#that I feel could’ve made a very big difference

[ireneispunk]

Pride, the Wolf, and the Dragon

Jacaerys Velaryon & Cregan Stark x female reader smut (King's Landing Handmaiden)

You were a sight to behold, merely a handmaiden yet you could command a room. And grasp the attention of a prince and a lord... on the same night?

request: (anon) 'Saw your requests are open, what about dark dom jace x sub brat reader or a threesome with the same as before but with cregan too which they're dark dom but still obsessive I don't know how these too can make sense but I hope you got my point'

w.c: 4537

c.w: canon divergent (blacks won and it is set after the dance, rhaenyra sits the iron throne, basically just did it to have everyone in one place), threesome!!! woop woop, p in v sex, oral (m & f receiving), light choking, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, NO use of y/n, as usual no specific features mentioned - let me know if i've missed any!

a.n: i've never wrote for cregan before but im supper happy with this! other requests made are about half done for those waiting ♡

dividers: @v6que ♡

You let out another fake giggle as yet another wealthy man bided for your attention. This type of thing always happened on big occasions, and today certainly was one. Lucerys and Rhaena’s wedding was no small occasion, every lord and lady who had supported Rhaenyra’s claim was here. I mean hells, that’s why you even had the opportunity you did. You weren’t low born, but handmaiden to the queen was a role very much reserved for high born girls. You father had risked his own life, and your families, to help Ser Erryk back into King’s Landing with a secret route he knew through Tumbleton. This job had provided you with a home in quarters you could’ve only dreamed of, and the opportunity to be around the prince. Your fingers grazed across your skin to fiddle with your necklace, you smiled up at the man in front of you, laying on your charm. Despite entertaining his dull conversation and even duller jokes for the past half an hour, you certainly did not care for him. You took advantage of the man’s position in society and every once in a while, you stared beyond his shoulder to see the prince of Dragonstone burning holes into his back. Tonight, however, was different. Not only had you caught they eye of one prince Jacaerys, but his friend from The North, Lord Stark. You could not deny the beauty the two of them shared, handsome, strong features, large frames and eyes that looked as if they wanted to consume you. The few times you looked their way, as to avoid suspicion, they occasionally whispered to one another. A small look caught your eye from your queen, Rhaenyra. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked to the other side of the great hall to where Rhaenyra and Daemon sat. From the opposite side of the table, you felt a gaze upon you, but you did not do the favour of glancing upon them.

You reached Rhaenyra’s side bowing your head before she whispered to you, “Has Lucerys’ chambers been prepared?” She seemed uncomfortable at the request.

You nodded as you said, “Yes, your grace. I can return? And make sure it is still perfect?”. She shook her head, as Daemon placed a hand upon her’s.

“No that won’t be necessary, you have done so much for us today. Feel free to keep enjoying the celebrations,” She paused to look over to her eldest son and the Lord Stark. “Though I believe there are still some who await your acquaintance.” Your mouth formed into a small ‘o’ shape before nodding. You took your leave and turned to face towards the prince and the lord. Both had already been starring at you, Jacaerys averted his gaze whilst the Stark stared you down. Once you stood opposite them at the table you gave the prince a small curtsy, before turning to Cregan and dipping into a deeper curtsey whilst maintaining eye contact with him. He raised his brow, not used to being looked in the eye by such a sweet looking girl. “Your grace. My Lord Stark, I am pleased to meet you.” You spoke confidently, introducing your name and admired the length of his arms that were visible from his rolled sleeves, “It appears the warm climate agrees with you, my lord.” This was one of your favourite hobbies, you couldn’t deny it. Compliment lords see how they respond, speak almost out of turn but not enough to turn any heads. Jacaerys’ grip on his cup tightened at your remark. For weeks since you had worked there you had tortured him. Wearing those barely there handmaiden’s dresses, the obsessive eye contact, compliments unbefitting of a lady he was not courting, drawing his baths, and offering your assistance. Everyday it was a struggle to not rip your dress from you and fuck you in front of everyone like you seemed to desire. He loathed any sort of gathering because he knew your beauty and charm would attract the attention you deserve.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a large smack across the back from his Stark friend. “Where have you been hiding this one Jace?” He exclaimed with a laugh.

You smiled slightly, “Perhaps my lord has not been searching hard enough, enjoy the rest of the celebrations.” You smirked, turning on your heel and stepping down the stone stairs. A bewildered look flashed across Cregan’s face, as Jacaerys shot him a ‘now you know’ look. You were stopped by a rather handsome man on your way past the dancing pairs, you declined his offer to dance and made your way to the other maidens who erupted into quiet chatter, asking you about what the Stark had said.

Your final task of the night had been escorting Rhaena to Lucerys’ chambers. You held her hands in yours and promised her she would be okay, you boasted of Lucerys’ sweet nature and gave her hand a quick squeeze before stepping back behind the corner. You watched as she knocked on the door, before it opened, and she disappeared inside. You smiled to yourself as you turned to head down the corridor before coming face to face with the tall northern man once more. You gasped, raising your hand to your heart. A small chuckle left his lips as he eyed you. He did not know you all that well, but this felt like a rare feat, to catch you off of yours. “My lord, you startled me. Is there something I can help you with?” You looked at him and watched as his eyes shamelessly travelled down your body, lingering on every curve.

“Ah, yes, my lady. I appear to have gotten turned around from my chambers, and I’d hate for those fancy baths these lot make go cold.” You raised a brow at him. Sure, the Red Keep was busy, with windy corridors, but it was a fairly straightforward route from the great hall to the guest’s chambers.

You gestured with your hand to follow him the way he came, “Of course, my lord. Though you do not need to use such honorifics with me, I am not a lady of anything.” He sensed a strange proudness in your lack of title. Cregan was used to people fighting to get the next best thing, yet you were content with your lack of status.

He thought for a moment, before responding. “Then how may I refer to you?”

“However his lord desires.” You spoke with purpose, but never harshly. Every second he had of you intrigued him more.

Once you had reached the familiar door in which Cregan was given a few days prior, you placed your hands behind your back and watched him. He stepped by you and pushed the door open, he leaned against the door frame and eyed you. “So.” You watched him, waiting for him to continue. “Do you have anymore handmaiden duties for the night? Or are you available for me?” A smile tugged at your lips as you thought for a moment.

“Mmm, that depends, why do you wish to know?” Your arms folded over your chest.

He chuckled, “I’ve never had to try this hard to get a pretty girl to have a drink with me.”

You raised your brow, “Most men just ask.” He brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it against the scruff. Just as he was about to respond, someone speaking caught your attention.

“It is getting late your grace is there something you need?” You recognised one of the servants voicing out from around the corner. Out of curiosity, you stepped back to see who it was and there stood the prince himself. He looked away from you when he met your gaze.

“I will come in for a cup of wine. Just one.” Cregan’s face lit up, stepping to the side to allow you to step inside. Your eyes narrowed at the lit fire, the flames still tall. You heard the clanking of a belt and the shuffling of clothes before turning back around to Cregan. You jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him completely nude and making his way over to the bathtub in the room. Your eyes absorbed every inch of him, admiring each defined muscle, every scar, the dark hair that tufted around his chest.

You pulled your gaze away and turned to face the wall. “My lord this is not appropriate.” You voice quivered ever so sightly as heat rose to your cheeks.

“Neither is staring.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “But why waste a perfectly good bath.” You heard water slosh around as he sank into the tub. “Turn around.” Your core lit up at the sternness in his voice.

You turned to face him now that he was submerged, only his upper torso out of the water. He leaned back into the tub, sighing out as he brought his arms to rest on the sides. “Wine?” He questioned. You looked at him with a puzzled look but nodded your head. He gestured over to small table and chairs that had a jug and a few cups upon it. You made your way over, feeling his gaze locked onto you.

“When you invited me in, I thought it might be you fetching the wine.” You grasped two of the cups and the jug before turning to face him.

“Ah, well. It seemed easier to get my own clothes off first.” You raised a brow and walked over to him. You kept your eyes on his face, avoiding what was beneath the water. You used your foot to slide over a cushioned stool towards the side of the bath and sat upon it. You met his gaze once more, now eye level with him. You held out a cup to him and watched his fingers lace around it. Picking up the jug in your hands you steadily poured into the cup, before moving onto your own. You were about to take a sip from yours before he stopped you to clink cups. He did so as if you were another harsh northern man causing the liquid in your cup to slosh backwards and land over your arm and into your lap. You gasped and looked up at him with a shocked look on your face. He laughed heartily at your expression and took a sip of his wine. He heard as your cup clinked against the floor, “You may clean up with me if you wish.” He smirked, placing his cup on the ground, and gesturing to the bath. You stomach tightened at the thought of it but rose to your feet with a hum. He moved slighted and raised his hand up to you. “Stay, please. No more win spilling.” His damned handsome face spread a warmth across your body. You exhaled before taking his hand.

All of a sudden you felt him pull you down, landing bum first into the bath with a big splash that threw water over the sides. You let out a small scream feeling yourself become soaked in water. You yelled at him, splashing his face with the water in annoyance before the door suddenly opening caused his laughter and your screaming to cease. You turned around to see a very angry, then confused, then embarrassed Jacaerys. Your heart dropped as you scrambled to your feet out of the bath, you slipped slightly on the wet floor before stepping towards him. “Y-your grace!” You exclaimed, you felt exposed, the thin material of your dress completely soaked through and clinging to every inch of your body. His eyes darted between you and Cregan.

“I heard a scream, and thought I recognised it. My apologies.” He was about to turn to walk away before Cregan got up out of the tub. Jacaerys eyes widened before hastily shutting the door. Jacaerys kept his eyes firmly on the wall behind you, worrying that if his pants got any tighter it’d be noticeable. For once, you were speechless, unable to form a thought, let alone communicate it. “C’mon Jace, this is exactly how you wanted her. Naked- well almost, needy. I know she’s needy just at the sight of you.” His voice rung out from behind you. “I know you didn’t imagine sharing,” He inhaled sharply through his teeth, as his fingers grazed over your shoulder to pull your hair behind you. “But she’s definitely one who needs two cocks to put her in her place.” You face flushed, as you felt a new wetness in between your legs as Cregan’s hands sat upon your shoulders, rubbing small circles with his thumb. Jacaerys finally brought his gaze to you, he eyed your face before devouring ever inch of your body. His throat bobbed as he walked to face you.

“Tell me what you want.” He spoke as he locked onto your eyes. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling as if you were in a dream.

“I want you,” You spoke softly. “Both of you.” You clarified, looking back over your shoulder to meet Cregan’s eyes.

His large hand rested on your jaw, tilting it up towards him. A shaky breath escaped your lips as his hand trailed down and rested upon your neck, his thumb tracing your throat. Cregan turned your head to face Jacaerys, his jaw was tensed, fists clenched at his sides and eyes filled with hunger. Your body burned hot, Cregan’s body pressed against you, his hard cock pressed above your ass. His grip on your jaw tightened slightly. His lips grazed against your neck up to your ear. “Undress his grace,” Your heart buzzed as Jacaerys’ eyes finally tore away from yours to fleet to Cregan’s for a second before returning to you. You swallowed, feeling smaller and smaller as the seconds passed. “Go on, like a good serving girl.” Cregan’s voice dripped with lust. Your hands made their way onto Jacaerys’ chest, he stiffened under your touch. Your fingers traced along the three headed dragon pin that held his jacket together before unpinning it and letting the jacket fall open at his chest. Cregan’s hands never once left you, tracing up and down your sides of your soaked dress, lips occasionally finding your neck or shoulder. Your eyes travelled down to the belt that decorated his waist and kept you from seeing him. You unhooked it, and pulled it from him, allowing it to clatter to the ground. Your hands pushed his coat from his shoulders and down his arms, revealing a thin cotton shirt. His throat bobbed as your hands traced to his waistband, pulling his shirt up slowly over his head. You hand instinctively touched against his chest, admiring each definition and feeling his skin burn beneath your fingertips. “I told you she’s fucking needy for you.” Cregan’s words flushed your face. Jacaerys eyed you, raising a brow to question him. You nodded lightly feeling overwhelmed with the tightening in your stomach, Cregan’s hands exploring your sides, and Jacaerys watching you like you were his prey. Jacaerys picked up your hand in his and placed a small kiss against it before placing your palm against the bulge in his trousers. Jacaerys’ hand reached your jaw, his thumb traced along your lip as his brows furrowed from your touch.

His fingers were soft, and his touch more delicate than Cregan’s, as he tilted your face to the side as if he were finally able to appreciate every inch of your beauty. His eyes flashed behind yours towards Cregan before you were being led over towards the bed. Jacaerys sat first on the end of the bed, pulling you by your hips to stand between his legs. His palm ran from your stomach, through the valley between your breasts and he rested his fingertips upon your lips while he thought for a moment. “Take off her dress, wouldn’t want the poor thing getting cold.” Your thighs instinctively pressed together. You’d never heard Jacaerys speak in a tone like this, but it was certainly a welcomed surprise. You felt the large hands of the Stark trail up your exposed back to the tie of your haltered dress. One movement later the dress was pulled over your chest and over your hips and dropped to the ground. You felt a cool chill over your exposed skin as Cregan took your hand in is. He pulled you around in a circle, admiring each curve of your form as he did so. A small ‘gods’ mumbled from his lips as he watched you. You gasped as his hands travelled round to your front, taking your breasts into his hands. Jacaerys leaned back slightly to admire you, his fingers absentmindedly rubbing your inner thighs. Your eyes screwed shut as Cregan’s fingers played with your nipples and his lips attached to your neck. “I want her coming on my tongue first.” Your eyes shot open to watch Jacaerys, a small smile playing at his lips. You opened your mouth to say something before Cregan shushed you.

“You heard the prince.” Cregan instructed. You gulped lightly, watching Jacaerys lay back upon the bed, his head of curls hitting the pillows. Cregan held your hand pulling you onto the bed. He watched as you crawled over to Jace, his hand landing on your ass with a harsh slap, causing a yelp to leave your lips.

His hand pushed you closer over Jacaerys until you were straddling his chest. Jacaerys’ hands looped over your thighs to bring your core to his face. His smirk disappeared under your mound as his lips placed small kisses on your thighs. Cregan sat beside you and guided your hand to his cock. He hissed as your hand wrapped around it and began slowly pumping it up and down. You felt as Jacaerys licked a long stripe from your core to your sensitive clit, tasting and collecting your wetness on his tongue. You almost flinched at the sensation, your hand flying up to grip the headboard. A loud moan left your lips as his tongue teased your entrance, before delving in and out of it. Cregan turned your face to him, a groan leaving his lips seeing yours screwed up in pleasure. Your hand continued to pump his cock, enjoying feeling it twitch beneath your hand when your thumb grazed the tip. You jaw dropped at the feeling of Jacaery’s tongue massaging your clit. A flurry of moans left your mouth as his lips latched onto it causing your hips to rut into his face and that familiar tightness to return to your stomach. Cregan’s thumb pulled on your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth and gliding across your tongue. You moans were supressed by Cregan’s thumb as you sucked upon it, a satisfied smirk plastering his face as your eyes fell back behind your lids. His thumb left your mouth with a pop as his hand returned to your throat. Your hand moved quicker on his cock as Jacaerys tongue worked on your clit. “You should thank his grace for his hard work, pleasing you with his tongue like this.” Cregan spoke close to a whisper, well, as close to a whisper as the Northern man could get to.

You whimpered in response, unable to form words being on the precipice of your orgasm. Cregan’s hand squeezed lightly against your throat, his rough fingers grazing your soft flesh. “Use your words when spoken to.” His tone was harsh in a way that flushed your cheeks.

“T-thank you, my prince, for kissing me.” The words fought to escape your lips as all you felt you could do was moan. Your praise causes a groan to fall from his mouth that vibrated upon your clit and fuelled him to massage it at an unbearable pace with his tongue. Your nails dug into the headboard, as your other hand left Cregan’s cock to grip his forearm that held your neck. A flurry of moans left your lips as your orgasm erupted from within you. Your thighs quivered as Jacaerys’ tongue broadly licked you through your high. A large whimper left you lips from the overstimulation causing Jacaerys to place a final kiss upon your clit. You panted as you shuffled down back to straddle his waist. Jacaerys leaned up on his elbows to see you, his hair was dishevelled, his lips plump and coated in your arousal. You leaned forward and tentatively placed a kiss on the side of his mouth, before brushing your lips against his. Your tongue swiped over his lips, tasting your wetness. You gasped as your hips were gripped and you were pulled further down on the bed onto all fours. Jacaerys smirked as you were level with his cock, his pants becoming impossibly tight.

Cregan’s fingers teased the entrance of your pussy as he leaned forward to you, “Gods Jace, she’s soaked.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away slightly. Jacaerys’ hand found your cheek and turned you to face him.

“I want to watch as he fucks you.” He smiled slightly; his words contradicting the sweet look upon his face. A whimper left your lips as you felt Cregan’s cock rub between your folds and occasionally hitting your sensitive clit. You watched in anticipation as Jacaerys undid the tie of his trousers and pulled them down enough for his cock to spring free. It was huge and dripped with an inviting bead of precum.

Just as your lips were about to touch Jacaerys’ cock, Cregan thrusted into you, bottoming out almost immediately. You clenched at the full feeling, your eyes screwed shut as you let out a half yelp half moan. Once his pace became regular you opened your eyes to see Jace stroking his cock at the sight of you. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, begging for his cock. He obliged and groaned at the sight and sensation of the tip hitting your tongue. With both of your hands propping you up on all fours you took him into your mouth bobbing up and down on the tip and massaging the underside with your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan onto his cock with the feeling of Cregan pounding into you, his length hitting a soft spot inside of you you’d never felt before. Cregan’s hands went from peppering small slaps across your ass to kneading it with his large hands. Jacaerys’ hand made its way to your hair and took a fistful of it. He was gentle as his guided your mouth further down his cock. He moaned loudly as it glided across your tongue and hit the back of your throat. The familiar pressure began to build up in your stomach, and as if he read your mind, Cregan’s pace quickened. Both of his hands gripped into your hips, snapping into you, and pushing against your sweet spot. One of his hands left you hips to reach under your and rub harsh circles into your clit. Your eyes widened as your moans got choked upon Jacaerys’ cock. You tapped the side of his thigh, and he immediately pulled you from his cock, allowing heavy pants to leave your mouth. You cried out a loud ‘fuck’ as you felt your second orgasm wash over you, your pussy clenching tightly over Cregan’s cock. Just as quickly as your orgasm passed your mouth reattached to Jacaerys’ cock, wanting him to enjoy himself too.

A few moments after your peak, Cregan thrusted a few more times before burying his cock deep inside of you and filling you up with his cum. He groaned loudly as his fingertips dug into your skin. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed onto the bed behind you. Despite the shaking in your legs and your sensitive pussy, you looked up to Jacaerys with an idea. You readjusted to straddle his waist once more and aligned his cock with the entrance of your pussy. Jacaerys looked shocked for a moment before his hungry gaze returned. Your brows furrowed as you slowly slid down onto his cock, trying to readjust for his size. You watched as his head threw back in pleasure as your second cock of the night bottomed out inside of you. You started to move, slowly thrusting yourself upon him. Jacaerys eyes opened to watch you, occasionally looking down to his cock disappearing inside of your pussy that was now overflowing with cum. A loud groan left his lips as he internally cursed himself for not being able to last longer and savour your pussy smothering his cock. He pulled you down by your hair to meet his lips as he kissed you deeply. It was passionate, his tongue leaving little time before it delved into your mouth. You moaned against his lips at the new angle, he was managing to fill you even more. Your thighs shook with overstimulation and Jacaerys noticed before he held your hips at a certain point and began to thrust into you. Your eyes locked with his as you moaned his name. He grunted as his rhythm became erratic before holding your hips down on his cock and as you felt his seed spread within you. You rested your forehead against his as you both regained your breath. His hands ran softly down your back as he pulled his cock from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, before sitting back onto your thighs to relieve the quiver in them as Jacaerys re tied his trousers.

You heard footsteps walk over to the side of the bed, before looking up to see a fully clothed Cregan. You blushed, realising how consumed you had been in the prince to not notice. “Aren’t you both just adorable.” He spoke with a chuckle, as his hand lightly spanked your ass. You shot him a glare, moving to lay beside Jacaerys. “Easy,” Cregan spoke raising his palm. “I though you were the fire breathing dragon.” He smirked gesturing to Jacaerys. Jacaerys, turned his head down to face you, before returning a shrug to Cregan with a smile. Cregan laughed, waving you off before making his way to the door. “Sleep tight, lovers.” He smiled to himself as his hand gripped the doorhandle.

“Wait! But this is your room?” You questioned, leaning up from the bed.

He shot you a grin, “I heard the prince’s chambers have become available.” He shot you both a wink before disappearing into the corridor. You hummed in confusion as Jacaerys just smiled.

“You both confuse me.” You hummed, scanning Jacaerys’ face. He raised his arm up and motioned you to lay beside him. You huffed as you cuddled into him, your head upon his chest. He reached for the blanket that had been tossed aside and threw it over you both. His hand landed upon your side, and softly rubbed your waist.

He planted a small kiss upon your head. “I think we both did a good job at showing you what we think of you.” You could hear the smile in his voice as your cheeks flushed. You definitely knew for sure now.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[worldlxvlys]

Can you write a fic based on Wednesdays video and we notice he not wearing underwear and it’s visible -don’t know how to explain it well🫣

distracted

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, fantasizing, choking, oral (male receiving), handjob, degradation

a/n: @sophssturn also requested something very similar but my dumbass accidentally deleted the request 😭

hope you enjoy !!

i swear i wasn’t looking on purpose.

ok, that’s a straight lie.

but it’s almost as though he wanted me to look, he knew exactly what he was doing.

he wore those grey sweats, which he knew made me go crazy.

and to top it off, he decided not to wear any underwear ? what a slut.

he knew good and damn well that he was too big to be walking around without any boxers on.

and to do it while he was filming ? when he knew there was nothing i could say or do about it ? yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

i was sitting behind the camera, watching as he cooked burgers for everyone.

every time he moved just a little too quickly, his dick would press against his light-colored sweatpants, the outline of his bulge showing.

of course i was aware of how big he was, but that didn’t mean the entire internet need to know too.

as i continued to stare at him, my eyes scanned over his entire body, imagining him in a completely different scenario.

instead of his wrists flicking with every flip of a burger, they were straining against a restraint, and i was watching him squirm desperately under me.

his pretty mouth was being suffocated under the weight of my body, while my aching heat was shoved in his face.

instead of the oil from the cooked meat dripping down his hands, it was a layer of my arousal decorating his long fingers.

when he threw his head back, moaning at the taste of the hamburger, i imagined him moaning my name while i bounced on his-

“helloooo? did you hear me?” chris asked, pulling me back to reality.

“oh, sorry. i was distracted” i answered, now realizing that everything was cleaned up, and matt and nick had already went off to do whatever.

in front of me sat a hamburger, placed perfectly between two buns on a plate.

“distracted by what?” he asked as he watched me take a bite of the food.

i took a minute to finish chewing before answering, “what do you think?” i deadpanned, watching as he looked at me in confusion.

“you seriously don’t know?” i asked, continuing to eat the burger.

when i finished, he pointed to my mouth, “you have a little..” he trailed off as he collected a bit of juice that dribbled down my lips from the meat.

before he could do anything else, i grabbed his finger, looking up at him as i licked the small bit of liquid from his finger.

he stared at me with his mouth hanging open slightly, before i let go of his hand.

“ tastes good” i spoke to him, making him whine in response.

i reached forward, palming him through his sweats, making him moan out in surprise.

“tell me, what did you think was gonna happen?” i asked as my hand made its way into his sweatpants.

“i- fuck, i don’t know” his head fell back as he whispered, hands gripping my waist.

“yes, you do chris. you did it for a reason, what is it ?” i asked as i left a light kiss to the shell of his ear.

i didn’t get an answer as i began to stroke his length.

i squeezed his base lightly, making him groan in response.

“answer me or i’ll make you cum in your pants out here like the dirty slut you are”

“shit” he breathed out raggedly, attempting to compose himself, “i wanted you to fuck me”

“you could’ve just asked baby”

“but i-“ he shuddered the feeling of my hands continuously squeezing him, “i need it rougher”

at those words, i pulled my hand from his pants, “say fucking less” i spoke as i grabbed his hand, pulling him to his room.

when we got there, i closed and locked the door behind us, before pushing him into it roughly.

“talk to me chris. tell me what you want” i spoke.

“ i told you already, i-” i brought my hand to his throat, squeezing it slightly.

“excuse me?” i asked him, eyebrows raised.

his eyes widened slightly, his gaze dropping to my lips. “try that again” i told him.

“i need you to fuck me” he whispered. “louder” i spoke.

“need you to fuck me” he spoke, his voice slightly raised.

“louder”

“they’re gonna hear-” he started before i cut him off, “i don’t really give a fuck. you wanna act like a little bitch in heat ? i’ll treat you like one, say it louder”

“please, please fuck me. need you to fuck me so bad” he spoke up, whining desperately.

“was that so hard?” i asked, tilting my head to the side.

i slid my hand up to grab his jaw, pulling his face toward mine into a heated kiss.

my hands wove into his hair, harshly tugging on his brown locks while his found their way around my waist.

i swallowed his moans as my lips danced along his greedily.

i ran my hands down his clothed chest, letting my fingertips toy with the hem of his shirt.

he took the hint, pulling away for a second to pull his shirt off, before his lips found their way back to mine.

my hands explored the new skin, running along his chest before stopping at his waistband.

i teasingly rubbed his stomach, fingers brushing the waistband but never moving past it.

he pulled away to speak, his mouth slightly open, “don’t tease”

i raised my eyebrows at him, grabbing him by his arm and guiding him to sit on the bed.

“maybe if you weren’t walking around without any underwear on, i’d listen to you” i spoke as i sunk down to my knees in front of him.

his eyes widened slightly as i left a kiss to his clothed dick.

he looked down at me with hooded eyes, watching as i slowly pulled his sweatpants down.

his hard dick slapped his stomach, pre-cum dripping onto his abs.

chris’s breathing sped up in anticipation, his hands clutching the sheets underneath him.

i placed my hands on his thighs, keeping them pulled apart while i leaned forward, collecting his arousal with my tongue.

i started at his stomach, licking at the small beads of arousal, before swirling my tongue around his tip.

“fuck” he breathed out, his head instantly flying back.

“talk to me, baby. you feeling good ?” i asked him.

CHRIS’S POV

“yes, feels so good” i whispered, brows furrowing as she teased me.

she brought the palm of her hand to my tip, rubbing me in quick, circular motions.

my hips jerked up at the feeling, my mind growing fuzzy at the amount of pleasure that coursed through me.

“you think you deserve to cum ?” she asked, looking up at me through her lashes.

she pulled her hand off of me suddenly, deciding to tease me more.

my mouth hung open, but i was unable to form any words as my mind was consumed with her.

her hands, running up my thighs, but always stopping just before her fingers could graze my dick.

her face, glaring up at me with that look in her eyes that told me i was going to be gone by the end of tonight.

her lips, so plump, curved to fit around my dick perfectly.

“please, i need your mouth” i whined as she moved her face closer to me, her breath tickling my painfully hard cock.

“yeah? well i need you to learn how to listen” she spoke, moving away from me.

if there was one thing she loved to do, it was tease me. she wanted to push me to my limits until i lost it.

and she knew exactly how to get me there.

“ok, ok, i’m sorry. please, please, i need your mouth so bad”

ignoring my pleas, she pulled her shirt over her head.

“you never answered my question earlier, chris” she spoke.

her words went in one ear and out the other, however, when i saw what she was wearing underneath her clothes.

“fuck” i groaned out at the site of the black lace that adorned her skin.

the bra had a low cut, her tits sitting perfectly in the cups.

the bottom left little to the imagination, the lips of her pussy hugging the small string of fabric that barely covered it.

“do you deserve to cum?” she repeated her question from earlier, tilting her head at me.

“yes” i spoke quickly, desperate to have her in any way i could.

“i don’t know, you didn’t answer me the first time” she spoke, moving to straddle my waist.

“guess i’ll take that as a no” she spoke as my hands found their was to her hips.

“cum before i tell you and i swear to god i’ll edge you until you start crying” she spoke firmly as she lined herself up with my dick.

“f-fuck” i groaned at the feeling of her pussy sucking up my sensitive tip.

i held her close to me while she continued to take me inch by inch, until her hips met mine.

when i bottomed out, we both let out moans of content.

she began to roll her hips into mine slowly, before bouncing on my cock.

i watched as her covered tits bounced in my face with every one of her harsh movements on top of me.

i squeezed her hips tightly, needing something to grab onto as she found her rhythm.

her tight pussy continued to squeeze me, each pull of her hips pushing me deeper and deeper into a euphoric state.

“g-god, feels so good” i groaned out, watching her eyes light up at the praise.

“yeah?” she asked, grabbing my jaw to pull my face closer to hers.

“fuck yes, you’re so good to me baby” i spoke against her lips.

she ground her hips down against mine as she pressed a fervent kiss to my lips, her fingers finding their way back to my hair.

when i pulled away, i left kisses on her neck, making my way down to her boobs.

“so beautiful” i whispered up to her.

“hmm, so sweet to me” she spoke, “but i’m still not letting you cum” she pushed my chest, making me fall back onto the bed.

she laid her hands on my chest, using it as leverage to increase her speed on top of me.

“you look so good on top of me like this” i groaned out.

i was barely holding it together, something about the way she took control made me lose my mind.

“i’m so close” i whined as the sounds of our skin slapping against each other’s filled the room.

“well that sucks for you then, huh ?” she asked as she brought her hand to my throat, lightly choking me.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the action, my fingers digging into her thighs.

“i- please, i need it, need it so bad” i struggled to form a logical sentence as she leaned back, placing her hands on my thighs.

“oh my g-god” i moaned, desperately trying to hold back my orgasm.

“wait until i tell you” she spoke, moving my head to look at her.

i glanced down to where our bodies met, getting lost in the way her glistening pussy engulfed my dick.

i could’ve came from the sight alone.

“please, please, please” i repeated the word like it was a chant, knowing i wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer.

“i’m almost there, baby. so close, just hold on a little bit longer for me”

my head flew back when she clenched around me, eliciting a loud moan from me.

“fuck, let go for me chris. let it all out” she moaned as she continued to clench around me.

i sat up to close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her waist to hold her close to me.

my legs began to shake, my abdominal muscles tightening as i was hit with a shockwave of pleasure.

my hips bucked up into her, making her moan while i shot my load into her weeping hole.

“fuck chris, right there ! right there” she cried out as i unintentionally thrusted into her, my cock buried as deep as it could go inside of her.

she let out one last moan as i felt her release all over me, my dick coated in her pleasure.

my body went limp underneath her, letting her take control as she worked us through our highs.

once we both calmed down, she lifted herself off of me slowly, before making her way to my bathroom.

when she returned, she held two towels in either hand; one wet and one dry.

she gently rubbed the wet towel against my skin, cleaning up the sticky substance that resided from our previous orgasms.

“are you ok my love? did i hurt you?” she asked me while she continued to clean me up.

she took the second towel, drying my wet skin while i answered, “no baby. i’m ok” i smiled lightly at her.

“good” she answered before finishing up, and doing the same for herself.

she discarded the towels in the hamper before coming back over to me.

“wanna take a shower?” she asked as her hands found their way to my waist, rubbing light circles into it.

“yeah” i spoke as i went to stand up, immediately halting my movements when it felt like my legs were going to give out.

“what’s wrong?” she asked, noticing the way i quickly sat back down.

“my legs are…” i trailed off, searching for a word that wouldn’t make the effect she had on me so obvious.

i didn’t need to feed her ego any more than i already had.

it was no use, though, as she picked up on what was happening.

“you can’t walk ?” she asked, a smug grin growing on her face.

“shut up” i spoke, shaking my head at her.

“awww, it’s ok baby, i’ll take care of you” she spoke, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

she went to help me up before pausing, “want me to pick you up?” she teased.

🦢🦢🦢🦢

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @chrisstopherfilmed @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @evieolo @riasturns @sturnssmuts @nicksmainbitch @luverboychris

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie is introduced to Jonathan, they both give each other a look that says “if you say anything, you’re dead” and naturally, Nancy clocks it immediately.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” they said at the same time, only growing the suspicion.

“Seriously? Do you know each other already?”

“No!”

“Yes, but-“

They glare at each other, but Eddie speaks up again.

“He bought from me a couple times. No big deal.”

Nancy looks between them, shakes her head. “There’s something else going on. But we’ve got bigger problems.”

And they did.

For months, their problems seemed to get worse by the day. It was a great distraction.

But honestly, anytime Eddie spent more time with Jonathan, it got harder not to say how they actually knew each other: a make out session in a bathroom at a party when Jonathan was yearning for Nancy.

He told Steve eventually, had to with the way he kept finding ways to avoid being around Jonathan and Steve got suspicious.

“If he said something to you about us, I’ll take care of it. He doesn’t get to say shit about what makes us happy.”

And Eddie couldn’t have Steve lose another fight, so he told him.

“So wait. You and Jonathan…”

“Made out. Yes.”

“Like…with tongue?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember tongue being involved.”

“And hands?”

“They were there too.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips, lifts one to wipe over his face, then settles it back on his hip. “And you liked it?”

“Considering at the time my options were Jonathan or the girl in Hellfire who insisted I wasn’t gay because I looked at her during campaigns, yeah. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve been through.”

Steve huffed. “Yeah, but like. Compared to me-“

“Oh my god.”

“What?!”

“I cannot believe you’re jealous of Jonathan Byers. Again.”

“I’m not! I’ve never-“

Eddie raised his brows. “Never? Not once?”

“That was different!”

“That was worse.”

“I dunno, finding out your boyfriend has made out with the only other guy in Hawkins who’d be up for it is arguably worse.”

Steve pouted for hours. Eddie let him.

It was cute, alright?

And when he got over it, they made out for hours in his bed.

Steve, of course, was the one who told Nancy.

In his defense, he was very high, and Nancy had been pushing him all night, from the moment she caught wind that he might know how they knew each other.

Eddie went inside to grab them all water, and she pounced.

By the time Eddie got back, Steve was half asleep and Nancy was smirking at Eddie.

“You could’ve just said.”

“He’s never getting high for free again.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s back to being a paying customer, too.”

Nancy laughed, startling Steve into opening his eyes. He smiled up at Eddie, no clue he’d just given up one of their secrets.

“Hi, baby. You know Nancy didn’t know about you and Jonathan?”

Eddie glanced over to see Nancy rolling on her side, laughing hysterically.

“Yeah. I’m sure that was on purpose. How about we get you to bed, superstar?”

He managed to get Steve onto the couch, where he immediately passed out.

Nancy hugged him, kissed his cheek, like she always did before leaving.

“It’s not a big deal, you know. He’s mentioned that he isn’t only into women. We’ve talked a lot about the Argyle situation.” She walked towards the door. “Steve will get over the jealousy eventually. It’s not like Jonathan wouldn’t have made out with him if he could have.”

She left before Eddie could respond.

Eddie suddenly understood exactly what Steve was feeling.

“Not gonna happen,” he mumbled to himself before joining Steve on the couch and pulling him close.

[wndaswife]

(fic request) pls write this w nun!wanda (if you want) 😵😵😵

to worship and submit | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Being the daughter of the man that leads the church choir means attending the services when you run out of excuses to be anywhere else, but a young woman who's recently joined the parish to become a nun has begun to make your time there worthwhile.

Word count: 7419

Tags: smut, fluff, humour, sacrilege, quite literally fucking in front of a crucifix, even i feel slightly guilty for writing it, strap-ons, rough sex, spanking, slapping, spitting, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader | MINORS DNI

A/N: SO... i did do some research for this fic... but only SOME... meaning some of the info may be incorrect fyi!!!

gif credit to evilly

Every Sunday since your dad joined the church as their choir leader, you’d been making yourself busy in advance just in case he’d ask if you wanted to come to the services. 

You were proud of your dad — really, you were — because he loved music and loved the community the church brought him, and the church was closeby to where your mom worked as an elementary school teacher, so your parents were able to work together when there were community events that involved both the school and the church.

Though, being happy for your dad didn’t mean you also had to be happy when he invited you to the services.

Sometimes you’d attend special occasions like Easter and other holidays and church events wherein your dad prepared his own assortment of music and such for the choir to play, but only because you were there to support him and what he was passionate about — music and community and his family.

Such events were big deals at the church he volunteered at because it was well-known for its large community; the church itself was closely connected to a nearby convent where it had close ties to the nunnery there, as well as having one of if not the most ornate architecture all preserved within a historically-significant religious landmark.

But for the last few weeks, he hadn’t asked you to go with him because he was so busy with the new influx of students joining from the Catholic elementary school your mom worked at; they were all there singing on the weekends for their volunteer hours, but at the very least, your dad said they were still enthusiastic and friendly kids.

So on the morning of one of the very rare occasions in which you hadn’t had anything planned for the Sunday because you weren’t expecting him to invite you as he hadn’t for the last while, your dad invited you to the service.

You could’ve truly made up an excuse and flat-out lied about being busy, but it’d been a while since he asked and you knew he’d been working hard with the new students in his group, so you supposed it wasn’t so much trouble to accept his offer, even if you did groan it out in a superficial fit about having to get out of bed earlier.

It wasn’t that you not being religious had anything major to do with avoiding going to church, because you didn’t entirely mind when your religious parents brought you to the services for special occasions, but rather because you didn’t very much have the patience or sufficient concern for the readings and worship to attend the nearly-two-hour services.

That was truly your most pressing issue with attending the Sunday services with your dad, but today was different, with an unexpected experience to make you dread going even more than you did previously.

“Excuse me?” a timid, unfamiliar voice chirped from behind you.

You turned to see a young woman standing by the doorway of the back hall where the entrance to the choir balcony was. 

Typically, you sat around there when your dad was conducting because you weren’t very involved in the church enough to sit at the pews nor were you part of the choir. 

But from where you were sitting, you weren’t entirely uninvolved as you could still see and hear the services — it was the perfect spot. 

“You aren’t allowed to sit here,” the young woman told you, running the pads of her two fingers along the edge of her sleeve. 

Her dark brown hair was neatly pulled back into a conservative bun and she was wearing a black plain dress with a modest plain scoop neckline to show the buttons and collar of the crisply-ironed long-sleeved white blouse underneath that all of the church’s nuns wore, but the simplicity of her outfit and the uncovering of her hair meant to you that she was presently studying at the church to become a nun. 

“I’m the choir dude’s daughter,” you said with a polite smile and looked away, expecting for your response to be all the elaboration she needed. 

In a way that was subtle with the intention not to be offensive but in that very manner was offensive in itself because of how irritating her caution was, the woman cleared her throat. 

“I-I know,” she pressed, “but this area isn’t open for seating. For anyone.”

When you didn’t answer for a moment as you stared at her, she quickly said, “I’m sorry. They told me to tell you.”

“I’ll find a spot in the pews,” you answered and collected your things. 

From the corner of your eye, it seemed that she wanted to offer a seating alternative just to make up for what she was forced to tell you, but there wasn’t very much else she could offer. 

That Thursday, you were back at the church to pick up an ironed uniform for your dad; it was for a special event set for the upcoming Sunday, and the church pressed it for him and everything. 

It was a nice gesture.

They were nice people.

On Thursdays, there were only morning services and events for children in another spacious room where they could colour and play with the church’s team leaders and nuns. 

But in the afternoon — which it now was — there wasn’t anything going on. 

When you arrived, the church was still and warm with gentle sunlight shining through the stained glass windows and casting a myriad of colours against the pews. 

You looked over your dad’s text again and walked through the directions he told you to take to get to the back halls of the church, just a few turns from the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. 

The room where you were to pick up the uniform was as pretty as the rest of the church; it was a small prayer room with a pedestal and stained windows and red carpeting, but it was much cozier and probably hadn’t been used for prayer for the group size it was designed for in a little while.

You could see through the glass door the folded uniform for your dad on the windowsill behind the pedestal with a name tag placed on top of it ready for pick-up along with a few other clothes for some other church volunteers. 

Upon entry, you closed the door quietly behind you and stepped into the room where you could now see a small table by the window and a familiar young woman sitting with a notebook, jotting a few things down from what looked like a leather-bound book. 

“Can I just get my dad’s uniform from there, or do I need to sign it off or something?” you asked, announcing your presence. 

She looked up from the notebook and at you then to the uniforms on the windowsill. 

“Oh, you’re…” She paused and thought for a moment. “The choir conductor’s daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“I can sign it off for you,” she replied and smiled. 

She stood from the table and walked around it to the uniforms, where a piece of paper was set beside the line of neatly-folded clothes.

You watched as she jotted down a few things onto the paper with a pen before carefully picking up the packaged uniform and turning to hand it to you.

“Thank you,” you answered. 

“Of course. Have a good day,” she replied and bid you a goodbye before heading back to the table by the window. 

You were on the way to leave the room, but you couldn’t, for some odd reason, take your eyes away from the way she lowered herself into her seat and resumed her notetaking. 

She didn’t notice when you changed your direction and walked towards the table she was sitting at until you were perhaps just a metre away from her, when she then looked up from her notes and up at you. 

“Did I give you the wrong uniform?” she asked, worried and now standing up from her chair. 

“No,” you answered quickly and waved your hand.

She stayed standing, curious as to why you walked back. 

“Hard at work?” you asked, pointing at her notebook. 

Confused for a moment, perhaps by your curiosity in speaking with her, she looked over to her notebook and then back at you with a friendly smile, “Yes, a little. They gave me something to study from. I’m just taking notes.”

Carefully, you reached forward and spun her notebook around so you could read it. 

Her curiosity seemed to spike when you leaned forward to read her notes, and she looked at you with a small smile. 

“Um,” she started awkwardly. “I want to apologise for earlier this week. For making you move seats.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you replied and looked up from her notes to smile at her reassuringly. “I know they just made you tell me because you’re new.”

The young woman seemed reassured, her shoulders even relaxing a bit when you said it. 

“You’re still… What do you call it? Like, you’re studying to be a nun here? Not fully one yet?”

She shook her head. 

“Yes, I’m in the study period before becoming a novitiate,” she answered. 

Your fingers ran over her delicate handwriting, feeling the indentations of her pen against the paper.

“To worship and submit,” you read aloud from the notebook. “Fascinating.”

She caught onto your twinge of sarcasm but approached it with humour, laughing a little and conceding, “It is a bit medieval, but an important quality, I’d presume.”

Reflecting suddenly on how young the woman seemed much younger than the other nuns, you asked her, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

She was a bit older than you, but still quite young.

Her hair was down now, though still neatly brushed and free of frizz and tucked behind her ears. She was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and an ankle-length black skirt patterned lightly with gardenias. 

“How did you get into wanting to be a nun, anyhow?” you asked and moved your attention away from the notebook and towards her. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“I-I don’t?” she inquired, almost sounding nervous at the implication that she wasn’t training herself properly. 

“I mean, pious and submissive — sure,” you said, referring to her notes, which made her seem a bit flustered, “but not like a nun.”

She questioned curiously, “More like…?”

After humming aloud in thought, you turned to her with your hip laying against the edge of the table and suggested, “Elementary school teacher. Vet. I don’t know, something like that.”

She was pretty — truly. 

Cute, even. 

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a vet,” she told you, smiling sweetly. 

“Changed your mind?”

“Younger as in quite young, perhaps around ten,” she recalled. “My parents are both rather religious and ever since I turned fourteen it’s always been their intention to have me join a congregation.”

Interest piqued, you asked, “And your intention for yourself was…?”

“For myself?” she repeated as if taken by surprise. 

You nodded once. 

She paused for a moment to hum thoughtfully before saying, “I was happy to follow whichever path my parents intended for me.”

“You find passion in nunnery?” you asked. “Genuine question — not judging.”

“Of course,” she answered. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you quickly checked it to see that your dad had messaged asking if you were able to pick up his uniform.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been holding you back from something,” the woman apologised and stepped to the side to allow you to leave.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket and adjusting your dad’s uniform in your hand, you replied, “No, not at all. My dad’s just impatient. I should get going now though, since here’s a few errands I have to run before noon.”

She nodded in understanding. 

“It was nice being able to talk with you,” she then said. “I haven’t been able to talk with very many people since I came here. It’s all just been about studying and the church.”

Before you left, you made sure to ask for her name, to which she replied telling you it was ‘Wanda.’

Cute name.

It’d been quite a while since you ever attended the services two weeks in a row. The last you did was during the last half of August the first year your dad started conducting the church choir, during which you had nothing else to do but wait for classes to start — so you went to the services.

This time, because the church was celebrating something special, your dad asked both you and your mother to attend the service because he’d been working on preparing a set of songs for the occasion.

Under the guise of being a supportive daughter, your parents didn’t second guess why you were so willing to attend the service this week, nor did they ask if there was a certain individual you were perhaps a bit excited to see again.

Truthfully, you couldn’t stop thinking of Wanda since you last saw her a few days ago. There was much to her you felt laid dormant and sleeping, awakened only just in the slightest during the conversation you had with her. She was kind and curious, but also painfully naive. 

She was a few years older than you but knew far less about the truth of her own ambitions and strayed perhaps not even a foot’s distance away from behind her parents’ shadows.

Wanda was interesting, but intrigued you for far too long for her to be only that. Though you couldn’t very well figure out what it was about her that made her bounce around in your head like a pinball until an unassuming evening.

It was sincerely an unrelated act when you first started, travelling your hand down between your legs in the silence of the evening to relieve yourself of the pent-up stress from classes that’d come over you during the last few days.

Truly, it was completely unrelated to Wanda and anything and everything about her when you started, and even during, until you reached your peak of release and found your imagination flashing with curiosities about what she looked like under her garments, how she’d squeal if you spanked her ass and if she’d like it, or how she’d cry out in sheer pleasure if you forced her down and made her take her spankings regardless.

For a moment afterwards there was guilt, but every day onwards there was curiosity, wondering for hours about what you’d seen when you reached that point of pleasure during which Wanda was your only muse.

You’d like to tell yourself it was only that curiosity that guided your willingness to attend the service with your parents, but it was something else entirely too — something completely carnal.

For the first hour of the service, Wanda was still nowhere to be seen. Because of the church’s connections with its convent, the nuns had a large role in some of the day-to-day happenings, but mostly during important church events like what you were presently attending.

Wanda wasn’t a nun yet; she was yet to be even a novitiate as she had mentioned, and so perhaps she just didn’t get to attend events like these. 

Though you personally found that counter-productive, you weren't one to complain about the convent’s decisions, but you did wish you got to see Wanda.

If she wasn’t one to be able to attend such events, when would you see her next?

After coming to the realisation that you probably just weren’t going to see her today or perhaps even for a little while, you excused yourself after having been present for nearly all of your dad’s song arrangements and with enough time to be able to be back from the washroom with well-enough time to catch the rest of his songs.

To your surprise, you saw the very woman who’d been on your mind for the last hour was sitting in the hall by the stairway that led up to the choir balcony. She was wearing the same outfit as she had been the first time you met her, with her hair done up in the same way too.

“Excuse me, but you aren’t allowed to sit here,” you teased, approaching from the right and walking into the hallway.

She quickly swiped at her eyes and began to apologise before she raised her head and saw it was you who had spoken to her, and you who now stood beside the bench she was sitting on.

Though she smiled and seemed relieved and happy to see you, you could tell that she’d just been crying — alone in this hallway away from the service and the nuns and sitting at the far end of the bench so as not to be seen by the people attending the mass.

Wanda stood, running her palms down the sides of her dress with a friendly smile while saying, “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” you answered distractedly as you focused on the slight redness of her eyes and the tip of her nose. 

You then asked once you were sure she’d been crying, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious after realising it must've been obvious that she’d been crying, Wanda carefully wiped under her eyes again and even tried making herself seem less dishevelled by tucking her hair behind her ears before you took her hands away from her face and made her stop fidgeting with her appearance.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?” you pressed.

Dismissively as to not bring any more attention to herself, she told you, “It’s really nothing. It’s nothing to bother you with.”

“I wanna be bothered,” you answered lightheartedly. “Come on.”

Wanda smiled at your gaiety and you urged her to tell you what was wrong once more before she finally exhaled in surrender though she didn’t sit down before speaking, implying that in spite of the fact of giving in to you, she wasn’t very well planning on delving too deep into what had been bothering her.

“Earlier today, I had accidentally misplaced the leather book I’d been studying from — the one you saw me with a few days prior, if you can remember,” she said. “And I was scolded terribly for it. It was quite deserving as it was an important collection of notes and such, so I do not question from where my scolding had come, but it seems to me that all I’ve done since I started here is get myself in trouble with the other nuns.”

Here, you tried taking her hand and urging her to sit down, but she wouldn’t, and slipped her fingers out of your hold.

“They found the book in one of the small prayer rooms I’d been studying in, so at the very least it was not a mistake of ruining the integrity of the book by losing it completely, but rather the very principle of having been given something so important and misplacing it,” she continued.

Wanda swallowed and seemed to be contemplating whether to go into more detail, and you could tell that there was something else that had been bothering her that didn’t exactly have to do with misplacing the book.

Before she had the chance to make a decision, there was a passerby who came from the service in search of the restrooms, which interrupted Wanda’s train of thought as she and the man exchanged a brief hello.

“We can go somewhere else,” you offered, taking her hand and heading down the hallway with her. She didn’t take her hand away from you this time, but instead told you that she only needed time to be on her own and that she was fine now. 

The only other place you knew was the prayer room you picked your dad’s uniform up in, and fortunately it was unlocked.

You ushered Wanda into the room and she smiled at you from behind and you led her forward to one of the front seats in front of the altar, regarding you with admiration for the effort you put into wanting to express your concern for her and make sure she felt heard. 

The early morning beams of light shone through the stained glass like they had that afternoon you’d come here a few days prior, but the room was far less stuffy now, familiar and almost reminiscent of something nostalgic. 

The feeling could easily be because of the fact that you’d been envisioning what you could remember from it nearly every hour since that past Thursday, with the room in the background of your mental portrait of Wanda. 

She settled down in the seat beside you, feeling encouraged more so because she wanted now to be closer to you rather than solely to sit and talk about what had been bothering her. 

But she could partake in the latter if that was what you asked of her — and it was. 

“I know that I hardly know you, but I’ve been here for nearly a whole month and you are the person I feel closest to,” she confessed.

You felt flattered, though you knew telling you that she felt close to you wasn’t exactly the point of why she said that. 

Wanda further reflected aloud, “I’m getting nowhere I’m supposed to, not finding the call to God like both my parents and the nuns told me about though I have even given it plenty of time. I studied English in college and yet can find not even a little interest in my religious readings.”

While she thought in silence for a moment, you didn’t interrupt her. 

When she found the words to verbalise what she’d been meaning to say, she began with a question: “Do you remember when you asked what my own intentions were for myself? On Thursday?”

You nodded. 

“It’s ridiculous, but I can’t even recall the last time I sincerely asked that to myself, but perhaps in shallower terms, such as wondering where I might be in a few years or what I might do with my time in the convent.

“But never what I wanted — never who I wanted to be.”

After a moment, when you were sure she wasn’t trying to find words to express herself nor contemplating whether to say something, you asked, “And do you know who you want to be?”

For a brief moment — half of one, really — Wanda looked thoughtful, and then she said and gestured to her clothing and the prayer room, “Not this.”

“So then, what?” you inquired further. 

You teased, “A vet?”

Wanda giggled and sat back a bit in her seat. “Perhaps if I were ten,” she said. 

Then more seriously, she added, “But now, I’m not very sure.”

“How did you come to realise what you were interested in?” Wanda asked. “For example, your studies. What are you studying?”

She was talking fast, obviously very invested in your conversation together and also rather curious about you. 

You thought that was cute; you liked Wanda. 

“I’m studying philosophy,” you told her to which she straightened and was eager to hear more about. “But with studies, it’s different, because you’re talking about more personal matters. Academics are far different from personal paths.”

Wanda seemed a bit disappointed because she was looking for a definite answer, but what you explained certainly made sense to her. 

She pondered about something then instead asked, “So about personal matters, then. What about those?”

“What about them?”

“Give me a principle to follow,” she sought. “Something I might be able to apply here. Something as general as you’d like it to be, but applicable.”

Her steadily growing smile made it clear that though she was certainly looking for advice, she also thoroughly enjoyed exchanging quips with you and exploring more about you. 

In a way, she was as eager to learn about you than how to help herself, if not more so. 

You hummed thoughtfully and Wanda watched as you were deep in thought. 

“A principle for you,” you said, “could easily be that it’s okay to be selfish, to think only of yourself when you’ve spent so long doing anything else.”

Wanda asked, slightly amused but far more curious, “You recommend hedonism?” 

“To you?”

She nodded. 

You replied, “Indubitably.”

If you hadn’t already been thinking of Wanda in painfully great amounts before that morning, then you certainly were afterwards. 

The third week came around and by then Wanda was banging against every square inch of your skull like an intruder, necessitating the need to be seen and thought of every other minute in any way you could.

Perhaps the relationship you developed with her thus far was one of friendship and nothing more, yet her persistence that never strayed too far from your mind seemed to you that she had become reminiscent of something greater than a platonic figure. 

In any case, you had to muster the ability to ask your dad in the most nonchalant manner you could if it were possible for you attend Sunday’s service. 

You did it in a way that did not make it seem to him that you were about to become a familiar face in the church, but rather that someone had simply happened to ask you for help during the last service and wondered if you might be able to attend the next — which is quite literally what you told him. 

It wasn’t a lie. 

Not even when you said that it was a young woman who was studying to become a novitiate at the convent that was curious about the choir and the other volunteers and had asked you about it last week, because Wanda did truly ask about the choir and the other people who volunteered at the church once. 

But that wasn’t at all the reason why you wanted to attend the service that Sunday. 

“Y/N,” a voice called in a hushed tone when you passed the hallway leading up to the choir stairway where your dad had already walked up towards. 

You slipped away from the people filing into the pews and quickly came to Wanda’s side. 

“Don’t you have places to be aside from fraternising with the guests?” you teased as she took your wrist and led you towards the room you both seemed to like talking in the most. 

“After last week’s ordeal with the book, I’ve been put on some kind of probation from participating in the services so I have more time to study independently,” she told you, not seeming particularly worried.

She added, “On Sundays, the convent is rather empty, so they wouldn’t notice that I’m off not studying. Though I could very well say I chose to study in one of the extra prayer rooms here.”

“And I’m sure they remember how much you love the prayer rooms here,” you said, wiggling your eyebrows at your reference to her having lost the book in one of them. 

Wanda faked a laugh in the driest manner you’d ever heard and you nudged her arm to which she told you to stop joking around with her so she could tell you something important. 

She closed the prayer room door and sat you down beside her. 

From a small bag on the chair to her left, she pulled out a small dictionary. 

Here, you were tempted to make fun of her and ask why she was carrying around a dictionary so tiny, but you recalled that she had wanted to ask you about something serious. 

She flipped open to a page she had bookmarked. 

“Hedonism,” she read aloud. “In philosophy, the belief that pleasure and the absence of pain is the most important principle in determining the morality of an action.”

Wanda looked up at you from the dictionary. “This is what you meant?” she asked. 

You nodded. 

Curiously, you inquired, “Do you agree with it?”

She looked back down to the page in which had written three definitions of hedonism, the third being the one defined by philosophy. 

The first two you could not quite read upside down. 

“I have never heard of it in such detail before the time you mentioned it last week,” she said, running her eyes over the words in contemplation, “but it’s interesting.”

“What would be your first endeavour to pleasure, if you had to make a guess?” you asked her.

Wanda ran over the words of the definition again with her eyes, perhaps still deep in thought about it or absently doing so while she contemplated an answer to your question. 

“My first?” she repeated. 

You looked down at the dictionary page now that she was holding it at a slightly different angle that oriented the letters better for you. 

The first definition read, ‘Pursuit of pleasure.’

And the second — you had to tip your head to the side a bit to decipher it — read, ‘Sensual self-indulgence.’

During your deep concentration, Wanda had come to an answer to your question, and it wasn’t until she leaned forward and kissed your unsuspecting lips that you realised she had even stopped looking at the page. 

It was the uttering of her muffled words against your lips that triggered something deep within you, perhaps equally as restrained as her own. 

An unfinished sentence, but one on its own nonetheless. 

‘I want…’ she had uttered, breathless and with one hand cupping your cheek and feeling with the pads of her fingers the softness of your skin. 

With that, you hastily reached forward and grasped at her ass, lifting her from her seat and stripping her down so she was in nothing but her undergarments. 

The paths of your nails streaked red against her pale skin while you devoured her every step of the way, your lips following every inch of skin that became exposed to you while your hands made quick work of unzipping her dress and unbuttoning her blouse. 

She sighed when you kissed her breasts and squeezed your hands around her waist and hips, taking her selfishly and finally spreading her legs and sitting her down in your lap. 

“Are you…” you began between breaths, pausing to figure out your wording and sitting back in your seat to look at her. “Have you had sex?”

Wanda giggled, finding your question amusing. “Of course I have,” she replied and took your hands and placed them on her hips again. 

“Cocky,” you jested, hooking your thumb under the clasp of her bra and releasing it so it snapped against her back, causing her to arch her body into you with a soft gasp. “Thought you might’ve been abstinent or something.”

“I don’t mean to be cocky,” she said in a low voice. “But I am certainly not abstinent.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Only if you choose to be.”

“I choose to be,” you said with conviction. “So for whom should I be jealous, then?”

“College students.”

You gasped superficially.

“You fuck college students? Exclusively?”

“No!” she laughed. “I mean I haven’t been very active since my time in college.”

“Haven’t had sex since college?”

She corrected, “I didn’t mean that either.”

“So what did you mean?”

“This conversation is like pulling teeth.”

“Why? You want me to fuck you hard against this floor right now, baby?” you asked. The very crudeness of your words, albeit teasing, made Wanda’s breath hitch, and so within that reaction you found her first tell. “No foreplay or anything?”

“This isn’t foreplay?”

“Hardly.”

“Then what is?” she asked though sounding slightly pouty about it. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all turned on and impatient from just that. Teasing gets you off?” you pressed. “Didn’t even have to be told how I wanna see your gorgeous ass bruise when I fuck your cunt from behind like you’re my sick little fucktoy whore?”

Her hips twitched. 

“Y/N…” she muttered, perhaps out of impatience or forewarning for how you were teasing her, either way you could not tell and weren’t very rushed in trying to figure it out. 

You pulled her bra down and released one of her breasts, slapping it lightly with your fingers and causing her to gasp before pinching one of her sensitive pink buds. 

There would be no indulging her past what you were willing to indulge; you were careful not to touch her more than what was intentional. 

You bucked your hips up under the guise of adjusting your seating, grinding your stiff cock against the soaking panties which were now beginning to soak your pants. 

Her cunt was sensitive beyond the thin fabric, causing the strap to rub her perfectly through her soft, swollen folds; you could practically hear how sticky she was without even looking. 

“What is that?” she quickly asked, looking down between her thighs. She tried moving back to get a better look, but you quickly held onto her hip with your other hand and pulled her harshly back to her original position, making her throbbing clit rub directly onto your cock. 

A strangled yelp was breathed past her lips. 

“Don’t move unless I tell you to, you understand?” you told her. 

She nodded.

“Everywhere else in this building, there is only one God, but here in this room, I am yours. You will listen to what I tell you and take what I give you, even if it hurts. You’ll be grateful that I make you hurt as much as you will when I give you pleasure.”

In spite of everything, Wanda repressed a tiny smile and said, “You’re scary when you’re authoritative with me.”

You laughed through your nose and replied, “I can get scarier.”

Her smile widened into a grin and Wanda’s hand came to the back of your neck when you leaned forward and kissed her, one arm circling around her waist and carefully slipping her off your lap as you stood from your seat. 

“We’ll get caught,” she voiced concern against your lips.

“Then be the lookout.” 

You made sure she didn’t trip on her way up to the podium, and soon you had her chest laid flat against the lectern and facing the front doors, the shadow of the large crucifix behind the both of you casted against the red carpet from the morning sun shining from behind the stained glass. 

Wanda listened as you unzipped your pants and when she made an attempt to turn her head and look at what you were doing, you put your other hand against her upper back and pressed her back down, reducing her line of sight to your face and shoulder and nothing else. 

Her clothed cunt was prodded at, the stiff tip of your strap finding her hole through her panties and nudging at it teasingly. She groaned impatiently and reached back to take hold of your hand, to grab onto anything and urge you forward.

In response, you spanked her harshly and made Wanda yelp out in surprise and wince.

“You dirty, impatient slut,” you spat.

She immediately whimpered, “I’m sorry, daddy.”

That satisfied something in you that you hadn’t even known you wanted, and you were more than happy to share in that satisfaction.

You hummed and tucked a finger under the waistband of Wanda’s panties, making her twitch impatiently while also doing her best to listen to her orders. Then you laid your hand flat against her lower back, rubbing her supportively and making a warm flush form across her face.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Wanda?” you asked, looking up her bent-over half-naked body to the back of her head.

She nodded.

“Good girl,” she confirmed with a nod.

Gently, you squeezed her ass and danced your fingers up to the waistband of her panties that you finally pulled down, exposing her gorgeous, glistening cunt.

It took just as much resistance from you not to shove your cock right into her as much as it took Wanda to not thrust her hips back and grind her clit against your strap.

“Why don’t you tell me all you’ve been studying about the last little while?” you said, running a hand down her ass and sliding a thumb into her pussy, feeling heaps of pride with the way you slipped inside with no resistance. 

She was incredibly wet and so, so warm.

Distracted by the way your thumb probed shallowly at her hole, giving her just enough pleasure to make her throb but just short of enough to satisfy her entirely, it took Wanda a few moments to regain her focus before she finally asked, “S-Studying? About what?”

“You’re a smart girl, Wanda,” you encouraged, slowly sliding your thumb out and grazing the pad of it lightly over her swollen slit and across the hood of her clit. “Methods on how to be a proper nun. For example, swear yourself to the Lord, abstain from sex, so on and so forth.”

Wanda swallowed and tried her best to focus with the way your thumb began spreading her cunt out, revealing to you the glistening folds of her pussy. She began stuttering and finally squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to be able to recall some of her studies.

“Um, there was…” she uttered and ran her fingers along the edge of the wooden lectern, “living in modesty; not showing off one’s body in any crude manner, not partaking in pleasures of the flesh.”

Three of your fingers began rubbing slow circles against Wanda’s hole, squelching against her dripping cunt and making her tremble and moan shakily.

“And what next?” you asked.

“I-I can’t… Can’t focus…” she told you helplessly.

Your thumb flicked at her clit and Wanda’s body jerked forward. 

“One more,” you urged. “Come on. Give me one more good one and I’ll fuck you with my cock. You want that, don’t you?”

Intentionally, you began to focus on her clit now, having your index finger graze it as your middle and ring finger slowly began delving in and out of her sticky hole, purposefully making it even more difficult for Wanda to find the words for herself.

“I want… I want that,” she shuddered, hanging her head and squeezed her eyes shut again.

“So, then, give me one more.”

Wanda’s breathing deepened as she tried her hardest to focus. 

With every intention to make it more difficult for her, you reached up with your other hand and pulled her bra down, allowing you access to knead her breast and feel her nipple harden against the palm of your hand.

She whimpered into her arm and bit down on her bottom lip.

You stepped forward and removed your fingers from her cunt to rub the length of your strap through her pussy, wet fingers taking hold of its base and running it through her swollen folds.

“A-Ah, Y/N, please…” she mewled, though neither of you were quite sure whether she was begging for you to stop and allow her to think thoroughly or for you to have mercy on her completely and just fuck her.

“One more,” you reiterated and aligned the tip of your cock with her entrance. 

You placed both hands on her hips and began pulling her backwards, fucking her shallowly and watching her pussy take your cock with just as much anticipation as Wanda was struggling to withhold.

She hugged around you beautifully and it was truly only the tip; you couldn’t wait another moment to fuck her until she was begging for you to fuck her until it hurt.

“A-Another,” she finally trembled out, “is to be, by nature, a woman of submission, to worship your God and seek no amount of personal domination over–”

Fully satisfied with her answer and terribly impatient yourself, your fingernails dug into Wanda’s hips and you jerked her ass back against you, forcing her to take your entire cock in one swift movement.

She cried out and you wrapped a hand around her waist, running your nails down her side and feeling an inexplicable need to mark her, to cause her pain, to reduce her to a whimpering trembling, bruised mess so cock-drunk that all she’d feel for the next three days is the aftermath of being rough-fucked like a slut.

“Hit me, please, daddy,” she begged, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the lectern and arching her back.

So you did — repeatedly. 

You spanked Wanda over and over, having the sound of your palm meeting her ass echo through the room and only reiterating to the both of you how she was much less of a nun or a student or any reflection of purity, but a braindead nympho whore good for nothing but getting her pussy fucked raw.

She was a loud fuck, crying out in whimpers and moans and other strings of partially-comprehensible words telling you how good your cock felt and how much she loved getting fucked by you.

The playing organs and belting choir playing during the service muffled Wanda out, but Jesus Christ, if any of them out there had been able to hear her getting fucked down the hallway, they might just think for a moment that it was the calling of an angel or at least something in some way divine.

But none of them would ever know what it looked like to fuck Wanda from behind, pulling her up with their hand around her neck so you had access to slap her face and spit into her mouth like you could, pinching her clit and fucking her through to her third orgasm.

How beautiful she looked, sweaty and a mess with her long brown hair fanned out and stuck in strands against her back, crying out in equal parts pain and pleasure and finding herself incredibly pleased by being used like a filthy object.

And you’d make sure no one else could get the chance to see the sight but you.

“I’m gonna come again, Y/N,” she cried, breasts pressed against the cold wood of the lectern and arms pressed against her back. “This is my last, please, I can’t take anymore.”

You let go of her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the lectern. She was arched at a slight angle so your arm could assist in continuing to fuck her, but she was now much closer, and she was now able to loll her head back against your shoulder.

“This is the closest thing a slut like you will ever get to heaven, angel,” you told her, kissing her temple. “Make your God proud and come on my cock, filthy whore.”

Wanda reached back and held onto you for support while her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parting as a silent cry escaped her, her third and final orgasm coming over her without mercy.

You squeezed at her breast and leaned your head down and bit at her shoulder and up the back of her neck, getting in as many markings of your ownership as you could.

She sighed out and uttered your name, to which you ran your hands up her stomach, one hand moving up to her face and gently tilting her head over so you could kiss her lips.

Her knees buckled out and you carefully set her down on the floor before sitting down beside her. Wanda panted heavily into your chest, one hand on your knee and the other arm wrapped around your shoulder. 

You had your arms around her waist, rubbing her back supportively and whispering in her ear words upon words of how beautiful she looked, how good she’d been for you, then soon confessing how much you’d been thinking of her over the last few weeks, how much of your mind she occupied and how much of your time you spent thinking of her.

Wanda liked hearing that last part most, but she particularly enjoyed when you told her how it felt to masturbate to her, to imagine her looking up at you and choking on your cock at your final point of release, and how really being with her was plenty more enjoyable and, quite frankly, more beautiful than you ever could’ve fantasised about on your own. 

The both of you were on your knees, sweaty with the labour of sex and kneeling in each other’s arms at the foot of the towering crucifix, whispering and giggling to each other all the equally sweet and dirty confessions you could exchange before the service was over.

[spookysteddie]

Cover Girl

modern!rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!reader

cw: public nudity, topless photoshoot, album covers, implied smut at the end, pet names.

wc: 1.5k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this little one shot! The aesthetic for this is very much 'Ethel Cain' (sorry not sorry) and the 70s style wood paneling even though that has like very little to do with the fic? Anyway, I enjoyed writing this!!

...

You’ve done a lot of photoshoots in your life. Some for magazines, some for your social media, some for brands. So many that, at this point, you shouldn’t be this nervous. 

This photoshoot is different. 

This photoshoot is for Corroded Coffins album. The cover of the album to be exact, so you’re practically shitting yourself as your team finishes your makeup. Your team thought this would be an incredible opportunity and the rest of the band was more than excited. According to Eddie, it was their idea and they practically begged him to agree to it. 

“Are you excited?” Your hair stylist asks you and she fixes your hair. It’s supposed to be… effortlessly messy. There is a very high chance no one will even see your hair but better to be safe than sorry. 

You smile at her through the mirror, being careful not to disturb your makeup artist, “yes and no. We haven’t been together long so I’m just scared.” 

Which was true. 

You had this weird fear that if you and Eddie broke up during this albums era, it would be the end of your career. Your therapist, of course, reminded you how harmful that mindset could be. You agreed but it didn’t mean it didn’t chew at the back of your mind. The chances of that happening were extremely low, but there was still a chance. Then your voice is immortalized on his album along with your body and face on his album covers. 

Eddie, to his credit, had reassured you that he didn’t care. Well, not that he didn’t care, he cares about you and your feelings. But the point is that, in his own words, even if you two didn't work out, it would be a reminder of you and, allegedly, he wants to remember you for the rest of his life. It calmed your fears slightly. 

Your hairstylist finishes, spraying your hair with hairspray, “well, I think you’re the perfect fit for this cover. You are so beautiful that no one would ever regret putting you on their cover art.” 

You smile, your throat getting a little tight at her words. “Thank you. Means a lot.” 

… 

You’re in little more than a pair of blue jeans, inside a house that looks like it’s stuck in the 70s. You haven’t seen carpet like this in a very long time. It makes you laugh a little, remembering your best friends house, her parents refused to upgrade it even though they totally could’ve. 

You hold a rob to your chest, leaving your back exposed but keeping your chest covered for now. Eddie smiles when he sees you, “well don’t you look pretty.” 

You feel your face and body go warm, “you’re sweet.” 

He kisses your forehead, more than knowing that your makeup artist will beat his ass for ruining your lipstick. “I mean it.” 

You smile shyly, shaking your head a little. You know he means it but no man has ever made you feel as wanted and appreciated as Eddie does. He tells you how pretty you are at least three times a day and he always makes sure to kiss you goodnight. 

Needless to say, he was perfection in a human being. 

“How do you want me?” You look up at him with big eyes, eyes that make his cock twitch in his pants. He needs to give your hair and makeup team a very large bonus because you look ever more fuckable than you typically do. 

Eddie hands you his precious guitar, his baby. His hands shake slightly and you can tell he’s a little nervous of letting anyone but him handle this instrument. And he is nervous. This guitar has been with him through all the ups and downs of his life. 

From leaving Hawkins to signing his first record deal, that guitar has been there. It’s a reminder of where he’s been and where he’s going. Is it super easy to break guitars? No. If you happen to drop it the worst that might happen is a scratch, maybe a dent. 

But you knew better than that. You reach out, gripping the neck of the guitar tightly, Eddie also holding on. You drop the robe, previously agreeing to being topless but covered by the guitar. You put the strap over your shoulder, only letting the robe go when you have the guitar covering you. 

Eddie let's go and you can tell he’s trying really hard to not look at your chest, to not make you uncomfortable in front of everyone. You’re more than comfortable with your nudity, especially around Eddie, but you appreciate the respect. 

You grin up at him, “again, how do you want me?” You bat your lashes at him as you ask. 

He takes a shuddering breath, “we-we were thinking of having you lay down, knees under you with the guitar covering your c-chest.” Eddie swallows, letting his eyes dip to your chest for only a moment before meeting your eyes again. 

You lean up, kissing him sweetly, “absolutely baby.” 

You head to the middle of the room, being careful not to flash everyone as you get to your knees. “Should we start with a few of me just on my knees?” You give Eddie big bedroom eyes as you ask. 

He shifts foot to foot before the photographer answers, “actually that might be a good idea! Give us some options just in case.” 

You smile and pose, making sure the guitar is covering your tits correctly. The camera flashes and you blink a little, trying to wipe away the new, green specks in front of your face. But you pull it together, moving and posing in all the ways you could. 

“Okay, now lay back and keep your legs under you.” 

You lay back, settling yourself on the scratchy carpet and letting your hair lay around you like a halo. You let your hand curl around the neck and the other resting on the body. The strap covers your breast, the body covering the other one. 

If you asked Eddie, you looked like a fucking angel. Like a little rock goddess. Eddie hasn’t ever felt this way about anyone ever. He think you’re the most beautiful woman to ever exist, not to mention so fucking kind to every single person you ever come in contact with. Eddie wishes he could be more like you in that sense. 

Isn’t there a saying that's like ‘opposites attract’? That’s what you and Eddie are, opposites, but it works more than he wanted to admit. Sure, deep down he has this horrible fear he’s going to fuck it up. He knows he probably should give you more credit than he is, but he’s terrified that one wrong move and that is it. It’s how it usually went with the girls he dates. 

But he knew you weren’t usual. In the good way of course. Eddie doesn’t really know why he knows, but he does. He knows the feelings he has for you run deep and ever since the string theory got brought up, he’s been feeling the tug more. It’s an emotion he doesn’t want to (and can’t) name. Eddie feels it’s just slightly too early and again he doesn’t want to scare you. 

The photographer snaps photos of you from all angles, making sure to give the guys and Eddie plenty of options for the cover. They’d wanted the album cover to be simple and had confessed to Eddie that they thought you’d be perfect. They may or may not have confessed that they enjoy having you around and that they think you’re good for Eddie. 

“Okay! We’re done! Great job Miss. Asher, you were beautiful as ever.” Eddie watches you smile, gripping the neck of the guitar so you don’t somehow drop it. 

Eddie puts you out of your misery, handing you your robe and covering you so you can take the guitar off and slip the robe on. Once it’s settled around your shoulders he kisses the side of your head.

…

The photos and mock up of the cover come back a few weeks later. They’d all chosen the one of you on the floor, back arched slightly and not looking at the camera. You don’t know what filters they used but the photo looks old school. It looks like they took it on a disposable camera and you couldn’t love it anymore. 

Eddie’s eyes get wide when he sees the finished product. 

“God… this is so perfect.” He whispers it and you know he didn’t mean for you to hear it. But it’s sweet regardless. 

You zoom in just a little, “god this is such a vibe and I am obsessed.” 

He looks over, a big, beautiful grin on his face, “I’m glad you like it too. And um… thank you for all your help with this album.” 

You smile softly, kissing him, “of course. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.” 

He kisses you deeply, laying you back on the bed. 

“Let me really thank you, yeah?” 

You swallow, nodding, “I would love that. Always love the way you thank me.” 

Eddie smirks, ducking below the covers and worshiping you till you can’t take it anymore. 

[yurinaa-world]

I see your requests are open so give me a chance!

Can you please do something like Jiaoqiu,Moze,Aventurine and Jing yuan with a Kyouka like (From bsd)reader?

Pls...

"𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jiaoqiu, Moze, Aventurine & Jing yuan x Gender-neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's like Kyouka

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I'll always give you a chance anon!

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

He’s always chided you about those minor injuries you show up with, even if it may be a scratch on your skin, it can get worse, and he rather do anything in his power to make a simple scratch on your skin disappear, as if wasn’t there at all.

Now, no different than before, he even force feeds so you regain all your strength even when you decline his offer, he still won’t take no for it, not one single excuse either! Why must he love someone who so willing to throw theirlife away?! Very iconic...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You don’t have to do this...” you say blankly, staring at the bowl of food he’s made for you. You’re grateful about everything, better than when he was freaking out over the copious amounts of blood on your body and clothes, most of which wasn’t even yours, to begin with, just minor scratches here and there (not even caused by anyone, just by your carelessness).

Forcing you into a shower immediately to get the scent of death off of your body with a nice hot shower, before fixing your injuries (just a couple of bandaids here and there, nothing big as he makes his reaction out to be). 

Now you can hear the emotion in his sigh as he makes something extra for you to eat. “It’s almost like you’re living to starve yourself,” He worried, stirring the pot gently, you can’t help but feel guilty about how he’s feeling, guilty and torn about how worried he is about you.

Take a large spoonful of food from the bowl to at least give a try to whatever he’s made for you and it’s truly not so bad, taking more and more spoonfuls as the flavour of the food gets better.“It’s really good” You smiled, making him so joyful, seeing you give the food a chance and like it. 

“Isn’t it better than starving yourself?”

💫𝑀𝑜𝓏𝑒 “𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔”

You both are quiet, silent love is what you both share. He can’t help but take your hand and kiss the top of your knuckles without any hesitation or fluster in his eyes as he gazes into your own. He has no fear of directly showing his love before leaving for the day.

He knows everything, even when you secretly glance at desserts displayed outside a bakery, maybe taking more of a glance—which never goes unnoticed by him, you have such a sweet tooth it’s obvious.

Every day he brings you that cake you’ve always been looking at, just seeing that happy expression on your face when you see the cake in his hands always makes him go soft for you. (It might just be his way to avoid you noticing his injuries).

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“You can put the knife away.”

He held your wrist firmly, just so that knife in your hand wouldn’t stab him in the face from your reflexes—he really shouldn’t set your reflexes off with his silent footsteps—your ears were made to hear even the sound of pen dropping—he might just be asking for a death wish. 

Seeing your eyes go from murderous into soft ones as you sigh, realizing it’s him, prompts him to let go of your wrist, and watches you put down that dull kitchen knife.

“You should be more careful, I could’ve killed you.” You chided. No doubt that you could leave a deadly injury even when that dull knife is in your hands—even the dullest of objects you could make into the sharpest of weapons.

“I got you a gift.”

Revealing his other hand to a boxed-up cake from that new bakery that opened up in the Xianzhou Yaoqing you’ve been interested in—shocking he even noticed that quickly, you didn’t even mention it to him. Seeing your expression light up as if you were a kid receiving a huge gift, even holding the boxed-up cake like a kid.

“Thank you. Let me cut this properly so we eat this together” You smile brightly, ear to ear, watching you skip to the kitchen.

 He was glad you were happy with this gift, and he couldn’t allow your happiness to be ruined by a foolish injury of his—a worried expression if you had noticed his arm bleeding through his previous bandages—trying to quickly bandage a new wound on his arm before meeting you in the kitchen.

He can’t help but wrap his arms around you while you just get a spoon and eat right from the cake instead of cutting it—it looked too good!—“It’s so good,” You mutter, before taking another spoonful of that soft dessert.

“Thank you, Moze.”

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

Your little obsession with little trinkets, makes him laugh whenever you stop in your tracks in the middle of the sidewalk just to look at the little fragile trinket displayed behind a window. Your eyes light immediately, which prompts him to take you into the shop, so you can buy something (even if you refuse).

He could buy you the entire trinket shop if you truly wanted, yet it’s quite fun following you around while you stop to pick the little trinket in your hand, holding it in your palms like it were an animal.

Showing him the little thing and asking him what he thought of it, before quickly moving on to see a different part of the store like a needy child with a craze to see anything. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I could just buy you the entire shop.”

His words just went one ear and out the other—you disliked too much of his spoiling, it made you lose yourself, in case you needed to protect him, one it enough for you—while you stayed crouched down looking at a little bunny trinket on the bottom shelf. Which just boosts his grin, watching you pop back up with the little thing in your palms as if it were alive.

“Doesn’t it look so cute?” A pretty smile accompanied by a happy tone of voice makes him weak for you—irresistible as always—and he just goes soft. “It does look cute, yet it seems like it's missing something,” he smiles before giving you a confused look, the thumb on his chin just puts the whole act together. 

“What’s missing?”

“Its lover, of course.” Saying like it's fact, which causes the light bulb in your head to shine brightly, before looking back at the shelf to look for another trinket that matches. He can’t help but to one out for you to match with, a little dolphin with a smiley face. 

“How about this one?” 

“It matches perfectly!” 

“But…” He seems to get more confused.

“But?” 

Forgive him for taking a little advantage of you, watching you lean in closer with your whole body. “Her friends are missing.” Was This his way of making you spend more, maybe? Not as if you're declining, so it’s a win-win in his books.

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

He’s quite the lover, dozing off whenever he can, which just leaves you to gently wake him up and take him back to bed so he doesn’t catch a cold. 

When you drag him back to bed just to be faced with no pillows, ah…how could this have happened…(orchestrated by a certain general, of course)..there’s nothing you could find which just leads you to lay him on your lap so he doesn’t hurt his neck without having anything under his head.

It was an enjoyable feeling when he feels his head on your lap as he wakes up from his slumber, he might just dig his face more into your lap. A general abusing his knowledge to have you to himself, not the first or last.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Gently caressing his hair while a peaceful expression was spread upon his face, known to you, Jing Yuan was half awake just enjoying the amazing feeling—it was too good to let his tired body let go of—he forced himself to stay up, only to be caught by his selfish desire to want more before slumber gets to him.

“Is this comfortable for you?” You whisper, leaning down to caress his cheek with your hand, his lidded eyes staring back at you—as if it were a scene out of a romance novel. “More than comfortable.” He yawned, before digging the side of his face into your thigh as much as he could.

“Jing Yuan.”

A worrisome expression spreads on your face, prompts him to grab your hand and lean more into your touch—he’ll any type of physical affection he can get from you. “You shouldn’t be sleeping outside so leisurely, there might be assassins or spies who would take their chance.” You fretted, while he didn’t seem to take words only enjoying the feeling that he’s waited for.

“You worry too much, soon the hairs on your head might turn gray,” he hummed, such worrier you are, yet any man wishes to have such caring lovers as someone like you. He doesn’t want that worried look on your face to stay present for long, he gently moves your hand until your fingertips are on his lips, pressing a kiss on those precious hands of yours. 

“I'm only teasing, I’ll be fine.”

[prinzrupprecht]

Asking them if you’re their type

Featuring: Susano’o, Loki, Qin, and Apollo ( part 1 )

Ight new series! And yes, established relationship.

Part 2.

Warnings? Mostly fluff.

Susano’o

Being the wife of the sword god, you must’ve impressed him somehow. Well, you were yet you were having doubts about why he asked for your hand in marriage of all the women he could’ve wanted.

You were an ordinary fighter. You used the legendary Kusanagi no Tsurugi sword and created new wind-style techniques. While Susano’o used the Totsuka-no-Tsurugi. Was it by luck you had created such a fine blade? Susano’o had spotted you training one day and was acting crazy over your techniques.

He begged you to teach him your kenjutsu techniques that you’ve learnt from humans. In a way, you liked how he was super fun to be around with until he told everyone from the Shinto pantheon that you were his wife. It was supposed to be a secret to keep quiet. Amaterasu? You were certain she wanted to kill you. However, you were a female sword goddess like Susano’o except you weren’t for the seas and storms. You represented warm breezes and spring. They found you as the perfect match for him.

“Oh no, he’s gone somewhere again…” you mumbled looking ahead over the hill but Susano’o was already fighting in a new battle showing off his sword skills.

“You see that! It barely scratched me,” Susano’o was enthusiastic despite all the humans that watched him kill such a beast to save them. He was dressed and disguised differently when he was around them. You haven’t been a saviour to anyone unlike him. Your insecurities were eating at you more. Were you really supposed to be his wife? On a good note, he had no interest in other women or wanted to take on concubines or a second wife.

You two walked towards your small lodge home in the Honshu region. Susano’o always changes back to his normal form and appearance when he’s alone with you or those who were considered his family from the Shinto Temple. It’s very rare he would socialize with humans and it’s against the rules for you and him to actually talk to humans.

He was very affectionate, but mostly it’s him holding you in his lap and talking in your ear about his passions with the sword. You loved listening to him and falling asleep soundlessly on him. You always woke up being suffocated by his big arms holding you in place.

As the two of you returned, you turned to your loving husband and asked him the question that had been bothering you. “Susano’o-san, why did you ask me to be your wife? Am I really your type? Sometimes it feels like our personalities are different,” you felt a sting of embarrassment stir in your lower abdomen waiting for him to answer.

His face turned serious as he stopped what he was doing— sharpening his sword as soon as you two returned. His mouth gaped and you stood frozen a few feet away from him. “I never felt more like myself around someone who understands me. What’s better than not having the sword goddess with the sword god? So of course, you’re my type in every way possible!” One of his hands cupped one side of your cheek.

“What if I said no to your proposal?” You were acting innocent and he gave you a puzzled stare.

“I don’t think I would’ve taken no for an answer,” his response made your heart beat faster as he wrapped his arms around your body.

Loki

You loved him; everything about him. Even accepting his weird side. Was it normal? No. He used to tell you he had a massive crush on Brunhilde before you came along and cured him. Massive? Why would he tell you that? Loki normally wasn’t honest about such things regarding his feelings. You had wondered if he was toying with you once again.

You weren’t a goddess of trickery so you had no idea how you made him move on and treat you as his woman. You have always liked him since childhood. Yet, it turns out he had a thing for the Valkyrie woman and you never knew about it. A part of you was happy he had used you as a stepping stone to move on from Brunhilde— someone who would’ve never liked him back. You wanted to believe you weren’t a rebound, but the doubts were still there. He doesn’t mention her and only pays attention to you mostly.

He even gets jealous of other men who were guards of Asgard that compliment you. You wondered what made him like you. You weren’t anything like Brunhilde at all. She was brave and cold towards others. You were quiet, shy and very observant of your surroundings.

You were fixing up one of the gowns Loki had gotten you. It had a bad tear in it and you wanted to fix it up and wear it for him. You were using a sewing machine before Loki barged into your room. “Where were you? Thor said you didn’t appear at the main hall to greet some of our guests.” Loki saw you holding the gown in your hands. It was all torn up and you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“What happened? I’ll get you anoth— actually, I’ll fix it.” Loki started to feel bad that the gown he got you had a tear in it, and you didn’t make an appearance with him to the meeting with some important gods of the pantheon.

“One of the cats got spooked when I entered my room and had accidentally ripped the dress a bit that was hung up while running out of the room. I wanted to fix it and wear it… for you.” You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. Loki was embarrassed realizing he was the cat and fell speechless for a moment. Why did you want to fix such a thing that he found in the commoner’s section of the palace? He didn’t want to tell you that but a deep part of him felt saddened you were going through such lengths for this dress he got you.

“Why not wear something else?” He grabbed your hands but you shook your head. Loki was puzzled for a moment but he knew he wouldn’t be able to change your mind.

He grabbed one of the needles and attached the string to it. He was using magic to sew it up quicker than the machine.

“Done. Are you happy?”

“One more thing before I put it on and be yours for the night.” You nodded. Weren’t you already his? Loki had thought but didn’t say anything.

“Am I really your type? Like wouldn’t everyone there find me… too different to be with you?” You brought the dress up to your face to cover your embarrassment.

“I wouldn’t be going to such extreme lengths to keep you with me if I didn’t like you. I’d prefer you like this and not anything like me. Now, put this on and it’s not for one night. You mean more than that to me,” he lifted your chin up with his index finger.

You nodded gleefully and happy with his answer. You were certain he was telling the truth.

Qin Shi Huang

You were his empress, named and married to him. Despite his reluctance in wanting to marry anyone before he met you— a hard-headed woman who didn’t want any man to sway you. You fought against his army to survive. He was conquering lands and is the emperor and king of the Qin dynasty period of China.

You couldn’t tolerate him in the beginning. He liked ruling and ordering people around. However, you didn’t care who he was. Royal or commoner, everyone was the same to you. Zheng saw you as someone he wanted and desired. It felt impossible for him to obtain despite your reluctance and hard-headed nature.

“I heard you were giving the maids a bit of a hard time earlier,” Zheng walked into your shared room with a curious look on his face despite the blindfold. He was right but also had it wrong. You overheard them talking about how they wanted to be his mistress despite he was yours. It’s not uncommon for imperial rulers to have multiple wives, consorts or mistresses when the man is bored. You had torn down Zheng’s proposals to be his woman many times. He still never gave up but something in you snapped at those maids.

Chasing a man who is already married? How disrespectful. “Sorry for my behaviour, they said some things I didn’t like.” You muttered before turning your head away from him in embarrassment. You were trying to conceal your face from him.

“They upset you? Shall I have them punished—"

“N–No, not at all!” Your voice must’ve squeaked when he suggested punishment. Qin was oblivious to what others felt about him, but his eyes were only glued to you.

Qin walked towards you before forcing your face to look up to him. He took his blindfold off since you two were alone. He was going to speak once again to not let others get to you.

Your insecurities have been eating at you lately and you spoke before he did. “Zheng… am I really your type?” You were flustered but he was not.

“Ha, what? My type? What does that suppose to mean? I just like what I see and if I want something, I’ll do whatever in my power to achieve that. Is that a perfect answer for you, my empress?” He leaned in to call you his empress. Your heart must’ve jumped to your throat. You had no idea what to say to that. He wanted you for a long time and now he has you?

You were satisfied and sighed showing how weak you were in front of him. Only he was able to get you this flustered and feeling vulnerable around him. He loved it and loved making you a mess during private times.

Apollo

Being the wife of Apollo came with a lot of work. Previously you were just a lower-ranked deity of the Greek pantheon that served the Olympus Palace. Apollo didn’t care that much about your existence in the beginning, but it bothered him that you weren’t into him or swayed by his beauty. It dented his ego and turned him into someone who chased you and not the other way around.

Oh, how you miss the old days of being someone who wasn’t very important to anyone. You were quiet, shy and liked to read on your own without being bothered. You were a deity of knowledge and wisdom. You liked history and watching over humanity to learn about their existence. Your whole purpose was to learn and expand your knowledge. Why or how did Apollo come to like you? It was a mystery to you.

You hated the women he used to surround himself with constantly. Not because you were jealous, they were constantly fawning over him and melting in the halls in his presence. It made you uncomfortable how they talked about him a lot when all you cared about was the library and archives. You never cared about getting to know the other gods at the Olympus palace, but maybe because of how different you were made the sun god fall for you.

Apollo had followed you into the archives numerous times considering he was also the God of Philosophy and wanted to get to know the woman obsessed with knowledge. Was he that fascinated with you? He would comment about how your beauty exceeds others and had asked for your hand in marriage. You told him no unless you were the only one which you had hoped he’d leave and decline your request. However, he accepted it. Were you surprised? Yes. He had to give up some part of him just so he could have you to himself. He hasn’t touched any other woman other than you since.

This brought you to wonder why you? Were you his type? What even is his type? He always told others you were his wife. It’s been several years since then. You had lost count. He was busy with many things regarding the Greek pantheon. Whenever Zeus asked him to do something, he was quick to his feet to do it.

You loved him and it took time to realize it. Apollo was deeply in love with everything about you in the beginning. You were sitting alone while reading in the library thinking about your husband. “Why are you still here? It’s late.” You heard Apollo’s voice near the entrance of the room from behind. Oh, it was late? You didn’t say much but closed the book and smiled. Immediately Apollo knew something was wrong and walked over to you to see what you were doing. He picked up one of the books that were lying in front of you on your desk. Romance novels? You never read fiction. You always preferred research.

“I didn’t take you for being into this sort of thing?” he placed the book back down on the desk. You weren’t embarrassed in all honestly. He was someone that was easy to open up to.

“I’m just curious, humans that have written these books over the years must’ve experienced or strongly desire the connection with someone… am I someone you wanted that connection with? Sometimes I feel like… I’m not your type.” Your question made Apollo reach for your hands and hold them.

He hummed, “there’s no such thing as being my type. My type is someone who I deem worthy of my love. What a rhetorical thing to ask, but I can’t deny the connection I felt for you, in the beginning, was something more deep than a simple desire. Did I want you? You already know the answer to that but since you like the comfort of hearing it from me, then yes, I was very interested in you from the start.” His response had you feeling weak for him more.

“Let’s head to bed, or do you want me to keep you awake?” He leaned in your ear as one hand cupped your left cheek.

You weren’t going to get much sleep that night and you were right.

Note: part 2 has no ETA release date. May take a day break unless I get a request that piques my interest.

[starlightseraph]

finished dead boy detectives!!! (spoilers ahead!)

quick disclaimer: i haven’t gotten around to the comics yet but i’ve been very interested since the sandman came out and i do plan on reading them eventually lol.

- edwin is my new blorbo cutie and i too would go to hell for him. also, his style is immaculate, exactly how i want to dress all the time.

- i am SO sad about niko. but i’m glad that it seems like she’s not totally gone? i hope she’s not an antagonist in the next series (the ending was a touch ominous), but i’ll honestly be happy either way. it’s so rare to find good western-japanese characters. it made me incredibly happy when she switched into a japanese accent when saying “osaka” because it’s something i recognise in my family and in me. i know people from lots of different backgrounds do that with words from their own languages, but i’d never seen a japanese character do it before so i was very tickled.

- charles. man. please fall in love with edwin. how tf are you quite literally dragging him out of hell and he confesses to you and you look him in the eyes and say that you love him but you’re not in love with him. i mean that’s the best possible way he could’ve gone about it, but if i were edwin i might just have gone back down to the doll face spider thing.

- i hope that crystal’s past doesn’t land her in jail or anything. i really like her dynamic with the others but i’m not sold on her and charles romantically, mostly because edwin is so fucking sweet and i don’t want his heart to be broken. he’ll be happy if charles is happy, but i cannot stand see him get hurt even the tiniest bit.

- jenny is amazing. she’s literally me fr. also i love how she just hands people cleavers.

- i found the night nurse’s breakdown when she was in angie’s stomach very relatable. i feel like that a lot lmao. and i love her accent. i will go to bat for my own weird ass culchie irish/valley girl hybrid, but if had to pick another accent…

- i need a wise and eternal south asian man to talk me down from the ledge. it’s almost finals week and a ring from kashina would be a big help.

- tragic mick (top tier wordplay name) is a sweetheart and i hope he gets to be a walrus again eventually. my first reaction when i saw the cat king was “oh my god, it’s the piss kink guy from You!” but that aside, he was ok in the end. so was monty. i hope the night nurse can help crystal drag david the demon back down to hell.

[jockbroski34]

How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan.  We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school.  I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans.  Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore.  And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with.  I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend.  On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him.  It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life.  For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left.  I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests.  I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan.  I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework.  I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student.  I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings.  I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?”  the giant asked.  The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different.  I took a closer look at him.  “Long time no see, huh?”  I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate?  Woah, what happened to you?”  I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend.  This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation.  He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches.  He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see.  The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric.  He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms.  I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me.  But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to.  A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them.  Sigma Lambda Chi…  Had Nathan really joined a frat?  To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?”  James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms.  He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice.  I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot.  Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him.  I was gay.  To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship.  But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all.  Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately.  I’m glad you noticed.”  He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body.  His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine.  A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn!  You look great, dude!”  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again.  On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this.  On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys.  It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro?  I know I’ve been busy a lot lately.  Sorry about that, dude.”  We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to.  Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more.  He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal.  That lifestyle just isn’t for me.  He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school.  I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself.  Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate!  Finally found you.  You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude.  And who’s this dude?”  The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro.  Brett, this is James.  We go way back.  James, this is Brett.  He’s my roommate.  We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,”  Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me.  He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time.  “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro.  I just ran into him and we were catching up.”  Nathan responded.  “Hey, I gotta get going.  We should get food sometime.  Peace!”  I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym.  As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something.  This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for?  I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick.  I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him.  As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat.  I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time.  I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once.  He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from.  For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way.  I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore.  It was like he was a completely different person.  He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore.  He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore.  All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night.  All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer.  It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight.  The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now.  The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier.  I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t.  Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked.  Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off.  He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright.  To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you.  I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person.  I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me.  I felt like we had a good time today.  I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now.  I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro.  You might be right though.  Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy?  You’re more than that.  You’re my best friend.  But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew.  It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying.  You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro?  The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this.  I guess I was right, bro.  But trust me, I’m happy like this.  I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too.  I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best.  To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding.  I could never picture myself joining a frat.  I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with.  I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me.  I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him.  I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying.  To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone.  It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back.  Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan.  I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym.  He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now.  If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite.  As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with.  It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind.  Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him.  I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on.  Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro?  One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone.  To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk?  There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now.  I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants.  I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment.  Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat.  When I asked, he didn’t specify what though.  It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?”  A mischievous grin appeared on his face.  Was he seriously offering me beer?  I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him.  Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks.  To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21.  Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us.  Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.”  Nate went to get two bottles for us.  I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it?  Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled.  “After a while, you get used to it.”  Nate turned the TV on as we chatted.  I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal.  I felt like I was a little too harsh on him.  It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago.  As we chatted, my body started to tingle.  Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate.  I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird.  Is this normal, bro?”  I asked.  By this point, we both had two drinks each.  I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.”  Nate responded, with a smile on his face.  Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober.  “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.”  I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body.  I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate.  Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead.  There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol.  As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt.  Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess.  You alright?  Do you wanna change your shirt?”  Nate asked.  I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me.  It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes.  “Sorry about that, bro.  First thing I found.  Hope it fits you.”  It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it.  I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff.  For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top.  I wondered how I would look dressed up like that.  I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him.  I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro.  The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me.  Still, it was better than nothing I guess.  Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though.  It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it.  He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered.  I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom.  My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier.  Workout…Was that what happened earlier?  …I think so?  Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis?  For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me.  I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual.  After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I didn’t always look that big, right?  From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks.  I had to have been really drunk at this point.  I chuckled at the figure in front of me.  At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros!  I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!”  he said as he squeezed my muscles.  I have been working out recently, I think.  “I thought you passed out in there.  Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James.  I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation.  Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place.  The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment.  I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join.  I needed to join more than anything else.  I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros.  At this point, nothing was too extreme for me.  The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to.  Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,”  my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could.  I had committed at this point.  No backing out now.  I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!”  He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close.  “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you.  Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something.  Did I actually agree to join his frat?  I’m not sure what’s going on with me today.  When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it.  “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it.  “We’re gonna be matching now, bro.  Isn’t that awesome?  I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever.  But you’re wearing it wrong.  Let me fix it for you, dude.”  He turned the brim around so it faced my back.  As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt.  I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest.  My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away.  Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me.  I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers.  Look like them, think like them, act like them.  Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro?  By this point, the changes were irreversible.  Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro.  You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt.  So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me.  I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro.  Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro.  It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge?  Huhuhu…”  I really had to think about that one.  I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak.  To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me.  He did what he had to as a member of the frat.  I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug.  We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle.  My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me.  Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi.  He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on.  He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow.  “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro.  I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch.  I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky.  Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight.  But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now.  I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit.  I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it.  It felt right to me.  It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down.  Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now.  It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge!  I looked awesome, bro.  As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh.  Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants.  Fuck, I was so horny for some reason.  Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes.  We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again.  “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over.  There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro.  I can take it,”  I responded confidently.  My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude.  I think I like you, bro.  Not like you, but I think I like like you.  I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me.  That’s why I had to make you a bro like me.  I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro.  And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool.  We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming.  First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me?  How crazier could this night get?  For all my life, I thought he was straight.  I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back.  I couldn’t stand her.  When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night.  To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too.  When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous.  I didn’t want to accept you for who you are.  But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.”  I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found.  It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most.  I felt like I was in heaven.  I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore.  I never did.  That shit was stupid anyways.  But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever.  I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?”  he whispered in my ear.  A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck.  This was real.  I nodded as he took me to his bed.  I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect.  He laid down on his back and stripped naked.  I never felt this aroused before.  My dick even looked bigger than it used to be.  I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months.  I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say.  I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now.  I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him.  In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome.  My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed.  My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s.  We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room.  The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder.  After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time.  I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs.  At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed.  We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.”  he whispered seductively as he kissed me.  We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate!  Did you do it?  How did it go?”  a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room.  I recognized the voice as Brett’s.  He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked.  To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out.  Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded.  He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro?  But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad.  I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes.  More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially.  Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded.  It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers.  I also learned how Nate met Brett.  He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat.  Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us.  Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat.  Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat.  They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen.  Not that either of us minded.  Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game.  Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become.  It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu.  I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too.  I even ended up changing my major.  I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore.  I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience.  I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside.  I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester.  We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent.  We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to.  College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again.  I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for putting a hit out on an ex friend’s dnd character?

A few years ago I [M 18] was the link between two different online friend circles along with my longtime friend A [M 22]. Essentially, both A and I ran two different dnd campaigns that acted as a melting pot between our two friend groups. It was really fun, super casual stuff. Enter C [M 19], who was originally one of my friends and played in both groups. Over time it became clear that C was, to put it lightly, not a great person. At the time, I was a really new DM and struggled a lot with my self confidence. C was a super disruptive player in my group, going off the rails and generally trying to undermine both me and other players. I tried to sort it out between sessions, but it didn’t end up working out. It came to a head where I ended up shutting down my campaign, claiming school got to be too much, but in reality I just couldn’t deal with C’s behaviour. It was a really big blow to my self confidence at the time.

At this point a lot of people had been cutting out C for various other things like this - generally being disrespectful and callous, not taking responsibility for harm he caused, etc. Pretty soon the only times I was interacting with C directly was during A’s campaign.

A, who wasn’t 100% aware of the situation, came and talked to me after a session one day about why I’d shut down my campaign, and I told him everything about how I was feeling. He was really understanding, and said that he got the feeling that I probably didn’t want C around anymore, and neither did he. I agreed, so A offered to ‘sort out some stuff with C’s character’ and shuffle him out of the group. I made a joke about wanting C’s character to die, in a pretty flippant way, and the conversation diverted.

This is where things get kind of weird.

So, at the time, I was expecting A to just talk with C and kick him out of the group in between sessions, but that didn’t end up happening. C was at the next session just as planned, and continued to show up for several weeks. During this time A, and I really don’t know how else to describe this, pulled some Machiavellian scheme on C’s character as the DM to ruin his life. A wove in this story where C’s character got this evil mask shard of a dead god, and played on C’s want to sabotage other players & go his own way in a very ‘lone rogue’ way to isolate him from the group and get him involved in all these evil deeds (killing minor npcs, etc). None of our characters knew about this in character, but A dropped all these hints and the context lined up to make it seem like C’s character was slowly going insane. C, unable to communicate in or out of character, backed up this idea by refusing to talk about the god IC or OOC. Eventually this god fragment lead to the death of C’s character when an overpowered assassin struck him down, in a fight that felt very ‘well this could’ve been a party boss but because you didn’t tell anyone, you died’. Immediately following this the party found out about C’s character’s evil deeds, meaning he wouldn’t be mourned by the party. The whole death felt so… hollow. It really felt like C had ended up in this situation because of their own hubris. But they hadn’t.

A had masterminded the whole thing. He’d given me live updates about his plan to essentially manufacture a situation where C’s character died a miserable death that felt totally deserved in the eyes of the other party members. And then we all just blocked C anyway???

I’ve never seen someone manipulate somebody like that in my life before and I’ve never seen anything like it again. I’ve never told anyone else in the group that the death was masterminded by A because of my petty grudge about my failed campaign. I don’t speak to either A or C now but I still feel bad about not doing something. Should I have just told A to kick C way before this?? I had no clue it would spiral into actual months of chess mastering his demise!!

What are these acronyms?

[camplease]

harrow grew in her emotional awareness of other people as people at an incredible rate during the events of gideon the ninth, a rate that honestly stretches the bounds of plausibility. and i think a lot of it, maybe even most of it, was specifically a reaction to an awareness of gideon, specifically, in genuine mortal danger that harrow had never previously considered

even before harrow was able to accept that she feels any affection for gideon, her covetousness of gideon's presence is evident. but, on drearburh, even though there might’ve conceivably been natural disasters outside of harrow's control that could’ve changed this, i think gideon’s survival of the child massacre made gideon seem like an almost supernaturally ever-present fixture of harrow’s universe. no matter how much gideon bled and broke in those 17 years, i don’t think harrow had truly considered the reality of gideon’s mortality before

when harrow thought of losing gideon, she thought of gideon escaping. prior to canaan house, though death involving those close to her was already something harrow knew intimately well, each example is inextricably connected to its specific context. with "the body," the cause of death didn't pose any immediate, direct threat to harrow or those she cared about. as horrific all of drearburh’s children’s deaths were, as heavily as they weighed on harrow, this was a part of her history rather than an imminent threat. and, as much grief and sorrow that the personal responsibility harrow felt for her parents’ suicides colored her existence, as much as she even once blamed gideon, ultimately, harrow's parents killed themselves. these were all so different by their very nature from the deaths at canaan house and the possibilities they illuminated. something or someone was maliciously seeking out those among her in the present. gideon's very existence could no longer be taken for granted, never mind simply losing possession of her

i believe that both accepting her own care for gideon and accepting the risk of losing gideon beyond losing control over her is what led harrow to assess the inherent harm and dehumanization of their power imbalance and to begin to understand the flaws in her worldview overall, the flaws in the system that granted her and others in power the power to abuse it at will and use those under them as tools

but the reason why i say this was a lot of/most of and not all of the reason for harrow's growth is because i think she always had some latent capacity for it that she'd just previously suppressed. and i don't think this is unique to harrow. i think the worst people within any system wear away at their humanity, and, thus, their ability to perceive the humanity of others and act accordingly, a bit at a time. but this process isn't irreversible. harrow's relation to gideon was just the catalyst for that reversal in her

i can’t say exactly who harrow would’ve become without gideon at canaan house with her for the lyctoral trials, but she would’ve certainly been very different from the person she is now

decided to make my own post because i was thinking about this poll way too much and it led me to a big enough tangent that it's its own creature at this point, though i also wanna credit that initial spark

[grace-williams-xo]

RAMBLING THOUGHTS AFTER FINISHING PART TWO. GONNA ADDRESS MY P1 THOUGHTS FIRST. SPOILER WARNING.

1 & 2: I think Debling could’ve worked in the second half, and I’m kinda sad Cressida didn’t get a happy ending. The Creloise fell of a CLIFF after ep 5 but I think it could still be saved

5: no cishet man has ever loved his wife more than Anthony Bridgerton I’m gonna be ill

6 & 12: kanthony’s absence was felt BAD in the finale, I think their reactions to LW were sorely needed. Also Jonny and Simone have both said they’ll be at every sibling’s wedding and stick around for years but they missed Francesca’s??? Also felt their absence too much then. They’re both booked and busy I think we’ll continue to only get a couple episodes a season from them

8: Francesca did get to thrive happy in pt 2 my baby I love her

9: I think they managed to disconnect the mondrich plot even further like 😭 once again, I don’t mind them their plot just feels very empty

10: Pen and Delacroix CONTINUE to be my fave duo I love them so freaking much and they can never get rid of it

13: Portia’s growth this season continued to be 10/10 I loved her and Penelope’s relationship it really showed what it’s like to be closely related to people you oppose and the process of needing to forgive and understand them for your own peace of mind

14: that was not how I was expecting Colin to find out about Whistledown

15: Marcus felt a little rushed in part two but I think I need to watch the whole season together to fully decide

17: this was indeed the longest 27 days of my life I got Covid day after it dropped lmfao

MY ~NEW~ THOUGHTS:

We finally got character development from Cressida and if they write her out I’ll be inconsolable (as will Jessica Madsen)

I hope they paid Golda Rosheuvel good for her feet exposure. Worth more than titties in this economy

I feel the need to tell everyone that £5000 in 1815 is in the realm of £500,000 today and we cannot brush over the fact Penelope has made herself the equivalent of a literal millionaire

Anthony has two moods ‘I’m obsessed with my wife’ ‘I want to win this game’ like it is comical how drastically different his facial expression is in the game of charades compared to pretty much every other scene

Anthony saying the marriage is perfect and not hard work and Kate being like BOY I will humble you,,,, doing the lord’s work I love her so much

At some points I felt like Francesca was fighting Anthony for ‘Violet’s least favourite child’ award lmao

John saying he’s off to look at the wainscotting was unfairly funny

Cressida in the red dress is even better than I imagined fuck even if she’s not gay then I am

Peneloise back together the universe is healing I love my babies all we need now is creloise lovers and peneloise friendship simultaneously I don’t like it being one or the other sue me

However much Brimsley is getting paid isn’t enough,,,, Hugh Sachs the man that you are

I adored Penelope’s wedding dress so much and as bitter as I am still about no kanthony wedding in s2, it felt kind of right somehow for Polin to be the first wedding we properly see in this show

Most of the costumes and makeup feel like they got worse,,,,, big ‘I hired a 14 year old’ energy. I don’t need historical accuracy but I would like a modicum of care and the costume/hair/makeup dept looking at a single historical reference from before 1850,,,, please

We all got the bi Benedict we’ve been asking for and I appreciate it, and recognise that he needed Tilley to explore that, but I still would’ve preferred if they first main queer experience was not a threesome

If they go straight into benophie in s4 (which idk, I’m so torn bc I feel like F, E and B all could work well next season) then I also feel like bi Benedict was just them throwing a bone for 5 mins but meant nothing

The CONTENTIOUS Michaela Stirling,,,,, I was undecided until I saw it but that was the definition of gay panic from Francesca and it worked so well I am so excited.

As your resident peerage expert, it is much easier for women to inherit titles in Scotland than England so I wonder (not that anyone on this show knows anything) if that was a reason they chose Francesca to be sapphic [general peerage info and female inheritance info if you care]

On the above, if they can canonically end racism with one marriage then they can end homophobia with one marriage as well

We all know Eloise was the easy and obvious choice to be the queer love story but part of me does kind of like them not taking the easy route, and them going something more unexpected, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want Creloise/Sapphic El like they had eight children let’s be honest

Finch’s sneeze and Phillips’s “now Varely! The bugs!” were unfairly funny

Everything Lady Danbury said to Penelope about suspecting her and what not felt very in character and you can fight with the wall idc

Did they tell us the name of Polin’s baby boy???

Hyacinth saying she thinks of Gregory as the family pet,,,,, girl you an icon walking amongst mere mortals

Predictions I got right:

Anthony didn’t kill Colin, but “are you gonna duel your own brother” lmao I was on the right track

I knew Polin would win the Featherington baby race and I love that for them (but why were Prudence and Phillipa pregnant most of the season, barely showing, Kate was showing almost immediately, and then in the epilogue the sisters all had baby’s similar-ish ages???? Give the writers room a calendar please)

I SAID FROM DAY DOT THAT THE FURNITURE THEY BROKE FROM SEX WAS A CHAISE I CANT FIND THE POST BUT I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT WHERE DO I COLLECT MY PRIZE SOME OF YOUR GUESSES WERE TRULY FUCKING COOKED

Okay that was too long if you made it this far I’ll make you cookie ily

[likeadevils]

Midnights Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Midnights in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing Midnights and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order, or this playlist of her entire discography. WARNING: there is a very large chunk on the playlists that I have no information on (Maroon-Dear Reader).

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date: 

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

Renegade: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: “I wrote the music [for Renegade] at some point after we finished [evermore], and sent it to her, because she was inspired by a llot of the Big Red Machine stuff we were working on. And she had already sung on Birch, a song that hasn't come out yet but is one of the major ones on the record. And I think she wanted to write a song for Big Red Machine. She very much feels like part of this community to me. So I wrote Renegade, the music, and sent it to her. And not unlike a lot of the things we've done together, one day I woke up to a voice memo from her and she had written this incredible song about how anxiety and fear get in the way of loving or being loved. And she was clearly thinking about Big Red Machine. And then we recorded her vocals and everything the week of the Grammys, when I was there in LA, and it was really nice to have something to think about that wasn't related to the Grammys - just to make music because you feel like making it." (transcript from jaimie)

High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: [Would've Could've Should've], we wrote that song together, and recorded it while we were together in LA for the folklore Grammys. It goes back that far. And the same with High Infidelity. Those songs, we actually recorded in her house, the vocals, we recorded them then. And I just kept making music, and it was kind, after we had made folklore and evermore, I started to have ideas which I would share. And eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different. But High Infidelity, and Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, and The Great War, and we made Hits Different with Jack and Taylor and I also, and it was great to be part of that record in that way. (transcript from @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes)

The Great War and Hits Different: between April-October 2021 (Speculation)

In the above quote talking about his songs on Midnights, Aaron says "Eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different," implying his stuff was written before the bulk of midnights in fall. He also says High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've "[go] back that far," which implies they were some of the earliest stuff on Midnights, so it's safe to assume TGW and Hits Different come sometime afterwards.

Summer 2021: Jack has a session with Sounwave, Sam Dew, and Zoe Kravitz, where the instrumentals for Lavender Haze and likely Glitch are written

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: Before Antonoff began to work on Swift’s tenth album, he was cooking up tracks with Spears, Dew, and Zoë Kravitz [...] During a brainstorming session, the quartet put together a track that would eventually become “Lavender Haze.”

November 3 2021: It was announced that Joe has been cast in Stars at Noon, alongside Margaret Qualley, Jack Antonoff's then girlfriend now wife. Since Joe was parachuted into the film last minute, filming had already started, making it likely he left as soon as possible.

Taylor: We’d been toying with ideas and had written a few things we loved, but Midnights actually really coalesced and flowed out of us when our partners (both actors) did a film together in Panama. Jack and I found ourselves back in New York, alone, recording every night, staying up late and exploring old memories and midnights past.

November 8: Jack gets back from touring with Bleachers. Let the games begin.

Vigilante Shit: November 2021 (Speculation)

Vigilante Shit is the sole solo writing credit on the album, which implies it was written before her and Jack were holed up together 24/7. Also Scooter and his wife divorced in July. Beyond that there's no evidence this is early in the process, besides it making sense that Taylor wrote this alone, brought it to Jack, and then fell into a creative inferno.

Maroon, Anti-Hero, You're on Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Bejeweled, Labyrinth, Mastermind, Paris, and Dear Reader: November/December 2021 (Inferring)

I don't have enough info on the making of any of these songs to give them each their own little blurb, but if anything pops up I will update this post and reblog it letting y’all know.

Question..?: After November 21, 2021 (Inferring)

We know Rachel Antonoff, Dylan O'Brien, and Austin Swift were there the day they recorded it thanks to this behind the scenes footage of them recording the cheering vocals. Dylan was filming The Vanishings at Caddo Lake in Louisiana sometime between October 5 and November 20. I don't know exactly which dates he was filming-- he was in New York for All Too Well filming in late October and to attend the premiere on November 12, but since we know for sure he was in Louisiana on the 20th, I'm just gonna Occam's Razor it and say Question was written sometime after he got back from that.

You're Losing Me: December 5, 2021 (Confirmed)

December 17, 2021: Filming wraps on Stars at Noon, and with it the bulk of recording for Midnights.

Lavender Haze: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Lavender Haze, Snow on the Beach, and Karma are the only songs to have Henson Recording Studios credited (I can't find studio credits for the 3am tracks so there is possibly more on there). This could point to them all being recorded around the same time time, or it could be in reference to Jack and Sounwave's original recording sessions taking place at Hensen. I lean towards the former, since 1) it seems like the Winter 2021 sessions were mostly between Taylor and Jack, and the spring sessions have other collaborators, and 2) the tabloid rumors about Taylor and Joe getting engaged really started heating up in February 2022. On the other hand, Sounwave implies that there was a notable stretch of time between Lavender Haze and Karma, so I totally understand if you want to put it with the rest of the Winter 2021 sessions. Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: A few months [after Jack and Sounwave wrote the instrumentals], Antonoff reached out to Spears, Dew, and Kravitz to see if he could pitch [Lavender Haze] to Swift, who loved it immediately. She wrote lyrics inspired by a Mad Men scene, numerous tabloid rumors and online gossip about her relationship status, and “1950s expectations.” “When Jack brought us in the hear for the first time, all our mouths dropped. She took it to a whole new world and made it her own. She created different pockets we did not hear.”

Glitch: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: "Glitch,” one of the bonus songs on the Midnights (3am) edition, was born from the same studio session as “Lavender Haze.” I don't know if this means the instrumentals to Lavender Haze and Glitch were done in the same session, Taylor wrote the lyrics in the same session, or both. For the same reason as Lavender Haze, I lean towards this coming later in the process, as well as Glitch mentioning being together for six years, and in November 2021 Taylor and Joe had been together for a little over 5 years. That being said, Taylor could've assume the album was going to come out in 2022, and that she would stay with Joe until then, and bump up that date a bit. It's still very up in the air.

February 5, 2022: Taylor is photographed leaving Jack's house holding a keyboard.

Sweet Nothing: Spring 2022 (Inferring)

Joe is a co-write on this, meaning they likely wrote it after he got back from filming. It also mentions their trip to Ireland in 2021 and refers to it as "last July", implying it was written in 2022. While I was writing this timeline Taylor liked this post on twitter, implying that at least the second verse is in reference to Paul and Linda McCartney. The quote is from his poem Blessed, which you can read in this interview (TWs for death and cancer)

Bigger Than The Whole Sky: March 2022 (Inferring)

Claire Winter, a close friend of Taylor's, posts on Instagram that she miscarried. (I toyed with whether or not to add this, but seeing as Claire Winter made the information public herself, I decided to put it in. If she ever takes that Instagram post down, let me know and I'll delete this part.)

Snow on the Beach: April 1, 2022 (Inferring)

On April 1, Lana Del Rey posts a video on Instagram of Jack in the studio with an unidentified female voice in the background. Two days later she posts this photo, which Taylor and Jack both include in posts about Midnights/Snow on the Beach. Lana: Well, first of all, I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted. My job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song. I thought it was nice to be able to bridge that world, since Jack [Antonoff] and I work together and so do Jack and Taylor. Taylor: And with Snow On The Beach, which features the genius Lana Del Rey, very lucky to have collaborated with her on that. And Dylan [O’Brien] was actually in the studio with me and Jack, because a lot of the time we record at his place, and Dylan was just hanging out, drinking wine with us, and listening to stuff, and he was just trying out the drum kit there. He wasn't serious. But we were drinking wine, and we were sort of like, 'We haven't recorded the drums for this one yet! See if you want to...' and he played the drums on the song. Sometimes it just happens like that. (transcript once again from jaimie)

Karma: Spring 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: The bubbly “Karma” came later [than Lavender Haze and Glitch], when Antonoff reached out to Spears for any other ideas he may have to contribute to the album and its synth-pop vision. “‘Karma’ was just a last-minute Hail Mary,” Spears says. “I remembered I was working with my guy Keanu [Beats] and had something that was too perfect not to send to her. As soon as I sent it, Jack was instantly like ‘This is the one. Playing it for Taylor now. We’re going in on it.’ The next day, I heard the final product with her vocals on it.”

April 19, 2022: Elle's interview with the Conversations with Friends cast is released, and when Joe is "asked if he hopes to continue writing songs, Alwyn simply says, “It’s not a plan of mine, no.”" It's possible this means Sweet Nothing was yet to be written, but I think it's more likely Joe was just denying in order to not create hype around a song that wasn't officially announced yet.

May 2022: Taylor teases Labyrinth lyrics in her NYU Commencement Speech and says m i d n i g h t very prominently on this instagram post, meaning by early summer she was likely confident in the album's name and which songs would make the tracklist.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Look who it is - Lucien x reader

A/N: Here's the second part of "fun night", I couldn't let Lucien and reader be after all those drunk confessions, right? It can be read as a stand-alone too!

Warnings: injury, pining (tiny bit of angst), hot daycourt!lucien, happy ending!

Your head was pounding because of the alcohol you drank yesterday, when you lazily strolled into the sitting room that connected Lucien’s bedroom to yours. Lucien was casually lounging in the couch, a book in his lap. “Look who it is, mrs drunk face!” he grinned. “Ugh” you could only answer when you fell next to him on the couch, your palm on your forehead. “I’ve got some tonic for you, over there” he nodded to the table. “Oh you’re the best Lu” you smiled.

He was always so sweet to you. Yes, he could be a prick sometimes, but that was out of love. Probably because he felt some sister/brother relation between the two of you, to your disappointment… “You said something like that last night” he snickered. “I-what?” you asked confused. But Lucien only stared at you with his signature grin. “Nothing, nothing” he sighed.

“Well, I hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself, because I was obviously too drunk to be aware of what I say” you chuckled. You could’ve sworn you saw hurt flicker in his pretty russet eye, the metal whirring next to it. You really hoped you didn’t say something horrible to him last night. “I didn’t… insult you or something yesterday, right?” you hesitated, carefully placing your hand on his leg. Lucien only shrugged, “Of course not, nothing to worry about y/n/n." Relieve washed over you, but your hangover still felt horrible. That stupid excuse of a high lord Helion feeded you alcohol again, you scowled him in your head, laced with affection.

“What you should worry about though, is the fact you look horrible, with all do respect” the man next to me teased. “It’s not like I have to go anywhere today, it’s Sunday”. But Lucien started laughing at what you said, “it’s Monday honey, we have a meeting with the lord of Tevedra in… half an hour”. You shot out of the couch. “What?!”

Tevedra was an important city in the day court, the meeting you, Lucien and Helion had with him was also very important. How could you forget this, how could Helion possibly give you that much alcohol the evening before? “I’m going to kill your father” you groaned, stomping to your bedroom to get ready. You heard Lucien laugh behind you.

You quickly dressed appropriately to meet the nobility, choosing a sparkling white dress that squeezed your hips and flowed around your ankles. You also put on some jewelry and make up and you curled your hair, trying to cover up the fact you had a hangover. You ran out of the bathroom, back into the joined living room. Helion and Lucien were already standing there, both very handsome in the typical Day Court gowns. They both looked up when they heard you run in. “Just in time” you breathed out. “You look really beautiful y/n” Lucien was staring at you. The compliment, if it was one, made you blush. You tried to hide it, but it was no use, both males saw. “T-thank you Lucien” you stuttered. “Let’s go” Helion grinned, looking at the both of you with a big smirk. 

You followed them into the corridor, you couldn’t help but notice how much they look alike when you walked behind them. The power radiated from both of them, they both walked with such grace and strength, the sun reflecting on their beautiful skin. When you first met Helion you had a little crush on the High Lord. But it was nothing compared to how you felt when you’d first met Lucien. The same beauty and flirtatiousness as his father, but with such beautiful copper locks and an interesting metal eye. You felt different with him, it was more than just a silly crush. 

“How are you feeling y/n? Not to worn out I hope?” Helion teased, looking at you behind him. "You got me drunk" you grumpily said. Helion laughed, "don't act like it wasn't your choice too y/n, luckily our dear Lucien was so kind to put you in bed”

“Oh, yeah, I remember” you tried to think about what had happened. “You do?” Lucien suddenly snapped his head to you. “Well, not that much, just… I don’t know” you sighed. Lucien seemed disappointed by that. And then you remembered. Oh shit, this was so embarrassing, you practically told him that you wanted him last night. You said you'd get over him. “Oh no, I-I remember…” you stuttered. It was a challenge to face Lucien, you were too scared of his reaction, but in the corner of your eyes you saw the distraught look on his face.

And before you knew it, Lucien was falling. Hard. Tumbling down the big marble stairs you were descending. You weren’t even surprised by how graceful he fell, Lucien was always graceful. But he kept falling. His head smacking against the stone. “Lucien” Helion shouted with worry. Your own heart stopped beating for a moment. He was Fae, he would survive this. But still, it was like your instincts were screaming at you, like a rock crushed your whole body. Worry flooded your senses. “Oh my god” you breathed out, running down the stairs to him. He looked unconscious.

And then you felt it. A snap. A thread, trying to pull you closer to him. “No, no, no, this can’t be real, this- this..” You started to panic. All this time? All those years that you've been pining over you best friend, he was actually your mate? “Don’t worry y/n, he isn’t that injured, he will heal quickly, I promise” Hellion said. But that wasn’t what you were so panicked about. “I know.. but he’s… he’s…” the words were stuck in your throat. Helion grabbed your shoulder, “Hey y/n, he'll be okay, calm down”

“He’s my mate”

𖤓••☼••𖤓••☼••𖤓••☼••𖤓

Lucien still looked so beautiful and powerful like his, that subtle halo still shining around his bronze skin. Even when he was laying there, on the bed you were sitting on, so vulnerable, bruises that where already healing all over his face. You stroked his hair carefully. Then he stirred. "Y/n", his voice was raspy and soft, eyes still closed but a soft smile on his lips. It was love and appreciation you could hear in that voice, you then realized. “Gods, I’m so embarrassed, a High Lord’s heir, falling from the stairs like a clumsy human boy” he groaned. You laughed softly, playing with the copper strands between your fingers. “You are embarrassed? I should be the embarrassed one when I think about what I told you last night” you giggled. Lucien laughed with you. "How are you feeling?" you breathed. "I'm okay, it'll heal fast." There was a comfortable silence for a moment. Just you and him, your hands stroking him lovingly. "Lucien, we... we need to talk."

"If it's about last night, it's okay, really, you don't have to be sorry for things you didn't mean" he sighed. But you shook your head. "No, not about that." Lucien's brows furrowed. You didn't know how to put it into words, so you just tugged on the invisible thread between you two. Lucien gasped, eyes in shock. "W-Where...W-what" he stuttered. "You're my mate" you whispered, your fingers softly traced his cheek. "You know? It snapped into place?” he said, tears lining his eyes. "You knew? Why didn't you just tell me Lu?"

Lucien shook his head, speechless. He carefully placed his hand over the one you had on his cheek. "I wanted it to be yours too. I wanted you to have the liberty. And I-I thought you didn't want me." he whispered with desperation is his eyes. “Lucien, I’ve been in love with you from the first day I met you” you smiled shakily, tears in your eyes. Lucien only stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Tell me what you think” you sighed, hopeful. Lucien smiled, “It’s not often that I���m at loss for words”, he waited for a second, “I-I love you y/n. I really do. I’ve wanted to tell you that for so long. I got scared, I’m so sorry”

“Oh Lucien” you sighed “don’t apologise, can I… can I lay next to you?” He opened one arm slowly, inviting you. “I love you too” you whisper, while laying down next to him in his arms. You placed your leg over his and burried your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. Your mates scent. You could feel it in every sense now, that he was yours, and you were his. Finally.

“Guess I should wait and offer you some food when you’re healed, right?” you smiled. He laughed. “Yes, when i’m in good shape for the… acceptance phase…” he smirked.

You couldn’t wait for all that was ahead of you. Your life, with your best friend and mate.

𖤓••☼••𖤓••☼••𖤓••☼••𖤓

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 14

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, swearing, references to the loss of a parent or parents, reference to past bedroom activities

Seresin Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Now

The ride home was spent in silence. The girls had quickly packed their things and mounted their horses after Savannah had shrieked at their father that she wanted to go home, right that second. Jake had nodded at them that they were going home, and they were all fully packed within a half an hour.

Savannah hadn’t made a peep since, only hissing at their father that his ‘chances’ with her father were now impossible before plopping herself onto a boulder and ignoring them all. Jake had only huffed a sigh and packed both of their bags up before tacking up the horses.

They had taken the short trail back to the ranch and took no stops, so they ended up back at the ranch just before dinner time, their mother peeking her head out of the curtains and frowning at them.

Savannah clumsily dismounted, Angel stomping her foot in discomfort until the petite blond had her designer cowgirl boots on solid ground. With a huff, Savannah whipped her hair as she turned towards their father and hurled her engagement ring at his chest.

“You could’ve been so much more than this,” she hissed at him, jerking her chin at his girls. “We could’ve sent them to a boarding school or to live with their mother, and you could’ve joined the Navy again like you wanted to! Instead, you’ll never be anything but some…some…farmer!”

Jake shook his head slowly at her, his eyes locked on her with a look that Charlie was very happy she had never seen directed at her.

“I would never have let you send my girls to boarding school. Being their father is the best thing I have ever done. And if you can’t see that, then it’s your fault,” Jake’s voice was calm and cool, but Rooster recognized it as he and Buttercup emerged from the house, trying and failing to look nonchalant as they rushed towards the tense looking confrontation. It was Jake’s mission voice. His Hangman voice. The same voice he had used when he had confronted Rooster about the Uranium Mission, about him not having what it takes to fly, about how he was only there because Maverick had flown with Rooster’s old man. Hangman was pure arrogance and jet fuel, with none of Jake’s tenderness and homespun, golden boy manners.

“Or is it your fault for not telling me there were two of those little demons?” Savannah sneered.

“Watch it,” Buttercup stepped forward. “Nobody gets to talk about my girls that way.”

Savannah rolled her eyes. “You can have him,” she scoffed as she turned her back on them all and strolled towards the big, black SUV that was thundering up the drive. “Nobody will want him now anyway.”

Rooster moved to stand next to Jake as Savannah clambered up into the SUV that her father was driving, offering the retired Air Force Colonel a sarcastic salute before crouching and retrieving the fallen diamond ring.

They watched in silence as the SUV roared away, a collective sigh of relief rippling through them all as it disappeared into the distance.

“I feel like I should burn this thing,” Rooster mused, staring down at the platinum band. “Y’know, douse it in holy water and set it on fire so it doesn’t attract any more hell spawn.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Shut up, man. Hey! Slow your roll, you two!”

Rooster peered over his shoulder at the twins, who were trying to make a sneaky exit into the house. Rooster chuckled as they glanced at each other and slowed their footsteps but didn’t stop.

“Freeze, ladies!” Buttercup barked, striding towards them. “You know what your father meant.”

With a sigh that heaved their shoulders, Abby and Charlie halted on the porch and turned towards their parents.

Jake crouched in front of them and scanned their faces with his pilot’s precision.

“Someone better start talking…” he murmured into the still air.

“Well, you see—”

“We didn’t actually do anything wrong—”

“It’s only that—”

“Nothing dangerous—”

Jake held up a hand and the air went still again.

“Chipmunks don’t just miraculously appear in a closed saddlebag,” he started, staring between them. “They have to be placed there. And I don’t know anyone better at handling rodents than my daughter Charlie, who has been helping remove chipmunks and squirrels from the hay loft since she was a toddler.” Charlie flushed, kicking at a stone beneath her boot. “And while I appreciate the concern you both had about Savannah having an allergic reaction, that doesn’t explain this.” He pulled the open packet of itching powder out of his jeans pocket. Abby gulped. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the hay around the tent spikes of Savannah’s tent either.” He looked between them. “All I want to know is why?”

He stared at them for a long moment, green clashing with green, until Abby groaned and crumbled. “I’m sorry, Dad, but Savannah was awful. She bragged about being a champion rider, but anyone with eyes could tell she had never been on a horse! And she was always hanging off you like she couldn’t do anything by herself. And…”

“And her vibe was way off, Dad,” Charlie added, stepping forward. “And I think you knew that. That’s why you didn’t introduce us until after you proposed.”

“I didn’t introduce you because you were off at camp,” Jake argued, biting back a groan as he stretched back to his full height. “And I’ll admit that I should’ve told her that you’re twins, but at the time, I thought you didn’t know about each other.”

“So, you kept Abby a secret from me, and I kept my feelings about Savannah a secret from you,” Charlie grinned slyly. “Sounds like we both did the wrong thing, old man.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Maybe…but I’m the adult here. Which means I’m the one who gets to dole out any punishment for unnecessary pranks pulled on the trail ride.”

Charlie gulped. “You’re not going to make Mom and Abby go home early are you?”

Jake’s eyes softened. “I would never do that, Charlie-girl. But you and your sister are going to be doing extra chores around here. You’re going to have to muck out all the stalls in the morning, feed the horses, and polish the tack.”

Abby and Charlie grinned at each other. “Is that it?”

“Restricted phone time,” Buttercup shot them a stern look. “You can have your phones for an hour in the morning and an hour at night. But that’s it. I have no doubt you used your phones to help coordinate these schemes of yours, so this is just a natural consequence.”

“Can Abby still sleep in my room?”

Jake met Buttercup’s eyes and nodded. “We’re okay with that.”

“And we can still go to Uncle Javy’s football game?”

Buttercup grinned at Jake and rolled her eyes fondly. “I suppose that’s alright.”

The girls cheered and hugged each other. “We’re okay with that!”

They grabbed their backpacks and ran into the house, chattering away, and Buttercup sighed before following along behind them.

“Not so fast.”

She blinked and turned to him. “What did I do?”

Jake folded his arms across his broad chest and cocked an eyebrow at her. “You know what you did.”

Buttercup’s hands met her hips as she shifted her weight to jut a hip out. “Do I?”

Jake rolled his eyes as a smile played on his lips. “What exactly did Savannah say to you to make you bail on the trail ride? I know you. Spending time with Abby, getting to know Charlie, the opportunity to see me potentially make an ass of myself? You were ready and willing to go on the ride until I went outside to get the horses ready. So, what did my ex-fiancée say to my ex-wife to scare her off the ride?”

Buttercup scoffed. “I wasn’t scared. I figured it was a good opportunity for the girls to get to know their stepmother.”

“And if their stepmother got the chance to get to know them, and didn’t like what she saw?” Jake’s grin was sharp with challenge.

“Then that would be her loss, just like you said.” Buttercup tossed her hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t know what you’re implying here, Hangman.”

Jake’s answering chuckle sent a small thrill through her. “I’m implying that I spent three months with Savannah, and the only way she would get near a horse would be if there was a risk of her losing face. And the only person who would be willing to put her in that situation is you. But you wouldn’t do that without reason, so c’mon, darlin’. Out with it.”

Buttercup sighed lightly. “She asked me to write her wedding vows for her. Her vows to you.” She could’ve giggled at the way Jake’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, but the whole situation had left her with an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. “It was a power play, plain and simple. So, yeah. Maybe I got the feeling that the girls didn’t like her and would probably make her life hell on the ride, so I might have suggested to Savannah that she should go on the ride because it would make you happy and she would be able to bond with the girls.”

Jake chuckled in spite of himself. “You’re just as diabolical as they are, you know.”

Buttercup shrugged delicately. “They had to get it from somewhere. Too bad for you, I’m an adult too and you can’t dole out any punishment to me.”

Jake shifted on his feet, his quiet chuckle sending tingles through her body as the air around them spiked with…something.

“Not like I haven’t before,” he breathed, mostly to himself.

Buttercup folded her arms across her chest, almost as though she were afraid that her heart would beat right out of her chest. The memories of them, the things they had done together, surged through her brain, her bloodstream, lighting her up like a firefly. But he was still Jake, and any fire between her and Jake had been doused a long time ago, and it had to stay that way. For the good of everyone involved.

“Um,” she swallowed. “Rooster made chili. He said it was some sort of post-trail ride tradition. We were just setting the table when we heard the commotion.”

Jake nodded and patted Firewall’s flank. “Let me just take care of these guys, and I’ll be right in. Make sure you save me a bowl, alright? Charlie would eat the entire pot if we let her.”

Jake groaned as he pushed his bowl away.

“That was your best batch yet, Uncle Roo,” Charlie grinned a sleepy smile, inching towards food coma territory.

“I’m still pissed you couldn’t cook like this when we lived together,” Natasha grumbled, though the smile on her face stole any bite the words might have held.

Bob nodded in agreement. “The whole squadron would be shocked that Mr. Ramen and Burnt Toast has a degree from culinary school.”

Rooster grunted at them. “I only burnt my toast once. You two just won’t let me forget it.”

“More than once,” Javy grinned at him, leaning back in his chair, and Jake smiled. It seemed like, for tonight at least, Javy and Nat had called a truce. They hadn’t glared or shot thinly veiled remarks at each other all night. Of course, they hadn’t spoken or looked at each other either, but Jake found himself grateful for the lack of anything between them.

“Alright, well maybe I should prove my badass kitchen skills then, huh?” Rooster leaned forward, a smirk tugging on his lips. “I think it’s high time for a Daggers Reunion. What do you say? We can celebrate the fact that Jake isn’t gonna marry that absolute pain in the ass he called a fiancée.”

“Rooster!” Buttercup looked shocked. “I know you didn’t like her, but Jake wouldn’t have asked her to marry him if he didn’t have feelings for her.”

Javy scoffed. “More like feelings about his future. Your boy here didn’t want to have an empty nest when Charlie grows up, so he was gonna—ow, shit!” Javy winced as Jake’s foot connected with his knee. “Dude, what the hell?”

Buttercup felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “It’s alright, Jake. I get it. They’re almost 12. In six years or so, they’ll be off and we’ll be left on our own. I don’t know what the future holds for me either, and it’s a scary thought.”

“Don’t worry, Mum,” Abby yawned, leaning against her sister. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Buttercup grinned. “Thank you, baby. But I do think maybe you two should go upstairs to bed. You’ve had a busy day.”

Abby nodded and tugged Charlie off her chair before hugging her mother, then her father.

Charlie followed suit but stilled at the landing of the staircase. “I like Uncle Roo’s idea. A Dagger’s reunion sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll see if we can make it happen,” Jake smiled softly at the girls as they ascended the staircase.

“Can we also go out to dinner tomorrow?” Abby paused a few steps from the top. “Just the four of us? As a family?”

Jake nodded. “Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”

“Okay. Night, Dad. Night, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” their parents chorused.

“Dude, you’re such a softie now,” Natasha smirked at him over the lip of her wine glass. “They just cost you your fiancée, Bagman. And you’re letting them call the shots.”

Jake fixed her with a look. “I’m not soft, Phoenix.” He grinned. “In fact, everyone else on this ranch have been pulling their weight, except you two. So, I’d really appreciate it if you and Baby On Board would do the dishes while Javy and I go make sure everything is locked up tight.”

Natasha gaped at him. “What about Buttercup? Or Rooster?”

“Rooster cooked,” Jake shrugged. “And Buttercup’s been working on her novel. What have you and Bob been up to? Other than drinking my wine, eating my food, and eating up my Wi-Fi?” Natasha glared and he grinned. “Enjoy. C’mon, Javy.”

The two men rose from their seats and left the room, clearly headed to make sure the ranch was locked up for the night. Rooster rose with a groan and mumbled something about watching the football game in his room, leaving after patting Buttercup on the head.

Natasha looked around at all the dirty dishes and grumbled. “Your husband is such an asshole.”

“Ex,” Buttercup clarified quietly, running her finger over the lip of her glass. “Besides, you shouldn’t have shot your mouth off with the softie comment. You had to have known he’d retaliate.”

“Yeah, but did he have to bring me into it?” Bob sighed, already gathering dishes and taking them into the kitchen.

Buttercup giggled as her family disappeared into the kitchen, the soft sounds of their bickering carrying through the archway as she stared at the darkened front door, waiting for Jake to return.

The next day passed smoothly, and the four occupants of the main house (plus the grumpy uncle living in the attic) fell into a rhythm of sorts. Jake and the girls were out of the house by the time Buttercup woke up, jetlag and a sleepless night weighing on her mind. However, she found a breakfast of cinnamon oatmeal and fruit salad waiting for her on the stove and a box of her favourite tea sitting next to the kettle. Buttercup settled into the desk in her bedroom and cranked out a few more pages of her book, the characters finally deciding to play along and follow the plot, though the plot wasn’t turning out exactly the way she had imagined it. By the time noon came around, she had wandered down into the kitchen, where she helped Rooster prepare barbecue chicken Ceasar wraps for everyone before going out into the ranch and calling her family home to eat. After their meal, Jake stole them all away to the local high school, where he assisted Javy with coaching their football team. Even when they had been together, Buttercup hadn’t been much of a football fan, but she found herself enjoying the time spent in the bleachers, especially when Jake would demonstrate a play for the rookie quarterback (though she would deny that last part to the ends of the earth and back).

By the time they got back to the ranch, the girls were hustling their parents into their bedrooms to change for their family dinner.

“Babe, we didn’t even make a reservation,” Buttercup sighed as Abby shoved her make up bag into her hands and pushed her towards the ensuite bathroom.

“Any place that would dress code me for not wearing a suit would be booked up months in advance, kiddo,” Jake protested as Charlie tossed his navy-blue suit onto his bed.

“Don’t worry about it,” both girls had reassured their parents. “Our aunt and uncles took care of everything.”

The statement had been less than reassuring, but both parents were determined to play ball. Buttercup had conceded to wearing her aqua coloured midi dress (a dress Charlie had insisted she pack once she had seen it in her mother’s closet back in London) and had even put on the diamond necklace that had been a joint Christmas present from her family last year. Jake had begrudgingly put on his navy suit and the silver and blue aviator watch he had bought on a whim a few years back. The girls had dressed up in matching black dresses (no doubt a gift from their Uncle Bob) and ushered them out of the house before they could say goodbye to Bob, Rooster or Natasha. 

“Alright, ladies,” Jake grinned, spinning his car keys around his finger. “Ready to tell me exactly where we’re going?” He started as Charlie clamped onto his wrist, dragging him down the dirt path towards the dude ranch.

“Right this way, old man.”

Jake craned his neck back just in time to see Abby take a much gentler grip on her mother’s arm, steadying her as the heels of her shoes sunk into the dirt.

“Charlie, your mother is going to break her neck out here without much light.” In truth, the sun would be going down in a few hours, but the way it hung low in the sky had shadows painting the path in darkness. Charlie blinked up at him, a challenge gleaming there, and Jake sighed. “Let me go, kid.”

He shook off his daughter’s grip and strode backwards until he could offer Buttercup his elbow. “C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured. “Can’t have you breaking an ankle out here. Don’t want a lawsuit on my hands.”

Buttercup chuckled as she wrapped her arm around his. “Thank you…” she whispered as Abby pranced up the path to join her sister. “Honestly, I don’t know how they come up with so many harebrained schemes.”

“You think they’re scheming?”

She shot Jake a knowing look. “Do you know any family friendly restaurants where the diners dress up like this?” She gestured to their semi-formal clothing. “And if you do know any, are any of them located down this dirt path?”

Jake nodded his head towards her, conceding her point. “They’re your daughters, alright.”

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “I’m not the scheming parent, thank you very much.”

“Seriously? Wasn’t eloping in Vegas your idea?”

She bit her lip to hide her grin. “That wasn’t a scheme. That was taking advantage of the air show in Vegas and the fact that everyone we loved was there. Besides, that didn’t run the risk of potential bodily harm.”

Jake shook off the zing of pain that ran through him at the memory and forced the smile to remain on his face. “Maybe for you, but I have only the haziest memory of the morning after our wedding. Rooster and Fanboy kept pouring marga-beers down my throat even though you told them to stop.”

Buttercup giggled, and something warm flared in Jake’s chest. “Maybe they get it from them then. Rooster, Javy, and Natasha are all pretty heavy handed with the schemes, aren’t they?”

“Oh, more than you know,” Jake laughed as they approached the gazebo that overlooked the manmade pond. They’d put both features in a few years previous, trying to make the dude ranch more attractive for people who wanted more of a vacation than a chance to prove themselves on a ranch.

“Girls?” Buttercup called as they jumped up onto the gazebo before ducking out of sight. Within seconds, the whole structure was lit up, the tiny fairy lights glittering off the water.

“Speaking of schemes…” Jake muttered, guiding Buttercup over the rocky terrain and up onto the gazebo.

In the center, a small, round table for two sat invitingly, a vase of fresh wildflowers pushed to one side to make room for the plates, cutlery, and linen napkins that waited to be used.

“Hoo boy,” Buttercup whispered as he pulled out one of the wrought iron chairs and helped her sit comfortably.

“Girls, what are you doing?” Jake turned to find them standing by the stairs of the gazebo.

“We…wanted to thank you!” Charlie grinned. “Y’know, for being so nice about us switching places.”

“And blackmailing you,” Abby added.

“And blackmailing you,” Charlie nodded her agreement. “Oh! And we wanted to apologize for chasing off Savannah.”

“And you decided that a romantic dinner for two was the best way to do that?” Buttercup’s face was filled with such bemusement that Jake had to laugh.

“Well, if you’re going to coparent, you need to be able to get along,” Abby chirped cheerfully. “Consider this our way of trying to make that happen!”

“We’re going to leave you to eat,” Charlie grinned. “I really hope you can make it through a simple dinner without arguing. That would bode really well for all of us.”

Jake groaned as the girls skipped away, then groaned again when a shadowy figure stepped into the gazebo, carrying two serving trays.

“Hey man, don’t groan at me. Those two little demons are your spawn,” Javy muttered as he set the two trays of food on the table. “They’re better at finding information and using it to their advantage than the freakin’ Navy.”

Natasha scoffed as she stepped up beside Javy, brandishing a bottle of wine in each hand. “If they weren’t so damn cute, I’d want to kill them.”

Buttercup blinked at them. “You got sucked into another one of their schemes?”

Natasha shrugged. “Apparently, I need to watch what I say when Abby and I are watching trashy TV and eating junk food. The kid’s got Fort Knox as a memory. Don’t know what his excuse is though,” she added, jerking her head at Javy. “Now, do you want red or white? Because Rooster said either will work with the food, but Abby will throw a hissy fit if I don’t play along.”

“They got Bradshaw into this too?” Jake turned to Javy, who shrugged.

“You two somehow managed to raise two extremely intelligent blackmailers, with zero input from the other person and an ocean between you. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t kinda terrifying.” Javy sighed. “Natasha and I will be watching from the cabin. Buttercup, as much as you may want to, please don’t drown him in the lake.”

Buttercup stifled a giggle as their friends strolled away. “Well, at least they’re not arguing anymore,” she mused before lifting the lid off her meal and smiling. “Penne a la vodka with a side salad. How did they know?”

Jake gulped and hoped the dim lighting did enough to hide the redness in his cheeks. They had gone for Italian food for their first date, and that’s what they had both ordered. Buttercup because it was her favourite, and Jake because he’d been so taken with her that he had just said “Same” so that they could get back to their conversation without the waiter being present.

“I might’ve mentioned it once, I guess,” he murmured, taking the lid off his dish and picking up his fork.

“Should we toast or something?”

Jake smiled softly and picked up his glass of red wine. “To…fresh starts?”

Buttercup smiled so sweetly at him that his chest ached with it. “Yeah, fresh starts sound good.”

Buttercup couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so hard. Her sides ached and her cheeks hurt and she desperately hoped that she had put on waterproof mascara because, otherwise, she would have racoon eyes from the tears of laughter she had shed.

She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real. This was the part of her relationship with Jake that had been easy. Falling in love with him had been as easy as breathing. He could make her laugh until she cried, and he would hold her while she cried until he could make her laugh. He made her want to pull her hair out, but one look at those bright green eyes and that sinful smile, and she would forget all about why he frustrated her. She always counted herself lucky that he was there to frustrate her. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that she would rather run the gamut of emotions with Jake Seresin than risk not feeling anything so strongly with another person.

Loving him was easy. Making it work with him was another story. And now, they had two young daughters who were depending on them. She wasn’t about to risk letting them down again. Still, she found she couldn’t quite keep her guard all the way up around him.

“…and that is why I will never take Charlie to another baseball game,” Jake finished his story to Buttercup’s peals of laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you two,” she giggled breathlessly.

“Hey, she’s half you. She doesn’t get those nerves of steel from me.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “Oh please. How many confirmed air-to-air kills do you have under your belt?”

“Hey! That’s totally different. Having nerves of steel in the air while facing down enemy aircraft is completely different from having your six-year-old daughter try to beat the shit out of the opposing team’s mascot because it kinda looked like a monster from her nightmare.”

Buttercup snorted. “I don’t know about that. Sounds like you were both protecting yourselves with those nerves of steel.”

“You were too,” Jake said quietly, taking a sip of his wine.

“When?”

“When you left…” Buttercup froze, and Jake almost regretted saying anything. Almost. “It took guts to leave. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but you were doing what was right for you.”

“I…” Buttercup took a fortifying sip of wine. “I hope you know I didn’t leave just because of you. I mean, I hope you know that I didn’t leave to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Emboldened by the wine, Jake reached out and took her hand. “C’mon, darlin’. Of course I know that. I know you never wanted to hurt me, and I know it felt like you were ripping your own heart out to leave Charlie behind.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze and something squeezed in his heart when she returned the gesture.

“I wish the pandemic had never happened,” Buttercup sighed. “It would’ve been so much easier to keep to the custody schedule if air travel hadn’t become so dangerous.”

Jake nodded. “I wish the court lady hadn’t transcribed our phone numbers wrong.”

Jake had called his lawyer earlier in the day and found that both of their numbers had been written wrong in the paperwork. It had happened to a few other clients, and that’s how they had come to realize that the court stenographer had been drinking on the job.

Buttercup scoffed. “Yeah…the odds were stacked against us at every turn.”

“You really think so?”

Buttercup blinked at him. “You don’t think so? Your deployments, my diagnosis, the pandemic, the clerical error? You don’t think that was fate stamping a big red X on our family?”

Jake leaned forward, close enough to her that she could smell the sharp tang of his cologne and the deep woodsy undertones that were pure Jake. “I think we had a hell of a lot going for us but neither of us knew how to handle the bumps in the road and we fell apart. Tell me, Buttercup. If we knew then what we know now, would we have made it?”

The question made her pause, made everything inside of her freeze. If her past self had all of her present knowledge, would they have made it? Would they have been able to dig through the tunnel of bullshit and make it out clean on the other side? She could imagine it. The open communication, the therapy, the fights they’d have, but together, not against each other.

She shivered at that imaging and met his green gaze. “I’m getting cold,” she whispered. “I think it’s time we go inside.”

Jake sighed but nodded, taking off his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

Knowing that Javy and Nat were on dish duty, he offered Buttercup his elbow and slowly guided her down the path, the silvery light of the moon illuminating mere feet in front of them. She leaned against him more now than she had when they had initially walked the path, but Jake knew that was the jetlag and wine working against her.

“We’ll have to thank Rooster for dinner,” she mumbled as they strolled. “That was probably the best penne I’ve had since—shit!” Her heel caught on a rock in the path and she pitched forward. Quick as a flash of lightning, Jake had her secure against him, one arm wrapped around her waist and one pressing between her shoulder blades.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay,” he murmured into her hair, only realizing how close they were when the scent of Hawaiian orchid wafted over him.

“S-sorry,” she whispered, leaning into his chest more as she steadied herself. She looked up and met his gaze, their noses almost brushing. All it would take was a tilt of her head, and they would be—

Buttercup abruptly pulled away from him, leaning down to take off her shoes and dangling them between her fingers.

“Sorry,” she murmured again. “I didn’t mean to…I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake’s hand warmed the middle of her back. “No harm done, right?”

Buttercup gulped back the knot in her throat as she nodded. “Yeah…no harm done.”

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