#and how would she know any different if she was raised that way

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.

Word count: 6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all. 

His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something. 

Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks. 

And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.

And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out? 

Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to. 

This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it. 

But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before. 

Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate. 

Someone she thought would never do this to her. 

“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. 

Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging. 

“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern. 

No. 

She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick. 

“Are you sure?”

She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again. 

“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs. 

Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing. 

“Long night with Vickie?” 

Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him. 

It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle. 

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”

“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance. 

“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him. 

“I’m not nervous.”

Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.” 

“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true. 

He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!” 

Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it? 

She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him. 

Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does. 

The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it. 

Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick. 

“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.

Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!” 

“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him. 

The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve. 

A lacy thong. 

One that clearly belongs to a girl. 

One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car. 

So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were. 

Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows. 

But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing? 

Is it someone he is ashamed of? 

Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else? 

“Robin?” 

Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other. 

His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger. 

For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face. 

His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder. 

“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say. 

“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out. 

Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say. 

What can he say? 

That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you? 

Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you. 

He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t. 

“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.

As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far. 

But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other? 

She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be. 

So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do? 

He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down. 

“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.” 

“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him. 

Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear. 

That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back. 

“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?” 

Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously. 

Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did. 

He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night. 

And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now. 

But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet. 

Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. 

“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.” 

She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold. 

And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose. 

Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago. 

And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.

The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink. 

You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own. 

Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do. 

This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least. 

But you aren’t friends, are you? 

You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace. 

But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.

This is the only explanation to what she is seeing. 

Anything else would just be… unbelievable. 

And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you. 

Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you. 

It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head. 

But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place. 

And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie. 

She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her. 

You are Steve’s mystery girl. 

Eddie knows, why can’t she know? 

Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred? 

Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her. 

But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you. 

She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her. 

In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill. 

Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs. 

Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that. 

“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!” 

“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle. 

“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”

“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.” 

“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother. 

“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!” 

“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy. 

“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face. 

“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.” 

While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips. 

You sit next to each other, very closely so. 

It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did. 

The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy. 

While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before. 

She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach. 

Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion. 

If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird. 

And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes. 

Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both. 

One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his. 

Oh. Oh. 

Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair. 

She is confused, so very confused and lost. 

And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision. 

She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets. 

She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you. 

You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her. 

And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin. 

She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle. 

The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face. 

Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders. 

And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him. 

When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you. 

“Hey, Blondie.” 

The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else. 

You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine. 

“Hmm?”

“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?” 

Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock. 

She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile. 

Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are. 

Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car. 

A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features. 

“Robs–”

“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare. 

Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little. 

“Sweets,” Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.” 

You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness. 

Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this. 

‘It’s gonna be okay.’

It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise. 

And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach. 

Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive. 

Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance. 

A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky. 

He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”

“Yeah but–”

“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.” 

Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He is right, you know he is. 

You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks. 

You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so. 

And there has to be a reason for it. 

The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right? 

You won’t let Robin take that away from you. 

Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.” 

You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you. 

“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.” 

You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach. 

“I missed them too, Eds.”

-

The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body. 

He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders. 

You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him. 

But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat. 

Was that jealousy on her face before? 

Does she think that you took her spot in his life? 

He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies. 

His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with. 

He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you. 

He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.

Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her. 

He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Do you want something to drink–”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips. 

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him. 

“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice. 

The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate. 

“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!” 

Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!” 

How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together? 

That the secrets are the only thing making you his? 

Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff. 

“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.” 

Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him. 

Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.” 

“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.

Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement. 

He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along. 

“How long has this been going on for?” 

Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips. 

He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other. 

“A little over two months.” 

Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.” 

“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”

“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face. 

“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”

He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand. 

So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red. 

She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough. 

“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!” 

Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had. 

And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.

“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”

“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.

“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”

And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion. 

“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.

“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”

And Steve explodes. 

“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”

His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence. 

Nothing but utter silence follows. 

Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other. 

His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment. 

Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.

Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground. 

“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him. 

She expected everything but this. 

From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.

“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself. 

Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself. 

But she knows what she is feeling. 

Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you. 

A girl incapable of love. 

A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears. 

She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you. 

But how will she do that? 

There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again. 

He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for. 

“Fuck… I’m in love with her.” 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars

[ssajemilyprentiss]

In the air

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader 

Warnings: Smut, angsty-ish, reader is a bit cold/lacks emotion, Emily is a bit out of character lol (just this once), mentions of death (you know the regular cm stuff), sexual tension (or more like an attempt at it lol), curse words, eating out, vaginal fingering, nipple/breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, degradation, praise. Let me know if i forgot something - Also MINORS DNI

Summary: When you get brought in for questioning at the FBI and they have Emily interrogate you - the tension between you is instant.

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Um hello I guess, I’m back lol. It has been a hot minute since I both wrote and posted on here, and tbh I am a lil scared doing this again. Even tho I love posting and writing I have been so uninspired and unmotivated for so so long for some reason. But I will try to post more, can’t make any promises tho lol. 

The beginning of this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long and I wanted to do something with it so here I am doing it lmao

Also a reminder if it has been forgotten, english is not my first language - and I would deeply appreciate your thoughts and opinions on this, thanks besties <3

This was requested by the lovely Jas @rafetopia​​​ (you requested this such a long time ago so you have probably forgotten it, and i can’t find your ask either, sorry about that lmao) who wrote the following: “so what if you wrote a blurb or one shot with emily (or jj tbh i don’t really care i love them both) and there are some murders and the reader is the suspect and there’s a hot interrogation session (i’m a sucker for it) but the ending is up to you like if she’s innocent or not (only if you want to lol) i didn’t want to make it too specific so you still have freedom 😅”

I decided to go with Emily for this one, hope that’s fine Jas (also hope it's fine i added the smut lmao) thank you for this request and i hope this turns out the way you wanted to <3

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

You let out a deep sigh, crossing your legs for what felt like the hundredth time. The dark, pale interrogation room at the FBI headquarters was freezing cold and you feel yourself getting goosebumps from the chilly atmosphere. How long had you been sitting here? An hour? Two? Who knew? No one had told you anything yet, and none of the agents who showed up and arrested you had come in. Just as you’re about to uncross your legs the door opens and a grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent steps inside the room, her commanding presence immediately taking over the room. She takes a seat across from you, not saying anything. She stares deadpanned at you but all you can think about her eyes - dark brown, almost black, and you feel how you could get lost staring into them. The next thing you see is her nose, straight and pointy - one of her defining features for sure. Your eyes move on to her lips, they are full with a hint of red - red is definitely her color. You keep staring at her lips, biting your own lower lip as you do. You sit in silence for you don’t know how long, until she breaks the silence by clearing her throat. Your eyes shoot up from her lips into her eyes once again, and you see a sly smile forming on her mouth before she starts talking:

“My name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I’m a profiler with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit” she takes a breath before continuing “do you know why you’re here Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Actually I don’t” you reply, your lips forming a small smirk “but please agent, do enlighten me”

“You are here on suspicion of murder” 

“Murder?” you retort, raising an eyebrow

“Correct, murder” she replies, tossing pictures on the table - but you keep staring into her eyes. 

“Look at the pictures” she demands

You do, and see yourself in all of them - together with different women. You look up at the agent again with a blank expression. 

“Do you recognize the women in the pictures?” she asks

“Well yes I do” you reply

You point to one of them “That’s me right there” 

“‘I mean the other women” she retorts annoyed

“Oh, silly me” you chuckle “well yes I recognize them too”

“Go on” she says

“Well, as you can see I’ve met them all” 

“Doing what?”

“Do you really wanna know that, Agent Prentiss?” 

“Go on” she encourages you “What about her?” she asks, holding up one of the photos

You look at the photo for a while, it’s of you and one of the girls you had met - what was her name? Mia? Sophia?

“She was a pleasure”

“How come all the women you have met turned up dead just a few days after meeting you?” she asks, her tone accusatory 

“Don’t know” you reply, shrugging your shoulders

“This isn’t a game Y/N, people are dead” she says, venom lacing her tone

“Don’t you think I know that?” you scoff “well I didn’t kill them”

“Where were you on these dates and times?” she asks, sliding a piece of paper with them written down towards you

“Well I can tell you that on all these dates I was very busy” 

“With what?” she asks

You bite your lip again before answering “Well I was with my very good friend Izzie”

She sighs “And you were doing?”

You lean back in your chair, keeping your eyes fixed on hers as you do “You know the usual - shopping, drinking coffee, eating”

“Eating what?” she asks

You chuckle lightly “We were eating a lot of things, if you know what I mean” you say as you raise an eyebrow at her. You see how she takes a second, thinking about what you’re saying, but if your answer startles her - she doesn’t give it away. 

“To be fair Y/N” Emily sighs “I’m getting kinda tired of this” 

“Likewise” you reply, crossing your arms

Emily leans across the table, staring into your eyes. Her hands firmly gripping the table, and you imagine them gripping your body instead. You are woken from your fantasy by her hot breath right next to your ear. You feel the hairs on your arms raising and how wetness starts pooling between your legs.

“So why won’t you just tell me the truth, like a good girl” she whispers, nipping lightly at your ear

You take a sharp breath, exhaling shakily and not daring to move a muscle. 

“Tell me Y/N” she whispers again “do you want to be my good girl?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. She chuckles lightly and tuts

“None of that now, I want to hear you say it” she whispers

You whimper lightly and swallow, just as you’re about to open your mouth the door opens and you and Emily get away from each other, she sits down in her chair composing herself. You sit back in your chair, feeling out of breath. You lock eyes with a tall grumpy agent who stares deadpanned at you. 

“You’re free to go Ms. Y/L/N” he says

“What?” you ask, shocked

“You’re free to go” he repeats “your alibi checks out”

You get up from the chair and as you’re about to leave the room you stop right by Emily’s ear and whisper:

“That was fun, we should do it again sometime” 

You don’t give her time to reply, swiftly exiting the room. On the way out you feel all the other agents staring at you as you walk past them, but all you can do is smirk - thinking back at the moment you just had with Emily - and how you need to get rid of the wetness between your legs the first thing you do when you get home. 

/

The sun was shining outside the BAU, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, picking it up you see your uber is on its way. You close your eyes and exhale once more, but before you know it someone is behind you and pushes you against the wall of the building, their hand on your throat. You feel your air supply being cut off and open your eyes in panic, and there in front of you is the grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent once more. She releases the pressure against your throat a little, but keeps her hand steady. You gasp for air as she leans towards you. 

“Listen here you little slut” she says “I don’t think you’re as innocent as you make it look, but to be honest right now I don’t give a fuck”

You don’t answer, focusing on your breathing

“But what I’m more interested in right now is to keep our little party going” she says, backing away “If you want to?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, but can tell from the look on her face that she is serious. You chuckle, looking down at your feet with a sly smile - you look up again, meeting her brown eyes and reply:

“I’d never thought you’d ask”

/ 

She pulls you inside her apartment, dragging you towards her bedroom. She pushes you against the wall once again and presses her lips against yours. You moan into her mouth as your hands caress her body, reaching her breasts. 

“Let me take your shirt off” you pant into her mouth

She pulls away and you pull her shirt over her head, and then do the same with yours. You take off her bra while she does the same with yours. She trails her kisses along your neck, and you throw your head back, giving her full access. She stops by your pulse point, sucking hard on it. You close your eyes and moan as she does, your hands finding her breasts. You start rubbing one of her nipples between your fingers, causing her to moan against your neck. She keeps trailing kisses further down on your body and reaches your breasts. She takes one of your nipples in her mouth, circling her tongue against it. 

“Holy fuck” you breathe out “keep doing that”

She chuckles lightly against your nipple before pinching it lightly with her teeth, making you yelp. 

“Lay down on the bed” she says

You obey, laying down on your back

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” she asks, smirking

You lick your lips and nod, staring up at her. 

She lowers herself, trailing kisses along your stomach down towards your pussy. You feel your clit pulsing and wetness dripping between your legs. 

“Spread those legs for me” she says, and you obey instantly “let me see that pretty pussy of yours” 

She starts kissing your inner thighs slowly, just brushing over your clit lightly when she switches from one leg to the other. 

“Please” you pant, putting your hands in her hair directing her towards your clit “Please stop teasing and fuck me”

“As you wish princess” she says and start sucking forcefully on your clit, making you moan hard of the instant pleasure she gives you

“Such a good girl” she says against your clit, and you thrust your hips forward, looking for more. She chuckles softly and starts licking up and down your slit, and she easily slips two fingers into you - thrusting them slowly. 

“Harder please” you pant “I’m gonna cum”

She picks up her pace, her thrusts becoming more determined, and your eyes starts fluttering from the overwhelming pleasure that is approaching you

“Cum for me” she husks and circle your clit once more, your orgasm washing over you like a wave of pleasure 

“Fuck” you breathe out as she starts lapping up your juices

She kiss you and you taste yourself on her tongue, and then you flip her over - with her underneath you this time

“My turn” you coo and lick your lips, pinning her wrists above her head as you caress one of her nipples with your tongue

"So perfect" you murmur "Perfect tits. Perfect ass. Perfect everything" 

You work your way down her body, kissing her 

“Please” she breathes heavily “I need you”

“Where do you need me?” you ask, kneading her breasts once more 

“Inside” she whimpers “your fingers inside”

You lick a line along her slit, tasting her wetness 

“My my” you chuckle “do I make you this wet?” 

“Yes” she groans “please just fuck me”

You slide two fingers inside of her, thrusting them slowly as you lower yourself towards her clit and take it in your mouth. She moans deeply and arches her back, and you start picking up your pace. 

“Please” she breathes “need more”

You add another finger smoothly, and let her adjust a little before you start thrusting again, and you curl your fingers at her g-spot and start circling your tongue on her clit again - feeling her walls clenching against your fingers

“Yes” she cries out “just like that, I’m cumming” 

You pick up the pace, flicking her clit harder and thrust your finger faster. 

You feel her orgasm taking over, and she cries out from pleasure. You keep thrusting, helping her ride out her orgasm. When she has calmed down you slip out your fingers and take them in your mouth, cleaning her juices from them - and you moan once again from her taste. 

The two of you crash down on the bed next to each other, panting heavily. 

“That was good” she whispers

“So fucking good” you reply and she chuckles at you, turning her head towards you

You stare into Emily’s dark brown eyes once again, the first thing you had noticed about her when she walked into that interrogation room what felt like an eternity ago. Whatever lies behind those beautiful brown eyes is one mystery you would spend your entire life solving. 

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Taglist: @rafetopia / @ssa-sapphic  / @sweetmidnights / @alexbllake / @emilyprsntiss / @sleep-deprived-athlete / @jemilyssecretlover /  @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos / @cmslvtt / @phatcrackdad / @rookie-prentiss (this taglist is sooo old, so i'm sorry in advance if you don't want to be tagged, just let me know and i'll delete you <3)

[kandyzee]

These scenes always make me think about Fionas and Frank's relationship pre s1 so I'm gonna talk about it.

The way she flinches and makes herself as small as possible HURTS me.

I think its important to put that she doesn't have the same reaction when men she doesn't know shout at her. Fiona can confidently get into confrontations with strangers. This is why I link it back to Frank. Fiona isn't scared cause she being screamed at its because someone she loves and cares about is doing it.

Whenever Frank's physical abuse is brought up, people almost always go to Ian as an example as he's the one who we see it happen to most. This is fine, but I think because Ian is such a clear representation, people often don't think about the other siblings.

Frank was likely much more violent towards fiona than we see in the show. I have a few reasons for thinking this.

First would ofc be the way she acts in these scenes. She has grown up trying to hide away from Frank's violent behaviour. She knows how these things start, and it's normally with shouting. In my experience, people don't go straight to hitting. They will throw things at the other side of the room, then it's in ur direction but not quite at you. Then It's screaming at someone in their personal space and punching near their head. Fiona had to deal with that where the others didn't. I'm not saying one or the other is worse, but they are different experiences. Fiona didn't know when Frank would finally snap and actually hurt her. Not knowing is a whole different fear. This explains why her brothers screaming makes her so scared.

Second is that fiona was younger and not able to defend herself. Frank didn't face any consequences for his actions. Who was going to stop him when fiona was meant to be the one in charge ? Frank is always less violent towards the youngest kids, like how he hits Ian but not Debbie or Carl in the early seasons, but once Debbie is older, he's violent with her too. Fiona is the oldest, meaning there was no other option than to take his anger out on her. As they all get older, fiona is able to stand up for herself. This reminds me of the "never hit my kid again" scene. The way she talks to Frank so confidently in this scene makes me think she has a long history of standing up to him.

We all know Frank favourite is Fiona. This means he was more comfortable hitting her. Similar to the way mickey is Terry's favourite, Frank's higher expectations of Fiona lead to her disappointing him more. As fiona gets older and her need for his love seems to die down (like debbies), Frank starts to resent her. Fiona is supposed to be a daddies girl. She's meant to love him even more than he does her, but she doesn't anymore. Frank is her dad. He doesn't act like it. Fiona acts out to desperately try to make him act like a dad. Instead of her putting pillows under his head, making him dinner alongside her siblings, she's distant and rude. This just ends up making him scream and punch more.

Now fiona is grown. She's 21 and almost never the target of Frank's violence, but she's still trying to protect her siblings from him. A few years passed, and now her brothers are grown. The boys she raised, protected and loved, the ones who are meant to be her rocks, are screaming at her. In her face the same way Frank, the man who was supposed to raise and love her, did. She is scared in the same way she was when she was 5 years old. She doesn't know if or when she's gonna be hit.

I think fionas childhood is something people don't think about in depth enough. Anyway love her forever.

[faghubby]

Taught to make her happy, and found mine

"Paul, I Jamie told me you where having trouble adjusting to married life" my mother in law Helen said. Jamie had offered her mother my help with helping her get ready for a large sale. Jamie had insisted on driving me to her mothes house and would pick me up after work. Rather then letting me drive myself.

"She did?" I said surprised "It's nothing just getting used to living together" I told her down playing the turmoil our house had become in such a short period of time. We had been married for several months and had not had sexual relations since the honeymoon. Not to mention the fights that erupted from the simplest of things. Towel paper roll on the wrong way, a sock that fell on the floor when I missed the basket, a bowl I left in the sink.

"I can help you" Helen states. I peeked up and looked at her.

"Jamie just expects things a very specific way. Probably my fault" Helen smiled.

"Any insight would be amazing" I told her. Helen suddenly came up behind me and cupped my ass with both hands. I dropped the box I had just lifted.

"Helen, I. You are very beautiful" I babbled my hands shaking. I turned she was still very close to me.

"Thank you" Helen said her hand unbuckled my belt.

"Helen, I can't. Jamie. I love your daughter" I continued to babbling. My body reacted to her in a different way. As my cock throbbed in my pants.

"I raised Jonathan. To be a perfect husband. I started when he was a disobedient teenager. Kathy and him are so happy" Helen told me as she pushed my pants down. My dick flopped out pointing at her.

Had she slept with her own son? I thought. When Helen sat in a chair nearby she pulled me to her lap. Even more confused she smacked my ass.

"You need to learn your place, to learn Jamie's place over you" Helen smacked my ass again. I was not sure what was going on. The third smack was much harder. She had used something. I jumped but Helen held me in place her leg intertwined with mine. Three quick smacks.

"You have to learn to embrace submitting to Jamie. No more arguing with her. No more slacking, expecting her to clean uo after you" Helen told me. Another three smacks my ass and back of my thighs stung. Tears formed in my eyes.

"Helen please" I begged.

"You are still excited, you like this?" Helen teased her hand actually cupped my balls from behind. I quivered.

"You do, that will please Jamie. You should ask her to spank you" Helen told me another three smacks.

"Do you want relief" Helen asked stroking my cock again pulling it back wards behind me. I just moaned.

"Kneel on the floor and play with yourself" Helen told me letting me role off her lap. "Look up here" Helen said she hiked up her dress and spread her legs so I was looking straight at her white panties.

"You like looking at my panties?" Helen asked. I just nodded.

"Look closer" I leaned in. "Closer" Helen said as she guided my head within an inch of her panties.

"Smell me" Helen said as I stroked my self to her. I came spilling my seed on the floor.

"Jamie, will want to know all about how you got excited being spanked, how you came smelling my panties" Helen told me. Helen made me pull up my pants and clean up my mess. Then insisted I get back to work.

She was much stricter, no longer asking me to move things, but ordering. Then I wasn't fast enough, doing it correctly. I just would look down and apologize and tried to please her. I accidentally knocked over a pile of clothes. Helen grabbed me by the ear. She again bent me over this time over a table. She didn't remove my pants though instead she grabbed a belt from a pile and smacked me a dozen times.

"Jamie will take control over you, she can lead you" Helen told me as I rubbed my ass as I stood. Helen then had me sit down on the couch. She pulled me close. I rested my head on her lap.

"I feel that the only way to make Jamie happy is for you to understand that you are hers now." Helen told me. Gentle stroking my hair.

"I don't know, I mean I don't want her to spank me" I said softly.

"But you do, you didn't resist at all and you love Jamie." Helen told me. "I can help you" she stood. And pulled off her panties. I was even more shocked. She pushed the damp cotton into my hand.

"To remember today" Helen told me. We went back to work. But now I couldn't stop thinking about Helen this summer dress and no panties underneath. Several times I snuck a wiff of my mother in laws panties. I worked all day was covered in dust and sweat by the time Jamie returned. She went straight inside to talk with her mother before she came out to see me.

"Paulie time to go" Jamie told me. She went right to the driver's side and drove us home. "You let mom spank you?" Jamie asked confused as she drove.

"Not sure let her is the right term" I responded.

"She used to spank Jonathan and I when we where kids. I hated that" Jamie told me. She fell silent as she thought about it.

After we got home and I showered Jamie came up to me.

"Why did mom spank you?" She asked.

"I .... we ... she bought up how we where fighting alot. And how I needed to adapt. How you could help me." I stumbled over my own words. Jamie didn't say a word. Just walked past me into the bathroom. A few minutes later she returned and kissed me.

"Mom may of been right" she smiled. I had been careful to put my clothes in the hamper and put down the bath mat so not to get the floor all wet. I had also wiped down the glass shower doors.

"I been bangimg my head for months and mom spanks you one time and it all sinks in" she kissed me and rubbed my crotch. But I stayed soft.

"What? It's been a while" Jamie asked.

"I um well" I couldn't tell her.

"What? Tell me" Jamie was now mad.

"Your mom, well she. It has been a long time" I rambled

"You slept with my mom! " She yelled

"No, no, Helen had me smell her panties and I touched myself" I mumbled. I pulled her mom's panties out of my pocket.

"You did what?" Jamie asked again. I sat her down and told her everything. Hoping she would understand. She got up and called her mother. At first they seemed to be fighting. When Jamie Came back though she held a pale blue thong.

"Do I smell better then my mother?" She asked pushing them against my nose. They where damper and much more pugnant then her mothers.

"Yes, baby" I moaned inhaling her. Jamie let her skirt fall and she was naked from the waist down. She guided me to bed. Where I licked and sucked her lips and clit until she moaned and then screamed for me to stop. I was rock hard now. And wanted Jamie.

"Mom said you need disapline" Jamie told me. That is why we are having so many arguments. She told me ignoring my advances.

"Stop a moment so we can talk" she scolded as I tried to kiss her again. I sat back.

"I don't know about spanking you. But maybe a time out" Jamie suggested, I was even more confused.

"If you can't follow the rules you go without. Like now I am not happy about what happened with my mother. Prehaps you need to wait." She rubbed my erection to emphasize her point. I moaned.

"Or if you want to go out with the guys, shall we say you better have followed all the rules that week" Jamie suggested. I found this all very erotic and wanted her even more.

"Mom needs help again tomorrow" Jamie stated. I just nodded. Jamie was surprised at my agreement to all this.

"Mom said one more thing" she grabbed the small bag Jamie had bought home.

"Mom thought you might benefit from" Jamie smiled as she pulled a pair of panties from the bag. I just looked at her not understanding.

"She called it panty disapline, when Jonathan was a teenager and was running wild. She made him wear panties as punishment." Jamie giggled. I couldn't imagine my brother in law wearing panties.

"I don't know" I said scared at the idea someone would notice

"Well I guess we could try spankings instead" Jamie suggested. I was still unconvinced.

"Okay, tomorrow as punishment for that gross act you did with my mother you will wear panties all day. And if all goes well we throw them away" Jamie told me. It seemed fair so I agreed. I washed the dishes after dinner. Made sure everything was tidy before going to bed. I guess I could change and help more. Take more care in what I did around the house. I thought I laid next to Jamie so wanting to make love but she just cuddled and told me to wait.

The next morning Jamie had me wear the panties her mother had sent home with me. They where a soft satin material. Yellow with a blue bow on the lacy waistband. They where full size and held everything easily. Jamie said nothing as I slid them on. I thought Jamie was going to be with me all day. But as soon as we arrived. Jamie found reasons to leave. I was alone with Helen again.

Helen walked right up behind me and pulled my pants back to check to see it I wore the panties.

"Such a good boi" she told me. I basically emptied her attic, and hall closet. As I carried a box into the garage I tripped.

"Fuck!" I swore. Helen came running. I had spilled the contents of the box. Breaking some old decorations.

"Paul are you okay?" Helen asked first.

"Yeah, the stupid fucking step" I said. She smacked me across the face.

"There is no need for that language" she scolded me.

"What the hell, Helen" I shot back. She grabbed me by the ear and dragged me inside.

"Take those shorts down young man, you need a new lesson in how to speak to a woman" she ordered. I was shaking as I did just that. My shorts dropped and I stood before her in my yellow panties. She sat in a dining room chair and motioned for me to lay across her lap. Ashamed I did as she said. Just as I did Jamie walked in. Helen had wrapped her leg around mine to keep me still. I tried to get up when Jamie came in.

The first blow struck, it was something hard followed byanother. I forgot about Jamie and tried to fpget away. Three four five smacks

"You cant swear around woman, it isnt very polite" Helen told me. " And you broke my things" Helen added.

Helen delivered 20 blows before she let me go. I rolled onto the floor. I looked up to see Helen legs spread her skirt had rode up,

"Get up" Jamie said pulling my hair. I stood and Jamie looked at me and laughed.

"Is that from moms panties you where peeking at or the spanking" Jamie looked down at my throbbing erection. Helen had a solution.

"Here put this on and stand in the corner" Helen said handing me a flower printed skirt. I tried to argue.

"No mom is right" Jamie told me. I did as she said and pulled the skirt on. And went to the corner. Jamie came over after a few minutes and lifted the skirt and pulled down the back of the panties to inspect my red ass.

"I think maybe I didn't understand everything last night" Jamie said and left me standing there. I listened as Helen and Jamie talked about me.

"He craves to be disaplined" Helen told Jamie.

"I just wanted a normal marriage" Jamie said

"No you didn't, that's why his behavior bothered you" Helen pointed out. "Look how happy Lisa is with Jonathan" Helen said. I didn't understand Jonathan was a great guy. I don't think his little petite wife could spank him.

"Paulie make us some tea" Helen ordered. I hesitated then went to make tea.

"There is a cake on the counter as well" Helen suggested. I bought over the cake and three plates.

"What's this? Did I ask you to join us?" Helen asked. I lowered my head and removed the third plate. Then bought them tea. Helen got up to use the bathroom. As I put down the sugar and cream Jamie's hand slid under my skirt. I was still rock hard. She stroked me through the panties ever so gently.

"If I told you to go out to the garage and continue dressed like this you would wouldn't you" Jamie teased. I swallowed hard and mumbled yes.

"Go put your shorts back on we are going home" Jamie told me. She made me get changed right in front of her and Helen who had returned. Jamie drove us home in complete silence. I was to ashamed to speak. As soon as we where in the house Jamie clothes came off as she basically sprinted towards the bedroom. Dragging me along. She laid on the bed naked and pushed my head in between her thighs.

"Yes" she moaned she was so wet. She came very quickly but made me keep going till I made her cum a second time.

"Strip, no wait go pick out a dress from my closet and put it on" she told me" I got up reluctantly.

"Jamie" I whined.

"Do it now!" She grabbed my belt as a warning. I went to her closet. I stripped down to just the panties and found a green dress I always liked on her. It was kinda a sun dress. Light and flowing yet long enough that it came to my knees. Jamie yelled at me several times to hurry up. I finally emerged.

"OH perfect" she told me. "Now since you been so bad lately you will wear it all day. While you clean up around here. And you better not stain that dress" she told me. Jamie found a ton of chores for me to do. All while she sat and read a book. Or talked on the phone.

She even had me make her lunch. That night before bed she had me shower and allowed me to but back on "boy undies"

Jamie sat me down and explained the new rules. Rules to a happy marriage

"Mom is right, I need to be in charge. Not an equal partner. So I sent you info on a Female Led Marriage. Basically you get to express your opinions if I ask. But I will decide everything. But on top of that you lack disapline. And seem to like being humiliated. So I think we can add things like today to the list of punishments. Along with being grounded. A curfew, an allowance." Jamie told me. I just sat quietly.

"First thing is truth, absolute truth. No secrets. I am having an issue with how easy you allowed yourself to be spanked and pantied." Jamie told me. "Have you ever worn girlie things before?" I shook my head no. But couldn't look at her. Jamie grabbed my chin gently and made me look in her eyes.

"Paul have you ever done girlie things, gay things?" She asked a slight smile appeared on her face.

"yes" I whispered. Jamie just held my chin. I knew she wanted more.

"In high school there was a bully. Craig he lived down the street and one day. In his garage" I told her.

Jamie's eyes softened and pulled me close.

"What did he do to you?" She asked comforting me.

"He had me suck his dick" I told her I had never told another soul

"He forced you?" She asked.

"Kinda, but no" I told her. She just held me. "He used to pick on me call me a faggot. And one day he just pulled his shorts down and shoved his dick in my face. It was a joke I think. But I opened my mouth ti tell him off and he pushed his cock in. I froze and he just held me there for a moment.

"Go ahead Faggot" he said. And I sucked his cock.

"Did you enjoy it?" Jamie asked softly.

"I didn't think so at first, but after I wasn't mad about it either" I told her.

"And what happened between you and Craig?" Jamie asked.

"Well" I fell silent. Jamie pushed back and looked in my eyes again.

"It wasn't just once was it?" She smiled.

"No, everyday for the whole summer" I blushed.

"You sucked his cock everyday?" Jamie giggled. I nodded.

"Sometimes twice even three times" I told her. I was rock hard asi told her.

"How? Where?" Jamie said excited "oh my God did you swallow?"

"Whenever he wanted, in the woods. Garage, his house, my house, he would just pull me somewhere and pull it out. I didn't swallow at first but then later." I confessed.

"Did he ever?" Jamie's hand grabbed my ass. I just shook my head no. Jamie continued with questions he never returned the favor, it must be more then a hundred times. He was maybe 6 to 61/2 inches. Jamie continued with other sexual partners I had. I had told her I had been with 8 woman when we met. It was actually 2. For over an hour Jamie got my true full sexul history including my masterbation habits.

"There is so many secrets and lies. Take off you underwear and put on the other pair of panties mom gave you" she ordered. "It may be weeks before I let you wear boi undies again" I grabbed the bag and pulled out a pair of ridiculous pink panties with the whole ass was ruffles.

"Put them on" Jamie ordered when I hesitated. She then had me bend over the foot of the bed. Pulled the panties down and wrapped some kind of elastic band around my balls and cock. She then gave me 12 smacks with my belt. I was in tears bent over unable to stand when she finished. She released my cock and I came all over myself. She then sat on my face and had me bring her to yet another orgasm.

Jamie continued to explore a Wife Led Marriage as she called it. I took a much more submissive role. Way beyond the sexual aspects. Punishments became common but thennso did praise. But even the praise came from a level of superior from her.

"You did a very good job detailing my car" or "The house had never been cleaner" I took the praise with pride even knowing it was somehow belittling. But punishment could also be writing an apology letter to a friend for a off color comment. That Jamie found inappropriate. Our relationship changes where impossible to hide from our friends and family. And soon led to questions and comments.

I would just say I was never happier, and had excepted my proper place. Jamie on the other hand would explain how I loved a firm hand. How she spanked me, pantied me, and I did all the chores around the house. And treated her like a queen.

Our sex life was amazing as well. She taught me how her pleasure came first. Sometimes even dening me. We had sex in positions she enjoyed. She taught me stamina. I was able to resist my release until she told me to. She never ever considered sucking my cock again. But I gave her oral almost daily. If she wanted a massage.i would take classes to learn how to give her one properly. When she wanted to eat better I took classes on healthy cooking.

One day she commented how the heels she had worn hurt her feet. I made the comment maybe she should where shorter shoes. Trying to be helpful. I spent the next week learning to walk, dance, even fuck in high heels. She added a remote control vibrating butt plug after the first few days. I learned just to kneel and rub her feet if she wore heels on any particular day.

I also knew about the affairs, well most of them. Over the years. I never mentioned them. Just excepted it. Until our 15 year wedding anniversary. I had planned a big party. When Jamie arrived almost 2 hours later. I was frustrated. After the party as we where getting ready for bed. I bought it up. Trying at first to just express my disappointment.

"Paulie, I already apologized " Jamie said as a warning. That's when I lost it.

"I worked so hard to make it all perfect and what you had to go get laid first" I shot at her in frustration. Jamie calmly sat down and listened to me.

"Anything else you like to get off your chest?" She asked.

"Yes, my allowance. I asked about a raise several weeks ago" I added. Then stooped. I loomed back at Jamie. I had been yelling I had not even realized it.

"Jamie, I am sorry I just" I rushed to her and dropped to my knees." I am just always afraid you will leave me for one of them" I wimpered. She played with my hair.

"I fuck men, real men. Men who will dominate me, use me. Because I know it's not in your nature. I guess I never realized you knew. But Paulie I will never leave you. I love you" she assured me.

"But this disrespect and trying to make me feel guilty into give you a raise in your allowance" she said. "This I cannot let go"

"I should not of kept this part of our marriage a secret though." She said and just git up and went to bed. For days I wondered what she would impose as punishment. Till one night she came home a little late but not alone.

"This is Malcolm" Jamie told me. I large black man in a very expensive suit shook my hand. "He has been traveling all day. I bet he would love one of your foot massages. Or maybe a whole massage" Jamie suggested. Malcolm started to undress as o stood there.

"Don't just stand there help him with his shoes" Jamie said. I dropped to my knees but as I looked up he was shirtless. His abs looked like a washboard. And he dropped his pants.

"Start with that big muscle there" Jamie told me. I looked at her terrified.

"You wanted no more secrets, wanted a way to raise your allowance" Jamie told me. I reached up and stroked his cock.

"Paulie used to be an excellent cocksucker but he has never shown me what he can do with a real cock" Jamie told Malcolm as she pushed my head towards his rapidly hardening cock.

"Get him good and hard so he can fuck me again" Jamie told me. When I did I stood and watched as he bent Jamie over the couch and fucked her hard and fast finishing all over her ass.

"Lick me clean" Jamie told me and I did as Malcolm laughed got dressed and left.

"You where right I will include you from now on. And $25 bonus for every cock you get off" Jamie told me. But then had me wear a plug and panties for the next two weeks. Wherever I went. Along with a very long spanking.

[teapartyprincess4two]

II. Powerful

classification: angst, fluff

warnings: use of y/n

PREV, NEXT

—

Every year the social season manages to drain you beyond belief. When your mother was still alive, she’d flaunt you in front of every eligible bachelor in Solara in hopes that you’d find your one true love and produce an heir.

Courting was an easy enough process, a process that perhaps you would’ve enjoyed if you weren’t royalty. Your mother always managed to exhaust you with the same words, “A Queen is only as powerful as her King.”

To this day, even after her passing, those words cause your eyes to roll so far back into your head it’s a wonder how they don’t fall out. So much hypocrisy was laced within those words, especially coming from a woman who ruled without a king for decades.

You were powerful with or without a king, that you were certain of. If your mother was able to do it while raising two daughters, you’d surely manage now that your sister was entering the cusp of adulthood.

This year Selma has made her debut into society, a milestone she’s had her sights on for quite some time now.

Selma, unlike you, believes in romance and love. She’s extremely determined to find a husband who’ll bring her butterflies, write her love letters, and take her for who she is.

Every eligible bachelor has come knocking at the castle door in hopes of impressing Selma enough to make it out with her hand in marriage.

Yesterday, she was kept busy entertaining possible suitors in the tea room, and today wasn’t any different. Of course, you could’ve sent Martina to chaperone her, but you’d be damned if your sister gave herself away to anyone less than worthy.

The sound of Martina’s heels clicking against marble flooring becomes louder as she nears the tea room. Her small figure comes into view, bringing your attention from the letters and feather quills on your desk to the door frame. You’re fully expecting her to announce the arrival of another one of Selma’s callers, but her next words surprise you.

“You have a visitor, Your Highness. It is a…” she says, pausing to read from a small piece of paper, “…a Lord Sturniolo.”

Apprehensively, you gather your papers and send Selma, who sits on a nearby couch reading a book, an inquisitive look.

“Have you been courting a Lord Sturniolo, Selma?” You ask, filtering through a mental list of eligible bachelors in hopes of putting a face to the name.

“With you as a sister it’s hard to believe I’ve been courted at all,” Selma replies sarcastically.

Just as you’re about to quip back with a smart remark, Martina interrupts. “He claims to be a visitor, Your Highness.” She places special emphasis on ‘visitor,’ but you’re still not sure what to make of it.

“Martina, you know how I feel about visitors during the social season. If they haven’t been invited, please turn them away,” you say as you stand from your seat and walk closer to your sister.

“Oh, please! Don’t be so hardened, sister. Surely this…” Selma pauses and looks towards Martina for a moment.

“Lord Sturniolo.”

“Ah, yes. Thank you Martina,” Selma turns back to face you, “Surely this Lord Sturniolo is here to deliver some important news. Perhaps it is exciting news. Maybe even life changing!”

You roll your eyes, Selma always tried to make you see the light in a world full of darkness. She was too naive for her own good.

“Either way, I do not enjoy receiving unannounced and uninvited visitors,” you reply.

Martina speaks again, “I’m sorry, ma’am. He said the visit would be quick, but it did seem important. I can turn him away if you’d prefer it?”

A sigh falls past your lips. How rude would you be if you turned away a visitor, a lord at that? Sure, you had the respect that came with wearing a bejeweled crown on your head, but humility was still your strong suit.

“No, that won’t be necessary. You can send him in.”

As soon as you give her the confirmation, Martina turns on her heels and flutters out of the room quickly like a busy honeybee.

You’re anxious, mostly because you know this visitor will be looking at you as some sort of authority, but also because you’re not sure what would warrant such an unexpected visit. Selma stands next to you, looping an arm around yours in solidarity, and working towards soothing your nerves with kind words.

“Be calm, sister. I’m here with you.” You exhale deeply, immediately feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

“Thank you, Selma. I’d be lost without you.”

The sound of metal clanging becomes louder as the unknown man approaches the tea room, accompanied by the all too familiar sound of Martina’s clacking heels.

A man with long black hair enters the room, his silver armor shining brightly against the sunlight that illuminates the room. His sword is tucked away in its respective sheath and his helmet is tucked under his arm.

He’s quick to show his respect with a bow. He faces you first, “Your majesty.”

You return the sentiment with a curtsy, “Lord Sturniolo.”

“Princess Selma.” He bows in front of your sister as well, and you swear she almost swoons and faints as she begins to curtsy.

“Quite a beautiful estate you two share. Quite a beautiful country, actually,” he comments, eyes dancing over Selma’s figure a little too long. Selma must like the attention because her cheeks turn a rosy red and her eyelashes bat until she’s almost fluttering away.

“Thank you, My Lord. Kind words go a long way in Solara,” Selma says.

You clear your throat. “To what do we the owe the pleasure of this visit, Lord Sturniolo?”

“Yes, My Lord. Are you not aware that it is calling hour?” Selma asks, taking a flirtatious tone.

Selma’s playing all of her cards. You see it in the way she bats her eyes.

Maybe it’s because you’re her older sister, and the Queen at that, but you cringe. You can’t suppress the awkward, interrupting cough no matter how hard you try. And you definitely can’t escape the cold glare she sends your way.

Chris sends Selma a smirk, before returning his attention to you. “I was not aware that it is calling hour. Had I known, I would’ve made this trip on pleasure instead of business.”

Chris pulls a letter out, “I’ve come to deliver an invitation. My older brother is to be crowned in a week time.”

Your take the letter, delicate fingers peeling it open. “Thank you for your kind gesture, Lord Sturniolo. I will hand this over to the councilmen and have them arrange everything immediately.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving me,” an awkward pause interrupts him mid sentence as he debates whether or not to ask to stay. Chris debates against it when he notices the impatient expression that paints your face. “I think I should be on my way now if I’d like to make it home before morning.”

He bows, looking Selma up and down one last time before turning on his heels. One of his hands tussles through his long hair, slicking it back before throwing on his helmet.

Selma points at him with her eyes, silently begging for you to ask him to stay. ‘No,’ you mouth, sending her a stern look.

But even the Queen has a weakness.

“Please, sister,” she begs almost inaudibly. Her big doe eyes glisten as her bottom lip juts out. *1

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes.

Just as Chris is about to exit the room, you stop him. “Wait, Lord Sturniolo. Stay and join us tonight for dinner. I’ll have the cooks prepare something special for tonight, you must be hungry after your journey.”

Chris smiles, he was hungry actually.

“Thank you, Your Highness. A warm meal would do me good.” His voice is muffled behind the helmet, but his gratitude is evident regardless.

—

Silver cutlery dances along your plate as you engage in light conversation with your sister and Chris. It’s not like Selma’s flirting will let you ask Chris any meaningful questions.

You hate to play the ‘older sister/ Queen’ card, but Selma’s flirting is getting out of hand and you have a multitude of doubts swirling in your mind.

“If I may ask My Lord, do they make a habit of sending you to deliver messages in Eclipsum?” Selma asks as she digs her knife into a particularly tough piece of meat.

Chris is mid bite. Throughout the entire meal, he’s struggled to balance his hunger with his desire to chat your sister up. So far, he’s remained hungry.

He swallows dryly, a calloused hand begging for patience.

“Eclipsum’s undergoing a necessary change at the moment, Princess. I’m not usually in charge of delivering messages, but when they’re as important as this one, the future King trusts no one other than me,” he replies, immediately returning to the food in front of him.

Selma is ready with a reply, but if you want to take any part of in this conversation then you need to cut in as soon as possible. So you do, “Why is this message so important, My Lord? I take it your brother’s coronation was announced long before the social season began.”

“Yes, well that was my eldest brother Nick,” he replies mindlessly through mouthfuls of food.

Curious about what he means, you press further. “Is it not the eldest brother who inherits the crown?”

Chris coughs, trying to stop himself from choking on his food as he realizes what he just let slip. You can tell he’s becoming nervous, but the truth will come out eventually.

“Yes, well… you see,” Chris takes a deep breath, looking up at you through the hair that falls over his eyes. He places his utensils on the table, racking his brain for the correct response.

“You see, Your Highness, complications have risen in Eclipsum. I cannot go into too much detail, but I can say that the crown has since been inherited by my second eldest brother.”

Selma looks just as shocked as you.

“May I ask why the invitation was extended to us, My Lord? Solara and Eclipsum have never been necessarily involved when it comes to these matters,” Selma chimes in.

“Powerful countries must form alliances should they want to remain powerful,” Chris replies, offering you and Selma a quick smile before digging back into his meal.

—

Crashing waves are heard from the Eclipsum shore, a fog forming as the water slaps against the muddy sand. The sun is setting, slowly disappearing past the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful shade of purple. Matt sits alone, the old wooden dock beneath him groaning as he sways one leg back and forth in the water. His other leg is propped up, a lazy arm resting there to serve as a pillow for his head. His long hair settles just under his eyes, shielding his vision enough so that he only sees the black ocean that pushes and pulls around him. Matt’s mind is plagued with stress and worry, the only reason he’s even here is to escape the reality that awaits him back at the castle. This is meant to be his happy place, it is his happy place, yet he’s anything but.

The sudden sound of trotting hooves rings in his ears, alerting him of someone’s unexpected arrival and breaking him from his thoughts. “Matt?” a tentative voice asks, pulling on the horses’ reign hard enough for it to stop. There are only two people in this entire kingdom who refer to him by his this, everyone else opting for far more formal titles.

Reluctantly, Matt averts his eyes from the ocean, looking up to see none other than his youngest brother, Chris. The moon has replaced the sun’s place in the sky, the soft luminescence reflecting on the suit of armor that adorns Chris’s body. The white stallion Chris sits on adds to his strong, knightly demeanor, and if Matt didn’t know any better, he might’ve let himself get intimidated by the long sword that hangs on the armor’s sheath.

Matt doesn’t have to reply, or ask what Chris is here for, he already knows. Using one hand, he pushes himself off the wooden dock, a low grunt following as he dusts off dirt and debris. His attire completely juxtaposes Chris’s, a flowy, long sleeve white top flapping in the wind as he walks over to his brother. Matt places a gentle hand on the stark white stallion that stands before him, caressing its face before finally providing Chris with his full attention.

“Get on. I’ll take you back,” Chris instructs, a strong chin pointing to the rear end of the horse. Matt mulls it over, deciding whether or not to accept the invitation, before deciding that he’d rather prolong the process, “No it’s okay, thank you. I think I’ll walk.”

Chris shrugs his shoulders, steering the mare back into the forest before whipping the leather rope so that the horse picks up a steady pace. Matt watches as Chris disappears behind the treeline the further the horse trudges into the forest.

Slowly, Matt begins the long walk back to the castle, each footstep being met with the bioluminescence of the ground beneath his feet. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he takes one last look behind him, a faint, faraway kingdom coming into view.

For a second he wonders what it would be like to live there instead, but shrugs the thought off as the fog that rises from the ocean completely engulfs the view. *2

—

Soft waves slap against the boat as it comes to a stop on a foggy, moonlit shore. You pace back and forth downstairs under the deck, attempting to regulate your breathing with deep breaths that become ragged quickly.

Martina flutters behind you, trying to match your pace so she can adjust details on your gown. You’re a anxious that

Your corset is tight, your dress is big, your hair is beginning to sigh on your head, and to top it off this is the first official appearance you’ll be making as Queen outside of Solara.

As Martina fusses over you, you find yourself becoming increasingly irritated.

“Martina, could you please—” You shout, “Please just leave me be! For one second!”

Her hands shoot up in the air, a tight lipped smile forming on her face as she holds back tears before she quietly exits the room. As soon as the door clicks closed, and you hear her footsteps shuffle up to the ship’s deck, you let out a sigh of relief and slump onto the bed.

The wooden bed frame creaks as you sink into the mattress. You’re trying to keep your composure and you never meant yell, but this is all so overwhelming for you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to think of anything other than the nerves that surge through your body. Your mind immediately wanders to memories of your childhood and of your mother, putting you in an even more emotional and vulnerable state.

Just as your heart beat has been regulated, Selma bursts through the door without warning.

“Why have you yelled at Martina?!” She asks, her voice booming through the small room. The look on her face makes you feel bad already.

“Selma, it was a misunderstanding. All I needed was a minute alone,” you reply, sitting up to get a better view of your sister.

“That does not seem like a well enough excuse to me. All Martina ever does is help and you’ve gone and upset her! Queen or not, you owe her an apology.”

“I shall apologize when everyone is calm.”

“You’re right, you shall. You shall also make haste because everyone is waiting and we don’t have all day.” With that Selma stomps out of the room and slams the door shut, almost breaking the aged wood from the sheer force.

You throw yourself back on the bed, anxiety once again at an all time high. How were you meant to portray a powerful Queen when you felt so helpless?

—

“Queen Y/n! Princess Selma!” Chris exclaims, waving a hand in the air briefly as he calls you two over.

The coronation was quick and easy, and now that it’s over you don’t know why you were so anxious to begin with. Nobody has paid you any particular attention, most eyes were too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the new King.

You even found yourself narrowing your eyes and crooking your neck to see his face, but for the most part he had his back to the crowd and kept his head hung low.

“Lord Sturniolo!” Selma matches Chris’s energy, her heart skipping a beat as she pulls you in his general direction.

“You cleaned up quite beautifully,” Selma jokes, gawking at Chris’s elegant attire. A slight blush forks on his cheeks.

“Thank you both for making the trip, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble,” he says, a smile so bright it could blind you adorning his face.

“Oh it was nothing really,” you reply, but in reality you would’ve preferred to stay home. Eclipsum was dreary and the sun rarely had a chance to shine through the fog and cloud sky. Not to mention the fact that you have yet to meet the King; the sole purpose for your travel.

“Although I did hope to meet that famous brother of yours,” you continue, eyes scanning the room in hopes of finally seeing the King.

Chris’s eyes follow yours, he’s been hoping for the same all night, but Matt always managed to keep hidden even when he was meant to be the center of attention. Who could blame him, though? He was just crowned not only in jewels, but also in responsibility.

“Matt— I mean, the King has always been good at hiding.”

‘Matt.’ The name helps you understand and humanize him. He must be struggling like you were when you first became Queen.

“I’m sure he’s being kept extremely busy with all this company. We shall meet him soon, Sister.” Selma’s arm remains looped around yours, the other gesturing to the ballroom full of people as she creates a steady flow of conversation with Chris.

Chris chuckles, he found your sister’s positivity endearing, but he knew Matt was sequestered away from society. “Will you both be staying in Eclipsum?” Chris asks.

You and Selma answer simultaneously. She says yes and you say no.

“I suppose we shall be staying then. A few a days shouldn’t hurt,” you laugh. Selma’s gaze remains on Chris, they were clearly falling in love and here you were stuck babysitting your sister in a foreign country.

You huff in annoyance, “I shall need some time alone.” Selma waves you off, so engaged in conversation with Chris that nothing else matters.

So much for power.

—

MASTERLIST, SERIES MASTERLIST

A/n: I know you all want them to meet already, but trust ITS COMING. For everyone who’s been asking for part two, hope I enjoy! 😏 more coming soon

muah muah muah 💋 luv u all

- L.A.M.B💗👼🏻

—

1* not the bottom lip JUTTING out

2* yes this is the same part from the teaser. Why? Because I was teasing it 🤓

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

[agent-calivide]

So- normally this blog is exclusively for IEYTD content- but I think I'm gonna shift to just be my interests, because there is one thing that I'm absolutely feral about and desperately need to scream into the void over.

Discussion surrounding the 2004 film Barbie Princess and the Pauper makes me irrationally angry.

Barbie’s Princess and the Pauper is a surprisingly decent film for being made purely to shill doll, with music that's absolutely gorgeous and a story that's a bit less dark than the original novel it's parodying.

A brief summary for those who don’t know- though if my YouTube recommended’s anything to go by Barbie is taking over the collective hivemind of nostalgia at the moment- Barbie Princess and the Pauper is the story of two young women, Anneliese and Erica, living two completely separate lives, one being a princess and one being a pauper. The twist, however, is that they were completely identical, save for their hair and a shockingly relevant birthmark for only being mentioned twice.

Erica is a poor seamstress who’s worked like a dog by her wicked boss, Madame Carp, trying to pay off her parent’s debts so she can pursue life as a singer. Truly, the best rep for anyone who’s suffered through retail with a shitty boss. Annelise meanwhile, is a princess who spends her days being lavishly spoiled as a princess typically would, but she doesn’t want to be spoiled. On the contrary, she would rather spend her day studying than getting her feet massaged and faffing about. At least- that’s what the song “I am a girl like you” and most of the fandom would have you believe.

In the song “I am a girl like you", we start with Annelise and Erica meeting, Annelise saying that she’s not looking forward to marrying this king and Erica responding with “At least you’re not an indentured servant”. Annelise asks for elaboration, and the song starts. Erica talks about how her mornings start with paying her boss money for a hot breakfast, then having to get up, walk a mile through cold, wet roads just to get the eggs for breakfast and then come back when all she wants to do is sleep in. Once again, relatable. She then looks at Annelise and asks her how her morning starts. Annelise pauses, and is visibly bashful, clearly hesitant to share, but Erica asks her to go on. Then, Annelise tells Erica that if she wants eggs she rings a bell and her maid runs in with breakfast and cookies, and while she eats she gets a foot rub and has live music being played for her, but she doesn’t want to be spoiled and doted on, she wants to be in the library!

If this was the beginning and ending of Annelise’s characterization? I’d get it. If Erica thought Annelise was spoiled, I’d get it. But she doesn’t. On the contrary, Erica hears this rich girl complaining about how she doesn’t like her life but is aware of how good she has it, and chooses to reach out. To say “hey, I can relate to that." “There’s somewhere else we’d rather be, somewhere that’s our, somewhere that dreams come true” If anything, this is a testament to Erica’s empathy, her kindness, and her ability to put herself in someone else’s shoes even when they objectively have it better. Throughout this song Erica will talk about work and Annelise will talk about the lighthearted fun parts of being a princess, but will casually mention how she’s in a position that she doesn’t want. Erica has to walk through the mud every morning for breakfast, Annelise gets it served literally on a silver platter, Erica has to make dresses, Annelise gets to dance around in frilly dresses. But Annelise also mentions that she’d rather be in the library and get to marry who she chooses, not be betrothed for the sake of her kingdom, more on that in a minute.

And time and time again, I see people talk about how Annelise is tone deaf, how she’s complaining about what is, objectively, a better situation. But honestly, I find this stance to be major character assassination, and is one that I’m seeing more and more frequently in regards to Annelise and most other “rich” characters quite frankly. Now, normally I don’t mind opinions like “this character is spoiled and should have more development than just crappy parents” or “it’s bad that they rushed this antagonistic character’s ark so they can have them for the series finale” I think that argument works just fine on the spoiled rich girl archetype, like Pacifica Northwest and Sasha Waybright, but I see a lot of people slapping that sticker onto any character that grew up wealthy regardless if they were an antagonist or not.

I get not liking a character if they’re antagonistic, or relating better to a character who had to work for everything they had. Most of us didn’t grow up as princesses in fancy castles and have been stuck with horrible bosses. I understand why people relate to Erica more, especially as someone who worked at a fabric shop with a crappy manager. But on more than one occasion I’ve seen people take the stance that Annelise’s part in the song “just like you” is insensitive and Erica should’ve shouted at Annelise, reminded her of her privilege, “laid the verbal smackdown on her and show her how hard it was being a peasant” before quickly following it up with a “I was just kidding!” when anyone calls out that Annelise isn’t a one dimensional privileged white girl. And if that was the only context we got of Annelise, I’d understand where it came from.

But if we look at Annelise throughout the course of the whole movie, that’s not true at all, quite the opposite. Our first scene we get of Annelise is her, getting fitted for a wedding gown to marry a man she doesn’t want to be with while a servant is fretting over her schedule for the day. That doesn’t sound like the typical Disney princess who gets to spend her days doing whatever she wants post-coronation. This is an actual princess, with real responsibilities. She has to give speeches, attend meetings, speak with upper class societies, and all she wants, the first thing she says in the introduction song “Free”, is “all my life I’ve always wanted to have one day just for me, nothing to do and for once nowhere I need to be”.

While she is bemoaning to herself, she’s not exactly fighting her scheduler on this either. She doesn’t complain, she doesn’t fight back, no quips or whining or witty banter, she simply accepts that she has to do what is told and dreams of a world where she doesn’t have to do all that. And that’s the big point that I see a lot of people ignoring. She is absolutely busting her ass every day, in and out, doing as told and not getting a second to breathe.

Let’s look at the one day we see that is truly just Annelise in her environment. She is getting a fitting for a wedding dress to marry some king while the royal scheduler tells her she has to give a speech at the Historical Society, then has to rush over to a Horticultural Society Tea, then has Math lessons, Geography lessons, and presumably much more after if we’re basing it off the massive to-do list of parchment we see. As someone who survived the public education system, the thought of giving a speech, going to a high pressure lunch that’s basically a work meeting, then having to do a full day of school after that makes me want to simply wither away and cry. She’s not sitting around, looking pretty and riding horses all day. She has responsibilities, duties, commitments to her mother and her kingdom.

We then cut to Erica, who shares much of the same sentiment. “All my life I’ve always wanted to have one day for myself, not waking up with a pile of work on every shelf” before singing about all the work she has to do as a low-class seamstress. This is what we’d expect from the pauper side of things. Erica works hard to earn a living at a small seamstress shop and wishes she could be doing something more with her life. This is when Madame Carp walks in and we see a glint of Erica’s personality. She’s spunky, she talks back, she calls Madame Carp’s dress shop a debtor’s prison to her face and argues about her parent’s debts. While she is committed to paying back her parent’s debts, she’s not taking it lying down, and that is a fundamental difference between Annelise and Erica.

While Erica will see a problem and call out that it really sucks, Annelise will look at a problem and simply accept that she has to fix it with little more than a comment to herself. Both of these girls are dreaming about freedom, but Erica is fighting for her freedom while to Annelise, it’s little more than a fantasy.

And that includes the freedom to marry whom she chooses. And this is when we see just how far Annelise will go to please her mother, as she looks out and sees the love of her life, her tutor, Julian. Julian is implied to be a good friend who’s been her teacher for a long while, and he feeds her passions. He teaches her, he encourages her to learn, he is one of the few people in her life who feels joy in Annelise’s happiness. Because, truly, when we see the way she interacts with the other servants and maids, she doesn’t have many friends. She doesn’t have anyone to talk to about her grievances, her lack of freedom, any of it. All she has is Julian, and she likely will lose him in the marriage to King Dominick. He's already calling her "your highness" like an authority figure rather and Annelise, his friend, and she hasn't even met the king yet.

She can’t even have her fantasy to marry Julian, as it’s quickly interrupted by her mother cutting her off and saying “I’m so sorry my darling, but as you know, it is vital you marry king Dominick. It is the only way to take care of our people”. And Annelise just accepts this. She just goes “yeah, I know, I have to do this for the kingdom” and pushes her fantasies away. And the very next line is Annelise talking about how she knows she’s lucky, she knows she’s privileged to have all of this nice stuff, this nice life, but is quickly realizing that every present comes with strings. While she may get to have a lavish life, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

We then see Erica, who’s talking about how while she doesn’t have nice things, she has spirit, determination, and she will achieve her dreams no matter what. This song truly establishes just how different the girls are, specifically in regards to their challenges and the obstacles they encounter. Erica, though currently trapped by her parents' debts at Madam Carp’s, has a fire, a will, a determination. She, though in debt as a pauper, isn’t willing to give up on her goal and aspirations of being a professional singer.

Annelise meanwhile, could have resources. She could reach out and get help, or run away with Julian, or do something to get out of her situation, but she refuses to. She can’t get past this mental barrier of duty and responsibility, and even while downright miserable, she won’t complain and won’t voice her needs. But the kicker is truly in the bridge of Free. Erica says “Soon I will forever be free” while Annelise says “Now I fear I’ll never be free” Erica is damn near counting the days, she’s looking at freedom as an inevitability, something that she will be getting soon. Annelise knows and accepts that freedom simply isn’t in the cards for her. In the end, both girls dream of leaving their situations, but they both decide to stay in their respective positions for the good of those around them. They both are committed to their duties, but Erica’s duty will hopefully finish in the near future, while Annelise’s duty is her entire life.

Later in the film, Erica takes Annelise’s place at the castle as Annelise has been kidnapped by Priminger and Julian needs someone to pretend to be the princess so the king doesn’t leave. In “To be a princess” he proceeds to educate Erica on a lot of aspects of being a princess. This pertains but is not limited to: be charming but detached and yet amused, do keep a grip and never crack, always look your best, never get to rest, never show dismay, be there when people call, and never show a thing you feel inside. With lessons like that, it’s no wonder that Annelise feels an absolute commitment to being a princess and never has a day to herself. Everything and everyone around her, including her best friend, says that she’s not allowed to feel, to breathe, to relax. She always has to be alert, aware, she has to have a thought and a response for every single possible comment and retort. And when Erica’s taught all this, it’s painted as overwhelming to learn, but imagine that being every day of your life for every week of every month of every year. That sounds absolutely crushing. Erica at least gets to let off some steam. She snaps at Madame Carp, she jokes with Bertie, she sneaks out to town square and sings. She has outlets away from work that Annelise simply does not have.

Okay, so Annelise is completely committed to her job as a princess, big whoop. She still is filthy stinking rich and royals were married to people they didn’t like all the time, she still is incredibly privileged. Maybe so, however, there’s more to this marriage than just some sort of uniting of kingdoms or prior arrangement. The reason that she’s getting married to Dominick is the kingdom has fallen bankrupt. Why has it gone bankrupt? Has the queen spent an egregious amount of money on castles? Was the king a warmonger who put all their funds into their armies? Does princess Annelise have a penchant for expensive travel and one of a kind crowns?

No.

The kingdom is bankrupt because the queen’s advisor has mined their mines dry of gold in hopes of taking over the kingdom. With no gold coming in, there was nothing to exchange, and the queen had to fix the problem before it started to hurt her people more than it already has. Her solution? The only one. Marry Annelise off to the nearest wealthy suitor and hope that it injects money into their economy.

The royals of this kingdom did nothing wrong, other than letting an evil man have so much access to power, which I don’t think any of us have the right to judge. If anything, the only one who’s privileged and trying to take advantage of it is the royal advisor Preminger. He talks about how he’s scraped by for years to climb the ranks and deserves to be a king, but in that same vein he doesn’t care about the kingdom, the people who are affected by his decisions. He’s so hellbent on becoming king, he doesn’t think about the fact that for all intents and purposes, he’s made it. He’s wealthy, absurdly so unlike Erica, but he’s also not a royal and thus has no duties to do any work he doesn’t feel like it, able to disappear for weeks on end and not have anyone on his back unlike Annelise. He has everything the girls want, but it’s not enough for him. He wants more.

Annelise meanwhile, is very aware of her privilege as a princess and tries to relate to those around her, even if she’s a bit unsuccessful at it. Before Annelise meets King Dominick, Julian decides that, as her friend, he thinks she needs some air. To get out of this stuffy castle and go see the kingdom as a normal girl before she loses it all. So, he gets her a cloak and takes her down to the nearby village, and here we can really see that she’s aware of her privileges when she’s outside of the castle.

As she and Julien walk around the town she asks him which house is his and he says “more of a room really, we couldn’t afford a house.” and immediately Annelise feels guilty, backtracking and starting to apologize for assuming he had a house. She doesn’t look at him in confusion or make fun of him for not having a house to himself, she instantly realizes that she was “in the wrong” to assume and tries to apologize for being presumptuous or assuming he was wealthier than he was. But Julien doesn’t laugh at her, doesn’t scoff, doesn’t tell her to “check her privilege”. He simply gives her a small smile and says “I know”. He assures her that, as his friend, she didn’t cause offense, he’s aware that she simply didn’t know he was in that bad of a financial situation growing up. He simply laughs it off then carries on with the conversation.

And this entire next section is Julien just being the absolute best. He engages with her interests, he gets Annelise her favorite flower, he calls the flower by its (fake) scientific name as he hands it off to her and he knows that it’s her favorite and that she'd appreciate him talking about science with her. He’s simply engaging with her as a mutual, a friend, and shows interest in her- well- interests. She gets to happily indulge in fantasy for a moment, but it’s quickly ripped away as she looks around the market and notices that the kingdom’s bankruptcy is already setting in. Shops are getting boarded up, families are being forced to leave, and she’s reminded that she has to get married to King Dominick for their sake. And she is visibly saddened by this. Not that she has to marry Dominick, but that her people are suffering over something that she and her mother couldn’t have possibly prevented.

Her train of thought gets interrupted by Erica singing in town square, Erica having snuck out from work to sing in the town square for coin, and she is doing a damn good job. We see she earns a decent amount of money for just singing on the road. People gather around Erica and listen to her song, she gives a sense of hope, she is pursuing her own freedom and people are enjoying it. Erica once again gets a reminder that her dream of freedom is not only soon, but achievable. It’s in reach, it’s not a completely absurd notion like Annelise's freedom. This is quickly interrupted by Madame Carp stepping in and yelling at Erica for leaving work, stealing her hard earned money and telling her to get back to work- which on one hand, bitch. On the other, Erica leaving work in the middle of the day to sing in town square is… a choice.

But, regardless, Erica’s left with nothing and is alone on the street, and who steps in to put coins in her cup after Madame Carp’s left? Annelise! She comes over, gives Erica money, and the two talk for a bit. Erica finds out Annelise is the princess and asks why she’s outside the castle, and Annelise says “I’m savoring my first and last taste of freedom before getting married next week… to a total stranger.”

Note that she didn’t say “I’m getting a breather” or “I'm taking a break”. She said “I’m getting my first and last taste of freedom before getting married NEXT. WEEK. She has never, ever, ever gotten a day off, taken a break, gotten to truly rest and get a breather. Us viewers? We get weekends, holidays, a day off on occasion, but Annelise doesn’t. She doesn’t get a moment’s rest because her life is her job. She’s never even been outside the castle walls until this day! Her whole life has been work and has been dedicated to her kingdom, to her mother’s expectations. While yes she is definitely more privileged than Erica, it’s not fun and games. If anything, it’s a 24/7, 365 job, every day of the year. And then this happens. “At least you’re not an indentured servant”

This. This one line. Drives. Me. Insane. And I think this line primes people to take the stance that Annelise is simply spoiled. Just because your arm is broken, doesn’t mean my sprained ankle doesn’t hurt.

This is when “Girl like you” starts, and this is also what most people use as reference to say Annelise is spoiled and tone deaf. Because here’s the thing, Annelise never says she has it bad, she never claims that her life sucks. And when Erica tells her her morning routine, Annelise is visibly apprehensive to share her morning routine, because she is aware that it’s rather tone deaf to say that her life sucks because she’s marrying some guy she doesn’t know after hearing how Erica’s morning starts every. Single. Day. She clearly knows how absurd it is to complain, most likely because she’s friends with Julian, who seems to have also been a pauper before getting hired to tutor Annelise. But Erica presses so she folds and shares her morning routine and actively chooses to complain about something little, almost diminishing her misery in a way. Like “Oh, haha, yeah my morning’s pretty good, but I just want to do what I want to do for once rather than follow my mother’s schedule- but it’s fine! I’m fine!” And that is why it’s so important for Erica to reach out first and say “I’m just like you, you’re just like me”

Because it’s not just about reading science books. It’s Annelise wanting to rest, to pursue her interests, not the interests of her mother or her kingdom. Erica sees right through Annalise’s act and finds solidarity in it. She opens up about how miserable it is working at Madame Carp’s and Annalise, excited that she can actually carry this conversation, happily talks about how she loves Madame Carp’s dresses.

This is the other point I see a lot of people reference, as Erica talks about how abusive Madame Carp is and Annelise cuts in to say she loves the dresses that wicked woman sells. This, honestly, is just a mood to me. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve been excited to carry on a conversation, only to immediately put my foot in my mouth as I realize I misread the tone. But once again, rather than Erica getting snobby, going “Did you not hear me? I just called it a penitentiary.” She simply smiles at the naïve princess and tells her she made the dress the princess was wearing.

Annelise proceeds to compliment her work, praise it for its detailing, and the two continue to talk, Erica talking bout how she has little issue with making dresses while Annelise has fun wearing them, and the two actually talk about her getting to “imagine life without the strife of an unfamiliar groom”.

Erica recognizes that Annelise’s situation, though much more comfortable than hers, absolutely sucks. That all of those privileges come at a cost and honestly questions if they’re worth it. And then Annelise proceeds to say “but I’d never let my mother know, I wouldn’t want to disappoint her!”

Once again, Annelise is not only diminishing her needs and putting her happiness aside for her mother’s happiness, but she shows that all of her issues are mental blocks. Social pressures that have been put on her from her life being raised as a princess. She’s not singing on a corner for pennies, but she also isn’t allowed to pursue her own happiness. She’s a tool, not a person.

And after these two talk and bond and get to know each other, what happens? Annelise uses her privilege to help Erica. She tells Erica “hey, I love your singing, I want you to perform at the castle, I’ll send someone to bring you up to the castle and perform”

This offer would be life changing for Erica. Having Erica come up to the castle, perform, and probably get paid quite a handsome sum for it? To a seamstress and street singer like Erica, that could literally get her out of debt and onto stage that much sooner. Annelise, rather than going “oh, she’s poor, I don’t want to be seen with her” like a stereotypical rich girl archetype says “Come, sing for us, you’re talented and I want to share your gift with others”. And Erica is rightfully ecstatic at that offer, and is over the moon when Annelise says she’ll send someone to get her.

Later, due to plot purposes, Annelise and Erica get mixed up, Anneilse stuck in the streets and Erica up in the castle. Annelise, in a moment of desperation, goes to Madame Carp’s dress emporium for shelter. The problem? Madame Carp thinks Annelise is Erica, and locks her in the back of the shop with the other seamstress, Bertie. While Bertie does think it’s Erica at first, Annelise tells Bertie the whole story (presumably) and proceeds to do exactly as instructed. She doesn’t throw a fit or refuse to help, she sits down, grabs a needle, and gets to work. Sloppy work, but work nonetheless. Even when Bertie tells Annelise that she doesn’t have to work on the dresses, she insists on helping. She doesn’t once say “I’m a princess, I shouldn’t be doing this” she simply accepts that this is her work now and adds it onto her plate. Even when she’s not in the castle, she thinks it’s her job to take on work that she’s assigned, and while it’s painted as a moment of empathy and kindness, Annelise is shown to put her desires as the very last thing to prioritize.

Eventually she’s released from Madam Carp’s by Preminger and he immediately locks her in a mine shaft and tries to murder her and Julian. Yes, he’s gone full blown Disney villain and locks the two away in a mineshaft then causes a cave in. Annelise and Julian are locked in a shaft in a caved in mine. Can I say this one more time: Annelise and Julian are buried alive in a m i n e. Most people in this situation would be panicking, crying, generally reacting distressed, we can see Julian sure as hell is, as he grabs a pick and immediately tries to dig himself and Annelise out. What is Annelise doing during all of this? Staying calm, comforting Julian, and finding her kingdom’s solution to bankruptcy.

Say what you will about how “it’s just a movie” but I know that were I trapped in a caved in mine, my mind would not be on how to fix a problem that looked like it wasn’t gonna be my issue very, very soon. But not only does Annelise use the rock as a touching analogy to make Julian feel better about himself, she keeps the crystals in mind and when they escape the mine collapse- due to cat shenaniganry- and informs her mother of them to solve the kingdom’s gold issues.

Here, Annelise once again is solving a problem that she didn’t even cause to get her happily ever after. She is truly doing all of the work on this school project, and people are digging at how she was raised in a fancy castle rather than acknowledging that Annelise did a lot of hard work. One video I saw was someone talking about how if they were Erika they would’ve stayed in Annelise’s position to “earn that bag” and make some actual changes to improve the kingdom, but Annelise does make changes to help the kingdom!

She finds a new export, saves her kingdom’s market from completely crashing, helps revitalize the economy, and because of all of that people can move back home and re-open their shops! We don’t know much about how this kingdom is run, but we do know that the royalty feel a duty to help their people, to do what is best for the masses regardless of how much they don’t want to do it. This isn’t like the modern day one percent where people tear down historical sites to make room for their mega yachts. The reason Annelise and the Queen are rich is they are the government. They are a monarchy. We don’t see any massive balls or galas like we do in Island Princess or Cinderella, they’re not just throwing money around for the amusement of it.

They’re bankrupt because their mines ran dry, and they managed to save their kingdom by finding a new export. “Why don’t they use their own money to help people if they’re so fabulously wealthy?” While that idea could be a good bandaid, eventually that money would also run out and then not only would the kingdom be bankrupt, but there’d be no incentive for any nearby kingdoms to marry Annelise because she’d be a poor princess to a broke kingdom that would offer effectively no benefits to any allyship. The best, and most to the point plan that the queen comes up with is to marry her daughter off so her kingdom would get an injection of money as soon as possible, because they effectively had no other solutions. They didn’t know about the crystal mines, and they didn’t know Preminger was fabulously wealthy. The only solution was to make themselves look good, like a viable, healthy(ish) kingdom and hope that Dominick would accept the proposal and save their kingdom.

And that leads me to Dominick. Dominick, unlike Annelise, doesn’t use his privilege to help anyone other than himself and Erica. And even then, that privilege mostly amounts to him getting to do what he wants. While Annelise simply accepts that she has to marry this king, Dominick goes out of his way to disguise himself as a page boy so he could get to know Annelise before agreeing to anything. Dominick preemptively gives himself an out and chooses to test Annelise, while Annelise has to take the hand she’s given and not complain. In all of this, Annelise isn’t the one with a choice, ever. Her mother chooses to marry her off, her mother chooses king Dominick, Dominick chooses to disguise himself, and then Preminger chooses to kidnap her so she can’t marry Dominick. She has no agency in her life.

The only reason Dominick reveals himself to Erica (who is pretending to be Annelise at the moment so the marriage to save the kingdom doesn’t get called off) is because he thinks Annelise ran away because she didn’t want to marry a stranger. But he still is the one with the agency, and he only reveals his true self when he thinks that Annelise acted on her own behalf.

So Annelies isn’t allowed to have her own agency, but is spoiled because she’s rich, meanwhile Dominick is a king who practices his own agency regularly throughout the movie and he is rarely if ever criticized for it. He gets to meet Erica, fall in love with her, he gets to choose her, and when Erica is revealed to be a pauper and thrown in the dungeon he gets to use a suit of armor to sneak in and get her out of the prison safely. While I don’t think he got permission to break her out, he still was allowed to use his resources to go back to Annelise’s castle and get a suit of armor to sneak into the dungeon and break Erica out.

No one else in this film would’ve had access to resources like that other than maybe Annelise, and yet I don’t see anyone saying that Erica should check King Dominick’s privilege and lecture him on how he was lucky that he was allowed to get have the money to be a king and access to a suit of armor to sneak into the dungeons and save her from probably a death sentence. In this situation, Dominick is purely using his privileges for himself. Yes, he saves Erica, but at this point he’s also in love with her, and he’s saving her not just because she’s a good person, but because he’s fallen in love with her and doesn’t want to lose her.

When she’s accused of killing Annelise, he is distraught. He doesn’t believe it, he can’t fathom that this sweet young lady that he’s spent the week with would do something so horrid. That is why he saves her. Not because of some sense of justice, it’s because he’s smitten with her. Yes, he uses his privilege to help someone in a worse position than him, but according to people who are criticizing Annelise, that’s not enough. Especially when it’s a decision made out of self interest.

At the end of the film, Annelise and Dominick both help Erica with her situation. The royal family, having found out that Madame Carp’s business is corrupt at best, stops purchasing from her and she goes out of business. I can already hear people saying “The family shouldn’t have been buying dresses from Madame Carp in the first place! She’s vindictive and cruel to her workers!” and to that I raise you: How many beauty influencers and brands these days do something sketchy, and it’s later revealed that they were a horrible person or a bad corporation?

My first thought, as someone who wears alternative fashion, is DollsKill. I can admit that I’ve purchased things off of their website before I found out how unethical they are. Should I have done more research? Yes. And I don’t shop with them any more because of it. But if I, and many other people, were able to make that mistake in the year of 2023 with access to infinite information on the internet, then it’s easy to see how someone in the 1700’s could’ve made the same folly.

Especially since Madame Carp doesn’t exactly go around bragging that she abuses her seamstresses. We know that Annelise never met Madame Carp before the film, as Madame Carp claims she’s the princess’s “close personal friend” while actively calling Annelise "Erica" and refusing to believe it’s actually the princess in her boutique. Realistically, Annelise and the queen likely don’t even go shopping, they probably have a servant go into the market, buy a few gowns for upcoming events, and only know the gowns by their brands.

I do wonder what happened to Bertie after all of this, but she seems pretty happy that Madame Carp has to leave, so perhaps she has a backup plan or some sort of safety net. Maybe she was also in debt to Madame Carp and was just looking forward to paying off her debts before starting her own dress emporium, we don’t really know. Either way, the dress shop closing gives Erica the freedom to pursue her music career that she was being held back from and she does so. But that still leaves our boy Dominick. He talks to Erica, tries to convince her to stay with him, but she tells him that her dream is to travel and sing. He does eventually acquiesce and gives her an engagement ring, telling her that it was for her anyways, and that it wasn’t a promise nor pressure, simply a gift. In the end, after performing for a long while, Erica decides that she wants to be with Dominick and travels to his kingdom to marry him.

I think that Annelise and Dominick are both good people for being Monarchs that put the interest of those around them before themselves. But for some reason, Annelise is held to a much higher standard than Dominick, even when she makes very human mistakes. They both are raised as royalty, King Dominick likely even more so as he’s king of a wealthy kingdom, but he is never put under the same scrutiny as Annelise. Sure, he never claims to relate to Julian, but Annelise never claimed to relate to Erica until she suggested it.

And Annelise’s privileges aren’t always a good thing. I feel like people neglect the whole section of the story where she was kidnapped and held prisoner because of her mother’s advisor. Not figuratively, literally. Taken from her home and locked in a random cabin because Preminger wanted to be king and figured that kidnapping her was the wisest choice rather than just advising the queen to not marry her off. Annelise is actively put in danger and harm’s way because of her status.

Honestly, Annelise really gets the shaft, full pun intended, in the second half of the film, a lot of time being spent on Erica and King Dominick’s relationship. Despite being The Princess and the Pauper, Annelise’s story is really the B plot to Erica’s love story. This makes sense, after all, she spends a lot of time just kidnapped and locked in various rooms, but in a weird way this just shows yet again that she has no autonomy even in her own story. And yet, she’s the one who’s scorned for being spoiled.

“Well, she is spoiled. She had a roof over her head and warm food and we see how Erika is baffled at the spoils when she’s a princess” But I'm gonna say something that's likely gonna get the pitchforks out: Money doesn't buy happiness. Before anyone hits me with a “I’d rather cry in a bugatti than a gutter”, let me explain.

The phrase “money can’t buy happiness” has two very different interpretations, and I find that both sides refuse to listen to the other even though both have valid arguments. There’s the stance that it can buy happiness, as money provides all sorts of things. On the surface, it’s shallow things, jewelry, gaming consoles, toys, fashion, knick knacks and trinkets that provide short term serotonin by buying something that you really want. But dig a bit deeper, and it gives more than that. Money is stability, shelter, food, water. It’s hard to be happy if you can’t have those things. To further elaborate, if you’re in a bad enough position that you can’t afford to heat your home, or buy a meal, or get clean drinking water, being able to afford that, either by your own means or by having someone else get it for you, is something that can’t be put into a monetary value- even if it literally is given a price. Getting to have access to water, shelter, knowing that you’ll have food in the morning, that’s something that you likely won’t understand the value of if you’ve always had it. Money may not buy literal happiness, but it provides security, and that security can lead to happiness.

Then there’s the argument that it can’t buy happiness, and people who have this opinion usually aren’t wondering where their next meal will be coming from or if they can pay rent this month. This stance is usually painted as privileged and spoiled because “well, you can say that because you’ve never had to worry about paying to survive”, but in my experience it’s quite the contrary. Most people I’ve met who say “money can’t buy happiness” usually include a caveat that if someone is in a position where they can’t afford food or shelter then of course money buys happiness. Stability is the foundation of comfort and comfort leads to happiness. No one is saying that someone’s ridiculous for being happy they can afford to live. And if you have seen that stance, then I'm sorry humans just suck.

Rather, “money can’t buy happiness” means that material objects cannot replace emotional intimacy or support. Surface level items have short-term pleasure that cannot be sustainable as the happiness lasts less and less with each material object. And this feeling of dissatisfaction only increases the more things you get. This is especially true when it comes to gifts. While gift giving is a valid love language, the whole point of it is giving or receiving items that have sentimental value more than monetary value. A pebble that’s their favorite color means way more than a PS5 when they exclusively use Nintendo products.

But when you don’t have a support system, healthy relationships, and the people you do have around you try to replace emotional intimacy with shallow gifts that don’t amount to anything, you find yourself downright miserable. Most people that I’ve met that have the stance that money can’t buy happiness tend to reach that conclusion after a guardian figure causes intense emotional distress or neglect then tries to purchase love with a shallow but expensive gift. It’s not that money can’t provide you with things that make you happy, it’s that money can’t provide emotional intimacy or a genuine support system.

If anything, Princess and the Pauper is the perfect allegory for this phrase, as Erica, though poor and struggling to get by, has emotional support in Bertie, her singing, her dreams. But, she doesn’t have access to security, stability, physical comforts, and is blocked from pursuing her goals because of external factors. Annelise meanwhile, is in a position of comfort and stability, but doesn’t have any emotional support nor outlets, her only friend being her teacher and her mother having a strict regime for her to follow regardless of her desires while being surrounded by luxurious gifts from other royalty that are ultimately empty gestures.

All of this to say, while Annelise is a princess who lives with the privileges of being a rich, upper class girl with access to many things that Erica could only dream of, her life isn’t one of luxury and spoils. She doesn’t get to indulge in her pleasures and can only appreciate things on a surface level because that is all she has time for. I don’t think most of the people who criticize Annelise could actually handle her schedule every day of every month of every year. She’s not some Disney princess who’s only job is to be pretty and interesting for the male love interest, she has duty. Responsibility. A full time job that dictates her sleep schedule.

She’s not unaware of her privileges and if anything is always using them to help everyone else, and at the end of the film she still doesn’t get that freedom that she’s searching for. She invites a pauper to sing at the castle, she tries to find solutions to the kingdom’s bankruptcy for her people, she goes out of her way to help when she can, and she’s not completely insensitive to the struggles of her friends. Even when she’s supposed to be taking a break, or is in a dire situation, she’s still constantly thinking of how to help others first.

Yes, she gets to marry Julian, but she’s still a princess and still likely follows her royal schedule to a T. While Erica got to learn what it’s like to be a princess, got to pursue her music, and got to marry King Dominick, becoming a princess herself, Annelise’s conclusion is ultimately that she managed to solve the kingdom’s bankruptcy so she could marry whom she chooses and then proceeds to fall back into the same routine of fixing everything for everyone else. She only gets freedom in one aspect, and we never see her actually get a day to herself, a day to relax. The only “relaxation” we see happening is with Erica while she spends time with Dominick, and that week likely was going to be Annelise’s only break before the marriage. So even after saving the day, Annelise still doesn’t get what she wants, and yet supposedly she’s spoiled rotten.

Truly, she does do what she says in the first song Free. “I’ll remain forever royal… Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret.” Erica never actually repays her parent’s debts, Madame Carp goes out of business and Erica gets let off the hook probably because she has two very powerful royals on her side. And this once again is Annelise using her privileges to help those who don't have the same as her by choosing to not support a business that is bad for its workers.

Erica gets released from her servitude early and then gets to chase after her dreams, but Annelise only gets to marry Julian after putting in the work to solve the bankruptcy so she doesn’t have to marry some other rich king that isn’t the one who fell for her best friend.

[archduke-enver-gortash]

mmm essay about sally and kid gort in the tags (cw for child abuse, mentions of suicide, animal cruelty and a murder attempt. i always hope i don’t have to say this but just in case: i don’t excuse or condone any of her or gort’s behaviour at all.) this is literally not even touching upon everything i have to say because i hit the fucking tag limit lmao. NOBODY READ IT’S BAD BRAINSTORMING I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT SOMEHOW

[coloursofaparadox]

hnnnnnnnnnnnmmnn its overshare on the internet o clock

[dmclemblems]

Just some examples below of characters at camp in GW not being okay with what Claude does (mainly to reiterate past points I’ve made about him/the route):

Mind you, the game forces all characters to cooperate with Claude in GW, even though a lot of them disagree (Marianne adamantly is against everything Claude is doing and expresses it regularly. Her excuse for not leaving or doing anything about is that she hopes the war ends quickly, but she still repeatedly expresses that she doesn’t believe what they’re doing is the right thing to do).

Lorenz repeatedly questions Claude’s decisions, as he should, but due to it being the GW route, all the characters have to follow what he does and just deal with it. There’s no “hey this is bullshit I’m out”, when realistically at this point a good handful of characters would’ve walked out.

This proves the writer’s are totally aware of what they’re writing and know the nuance to it! It’s just that... because Claude is the main character of this route, he’s swept up in the story and has to be adjusted to fit the story accordingly.

There’s no happy ending for the Kingdom and Alliance unless Sylvain (who is a major player in Faerghus politics) can agree to it, which is highly unlikely after he openly expresses his hatred for Claude/the Alliance (as he puts it, the “invaders”, which... were Claude/the Alliance).

Also, I have another post with the camp part of Hapi saying that it’s scummy of the Alliance/Federation that the only reason she and Constance are alive is because they surrendered. In other words, she finds the “surrender or die” thing to be scummy. Then we have Yuri, who notices the same issue:

This point proves that Claude is pretty cold hearted in this route. He not only forces Ashe to surrender (or die, as is implied by his dialogue when he says “Dimitri would be sad if you died” and thus urging him to surrender), but then he even has Ashe fight against his own people.

While this is a recruit mechanic issue and is a problem in all routes generally speaking, it’s not highlighted upon by other characters about other characters. That is to say, Petra for example in AG will express relief that they didn’t have to kill Dorothea, but she doesn’t mention anything about Dimitri forcing them to fight the Empire (which Petra decides to do entirely by her own will). Dorothea expresses some reluctance at first in her own camp dialogue, but it’s never mentioned that Dimitri is forcing anyone to fight against their will.

The fact that other characters are commenting on it means other characters are seeing and understanding what’s going on (which is more than a lot of players can say apparently, like the ones who blindly send hate to people who didn’t enjoy GW/SB lol). They recognize that everything Claude is doing is just shitty and shouldn’t be what they’re doing.

So... why do they keep fighting with him? Because... bad writing. That’s honestly it. Because they’re all forced, by the writing and route’s story, to keep fighting for Claude even though probably a good half of his camp doesn’t agree with his actions. Even though, if this were a better story even somewhat, and if Claude still did what he’s been doing here in this somewhat better story, the story would be made better by the disagreeing characters defecting to the Kingdom. Mind you, three background lords did try to defect to the Kingdom... and were promptly shut down from defecting.

If this were a good story, Claude wouldn’t have had his morals flipped on their head. If this were a decentish story, Claude would have lost a good chunk of his allies who defected after being fed up with his behavior and decisions. If this were a bad and lazily written story, it would look like it does.

ALSO I ran out of tags to explain my last point BUT

the irony of all this is that when he killed Shahid, he was trying not to cry and got drunk over it. This guy who had been trying to kill him and would’ve done so without batting an eye (and probably would’ve told everyone and bragged about it), this guy who has been presumably among his siblings trying to kill him his entire life, and this is who he feels guilty about killing. Then he goes marching to Faerghus, invades them and says he just wants to talk while forcing one of their royal knights to surrender or die.

Apparently Claude would rather feel sad about the brother of his that tried to murder him than the innocent people who never wronged him.

[inupibaldspot]

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

Reblogs, like and comment are appreciated! Love this work? out other here

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[pellucid-constellations]

By the Book

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is struggling to catch the attention of his mate. Cassian offers him some advice, but "putting the moves on you" is harder than it seems, especially since he's not a character in one of Nesta's novels.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Nothing much, just fluff and Azriel panicking <3

a/n: Enjoyyy :) And let me know what you think pleaseee!

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

“Maybe you should try something different.” 

“Something different?” 

“Yeah,” Cassian shrugged, kicking back in his chair. “Put some moves on her, give her eyes—something interesting to gain her attention.”

“I’m not just trying to gain her attention, Cassian,” Azriel grimaced. “I—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m not an idiot. I see how you look at her. But you don’t want to scare her, you know?” 

Azriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I scare her?” 

“No, no,” Cassian assured, lazily waving his hand in the shadowsinger’s direction. “But y/n’s new. She’s still got all the nerves of working for a high lord and being in court. And she’s kind of—well, you know.” 

Azriel raised a brow, remaining silent in lieu of further questions. Cassian gave him a look, one Azriel did not replicate, and then sighed dramatically. 

“Az, come on. She’s new and she’s young. She’s all innocent and skittish. If you drop all of your big feelings on her she could run for the hills.” 

“She’s not that young,” Azriel refuted, face now pressed in confusion and contemplation.

“Young enough to be shocked by a mating bond so early in her life.” 

Cassian’s words left a blanket of silence over the room. The fireplace crackled, the chair beneath Azriel groaned, and shadows wisped around bookshelves and walls. 

“Is it obvious?”

“No,” Cassian shook his head, straightening his lax posture. “I was honestly just confirming a hunch. But now that I know…” 

“What should I do?” Azriel stressed. 

“Let me tell you a few things I’ve learned from Nesta’s interesting choice in literature.” 

~~

Azriel had waited all day for you to show up at the townhouse. Radiating nervous energy only visible in the way he continuously shook out his hands, the spymaster was armed with an arsenal of tactics Cassian swore by and a vigorous motivation. 

Part of him had been wary of the “smooth moves” the general had shared, but another part took his brother’s warnings to heart. He didn’t want to scare you off and you were rather young. Not a child by any means, but if Azriel had found his mate within his first hundred years, he probably would have panicked. 

And you were just reaching a centennial.

Gods, and Rhysand had only just hired you a few months ago. 

Before Azriel could spiral and abandon his possibly catastrophic plans, you walked in. 

Arm and arm with Feyre, you breezed through the front door with a canvas in hand and a laugh still fresh on your lips. Azriel wasn’t sure if it was the mating bond or just you that caused his chest to ache. 

When you caught his eye, a bright smile plastering onto your face, Azriel deduced that it was just you. 

“Hi, Az,” you called, unwinding yourself from Feyre and stepping close enough for Azriel to scent the paint mixing in with the sweet smell of your perfumes. “I stopped by Feyre’s studio after work. I painted the Sidra but it looks… well, just look at it.” 

Azriel trailed his gaze down to the painting, but much of him was still lost in the giggle that followed your words. The “Sidra” was more of a collection of uneven lines and dots meant to be clouds, but Azriel found himself offering a few gentle compliments despite it all. 

You tugged the painting down to your side with a disbelieving scoff, quirking a brow at the shadowsinger. “Do you make it a habit to lie to me, Az?” 

There was paint on your cheek—just a small splotch, but enough to grab his attention. 

“If she has something on her face, you reach up and get it for her. But you have to get real close and grab her face. And look into her eyes—yeah that part was important.”

Azriel’s wings rustled in anticipation at the opportunity, but he pulled them in tightly and hoped you missed the tell. The shadowsinger took a small step forward and tucked his fingers behind your ear, letting his palm press against your jaw and his thumb swipe along the paint by your nose. 

One, two passes and the pigment was gone, but he hadn’t looked into your eyes yet and Cassian said that was key. 

Hazel eyes shot up to meet your wide, unblinking gaze. Azriel held his hand against your skin for another moment, relishing in the feel of you as your mouth parted to take in a sharp breath. That sharp inhale was followed by a shaky exhale, and Azriel decided that was a good cue to release his hold. 

And although his mind was running rampant with a slew of emotions and panicked thoughts, he took a step back and looked at his thumb nonchalantly. 

“There was paint on your cheek,” he stated, because Cassian also said he needed to act stoic. 

Azriel already considered himself stoic, but that was before he had held your face in his hands. 

At some point, the painting in your hands had fallen to the tips of your fingertips, the canvas just barely hanging from your grip. You licked your lips and stuttered out a few incoherent utterances before landing on, “Oh, thank you.” 

Azriel nodded, and a beat passed with only the whisper of shadows and the shallow intake of breath. 

Until a throat was cleared behind you, and Azriel distinctly remembered that you had not walked in alone. Avoiding his high lady’s knowing gaze, Azriel jutted his hand out to a random wall in the townhouse. 

“Should we hang it up?” 

~~

You were leaning against a wall in the House of Wind, forgotten drink in hand, gazing around the room with a content gleam in your eye. Rhysand had these parties every once in a while, but this was your first time attending one. The soft way you looked at his family—at Nyx and the stubborn way he escaped his parents—made Azriel’s throat tighten. 

You were part of that family now too, whether you knew it or not. 

You were part of him—a piece of his being just steps away. 

“You put your arm above her head and talk low. If you’re feeling adventurous, a hand on her waist.” 

Right. Cassian said not to scare you. 

Revealing his undying love for you would most likely scare you. 

Azriel abandoned his drink on a platter and closed the space between you. 

Arm above your head. 

Talk low. 

A hand on your waist? Maybe. 

This was ridiculous. Azriel knew how to talk to women. He had spoken to plenty of women and they had been more than happy to oblige him. Azriel knew he was attractive and was considering throwing this whole plan away, but then you looked up at him and he found himself placing his arm above your head anyway. 

Mother save him. 

He pressed in close, his forearm just inches from your head as he gave you a soft smile. “Hello,” he greeted, sure to keep his words low.

You wrapped your drink in towards your chest and smiled back, lashes fluttering as the shadowsinger held your gaze. 

“Hi, Azriel,” you smiled back. 

Shit, what was he supposed to do now? 

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, only because you were so pretty and the bond within him was glowing with so much warmth that he could think of nothing else to say. 

You hummed. “It’s rather lively. It’s nice that Rhys invites so many of his people. I really do love this court.” 

I love you. 

No, he couldn’t say that. 

“I’m glad you approve.”

Stoic. Perfect. 

A gentle conversation flowed between you. Azriel hung his head low as he discussed past parties and strangers and restaurants along common streets, and you angled your chin up so the words spoken were just breaths away. Azriel did not move from his position and you did not escape further into the wall. 

“Do these go all night?” you asked, breaking eye contact for one of the first times since Azriel’s arrival. 

He looked over his shoulder to follow your gaze. “Sometimes. With Nyx around, maybe not tonight.” 

You took a sip of your drink. 

Azriel turned back around. 

The pull to you was inescapable. He glanced down at your waist, the way you had turned to your side to look at him directly, and then he reached out. 

His hand fit perfectly, shadows sliding out to wrap around your body. Azriel took the time to watch how his fingers pressed up to your ribs, and then, in an act much bolder than he felt, he tugged you forward and lowered his mouth to your ear. 

“Are you tired?” he asked. 

You had placed your hands on his chest during his unexpected motion, your fingers tight against his shirt. “A little,” you breathily replied. 

He could feel the warmth of your skin against his lips. Just a small turn of his head and he would taste it as well. His heart thumped painfully in his chest. 

No, Cassian had said—

“Azriel?” Your call threw him out of his thoughts. Pulling back, he met your eye. “Are you tired, too? I think I might turn in early.” 

Were you asking him to follow you? 

He would follow you anywhere. For anything. 

But if he were overstepping… 

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room? Or fly you back to your apartment?” 

You took a step back, Azriel’s hand slipping from your body. 

A piece of him melted away at the loss. 

You bit back what looked to be a smirk. “I got it. I’ll see you tomorrow, Az?” 

He watched you walk away from him, silently cursing Cassian. 

This had to have been his fault somehow. 

~~

The next opportunity Azriel got was accompanied by a flurry of concern. 

He had come to walk you home from the clinic after a long day with Majda, his shadows informing him that you were tired, overworked, exhausted. When he opened the door to your disheveled figure slumped over a counter, the bond within him sent him rushing to you. Or perhaps it was just an intrinsic drive—just the love he held for you.  

“The hair is a big one. Tuck it back behind her ear. The males in Nesta’s books always go for that one.” 

To be honest, Azriel wanted to do much more than tuck your hair behind your ear. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and fly you home and tuck you into bed. But Cassian had warned him against grand acts, so the shadowsinger accepted your tired smile with a soft one of his own. 

“A bad day?” he softly asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning over the counter. 

His hands fell just a small breadth from yours. 

You sighed in agreeance, forehead meeting the wood between you before turning back up to the male. “Come to laugh at me?” 

Your hair had fallen into your face. 

“Never,” Azriel whispered. “I’ve come to walk you home.” 

“Hmm, always walking me somewhere, aren’t you?” 

A confused smile graced the shadowsinger’s face, and then he took his brother’s advice and brushed fingers against your temple, sweeping your hair from your eyes. His touch ran down the slope of your ear, your lashes fluttering at the texture of his skin. Azriel gave into temptation and traced a line down your jaw as well, taking advantage of the tire that seemed to overcome you as you leaned into his touch. 

Cassian’s tips seemed to work so much better when the two of you were alone. 

But not too well, Azriel reminded himself, the male beginning to pull his hand from your face. 

You caught his wrist in your unsteady hand. 

“When are you going to tell me?” you accused, a slight squint in your eye. “I really do appreciate all of the stops you’re pulling out, but I’m wondering when you’ll stop walking me home and start being honest.” 

Azriel’s mouth parted in shock. “What do you—” 

“The hand on my waist was a good touch, I will say. I didn’t think you’d go that far. Especially not after you forgot to kiss me and instead offered to hang up my gods-awful painting.”

Azriel felt his face begin to heat. There was no way you had picked up on his flirting so quickly. But, Azriel thought in mortification, he had been stiff, paused too many times trying to remember Cassian’s words. Maybe he had been obvious. 

Oh, Gods. 

“Azriel,” you called. A soft call accompanied by a slight tilt of your head. He looked at you despite himself, lost in the haze you created in his mind. “Are you going to tell me now?” 

Cassian had been wrong, clearly, because the way you looked at him was so sure. You held his hand against your face and a tired smile still lit up your features and you didn’t look scared at all. 

And then the bond within him moved. 

A tug. 

And then another 

You had known all along. 

“You’re my mate.” He stumbled over the words, each falling from his mouth with haste. “My mate.” 

“I am,” you whispered, turning his hand on your cheek to press a kiss to his palm. “And you are mine.” 

“I’m going to kill Cassian,” Azriel mumbled under his breath, but the sound was lost between breaths as you surged forward to kiss him.

And Gods, did he kiss you back. He kissed you and kissed you and forgot every bit of advice from Nesta’s books, because he didn’t need it. All he needed was you and every iteration of the future that was now promised between lips. 

He should have known better than to ask for advice. 

You were his mate. 

He didn’t need sly moves to win you over. 

He didn’t need anything. Just you.

[pawnshopbleus]

On Top

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0

Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.

Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus. 

Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years. 

“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.” 

Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose. 

You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.

“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?” 

“I cheated,” he sighed. 

Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.

Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.” 

Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”

Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus. 

“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with. 

He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.  

He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last. 

Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.

You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss. 

His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.) 

You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.” 

Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner. 

Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt. 

You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?” 

You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”

With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear. 

Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear. 

The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.

“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel. 

Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something. 

Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it. 

Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you. 

Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more. 

His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. 

He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.

Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion

Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out. 

Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock. 

Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling. 

His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure. 

“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.  

You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly. 

Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.

His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more. 

Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite. 

Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship. 

“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.” 

Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.” 

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo. 

“My dad can-” 

“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”

“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”

“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?” 

This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow. 

“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan. 

You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth. 

And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night. 

Turns out Snow does land on top.

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Time to study up on straight people sex!

[verstappen-cult]

If you are taking requests, i was thinking of a poly!lestappen. Where the reader is a F1 presenter and she's excited that Oliver is doing hus debut at Ferrari because its one of her favorite drivers in F2 and both Max and Charles get jealous. Like she asks Charles to take care of Oliver since he's still 18 and its his debut.

You still have forty minutes to spare until you have to go live, so, you make your way to the track, where everyone’s waiting for the Drivers Parade.

You spot your boys pretty easily, they are standing close but deep in conversation with different people. Max is talking with his teammate and Lando, while Charles is talking with Ollie. You really don’t want to interrupt but the Monégasque has already seen you, and for the looks of it, he’s telling the younger boy about you because he turns his head in your direction, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Charles greets you, his arm finding your waist in a second. He loves having you close to him, touching any part of your body.

“Hey, Charlie.” You kiss his cheek, wiping the lipstick stain. “How are you feeling, Ollie? You did amazing yesterday!”

The british boy blushes, a shy smile dancing across his lips. “Oh, thank you. I’m excited and nervous too.” He looks at Charles for a second before turning to you. “Charles has given me some advice, so, I’m feeling a little more confident.”

Lewis calls Ollie’s name, waving at him from the back of the room.

“I’ll see you after the race, I hope?” The younger boy asks, and you nod. He waves goodbye to you and his teammate for a day, and walks away.

“Did you came here to give us a good luck kiss?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice behind you and then a kiss being placed on the top of your head.

“You know it’s something that would never change.” You stand on your tiptoes, kissing Max’s lips briefly, turning to Charles you do the same. “but I also came here to tell you to take care of Ollie,” You say looking at your brown-haired boyfriend. “But you are already doing a good job, so,” This time you look at Max, giving him your best puppy eyes. “Would you do that for me? Just wish him good luck or something before the race, I’m sure he would appreciate that.”

Charles and Max look at you with eyebrows raised, confusion in his eyes.

“What?”

“You came here for that?” Charles says, sounding a little hurt.

“I came here to give my boyfriends a good luck kiss like I always do,” You try to explain that by talking slowly. “But I also came for Ollie. I’ve known him and his family for as long as I’ve known you two.”

But that’s not enough for them, because Max rolls his eyes and looks away.

Okay. They’re acting weird.

“Wait,” You try not to laugh when a thought crosses your mind. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

They avoid making eye contact.

“Oh my God,” And this time you laugh, because you can’t believe it. Sometimes you forget how childish they are. “You are jealous of an eighteen year old boy. Are you aware of that?”

“Well, when you say it like that…”

You shake your head, closing the distance between you and Charles to kiss him one last time. You do exactly the same with Max.

“Good luck, pretty boys.” They watch you walk away, but then you are turning around, stopping to glare at them. “If you don’t take care of Ollie, we won’t be celebrating tonight.”

“What? That’s so unfair!”

“He’s the enemy!”