getting turned on at you being a brat

warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, degradation, impact play, unprotected, choking, overstim. an. thank u luv u2!!!!

sukuna would be laid back with the most smuggest expression on his face — he noticed how you’d always halt your hips a little, slowing down the moment you were getting close.

he tsks, bringing a big hand to grip your chin before giving you a few smacks. “awwww,” he’d coo, feeling your hips try to keep up its repetitive jerking. he was just teasing you, giving you another light tap on your cheek before your bottom lip quavered. you felt yourself reaching close, your legs felt like complete mush before you whimpered. “don’t tell me the big girl’s tapping out already. what happened to ridin’ me until my eyes rolls back?��� and sukuna sneers once he sees your cute glare. “i was rooting for you, princess.”

“s-shut up, ‘kuna.” you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, and he stares at you with a smirk. knowing him, he’d probably reply with the obvious, ‘make me’ to which he did. as you made him lean back just a bit more, your hand ends up lightly going against his face.

sukuna’s stunned for a moment before he jibes. he brings both big hands towards the edges of your waist, pressing his thumbs into them before snarling lowly.

“hm. did you just slap me?” and whilst he said that, you felt yourself pulse — not a heartbeat but a familiar pulse that was located between your legs. not waiting for an answer, he snickers, grabbing your chin once more before he spats, “oh. don’t look away from me now. do it again. ‘n just a heads up, if you’re gonna smack me at least do it harder, little girl.”

“i’m not gonna do it again because you’re gonna e-enjoy it.” you moaned, feeling him use his hands to make your hips rock against him again. it felt so good . . the stimulation, whilst you grind against him, your knees felt weak. each buckle, you heard an echoe through your ears ring the more and more you felt yourself getting close.

“yeah ‘m gonna e-enjoy it,” he mocks your little weak stutter, dragging a thumb towards your upper lip. he snickers, pulling you into a quick kiss before humming. “c’monnn, no eye contact either? such a shy baby.”

you continue to glare at him. making a cute attempt at moving your hips again — but he reached so deep inside your walls, that spot.

you let off a soft whine, feeling the curve of his dick stretch against your sweet cunt that never stopped gripping down on him. it was exceedingly sloppy, your arms that were thrown over his neck started to feel warm.

“f-fuckkk,” you’d bite your tongue, and sukuna just guffaws once more. he finds your behavior adorable and somewhat amusing.

he considers it cute on how you desperately tried to bite back your own moans, you throbbed at the continuous stares he gave you. such playful stares, he was waiting for it.

it was the way your legs were just about to give out — you felt an entire bundle of nerves brew up. up and up and up, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted.

“oh, boo. don’t make me fall asleep,” sukuna raises a brow, releasing an overly dramatic faux yawn. he was so cocky, purposely being in manspread for you. he parts his legs just a bit more and you moan. the heftiness of his cock pressing into you, it was enough to make your mouth salivate. “thought i trained my girl to not get so s—”

sukuna gets cut off once he feels your hips start to quicken and he chuckles, maintaining the same rough grip on your waist.

“mhm,” he huffs out, feeling gradually hasten. yet sukuna barely bats an eye, although . . that’s when you bring a hand to wrap around his neck. “choking me now? that’s k-kinda kinky.”

you watch as sukuna’s breathing hitch, and a sly smile spreads across his lips. he likes the feeling of your slender fingers wrapping around his throat. you give it a slight squeeze, and for a brief moment you watch his pearly fangs poke out. if he wasn’t amused, he was surely amused now.

sukuna doesn’t expect you to start laughing in his face now. he’s a bit caught off guard — the both of you were reaching such euphoric peaks at an unsteady pace, he intakes a single sharp breath before you murmur. “now look at you, ‘kuna. growing flustered ‘n all.”

“don’t … get too much of a swell head, brat,” he scoffs, and he was for sure flustered. a cute tinted pink color rises towards his face, and you felt his dick sporadically twitch inside of you. sukuna was definitely embarrassed. for once, he barely had a witty comeback, and he grips the fat of your ass before giving it a rough spank. “shut up ‘n finish.”

“don’t tell me what to do with a cute expression like that,” you giggle, the grip of your thumbs lingering a bit harder against his neck. sukuna snarls. you could tell you were irking his nerves, and he always let you. it pissed him off to say the least, sukuna casually gives you an eye roll and you smile. “you’re being the brat more than me.”

“watch how you speak to me girl,” he grumbles, and a small pout curls against his lips — it was cute, the curse trying to keep up his mean tough facade yet was melting right underneath you.

he loathed how much he enjoyed feeling your hands, the softness of your bare hands against his skin.

feeling you steadily jerk back and forth against him, a toe-curling orgasm right at the tip of your tongue, you moaned. sukuna buried his fingers into your skin, his right thigh idly bouncing underneath you. “mhm. try giving me dirty talk.”

“dirty talk?” you tease, softly stroking your thumb against the middle part of his neck. “you’re into that too, ‘kuna?”

“shut up woman,” he scoffs with puffed cheeks. he regrets even asking — yet you hum, leaning up close to him before giving him what you wanted. you imitated him earlier, smacking his temple gingerly yet with just enough roughness.

the last thing you expect was for a low needy moan to depart from his lips. “you gonna make a mess for me, sukuna?”

“f—fucking woman,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s starting to lose composure. the softness in your voice, the playfulness that ran underneath it. he’s stirring up your insides without a doubt, making your knees buckle and lock. as you straddle him, he could barely keep his hands gripped onto your waist. roughly attached like velcro.

sukuna’s breath, it became unsteady. this time you’re the one squeezing his chin, giggling at the way he tries to give you an irritated glare. “just make me cum.”

“okay baby.”

“call me that again ‘n see what happens.”

“aw baby, don’t be so stubborn.”

his eyes flicker towards you, and you were keen on getting on him annoyed. the grip your soaked pussy had on sukuna had him grow mute for a moment. just the mere squelches that loudly ricocheted from between your legs. the sweetened slick that ran against your slit, it had him locked. for a moment he’s seeing nothing but pure angelic stars. sukuna’s practically speechless, and he finds his rough hands tightly holding onto the mounds of your ass.

“f-fuck,” he huffs out, and his voice grows a tad bit lower. the baritone in it makes you pulsate. shockwaves started to coarse through his veins. it was a multitude of synonyms — heavily intense.

it makes his jaw tense and tighten, he bites down on his lip the moment he feels his balls nearly prepare to dunk inside of you. he was so thick, you had to angle yourself a certain way so he could hit each and every orifice of your gummy walls. every corner, every direct hit to make you moan tight against his ear. every crevice.

“c-cumming,” he throatily groans, his climax hitting him like a truck — the both of you ended up finishing at the same exact time, and sukuna’s eyes eventually do end up rolling back. he literally ate his words. he was on a plateau, a constant high. he swallows thickly, and you make your hips come to a halt once he starts to pour a hefty load into your cunt.

it was so much that it spilled out. all out of your folds, it was a mess. you wriggled your hips teasingly, getting over your orgasm yourself before running a finger down his chest. “tapping out on me, sukuna?”

“tch,” he growled, feeling that same hot flush rise towards his cheeks. he couldn’t deny though, he may have found himself a few favorite kinks. sukuna’s hooded eyes glare at you before his and flex and tense. “whatever, little girl. you—you win, this time.”

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Thank You, I Need You*

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summary: being on the media team has its perks, especially since you get to work with your husband joe. there are also hefty cons; after being heckled by fans at a game joe comforted you on the sidelines. showing joe your appreciation + rewarding him over the win of his game ends up being an amazing night for you both.

(Part one to - Part 2)

warnings: smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

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joe had a game today. it was home, bengals vs raiders.

joes alarm shook us awake, he let out a loud sigh as he released his arms from me and rolled over to turn the alarm off.

once the alarm was off he wrapped his arms around me again, laying his head against my chest.

"morning joe." - you rubbed his back

joe just whined as he nuzzled his face into my neck.

"wake up babe." - you kissed his cheek

"no." - joe mumbled

i sighed loudly, cuddly joe was cute, but he was almost always the reason why we had to rush getting ready.

"you have a game today." - you continued rubbing his back

"mhm, i know." - joe

"so you need to get up." - you chuckled

"my games at 1.." - joe whined

"and it's 8. get up babe." - you

“are you working media today?" - joe leaned up

“yeah, i'll be taking pictures." - you

joe groaned and plopped back on the bed in an exaggerated way, before snuggling himself against you.

"will you get up now??" - you

"why do you want to get me outta here so fast? who's in this bed when i'm gone?" - joe joked

"no one you weirdo, i’m just not gonna be late because you didn’t get up.” - you

"i so wouldn't care if it meant i could lay in this bed with you all day" - joe pulled you into his lap

now i was straddling him, his eyes looking straight into mine.

"you're so beautiful." - joe squeezed your hips

"i just woke up." - you chuckled

"still." - joe smiled

"i love you." - you

"love you too." - joe kissed you

"i gotta shower... wanna join?" - you

"of. course." - joe

i laughed as i got off of his lap and grabbed his hand, pulling him off the bed.

*time skip*

joe and i walked into the locker room at the same time, he had his pregame fit on and he was looking insanely good. of course for media sake i let joe walk a few feet ahead of me so we'd still get good content of him.

once we were in the locker room it was time for us to part ways.

"i know i'll see you on the sidelines but i just want to tell you good luck. i know you're gonna do amazing, because you're the best qb in the league joe." - you

"i love you so much." - joe pulled you into a hug

"i love you too, baby" - you

joe pulled away for a second and kissed my lips, holding my face gently with his hand.

"i'm gonna go, i need to set up." - you

"yeah... bye." - joe

"bye." - you turned around and smiled as you walked away towards the field entrance

*time skip*

everything was going great. it was the beginning of the second quarter and the bengals were winning 17 - 10. offense was on the field right now and joe was doing amazing, o-line could definitely be better.. but joe was avoiding sacks amazingly.

i stood on the sidelines, with the rest of the photographers. i looked to the ground for a split second and saw something on the ground, it was a candy bar wrapper so i bent over to pick it up.. that's when everything escalated.

multiple fans in the stands behind me.. that were men, catcalled me. and it didn't just stop there.

"someone throw their trash down their so she’ll bend over again"

the guys around him just laughed, i didn't even turn around. all the games that i had worked sideline at.. nothing like this had ever happened.

"baby girl! i know you hear me! i'd love to hop down there and drag your ass out of this stadium"

i really don't know what to do, this has never happened to me before. there was no one around me that i could grab. joe was on the field, zac was coaching, and i didn't want to bother any of the other guys.

"don't ignore me bitch, if you don't want to be yelled at then cover up next time"

that was my final straw, offense was coming off the field and i wanted to run over to joe so bad but i didn't want to distract him. i could confront these guys by myself.

"i'm married!" - you shot the guy a snarky look

"don't see a husband anywhere!"

(joes pov)

as the offense and i hustled off the field, i looked around our sideline trying to find y/n.

when my eyes landed on her she was turned around talking to a few male raiders fans, but she didn't look happy. she looked far from it.

i sat down on the bench, next to tee and ja'marr but kept my eyes on y/n.

the guys kept yelling things at her that i couldn't hear, each time her face lost more and more color.

"uh joe.. that doesn't look good." - ja'marr

"i know." - joe said as his jaw clenched

i jumped up and walked over to zac.

"taylor, look at y/n." - joe

"what?" - zac turned and faced where joe was pointing

i watched all the features in his face drop as he saw what was happening.

"go." - zac nodded

i looked at him for a second but when we made eye contact i realized what he was saying and i started running down the sideline to y/n.

i weaved through all the players, trying not to run into anyone. when i finally made it to her, i watched her face wash over with relief.

"everything okay?" - joe

"no." - your eyes teared up

"what's wrong?" - joe

"those guys keep yelling inappropriate things about me.. joe i'm scared." - you fell into his arms

she practically fell into me, so i quickly wrapped my arms tightly around her as i glared up at the guys who had been heckling her.

"here comes her night in shining armor everyone!"

everything this dipshit said seemed to be the funniest thing ever to his friends.

"whore slept her way into a sideline photographer job"

"that's why she's wearing the skimpy tight clothes, so burrow stays interested in her"

"don't listen to them, baby. i'm here, just pay attention to me." - joe rubbed your back

"i wanna leave." - you cried

"here, just come over and sit on the bench with me." - joe

"joe.. i can’t i'll get in trouble." - you

"i think your boss will understand y/n. if she doesn't.. then i'll intervene." - joe

"joey." - you

"nope, lets go." - joe took your hand and started walking you over to the bench

when we made it over to the bench, ja'marr and tee both stood up to give us space.

she never let go of my hand, i literally felt terrible.

"y/n, are you okay? what did they say to you? do i need to get someone to come get you?" - zac walked over

she wouldn't speak up, not wanting to recall the cruel words that were just spoken to her so i told zac what i had heard once i got over there.

"i flagged down your boss when you guys were still over there, she said you can go up to the box with joes parents." - zac

"thanks zac." - you

"no problem, you can go ahead and head up now if you want.” - zac

she nodded and zac walked away. before she stood up she turned to me.

"thank you.. i love you more than you'll ever know joe." - you

"i love you more. get outta here, i'll see you after the game." - joe

*time skip*

(y/n's pov)

we all stood outside of the locker room, waiting for joe. robin was holding savanna, joe and i’s three year old daughter who was passed out asleep.

i was talking to robin when joes tall frame came into my peripherals, causing me to stop mid sentence and make my way over to him.

"good game baby!" - you wrapped your arms around him

"thanks, babe." - joe kissed your forehead as his arms wrapped around you

"you played so good, i'm proud of you!" - you

"thank you.. have you seen my parents?" - joe

"yeah they're over there with savanna i kinda ran off when i saw you" - you

"let's go over to them." - joe took your hand and started walking towards your family

once we had made it over to them everyone took turns hugging and praising joe before dad mode took over and sav would have his full attention. mid conversation savanna started fussing so robin sat her on the ground, she immediately wrapped herself around joe’s leg.

"dada." - savanna whined

"what princess?" - joe

"up." - savanna stuck her arms up, signaling joe to pick her up

joe bent down and picked sav up, she laid her little head in his chest.

"dada, thirsty." - savanna

"do you want to go get something from the locker room?" - joe

"yes!" - savanna squealed

"hey baby?" - joe put his hand on your lower back to let you know he was there

"mhm?" - you

"sav’s thirsty so imma grab something for her out of the locker room. do you want anything?" - joe

"no, i'm okay. thank you though." - you

"i'll be right back then." - joe kissed you

joe took sav’s hand and started back towards the locker room.

he hadn't brought up what happened during the game yet, but he was in a good mood and i didn't want to ruin that by bringing it up. once i got up to the box, my family comforted me. robin reassured me that the man's words were false and that i shouldn't listen to them. after all of the pep talks i shoved it out of my mind and focused on cheering for joe. quickly my mood was improved and it ended up being a fun day.

(joes pov)

when i got to the door of the locker room i realized there was probably still players getting in and out of the shower.

i looked down at sav, thinking of what i could do.

"i've got an idea." - joe mumbled as he reached into his pocket and took the headband out

i bent down to savs level as i put the headband over her eyes.

"dada what are you doin??" - savanna

"the guys might be in the shower savvy" - joe

"oh. ewwww" - savanna

"yes, ew." - joe opened the door and lead sav i

i held sav’s hand rather tight since i had to guide her over to my locker.

"yo hey savvy!" - ja'marr

"hi, marr marr!" - sam

sav had been loving ja’marr ever since she was a newborn, as soon as she started talking

"joe why's she blindfolded?" - ja'marr

"i didn't know if you guys were done in the shower yet." - joe

"ohh yeah, smart idea." - ja'marr

"do you want water or gatorade?" - joe

"gatorade" - sav babbled

i got one out of the package and handed it to her.

"let's get back to your momma." - joe

"i'll see ya later!" - ja'marr

"see ya later bro." - joe

"bye marr marr" - sav waved bye

"sweetie, you're waving bye to a wall." - joe gently grabbed her shoulders and moved her to where she was facing ja'marr

"there you go." - joe

"bye marr marr!" - sam waved

"bye sweetheart" - ja'marr

when we left the locker room i took the blindfold off of her eyes and walked over to everyone

"did you get your drink girly?" - you

"yup!" - sav waved her gatorade

"are you ready to go home?" - joe looked at you

"i'd like to talk a little longer if that’s alright with you, is everything okay?" - you

"i- i'm just tired." - joe

the look on her face told me she knew why i wanted to leave. it was because of what happened during the game. it just made me so mad and i wanted it to just be us.. at home.

"robin you have a key to our place right? i don't know when you guys will be getting home from dinner so we might be asleep the time you get to the house." - you

"yup i've got a key, honey! are you guys leaving already?" - robin

"yeah, joe’s sore and tired so we're gonna go ahead and head out." - you

"thanks for coming!" - joe

"you did good joey, now go home and celebrate the win with your family." - robin smiled as she hugged her son

after pulling away from my mom, i embraced my dad and said our goodbyes.

i picked sav up and held her against my chest.

"they're so cute." - jimmy watched you guys walk away

"they're truly the sweetest family, y/n and joe are so adorable." - robin

"what do the kids say.. uh couple goals. yeah that's what they are." - jimmy

"i'm so happy they found each other." - robin

"i am too" - jimmy smiled in adoration

*time skip*

joe was putting savanna to sleep by himself.

this is something he usually does when he's upset, he stays alone with the presence of just the kids because of their carefree attitudes.

i sat on the couch downstairs, the tv wasn't on and all the lights were off so when all of a sudden i felt a hand on my shoulder i flinched.

"just me, baby." - joe

"oh.." - you chuckled slightly

"sorry.." - joe walked in front of the couch before crawling on top of you.

joe was laying directly on top of me, his head in my chest, and his arms wrapped around me.

one of my hands was occupied by playing with his hair. i knew it comforted him so i made sure to curl my fingers into his soft dark blonde locks.

"im so sorry for what happened. those guys are idiots, and please don't take their words to heart because they have no idea what they're talking about." - joe

"i know that everything they said was wrong.. but i just don't know why they'd say it. i haven't done anything wrong, or been mean.. towards anyone. i just don’t understand why i deserve it." - you

"you don’t baby. it's because they see a young woman that's successful and they don't like it. i couldn't tell you why but some people are just like that. but listen you don't need to seek validation from others. you know who you are.. and you know that i know who you are. that's all that matters." - joe

"you're right.. seems you're always right." - you

joe laughed slightly, you could hear how tired he was.

"is there something we can do do tonight that'll make you happy?"'- joe leaned up and sat on the couch cushion next to me

"uh yeah actually.." - you turned to joe

"what's that?" - joe

i put my hand on his cheek, letting it slowly roam downwards.

"well you won your game.. and comforted me on the sidelines. so i'd say you need a reward right?" - your hand went from his cheek, down his chest, his stomach, and staying on his thigh

"rewarded.. how?" - joe looked down at your hand on his thigh

"i think you already know baby." - your statement caused joes eyes to meet yours

"y/n.. my parents are gonna be home soon. what if they walk in on us?" - joe

"then let's go upstairs." - you stood up and put your hand out

once joe took my hand i led him upstairs to our room, making sure to be extra quiet when was passed the sam's room and the twins room.

when we got inside, joe was in control now. he shut the door and immediately pushed me over to the bed, kissing the entire time.

"i think i enjoy this more than actually winning the game." - joe mumbled

"i know i do." - you ran your hands through his hair

"i gotta get you out of these clothes." - joe

"then take 'em off of me, joe." - you whined

he looked at me with that dirty smirk, he loved how the moment we got to the bedroom i surrendered to him. joe quickly took his shirt off before he turned to me. he gently took my leggings off along with my bengals cropped shirt, leaving me in just my underwear and bra. he took a step back and let his eyes roam over my body. it wasn't until he groaned that i realized he was palming himself as he looked at me.

"shit, you're so beautiful." - joe groaned

i walked forward and put my lips on his, needing to taste his sweet lips. it caught him off guard but then he quickly lead me backwards before giving me a gentle push onto the bed.

with the push joe just gave me, i was now laying completely flat on the bed. he was still standing up, and when he moved forward to press his bulge against my center i couldn't help but let a small moan slip out.

"shit baby. you feel that? feel how fucking hard you make me?" - joe

oh god. joe wasn't normally a dirty talker in bed.. but when he was i knew it was because he was really in the mood and needed me then and there.

"joe." - you moaned

"yeah? what is it?" - joe

"please." - you

"please what?" - joe

"i need you, joey." - you

joe acted fast, he pulled away from me and immediately pulled his shorts and boxers off.

he was lining himself up when we heard a sound.

it was the front door, robin and jimmy were here.

both joe and i looked at each other with scared eyes.

"you gotta be quiet for me, okay? can't have my mom hearing." - joe winked

i gave him a dirty look and he had a confused look on his face.

"what?" - joe

"maybe we should just go to bed." - you stood up

"what?" - joe looked at you with hurt written on his face

"i'm gonna go shower." - you

"y/n.. i'm confused." - joe

"i just don't want to when your parents are here, joe." - you

"we can be quiet.." - joe

"joe.. just drop it okay?" - you

"did i do something?" - joe

"no joe, i'm just not comfortable doing it when there's a chance we could be heard and i really don't want to be pushed do to something i don't want to do" - you

"im sorry.." - the lust in joes eyes was no longer there, now they were full of concern

"it's fine.." - you walked into the bathroom but joe followed

i was stepping into the showers when joe grabbed my wrist to stop me. at first i thought his intentions were impure but he just pulled me into a hug. his erection was still poking my leg but i knew that joe didn’t mean for it to, he just wanted to comfort me.

"just ignore... that." - joe

"i'm trying my best." - you laughed

"can i at least shower with you?" - joe

"will you behave?" - you

"mhm." - joe nodded

"okay, come on then shiesty." - you smiled

*time skip*

"goodnight, i love you." - joe kissed you

"goodnight joey. i love you." - you

after squeezing my waist he gave me another quick kiss before he rolled over and tried to get comfortable.

an hour later, i sat restless. now i regret stopping joe because i was left aching and needing him more than before.

i didn't want to wake up him up because in the morning we'd be leaving for a two day trip with alexa and ja'marr. which is also the reason why joes parents were staying the night, so they could watch the kids while we were gone.

i tried to go to sleep, i really did. but i couldn't.

at first all i was doing was rubbing his back, and when he rolled over now facing me i thought he was awake.

"joe?" - you

when he didn't reply i realized he was still asleep and i was still restless.

he just looked so perfect, the blanket barely reached his waist. his now long hair was laying over on his forehead as his built chest rises and falls with every breath. i needed him.

when i leaned forward i was just placing little kisses on his neck before they wandered down and i started kissing all over his chest.

"baby?" - joe

shit.

i dove under the covers, pretending to be asleep.

"i know you're awake honey. you were just kissing my neck." - joe chuckled

"i'm sorry for waking you.. i'm just kinda- i don't know.." - you

"you regret stopping me earlier, don’t you? is that what it is?" - joe smirked

i defeatedly nodded, avoiding eye contact with him.

"do you wanna continue?" - joe

"joe it's past midnight, we have to leave early tomorrow morning. you get grumpy when you're tired" - you

"i'm not gonna be grumpy if i lost sleep because of sex babe" - joe grinned

when i looked at the smile on his face i feel like every ounce of self control i had left disappeared.

joe scooted closer to me and grabbed my hips to pull me into him.

once his arms wrapped around my waist his lips met mine. these kisses were rough and you could practically feel the desperation for each other.

joe grabbed me and flipped over onto his back, now i was on top.

"take the shirt off." - joe said between kisses

i pulled away and pulled my shirt off, joes pupils dilated softly when my chest was now bare for him.

"holy shit.. baby you gotta ride me." - joe groaned as he lifted his hips and pulled his boxers down

when i sank down on him we both moaned, but joe reached up and put his hand over my mouth.

"quiet, beautiful." - joe

his one hand stayed on my mouth as his other rested on my hip, encouraging me to keep moving.

"atta girl." - joe groaned when you moved

"joe, fuck!" - your head fell back as your eyes clenched shut

a couple minutes later, i knew joe was close by how his hips bucked and his moans became more frequent.

"baby. im close-" - joe was cut off by his own moan has he came

when i continued moving joe grabbed my thighs, trying to slow me down.

"i- i cant. it's too much y/n" - joe breathed heavily

"please joe? i'm not that far off." - you watched as he nodded slowly and clench his eyes shut

every move i made, joe whimpered. he was sensitive and the stimulation was killing him.

"joey!" - you moaned

"cmon, babe." - joe whined

"i'm close, i'm close!" - you moaned

"let go for me baby." - joe whined as he came for the second time

i wasn't far behind him, and i slumped forward against him out of breath.

"that was amazing." - joe heaved

"yeah, we were a little loud though." - you said through heavy breaths

"who cares? we have a kid, it's not like they didn't know we do it" - joe

"yeah, you're right.." - you rolled off of him and laid your head in his chest

"cmon, let's go clean up." - joe

"nooo, i'm too tired." - you

"i'll help you up, and i'll wash you off." - joe

"i'd rather lay here. your chest is a really nice pillow.” - you

"well after we take a nice bath you can lay down and go to sleep." - joe

i was gonna protest because i was absolutely exhausted but joe was already getting off the bed and wrapping his arms around me, leading me into the bathroom.

*time skip*

"baby.. you awake?" - joe rubbed your arm

we were sitting in the bath after cleaning off, i was sitting between joes legs as my back was to his chest. my head was laying on his shoulder.

"mhm." - you

"that wasn't very convincing." - joe chuckled as he stood up

we dried off and i slipped into a pair of shorts and a shirt before getting into bed and finally cuddling up to joe.

"you think you can sleep now?" - joe

"yup, i love you!" - you kissed his cheek

"love you too." - joe kissed your head and you were already falling asleep on his chest

————————————————————————authors note: just a lil smutty imagine for your saturday afternoon.

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[saturnville]

on the frontline, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x black fem oc (major lanessa "nessa" dixon) content: in an unlikely event, john meets another major during the war, but she isn't what he expects. warnings: medical inaccuracies. an: Nessa is inspired by major della raney jackson, first black major of the army nurse corps. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste

The mess hall bustled with deep voices and the screeching of rubber soles against the dirty floor. The sun shone through the dusty windows and onto the leather-covered backs of the soldiers. An aroma of breakfast filled the atmosphere and wrapped its arms around them like a warm hug. The chefs made a large meal before missions. It was the last meal some men had to cherish. 

At a long table sat 13 men; two majors, two captains, a lieutenant, and eight sergeants. The conversations were minimal, until a sergeant spoke, “Have you met the new nurse?” He whistled he guzzled down a hefty bowl of oatmeal. He grunted after swallowing the hot oats and slurped down the black coffee beside his arm. “She’s a beauty!”

There was a discourse among the men who tried to figure out when they’d see the newly hired nurses. The wages of war came at a high price. Death and injury seemed to be a suitable payment to the creditor. To combat that, the service brought on extra hands to give medical assistance to the troops, especially with more men being enlisted to serve. Hundreds of thousands of men prepared to put their lives on the line; the least they could have was efficient medical care. 

“They all are,” another commented. “50 more nurses and half of ‘em are Black. Came in with them Tuskegee Airmen. Never seen anything like it.” 

As the pilots bantered about the new nurses, Major John Egan kept his gaze fixed on his coffee, his mind elsewhere. The arrival of more nurses was a reminder of the harsh realities of war, the constant influx of fresh faces tasked with patching up the broken bodies that returned from the front lines. Dread settled deep in his stomach at the thought of encountering them under such circumstances. With a curt nod, he urged his comrades to focus on the day ahead. Meanwhile, the chatter of the mess hall continued, blending with the clinking of utensils and the low hum of conversations.

“Haven’t seen them,” he spoke from behind the rim of his coffee. “Hoping I never have to. Let’s get going, boys.”  “Yes, sir.” 

-

“Major Egan’s hit!” For a moment, there was silence. Then, it wound up again when the wounded leader crossed the threshold into the infirmary.

The infirmary was chaotic. Loud cries and deep groans filled the air. Trays and metal utensils kissed one another as they were tossed on carts filled with supplies. White coats here and there sifted throughout the room as green bodies wheeled more patients into the large room. 

His breathing was ragged and heavy. With blurred vision caused by tears surfacing in the ducts on his eyes, it was difficult to navigate the infirmary without bumping into objects and solid bodies. His feet were heavy as he stumbled further into the infirmary. 

"I got you, Bucky," Gale's voice was frantic as he hoisted the pilot on his body. "You're gonna be alright, y'hear me?" If he had the strength, he would have replied. His heartbeat was in his ears and his stomach was in his throat. He'd never been shot before. Would this be the end of his career as a pilot? He groaned in agony. 

"I need a nurse!" Gale hollered, his husk voice reverberating off the walls. "He's been shot. Bullet is still in his shoulder."

In front of him appeared a nurse. A highly ranked nurse, at that. She was dressed differently than the others. There was no matching white skirt set with a pretty hat, no, she was dressed just like him. Dark leather jacket, heavy pants, and dark boots. On her chest was a multitude of badges and pins, including one that was similar to the one on Gale's chest. Major. Well, he'd be damned.

She didn't stay in his sight long, as she began giving orders to two other nurses, who were preparing a bed. She ushered her patient to another nurse and wrapped her black stethoscope around her neck. Around her wrist was a small hair-tie which she used to pull her curls into a makeshift bun. With a thunderous voice, she ordered, “Bessie, get him on a stretcher and bring him to me.”

A fellow nurse, Bessie assisted Gale in getting John on a stretcher. Gale stood behind the ladies, the tip of his thumb against his teeth. As the stretcher was rolled toward her station, she made a quick work of the gloves and ordered him to stay calm. “I’m gonna cut your shirt, okay? I need you to remove your hand so I can take a look. Take deep breaths for me.”

Beads of sweat trailed down John's forehead as he gritted his teeth. His nostrils flared and his jaw shook as he tried to keep his sounds to a minimum. The nurse above him chuckled, which caught his attention. "What's funny?" He managed to ask. 

She pushed his stubborn hand to the side and used her scissors to split his shirt in half. She was unfazed as blood trickled out of the open wound. It was ugly, but she knew how to make ugly beautiful. The wound was a wicked one, but it was a clean shot that managed to miss the muscle. It would be an easy retrieval. 

"No reason to play big man and conceal your pain here, Major. You got shot. The shit hurts. You can let it hurt here." She pressed her stethoscope against his chest. Heartbeat still strong, she noted. Wavering just slightly, but strong. She called for extra hands. "Administer the shot into the upper right shoulder."

John's eyes were on her as she worked. Her brown eyes were gentle and they remained on him as she poked, but her tone was stern as she said, "Major Cleven, if you'd like to stay, you must stay behind that line. Major Egan, you just received a numbing agent to reduce the sensation. The bullet is retrievable. If you feel anything unbearable,  you let me know. I'll stitch you up good as new afterword, am I clear?" 

John’s stomach twisted at her authority. His tongue scraped across the roof of his mouth as he nodded, "Yes ma'am."

"Wonderful. Scalpel, please." 

-

"How is he?" Gale's voice was unclear. He felt groggy. His head was a boulder on his shoulders and he felt confined to the small, yet comfortable bed he laid in. 

"He'll be just fine, Major. He took it like a champ. He'll be out of commission for six to twelve weeks and will be ordered to physical therapy upon return to base. Don't give me that look, now; he is not fit for battle right now, but he will be okay, I can reassure you that. My nurses and I will take good care of him just like we will everyone else."

John heard Gale's sigh of worry. "Okay, you're right. Thank you, Major..." 

She chuckled lightly. "Nessa Dixon." 

"Major Dixon. Thank you for all you've done." 

"No problem at all. You come to me tomorrow if that wrist is still giving you problems and I’ll wrap it again for you, okay? Get some rest, you'll need it." They exchanged goodbyes and the sound of Gale's footsteps retreating became clear. Finally, John's heavy eyelids peeled open. 

"Nice to see you again," she spoke after some time. She was leaning against the wall, hands stuffed into her pockets. and her stethoscope dangling from her neck. "How are you feeling?" She made her way toward him, sitting on the stool she set at the bedside. 

John groaned as he tried to readjust. His shoulder was wrapped tightly. He couldn't move even if he tried. Amelia jumped up and propped a pillow up. "Easy now..."

"Thank you," he replied gruffly. "I'm sore. Tired. And I need a damn drink." 

His response pulled a laugh from her. Not the small chuckle she'd release here and there, no, a hearty laugh. It made him smile. "You and me both. Let's get you up and moving first. Your procedure went well. You are to stay out of combat for--"

"Six to twelve weeks with physical therapy upon return to base," he repeated her words, clearly unamused. Nessa smiled, clearly amused. 

"Good to know you listen," she replied.

John hummed. "I do, Major. Didn't know that was a thing for nurses." He hated to seem painfully ignorant, but it’s what he was at that moment. Nurses in his unit rarely received titles, unless they’d done something extraordinary or had been in service for an extended period. But she, she looked young. Like she couldn’t be much older than he was.

Nessa nodded. She was one of the first Black nurses accepted into the Army Nurse Corps after they began accepting Black women. She worked her way up the chain, she explained, earning the same prestigious he carried. On the same level as a white man whose life was in her hands. Who would've guessed? 

"Nessa is just fine right now," she suggested. "I should let you rest. I'll do one more check before I head out. Major Cleven will be here in the morning, I'm sure. Do you need anything, Major?"

"John," he said gently, tired blue eyes gazing into hers. "And I'm okay. Thank you for everything." 

She gave one nod before leaving him alone and releasing the breath she wasn't aware she held.

-

“Nessa.” The woman sighed heavily and dropped her clipboard against the makeshift desk. Silence wasn’t a thing during war. Constant movement, moaning and groaning, the calling of her name. All she wanted was a moment of silence. It was nonexistent.

“Yes?” She didn’t turn around. But, she recognized the voice. Deep. Full of rasp. The way he said her name. It was familiar. Her eyes dropped to her clipboard, scattered with notes and reports that needed to be sent to the leader physicians. 

“Why are you awake? I thought you were leaving.” 

Her eyes dropped to the watch on her wrist. 1:43am. She’d been up for almost 24 hours. She shrugged and picked up her pen to scribble on the paper more. “I can ask you the same thing, Major. You’re supposed to be sleeping. Why aren’t you sleeping?” 

Finally, Nessa turned around. She regretted it. John Egan was a handsome man. She knew that, but she was too focused on ensuring he didn’t lose his arm to focus on his features. But in this moment, in the dimly lit infirmary with no one else present, she had every opportunity to do so. And, she regretted it. 

He was tall. Much taller than she was. She assumed her head would be at his shoulder, still leaving inches of distance between them. Though his face was littered with scrapes and healing scars, it seemed to illuminate his beauty. His eyes were blue, a strong contrast against his dark, curly hair. A strong nose and straight lips that she was sure felt amazing. His upper lip was cut in the corner and dried blood remained. He must’ve begun anxiously picking at it.

He managed to change his clothes. Major Cleven must have had something to do with that. He was dressed in dark sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She was curious as to how he got his arm through the sleeve, but she’d heckle him about it later in the day. His curls were damp and tousled messily. God, he was beautiful. Bruised and all. 

He chuckled and slowly sat in the chair opposite of her. He groaned softly and readjusted himself to come into a comfortable position. “I can ask you the same question.”

She shrugged, “I’ve got paperwork to do. Go to bed, John. You can’t heal if you don’t rest.” 

“You gonna tuck me in?” John’s tone was teasing. Nessa’s eyebrows raised and the pilot threw his head back as he laughed heartily. It was the first time he laughed with passion in a while, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile as well. 

“You’re in a good mood. Let’s go. You’re going to bed and I’m going to sleep in the infirmary just in case..” She pushed up from her chair and tucked her documents into a folder. She nodded toward the door and the pilot followed suit. 

They walked side by side in silence back to the infirmary, which was near the resting area for the injured who didn’t make it back to their chambers. Luckily, everyone had. Nessa’s eyebrows raised as John lay on the same bed he was on earlier. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m your just in case,” he said simply. He laid his head against the pillow and watched as she stood still. Nessa swallowed thickly. It took her brain extra effort to tell her feet to move. She sat on the edge of the bed to pull her heavy boots off her feet. She sighed in relief. 

Nessa swung her feet on the bed and allowed her body to mold into the comfortable mattress. Her eyelids felt heavy, but still, she found his gaze. “Goodnight, John.” 

“Goodnight, Nessa.” 

Though they did not say anything to one another after that, she found comfort in the silence. They found solace in the quiet of the infirmary that kept them through the rest of the night. Together.

[samicakes-exe]

May I ask when the Jeff fic is gonna get finished?🥺

Ahh! It's finally done and hopefully not too late! ♡♡♡ I hope you enjoy my first fic of 2023!!

ℍ𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔽𝕌ℂ𝕂𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕁𝔼𝔽𝔽 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕂𝕀𝕃𝕃𝔼ℝ ♡

warning: rough rough sex, BIG DEGRADATION STUFF, hair-pulling, it’s hate sex with a murderer sooooo, pain, fat-shaming??, you domming jeff???, use of feminine names and anatomy, unwanted cream pie, nipple biting and sucking, lot of biting, public kinda sex like you could get caught!, overall general nastiness, BARELY EDITED SMUT!

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤: around 4k

ℚ𝕌𝕀ℂ𝕂 𝕃𝕀𝕃 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋 𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋-

Jeff is a little shit- You know it. I know it.

Sooooo He teases the absolute fuck out of you! when you two aren’t fucking or at least making out: he won’t let you hear the end of it-

“You hate me huh?” “You don’t seem to hate me slut.”

People at the mansion would never guess that you two hook up most nights- since both of you are at each other throats insulting each other for everything under the sun.

Something about the insults, the yelling and the hard grip he had on you made you wet. Made you quiver, made you want this man that you hated.

You hated this man but couldn’t truly express that while you were clawing up the counter tops, him behind you rutting into your needy cunt hard.

you both needed this release.

You still hated each other.

Y’all just needed this just this once!!your bodies took ahold of you! This would be the last night of it.

until you two did it again

and again

fine- maybe you liked it more than what you wanted to admit.

♡♡♡

ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠!! ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕣:

It was early morning in the mansion, and the sun was barely poking its head over the old windowsills; It provided enough light for you to creep through the sleeping house, the only sound was the sharp creaks of the aged wooden floor. The nerves made you walk slower and they didn't truly settle until the pads of your feet touched the almost ice-like tile of the kitchen.

The kitchen was darker than the rest of the house, it was completely devoid of the warm peeks of the sunrise due to the thick curtains. You placed your hand flat on the wall and blindly felt around for seemingly a minute while you stared into the void that was the kitchen currently. Past a certain pattern of bumps: The tip of your finger thumped into the thick light switch, and in a flash, the odd staring contest with the darkness ended.

You beelined straight for the fridge which looked worse for wear. Slenderman doesn't make any unnecessary purchases, it still worked good so why buy a prettier one. Sure, it was tough to get it open but a hefty push from your sleep-riddled arms was just enough for this morning.

The buzzing lightbulb in the fridge made you press your eyes tight together and squeezed the remaining sleep out of them. Once again you were back in the dark, giving your eyes time to adjust from the soft light of the peeking sun and the sickly dim yellow lights above to the now almost heavenly fridge light.

Lucky for you, It only took a second.

And there it was: All of the food in the house currently. The cabinets were pretty bare aside from cleaning products and dishes that weren't either in the dishwasher or being used as makeshift tupper-ware. Standing there and soaking up that light that once blinded you. There were a couple of items your eyes were flicking between; A neat plastic container that held some sort of pasta, a tin foiled-wrapped paper plate mystery, and an unwrapped probably stale mash potatoes from a leftover tv dinner. Absolutely none of it looked particularly appetizing but the grumbling in your stomach didn't at all care, but before you could reach for one of your choices for breakfast your appetite dropped.

"Getting a nice tan, fat-ass?"

The hunger subsided but your stomach filled with the same feeling it always had when you heard that nails on a chalkboard voice of his. Of course, Jeff had to be the only one awake just to spite you when you think the whole house is asleep. You clenched your teeth tight until you felt a slight whirring in your jaw, hopefully, he would fuck off if you didn't respond but that only seemed to spur him on more.

"What are you now, deaf? C'mon toots you know how to say good morning the right way," Jeff's voice still had the sleepiness rasp to it. "Don't ya?"

Honestly, if it wasn't for him being so annoying you would find it quite sexy.

"What's the proper way to say good morning then?" Your voice was also raspy, it was the first thing you said this morning. Too bad that you wasted it on Jeff.

Jeff liked the raspiness more than he would admit, it reminded him of how you tend to scratch up your throat during your guy's screaming matches and how much worse it would get when you were screaming for a different reason. The very thought of a possible fuck made him want to start poking those few buttons he knew.

"Not fucking ignoring me for starters," Jeff smirked against the already scarred smile, making it stretch more. "And giving me a big smile babe."

Your eyes rolled before you even looked back at Jeff. He was leaning against the door frame, his black plaid pajama pants were hanging low on his thin build. The white tank of his was tighter than what you would think, all of it revealed his belly and revealed your favorite part personally: That thick happy trail of his which led to your second favorite part.

You flashed him the most fake smile you could muster, lips stretching against your teeth with how grand you were making it, "Uh-huh."

He couldn't help but smile back before biting his lower lip, Jeff's eyes were glued to your stretched lips. He leaned in closer to you, watching how your lips twitched against the strain "Uh-huh~"

Just as fast as you put that smile on, it dropped into your resting face aside from your lips which were in a slight frown. "Like calling me a fat-ass is such a better way, bleach boy."

It was now his turn for his eyes to roll, "Real mature Toots."

"Oh shove it up your ass Jeff."

Annoyance aside, he was genuinely letting his semi speak for him, and the way you insulted him almost made his semi not a semi anymore. Still, he needed another screaming match to fully get into the mood; deep down, he knew that you needed it too.

"A better way to say good morning to me toots is by sucking my cock."

Your face was stuck in disbelief, your eyes flicked up and down his whole being. You were dumbfounded but when you saw a noticeable bulge in his pajama pants you immediately knew why he was saying this. You let disgust run all over your body, the only thing you wanted in you right now was food and even that was iffy since your appetite was draining by the second while you were with him.

"Really Jeff? As if I'll put that thing in my mouth- won't even reach past my gums." You sneered, looking away from him and towards the empty cabinets, a smirk came across your face.

Jeff rolled his eyes, annoyed but turned on even more now. He came closer to you, now standing in front of you. Towering over you even though he wasn't the tallest guy in the house but here, compared to you he was. He was currently taking up your side view, It made your breath hitched slightly, and the excitement rumbled in a ball in your chest, you felt it every time you breathe.

"You weren't saying that last time doll, you know that." Jeff's sleepiness rasp to his voice was actually sending tingles down your spine, just the excitement of getting into not actually an argument but a bickerment was enough to get over the hatred you had for this man, and get into the pure lust you had instead.

"Who got overwhelmed by my size? screaming about how big it was huh?" Jeff was still teasing you and seemingly his craved smile stretched even wider when he caught your cheeks starting to redden.

He only wants to continue this. wanting to see how red your cheeks would get.

"I saw how your little tummy bulged out when I was absolutely balls deep in you, Doll." Jeff couldn't help but smile more. Now his actual smile was now mocking his carved one.

You couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks causing them to mimick the color now. The redder they got the cockier Jeff got. His ego was inflating and he wouldn't stop until you were naked and squirming underneath him.

"Shut up Jeff. I swear." You murmured, barely able to get it out of your mouth. You swear that the heat from your cheeks was getting in the way of talking, Jeff picked up on this as well and it only pushed him to keep teasing you.

"Come on now can't defend yourself now? Come onnn call me stupid or something sweetface."

Before you could even get a word out he continued.

"See absolutely speechless because of me teasing you? Wow, would never thought that I would see the day that Y/N didn't have anything to say."

He looks proud of himself but a better word for it would be cocky, you thought. He kept going on about his small victory and soon his words snuffed the heat right out of your cheeks. You needed to shut him up somehow before his cockiness also snuffed out your lust. Thankfully, you had just the idea.

You pushed him into the wall, cutting him off in the midst of another boast. You looked up at him with a devilish smirk as you gently pulled up his white tank revealing his lean but toned body, and that happy trail as well. When the shock subsided he immediately got the hint, smirking down at you, while his eyes watched you carefully.

Your hand slid down his pajama pants feeling that same semi he had while you were insulting him. Now you could feel the effect that you always knew you had on him. You, almost at a painstaking pace started to rub his cock. as you started to kiss all over his chest. Sloppy wet kisses, leaving a trail of slight purple bruises as the blood rose to his snow-white skin.

He could only groan softly, keeping his voice hushed because y'all were next to the kitchen door: He couldn't let anyone see him like this, pinned up against the wall, shirt pushed up his chest and you teasing him. He couldn't be seen especially with you. His pride wouldn't possibly let the entire mansion or a single person know that he could stand for a second or even a quick fuck.

The kisses got meaner with time, now biting into his surprisingly soft skin which made it a lot harder for him to conceal his moans and groans.

"Fuck.. Doll." He whined which made you smile against his ribcage. The noise was delicious, and you didn't expect that you would get that from Jeff of all people.

A soft giggle left your lips and was muffled by the bruised flesh currently in your teeth. Your hand that rubbed his semi-to-a-full erection paused its movements as you got an idea that would be rather fun to execute and hopefully get another delicious whine from him.

Your lips left his ribcage and your teeth left their marks in the now red-purple love bruise. Your lips made a trail of now soft and sweet kisses up his chest. No one could tell that you hated this man with how soft you were being in this moment.

You paused when your mouth hovered over his right nipple. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he looked mostly confused why you stopped kissing him. He liked it despite how rough you were. Little did he know what you had in mind.

"Doll- what are yo-"

You cut him off but wrapped your pretty lips around his nipple and gently sucked on it like he had done to you during past hookups. You ever so slightly let your tongue graze again the hardening pebble.

Pitiful groans came from Jeff's mouth, he was shocked that he could muster up these sounds.

With a wet plop, you stopped sucking, leaving Jeff to scramble to catch his breath and thoughts. When he looked like he had a smidge of it back, you had your two front teeth and bottom teeth around the now reddish pink bud, the color similar to your blush from earlier.

A groan that ended off with a high pitch whine when you started to roll the bud in between your teeth, wriggling your tongue on the top part.

"Fuuuck Duh-Duh... Doll."

That free hand of yours had a similar mind as it went up to his lone nipple gently flicking it and pinching it.

Jeff was a blushing mess, happy that your view was only on his chest cause he would have hated to see your reaction to him like this.

You didn't stop until his right nipple was bright red and slightly puffy.

Jeff reached for your face which had some drool pouring out of your mouth and onto his chest. He absolutely didn't care, pulling you up to his height by your face so he could roughly make out with you. His scarred skin rubbed against yours, tounges smashed together and so did moans. Accidentally bumping teeth when either of you got a little too excited.

You struggled some with the height difference and the way you felt like you were just held up by your neck, so during the make-out, you climbed him like the bean pole he was. He easily helped you: his hands grabbing massive greedy heaps of your thighs, squeezing it hard to start making his own marks on your body.

Drool seeped out from the corners of y'alls mouths.

Finally, he pulled away so your lungs could take gulps of air. He moved to your neck where your pulse was beating the strongest and started biting and sucking: His hands moved to one of his personal favorite body parts of yours: your ass. His hands which looked to be made for piano left imprints.

Your moans filled the kitchen now and weren't the least bit quiet: fuelling him to carry you to the old island in the middle of the kitchen and plopped your bruised ass on the yellowed marble counter.

His greedy mouth traveled down your chest leaving wide 'O' shaped burst blood vessels. You felt your body warming up, you couldn't see all too well, blinded by lust. All that mattered was taking this man in every way y'all saw fit.

Jeff ripped open your shirt, sloppily sucking on your breasts in any way they could fit in his mouth. he didn't care what part he just wanted to suck on them and also for them to be marked since you did one hell of a job on his chest.

"Jefff fuuuck~"

"Now you're moaning my name toots." He said his voice muffled by your marked flesh still halfway in his mouth. "Good." He huffed, his mouth now going lower.

He left a couple marks on your tummy, didn't want to spend too much time there but didn't want to leave it bare. He couldn't wait. He wanted to taste you. To swirl his tongue around in your insides. quite hastily he pulled your underwear down to around your ankles and threw your legs over his shoulders: making you lay your warm naked back against the cold marble which made your nipples hard and that caught his attention.

He flicked his eyes back up to your breasts, taking in the sight before he reached out and grabbed them roughly leaving the same hand-shaped imprints.

His eyes looked wild as ever. the pupil constricted into a pin-point like a parrot who just learned how to say "fuck". Those wild eyes traced your body from your tits down to your pussy, pretty and glistening from all the excitement and fun y'all had earlier. He reached down, gently taking his index finger and rubbing the slit of your cunt. From how he grabbed you earlier you weren't expecting this. How he so delicately touched you as if you were a brittle piece of bone, threatening to snap

You greedily tried to move your hips, trying to push yourself against his hand so you could feel more. The red flush on your face now was out of frustration since he In perfect timing moved his hand so you just missed his fingers by a hair.

"Nuh uh uh toots. Not yet." He said through gritted teeth as if he was straining to hold even himself back from completely devouring you. "I wanna hear something?"

"What Jeff? Whaaat" You whined, now sitting up half-assed.

"Beg."

"I am not-"

"Shut up Doll: You did it before."

"Im not doing it this ti-"

You were cut off by a long moan erupting from your mouth one of Jeff's long fingers slid up inside you, bottoming out easily. the beginning of his palm right against your clit. You were knocked back on your back, legs naturally spreading open for this man which pulled him in closer due to your panties still being around your ankles.

"Please Jeff."

Jeff stood above you, jaw unclenched as now he worked his hand shoving his ring finger in to join his middle one.

"That's all you had to say bitch.. GOD, you're so hot like this." He groaned, pulling back as he lowered himself to be in direct line of sight of your pussy. He moved his hand so his palm wasn't covering your now swollen clit, His natural smile was now ear to ear before he leaned over and started to suck lightly on your clit which sent your hips into wild motions so wild in fact that he had to reach up with his free hand and firmly press it against your belly to keep you still enough while he tasted you.

He worked his fingers into you hard but slow, thrusting into you as if he was fucking you with his cock, his tongue flicking around your clit. he changed his thrusts to the scissoring motion when he noticed you tightening up on him, your pussy throbbing wildly, your moans pleads, and whimpers all in his ears.

He moaned along with you, seemingly getting off to see you getting off. Strangely, you twos emotions were always tied together.

Maybe it was from all practice he had but he genuinely felt you were close, it must've been muscle memory.

His fingers worked rough, sloppily thrusting into you with no real timing or pacing. His tongue and mouth got sloppier and so did his hold on you which meant you could buck all you wanted. You squeezed tighter on his fingers genuinely feeling a big knot in your stomach, only tightening more and more with how more messy Jeff has gotten.

His mouth trailed off, his tongue joining his fingers in your hole while his other hand's fingers rubbed your clit, flicking it back and forth between his index and middle finger.

The muscles in your legs twitched and generally shake as if that would help you hold in the need to come undone under jeff's talented hands and mouth.

The knot only swelled and so did the upcoming scream in your throat. In time, you clasp your hand over your mouth muffling the guttural scream the best you can.

You came and came hard, juices gushing out of your hole and onto Jeff's fingers and waiting mouth. He looked up at you, your whole body flushed a rosy pink. Your mouth agape taking in greedy breaths, boobs bouncing slightly from your chest moving.

"Jesus toots almost drowned me." He grinned, at how annoyed you looked. He straightened up, his chin still dripping with your fluids, he stuck his fingers into your hanging mouth.

"Suck." He ordered, eyes lowering but the smile was still the same.

You closed your mouth around his fingers and gave it gentle sucks, savoring the taste of yourself much to the enjoyment of Jeff. his eyes sparkled when you kept sucking even when he tried to pull them out.

He pulled you by your hips closer to him, his pajama pants barely able to hang on. He barely pulled them down, just enough so that he could take out his cock.

"I know you been wanting this~"

"Shut up Jeff."

"What am I wrong toots?"

"Ye-" A loud moan interrupted you when he shoved himself into your needy cunt, gladly sucking in all of his length.

He joined your choir of moans as being in your tight pussy was enough for his knees almost to buckle. He was hunched over you, god he could swear to a priest that this pussy was the closest thing to heaven he has ever known. He gave only shallow thrusts which were enough for you both to shudder and whine. You from being overly sensitive and him from just edging himself.

"Fuck toots- god!"

He thrust into you hard one time and you both saw stars. Jeff was hunched over you like a lion eating its's meal, his hands found a way towards your hair and pulled it backward, making you stay in an arch position. He gave you more brutal thrusts, knocking every damn thought out of ya.

"Cant fucking think huh doll?" Jeff mocked you for the glazed-over look you had in your eyes. Your tongue hanging out like a puppy-dog.

"Fuck you." your tongue found it's way back into your mouth and hurled that at him.

"You're already doing that sweetheart~" He cooed looking down at your pretty face, which know had more of a glare on it then lust.

He kept the same deep pace with you, looking intently into your eyes.

"Fu-fuck you jeff! I hate you!"

Your pussy squeezed around him almost like it was milking him. His thrusts only grew rougher as his smile grew wider.

"hate me huh? Dont hate me enough not to fuck me~ God you're such a stupid little slut."

The way he was bottoming you out on repeat was making you stammer on your words. "Shut shut shut up-"

"Or else what bitch? Am I the only guy you fuck in the house or just the one that does it the best?'

His index and middle finger went to rub your clit. pressing harder down on it. You couldn't help but to buck your hips again. The knot in your belly finding the loose strings and tying itself up again.

"Jesus christ Jeffery- You're such a fucking asshole- Can't even- make me cum again." You said through gritted teeth, the way you had to suppress moans just to say that drove you insane. And deep down you knew that he was gonna make you cum again by how the knot was quickly tightening up.

"Oh? I can't, news to me bitch." He slow down but still trusted into you hard enough for you not to complain. His hand went off of your clit and onto your belly pressing down on it. He could feel his own cock going in and out.

His other hand loosens up on your hair, allowing you to move a little and you did, propping yourself up on your elbows, looking him right in his cocky face.

"fuck smiles-" You moaned and he laughed.

Your hand went and grabbed his hair pulling him to your lips. The smart way of shutting him up, can't brag if he's busy swirling tongues.

The kiss was hot and heavy and soon you both got sloppier. Jeff with his thrusts and tongue and you with your tongue.

your facades both fell apart and you two wildly fucked into each other. Not thinking about the rivalry, the other people living here, nothing at all but getting each other off.

The knot was unbearabley tight, your thighs twitching like mad around his waist, squeezing him a little tighter. Jeff pushed you flat on your back, now chest to chest with your tongues still locked together. Moans seeping out in between the little breaks in the kiss. You pulled away to fully let out a louder moan and you could feel jeff's hot breaths against your cheek. He smelled of you.

"Jeff... I'm gonna cum."

"Fuck me too."

Jeff got sloppier like how he did when he was fingering you. No rhythm or pacing to it, fucking into you rough. Whatever felt good to him he just did it. Rocking his hips into you at a brutal pace. He lifted himself off of your chest, his hands taking greedy handfuls of your thighs and squeezing hard, matching the brutal way he was fucking you. He was holding you as if you would run away but you did quite the opposite, fucking yourself back against him when he wasn't pulling you against his thrusts.

When you did have your eyes open, you caught glimpses of him staring at you with such an intensity it made your pussy throb. His jaw clenched, eyes crazy but scanning your whole body drinking the view in.

It felt like hours going on like this but a couple more thrusts made you cum, your body seized up, tightening your pussy around him before just gushing all over his pelvis, thoroughly soaking his pajama pants that were loosely hanging around his thighs. Seeing you being sent over the edge was what he needed to come undone, with one last thrust he filled you up to the brim, his legs shaking as he dumped every last drop into you.

He then slouched and laid on your chest, his face resting in the nook of your neck. You both lay there, breathing heavily but in sync. Somehow your hands found their way to his back, your finger drawing invisible circles on his shoulder blade.

When both of ya'lls breathing stopped resembling that of an asthmatic kid who just got done running the mile, Jeff picked his head up. A gentle smile against his carved one.

"i'll make us breakfast, toots."

[tuliptired]

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.  

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!” 

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either. 

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.” 

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.” 

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant. 

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art. 

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging.  It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

 You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?” 

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that. 

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one. 

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?” 

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong-  was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?” 

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.” 

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?” 

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.” 

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-” 

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?” 

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.” 

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part two]

Summary: A few weeks after initiating her training with the Valkyries, Eowyn decides to run some errands in Velaris. A self-date never hurt anyone, right?

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: none. briefly mentions the passing of a pet (my greatest fear).

Minors, do not interact.

A/N: so i technically listened to the ACOTAR series so a lot got lost in the void of my mind. if there's something SJM mentions in the novels that I forgot lets just pretend i didn't. also the image isn't exactly what I picture Eowyn's face covering to look like, but its similar enough. i'm also reluctant to call it a niqāb as it may contain religious connotations and i wouldn't want to offend anyone, nor does the story suggest it's due to religious beliefs. if there's anything suggesting differently from the reader's perspective, please let me know and I'll fix it immediately

part 1

Masterlist

"If I could go back to a time before now

Before I ever fell down

Go back to a time when I was just a girl

When I had the whole world

Gently wrapped around me"

Weyes Blood, A Lot's Gonna Change

In the weeks that followed her initial introduction to training with the Illyrians and the Valkyries, she felt a change within her.

Well, not considering how she’d almost quit by the end of the first week due to how sore she was. She’d had a change of heart when she saw the elation in Ananke when she finally managed to cut the ribbon, however. The cheer that erupted from the vocal priestesses and the look of accomplishment and pride on Ananke’s face was contagious enough for her to decide to stay. She might as well do that, she figured, for although the hefty daily exercises were strenuous on her body, they accomplished little to nothing to quiet her mind.

Dressed in comfortably loose skirts and a blouse in dark cool tones, she let out a weary breath, fixing the black laced mantilla placed over her head. From the middle of the dark fabric fell a thin silver chain across the center of her forehead, clasped onto the matching silver chain on the trim of the soft fabric covering the bottom half of her face.

Despite her slightly rattled nerves, opening one of the heavy doors leading out to the city of Velaris was somehow not as intimidating as it had been before. Immediately, her mind attributed it to her recent training, surely pulling her own body weight on a bar repeatedly for several sets had made it easier for her to open the heavy ancient doors, but she also knew it was more than that. It was the fact that it didn’t take her usual twenty minutes of steeling herself to leave the library— it only took eight.

That, she knew she couldn’t credit training for, entirely.

Although she’d never been one to easily make friends, oftentimes too lost in her own musings to seek further than surface-level conversations with her companions, she’d found an unexpected but welcomed sort of camaraderie with a few of the priestesses in the training ring, including Nesta and Emerie who, although weren’t priestesses themselves were oftentimes jumbled up together in name, if they weren’t being called Valkyries. Mirna, Desmodena, and Eowyn had only just joined the larger group of priestesses, making a total of ten priestesses training all at once in unison. The only separate group were the three original female fighters, who mostly trained with Cassian, or Azriel on the off chance that Cassian hyper focused on so-and-so’s form and dagger grip.

Still, it was Gwyn with whom she’d found herself spending more time with, although mostly outside of the ring as they walked through the library's many floors. Which, by extension, led to her growing friendship with Nesta and Emerie, the latter who she found took immense pleasure in making her laugh. Nesta, on the other hand, while not outright rude, was perhaps just as cynical as Eowyn herself, which gave way for an unspoken understanding— thick melted chocolate in texture, compared to the easy flowing nectar of her closeness to Emerie and Gwyn.

Her steps, brisk in nature but slightly stilted in discomfort soon fell back on the ease of slithering through busy city streets, a certain knowledge in the marrow of her bones that refused to forget something that was once so familiar. To walk through a busy city street wasn’t an easy thing to learn at once, but once learned, was something that was never forgotten.

The bell above the apothecary door signaled her entrance, pulling a hefty small fae from her book, which at a quick glance was clearly similar to the smutty romances the girls liked to read so much. She chuckled lightly under her breath, smiling at the herbalist gently despite the fact that the female couldn’t see anything but her dark eyes, and held it still, even as the fae watched her with clear unease, seeming half a second away from kicking her out the door.

“Good evening,” Eowyn greeted politely, “I’ve come to pick up an order from the Library.”

“Y-yes, let me get that for you,” the fae stumbled over her words, relief seeming to fall over her face as she turned and disappeared in the backroom.

Eowyn took that time to roam around the store, taking note of the array of trinkets sold, made of quarts and precious minerals and stones. The side of the wall displayed what looked like thousands of tins and small packages of teas, all displaying labels with what the remedies contained and what they were recommended for. She chuckled to herself when she took notice of the one labeled Love, although the ingredients were curiously not listed.

She took it in her hand, opening her mouth to call out to the herbalist and ask her what the special little tea contained when she felt a shift in the air. A second before the bell of the apothecary door could sound to signal someone else’s entrance, Eowyn flitted, hiding herself from view behind a tall shelf in the center of store, promoting a two-for-one deal on candles that were labeled with the same intentions of the teas in the wall behind her.

Ducking slightly to peek through the thin gap in the shelf she bit her tongue to keep herself from gasping in surprise at the sight of the Shadowsinger, who reached the counter in three strides, scarred hand impatiently slamming over the bell to ring for the owner.

“Coming! I’m coming!” her muffled yell called out from the back.

When a cold soft breeze touched her ankle, like the mist of a cloud but leaving no trace behind, she looked down to her feet to see Azriel’s shadows dancing around her feet. She grimaced slightly at the idea of being caught in the act. Not that she was doing anything wrong, of course, but the thought of him catching her hiding behind a shelf with a love drink in her hand made her cheeks flush.

She brought her index finger to mouth, signaling for the shadows to keep quiet but no sooner had she done so when Azriel’s voice called out. “I know you’re here, Eowyn.”

A shiver ran down her spine unexpectedly at the sound of her name coming from his lips.

“Traitors,” she hissed lightly to the shadows, quickly sliding the tin in her hands onto the shelf at her side before revealing herself.

“Hello,” she cleared her throat.

His face, always unreadable, remained so as he turned to face her, but she noticed the amusement glinting in his eyes before they came into contact with hers. In a fraction of a second, they widened ever so slightly, just barely enough for her to note the surprise before he schooled his features back into place.

“They said nothing,” he corrected, although one of his shadows curled around his ear. “I smelled you before I even came in. They did tell me however, that you seemed rather interested in buying a…love tonic, is it? Ah, sorry, a love tea.”

“That is something you don’t want to play around with, boy,” the herbalist interrupted, coming back from the back room with a heavy sealed box in her hands. She placed it on the counter with a huff, “You give that to your sick pets, you see. You boil it, let it cool, and put it in their water bowl. It’s for when they’re getting old and on death’s door. It helps keep them happy and untouched by pain until the time comes…” she drifted off, voice carrying a note of sadness. “I made it for my cat, you know. By my side for a hundred and seventy-one years, Love was,” she sighed, “I haven’t got a chance to finish the label.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Eowyn spoke immediately, fascinated by the herbalist's unrepressed emotions.

“Yeah well,” the herbalist tried to shrug it off, shyly wiping at her eyes. “Here ya go, my girl. You tell Clotho to take it easy on the sleeping dwale. Too much of that and you can grow dependent on it— and what’s worse is it loses its potency the more tolerance you build.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eowyn replied smoothly, not giving anything away, she was sure. Not even to the spymaster. “And thank you.”

“Now, what can I get for you?” She turned to the shadowsinger, but his gaze remained on Eowyn.

“I- do you need help carrying that back?” He interrupted himself to ask, but blinked at her when she made it disappear into the pocket realm without much effort.

“I’m good, thank you,” she smiled politely, deciding rather determinedly that she wouldn’t focus on the way he’d acted so out of character by teasing her of all things before being kind.

Not that he was typically rude or anything of the sort. He was just mostly…. there. Brooding. Face as emotionless and still as it was beautiful.

And did he say he smelled her when he came in? What the hell was that about?

“Have a good day!” She called out over her shoulder, cutting him off before he could insist as she sped out of the door and into the busy streets.

She made her way through the city, collecting pre-ordered packages from various stores and putting them in the pocket realm with the rest of her haul. By the time she made it to the Street of Iron, she was tired and hungry and more than a little dizzy from the amount of people huddling around her. She was used to being around no more than fifteen people at once, so to be going in and out of crowds for hours on end was starting to take a toll on her.

As was customary in the city, a bell signaled her entrance to the blacksmiths. The wave of heat suddenly wafted over her form, causing her to tighten her grip on her belongings, more than ready to step back outside. But she had an errand to run, a favor to do for her friend and she wouldn’t let Gwyn down just because it was hot inside the shop. 

After a quick inspection around herself to make sure there weren’t any lingering shadows following her about, she approached the counter, ringing the bell once to signal her entry.

“What can I do for you, lass?” a tall burly male asked from behind the counter, unshaven and with ash smeared across his face.

He looked familiar, in the way people originating from the same region look familiar, making Eowyn wonder how many families originating from the Winter Court resided in Velaris. And from other courts too, that is. 

“I have it under good authority this is where the Night Court's shadowsinger purchases his weapons,” she began to explain, “I’m looking to buy something for him, a blade. Something simple but something to his liking.”

The swordsmith gave her a curious, if not confused look. “The Shadowsinger hasn’t patronized this establishment in a few centuries, lass, but I reckon I still remember the Lord of Shadow’s taste.”

Lord of Shadows, huh? She almost snorted at the thought.

She considered his words to herself as he went off to search for what Gwyn had requested, if Azriel hadn’t bought any weapons from Eamon— if he was indeed the Eamon referred to on the store sign in the front— in centuries, how was this establishment his favorite?

She reminded herself that Gwyn had gotten that information straight from Mor, who was one of the most important people in Azriel’s life (and still continued to be—Gwyn had whispered conspiratorially one night as they talked in the lower levels of the library— even after being in love with the gorgeous blonde for well over five hundred years, before Elain was turned into fae. Eowyn had bristled in surprise at that, “isn’t Elain mated to one of the Autumn court sons?” she had asked, at that point so invested in the never ending drama that seemed to follow the members of the Inner Circle, that she didn’t care she had to finish writing her proposal to the High Lord for the funding of her greenhouse project she had planned, too entertained by their shenanigans. Gwyn had only nodded grimly).

So clearly, Gwyn knew what she was talking about.

When the blacksmith came back with a bronzed blade, showing it to her and exclaiming it was exactly the type of blade the Morrigan herself would pick out for the Shadowsinger, Eowyn took it. But not before her eye caught sight of something winking at her over the smith’s shoulder.

No, not winking or shining, exactly, considering it was so dark the blade itself seemed to absorb the darkness surrounding it. There was no light reflecting off of it whatsoever. Still… it called to her.

“May I see that one?” she asked, pointing at the blade.

“Oh I highly doubt the Master of Shadows would be interested in an obsidian dagger,” the smith shook his head but grabbed the blade anyway, turning it over in his hand to show her, “it’s a very fickle material, you see. The blade is made of obsidian stone, which is a type of volcanic rock that can break as easily as glass.”

“What's the point of making such a brittle weapon then?” she quietly echoed words she’d spoken long ago, musing mostly to herself.

“Ah, you see obsidian,” he began, his eyes suddenly lighting in nostalgic remembrance, “it provides for one of the sharpest edges that we know of.”

“So when it breaks, it leaves another jagged blade in its place,” she recited knowingly, not quite catching the way he nodded approvingly at her before he tilted his head, suddenly looking upon her differently.

Before he could ask her anything however, she proclaimed she wanted to purchase both blades and did so, making sure to have the blade intended for Azriel tucked within reach in the pocket realm, while fixing the obsidian blade in its sheath under her robes around her waist.

By the time she left the blacksmith’s shop, the position of the sun told her it was mid afternoon, as the sun only just began to inch towards the horizon. Feeling immensely proud of herself for successfully finishing her errands without needing to stop even once in alley to catch her breath or stumble into a restaurant, face-paled, and seemingly seconds away from either passing out or dying on the spot, she even felt further encouraged to continue on her adventure and perhaps indulge in a sweet treat for herself.

And so she did. With some kind of delicious seasonal concoction in her grasp, she picked out the most out-of-sight shaded table to sip at her spiced tea with steamed milk and simply… observed. She sat for the better half of an hour simply watching the fae live their lives, either rushing to work or strolling home. Some were shopping, others walked in groups, all beautiful and dressed to the tens, smelling strongly of wine and whiskey, and she found herself thoroughly enjoying herself. Remembering times when she was one of them.

When the sun inched even closer to the horizon, she finally stood, deciding to take the long walk back to the library, through the artist’s quarter, an avenue that she knew was a staple in the lives of the residents of Velaris.

One particular studio, not as boisterous or welcoming as others, caught her attention, or rather, a painting only barely visible from the window beckoned her inside. Needing to see the painting from up close, she didn’t hesitate to walk in, not noticing until a few minutes of her standing in front of the enchanting painting of a forest, too lost in the familiarity depicted, to notice the door had failed to signal her entrance, not having a bell above the door to do so, until she heard a strange sound come from somewhere in the back, a mix of a gasp and a yelp.

She turned to the sound immediately to find a rather pretty high fae, dressed in paint-splattered overalls, staring at her in what looked like confusion and a smidge of trepidation.

“Who are you?” The female questioned immediately and Eowyn could do nothing but blink back at her tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you closing soon?” A quick look around told her the space she thought was maybe some kind of small exhibit actually contained no true coherency, no descriptions under the paintings, and certainly no invitation whatsoever from the windows that looked out into the streets of Velaris. Realization dawning on her, Eowyn couldn’t help the embarrassed grimace, “oh… this is- this is a private studio isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes?” The female confirmed, but it sounded more like a question.

“I’m so sorry,” Eowyn apologized again, shifting in place as her eyes shot to the door, seconds away from running out until the female spoke again.

“No, no need to apologize, I was expecting my mate to come in so I didn’t lock the door. Foolish of me, honestly,” she chastised herself. Then her eyes caught Eowyn’s and something about the gray-blue shade of them made something in her brain perk up at attention. “I- was it this piece that caught your attention?” She turned to the painting that had called Eowyn in like a siren’s song, “I’ll admit I don’t think I’ve looked at this piece again since I finished it,” she tilted her head to the side, considering, “have you been?”

But Eowyn only shook her head, unsure of how to respond. “It just.. felt familiar, I think.”

The female hummed but didn’t reply, eyes seeming to scan her. “Are you… a priestess?”

And something about the way she spoke, the strength in her voice despite the sliver of uncertainty, caused understanding to click into place. And if that wasn’t proof enough then the following cry emitted from a small bundle cradled within a tiny bassinet in the furthest wall from the entrance, semi-hidden behind a canvas, would’ve given her away.

“My Lady,” Eowyn gasped, immediately dropping into a quick curtsy, even as the High Lady walked over to her whining babe, “I apologize, I didn’t know this was your private studio. I truly had no intention of bothering you-“

“You’re not, don’t worry about it,” the High Lady waved her off, eyes focused on the fussing baby she now cradled into her arms, shushing the babe gently as she bounced and rocked him. “Well? Are you?”

Sorry? Of course I am, Eowyn almost said, still spiraling at the fact that she’d just casually stumbled into what was essentially her court’s matriarch’s chambers, even if it was no different than any other store in a rather public area of the city. Then she remembered what her High Lady had asked. “Oh, a priestess?” She confirmed, “yes, well… something like that. I uh, I work for Clotho in the Library, if that’s what you mean. I’m-“ she hesitated, unsure, “I’m friends with Nesta. Kind of.”

But the High Lady took no offense, instead she surprised Eowyn when she snorted, “‘kind of’ sounds about right, although from what I’ve heard, my sister has been doing a good job of making friends lately,” she smiled at her warmly, “I’m glad of it.”

Eowyn could only smile back, if a bit awkwardly once she realized the High Lady couldn’t see anything but her eyes.

“I-“ she cleared her throat, eyes snapping to the gurgling babe in her arms, “I’d like to offer my congratulations for a successful birth, if that’s not too intrusive of me to say. I… well, we heard about the difficulties you were facing when the High Lord asked us to help him research all those months ago, and- well, I’m just glad everything worked out in the end.”

“Me too,” Feyre smiled at her, turning her attention to look at her son adoringly.

“May I ask their name?”

“We named him Nyx,” her smile widened, seemingly pleased at her question and the opportunity to gush about her baby.

At Eowyn’s hesitation, Feyre looked back up at her, eyes encouraging. Shyly but encouraged by her warm eyes, she asked, “may I see him?” Her voice was soft and low, “I’ve never seen a babe before.”

“You haven’t?” The High Lady’s eyes widened in surprise.

She gently pulled back at the thin material to reveal a minuscule wrinkled little face, tiny fingers gripping at the air at nothing. Although the child had little to no hair, the few tuff of soft looking feathered hair were as dark as night, his eyes still glazed with the initial protective membrane of a newborn depicting no true color until the child’s third year of age, according to some of the books the female fae had read about fae infants.

Although the High Lady presented her son proudly, Eowyn took notice of the way she didn’t offer the babe to her nor allowed for Eowyn to get too close, in a way that was not only expected of her but entirely necessary for her to do as one of the rulers of the court and a new fae mother.

Eowyn didn’t mind, however, as she remained in place with her hands clasped behind her back, only watching the baby’s toothless babbling fondly.

“I haven’t,” she replied, “I was the youngest of quite a large family, and none of my brothers had any children before I left for university,” she found herself explaining, unsure of why she wanted the High Lady to trust that she would never do anything to bring harm to her or her child. The cynical part of her mind considered that it could never hurt anyone to be in the High Lady’s good side, but despite herself, logic was not driving her, it was an unexplainable sense of familiarity with the High Lady that did. As if she knew her, as if she owed it to her to be accommodating and gentle.

And truly, she deserved no less. She had saved Prythian from Amarantha, after all.

“Was that long ago?” Feyre asked gently, if slightly stilted and Eowyn grinned behind her veil, amused at the lingering humanity of her High Lady.

“I’m two-hundred and seventy-six years old,” she answered her unspoken question, “which means I’ve spent more than half of my life either with my nose in a book or talking about whatever I found in those books, which left little room to visit any place where children could be. I wasn’t exactly looking for them, either,” she admitted, not noticing when she’d lifted one of her hands, only her smallest finger held out near the babe, where he gripped her with surprising strength in his little fist.

“Perhaps Heracles would have been a more fitting name,” she suggested mildly, causing Feyre to chuckle, eyes alight with humor.

“You know of the human stories?” 

Eowyn nodded and hummed in response, “I’ve always found human legends and mythologies fascinating,” she confessed, “it took up much more of my research than was necessary—“

Suddenly a whooshing sound caught Eowyn’s attention, causing her head to snap to the door. Without thinking about it, she angled herself to stand in front of her High Lady and the babe, eyes set firmly on the door when it flew open, revealing Cassian.

Eowyn exhaled in relief just as Feyre chuckled behind her, “everything okay, Cass?”

His eyes flicked between the two females, releasing his own relieved breath, “yeah yeah, just looking for Eowyn.”

“Me?” She asked, startled.

“Clotho told Rhys she was expecting you a couple hours ago. We’ve been looking for you for about an hour now, missy,” he chided playfully, eyes back to their natural mirth now that he knew he didn’t have to search further for her. 

Embarrassed, she apologized to him profusely but he merely waved her away. “Really, it’s no problem. I'm just glad we found you,” but then his eyes glazed over slightly as if lost in thought.

Eowyn’s eyebrows scrunched, glancing at Feyre in concern only to have the High Lady chuckle at her reaction. “He’s letting Rhys know you’re fine.”

Ah, right. Daemati beings, their monarchs were.

Eowyn found herself slightly disappointed to leave mid-conversation, but she graciously thanked her High Lady for her time and apologized once again for invading her space. Feyre was quick to assure her, admitting she was curious to keep talking to her and even asked if she’d be willing to receive her at the library if she wasn’t comfortable joining her in the River House.

After agreeing to stay in touch, Feyre walked them out before locking the door behind them, not after assuring Cassian a half-dozen times that Rhys was already on his way to take both her and Nyx back home.

Eowyn and Cassian walked in comfortable silence in the direction of the library when she shivered slightly from the cold, mentally cursing herself for deciding to take the long way back earlier in the day. 

“You know, I could just… fly us back to the house,” he suggested mildly, not looking at her, “if you’re comfortable, of course.”

“I-“ she hesitated, mentally weighing her options.

“Or we can walk, I’ve no problem with that. It’s about two and a half miles back to the house, which is about a five minute flight but if you want to walk I’m sure you’ll warm up with the exercise.”

“Oh it’s not you,” she assured quickly, “I’ve just never… not been grounded before,” she explained awkwardly.

He only chuckled under his breath, eyes glinting with mischief, “you afraid of heights, Wynnie?”

The nickname and the challenge in his tone sparked something she had believed to be dead and buried deep within her, not realizing how present the sentiment was until that moment. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since her formative years, a sibling-like teasing that was both mocking and cruel as it was gentle and sweet. She hadn’t been called that since… well.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” the sharp words were out of her mouth before she could think, as was any kind of sense and sign of maturity, “and don’t call me that.”

He chortled, seemingly taken aback by the quickness at which she replied, but his grin only grew and she knew she’d made a mistake to show her distaste for the nickname.

“Is that a yes to flying then?” When she nodded, he only smirked at her. “Good, my wings were getting cold. Now, here, I’m gonna hook one arm under your knees and the other around your upper back, maybe under your armpit if I need to adjust your weight, is that alright with you, Wynnie?”

When she agreed, with an exaggerated eye roll, if only to hide her nerves, not having been near a male in so long that even if she felt no attraction to the objectively beautiful male, she still felt herself stiffen at his proximity. He placed his hands exactly where he said he would, not seeming to falter the slightest under her weight before taking off into the skies. She held her breath, feeling the panic surge the higher they went, but once they were elevated high above the city streets, she found herself breathless for an entirely different reason.

“Oh wow,” she sighed under her breath, eyes glued to the city under her.

“Haven’t seen Velaris at night like this?” He sounded surprised, “how long have you been here, now?”

“About half a century,” she replied absentmindedly, taking in the array of city lights and life of the city of Night. “But you know we don’t leave the library… especially at night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, “hm, and why were you out and about today then?” He asked, although not judgmental or intrusive, his tone carrying the same distantly familiar teasing lilt.

But the shift in the air, the sound of whooshing wings caught her attention, causing her to tear her eyes from the city lights and over Cassian’s shoulder to see Azriel quickly approaching them.

His eyes locked on hers, face as serious and emotionless as always, as he only offered her a nod in acknowledgment.

“I was running errands,” her voice trailed off, suddenly feeling too exposed.

They flew the rest of the way in comfortable silence, other than Cassian pointing out different sections: the Street of Iron, the Sidra to which Eowyn rolled her eyes and mumbled no, really? under her breath which encouraged him to pretend to drop her, laughing all the while. She remained silent for the rest of the ride, pale and clutching onto his shoulders with her nails, deciding on making a formal complaint to his mate for her to deal with as she saw fit, and she told him so when her feet landed softly on the landing pad in the House of Wind. 

She would’ve preferred being taken directly to the library entrance, but she kept that to herself, aware that it would cause an unnecessary trip around the other side of the mountain and she could just as easily take the stairs down. The fact that the general and the shadowsinger had taken the time to look for her was obtrusive of her enough.

And so she thanked the still laughing general, both for looking for her and for flying her home, to which he grinned graciously back at her, telling her he expected her at her best the following morning for training and bidding her goodnight over his shoulder as he made his way inside. 

She turned to look out at the city once more but was surprised to find Azriel unmoved from the spot where he had landed, half expecting him to blend into his shadows and disappear as he was prone to do.

“Oh,” she flinched slightly and watched as his gaze dropped from its place on hers and he moved his hands behind his back, “sorry. You startled me. I uh- goodnight?” she said slowly, unsure of how to act.

“You’re carrying an obsidian dagger,” he stated more than asked, “why?”

“Did you follow me?” She answered with a question of her own.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have looked for you for twenty minutes,” he replied plainly. Twenty. Not the hour Cassian had said he’d looked for her. She noticed his tone no longer held that hint of playfulness that it carried when they ran into each other in the city. She wondered if she’d offended him, somehow.

She figured he had a point and reached inside her robe to take out the blade, eyes locked on his as she flipped it in her hand to hand it to him, helm first. He took it, hand almost entirely enveloping her own as he did, but he didn’t linger on the touch, immediately pulling away with his eyes locked on the dagger. “It’s brittle.”

“It’s beautiful,” she corrected, “and sharp enough to inflict substantial damage.”

“This would be useless in battle,” he frowned at her, and while she noticed that his tone didn’t contain that typical patronizing male sense of omniscience, he was after all, only a male and did not see the bigger picture, “it would kill some soldiers, sure, but mostly cause superficial wounds, especially once it begins to chip and-“

“Become jagged and thus cut more wickedly as it remains sharp. You know, when properly forged, an obsidian edge can be so sharp it can skin the outer layer of an eye without so much as touching the layer underneath,” she sighed, thoughtfully, “and there is of course, the cultural aspects of it-“

“Which would belong to Illyrian traditions as this material only forms under the volcanoes deep within the mountains,” he finished for her without missing a beat, his own eyebrows scrunching together in thought, “what do you know about that?”

“More than you think,” she frowned back, not liking the way he made her feel perceived beyond what she was comfortable with. She took the dagger back, careful not to touch his warm skin although she was half frozen above the mountain, “I know they can be used for religious practices, the crystallized volcanic glass was believed to be the Mother’s spilt blood from the life she created, which hardened into an igneous rock devoid of all color,” she inspected the blade, looking up at him to see his eyes set on her rather than the dagger.

She inhaled sharply, “and anyway, I just liked it and don’t have to explain to you why I bought it,” she defended, sheathing the dagger before crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped looked more like an indignant action of defense rather than the fact that she was beginning to shiver with cold.

“Right,” he muttered shortly, eyes glancing over her shoulder to the stairs leading into the library. She followed his gaze. “It’s getting late. You should head back inside. Goodnight, Eowyn.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to agree with him but when she turned back to him, he was gone.

part three

[intimidating-fettuccine]

could i request cockwarming with offender? unless its already been done and i just couldn't find it

I feel like this is a lot more tame than one might expect, but it's just my honest opinion on how Fen views it, so I hope you enjoy :) I always love writing for my big romantic guy~

To Offender, cock warming is more of an act of intimacy than what a typical sexual activity might be. If the two of you just wanted to have sex you could do that, but just resting together like that feels so intimate and relaxing to him, so his mind sort of categorizes it differently. I think Offender enjoys it a lot with you when you've been together a while, but I also think he does it more frequently when the two of you are in your earlier stages of doing intimate things together. As an eldritch being, he's got a pretty hefty size, and so it's a way for the two of you to test the waters and get used to having him inside of you without you having to have full sex.

I think he wouldn't even fully start out with you having to take him fully inside. The two of you can lay down together, and he'll just slip himself between your legs and rest there with you applying pressure with your thighs, that way you can work up gradually. After a while of you guys doing that, he'll make sure he has in general stretched you out a bit with his fingers (and probably some toys as well because it's gonna be a tight fit), and he'll slip partially inside of you. He doesn't want to go all the way in on the first try as again, eldritch-sized dick, and he doesn't want to stress your body out. You'll have multiple times together where he gradually gets you more and more used to the size of his cock, until he can fit himself inside of you, and the two of you can go from there. Once you're used to cock warming him in any capacity though, like I said, he loves just doing it as a general act of intimacy rather than only something leading to or following sex.

He views it as a very intimate way to be close to you and cuddle up to you. Watching a movie or a show together and want to be a bit closer? Let him slide between your legs or inside you for a more intimate viewing experience. Taking a bath together and wanna make it a bit more romantic? Sit in his lap and let him slip between or inside of you while you relax amongst the warm water and bubbles. Or, when you're laying in bed together at the end of the night, talking about how your days went and your plans for the rest of the week, just let him do the same thing, and it feels so calming and intimate to be able to do domestic things like that with you while you're cock warming him, and it's one of his all-time favorite activities. Cock warming could lead to sex if the two of you are getting a bit too worked up and desperate, but it doesn't necessarily have to. There are plenty of nights where you might even just end up falling asleep together like that, or where you just spoon like that for a while before just moving on and going about the rest of your night in a normal fashion. While Fen is always down to do something sexual, he does enjoy just having normal intimate moments like that where it's not expected that you have to have sex with him. He just wants you to feel intimate and happy with him as a partner, and he always lets you make the decision of if it's just a little bit of intimate snuggling, or if you'd like it to escalate any further. Regardless, he's just happy and content to be able to be so close to you and feel your warmth around him, no matter how the night ends up finishing.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

august first—r. braun

summary: you fuck reiner as a birthday gift. that’s pretty much it.

notes/content warnings: rough sex, facefucking, degradation, choking, some angst cause relationships are messy, unprotected p in v sex cause we raw dog over here, armin is a sweetheart and eren needs to go to bed, i think i covered everything but let me know if i missed anythin!

this was meant to be a birthday piece for rei 😔*stares in september * to be completely honest i have zero idea how long this ended up being but it’s been taking up space in my drafts and i kinda freestyled it so enjoy sexies <3

the floor is sticky with liquor, limestone tiles splotched with little islands of red as reiner’s body meets it, it’s surface tacky beneath his flushed skin. his head lolls back against the dial of his dishwasher, seeming to relish in the surrounding moment. the apartment is quiet with the din of murmured voices, gentle rustling of keys , someone slipping on a jacket, a faint “who’s riding with jean?” uttered from one of the many intoxicated partygoers; as for who , he does not know.

all reiner is aware of is the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, body warm with the coat of whiskey, the glow of his solar return pervading the sallows of his face from the previous year’s torment; as if filling a once-deflated balloon with air yet again.

confetti has woven itself into the carpet, solo cups littering the surrounding dining room, a cake still sits on the table, half-eaten. “happy birthday reiner” it read, for a total of ten minutes. only reiner’s name remains due to your insistence that the birthday boy should get to eat his own name, and in pure self-adoring leo fashion, he co-signed.

and there his name sits, beneath its hard plastic shell as his gifts are sprawled around, some big, some small; though reiner had insisted that presents weren’t necessary by any means, you all came together to at least get him a few things to remember the day by. and what a day it had been. he was grateful. and so, so drunk.

his body suddenly takes a dive to the right—he had failed to realize his passive swaying from side to side and lost his balance—his face finds itself directly in your lap, nose mere inches away from knocking over a rather tall bottle of grey goose lingering not too far from your current position. you’re not much better than he is, face flushed and your smile dazed, as you begin to card your fingers through his hair, seemingly unaffected by his sudden landing.

“hey, we’re gonna head out.” armin says, footsteps lightly sticking with every step he takes further into the kitchen. he grimaces at the noise, but says nothing, in favor of checking on the pair of you. yet before he can utter the words “are you guys alright?” a hefty grip on armin’s wrist from the stockier blond sends armin to his knees, discombobulating the shorter man momentarily before he was met with a fierce hug.

“thank you..for coming.” reiner had been struggling to properly pronounce his syllables since the fourth round of tequila shots with eren, but those four words were the most coherent he’d been all night. the sentiment wasn’t lost on armin, and he returned the embrace, even if his lungs felt the slightest bit compressed the longer they hugged. “n-no problem!” armin pats his back thrice and shifts his gaze to you once reiner pulls away and nestles into your lap yet again. “would you like a ride home? you and sasha live not too far from each other, so it’s on our way.” he offers, so thoughtful as always. you begin to nod your head, thinking of the throbbing sensation that’ll soon swim within your temples, your lack of a change of clothes, along with numerous other things—

“i don’t mind if you stay..” reiner mumbles, a hand swirling patterns into your thigh. “never have, you used to sleep over all the time. i still got your toothbrush, s’ in my bathroom” he’s drunk, there’s no nuance , it sounds so scandalous when he says it like that and yet your heart picks up when he says your toothbrush is still in your space in his bathroom. you contemplate his words, given that it’s two minutes shy of one am (from what you can make out via a blurred glance at the microwave), and it is rather late..

armin surveys the two of you with a knowing glance, choosing to once again say nothing. he’s always been one for reading between the lines, clearly there’s some unspoken tension between you and the birthday boy, a history even. “n-not like that.” you laugh, pulse quickening as you try to divert armin’s attention from reiner’s hand attempting to work its way up your thigh, minuscule movements of his hand feeling like leaps and bounds over your already heated skin. “there was a time where i was going through some shit, so reiner let me hang here for a little while. it’s not nearly as..uh..intimate as it sounds.” your voice is low, your head leaned towards armin.

“i don’t mind sleeping here though. it’s one in the morning, and you’ve already gotta take sasha and eren’s drunk ass home. i’ll be good here.” a smile, and a gentle hand on armin’s shoulder is enough for him to leave you with reiner for the night.

“text me if you need anything, okay?”

mikasa‘s jacket and eren’s vomit crusted dress shirt clink amongst armin’s keys as he makes his way to the door (the shirt is tied in a plastic bag, he’s not a psycho).

‘maybe the mad dog jello shots were a bit much’, you think, saying your goodbyes to everyone as they stumble down the remainder of the driveway, jean corralling each person into their designated cars, and silently regretting his decision to double up with armin tonight to drive. it doesn’t help that he’s shoeless, considering eren yacked all over those too. it’s not funny, but it is, and you laugh as the door clicks behind you.

parties have a very poignant atmosphere.

they fill the space and somehow suck the air out of it once it’s over. but what you feel right now has nothing to do with the party and everything to do with the tension between you and reiner. who seems to have disappeared from his spot on the kitchen floor and made his way to the shower, leaving behind a trail of clothes in his wake. his loft is spacious, open floor plans met with a man’s taste in furniture (which equates to the bare minimum, sadly) and sumptuous windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. it’s one way glass, can’t see in but you can see out, rather convenient considering reiner had a very bad habit of never wanting to wear clothes around the house. case and point, the calvin klein boxers strewn across his floor. ‘jesus, even when he’s drunk he’s a slob.’ you think, grimacing as you reach for them in an attempt to chuck them into the nearby hamper—

“sorry for the mess.” he mutters, stepping out of shower as a plume of steam clings to the nearby mirror. towel hanging from his waist, hair slick with water. the scent of his soap and deodorant envelop you as he walks past, rifling through his dresser in an attempt to find clothes for the both of you. from the quick glance at his figure you’d allowed yourself, you quickly deduce that reiner finally made good on that crossfit membership he’d been blabbing about for the last three months. he was always handsome, always with a body that looked like it was carved from stone but the torso you’re looking at (and shouldn’t be) has gotten a major upgrade. ‘this is a bad idea’ you think to yourself, wondering how you allowed a spur of the moment decision lead you back into a bedroom you swore you’d never step foot in again.

you weren’t lying to armin when you said that the conditions of you staying with reiner weren’t romantic, that part was true; but the last time you were in this house, this room, things weren’t exactly…platonic.

“i found these, pretty sure you forgot em when you were leaving.”

a grey t-shirt and a pair of panties plop onto the bed where you sit, and you cringe upon the realization that you’d even left anything here to begin with. he offers you a pair of his sweatpants to help preserve your dignity, but you decline, knowing there’s no way they’d fit you.

“you remember where the towels are, yeah?”

you nod. third door to the left, past the coffee maker.

“cool. use whatever’s in there, i don’t care. i’ll be in the living room, so if you need somethin’ just yell.”

you give him a thumbs up as you disappear into the bathroom, the humidity mimicking the haziness of your mind as it begins to wander, your hands slippery with soap as you run the cloth over the curve of your hip, the same way he did that night.

“fuckkkk.” the sight before you is delicious, blonde burrowing it’s way between your thighs as reiner tongues your clit; a man starved. lust has taken over the bedroom, coiling around the two of you and winding so tight you feel as though you might burst, but if this is what it feels like to be consumed, you don’t mind one bit. he’s rutting against the bed desperately, your moans sending him into a frenzy; his mouth pools with your essence and he can barely contain himself. he adds his ring and middle finger to the equation, sensing you need more, just the slightest bit extra to bring you to paradise and you keen with pleasure.

“don’t stop..m’ gonna cum..” you’re shaking now, thighs shuddering around his ears and your pulse begins to throb so hard you can feel it in your temples, each wave of dopamine crashing over you, into you; you’ve never gotten head like that before. trust, you’d remember if you had. his tongue wanders in the mess you’ve made between your legs, and his face is no exception. your slick glistens in the cropped cut of his facial hair, and before you can utter a word of embarrassment, his tongue is giving you a taste of what he’d worked so hard to pull from you. the kiss is filthy, lips slotted together with strings of saliva; they break like bubbles when you pull away for air.

“shit!” lost in reverie, you’d failed to notice the increasing temperature of the shower water until it scalds your skin, shocking you back to the present moment. soft linen wraps around your body, soothing the harsh burn, legs still shining with droplets as you towel off, noting that you smell just like reiner does; but you’d rather not ride that train of thought. you make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, brow raising as you realize his slice of cake is missing.

“the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” floats from the living room.

“the hell happened to your cake?” you peer around the corner, and find the answer to your question stuffing his face. “nevermind.” you laugh, taking a seat on the couch, a cushion separating the both of you. he gestures with his left hand, offering a fork full; you take it, given that you’re both still not sober and this slice of sponge cake is the closest thing you’ve had to food in the last few hours. buttercream icing coats the roof of your mouth and you moan in sheer joy.

“oh my god.”

“right? shits’ so good” reiner mumbles, already on his last bite. his eyes are closed in bliss and you can’t help but feel jealous, you ache to be the cause of his expression rather than some slice of confectionery. little do you know, when your head turns, his eyes rake up the expanse of your bare thighs, resolve crumbling little by little. you’re beautiful, beyond it. he fights the urge to caress you and settles for a loaded question:

“why’d you say that to armin?”

“say what?” you respond. you’re avoiding his gaze intentionally, you know exactly what he’s asking about, this just isn’t the time.

“that it ‘wasn’t like that’ when i said you could stay the night.” the fork clatters against the cardboard of the cake box, filling the silence for a second, but it does nothing to ease the awkwardness of this interaction. “because it’s the truth? i didn’t start staying here so we could be fuck buddies—“

“—but that’s what happened, right?”

“reiner. don’t start this again.” you warn, tone firm. it’s not that you don’t want to talk about this, it’s been weighing on your heart since the night you left, but what could you say? you were running from the problems in your relationship and escaped into the arms of someone you called a friend, and very quickly that became much more than a friendship. the man your boyfriend couldn’t stand became your shoulder to cry on, and dick to ride. and in the end, everyone got hurt. you included.

“how’s galliard?” his voice seems harmless, but you sense the smugness that lies beneath.

“really? now?”

“it’s just a question.”

a pause.

“i haven’t seen him since..you know. we’ve spoken though. he seems to be doing alright, i think.” you answer. you briefly remember a photo dump he posted coming across your feed, he was in the netherlands with his brother last you heard, but that’s as much as you know. you’ve kept your distance from your ex since the fallout of your breakup, and for good reason. considering the last time you’d spoken, he’d told you that he “hopes it was worth it” and that you were dead to him.

you couldn’t be mad. if the roles were reversed, you’d have probably said the same.

the relationship (despite its relatively short run of five months) was volatile, and galliard has never had a desire to communicate with people in a way that isn’t riddled with hostility and aggression. it was the source of many arguments, and “i’m sorry” voicemails. one night you got sick of it, the pettiness, tit for tat, the pointed indirect insults in front of friends, the building of resentment every day you stayed together; so you left, needing to clear some space in your already heavy heart. a bag hurriedly packed, you’d found yourself at the door of a friend who you knew would have questions, but would never judge.

but friends don’t do the things you have done with one another.

“why did you invite me tonight?” since we’re asking loaded questions.

the text came as a surprise, a simple invitation and an address linked in a text message: ‘hey. my friends are throwing me a birthday party tonight. my house. i was wondering if you wanted to come. it’s cool if not, here’s my address tho in case you forgot it’

“i wanted to see you.”

“bullshit.” you scoff.

“why would i lie? you know how i feel about you.”

a pause.

“prove it.” the reposado speaks for you now, and you’re feeling dangerously curious to see just how far reiner will go. intoxication makes for a great truth serum, you’ve learned. he balks at your challenge, pupils shattering and reforming all at once as he attempts to snap himself out of whatever daydream he’s conjured. it has to be, there’s no way you’re sat so prettily on his couch making “fuck me” eyes, with a sliver of your panties visible beneath that thin fucking shirt. it’s a dream. has to be.

a chuckle. “you’re fuckin with me, right?” reiner’s fidgeting slightly, trying not to draw your attention to his increasing arousal.

“not even a little bit.” you’re so close he can feel your breath ghosting along his lips, a hair away from unleashing the pent up sexual tension between the both of you, but you don’t move any further. “i feel kinda bad..you invited me to your party, and i didn’t even get you a gift.” you pout.

“you can make it up to me.”

he’s finally gotten the courage to make the first move, securing both hands around your waist and tugging you into his lap. your clit pulses almost rhythmically when your lips meet, and the noises he’s making aren’t helping. “take these off.” he groans, plucking the waistband of your panties. you oblige his request, but the cool air still makes you shiver when your back hits the couch, legs spread. his eyes rake up your body, once, twice, before his middle and ring fingers take their place spreading your lips; they trace circles around your clit once they’ve spread enough of your juices around to slicken things up, but he’s just getting started. all the little gasps and cracks in your voice drive him insane, and while reiner loves to tease, he couldn’t wait any longer to taste you. locking himself between your thighs, his arms securing your legs around his head, he makes sure to hold on to your hips when he begins to suck on your clit. there’s no running for you, not when you’ve been dangling this pussy in front of him all evening. his tongue is fluid, slippery when it strokes your sensitive nub from every direction, he’s everywhere and somehow you still want more. “feels so good..don’t stop—” you beg, hips bucking into his face. he loves seeing you so fucked out, so desperate to cum all over his tongue, it only encourages him more as his fingers curl against that spot that makes your vision dip, and you gush all over his lips and jaw. your face burns with arousal and mild embarrassment, but he couldn’t be more pleased.

“can’t believe you let me eat this pussy ..and you made me watch you cum all over my face…such a slut.” he mumbles, his tongue still running laps around your clit. still throbbing, still sensitive. your body shivers and shakes with the continuous sensation, but reiner couldn’t care less. he licks and sucks with reckless abandon for a minute or two longer, before finally detaching himself from you, and giving your body reprieve. you struggle to catch your breath, your attention now drawn to the tented fabric below reiner’s torso. knowing it’s a shitty thing to think of in the current moment, you can’t help but lament at just how much thicker he is than your ex.

then again, reiner braun has never been, especially physically, average.

you splay your hands across his length as he pulls you in, neurons firing when you taste yourself on his tongue. he groans into your mouth, his eyes fluttering when you’re stroking and twisting your hand like that—

a brief disconnection of your lips forces his eyes open, but it’s worth it when he gets to sear the mental image of you spitting into his dick into his eyelids for eternity. your hand strokes the hottest noises out of him, the schlick-schlick of your motions only getting faster when filth begins to pour from his lips.

“mhm. just like that—fuck, i missed my nasty girl.”

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before. and that’s saying a lot, genuinely. your tongue winds around his tip, settling against the underside of his shaft as you descend; the remainder of his dick is in your right hand as you work him over. your efforts matter little though, as reiner has other plans for your tight, tight throat. his hand settles at the base of your neck, winding his fingers at the root of your hair, and grips. rocking you backwards and forwards, he bullies his cock into your throat, and he nearly cums when he watches your eyes well up with tears; at first you panic at the activation of your gag reflex, but your throat slowly relaxes once you realize resistance is futile.

“take it…ah, shit—just like that mama, feels so fuckin good..such a good girl when im fuckin your face” he praises through gritted teeth, pumping himself with your throat a few more times before stopping, and changing your position so that the two of you were in missionary. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you soaked whenever he’d handle you so roughly, the way your eyes would glaze over and your body would become completely pliant for him and him only. for him to be such a typically serious and quiet man, reiner was so mean, so cocky when he fucked; even teasing you for the way you whine when he puts the tip in: “what’s the matter? can’t take the real thing? i know it’s—”

he retreats, and slams back in, taking a ruthless pace. “a lot bigger than those little boys you whore around with.” he finishes with a whisper, folding your knees into your tits as he throws your legs over his shoulders. “m’ n-not a whore..” you whine, voice cracking.

“no? you haven’t seen me in three whole months, you come over for a few hours and the first thing you let me do was stretch out this tight little cunt.” he taunts, a thumb circling your clit. “y-yeah..m-missed you..missed this dick—“ you babble, eyes rolling.

“i know baby, i know, let me in, let daddy make you feel good.”

“j-just like that, fuck fuck fuck” you feel like you’re on the verge of collapse, his cock is pummeling it’s way into your stomach, his sweat is glistening in the glow of his lights and it’s taking everything in you not to beg this man to cum in you here and now. “only whores know how to take dick and still be able to beg for more.” he taunts, his little hair trick from before making an encore appearance as he forces you to watch yourself be debauched, a thick white ring forming at the base of his length like a badge of honor. he was fucking into you so fast and so deep it made you dizzy, but you were too far gone. “love when you fuck me like this’, love when you slut me out” you mumble, teetering on the edge of cumming, you’re so close you can taste it—

“fuck, you’re so fuckin’ nasty, such a good girl for me, always lettin’ me get my way.” reiner moans, a hand wrapped around your throat and a good squeeze has your vision exploding, you melt and your body goes limp, senses still firing off as he coats your insides with sticky white seed.

the aftercare is, to be real, half assed. you’re both exhausted, but reiner still makes sure you’re wiped down with a hot towel, and carries you to bed upon your insistence that you’d, quote, “love to enjoy the sleep part of being fucked to sleep”. you doze off quickly, and reiner follows suit shortly after; the both of you failing to hear reiner’s phone emit a soft ding!

eren 2:23am

you owe me that 20 dollars

your apple watch is still synced to my phone from leg day man…not judging tho. get in there soldier 🫡

[waitmyturtles]

I haven't written an Old GMMTV Challenge update in SOOOOOO long, and I was just about to write a short screed compelling folks to think about taking up The Miracle of Teddy Bear, which I'm watching now for the project. I've also made some changes to the list, which I'll report below:

1) I paused Miracle for a couple of weeks to catch up on 2022's Triage, the second in a trilogy of shows by the Y novel writer, Sammon (most recently known for 4 Minutes, and better known for premiering with 2019's Manner of Death). I wanted to catch up on Triage before Spare Me Your Mercy airs, the third show in the MoD/Triage series trilogy. (Sammon has been posting on Twitter recently in anticipation for SMYM, thus my urgency in watching Triage.)

I wasn't intending on including Triage on the OGMMTVC syllabus, but I am, not even indulgently, but because I think if someone's going to situate themselves as a student of Thai BL, then this show should be watched as simply a TOTALLY REMARKABLE queer drama that plays not just with some BL tropes, but with a ton of other television tropes as well (as so wonderfully listed by @dragonsareawesome123!) TRIAGE IS SO FUCKING, FUCKING, FUCKING AWESOME, and I screamed in my liveblogs about it, so fuck yeah, I'm gonna review it soon (after I finish and review Miracle for the sake of chronology).

2) After I get reviews of Miracle and Triage out, I'll finally review GAP, which I watched this summer, and I'm glad I've given myself a lot of breathing room to think about GAP and its longterm impact, because I was gently unhappy with the show as it ended and how its script worked. I know some Idol Factory shows, like The Sign, are known for being bloooated, and I don't think GAP was bloated per se, but it was messy enough for me to think about it more critically than I expected in regards to celebrating Thailand's first GL. (It seems like The Loyal Pin is faring better by way of being a better script? But I haven't conversed with anyone about this yet.)

In any case, this breathing room, along with watching more shows from 2022, allows me to take the full step back I need to to celebrate GAP in its historical glory, notwithstanding the weak script, so that I'll do after I write up on Miracle and Triage.

(By the way. 2022 was a HELL OF A YEAR for Thai BLs. Bad Buddy ends, we got KinnPorsche, Triage, The Miracle of Teddy Bear as Thailand's first queer primetime drama, Secret Crush On You, The Eclipse, Moonlight Chicken is filmed but not aired, My School President premieres. 2023 and 2024 can only weep in jealousy, unfortunately.)

3) Finally, the real reason why I was going to put pen to paper today is that I am not done with The Miracle of Teddy Bear, and it's truly a HEFTY COMMITMENT to watch it, 16 hour-and-a-half-long episodes (meaning, 32 normal episodes) (New Siwaj drools in envy) but part of my thinking, as I start episode 12 tonight, is that I might need to compel my fellow Bad Buddy girlies to give Miracle a try.

If Bad Buddy was remarkable for existing in the no-homophobia-bubble, and using family rivalry and intergenerational trauma as sophisticated stand-ins for homophobia --

Miracle follows in BBS's footsteps as

1) not at all a BL, but a queer drama, Thailand's first major primetime queer drama,

2) a show that absolutely grabs all kinds of homophobia -- internal, external, social, familial homophobia -- by the neck, and reckons and analyzes each kind of homophobia through brilliant writing and character development,

3) a show that STILL, like BBS, grapples with intergenerational trauma, the trauma of adults coming from broken families and committing future harm on their children; as well as reckoning with the impacts of misogyny; as well as reckoning with the impacts of individuals standing up AGAINST social biases, including social homophobia, corporate demands against the environment, interactions with the police, so so much, and

4) a show that STILL commits to realistic development of romantic bonds among multiple couples, using flashbacks intelligently and sensibly, and leveraging romance often to sensibly lighten heavy moments.

I'll let y'all know how I fare as I get to the show's end, but let me just say at this point in time, before I dive into the show's last five episodes, that at least contemplating a watch of Miracle will be utterly satisfying for folks looking for incredible watches as we plod through a few mediocre shows at the present moment. I didn't think it would happen in the course of this syllabus, but I think Miracle is going into my top three of all Thai queer dramas I've ever watched, with Bad Buddy and He's Coming To Me at the top of that list.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hello again everyone i'm putting on my tinfoil jester hat & passing out Hefty grains of salt. its batshit theory time!

in short: i think Julie is gonna get violent & might end up killing someone - or she'll at least try. and i'm pretty sure something terrible is gonna happen to her.

in long: hoo boy. strap in

first off, i'd like to say that i love womens' wrongs And rights! all of this is said with utmost affection & respect for Julie. i love it when characters do terrible things, its interesting and so tasty for the story and their development <3

second disclaimer: most of this is just based off of what we have / know as of now. which is, admittedly, not much! so despite having short arms, i may be reaching very far! i'll get the based-on-knowledge part of my thoughts out of the way before getting into the more abstract I'm Just Making Shit Up At This Point part (educated guessing, yk yk!)

not sure where to start so i'll begin with what starting this line of thinking - flower symbolism. I've gone a little bit into it in a previous post from a while back (where i just made observations about the neighborhood map), but i'll restate the relevant parts. there are two flowers in the neighborhood with greek myths attached, and similar ones at that: the hyacinths outside of the Post Office, and the sunflowers outside of Frank's house.

most people know the hyacinth myth! Apollo, while playing metal frizbee with his (male) mortal lover Hyacinthus, Apollo's thrown discus bounced off of the ground and accidentally hit Hyacinthus in the head, killing him - then Apollo turned the spilled blood into the hyacinth flower. in another - popular - version of the myth, the wind god Zephyrus was jealous and blew the discus off course to kill Hyacinthus. as for sunflowers: Clytie, a nymph, was in love with Apollo and grew jealous of his relationship with a princess, Leucothoe. Clytie informed Leucothoe's father of the relationship, and he buried Leucothoe alive as punishment. Apollo turned his murdered lover into a sunflower. two flowers attached to greek myths about Apollo falling for a mortal, and that mortal gets murdered by a jealous non-mortal.

next, I would like to bring attention to This Concept Artwork from 2021. now i'm not gonna use this as a definitive "oh this exists so it must mean-" but there are always elements of concept work, especially Canon concept work, that sticks or can allude to themes or information that will be revealed later in the story. concepts are concepts for a reason - it means there's a solid idea that's being explored in depth, most times for use (especially that deep into the story crafting).

specifically, right now i'd like to look at the type of flower Julie is holding. pansies. normal ones + the primary fucked up pansy. pansies are symbols of love - both romantic and platonic, but predominantly platonic. it can also symbolize nostalgia, thought, admiration, remembrance, and can even be used as an "i'm sorry" flower. in victorian times, it was often used to represent forbidden/secret love.

stick with me, i'm getting to the point i promise

now, another thing is how much of Julie's character (meta-wise & in regards to the WH show as a production) is centered around love. her house is the "cutest" or most feminine one in the neighborhood, and it's downright infested with hearts, from the windows to the bushes to the chimney. she exists as Frank's foil, and it's almost definitive that she was meant to be Frank's love interest (there's just. so much evidence that there's no way that's not it). and just look at her! she looks like a love interest! if WH was a real show that i sat down to watch, i'd see her and immediately go "oh, ok, that's her base role"

this contradicts with what we know of her character - Julie seems big on platonic love, loving her friends, but other than that? she very much steps around what her house/character design is trying to say. she's hopscotching right over what the production wants from her. the only thing she kinda sticks with is the whole flower thing

but. but but but. i wonder! after the update, I'm pretty confident that the neighbors are influenced by the "script" and the workshop, even if they're not aware of it. see: the difference in how they act in the "recovered media" (where they behave more like they're characters playing out a bit, their dialogue has no natural lulls and it just sounds like a (really good) script) vs the 14 audios & the phone calls (natural dialogue, they seem more layered & like actual people instead of just characters, there's no set shenanigan - they're just doing their own things). and we can assume that the latter audios are from the neighbors off-script off-the-air.

despite this, they still somewhat try to fill their roles. the question is: how much of that is authentic, and how much is them still feeling that pressure to perform? just like how We as people feel pressure and expectation from societal rules/norms, even if we're not conscious of it. like, say... kids growing up thinking being queer is wrong, even if they've never been directly exposed to / made aware of homophobia/transphobia. We fill in the absence of being told "this is right" with "it must be wrong", and We act accordingly

so apply that to sapient puppets who were (again, most likely) made with set relationships, dynamics, and character details in mind. they're meant to be This Way, even if they want to be That Way, and that internal "programming" has to conflict, at least a little. like how I've seen Clown mention that homophobia will/may be a theme, and the only way i can see that happening among puppets who have never been directly exposed to it is if the above happens: they feel pressure from something they're unaware of. expectation from a "higher" plane of existence. as above, so below.

OKAY NOW WE'RE GETTING TO IT I PROMISE! blend this all together into Frank & Eddie catching feelings. they weren't meant to fall in love. they're not supposed to be together. it's - from the perspective of Playfellow & society (in the time period WH was active/created) - wrong.

Julie is supposed to be with Frank. Frank is supposed to be with Julie. in a way, they are together - they're best friends. they're foils. they were created to compliment each other and click. in the media audios, they're almost always together. if one of them is in a scene, so is the other.

so what happens if Frank starts to pull away? if he starts to spend more time with Eddie - what if Julie feels like she's being pushed out? what if she asks Frank to come play, only to be told he already has plans with Eddie, and if Julie tries to join in, what if Frank tells her no?

if it were me in this situation, I think I'd start to panic a little. everything has always been the same - it's always been Frank and Julie. that's how it's supposed to be. Frank and Eddie, well that's just - that's just wrong! and if, at this hypothetical point in the story, things are tangibly starting to degrade/go wrong, Julie might cling even harder, panic even more.

you see where I'm going with this? what i meant with the flower symbolism and what it could point to?

their world is falling apart, and Julie's one constant - Frank, her best friend, her grumpy rock - is pulling away. for Eddie. the mailman. and so what if the jealous "lover" takes action? Julie can make things go back to normal. she needs Frank, and in her mind she's losing him, but she can't lose him. she can't. and maybe that little whisper of expectation that she can't hear but feels nonetheless, fuels this fire. it makes her feel justified, makes her feel the need to act and "correct" this. maybe if she gets rid of the distraction, Frank's love and attention will be hers once more.

i mean, people do insane things when they're under that much pressure. from current probably-horrible events, a loss of control in their own life, their closest person seemingly distancing themselves, subconscious pressure from societal expectation. especially when it comes to love - platonic or romantic. w/ Julie, i'm pretty sure it's platonic in regards to Frank. though she is bi, so you never know! could be both!

and maybe it won't be about Frank & Eddie, if any of this turns out to even a little right. maybe there's a factor I'm not considering or haven't seen yet. but i really do think that there are things pointing to it.

like yeah, the Concept Art linked above. the caption saying "liar", the specific species of flower, Julie holding it over her mouth as if keeping a secret, the hammer. not sure if the person standing over her is her primary puppeteer, an abstract, or something else (it seems cracked?) but that's not what this theory is about!

then there's the flower patch - both behind her in the concept art, and the one behind her house on the map. it's striking me now that the two look very similar. they have mostly the same flowers, even. blue/yellow/white/orange "daisies", some daffodils, what i think are roses (it's hard to tell specifics on the map). an odd choice to make them so similar (unless it's coincidence!).

when I first saw the patch, my immediate thought was "holy shit is that a body dump?!" bc it's oddly green compared to the rest of the map, it's placed at a noticeable distance behind Julie's house - as if it's supposed to be "hidden", and it's the lushest spot in the neighborhood. now, to provide a counterargument to my own claim: it could be very green because that's how things are shaded, it looks like it's at a distance from the house bc the map is 2D, and its the lushest spot bc Julie's all about flowers - also, i doubt flowers would spontaneously grow since we can assume none of them are real. it's a puppet world of props. but who knows.

(and okay this might or might not be relevant but we can assume Julie is the one who made the chalk drawings on the path, right? i think there's a spiral in front of her house. just making a note of it.)

and there's just how much "pressure" seems to be on Julie compared to the others. she doesn't match her house. she doesn't fit her "role" the way she's meant to. AND OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT - by the swingset, there's now a bowling ball and what looks like red scissors. idk about you guys but i associate scissors with Eddie. he's all about crafts, after all! now i'm really reaching but hey? murder weapon? Julie does seem fond of bowling balls... that's a perfect bludgeoning weapon to have on hand (in abundance!)

in conclusion, i just think Julie has major potential to do some deliciously fucked up stuff. in fact, i hope she does! it could be handled/done in an absolutely fascinating way, and could have intriguing consequences.

who knows, maybe i'm right about her trying to get rid of Eddie (not out of malice or anything, just fear & pressure), and there'll be a whole thing where he keeps on coming back, completely unaware that she tried to off him, bc he's a puppet and it's probably really tough to kill something that wasn't really alive in the first place. i mean, in This Observation post i made about some new map secrets, there's a strange window shine on the Post Office door that could be spelling out either "nexus" or "new us". that plus the apparent extra hands/faces behind the door... Eddie is quite accident prone. who's to say he's not used to being replaced by himself? it's not like he'd remember. or is that the reason his memory is bad? holy shit wait - no wait this is a tangent. sorry. this post is about Julie lmao maybe i'll make a different post for this Eddie Thought i just had bc ough. ough...

and also, before anyone tries to come at me - because there's always people who twist words to Start Shit or misinterpret/miss the point - i'm not saying that Julie is like... homophobic. or hates Eddie. or is a "jealous crazy-" just. yk? and if you think that, maybe reread the post. or take a reading comprehension class &lt;3

AS FOR THE SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAPPENING TO JULIE. this is based on Two things and also Vibes. this section will be mercifully short compared to the rest of this clusterfuck of a post

so in the Livestream Trivia doc compiled by @/theneighborhood watch, yes i'm referencing this again sorry, there's this tidbit:

that, plus This Artwork, which features Julie (they're her shoes!) standing at the edge of an apparent chasm (the edge of the set, i assume) paints an interesting hypothetical picture. maybe she wanders a little too far and falls off the edge of her world. maybe she discovers something and Wally has to do something he doesn't want to do, but "needs" to. hey, who knows. maybe she is gonna hurt / try to hurt someone, and in an attempt to save them / stop her, Wally pushes her - either accidentally or on purpose, either way the end result would be the same. now I'm just pulling things out of my ass so lets move on lmao

then there's the Unknown Record in the website's media section. i actually recorded the audio and sped it up - i'll post that video later - and it seems to be an excerpt from Alice in Wonderland. the only part of it i've been able to clearly pick out is "Alice found herself falling down.... down... down..." followed by, presumably Alice speaking - who's high pitched voice reminds me of Julie's. so that's another point in the Julie Goes Bye-Bye Via Rapid Descent theory. or just goes temporarily missing! it could be that the only relevant part of the above trivia tidbit is the "falling down a cavern", and not the "never seen again" part. but it could. be. both.

though! though. Clown has stated that if all the neighbors were to take on roles in Alice in Wonderland, Wally is the one who would be Alice. which follows his direct connection to the spiral/eye pit, and the phrase "down the rabbit hole". so it could be either or. it could be both! it could be neither! this is all speculation, which brings us to....

the end! we made it! i hope you're still carrying your Hefty grains of salt! soon you'll be able to fill a large chicken-shaped shaker with it all!

[alaskan-wallflower]

darry headcanons

h...please.....

Of course!!

tw for suicide mention at the very end)

He’s a really good woodworker. He used to make tiny wooden figures for his brothers and parents

He was kinda the golden child for a bit-not exactly in a bad way, but he was smart and athletic and he would be the one his parents would brag about

He almost lost it when he heard from Soda that a teacher had been comparing Soda to him. He was livid.

His second job is a daycare worker and a lot of people judge him for it because he’s a man (he has a soft spot for kids

Sometimes when Soda and Pony are arguing he’ll just clunk their heads together

He’s lactose intolerant (Darry can’t have dairy 😞)

He didn’t lay a hand on Pony for a good few months after the book and kinda flinched whenever Pony went to hug him because he was terrified of hurting him

He actively makes an effort to listen more to Pony after the book

The reason Darry and Paul fell off was because after their parents died Paul thought it would be funny to prank Darry by waiting at the train tracks with flashlights with a few other people and they held flashlights up to look like train lights (Pont and Soda were with him) and Darry nearly cracked into a ditch.

Hes a dog person and lowkey kinda wants a german shepherd or something

The reason he started going to the gym was because he kinda had a rebellious teenage phase and he realized he was just kinda angry and he wanted to work it out

Darry was actually really popular in school and he keeps his Bou of the Year award (and was honestly probably voted prom king too)

He’s REALLY good at singing country songs (Brent Comer I see you!

When he read Pony’s recollection of him he nearly had a breakdown because he realized how stoic and hard he seemed

He hates being called Darrel because that was his father and hearing it reminds him of his father and it upsets him to no end

He takes the longest showers, like half the time he just stands there and thinks

When he first got into working out he had extreme body dysmorphia and constantly tracked what he ate. Pony and Soda had to help him out of it after their parents died

He has a kinda hefty accent especially when he’s upset

He often thinks Pony and Soda would be better without him and this led to very…bad thoughts.

The only way to really break him is by giving him a big hug and he’ll just break down.

Hell subconsciously clutch his brothers’ hands when he feels like they’re in danger because he’s scared he’s gonna lose them

He often skipped meals in favor of Pony and Soda and only stopped when he passed out on the roof he was working on and broke his arm

His dad taught him to play guitar and he could play it really well actually. He stopped when their parents died because it hurt too much.

He cries himself to sleep a lot tbh-his brothers only found out because they were cuddle piling him and he just started crying because he thought they were asleep. They don’t let him be alone at night after that.

Pony was valedictorian and he was so incredibly happy for him and cried at his speech because he mentioned how much he needed to thank Darry for his success (Pony also got a buttload of scholarships and Darry was beyond the moon)

Hes really good at fishing because he went with his dad a lot

He kills them with his bare hands though. He literally punches its skull in.

He had a high school sweetheart actually but they broke up when his parents died (it was a clean one though)

He sleeps on his back and then wonders why it hurts so bad

He loves getting his back rubbed honestly. Someone should take him to a chiropractor

He cracks his knuckles a lot

His eyes are fucking scary like catch him in the sunlight and it’s like when a cat is in the dark and gets a flashlight in their eyes

He started drinking beer after his parents died. Then he kinda turned to harder stuff. He was quick to shut it down honestly.

He gets hangry. Like he will snap at just about anyone and anything

Hes tried to off himself once. Long and Soda caught him evacsue he was drunk off his ass and missed and they were absolutely horrified

Thanks for the ask!! Hope you like the angsty ones!

[zelphin124]

Winter x Y/N short story

As promised... Here it is.

Spoilers for SeasonTale!

Happy birthday my boy! (Dec 5th) I'm so proud to be your creator!

TW: Kidnapping, choking, threats, minor gore

I should probably stare this is Fanon.

Once again, images are used for visual purposes only and I do not claim them.

(I know I said I wouldn't use them again... but they do help a lot, and I'm looking into the whole AI art thing right now, please don't send asks about it.)

Here ya go, ya simps!

~o0o~

"They won't find us here!"

You were thrown through a portal, and your face landed in a pile of snow. You tumbled like a snowball until you just stopped. The cold wind nipped at your wounds, but you couldn't complain or cry.

They would kill you if you did.

Your kidnappers tumbled through the portal after you. Some of them started to shiver as the storm greeted them with open arms. They anxiously glanced around as the portal closed behind him.

The cliffs beside you were evident, and the wind echoed across their caverns. Snow and ice covered everything you could see. The horizon was hidden by the fog, and the only thing you could see were the mass peaks stretching toward the stars. The darkest one was mostly hidden by the overhead clouds.

Or was it even a rock?

"Let's go!" You didn't have time to react as a hand gripped tightly around your neck, dragging you through the snow. The grip dug into your veins and made you cough. Snow got under your clothes, freezing your bare skin as you inhaled the foul stench of your predator.

"Stop coughing if you know what's good for you!" He roared, choking you harder.

The others didn't seem to care about what he was doing to you. They trudged in the snow, grumbling as they made their way to a cave.

A large shadow passed over you. You couldn't help but look up in curiosity. It was too fast to be a cloud.

"Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He hissed, barring his teeth. "I don't want to have to kill you before I sell you for a hefty price!"

"I'm telling you guys, they aren't gonna sell!" Another one of the kidnappers snapped. "They don't have the right hair that boss likes!"

"Relax, they can be a trade in," the other shrugged. "Their organs are all the same."

You couldn't feel your cheeks or your toes at this point. If you knew you would end up in some faraway land that would freeze your fingers off, you would have packed better. But no one prepares for these things to happen.

Being tossed against the rock, one of the kidnappers pulled out a knife and put it to your throat. "Now, hold still, or this is going to be more painful for the both of us-"

As your breath got hitched in your throat and your heart stopped beating, a bright light flashed before your eyes. Heat lapped at your legs, and your kidnapper in front of you disintegrated into ash.

The other two kidnappers snapped their heads in the direction the blast came from, gripping their knives as fear drenched their faces. They murmured under their breaths various curses as they faced the attacker.

His large hand was extended, guiding the gaster blaster to aim at the other kidnappers. He was tall... really tall for his species. His face was decorated in snowflakes, and he wore deep navy clothing with big boots and a furry top. A large snowflake banner hung from his waist.

Behind him was a large gaster dragon. Its bones curled around his head and his wings covered everything else. He snorted a ball of smoke, sharing the same fury that flared in the skeleton's blue eye.

"You're gonna pay for that, popsicle!" One of the kidnappers shouted, lunging for him.

The tall skeleton slid to the side. The kidnapper's eyes widened in shock as a wall of bones appeared in front of him. To accompany it, the skeleton pulled out a large hammer.

WHAM! The hammer collided with the kidnapper's back, sending him flying into the wall of bones, cracking his skull. The snow claimed his life and blood.

The remaining kidnapper backed up, his hands shaking. "I-I can e-explain-"

"Leave," the skeleton's voice boomed, shaking the ice around him. It was deep, soothing, yet rattled anyone's insides when it was used as a threat.

The kidnapper didn't waste any time. Opening a portal to who knows where, he jumped through, abandoning you and his dead comrades.

The skeleton turned his gaze towards you, his eyes still blazing with fury. He walked towards you slowly, his dragon following him.

You backed up against the rock you initially were thrown against. One thing was for sure, you felt your heart racing wildly. Blood trickled down your face as you whimpered in fear; you thought you were next.

But nothing happened.

No bones, no blasts, not even the hammer was swung your way.

The skeleton bent down in front of you. His eyes stopped blazing simultaneously as the storm calmed down. No weapon was in sight, and his gaze was full of worry. He gently brushed the hair out of your face to examine the wound that bled. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly. Although his voice was still deep, it was smoother, softer... It sounded like he cared.

You tried to explain to him that you weren't, that your head hurt, and you didn't know where you were because you were kidnapped. However, the cold made you shake uncontrollably; the pain and the cold kept you from speaking clear sentences. You only got a few words out, but it was enough to get the point across.

The next thing you knew was that you were in his arms. His hands dug under the snow and lifted you up, holding you close. "Don't be afraid... I'm going to help you, dear one."

He didn't say much after that, but his actions spoke louder than his words. He whistled toward the dragon and hoisted you on top of it. Sitting behind you, his hand traveled across your waist to hold you tight while his other hand grabbed the leash. The snow didn't feel so cold when he was behind you. It wasn't freezing when the dragon took off and flew above the clouds,

Although your vision started to blur, you finally could see beyond the initial fog. Below the cliffs was a small village, covered in straw and warm garments as the monsters and humans alike traveled around the streets. In the distance, you could see four other environments. One was filled with cherry blossoms and green trees, and flowers were everywhere around that village. The second area, the furthest away from view, was bright and sandy by a beachside, and the ocean extended for miles. That village welcomed the sun, and many were playing sports on the shore. The third area, to the right, was colorful and smelled like pumpkin spice. The leaves were red, orange, and yellow as the leaves fell to the ground. You quickly realized that each section was the different seasons... in harmony with one another.

"Hang in there," you heard the skeleton's voice above you as he also glanced at the captivating landscape.

The warmth of his body shut your eyes slowly as the beat of the dragon's wings calmed you. You drifted off to sleep, knowing he wasn't going to hurt you. You were safe.

* * *

"You're awake, good."

Your eyes flutter open. You try to move, but you find it difficult with the various blankets wrapped around your body. Part of your head is wrapped tightly with soft bandages.

The skeleton who had saved you earlier was sitting on a chair facing you. Behind him was a fire. To your left was a gate that led to a large training ground, and on your right was a gate to outside, and stairs to the upper levels of wherever you were. You guessed you were in a fortress of some sort, though it seemed to be very festive with the lights decorated all around it.

The couch you laid on was comfortable, and you stopped moving as you slowly sunk into it, despite your back aching.

"I'm... Winter, by the way." The skeleton interrupted your observations. He scratched his bony neck and looked at the ground nervously. "You are in SeasonTale, me and my brother's realm. I'm not supposed to let anyone in or out of here... but I think I can make an expection."

You thank the skeleton, though your voice is barely a whisper. You also whisper your name to him before complimenting the place.

"Thanks, I like it too. This was Season's and Solstice's palace. Now, me and my comrades take care of it."

As you asked who his comrades were, another skeleton walked into the room from the kitchen. He had three bowls of homemade ramen in his hands. "How are they doing?" The skeleton dressed in green with a pink corset asked. He had flowers printed all over his face, and his smile was sweet. He glanced toward you. "Oh! You're awake, thank goodness!"

You accepted the ramen he gave to you. Despite you not liking particular foods, the ramen was delicious, and you couldn't stop yourself from devouring it.

"Thank you, Spring," Winter nodded his head as he ate the ramen himself.

"I'll leave you two be," Spring smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure Summer and Autumn don't disturb you either."

"I thought they were visiting their kingdoms today," Winter commented.

"They are, but they should be back soon," he took a step forward to the cold skeleton and whispered. "Dang," he glanced your way. "You lucked out, can we keep them?"

Before Winter could reply, Spring pat him on the back and spun around. He headed back into the kitchen, murmuring something to himself that you didn't catch.

As you ate the last of the ramen, you noticed that the skeleton constantly stared at you. He barely looked away as he set his own bowl of food aside. Whenever you looked back at him, he would continue to stare before he looked away, a small blush covering his face.

Winter got up and removed the outer layer of his clothing, leaving only a navy shirt upon his shoulders. He walked toward the coat rack and hung his coat before stirring the coals in the fire. He sat back down in the chair and continued to stare at you.

When you asked him why he was staring, the blush on his face increased. "Oh, uhm, just making sure the bandage is on correctly. It seems lopsided," he glanced at the ground and smirked to himself. "It's... difficult not to stare at such a pretty face."

The blood in your veins rushed to your face. Was he being serious? You were just told that you wouldn't be sold because you weren't pretty, yet Winter said otherwise. Could it be different monsters have different tastes in humans?

No, you shook your head. There's no way that was his intention, right? It was probably just a compliment. You thanked him as you hide your face under one of the blankets.

A low chuckle escaped Winter's throat. "That's cute," he commented, fidgeting with his hands. "There's no need to hide, though. You're safe here."

You didn't know how to explain the reason why you were covering your face.

"Was the food good? I hope it was enough," Winter scratched his head again. "We can always make more if you're hungry."

You set the blanket down, insisting that the food was delicious, and you were full.

"Good," he cracked a smile, which you guessed was rare for him. "Make yourself at home, as you are welcomed here."

You sat up to face him. You appreciated his kindness and hospitality and couldn't stop your heart from jumping whenever he spoke to you. He was sweet, despite is cold, aloof appearance. Behind those stoic eyes was a man who wanted to care. Behind those bones was a gentle soul, making sure nothing would happen to you. You would love to stay in the palace.

But... your friends and family are worried that you're gone. You couldn't just leave them wondering what happened to you. Some of them wouldn't rest until they found you. Alas, you realized you might be putting Winter and his comrades in danger if you stayed.

Not that your friends could beat the skeletons in a fight... but some of their connections might be able to.

You explain with a heavy heart why you can't stay. After your kidnapping, your family must be worried sick and you elaborated on why you needed to see them again.

Winter nodded slowly. "I understand. I would be worried too. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get home safely."

The rest of the day was figuring out what AU to send you back to. Spring kept both of you fed and helped with your bandages. Winter focused on overlooking various AUs, asking you if it looked familiar through the portal.

During this time, you were able to meet Winter's other comrades. Autumn, a short, angry gremlin barely greeted you. He was dressed in red and often had a sour look on his face. However, when you responded to his insult with an insult, he smirked at you and nodded his head. "This kid... I like them," he chuckled to himself.

Before you could comment that you were not a kid, you met Winter's brother. Though, you wouldn't be able to tell they were brothers at first glance. This cocky skeleton had yellow suns and stars printed across his face and wore a long yellow jacket that exposed his ribs. He looked like a highlighter. He wore a fancy crown and a wide smirk on his face at all times. After noticing his body language and mannerisms, you could tell Winter and Summer were related.

"Do we have to send the darling back?" Summer cooed, frowning. "They're so pretty, I'd like to keep them~"

Winter snapped his head toward his brother. "Keep your eyes off them, brother. They are not yours."

Summer's eyes widened at Winter's booming voice, before he glanced at you and back at Winter. He smirked wildly. "Ooh, I see what's going on~" He shoved Winter's shoulder. "Popsicle has a crush~"

Winter narrowed his eyes. "Summer-"

"It's obvious," Autumn commented, opening another portal to a random AU for you to check. "Look at his eyes and face!"

"My eyes are snowflakes, thank you."

You shook your head as you came back into the room. Surely the next AU would be your home.... right?

Or was there too many of them?

"Spring, help me out," Winter begged.

Spring shrugged, slurping a noodle. "I have to agree with Summer, Winter. You wouldn't have let anyone else stay here...."

Your face turned red. Did the handsome blue skeleton really like you? Or were his comrades just teasing him? You were too flustered to ask, though you weren't sure if you really wanted to know.

Summer spun around in a showmanship way. "Whatever you say, big guy, I'm heading to bed."

Before Winter could comment back, Autumn trudged after him, glaring playfully at you.

Spring opened another portal as he whispered something into Winter's ears before taking off. He glided down the stairs majestically, bowing and smiling at you before he disappeared.

You looked through the portal Spring made and recognized your home. Your heart sank as you murmured this was the one.

Winter's shoulders droop. "Very well, you may go whenever you're ready," he sighed, his snowflake eyes rotating. He glanced away.

You ask him what's wrong, not wanting to leave on the wrong foot.

His mouth flattened before he took a step closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as the other cupped your cheek. "When... When can I see you again?"

You stuttered over your words as he pulled you into a tight hug. His large arms covered most of your body, and you were buried in his clothes. His head rested on top of yours. He was so warm... and comfy. You felt his soul thumping against your face.

"Thank you... for gracing me with your presence..." He gently said, letting you go. "I wish you the best endeavor wherever you go... You always have a friend here in SeasonTale."

Everything in you wanted to squeal in delight. You wanted to hug him again, you wanted to stay... but the winds of your home were calling you. You heart throbbed and ached at the thought of leaving the person who saved your life. How would you contact him? Would you ever see him again? You couldn't find the words as tears trailed down, your eyes.

Winter smiled softly as the portal surrounded you, transporting you back to your homeland. You remember Spring telling you that Winter never cracked a smile, that nothing really made him happy enough to do so. However, there he was, smiling at you as he raised his hand to say goodbye. The last thing you heard was his sweet, soothing voice.

"Be safe, little snowflake."

[foolishfoolsgold]

Out Here Chasin’ Rhapsody

AGJDHWIDMJJJJJJJJ ITS DONE! This is gonna be the cover for my personal project fic, called Cells at Work: Rhapsody Chasers!! I would’ve put the title in here but copyright scary. But I had SO MUCH FUN drawing this, this is genuinely the first time I’ve taken backgrounds seriously and I wanna do MORE!! The characters featured here are Verdant (green thing, lactobacillus) and Joe (the other Thing, T cell) and a bunch of background Things. HEFTY ID under the cut as well as a version without the characters.

Time taken: 15 hours, 34 minutes

Program: IbisPaint X

Brushes: primarily Japanese Calligraphy (blurring), airbrushes, gauze, and pen (fade).

Layers: 49

Who tf are these clowns??? MOVEEEE I’m trying to look at the cityyyyy

There we go

[START ID: Image above the cut is a fully colored, rendered and shaded scene of a city/downtown area at night. In the foreground are two characters, one is lizard like with green scales, fins on her head and elbows, webbed talons, teal eyes with multiple pupils, and is wearing a yellow tee shirt and khaki shorts. She’s smiling and looking back at another character, who’s wearing a black work uniform with a cap that says “KILL” on it in bold white letters. She has long ears without holes and brown stripes all over her light peach skin. Her eyes are closed and she’s smiling with her mouth open, as if she’s telling a funny story. She doesn’t appear to have bones, and a skinny brown tail can be seen behind her. She’s walking beside a tan wall around a corner, which has a blue rain gutter, a vent, and a flyer on it, as well as an arrow that was shot into the wall higher up. Farther behind the characters is a lit-up cityscape, including a store called “Lake Mucosa Coffee Co,” inside which both of its floors can clearly be seen, full of more of these boneless creatures resting, ordering food and working on their laptops underneath “trendy” light fixtures. On the outer walls of the second level, light features representing trippy-looking (real) cells are fixed. Outside the store is a chalkboard, a poster for pink boba tea, and a map, which two red blood cell creatures are looking at, showing a diagram of the human circulatory system and a yellow “you are here” star by its nasal region. Two red cars are on the road between the characters and the stores, one is parallel-parked and the other is a driving blur. Two street lamps are along that sidewalk, with a third implied by the light ahead of the characters. The second image shows the same scene, except the characters are crudely drawn and being shoved out of the way by an arm coming from offscreen. The third is the same image with no main characters as all. In all three, a watermark that reads “FeS2, FOOLISHFOOLSGOLD” is fixed in the top right corner. End ID.]

[ackermanbitch]

Teenage Dirtbag (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) Part 6.5?

a/n: so this is honestly just filler (which is why it's so SHORT) before the part of the fic that takes place during the beginning of homecoming. i dont see the point in writing for the rest of civil war when realistically this is as far as reader would be involved. also not using (y/n) bc i dont like it anymore :D

warnings: arguing?? but it's kind of funny, reader being very much tony's daughter and repressing very real and important emotions

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5

word count: 730 (augh its so short im sorry, next chapter will be the normal length dw )

"Ross wants you in juvie, and honestly, I can't totally blame him! You were assisting war criminals. War. Criminals."

The teen groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to lean as far away from the boy sitting next to her, wondering why the hell he chose to sit right there when there was an entire private plane for him to roam. "Why didn't you have this conversation with me before I left?" She whispered angrily, adjusting the phone in her hand to speak directly into the microphone.

Regardless of where Peter sat, he would've heard Tony's yapping through the phone in response to being interrupted during a lecture.

"Oh I'm sorry my scolding doesn't line up with your schedule young lady, but this is the only time I could fit in to talk to you, what between all the meetings I'm having in an attempt to keep you out of jail!"

"Can't you, I don't know- tell them I happened to be going for a-... a nice stroll? Walked into the crossfire by mis-" She stumbled over her words, eyes darting to Peter who snorted at her idea before she even finished. He quickly cleared his throat, head turning away so quickly she thought he might've pulled something.

Tony brought his palm up to his forehead, some measly attempt to soothe his growing migraine, "This is not a joke, we're talking about you potentially doing prison time-"

"I've hardly done anything deserving a real charge Dad, they just think I'm going to do something and I obviously won't, seeing as my team of 'war criminals' are in fucking Alcatraz-"

"One, you need to watch your damn language and two, you think I don't know that? Of course I think these allegations are a load of bullshit, it doesn't make it any easier to shut them down." Tony sighed, checking the time on his phone before bringing it back to his ear. "Listen, I have to go, call me when you land and don't let Happy fall asleep. Can't have you two teenagers unsupervised on my private plane."

She glanced at Happy's snoring figure on the other side of the jet, "Yeah, sure, he's wide awake. Love you, bye." She deadpanned, hanging up before Tony could finish reciprocating the sentiment.

She may have forced a mask of indifference, even carelessness, when faced with the consequences but behind all that, her brain felt like a fucking circus. A circus with multiple tornado sirens going off, fires and mass hysteria. Oh, and every clown wore her face. Her stupid, 'rebel against dad' at any chance, war criminal assisting face. She'd rather end up in prison than have to face her dad again. What if he never forgives her for this, what if he never moves on, what if this isn't like every other time she's done something stupid, this could change the course of her li-

"You're not.. actually gonna go to jail, right?" Peter interrupted her raging thoughts, giving her quite the worried stare.

She sighed, fiddling with her phone, "No, he would never let that happen. Not with his troupe of lawyers. I'll get let off with a 'hefty warning'," She emphasized with air quotes, "AKA forty torturous minutes of Cap telling me how I need to make better choices. Though he's stuck in the clink right now so I don't know."

She tried to hide the slight shake to her voice, how it sounded more like she was convincing herself rather than explaining it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Don't tell Mr. Stark I said this but uh- Y'know, he's Captain America, he'll probably break out of there in no time."

She slowly turned her head to look at him, slowly letting a smile break out across her face. "Yeah, maybe. He's pretty crazy. Suuuch a rebellious guy, very anti-government."

Peter shrugged with a hopeful smile, "I don't know, this whole thing started over him not wanting to sign a peace treaty, that seems extremely anti-government."

"I guess you're right Parker, as always." She grinned, ignoring his flushed cheeks at her compliment and letting her eyes drift to Happy.

"You got a marker?"

--

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @lily-sinclair-2006 @b-barnes04 @ink-stained-eyes

[brynnterpretations]

see youve been doing a lotta theboys ship reqs recently HUGE kudos to u got damn, and i love how u write them sm !! hope u dont mind one more ^^ (fine w p much anyone except homelander or deep)

im an anxiety-ridden autistic bi british tguy with a pretty hefty male lean, 5'6"-ish, long hair thats shaved on one side , lotsa face piercings , pretty hairy , scruffy jaw , got a "would be a bear if i hit the gym more often" kinda build . i wear shades 24/7 bc i hate eye contact and bright lights . i generally dont bother picking out an outfit but when i do i lean towards a kinda 50s greaser vibe even tho i dont have a bike or anything

im a recluse and not particularly social , i end most conversations quickly but politely tho i dont let myself get walked over . i do like going for walks , particularly walking my cat , or otherwise hauling something around , its a good workout , but most of the time im indoors and just drawing/animating (what im attending uni for) or playing games . i prefer talking online to in person cause of low social battery , even for family n close friends .

im insecure but otherwise i think j have pretty good self-esteem , and tho im not diagnosed im like 95% sure ive got covert narcissism , i see most people as below me in some way but i dont express this obviously . a lack of attention , particularly online , is distressing and upsetting , and i get defensive very easy . i THRIVE on the feeling of caring for or protecting someone both bc it feeds this and is the only time i can power through my social anxiety .

uhhh cat lover , marine life lover , would spend the rest of my life in an aquarium , would rather be a shark than a human , dont like getting dressed if i dont have to , nail biter , dragon fanatic , would probably be a supe given the chance

hope thats not too much , and thank you !

Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope you like this. ♡

I ship you with...

Frenchie ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @samuelroukin ★ (link)

You and Frenchie meet while you're walking your cat. Frenchie is a huge cat guy (I will die on this hill), and though he hasn't had any of his own since his early twenties, he still makes it his mission to interact with them as much as he can. Cat on the street? Gets pet. Cat in those windows of veterinary offices that you can walk into if you don't seem too shady? Gets pet. Cat in a house the coup is raiding? Gets pet, and moved to a safer location.

So, when he sees your cat being walked, the dude has to go over. Plus, not gonna lie, even in NYC, it's pretty uncommon to see cats being walked, especially down the street that the boys' hideout is located on.

He uses small talk to warm up the awkwardness that comes with a random French man coming up on the street to pet your cat, and eventually asks if you'd ever want to go on a walk sometime. While he initially had his eyes set on your cat, when the guy looked up at you, he immediately saw that you're really, really cute. He has a weakness for facial piercings and for general "scruffiness", so add that on to the cat and the general reservedness? Bro's set.

Through that, you start hanging out a lot and getting to know each other. Frenchie's not a texting person, so you two tend to call a lot, and have a lot of cute but low-key dates, like cooking meals for you at his apartment and playing video games.

And, on that note: Frenchie absolutely sucks at video games, but he has fun playing them with you. While Frenchie is very spatially aware in real life, he is not in online games — bro would get absolutely flamed in any CoD lobby — but would have a blast going through your video game of choice by your side.

You would have to help him with the controls... a lot... but it would be worth it.

Frenchie doesn't really believe in "rushing in" or "waiting too long"; he just makes it official once he feels like it's right. After 2 – 3 months with you, he'd ask if you'd like to be together upfront.

And, once you are: you two would be very, very happy together.

Frenchie's a very intuitive person, and while he wouldn't make any assumptions considering your diagnoses/suspected conditions (he's not about that life), he would catch on to your need for attention and care.

Since he's not really a texter, he'd either call you or send you voice notes to say good morning, good night, tell you about something that reminded him of you, etc.

Is your #1 fan concerning your art, and is endlessly in awe of what you do. He would constantly show your work off to the coup, and would definitely commission you for artwork when your schoolwork slowed down (no, he won't accept free shit, he will commission you, point-blank).

Considering Frenchie's been through a lot, you being a caring person and a "protector" would do wonders for the relationship. While Frenchie's a protective guy himself, the dude wants some time to slow down and be taken care of, and would love anything you did for him and reciprocate it completely.

Is a huge physical touch guy, and as long as you were fine with it, would always have an arm around you, his hand in yours, etc.

Also would definitely love to be the little spoon with you, especially because you're very close in height (he's about 5'8).

Is a big gift-giver, and would always purchase anything he saw that reminded him of you, whether it's a shark stuffed animal, or one of those seashell necklaces that street vendors sell.

Also, he's a bit freaked out about marine life — the vastness of the ocean really, really freaks him out, partially because of a near-drowning accident he had as a kid — but would always go to aquariums with you and try to find aquatic spaces to do stuff.

He would do the ocean, but as much as he loves you, he's probably gonna try limiting that to special occasions.

Would 100% spoil your cat, and if you were up for it, adopt one for you two to co-parent.

Also doesn't have many reservations about moving in "early" — again, timestamps aren't really too important to him — and would especially encourage it if it helped any student finances.

On that note, the guy cannot do structured and organized learning, so he would always brag about your postsecondary education and do everything to encourage you, whether it's bringing you your favorite snacks while working on end-of-the-year projects or rubbing your hands and back after finishing an art piece.

He wouldn't hide his work with the Boys from you, and honestly, would encourage you to get involved, particularly through artwork — anti-Supe propaganda, especially aesthetic pleasing ones, have been lacking nowadays. He'd be open about his work and introduce you to the boys before you became official.

And that brings us to...

The Boys ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @yocalio ★ (link)

So, it's corny... but you and Butcher definitely both bond over both being British/from the U.K. You're one of very few people who were able to immediately understand both his accident and what he was referring to in British slang upon first meeting.

Plus, the guy likes you, even if he doesn't talk to you much. He respects reserved types a lot, and appreciates you leveling out Frenchie's chaos instead of blowing it up (...most of the time).

He wouldn't make an effort to get super close to you — let's be real, he's got a lot of shit to deal with — but would probably invite you out for drinks every once in a while.

A dealbreaker for Frenchie is whether you get along with Kimiko, and fortunately, you two do. While you're not extremely close — you're both pretty introverted, and Kimiko never wants to feel like she's prying — Kimiko really, really likes you, especially when she sees you drawing. She's quite the artist herself, and is fascinated by not only your amazing work, but by the fact you're going to college for it.

Whenever you stop by the hideout, she wouldn't communicate with you much, instead opting to just enjoy your company in silence.

And, if you bring art supplies, she would be so down to parallel-play with you and her drawing side-by-side. While she's not academically trained, she is extremely good at drawing landscapes, and would be very intrigued by your art, as mentioned.

Also would draw you as a present, which would be very cute, even if not fully anatomically correct.

M.M. would like you a lot — he vibes with the shades the first time he sees you — and I feel like you two would be the closest out of the coup. While him encouraging you to would be a bit... annoying... the guy really enjoys your company, and would bond over your shared love of cats.

Would also ask you a lot of questions about cats, because his cat is getting a bit too pudgy and might need to take some strolls downtown.

While you'd be close, he wouldn't ask to hang out with you too much outside of the coup, instead having most of your fun during late nights, considering he's so busy; he'd probably order a pizza for you, Frenchie, and Kimiko and talk with you, and play video games on the very rusty-crusty-dusty XBox that they got to placate Hughie.

Also: he's killer at FPS games, and if you play one with him, y'all will immediately become best friends.

Hughie, Annie, and you wouldn't be super close, but you wouldn't be on bad terms either.

Hughie, quite honestly, would be intimidated; as a ball of social anxiety who tends to seek out more talkative types (E.G. Robin and Annie), he tends to overthink with more quiet people who are less easy to read, and your shades can make it pretty hard for him.

However, your art would definitely lead him to talk to you more (albeitly awkwardly and only in passing), and, if you or Frenchie mention that you play video games... he would try engaging in a yap session with you.

Yes, yes, it's not a stereotypical, "cool guy" game, but Hughie is a huge fan of Minecraft — he's an excellent architect and has actually made tons of custom maps for people to download — so if you play either (or you don't give him a hard time about it), he'd open up to you a lot more.

As for Annie, she just... can't really get a vibe on you. She thinks you're a pleasant person and respects you (she has a lot of admiration for people who go into the arts), but she's someone who believes to be able to "vibe-check" people pretty easily, and because she can't on you, doesn't really know where to go from there.

She wouldn't want to pry, so she wouldn't push you to open up yourself, but if she got more glimmers of you — whether it's through overseeing you and Kimiko drawing, or catching you and M.M. playing on the XBox — she'd spark up a lot more conversations with you.

[wenamedthedogkylo]

Idk if I'm gonna be able to put this in a coherent way rn, but to me it is incredibly fun and interesting to see all the different takes from the fandom on the fictional theology of Exandria, because that seems to me to be much more in line with the point of this campaign. Like to me, whether or not the endgame is to have the party save the gods or help get rid of them is completely irrelevant. I get why people are hung up on that, but I think that focusing only on what the tangible outcome will be—focusing only on what the party will actually end up doing—is missing the point.

The way I see it, the discussion itself of whether the gods are worth saving or not is the point or the theme. We know that the cast all kind of agree upon themes they want to explore before starting a campaign, and this is a pretty hefty one to tackle, but it's a very important one because it's generating conversation where there might otherwise not be any.

There are some pro-gods takes that have me—as someone who personally has had almost exclusively terrible experiences with religious people and certain gods—instinctively recoiling and shaking my head. But there is also validity to the takes that a lot of the anti-gods rhetoric coming out of the NPCs especially is of a very particular brand that most of us dislike almost as much as we dislike proselytizers and zealots. All of those angles being discussed in tandem, that is the point more than anything else as far as I can tell.

In fact, if I were to guess at what theme or point is being presented here, it's that this is not a simple topic and allowing one person or even a single small group of people to decide something as monumental as this for the whole world is categorically insane and unjust. The point is to get people thinking critically about their relationship to faith and gods in conjunction with understanding the relationships others have as well, and to work together to find a solution that is more amicable for everyone involved rather than a solution that makes assumptions for others or only caters to one set of beliefs. It's to understand that one voice should not be heard louder than the others when the fate of millions is at stake. Whether that one voice is the zealotry of Vasselheim or the zealotry of Ludinus Da'leth, because zealotry in ALL its forms is toxic and destructive.

It's not about "are you pro-god or anti-god." It's about "one person should not get to decide the fate of everyone in the world, and one set of beliefs should not get to reign supreme and control everyone's futures." And while I personally lean more in the direction of being anti-god, ultimately I don't care whether they all get eaten or not, or which route the party goes down or even if they find a different route entirely. What matters is that they, the people of Exandria, and the people watching this show all need to grapple with this together and come to a better understanding of one another, so that they can then work to topple any factions which seek to impose a singular world order on everyone else.

Again idk if any of that makes sense, but that's my take on it at least. And that's not at all to discount anyone's personal feelings about the plot or how it's going either! Good fiction makes us wrestle with things in a space that's safe to do so, and we're all wrestling with this together. Just hopefully this will give a slightly different perspective that maybe some people haven't thought of yet.