#magnet is one of the songs ever written

[undressrehearsal]

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch. 

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

Your hand on her thigh crept higher. 

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.) 

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?” 

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?” 

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested. 

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her. 

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything. 

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too. 

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up. 

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction. 

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you. 

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you. 

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there. 

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her. 

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.” 

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you. 

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about? 

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.” 

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button. 

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle. 

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror. 

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin. 

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks. 

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?” 

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look. 

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart. 

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….” 

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly. 

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” 

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right? 

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” 

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps. 

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her. 

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all. 

@filtered-sunlight

[malleleothreesome]

Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand. 

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property. 

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic? 

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater. 

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous. 

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air. 

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this. 

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest. 

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined. 

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor. 

Fellow feels his pants tighten. 

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will. 

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show. 

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks. 

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful. 

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream. 

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes. 

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates. 

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront. 

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll." 

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours." 

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features. 

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

[rucow]

some placements im soft for<3

♐ sagittarius sun: my everlasting obsession. the most magnetic people ive ever met. they're insanely beautiful and enigmatic, they fascinate me. i have no sag placements myself, so idk why im so in love with this sign, but to me they're ethereal and regal in a way. they give me a heartthrob. i adore their facial features and their personality, i love their blunt honesty. these people are majestic and special to me. also very silly.

♏ scorpio mercury: this placement could tell me to jump off a bridge and i probably would. their words and tone can have full control over other people, they have so much power in their voice! even if they speak very quietly, the impact of their words is immense. singers and performers with this placement are impeccable at delivering the most raw emotion to their audience. every time they speak, i feel like i can see and feel their soul. which makes sense, because their mercury is conjunct my moon. i feel compelled to listen to these people. they put me under a spell anytime they speak (or sing). also, i love it when they go detective mode trying to solve a ~mystery~

🌠 mercury-neptune conjunctions: ethereal, mesmerising, haunting. i noticed that a lot of singers i listen to have this placement, and you can really feel it. ive always had dreams (and nightmares) about songs written and sung by people with this placement, they're absolutely haunting in such an addictive way. they're out of this world. beautifully poetic people.

♎ libra moon: some of the sweetest people ive ever met. they're so soft and sensitive, even if they don't seem like it. somewhat of a role model to me, i looked up to them so much only to find out im a libra moon myself in sidereal astrology. i have an urge to protect these people and reassure them that their feelings are valid. they have the most beautiful smiles.

��� gemini moon: maybe it's because my own moon is in the 3rd house, but i find these people very relatable. the amount of hate and misunderstanding ive seen them receive is plain cruel. i think these are some of the most genuine people, and i appreciate it when they speak their mind. silly factor off the charts

♑ capricorn placements (any): i haven't gotten to know you too well yet, but you're always like a breath of fresh air. im intrigued by you! i feel i have so much to learn from you.

♏ scorpio sun: the kindest most understanding people ive ever met. sure, there's been a few bad apples here and there, but so many scorpios ive met have helped me heal, even if indirectly. they've had a huge huge impact on me and im always thankful for that.

♐ sagittarius mars: i adore these people's energy. my mars is in aries but at the 9° degree (a sagittarius degree), and i feel like being around these people is so fun. very very playful people with an outstanding positive energy, they are silliness personified and i love that about them.

♒ aquarius venus: i didn't care much for this placement at first, seeing as it's my own, but looking through works written by aquarius venus artists has hit something deep inside of me. there's something sad about your heart being in this saturnian, fixed sign. it's like a prison. you fully commit to people once you think you've found "the one", and break-ups can be brutal for you. you don't show it on the outside, but your suffering shows in your art, and im sorry i didn't see it sooner. your understanding of the world is very real and fascinating, and you're such a devoted friend. ive grown to understand and appreciate this placement a lot more than i did before.

though i only talk about a few specific placements here, every sign is special in their own way. ily all, take care of yourselves 💖

[beetlejuicyy]

Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

1. Ultimatum

Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?

Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating

Word count: 2,254

Series masterlist:

1. Ultimatum

2. Wash Away

3. Only Memories

4. Vengeance

Read on AO3

Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is

General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry

“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.

“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.

“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.

“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.

“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.

You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.

“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”

He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.

“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.

“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.

“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”

He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.

“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.

How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”

“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he���ll give it to me.”

“I can buy it for you.”

Slap.

Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.

“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”

“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.

“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”

“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.

“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”

“You really want me to slap you again.”

“Only if you can bear the consequences.”

You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.

No more gaslighting.

No more forgiveness without an apology.

No more loving by yourself for the both of you.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.

“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.

“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.

“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.

“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.

“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.

Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.

“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.

“I’m busy, what is it?”

“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.

“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.

“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.

“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.

“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.

《previous Ascension | next》 2. Wash Away

True Form! Sukuna x Reader

[szoboobszlai]

DOES HE KNOW?

pairing: ex-situationship!jude bellingham x female reader

warnings: none i guess

author notes: hi! this is the first time i wrote something like this and also the first time i have ever written something entirely in english – since it's not my first language, you may find some grammar mistakes. anyways, hope you enjoy it! 🤍✨

| edit: this is the first part of my one direction lyric-based writing series! you can find the full writing list here.

it was passing through jude’s head all night.

you, in that tight little skirt, were the only thing he could pay attention to – the other girls around him?

he didn’t even notice.

the only thing he noticed was the way you were dancing in that nightclub partnerless. that man you were going out with just didn’t show up? did you broke up this “thing” you had with him?

jude didn’t know.

in fact, you and jude were in a situationship for a few months last summer, in where he was on vacation from real madrid. nothing that serious for any of you – he was a world class player and you knew that you shouldn’t involve with this kind of man; you weren't a football groupie, after all.

he felt different, but never told you.

after he went back to madrid to restart the intense training routine, he knew that you started going out with another man; people told jude that you were with this guy named josh, and he actually saw both of you in a party a few weeks before.

jude knew the man knows a few things about you: your secret tattoo, your favorite band, the songs that you sing when you’re all alone.

but you’re not with josh tonight.

does he know that you try to hide your smile when jude bellingham catch your eye and see you looking at him?

does he know you can move like that just for jude to see it?

jude bet he didn’t.

— uh... hey. — he said when he got closer to you on the dance floor.

— hi, jude. — you answered, trying to not seem so nervous; it was jude bellingham, after all.

you knew he was that magnetic, with his dark eyes that could see through your soul and that strong and elegant woody scent you already knew.

you face each other for a while; his gaze gave you goosebumps, and you had exactly the same effect on him.

— it’s been a while, right? — he says shyly, almost afraid of your answer. — so... have you been alone tonight?

— yes, it’s been a while. i only see you in your games through the TV. — you confess. — and yes, i’m on my own tonight.

your red-lined smile made jude’s heart skip a beat; so you have been cheering on him last season, even with him playing on a team in another country?

actually, it was pretty nice for him to hear it.

— doesn't josh get jealous when he sees you watching to another men on TV? — jude asks. doesn't he get jealous when he sees you watching jude on TV? doesn't he get jealous seeing you cheering for a man that still wanted you so bad?

— i didn't care if he jealous or not, actually. — you answer, for jude’s surprise. — josh knew a lot about me, but nothing about me.

the silence between you overcame the loud music that echoed through the walls of the nightclub.

— how could him know you head to toe and yet don't know nothing about you?

— well... he’s not you, jude.

he knew that. jude bellingham knows you inside and out; he memorized every single detail of your face, the songs that you sing when you're all alone. everything about you.

the way you talked got him mesmerized.

the way he looked at you, with his lips slightly open, while the song was playing loudly on the background, got you thinking about how much you missed being in his arms.

as if jude was reading your mind, he closes the space between both of you, sealing your lips with a peck that turned into a loving kiss.

the way his hands fit perfectly in your waist, tracing every inch of your body, was making you insane.

the way he kissed your neck passionately, even if you were in the crowd, showed that he barely cared about being the worldwide famous footballer.

tonight, he was just yours.

does he know that you wanted him so bad?

[austinbutlerslovers]

You're my favourite Austin writer on here I think you're amazing!

Please can I ask you to write an Austin x fem reader smut based on False God by Taylor Swift? It's one of my favourite songs and i think its so Austin coded 😭

False God

Label Mature 18+

Summary

Based on the lyrics ‘False God’ by Talylor Swift

Established relationship girlfriend

💝Romantic Smut 💝

passionate foreplay • oral receiving fem•clit play•p in v • orgasms •cream pies

Special thank to the requester. This is the first time I’ve written this style it was very difficult thank you for your patience . 🙏🏻

Master List ••• Upcoming List

False God

Above the bustling streets of vibrant downtown town New York city, you sit in the window of the high rise penthouse apartment you share with Austin. He landed over an hour ago at JFK international and you were frequently checking your phone to see when he would be arriving home to you.

He used to fly you with him to public events but as he became more famous he thought it better you remain out of sight. As his pay increased with his movies he moved you from your shared one bedroom loft to a five bedroom penthouse downtown. When the shopping sprees, vacations and lavish dinners began, so did your insecurities.

You would stare over at him, your once shy timid boyfriend now engaging a table full of his famous costars. He was confident and brilliant, even more beautiful than before.

His charming smile, dazzling blue eyes and perfect features were only enhanced by his new jewelry, clothing, and stylish haircuts of his sandy brown hair.

You tried to stop yourself but you couldn’t help it, you became insecure as his girlfriend. The more he left town the more you checked his name on social media, the later he would stay out for premieres the later you would stay up until he returned.

When he was in town and he was able to spend time with you amidst the chaos of everyday life, you two found solace in each other's embrace.

But deep down you were terrified he would leave you now. He had everything he ever wished for from having nothing when you two first met.

You were a free spirited artist with a passion for painting who worked as a secretary for a famous art studio. You gained notoriety on Instagram as soon as you posted your first official piece which is how you still gain many of your clients. today.

Your job and artwork paid the bills while Austin attended acting classes then. You knew he was special, though he was extremely shy as himself, he blossomed when he was in character. You witnessed his raw talent many nights when he would read scripts in your living room.

You knew without a doubt he would be famous and helped him in every way possible to reach his goal. With his charismatic personality, unwavering love, and passion for sex combined you were head over heels in love with him.

You two met one fateful evening under the glow of neon lights at one of your studios art exhibits in the West Village.

All of the artists were instructed to incorporate clear luminous paint into their work so their creations would glow once the exhibit switched to black light above them for a big reveal.

Austin was there with his friends from theater class because he was a lover of the arts. As soon as the black lights were switched on Austin was drawn to your painting with an unwavering attraction.

He asked immediately if it was possible to meet the artist and your manager called you over. The connection was instant like a magnetic pull drawing you two together as if it were destiny. He was tall, handsome, and shy, his smile flashed when his blue eyes lit up seeing you for the first time and you knew it was love at first sight.

He had long blonde hair then and wore a baggy plaid shirt with a black tee beneath. His skinny jeans and vans giving away he was either an aspiring actor or a musician. As you two delved deeper into each other's worlds, you discovered a shared love for the unconventional, the unspoken, and the untamed.

You brought him back to your apartment immediately after the show. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you; in the cab, the elevator, and even at your front door. Once you fumbled into your apartment he began taking of his clothing.

You waited and watched as he revealed he was hiding the fittest muscled body you’d ever seen beneath his modest clothing. When he mentioned he would be flying to New Zealand to film a show as an elf you were not expecting his body to be the most sexually desirable one you’d ever seen. You were extremely turned on by him.

As he stood fully naked in your living room with his shoulder length blonde hair and his large cock you began to strip off your clothing too.

He smiled and came closer helping you pull off your shoulder straps to drop your dress, then he kneeled down pulling your panties off as you stepped out of them. As he rose to stand taller than you he placed his hand beneath your hair and held the nape of your neck pulling you to him and sinking his lips onto yours in a deeply powerful kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of pure, unbridled emotion. Austin kissed you passionately as you both felt the sparks igniting between you two. He enjoyed the feeling so much he smiled and began to open his lips onto yours lingering on your kisses with an extreme warmth that turned you on so much you became wet.

“I have …a condom.”he said between kisses “I’m on …birth control.” You whispered back against his lips. Hearing your verbal consent he easily picked you up into his strong arms taking his hands cupping them one at a time under your thighs making you wrap your legs around his waist

He was so strong and the moment was so intense you shivered as he stared into yours eyes. He confidently smiled and you knew he was going to make you his. “Where’s you bedroom “ he asked staring at your lips. Looking closely at his angelic face as he easily carried you made you lose all of your resolve you couldn’t even speak you just pointed the way and he smiled. He knew you were his.

He gently tossed you down on your bed and kneeled between your legs pulling you to the edge. “Can I taste you? “ he asked permission and you nodded eagerly.

With a gentle yet confident touch, he reached his hands up and spread your thighs apart. Your core was already throbbing when he placed his tongue to your folds. He grazed it up and down your sensitive wet folds until it sent a shiver up your spine. Your hands immediately flew to his long hair pulling and tugging it as you praised him.

He leaned in pressing his mouth onto your folds trying to reach the depths of your core with his tongue lapping which sent shockwaves throughout your entire body. His tongue was relentless and electrifying, while his mouth sucked your folds tenderly. With each skilled lick and suck from his mouth you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming desire that consumed you.

You tried to calm your imminent orgasm but it was too late. Your legs began to quiver lost in the intoxicating sensation of him eating you out. When he pressed his thumb into your clit and swirled it you gasped. Overcome by the sheer intensity of the moment you orgasmed for him melting into a pool of ecstasy as your core uncoiled. He licked your folds of your cum and trailed kisses as he climbed your body.

Starting from the soft skin of your navel, his kisses moved with a feather light touch, tracing the contours of your waist. With each press of his lips, your skin came alive, electrified by the intimacy.

As he journeyed upward, his kisses grew bolder, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. The warmth of his breath against your skin between kisses sent a rush of heat coursing through your veins, reigniting the fire deep within your core.

His hands cupped your breasts pressing each one with a tender kiss before he rested his chest onto yours. It seemed like time stood still as you stared into each others eyes feeling your hearts beating in perfect rhythm. His lips finally met yours again, and you both knew that this was the beginning of your relationship. Your heart was pounding in anticipation of what was to come

His fingers Intertwined with yours on the sheets before he lifted his hips and gently thrust into you. The pleasure of his large cock was exquisite. You arced your back as he stretched you out and filled you with his passion. Each of his thrusts carried the promise of so much more as he hit depths you never knew existed . It dulled the ache of your sexual desire and refilled it with an overwhelming sense of longing for him, only he could fill you this way.

With each thrust your bodies mingled together feeling your connection growing stronger with the sounds of your moans filling the air. As you reached your peak he looked into your eyes filled with a warmth that mirrored the same affection you had for him. Without a word he cupped your face in his hands wanting to gaze into your eyes knowing you he felt the same.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the weight of his gaze, a silent admission between you two. And in that moment, you knew that you wanted nothing more than to lean in and lose yourself in the depths of his desires.

With a soft moan your walls fluttered as Austin thrust into your body and you came for him closing the distance between you two. His lips met yours with a tender kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. In that fleeting moment time stood still and the world around you faded into obscurity as he came in you too and you melted into each other's embrace.

Wrapped in the warmth of each other's arms after you both orgasmed, you surrendered to the enchantment of the night. Your fresh new love painting the canvas of the universe with hues of passion and promise.

You lay naked and cuddling together whispering and sweet nothings into the night, knowing that this was just the beginning of your fated love story written by the universe.

But this love story was not without its challenges. Insecurities and doubts always lingered in the shadows, threatening to overshadow your bliss.

Austin thought you would leave him for a wealthy patron from your gallery in the beginning when he was struggling to find work. The arguments were like hell and you almost quit your job.

Now you feel that he will leave you for a famous actress or model having seen the more extravagant side of life. Seeing him on more than one occasion lingering and hugging females to closely at events you dared him to leave you.

But just like the calm after a storm on an ocean separating you two, the tensions dissolved and peace reigned once again. One of you would always bring the wine out which would start the flow of tender reconciliation, where words were replaced by gentle touches and heartfelt apologies.

Hearing Austins key turning in the lock surprises you, he didn’t text he had arrived before entering, but as he opens the door you rush to greet him. He is holding a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. He looks ravishing with his short sandy blonde lightly layered in waves.

Your lips meet as you embrace and your kisses are filled with passion and longing. He brings his hand to gently cradle your face and just his simple touch sends waves of warmth coursing through your body. “I missed you so much baby” he says finally breaking the kiss .”I missed you too austin.“ you say smiling.

Austin hands you your beautiful flowers. “I’m so sorry I’m late I had to get these for you I know they’re your favorite. Will you put them away while I shower then come into the bedroom.” He says pulling your head to his lips planting another kiss as he smiles “Yes of course Austin.” You say sweetly.

You do as he says washing them and finding a vase filling it with water. Next you carry the flowers in the vase and place them on the dining room table.

You enter the bedroom and Austin is still in the shower, you can hear his melodic voice singing and it makes you smile.

You hear his singing stop as he turns off the water and you strip down to your bra and panties in anticipation for him to come out of the shower.

The master bathroom door opens and you look at Austins body with a towel wrapped snugly around his waist. Each muscle is defined and sculpted like a work of art. His broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, creating a silhouette that exudes confidence and athleticism. Droplets of water glisten on his skin and his hair, with the scent of his soap and shampoo lingering in the air.

The corners of his lips curve upward in a mischievous grin as he looks at you with playful intent. You both have the same idea.

His lips part ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of his teeth, adding an air of allure to his devilish smile. “ did you miss me baby?” He says with a subtle tilt of his head. He drops his towel and your eyes immediately fall to his hardened cock. He exudes so much confidence and charm, as he stands naked in your bedroom that he’s practically daring you.

You immediately unhook your bra and pull off your panties and slowly approach each other.

Your arms wrap around each others bodies, pulling close as your lips meet in a sweet lingering kiss that turns electrifying.

Austin lays you down on the bed and trails kisses down your body. It’s a slow, deliberate descent, igniting a trail of sensation along your skin. With each kiss your breath quickens and your pulse races with escalating passion. He kisses every curve and dip making you a canvas for his lips to cover. You exert a gentle yet firm grasp into his hair conveying your desire for him that can no longer wait and he smiles looking up at you taking his cue.

He climbs your body and aligns himself between your legs sliding his large cock into the warmth of your wet entrance. He fills you completely when his tip meeting your core.

He thrusts his cock into you repeatedly in a rhythm of precision and determination. With each thrust, your coil tightens until, it springs free. There is a satisfying release of tensions as Austin grinds against your throbbing core creating a symphony of sounds and motions from you both in ecstasy. With each thrust you both feel a sense of accomplishment, knowing you are getting lost in the highs of each other’s orgasms.

As Austin fills you with his passions on the expensive duvet covers of the king sized bed It ignites the fires within you both that burns the brightest when you are together. A promise of devotion that transcends words.

As you finally pull away, your breaths mingle in the space between as you gaze into each other’s eyes knowing you both found something rare and precious, a love that would weather any storm and stand the test of time.

Together, you navigated the maze of modern romance unafraid to confront your fears and embrace each others flaws. For in each other's arms, you found your truest selves, imperfect yet perfectly matched.

You and Austin put on robes to enjoy each others company after the intimate encounter. You wanted to view the city that you loved out on the balcony. Austin brought a bottle of wine to pour you both glasses to enjoy before bed.

As you stood hand in hand, gazing into each others eyes above the city lights in your New York City high rise drinking wine together you knew that your love was your sanctuary, your false god, and your salvation all rolled into one.

🩷End 🩷

🏷️ Always Tag Me List 💌

@faegoddessog @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @star017 @buckysteveloki-me @cauliflowercounty @thegabbyh @dacreshoney @elvismylove04 @emeraldsgirl @fallofthedamned @lindszeppelin @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @feydsociety @phil2135561 @softboo

[ineffable-rohese]

Neil's picks for Aziraphale & Crowley's Angelic Playlist were Cry Me a River (Julie London), The Book of Love (Peter Gabriel), and The Show Must Go On (Queen).

Three songs. Two about the aftermath of a break up, and one about coming together in love. So very clearly, we can infer a Crowley POV song, an Aziraphale POV song, and a song for the two of them and their happily ever after. (Song lyrics for all three after the cut for reference.)

The Book of Love is a perfect wedding song. It's a song to play under two people declaring their desire to spend eternity together. With lines about dancing and reading and it's perfect. It's originally a Magnetic Fields song that was released in 1999. Peter Gabriel recorded a cover in 2004 for the movie Shall We Dance about which I know nothing but the Wikipedia summary. But since we know how movies are important here... It's a standard rom-com with a bored Richard Gere secretly taking up ballroom dancing after following a pretty lady from the train (J-Lo). His wife (Susan Sarandon) thinks he's cheating, turns out nope, just dancing, drama ensues, he gives up dancing but eventually his wife becomes supportive and he realizes he loves his wife. And dancing. And they live happily ever after, with both of them getting what they want. Maybe we can draw some parallels here? But I think the song speaks for itself better than its connection with what sounds like a standard early 2000s romcom.

The individual songs are where it gets interesting.

Cry Me a River was first released by Julie London in 1951, but became popular after she sang it in the 1956 film The Girl Can't Help It starring Jayne Mansfield as an aspiring rock 'n roll singer. Again, relying on Wikipedia here, but there is an interesting bit about a blossoming forbidden relationship, wiretapped phones, and someone editing the recordings to keep the love affair secret. But again, it's probably a stretch to look too deeply into the movie.

The song has a very classic jazz feel. It's from a decade and a half later, but if you were, say, an angel who enjoyed Moonlight Serenade or A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square, it has a similar feel. You definitely wouldn't say it's bebop. The lyrics are about someone who was in love and had their heartbroken. Their former love (who never shed a tear over the break up) has returned and wants to make up. The singer essentially says "you love me? Prove it. Cry me a river like I cried when you left." Which, fair, but in our context, ouch.

The Show Must Go On is a Queen song, and we know how much Queen we hear in association with Crowley in particular. But this just isn't any Queen song. It was written by Brian May about Freddie Mercury's struggles as he neared the end of his life, and it was recorded in 1990. (Coincidentally or not, the year Good Omens was published, a book co-created by friends, one of whom would die too soon, and the other of whom would reflect on his friend's end of life struggles as the story was told more fully. Yes, I'm crying about this.)

In the song, the singer is fighting to reach a place of freedom, away from empty spaces and heartbreak. They are fighting with pure will, and even though their heart is breaking they smile and carry on because the show must go on.

What I really appreciate here with the POV songs, is that they are cross-coded. Queen is Crowley-coded, but the song about someone fighting through heartbreak to achieve something vital, while forcing a smile for the audience? That's absolutely Aziraphale in Heaven. And the 40s/50s jazz ballad is absolutely Aziraphale's style, but the jilted lover who may be willing to give their love a second chance but needs to see proof that the lover cares as much as they do is Crowley all the way.

It's almost like... Well it's almost like even in their separation, they are each carrying a piece of the other. The book of love has music in it, indeed.

The Book of Love

The book of love is long and boring No one can lift the damn thing It's full of charts and facts, and figures And instructions for dancing But I I love it when you read to me. And you You can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it In fact that's where music comes from Some of it's just transcendental Some of it's just really dumb But I I love it when you sing to me And you You can sing me anything

The book of love is long and boring And written very long ago It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes And things we're all too young to know But I I love it when you give me things And you You ought to give me wedding rings

Cry Me a River

Now you say you're lonely You cry the whole night thorough Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

Now you say you're sorry For bein' so untrue Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head While you never shed a tear Remember, I remember all that you said Told me love was too plebeian Told me you were through with me and

Now you say you love me Well, just to prove you do Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river I cried a river over you

The Show Must Go On

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for?

Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance Another heartache, another failed romance, on and on Does anybody know what we are living for? I guess I'm learning I must be warmer now I'll soon be turning, round the corner now Outside the dawn is breaking But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free

The show must go on The show must go on Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on The show must go on I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on On with the show Show Show must go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on, go on

[braxlrose]

PLEASE MAKE 2005 BILL HCS 🙏🏻🙇🏻‍♀️

I based this on the song Ich Bin Nich' Ich from their Schrei album so I hope you enjoy!

content warnings: bill being sad? 😭 lots of angst yk (which if you've been here for a while you'd know I actually LOVE writing angst) idk if this is considered toxic bc the way I've written it, it's very much filled with codependency to like a point where without a person youre suffering so 😬.

summary: bill misses you more than anything right now.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: for this fanfic, you're dating Bill at the time and have been for a little while, and it's set in like 2004/2005. I decided to do this bc Ich Bin Nich' Ich is literally my favorite song from Schrei sooo I can't wait to write this. I'm not sure if anybody else has done this so if they have please tell me! also, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list 💖💖

+ this is from bills perspective

Ich Bin Nich' Ich

meine augen schaun mich müde an und finden keinen trost

I laid down in my bed, my head pounding achingly from tonight's show. Sweat dripped down my forehead and rolled onto my pillow as I turned over. My shallow breathing was catching up to me and my eyes closed ever-so lightly. The cold pillow was a perfect embrace after the show tonight. Well—almost perfect.

My heart twinged with sadness as you came into my head. You always sat in the back of my head like a lingering melody, haunting and sweet. My mind never was able to get fully rid of you, especially now since we're on tour. Your soft and supple hands always seemed to fit perfectly in mine. You're glistening eyes, staring back at me and that enchanting smile that sat flawlessly upon your face. Nothing could ever pull me away from staring at you when we were together. Everything about you always made me feel like we were destined to be brought together, we fit so well with each other and our bodies seemed to always be pulling towards each other like magnets.

My fingernails dug into the bed sheets as I closed my eyes to "watch" you. Who cares if I couldn't see you right now, right? I could always close my eyes and watch the way your perfect body; your perfect everything, moved like the water as you glided through the air, running towards me whenever we would see each other again.

That wouldn't be for months, though..

The coldness of my pillow was fading as my body denied itself rest. I couldn't fall asleep with the sound of your angelic voice, whispering in my head. Which was ironic, because that voice was the same one that always helped me fall asleep on my hardest nights. Nothing right now could ever comfort me.. not unless you showed up.

I groaned in annoyance as a soft knock cracked against my door. Who needs to talk to me right now, it's 11 o' clock at night.

I pulled myself up off of my bed; the bedsheets lightly sticking to my skin from the sweat that once dripped from my body. Walking felt like trying to pull myself through quicksand, all I wanted to do was to see you. You see you—no, feel you jump into my arms and press your beautiful lips up against mine.

God, how amazing that would feel right now.

My body finally brought itself to the door and my hand slowly pulled it open to see a face I had known for quite some time.

"Tom?" I mumbled out, pressed my face into the tinted wall, "What are you doing up here?" I asked, my breath feeling heavy again.

"We're going to a party, are you coming or are you going to coop yourself up in your room again, for the nth time in a row." He spouted at me.

I rolled my eyes before telling him I'd be staying in my room again. He may have seemed a little agitated about that, but from the way he was looking at me, I think he could tell what was wrong. He always knew what was wrong.

"It's always obvious, your eyes tell us everything, Bill.." He would say to me every once in a while when I felt down. I guess I was never the one who was good at hiding my feelings, especially from my brother.

ich kann mich nich' mehr mit ansehen—bin ich los

alles was hier mal war—kann ich nich' mehr in mir finden

I forced myself into the bathroom, my hands gripping onto the sink in front of me as my eyes hesitated to look myself in the face. I'm sure I looked awful. Ever since I met you, I never felt like myself without you. You brought the me out of me. That's what I loved about you so much.

My eye makeup was smeared a bit and some of my mascara had run down my cheeks. I honestly looked like a mess. I blinked in the mirror, watching myself crumble. I needed you so badly. This was one of the hard nights, the hard nights when I really needed you.

The water i splashed upon my face dripped down my neck as my eyes slowly came upwards to look myself in the face.

I could never seem to see myself when you weren't with me, you always made me feel so much better. About everything and anything. I'm still not sure how you did it..

alles weg—wie im wahn, seh ich mich immer mehr verschwinden

My freshly dried face from a cotton towel felt stiff as tears rolled down my cheeks. My eyes stung with a fiery intensity that only someone as gracious and wonderful as you.

My body didn't seem like my own anymore as I crashed down against the soft, recently sweaty bed. Makeup smeared on the pillow as my cheek rested against it, staring over at the dimly lit; slightly sparky (?) lamp next to me. The curtains surrounding my room seemed to understand my awful being right now as I could feel more tears threatening to spill over my waterline, down my face.

I could almost swear this was an out of body experience, maybe I was just tired. Everything around me felt like a dream and I could feel myself slipping away. My body, my dreams, my everything. Nothing felt real anymore. Not when I'm away from you.

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

und das was jetzt noch von mir übrig ist...

My breath was caught in my throat as more memories of you poured into my head.

××× I remember the first time I saw you—

Walking outside the studio while everybody else finished up inside, the cold wind blowing in my face, brushing my hardened bangs to the side. My teeth lightly chattered as you flowed by me. I could swear you were an angel.

From your angelic face, to your scent. You were absolutely perfect and I was infatuated with you. I remember thinking someone like you would never go for someone like me.. right?

How happy I was when I figured out I was wrong.

From the way you held yourself to your laughter to your strength. You were everything I was looking for and more. How could I stumble upon love so quickly? How was I so lucky to have you enthralled with me.

You had never even heard of my band yet, you weren't a crazy, obsessed fan girl. You weren't someone looking for a one night stand or someone who wanted fame by association. You were so beautiful and real and absolutely raw. I still don't understand sometimes why you chose me, but I'm so glad you did.

×××

but here... without you. I feel as though I've lost a part of me. Like I'm not me when I'm not with you. I don't feel whole and I don't think I will until we've been reunited.

××× you're bright red, slushy red tongue seemed to gawk at my blue one as we laughed. I laid my around around you as we walked through the park. I finally had a day off from rehearsing and playing live shows, to hang out with you.

I swear my heart was going to explode out of my chest just from staring down into your beautiful eyes. The way you were staring up at me—i don't think I had ever loved somebody so much. You were my true "everything".

××× your warm breath, slowly yet calmly blowing against my neck as you fell into a deep slumber was probably one of the most relaxing things I could ever dream of. My arms were wrapped around you as the TV quietly played in the background. My body had never felt so amazing. And now with you—you just made everything so much better.

My hands glided into your hair as you snuggled closer into me. With the warm air surrounding us and the soft hum of the noise around us. Everything seemed absolutely perfect.

How could I live without you?

will ich nich' sein

draußen hängt der himmel schief

und an der Wand dein abschiedsbrief

ich bin nich' ich wenn du nich' bei mir bist—bin ich allein

I slowly closed my eyes, my body finally relaxing. Ever-so slightly, at least. We'd be together again soon, I'm not sure why tonight was so hard for me, to be without you.. but I cannot wait to see your sparkling beauty staring back at me when we come together again. I don't feel like myself right now, but hopefully with time, you will bring that back to me...

sorry this isn't longer 😭 I hope you guys enjoyed this though! also here are the English translations for the lyrics. They're pretty accurate, but some stuff may be a little off 😞

translations:

one: My eyes show off all of my sadness, and find no comfort here.

two: I can't face myself anymore, I'm not me.

three: Everything that was here, I cannot find myself inside me.

four: Swept away like a dream, I see myself vanish more and more.

five: I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, i'm all alone.

six: And everything that is still left of me.

seven: I don't want to be outside the heavens hang a slope and on the wall your farewell note. I'm not myself when you're not, not with me, I'm alone.

also this isn't proofread, so if there are any mistakes sorry!!

taglist: none yet

[space-helen]

E.T

Words: 739

Pairing: Spock x Reader

A/N: This is the first thing I've written since last October so... I'm sorry if this is clunky. I'm note sure which Spock you wanted it for so I went AOS but I think it's pretty 'neutral' Spock if that makes sense?

Request: Spock's reaction to female reader singing the song E.T. by Katy Perry cause the reader lost a bet to Kirk so now she has to sing that song to basically admit she likes Spock. As a added bonus you can add a part where Spock tells Kirk that was unnecessary since he and the reader are already dating. If you don't like the bonus idea just ignore it! Keep up the awesome writing! - @originaltyphoonkryptonite

______________________

“You’re not being serious?”

“I won Y/N. A deals a deal.” Jim said with a smile.

You rolled your eyes “The song is so, incredibly, old. Could you not pick something more current?” 

“It just makes it funnier. It’s a classic.” the man put his hand on your back and began to guide you towards Spock's quarters. 

Grumbling as you went he quickly shoved you inside. Spock stood from where he was sitting and looked between the two of you. “What is the problem? You look distressed.” his eyes fell to you.

“Nothing, nothing.” you turned around to leave but Jim stopped you and turned you back around. 

“Y/L/N.” it was almost a warning from your Captain.

“Spock.” you looked at the man before looking down at the floor and hesitating, this was so embarrassing “You’re so hypnotizing.”

“Y/N” Spock spoke, grounded to his spot as Jim nudged you.

“Could you be the devil? Could you be an angel?”

“Sing” Jim whispered under his breath.

You sighed and the next parts came out with some tune “Your touch, magnetizing, feels like I am floating. Leaves my body glowing.” the following lines came out rushed and you took a break.

“Properly now.” Jim encouraged.

“Y/N please-” came Spocks voice as he took a step towards you. 

“Kiss me, ki-ki kiss me. Infect me with your lovin’ fill me with your poison. Take me, ta-ta-take me. Wanna be your victim ready for abduction. Boy, you’re an alien. Your touch, so foreign It’s supernatural. Extraterrestrial.” you quickly turned to Jim “Happy now?”

“The whole song-”

“I’m not singing the whole song Jim that’s ridiculous. I think you’ve made me get my point across alright?” 

“And what point would that be Captain?” Spock questioned Jim directly.

“Come on Spock, think about the words. What do you think she’s trying to tell you?”

“Was this your scheme to get Y/N to tell me that she finds me attractive?”

“Well… Yes it was.” he moved his hand to the back of his neck and looked at you.

“Did it ever occur to you that I may already know this?”

“You- Then why would you pass up the opportunity?” you watch Jim sweat under the pressure.

“Did you consider in any way that Y/N and I may be in a relationship at present?”

“You’re what?” the man looked between the two of you “Impossible. Actually impossible. Why would Y/N have been so scared to come here and sing?”

“We were keeping it a secret” you pitched in “We didn’t want everyone to know right away. Plus I was so embarrassed. I don’t like singing in front of people.The whole situation was just awkward.” you made a gesture to the room.

“I take your point but really? You weren’t going to tell me?”

Spock came to stand beside you as you spoke “We were going to tell you at the game night on Saturday.”

“We thought it would be best to tell everyone at the same time. Before we go on shore leave. To give you all time to digest the information.”

Jim nodded “Right.” he hesitated for a second “So I’m not allowed to tell anyone before Saturday?”

You shook your head “we’d prefer it if you didn’t”

“So I won’t get the joy of telling everyone I got the two of you together.”

You beamed with a smile “No Jim, no you won’t. But you can keep that little narrative in your head if that makes you happier.”

“That I will.” he smiled. He gave the two of you one last look and you could see a gleam in his eyes. “I should leave the two of you love birds to it.” turning on his heels he quickly left. You heard him clap his hands together and laugh as he moved through the doorway “perfect just perfect.” 

As the door closed behind him you wrapped your arm around Spock and gave him a side hug. “I’m sorry. Jim insisted.”

“It was probably for the best. He may have combust if he found out with the others on Saturday.”

“You’re not wrong there.” breaking away from the hug you straightened out your uniform. “I’ll catch you later, I should probably get back to work.”

“I await your return.” he watched as you walked out of his quarters and he could feel his eyes expression soften in admiration.

Tag List: (open, please ask if you want to be added)

All Star Trek: @heyitsaloy  @angel-with-wings-castiel @starfleet-imagines @perasperaadastrawriting @butchers-girl

All Fics: @perasperaadastrawriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @trippol-threat @captainsophiestark 

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

1. The Beginning

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Series Masterlist

Strangers, friends, lovers. Isn’t that the natural flow of things? The instinctive humane magnet that pulls two souls together; wasn’t that just the way of life? I often wonder if I had never laid eyes on him would the word still be intact? If I had never said yes to the role, if I had just moved on to another project, maybe my world would still be turning. I could still have a real body, real blood flowing through my veins. I almost remember what it felt like to bleed. Is it strange that I missed it? The pain? In this sorry excuse of a world, I guess anything can be normalized. Sadly I can’t recall what happiness used to feel like. I assume amazing and warm.

I stare into the cracked mirror, dusting the powder over my face, touching up the tattooed perfection. "Ready in 5," Conor speaks from the curtain. "Thank you," I take one last look into the remains of myself. I press my hand to my chest, feeling the light thump of my heart, one of the remaining parts of who this woman used to be. I stand, the black shawl dragging the ground behind me, the edges ripped and frayed. I pass Conor, grabbing the glass of water and drowning it down. "You've got a big crowd tonight." I smile at him, the facade growing. "Why wouldn't I? Even in this wasteland, I'm still the best singer the world has ever seen." A light centers onto the stage in the back of the venue. I step out beginning the set.

~

217 YEARS AGO

The crowd applause rings through the venue. I raise both my arms taking a bow, soaking in their appreciation. I blow a kiss before sauntering off the stage and behind the curtains where my assistant waits with refreshments. "Honey, I've got someone I want you to meet.” I roll my eyes knowing exactly what that means. “I’m not taking the time today, Louis.” He proceeds to grab my elbow and guide me to the dressing room. “Yes, you are. Especially when it’s a director.” My ears peek at the mention. “A director?”

The door swings open and I see a man sitting on my sofa. Expensive suit and tie, most definitely involved in the business. “There she is!” He extends his arm, grasping my hands, “Our Nation's sweetheart. Boy, my wife is going to be upset at this one.” I smile at him. “Well, the pleasure is all mine. I hope you enjoyed the show.” He beams at me, “the show? Oh, I could’ve watched for hours.”

Louis steps in, tossing my robe over my shoulders and taking my jewelry off my limbs. “Mr. Vander is here to discuss an opportunity for you.”

Mr. Vander nods with excitement brewing. “I certainly am! I’m casting a new film, Under the Covers, and I want you to be our leading lady.” I open my mouth, eyes widening “You know I’m a singer, not an actress, right?” Mr. Vander waves his hands in protest. “That's just the thing! I've had some written songs for the film. It's not a full-blown musical, but I'm widening my wings. I guarantee you will do just peachy!” I twiddle my fingers. “I don’t know, Mr. Vander. The big screen? Me? I just can’t see it.” Mr. Vander slides a script across the table. “Take a look, give me a call. No pressure, Sweetie.” He leaves without another word.

As soon as the door closes Louis is flipping through the pages. “You’re doing this.” I sigh at his words. “Can’t I take a break? It’s been show after show, and now I finally have some time off and you want me to go out to California and embarrass myself? I’ve got a lucky set of cords, that’s all.” I begin to wipe away my makeup.

Louis chuckles as he reads a line from the page. “You would kill this role. She’s a sassy badass. Look! Just read this line right here.” He pushes the paper into my face as I sit. I look over the words with a light giggle before turning to gaze at myself in the mirror. Louis begins, “I made a bad call.” I roll my eyes, “you think? Just sit there and let me do all the work. You men are sure good at causing trouble, but you ain’t too good at getting out of it. That’s where you need me.” I bite my lip as I finish reading. It would be fun to star in a film. Different and unique. I would still be able to sing. Not many singers get the chance to branch out like this. I wave my hand with confidence. “Oh, what the hell? Why not. I’m in.” Louis jumps up in celebration.

The following week I was on the set of a real movie. Trailers lined the lot, makeup bags and racks of clothes in every corner, and people buzzed around in their madness. Louis stands behind me, hands on my shoulders, “You got this.”

“Excuse me? Hi there, I'm Mr. Vander's executive assistant.” A woman asked directly. “If you would follow me. Mr. Vander wanted to make sure of your arrival.” Louis hauls my bag behind him as we follow the woman through the busy lot.

“Mr. Vander? Your star is here.” He flies out of his seat and grabs my hands, kissing my knuckles. “Ah! My leading lady! My Songbird! I am so happy you decided to say yes. We are going to make this such a special film. Now if you please follow me, I’d like to introduce you to your costar.” Walking a short way, we stop at a scenic backdrop where a man is walking down the street. He dips down an alleyway silently. He tips his hat slightly, before walking towards a building in question. Loud bells ring out, and the buzz of people continues, as their tasks have switched.

“Cooper,” Vander waves the man over once the scene has been cut. “This is our leading lady. She’ll be portraying Mary.” The man takes the hat off and shakes my hand lightly. “Cooper Howard. It’s a great privilege. My daughter adores your records.” His cheery smile and soft eyes struck me. His skin is smooth and warm to the touch. I had to kick myself just to speak. “Hello, Mr. Howard.” "Oh please, call me, Cooper."

And from then on, from that one moment, I was in trouble.

We would rehearse together, have our lunch together, and have dinner together when the day rolled around too late to go home. It became a natural routine. He made me feel special. By 4 weeks in I was in deep shit. I couldn't wait to see him. He started to invade my mind at all hours of the night. I started to question if he would like certain outfits as I put them on each day.

He told me about his life. He shared little details that seemed intimate. I sit in my makeup chair as he enters my trailer with a coffee. "Your ears must've been burning. I was just going to ask for one." I tease as I take the cup into my hands. He smiles that dumb smile, and I can feel myself sink into the chair. My makeup artist twists a tube of liner and groans upon seeing the state of said liner. "Ugh, I need to get another lip liner, don't move." I sit very still with wide eyes making her laugh. "I didn't mean it literally!" I smile as the door shuts. It doesn't take Cooper but a second to be standing over my chair, hands on my shoulders, exchanging glances in the mirror. It was now 9 weeks into filming, and I was fucked. I was completely infatuated with this man.

I feel the exposed skin on my shoulders burns as his fingertips brush over it. I feel my head lean into his touch ever so slightly. "You look beautiful." Why the fuck was he doing this to me? It's on purpose, it has to be. He certainly didn't act like this to any other female on set. Was it just a method to make sure we had that connection when we filmed?

Cooper's light squeeze on my shoulders brings me back. I smile at him in the mirror. He tilts his head, "You alright, darlin'?" I nod silently. Cooper leans down, his lips trailing up my ear as he whispers, “You nervous about the kiss?” I stare into his eyes, mine widening. “I thought we weren’t filming that scene until a few weeks.” His smirk only grows. I unknowingly provided my answer. I knew I was going to say it if he didn’t leave my trailer. I couldn't help myself. His fingers burned my skin. My lungs filled but wouldn't release. I was surely going to burst. "I-" "FOUND IT!" My makeup artist walks in victorious. "Cooper, they need you on set." I avert my eyes from him, trying to control my breathing. He nods and releases my shoulders before exiting. I felt my body exhale the large sigh I was holding in. I shake my head lightly trying to push my inner thoughts away.

~

The detective watches the passing car. He begins to trail the group on foot as they turn down a street. "Well, if it isn't my big tipper." He looks up to see Mary Jones, the singer from the club the men in question were just seen leaving. She makes her way across the street, meeting him under the lamplight. He was losing his chance, but he would get shot if he was promised she'd be the last thing his eyes set upon. "Just leaving, Mary?" He narrows his eyes at her. She knew something. She was the boss's favorite girl after all. The detective points down the road. "Those men, did they mention anything interesting?" She narrows her eyes, "Are you asking me to go against my boss? Where else would I sing?" Her sly smile cuts him deep. He wishes no harm to come to his beauty. He could let them get a head start. He lays his hand on her waist, pulling her in, their faces inches apart. "Now, you listen, doll. Those men, they could hurt you." Mary runs a gloved finger over his bottom lip. "And I can handle myself, sugar." She stares at his lips, her tongue darting to wet her own. “But if you’re so concerned, why don’t you walk me home? Make sure I get there safe and sound.” They move swiftly down the streets sharing cigarettes and longing gazes.

He leans on her door, drinking her in. “Don’t go to the club tomorrow.” He says in a whisper. She picked his chin up, “You understand I have to. But you can come visit and return this for me.” She leans up pressing her body against him, attaching their lips in harmony. His hands moved to grip her waist, pulling a small moan from her mouth.

“CUT!”

I blink quickly, suddenly becoming very aware of my closeness to Cooper. Hell, I just kissed the man. Well, Mary technically kissed the detective. I beg my bones to stay professional, but the heat growing in my core causes me to shutter.

"Beautiful! Just stunning. I could swear you LOVE this man! Singer my ass, you picked the wrong path Sweets." Mr. Vander cries as he takes off the headset. He spins me around dramatically. "My little songbird!"

"Whoa, now, bud. Don't go breaking her," Cooper's voice peels out in a firm tone. Mr. Vander sets me down, holding me at arm's length. "Now, this Friday we will be filming your solo. So, drink some tea or whatever the fuck you do." I laugh trying to sway back and forth to gather friction between my legs. I can feel his body heat next to me. He lays an arm on the small of my back, drawing circles. I jump lightly at his trailing fingers. I need to get away from him before my internal flames ignite this entire lot.

"Cooper, I need you to rehearse as much as you can. Love you, buddy, but you have two left feet and your chops are going to need some tuning. So, with that being said, please spend every waking moment together." Fucking great. Vander walks away but turns back quickly. "And Cooper, I want you both in the dance studio tomorrow morning. Jessica wants to rework the choreography."

I am so fucked. I can barely stand close to this man now without wanting to pounce on him. I take the larger shawl off my shoulders and toss it on the chair. I begin to walk away to my trailer, but Cooper catches my elbow. "Hey." I smile lightly, I take a second glance at his lips, missing the warmth. I register his lips moving, sound coming from his mouth, but I can't hear a word he says. I grab the collar of his shirt, bringing his lips down to meet mine in a rushed kiss.

The echo of my name and his fingers snap in front of my face. I shake my head, running away from the thoughts. "Yeah?" I stare anywhere but his eyes, I stare at his hair, his eyebrows, lips... fuck, I'm looking at his lips again. I turn away from him and make my way to the trailer door. "I'm sorry, Cooper. I am just so tired." I open the door, but his hand pushes it shut before I can escape. He leans down with furrowed brows. "You seem frazzled." He runs a single digit up my arm causing goosebumps to run along my skin. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold the shutter inside. I shake my head, "No, I just didn't sleep well, and today ran long. Just tired."

He hums softly. His finger traced the strap of my dress. “You look so beautiful.” I shutter at his touch, and he knows it.

He opens the trailer door for me, "Then you better get some rest. I'll have you worn out tomorrow." WHAT? He must be fucking with me.

I feel the smirk creep on my lips. Unable to hold it in, I allow myself to surrender just a little. I reach out, straightening his shirt collar, and adding a subtle tug. "I think you'll be surprised how tired I can make you." I watch as his eyes search mine. Seeming to dig into my soul. Finding me and my true desires. He leans down ever so slightly, like a magnet forcing us together. Inches between us, so so close, but I pat his chest with a smirk. I watch as Cooper opens his eyes with stardust lining his lashes. I whisper to him, "Goodnight, Cooper." And I close the trailer door. Just an inch before it shut, Cooper caught it with his hand.

He peals the door open, stepping inside, making me back away into the small counter. He stares into my soul, communicating silently. He dips down quickly capturing my lips. His hands guided me to the small couch. Clothes were torn, and only the essential items were removed for our intimate skin to brush against each other. Cooper rushed to tear my panties away, and I was right behind him, pulling his rock-solid cock from his pants.

He fucks my body deep into the couch, the repeated grinding against my clit causing sparks to ignite. I clasp at the wide planes of his back, my fingernails skidding down the fabric of his dress shirt, threatening to rip the material. "Cooper, fuck!" I moan out as I watch where our bodies meet. Cooper took my wrist, pinning my arms above my head, sinking into me deeper. He watches me with knitted brows, completely lost in the actions. He dives down to my neck, teeth grazing a spot on my neck that stimulates the blissful warmth.

It's rolling through me, I can feel the tightness building in my core, the cord tightening. I toss my head back, closing my eyes. He pushes deeper. The trailer gives a slight rock, as our moans fill the vicinity. If anyone was near there would be no hiding our actions.

"Oh my God, I'm coming." I pant, the coil popping and my release begins flowing. I arch up into his chest. Cooper pulls out, finishing on the crumpled costume. I breathe deeply for what feels like hours. I open my eyes to see Cooper smirking above me, soft kisses peppering my cheeks as his hands glide down my arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above my head. Unable to move I just stare at him as I catch my breath.

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, readjusting himself before sitting by my feet. A smirk builds its way to his mouth. He runs a thumb over my legs.

I stay silent. I feel like I should pinch myself. I could swear I was dreaming if it wasn't for his fingertips trailing up my leg.

Oh, fuck, this was a mistake. This is so wrong. Maybe this was just a moment of weakness. He has a wonderful family...

He calls my name softly, continuing his soft touches. "You're thinking too loud, darlin'." I sit up, jitters still running through my body. "How could I not? That was-" "Amazing." He leans in catching my lips again, softly this time around. He pulls away, just enough to whisper. "Let me walk you to your car." I nod wordlessly, quickly changing into my regular clothing. Just as we are about to walk out the door, I tug his arm. "Wait." I press my lips down on his, meeting perfectly.

He walks me to the car, only passing a few stragglers, but paid them no mind, his hand still glued to my waist. He opens the door to my car, allowing me to get seated. He leans down with a smile, "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, beautiful."

As I drive away down the road, my smile slowly fades. "Oh, my god." I just slept with someone's husband, and I loved it! I stare at myself in the rearview mirror. I let myself fall limply against the headrest. I curse his name lowly as I fall into the shame of the actions I am committing behind closed doors.

~

Her car door shuts, and I am left staring at her vehicle slowly disappearing. my eyes in a daze, cheeks perking the color of a rose. Hell, I'm acting like a damn teenager. She makes me feel things again. Certain feelings of the warmth a good woman like her can spread. I am fucked. She was so warm, so tight. She fit so perfectly around my cock. I wanted to go slow, I was trying to beg myself to pace myself, but she was too irresistible.

I chuckle, running a finger over my lips. I had kissed costars before. It was never a problem. It certainly never leads to scandalous acts, but when it comes to her it seems everything is out of the ordinary for me. I shake my head lightly as I am whisked to my car. Floating on the memory of her eyes, laugh, kissable plump lips, and skin that smelt of strawberry jam. It was those thoughts that got me home. It was those thoughts that invaded my mind as poured myself a drink upon entry. They were also the thoughts that broke the thread as I pumped my shaft in my hand, once again overcome with the need for her. Concealed in the master bathroom, in the shower, allowing myself to fantasize about another woman. "Fuck," Her name left my mouth in a breathless moan.

I looked into the mirror at the man before me. He was a shameful mess. The present visions of her supplying my imagination didn't trouble me. The constant pressing of my cock threatening to twitch at the sound of her voice on the radio didn't trouble me. What troubled me was the fact that I enjoyed every second of it. I yearned for the morning sun each night, the fact of knowing I would be able to see her the next day was enough to close my eyes each night. I would get to hold her, brush her hair behind her ears, and smell the sweetness of her skin. A shameful mess I was indeed. The want grew each hour I spent thinking of her.

~

The bright sun in the sky barely kissed the hills as I opened the door to the studio. I was more in my element. Acting was fun, but I had been missing the feeling of confidently knowing what to do. In here, I could sing and sway to my plans and no one would correct me. I stretch on the ground freely, humming as I do. The door opens and I look back, silently hoping Cooper walks through. But it's just, Louis.

"Well, you seem to be in a good mood this morning," Louis calls out from the door. I smile at him, continuing to stretch. "I just caught up on some much-needed rest." Yes... Rest...

Louis eyes me up and down, not convinced. "I'm not buying that shit. What happened? You look... different. Did you curl your hair for rehearsal?" I slap his hand away from my hair. "So what if I did? I have appearances to keep up."

Louis rolls his eyes, "Yeah fucking right." He lies down on the floor with me as I stretch. "Who was it?" I look at him in confusion, "What?" Louis cackles, "Who did you fuck? Come on I want details." "No one. My god, Louis. Make yourself useful and go put my bag up." Louis tosses the bag over his shoulder with a smirk. "I'm just saying, you've never been this perky in the morning unless you've been riding a dick all night." I cover my eyes in embarrassment. Several of the crew were on set now and heard what Louis blared out. "Shut the fuck up." I snide at him.

I look around in hopes that Cooper wasn't around to see or hear the exchange, but I am never so lucky. He stands at the back of the room, tying his shoes, a small smirk littering his lips. If he did hear, then he is acting like he didn't.

He waltzes over looking awkward. Fuck, I knew this was going to be weird. I narrow my eyes at him as he sways from one foot to the other. "You okay?" I ask with a small smile. He was finally on my rank. These were my stomping grounds and he was completely lost. A light confidence perks in my veins. "Not much of a dancer, or a singer for that matter." He watches as I spin, the black leotard hugging my body. I catch his eyes burning into my frame. "I'm sure you're better than you think." "Oh, I don't know. Never been good at dancing with pretty women."

Jessica stands in front of us and the few extras needed. "I want to run the solo with the choreography from the first take. I know we talked about it, and I know you said you weren't all for the sexy moves, but-"

"No, let's do it." I want to run it." I interrupt her quickly, her eyes lighting up. She claps her hands with a smile. "Everyone else, take your position. We're going to run it."

Jessica gives me the floor as she begins the music. I feel the chords flowing, the music taking over. I begin the rehearsed song and choreography. Swaying lightly to begin, but slowly making out into the crowd. I sing and turn around the tables, captivating the eyes of everyone in the room. One in particular looked as if he was fighting his own will to stay seated. I sing as I sit at the table he's at. His eyes dive into mine and suddenly it is just the two of us, and I am singing directly to him.

I rest my hand on his chest. I can feel the rapid thump of his heart. Cooper stands placing his hands on either side of my face as I sing. He allows his hand to feel down the side of my body. Memorizing the curves of my waist. I turn his head to look back into my eyes, finishing the melody. He brings my face in, passionately pressing his lips down onto mine. Applause erupts from the studio, but he doesn't pull away. Cooper grips my waist tightly, dragging me to the edge of the table, pushing his hardened cock into my thigh. I gasp feeling his length against my leg.

Unknowing to others, but I know. By the look on his face, he knows that I know. A smirk grew on his lips. “I’d say that scene will be perfect, darlin’.” Cooper pulls away from my body, the warmth disappearing. He sits in the seat watching my every move such as a predator stalking their prey.

[moon-witchs-world]

Dress - Harry J. Potter

I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

Harry J. Potter x Fem!reader

~1,1K words Summary: After defeating Lord Voldemort Harry Potter wants nothing more than to be happy. To have an easy, simple life. Be boring for a while. Things have changed. The golden trio becomes a loved-up duo and leaves Harry spending more time by himself than he likes. Things with Ginny Weasley just didn’t work out, both of them have changed and they have gone their separate ways. He spends more and more time with you, his best friend and decides to ask you to be his plus one at Ron and Hermione’s wedding. 

Author’s note: this is pure, sickly sweet fluff inspired by the TS song Dress. Hope you enjoy, please leave me a comment or reblog, it makes my day! 

~~**~~

It would make me so happy to go to R&H’s  wedding together. Will you go with me?,’ Harry had written to you a few weeks earlier. You had written your reply with shaking hands.  I would love to, Harry. 

And so there you were on a sunny Spring day wearing a flowy, fairytale like dress that complemented all your curves, waiting for Harry Potter. 

Ron and Hermione were getting married today and you were beyond excited. You loved weddings. Adored them. There was something so magical and promising about two people dressed up to the nines, in front of all their loved ones, making vows that would last a lifetime. It was even more special when the people getting married were two of your best friends. 

You met Harry, Ron and Hermione when you were just eleven on your first day at Hogwarts. Being muggle born you didn’t know anyone who went to Hogwarts and you were so anxious. The trio was kind to you and accepted you into their little friend group. After the Wizarding War you remained closest to Harry. Ron and Hermione had finally confessed their love to each other and were making up for lost time by never leaving each other’s company or their home for that matter. 

During those post-war years you and Harry grew closer than ever and spent a lot of time together. He was the best friend anyone could ask for, but lately your feelings for him changed. You had fallen for the Chosen one. The man with the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and the fierce green eyes. The kind wizard who was seemingly unaware of the magnetic power he had on you. 

And then he asked you to go to the wedding together. Maybe he meant it just as friends, but you felt hopeful. Maybe today you were finally going to be brave enough to confess your feelings. 

You arrived before Harry did and had some time to take in the beautiful scenery. The wedding would take place outside, in the idyllic backyard of Bill and Fleur’s Shell Cottage. There were wildflowers everywhere and champagne flutes floated through the air. You grabbed one and took a sip. Maybe a bit of liquid courage was exactly what you needed. 

A faint pop behind you startled you and when you turned around you felt a mixture of comfort and anxiety when you saw Harry Potter had appeared behind you. 

‘Forgive me for being late. You look absolutely gorgeous,’ he said after pressing a kiss on your cheek. You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing just a little. When you replied, he was still staring at you.

‘No problem, I only just arrived. You look very handsome as well, Harry,’ you answered. His dark green dress robes made his eyes pop even more and his hair wasn't as messy as usual. You liked his messy, raven coloured hair that never seemed to want to behave in a certain way and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his hair to mess it up a bit more. 

‘Please, everyone, take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin!’ Mrs. Weasley said rather agitated and you and Harry both went and took a seat at the front. 

The ceremony was intimate and beautiful. You were sure Ron had had a bit too much to drink before, he slurred his words a bit during his vows and his posture was a bit unsteady. Hermione looked radiant, even more beautiful than on a normal day. 

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you thought you felt Harry’s eyes wander to you at least a couple of times during the ceremony. You were very aware of your upper legs touching ever so slightly and when you wiped away a few happy tears, he squeezed your hand softly. 

When Ron and Hermione were officially husband and wife and the newlyweds were sharing a passionate kiss, everyone got up and cheered. 

‘Let’s celebrate!’ Ron yelled enthusiastically. The chairs were magicked away which made space for a dancefloor. Harry took your hands and the both of you started to dance. You let him lead you over the dancefloor, never breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds. After a while you two decided it was time to take a break and have a drink. Harry took two glasses of champagne from one of the floating trays and gave you one. You stood there in silence for a moment, looking at Ron and Hermione, locked into a tight embrace in the center of the dancefloor. 

‘You’re my best friend. I’m glad we’re here together,’ Harry suddenly said with a beaming smile. You had always been proud to call someone as kind and authentic as Harry Potter your best friend, but now the words hurt you. They felt empty. Not anything close to what you actually felt for him. 

‘I don’t want to be your best friend,’ you heard yourself say. His eyes widened in confusion and a few wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he frowned. 

‘Well, I mean, I like being your best friend. But I want to be more,’ you said so quietly it was no more than a whisper. Harry grabbed your hand and leaned in a bit. 

‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t ask you to come with me as a friend,’ he said with a slight flush on his cheeks. You looked at him in disbelief. Could it be? Could your feelings for Harry be mutual?

‘Is it weird to ask you to be my girlfriend at our best friends’ wedding?’ You giggled. 

‘I don’t know, maybe you should try it.’ 

Harry took a deep breath, straightened his back and took both your hands in his, in a way very similar to the way Ron and Hermione had stood before them not too long ago. 

‘My lovely best friend. Would you mind if I started to call you my girlfriend from now on?’ 

‘That would make me very happy,’ you answered. Harry looked relieved and then came a bit closer. His face was just inches away from you. 

‘I guess that since you’re my girlfriend now, I finally get to kiss you.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ you said with a smile on your face. He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Even though you had fantasized about this moment for so long, it was way better in reality. His lips were softer than you could have imagined and the touch of them woke a million butterflies that had been sleeping in your stomach.  

‘Okay, now let’s go and find a place where I can take off that dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I think I like what’s underneath it even more,’ he said with a mischievous smile. 

[coneyislandbabey]

so hot you're hurting my feelings. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: profanities, steamy scenes like. maybe 16+ but not actual smut

SYNOPSIS: your seemingly innocuous wardrobe choice makes Warren lose his mind. word count: 1,717

NOTES: written for this request. Sorry it’s been so long! Also, thank you guys for over 300 followers 🫶

You knew what you were doing. 

You had to, Warren thought, as you walked into the room wearing that. You walked into the green room shortly before the show wearing a matching set: a blue suede vest with daisies lining the front, and the tiniest pair of matching shorts, white boots the exact shade of the daisies hugging your legs and coming to a stop shortly before your knees. Christ, there wasn’t even a button on those shorts, just a thin brown cord lacing up the front. You certainly hadn’t been wearing that at soundcheck, he would have fucking noticed. 

You slung the strap of your bass around your torso, the pearly white body of the instrument perfectly matching your getup, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you chatted idly with Daisy on the other side of the room. Warren crossed his arms over his chest, trying to pry his eyes from the way your outfit perfectly hugged each one of your curves, to no avail. He knew someone was bound to catch onto his staring if he didn’t get himself under control, but he couldn’t help himself. All he could think about was his fingers tugging at the laces on your shorts, roughly undoing the neat little bow, pulling them loose– 

He shook his head, trying to physically rid himself of the thoughts. The two of you had been messing around on the down low for quite a while, miraculously having been able to keep it from the prying eyes of your bandmates the whole time. You weren’t dating– not that Warren was opposed to the idea, but neither of you seemed to be in a rush to complicate things, even if it was for the better. You both felt like you had all the time in the world. Plus, the thrill of sneaking around definitely made the sex better. And yet, Warren was about three seconds away from tossing caution to the wind and tackling you to the floor right then and there, in front of everybody. 

As if you could read his mind, could feel how worked up he was getting without even touching you, you turned to look at him from across the room, eyes dragging up and down his body before tossing a lazy wink his way and turning back to your conversation with Daisy. Fuck, you were going to be the death of him. He felt a little dizzy, his vision tunneling until all he could focus on was you. 

He was pulled out of his trance by the sudden flurry of movement around the room: it was time to go on stage. No fucking way was he going to have to sit there and play a whole show with you standing in front of his drumkit the whole time looking like the hottest woman who has ever lived. There was a solid chance, he thought, that he would drop dead on stage. Or stop playing in the middle of a song to start making out with you in front of thousands of people. On some deeper level, he was aware of just how ridiculous it was that he couldn’t get a grip, but was it really his fault that you drove him so crazy? All rational thoughts flew right out the window every time he saw you. 

It was a good thing that he had all the songs down to muscle memory, because despite his best efforts, he was distracted throughout the entire show. Truthfully, he was always distracted during shows. His eyes inevitably always found you playing your bass just a few feet in front of him, getting lost in the hypnotizing way you and your instrument became one as you played. Even if you two weren’t a thing, he was sure his eyes would still be drawn to you– you gave Daisy and Billy a run for their money when it came to the spotlight, that’s how magnetic your stage presence was. Every little facet of your magnetic presence was dialed up to a hundred for Warren, sitting through the entire setlist and the encore almost unbearable. 

Excruciating eons passed before the show ended, but finally the encore was finished, the whole band standing in a line at the front of the stage to bow and say goodbye to the audience. You were on the other side of the line up, and it took everything in Warren’s power to look forward at the audience, to smile at them and wave goodbye and keep up his usual onstage energy, feigning his usual nonchalance as he walked off stage with everybody else. 

But as soon as he was out of sight of the audience, his eyes sought you in the dim chaos backstage. He couldn’t think about anything besides you in his arms, you looking at him, you in his bed. After a few seconds of frantic searching, he found you alone in a secluded corner, tucking your bass away in its case. He beelined for you, warm hands on your waist as soon as you were in reach, not caring about who could possibly see. You turned in surprise at the physical contact, questioning look receding when you saw it was Warren. Any words you could have said died in your throat when you clocked his dark eyes, pupils blown wide and hungry. 

“Warren,” you greeted, voice pitched low and a little breathy after the exertion of the show, and fuck, god, you had to know what you were doing to him. 

“I need you,” he said, bringing his mouth close to your ear, the hunger you saw in his eyes a barely-constrained need straining in his voice. “Right fucking now.” 

A shiver ran through you at the tone of his voice paired with his intense gaze, pinning you right where you stood. You had half a mind to look around to see if anybody was around to witness the interaction, but you only entertained the thought briefly. You gave the barest nod of your head, and that was all Warren needed to grab your wrist and pull you along behind him. Warren walked on, peering into various doorways until he found an empty room to pull you inside of. It was a storage closet of some sort, filled with cardboard boxes and extra guitar amps and other detritus, a single dusty light bulb swinging overhead. Warren tugged you inside, the force of it causing you to stumble a bit, closing and locking the door behind you. 

In a fraction of a second he was on you, wide, calloused hands warm on the exposed skin of your stomach, mouth sucking a hickey into the supple skin where your jaw meets your neck. You let out a gasp at the sensation, hands immediately going to tangle in his hair. 

“Warren,” you managed, letting out a breathy chuckle. “What has gotten into you tonight?” 

“You’re fucking driving me crazy in this little outfit,” he murmured against your skin. His hands slid against your skin, dipping below the waistband of your shorts for emphasis. 

“Funny,” you hummed, fingers skating lightly down the back of his neck causing him to shiver. “That’s exactly why I bought it.” 

“You’re evil,” Warren laughed, though the sound was almost pained. He swallowed up whatever reply you had, grabbing your chin and angling your face to his, dragging you into a kiss. You fisted one hand into the material of the back of his vest, your other palm flat against the bare, sweaty skin of his chest. Warren kissed like a starving man, like he would have died if he’d gone one more second without his lips on yours. 

Warren broke away only when in desperate need of air, resting his forehead against yours and panting as he turned his attention to the laced up front of your shorts. His fingers fumbled with the bow, pulling at the ends until it came loose, working his deft digits into each section of the criss-crossed cord, pulling it loose. 

“Are we seriously doing this here?” you asked, watching his enthusiasm with your brows raised in amusement. “Not that I’m complaining, loverboy, but you’re like a man possessed.” 

“When I said I needed you right fucking now, I meant it,” Warren said, tugging at your shorts. You knew just how serious he was by his total lack of pet names for you; usually he couldn’t get a sentence out without using one when talking to you. You took a step back, half sitting on a large amp behind you to make it easier for him to pull your shorts down your legs. 

Warren reattached his lips to your neck, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear, skimming across the skin of your hips and the lowest bit of your stomach. The need was still there, but he had slowed down ever so slightly, needing to enjoy you, to savor you. 

“Warren, please,” you rasped out, growing impatient. “Get to it, please.” He snickered, and you could feel him smirking against your skin. Just as he moved to pull your underwear down your legs, the closet door knob rattled violently. 

“Why the fuck is this locked?” A muffled voice yelled, pissed off, on the other side of the door. A second later, you could hear heavy footsteps heading back down the hall. Your head whipped back to Warren, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the wide-eyed, kid-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression adorning his face. 

“Aw, baby,” you said, rubbing your thumb against the skin of his cheek. “Universe is not on your side tonight.” 

He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. You laughed, patting the side of his head as you reached down with one hand to pull your shorts back up. Once they were around your hips, Warren helped to tighten the laces once again, tying the cord in a neat bow. 

“Okay, new plan, mama,” he started, once you were fully dressed once again. “We sneak out of this fucking place and get back to the hotel in record fucking time.” 

“Sounds good,” you grinned, this time being the one to grab him by the wrist and head toward the door.  “Great, ‘cause I fuckin’ love this outfit on you, but I need it off.”

tag list: @xleiaorgana @neptunes-curse

[imperiuswrecked]

So I was browsing through some of your old posts and one of them mentioned that Namor was r*ped? When did that happen? Would you ever consider writing something that deals with the fallout of that? Hope you're doing well btw

Thank you, I am doing fine, and I hope you are too! CW for Heavy/Dark Themes, Rape, Sexual Assault.

(During the 90s Reed Richards was written out of Fantastic Four comics, and presumed dead by literally everyone in the comic world except for Susan who believed he was still alive. In real world time Reed was gone for years, and this was really unheard of for one of Marvel's important characters because the Fantastic Four were Marvel's big team. So it really looked like Reed wasn't going to come back. I say this to let you know why Reed wasn't around in these comics, and to mention that Susan never cheated on Reed.)

So I was browsing through some of your old posts and one of them mentioned that Namor was r*ped? When did that happen?

Yes, Namor was canonically raped in Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50; Empress Llyra (the shapeshifting half Human/Lemurian woman who poisoned Namora, killed Lady Dorma, and helped Tiger Shark kill Namor's father, and tried killing Namor) shapeshifted into Susan (The Invisible Woman) and raped Namor. The next day Namor finds out that Susan never slept with him and that it was Llyra, he snaps and tries to kill her but is stopped by Susan, and the text is very explicit in saying "There's a word for what she did to me, Susan. Had it been committed against you, would you not feel justified?", and this was confirmed by the writer Glenn Herdling in an interview by Twomorrows Back Issue #91.

Back Issue #91: Namor #50 (May 1994) deals with a touchy subject, as Herdling points out. "My friend Chris Cooper, a former Marvel editor and author of Songs of the Metamythos, recently reminded me that Namor was raped in an issue I wrote. In her attempt to spawn an heir to the throne of Atlantis, Namor's nemesis Llyra seduced him by disguising herself as Sue Richards. Chris asked me if I regretted writing that scene. I told him that I thought it was a powerful story, and if I had to tell it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. People don't think a strong, virile hero like Namor - who represents the essence of masculinity - could ever be a victim of rape. Namor is a attractive, stalwart individual with a magnetic personality who has always been portrayed as having an insatiable appetite for the fairer sex. When a female adversary takes sexual advantage of such a man, a common reaction is, 'So what?' Sue Richards illustrates this double standard when she demands to know why Namor was in a homicidal rage. Namor retorts, 'If the act had been committed upon you, Susan Richards, it would be called something else.' At the time if I had proposed such a story and the victim had been female, it would have never seen the light of day."

Would you ever consider writing something that deals with the fallout of that?

I have written many scenes that deal with the fallout of Llyra's actions towards Namor, and a have planned a big portion of my fic, Sub-Mariner: Ascension around the 90s and all that happens. Is any of it published on my Ao3 yet? No, but it will be sometime in the future.

Unfortunately I don't have a set date for when I update fics, it depends on my schedule, and my ability/energy to write. I've been struggling a lot with writing lately so I am working on trying to finish my other works before devoting myself back to my Sub-Mariner: Ascension fic as that's really my long time pet project, it's a fic that is more of a novel, or several novels, that chronical Namor's life through the comics but with a more in depth look at his adventures and his character, it's darker at some points than the comics ever go, and deal with a lot of heavy subjects like the above mentioned incident, as well as Namor's time growing up, his time in the war, with each team he's been on, and each loss he's endured. It's supposed to flesh out and connect a lot of threads that the comics never pick up on while including new original elements. I did commission a fanart of for this too, and I hope over time to commission more arts for this story, as well as finish writing it.

I have toyed with several ideas of a stand alone fics that covers what happened to Namor, this time and other instances*, but I was never sure if anyone would be interested in dark fics that has heavy angst/whump as well as dealing with this topic for Namor.

*This also isn't the first time Namor was raped, or sexually assaulted, however it's always played off, never spoken of again, or turned into "well he wanted it".

The first time a shapeshifter seduced and tricked Namor into sexual relations was in The Defenders (1972) #93; The dead Lady Dorma seemingly comes back to life and places a spell/mind control on Namor to do her bidding and attack the surface world. The Defenders figure out something is wrong with Namor and "Dorma" reveals herself as Nebulon, The Celestial Man. He was recurring enemy of The Defenders, and when Namor finds out that "Lady Dorma" was Nebulon he fights him and says, "You have violated my very consciousness, Nebulon -- defiled the memory of the fairest creature I have ever known! You have used me scum -- and The Sub-Mariner is not lightly used!" -- "When I think that I... held you in my arms -- let my lips brush yours... I am sickened."

(So while Herdling thinks he's written this happening to Namor for the first time, it's not, however Herdling does point out in no uncertain terms what it is. Which is a far better writing than what Johnny Storm (The Human Torch) got stuck with. It's actually so interesting that both Namor & Johnny got a story arc about a green skinned shape-shifter Llyra & Lyja who takes on the shape of other women to trick the men into sleeping with or marrying them only for the truth to come out. In fact Namor in these issues even thinks it's Lyja who raped him before figuring out it's Llyra.

While Namor got to say what happened to him was rape, Johnny doesn't. Johnny gets made fun of for Lyja. More about this subject in this post by @/ Traincat) )

Marvel Comics Presents (1988) #58 - Just an issue ago Namor was thinking suicidal thoughts over losing his wife, Marrina, and gets roped into helping some humans. Sandra touches and kisses Namor thinking that him being annoyed by her is just a front for unresolved sexual tension between them, but Namor rebuffs her and tells her that his affections are not so easily won. Later a mysterious old man tells Namor he needs to relax and to appreciate the pleasures life offers him.

Basically the comic dismisses Namor being uncomfortable with a strange woman who came onto him, and tells him he needs to enjoy himself. Nothing romantic happens between Namor & Sandra in later comics.

Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) Annual 3 - Namor is visiting a friend in Tokyo, and the friend's (wife? girlfriend? text just says woman) woman comes to Namor in the middle of the night seeking to sleep with him. He tells her this is improper, and she leaves, she returns more dressed, and seduces Namor again, against his protests, touching, kissing him, before a panel shows Namor giving in. It's later revealed the woman is a cyborg assassin.

The framing of this pretty much shows how uncomfortable Namor is with the whole situation.

Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #36 - The Neried seek to seduce Namor by shifting their forms to look like Lady Dorma & Marrina, his dead wives, but he rejects him, and just like in The Defenders, he is enraged someone would take on the forms of women he loved so deeply and dearly.

The Invaders (1975) Annual 1 - The Shark, knocks Namor out, ties him up, changes his clothing to steal his speedos. While it's played for comedic effect, this isn't the first or last time a villain has tied Namor up, but I make special mention of this because of the fact that at one point while unconscious Namor was stripped naked against his will.

Villains often admire Namor's body, and remark on it. Honestly the amount of times Namor's been tied up, abused, experimented on, etc. happens so many times that it'd need it's own post.

One more I'd like to mention because of the implications is Dark X-Men: The Beginning #1 - Norman wants Namor on his side, and has a talk with Namor while he's in the shower (full comic) and while Namor definitely has the strength to defend himself, this is more of a psychological play by Norman, talking to a person while they are naked is a very vulnerable moment, the hand touch, etc. Norman knows he can't control Namor through brute strength so he positions himself in a way that gives him power over Namor while also offering Namor things he wants, a mention of how he can give Namor a place to belong, with Emma, a home on his team.

As many Namor fans know, Namor does not like to be touched without consent, even if its a tap on the shoulder, and while the comics have often implied it's because Namor is royal, he's arrogant, he doesn't want peasant hands to touch him, etc. honestly I personally just headcanon that after years of people touching him when he doesn't want to be touched he's just put up a wall of arrogance to defend himself from further molestation. It wouldn't be too far fetched to think so because even as a kid he was (physically & verbally abused) by his grandfather (Namor: The First Mutant (2010) #4), beat up by other Atlantean kids, etc. so why would he want people he doesn't trust touching him. He's unclothed a lot, and people think that means it's ok to touch when it's not. Even when it's just a person he knows, he doesn't like it.

Defenders (2001) #7

I know this is a long reply, but it's just a subject that I don't think gets discussed enough tbh. Also to make one final point is bringing this back to what Herdling said in his interview: When a female adversary takes sexual advantage of such a man, a common reaction is, 'So what?'

While I'm not a fan of Herdling's writing, his run on Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) had so many issues with plot, etc. I do think he makes an interesting point in this interview (that took place in 2016? I think) about the double standard male characters face when it comes to Rape, Sexual Assault, and on another note Domestic Abuse, or any time of crime that we typically associate with men doing to women, how there's a general lack of care. It's turned into a joke when a woman abuses a man, or how the man is treated as something less if he doesn't perform masculinity to societies standards. Namor + Masculinity is a topic that could be discussed further, because he is one of the characters that many people think has toxic masculinity but they just haven't read his comics. While Namor definitely has some bad qualities, he's also very confident in himself and his masculinity, so by Herdling not shying away from the subject that "yes, Namor was raped, no I don't regret writing it", it's so interesting. A lot of creators often just shy away from confirming anything or try to defend their choice to have a male character raped/sexually assaulted, or excuse it, or ignore it, or make fun of it, or blame the male character. ESPICALLY when a character is, like Namor, a lover, a flirt, probably promiscuous, they are blamed for what women do to them. One example that drives me so insane is Gambit. I'll put the rest under a cut since it's more graphic than what I've shared so far, and further down I analyze Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50 in more depth.

I think the only male character who's depiction of rape (twice) is actually done differently and not brushed off or treated as a joke is Captain Britain. (Of course there's probably other stories out there with other characters but I'm just going off what I know in the big 2, Marvel & DC comics). You can read this post that goes more into Brian's experiences by @/ Thisiswhatwereupagainst.

CW for Heavy/Dark Themes, Rape, Sexual Assault, Incestuous implications.

If you haven't read X-Men (1991) #171-173, then I'd warn you about how bad the writing is; a student, Foxx, propositions Gambit, comes onto him while he's in the shower, he rejects her. He's blamed for taking advantage of a student (why do characters think the worst of Remy, he's not a bad guy!), then he finds out Foxx is actually Mystique who claims to want to sleep with Remy for the sake of her daughter. He rejects her again, but doesn't tell anyone about it, and when it gets out that it's Mystique then Rogue is mad at Remy for keeping it a secret. The sexual assault isn't ever brought up again and is ignored, but again it was framed as "Remy is a sexual dude, he would be ok with it, besides who cares?" Just because a character is promiscuous doesn't mean they want/deserve something like this to happen to them.

Both Namor and Remy are seen as charming, they get the girls, "so what if they are subject to unwanted attention? They should enjoy it..."

It doesn't help that both Remy & Namor have had moments of queer writing, with Remy & Namor nearly being made Bisexual/Gay, (Namor's was in an AU) but they were barred from being canon lgbtq characters in Marvel by the bosses, even though there are times throughout their 616 comics where you can interpret them as not just cis straight men.

--- At the time if I had proposed such a story and the victim had been female, it would have never seen the light of day."

Nightwing (1996) #93 - Nightwing is raped while in an emotionally compromised state, but if he had been a woman would that issue have seen the light of day?

Wonder Woman (1987) #214 - The Flash (Wally West) is beaten and sexually assaulted by Cheetah.

He's a married man, but Cheetah calls him lover as she beats him, and is about to rape him before she's stopped. If it was reversed would this have been allowed to see the light of day?

Flash brushes off this experience.

I'm not saying that women in comics haven't been raped or assaulted but I'm just pointing to a few examples of how differently male vs female characters are treated, "because it's not acceptable for it to have happened to a woman but it's ok for a man" Herdling basically says.

A more in depth look at Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #48-49.

First off the cover is just Bad. Like really bad, like "What on earth possessed you to make THAT cover?!" The theme of one man with a haram of sexy ladies isn't unheard of, that's not why it's bad though I do side eye it anyways, but the reason it's bad is because of who the women are.

Andromeda - Namor's friend, a proud a fierce Atlantean warrior, the daughter of Attuma, who has Namor's trust and confidence. Namor appointed her as Peacelord, she's basically become the captain of Namor's guard. While Andromeda has/had a crush Namor, nothing ever came of it and Namor never viewed her in a romantic light, only as a friend.

Marrina - Namor's second wife, they were happily married for a short time before Marrina turned into a sea monster, she breifely turns back into herself only to beg Namor to promise to end her life so that she no longer harms anyone else, and Namor honors her wish after she turns back into a sea monster, killing her with a magic sword. It makes sense for her to be on the cover.

Princess Fen - Namor's mother. Yes. His mother. Do I need to say more? Like why the fuck would you put Namor's MOM in a sexy lady Haram group shot with a title card that reads "Haunted by memories of lost love!" we know the writer intended romantic love, not platonic or familial love. Namor & his mom have never had an incestuous relationship ever.

Lady Dorma - Namor's first wife, who was murdered by Empress Llyra. He loved her very much. (I know people will always point out that Dorma was Namor's "cousin" but honestly the comics never state they are blood/close cousins, only a loose term of "cousins", Dorma was a Lady of the Altantean Court, a noble family.) They grew up as friends in court, and she was one of the only people who treated Namor kindly, and he doesn't even realize his true feelings for her until they are both adults. It makes sense for her to be on the cover.

Namorita - Namor's younger cousin. While I know there's people who will point out that Nita had a crush on Namor when she first knew who he was, I will also point out that Nita was like 16 years old, a stupid horny teenager who was raised alone (and probably abused) in the court of Empress Llyra after Llyra poisoned her mother, and Namor was the first person to defend her when she needed it, AND I will also point out her "crush" lasted barely a comic before she found a cute human sailor boy her age to crush on instead. Namor's only ever treated her like a little sister and again not in an incestuous manner. So again, why do we have her in a sexual position here?

Susan Richards - a married woman who long ago told Namor she doesn't love him several times, the Namor/Sue ship was dead in the water, and Namor had moved on from his infatuation, and was married twice. He never had his feelings reciprocated. I understand why she's on the cover but I just don't like it. lol.

The comic promises to dive into Namor's lost romances of the past, but out of all the women featured here the only 2 who loved Namor & he returned their love were Marrina & Dorma. For Andromeda it was a one sided crush on her end, and for Susan it was a unhealthy obsessive infatuation on Namor's end. It really feels like they just wanted to have sexy ladies on the cover and that's why its framed this way. Furthermore Namor is chained to the bed, while his arm is around Lady Dorma, he is staring blankly past everyone.

Namor is haunted by nightmares of losing his mother, of the Witch-Queen Artys-Gran, and of his dead wives.

He awakens and learns he's in a decompression chamber to stablize him. Susan and Namor talk about their lost spouses, and rekindle their friendship. However nothing romantic has happened between them. Later in the comic Namor is in bed, reading a book, at Oracle Inc. the company that he owns and runs, he has personal rooms, and a private pool, because he was living there most of the time, when a mysterious shrouded female figure enters in a short robe.

The comic ends in a cliff hanger, and the next comic it's revealed that it was Susan (Storm) Richards. Or is it?

The cover shows Namor kissing Susan while Johnny, Ben, and Lyja look on in shock and horror. The tagline on the inner splash page reads "Someone's been sleeping in my bed".

Namor and Susan get dressed for the day while discussing what happened last night. Namor feels uneasy but doesn't know why.

Namor goes off to his company for a meeting before going to Hydrobase to speak with Andromeda, and the off to see Nita who gives him some advice about dating, a tux, and flowers. Namor's happy but nervous, however when he gets to Fantastic Four and gives the flowers to Susan, Susan is confused and angrily snaps at Namor for touching her.

Ben punches Namor, everyone thinks Namor is trying to make a sleazy move on Susan for some reason, and while Namor's trying to explain and say it's between him and Susan, still believing that she was with him last night, all four of them battle, in the end Lyja shapeshifts into a monster to join the fight, and Namor seeing her change her form realizes that it wasn't Susan who slept with him last night. Mistakenly he believes that Lyja was the woman who came to him last night and attacks her. However he realizes it's not her, but that it was another shapeshifter. He leaves the Fantastic Four, and they follow.

Phoebe Marrs, an employee who took over running Oracle, and a recurring character from the series (earlier on in the series it was implied that her son's father was her twin brother Desmond, and Desmond died by suicide, however she's been seeing his "ghost") Namor figures out that the "ghost" is real, and it was a shapeshifter, his theory is right and it's revealed that Llyra has been around for ages posing as both Desmond and Phoebe on occasion. Also Llyra (as Phoebe) slept with both Jim Hammond (earlier in the series Jim thought he was sleeping with Phoebe who came onto him, so he was shocked to learn that it was Llyra, so she had raped him as she had Namor), and Leon McKenzie (*sigh* a secret son of Leonard McKenzie/his second wife, who then had a son named Leon, who would be Namor's nephew and works at Oracle, no one cares or remembers him).

At this reveal and the realization that he slept with his most hated enemy, again the woman who has poisoned his cousin Namora, who killed Lady Dorma, and helped kill his father, a woman he despises. A woman who since day 1 has wanted Namor romantically even though he never wanted her in that way. A woman Namor has vowed to kill in revenge for Dorma's death. Llyra raped him because he would have never slept with her if he knew. He snapped, and tries to kill her, and demands to know "why?", and Llyra spits on him as an answer. Namor tries to kill her, but is stopped by Susan. His hurt, his pain, his abuse, his rape is met with a "so what?" "no matter what she did to you, you can't kill her". Namor can't kill his rapist because Susan says he can't. Llyra then says he can't because she is pregnant with his child (She's not, it's Leon's child) and Namor is shocked, he lets her go, calls her a sick woman, Namor chooses not to press charges against Llyra and let's her go.

Then Namor loses it, like he starts laughing manically, and it makes the Fantastic Four uncomfortable so they just leave. Namor doesn't tell the rest of the Fantastic Four that he is sterile (this has since been retconned), and he can't have children, so he doesn't believe Llyra is pregnant with his child.

Later Susan shows up to check up on Namor, and he tells her he wanted to be alone with his shame, and they discuss how they could never be.

Then for some stupid reason Herdling has Susan and Namor kiss. It makes no sense, but Herdling liked the idea of Namor/Sue, but though the writer wanted, he knew he couldn't go further than a kiss. (Back Issue interview) I suppose people could look at it as a "a comfort/pity kiss" but honestly I hate the Namor/Sue ship too much to see it as anything but a writer's ship preference. People point to it to say Susan cheated on Reed by kissing Namor (this is the ONE time this happens) but at this point in the comics Reed is "dead". I hate when people try to say Susan is a cheating slut so it feels so disingenuous to say this was a kiss made of love or lust or whatever, instead of acknowledging that the writer really wanted to get a Namor/Sue kiss in.

Personally I think the issue of what happened to Namor is very overlooked by fans and creators, that Namor is a victim of rape, and how although it is acknowledged in it's moment, people still don't give it the gravitas it deserved, especially for a character like Namor. True this comic didn't brush off or ignore what Llyra did to Namor, but by the end of it, the Namor/Sue kiss, it really does feel like "ok, Namor is a little sad but he's ok once Susan REALLY gave him a kiss" so it does feel like the writer brushed off the effects of his abuse.

What's more, why? why would Namor ever feel comfortable kissing Susan when her likeness was used to hurt him? Why would be ok with any physical touch or sex or kissing when just a day before he was raped? Again, comics do not handle the fall out of rape well at all.

Now with Aaron writing Namor, and underwater politics, and a war for the Atlantean throne, I suppose we'll see if Llyra will ever return to make a play for the throne that she wants so badly, but I won't be surprised if Aaron doesn't ever use Llyra, because then he'd have to actually write about Namor confronting his rapist after Namor left Llyra to die in Fantastic Four Unlimited (1993) #11 (she survived somehow of course, but she hasn't interacted with Namor since.)

Anyways like Namor's canon PTSD, we won't get much depth into heavy subject matter and deeper characterization unless a good writer really wants to write it. And that's the full story of Namor's rape in Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50.

[kgetb]

I take this magnetic force of a man to be myyyyyy lover !!! (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠) ||>> Lorenzo Berkshire

song to listen to:

Lover ( Taylor Swift)

summary:

just a drabble which is kind of based on something that happened to me and my best friend (..crush)

established relationship, VERY short, tooth rotting like fluff, princess treatment, ugh literally just pure fluff.

lover masterlist !♡

⤷ : : YANNA'S MAP .. : :

A continuous rhythmic humming sound passed through Y/n's mouth as she pushed down the streets of Diagon Alley while also carrying all of her Luggage up again for another return to her second home, Hogwarts.

“Y/n !!” Enzo's face lightened with a smile creeping up his face, as he immediately recognized his girlfriend in a crowd of People, he moved through the Crowd, muttering excuse me's as he rushed towards his girlfriend with a huge grin settled on his face.

Y/n immediately recognized who's voice that was from slightly afar, and turned her head with the same grin plastered on her face admiring Enzo make his way towards her with excitement written on his face

She placed down her luggages, rubbing her hands as she watched as to how excited Enzo was to see her, after like maybe a few weeks of not seeing each other.

As Enzo finally made it to his girlfriend—Y/n, he immediately wrapped one of his arms around her, into an embrace, which lasted for a few seconds 'till they both pulled away with the same lovesick expression plastered on their faces.

“I gotcha this,” He murmured, and stretched his other hand out towards Y/n, which held a bouquet with two red roses in it, “I couldn't get a bigger one, sorry luv they didn't have any!” He complained rubbing the back of his neck, as he watched her carefully take the bouquet from his hand

“thank you Enz, and it's alright.” She felt her cheeks warm up even more as she continued to stare at the Bouquet of Roses Enzo got for her her, just because he can.

The girl nuzzled her nose in the fresh roses, sighing happily to herself, whilst her other hand slid through the pocket of her coat, reaching for something.

Enzo raised his eyebrow curiously as to what was kept delicately in Y/n's left hand, she grinned proudly at him, “I crocheted us matching keychains last night,” She held the small black crocheted kitty with her fingers and a slight firm grip,

She watched the boy's expression go from being lovesick, and into awe as he took the kitty keychain from Y/n's hand. “I figured you'd like the black one more,” She shrugged her shoulders lightly, and watched as to how Enzo immediately clipped it onto the zipper on one of his luggages

“I love it, Y/n. Gosh, you're absolutely so talented. i'm soso lucky to have 'ya.” Enzo beamed, as soon as he finished admiring the handmade keychain. He immediately peppered Y/n with kisses, earning a few giggles from the girl.

“Enzo, it's nothing, really.” She moved her hand up to ruffle his fluffy hair, messing it up, causing her boyfriend to groan sarcastically

“Y/n... have I ever told you I love you?” He mumbled, and snaked a hand slyly to her waist pulling her closer with small laughs causing the lass to roll her eyes playfully, towards Enzo's words, and actions

“Every time, Enzo.” She joked, and leaned in to place a small kiss on Enzo's lips before hovering her hand over to where his hand which was on her waist. “Ah, we gotta go. we might miss the train!” She boasted, and moved Enzo's arm off of her, causing him to whine.

She rolled her eyes, and shook her head at Enzo's clinginess, and was about to pick up her luggages yet Enzo already swiftly picked them up with one arm cockily raising his eyebrows at Y/n as he did so.

“Can't have the missus stressin” He shrugged his shoulders, “Missus??” Y/n teased, and linked their arms together as they begun walking

“yes, missus.” Enzo nodded, turning his head to glance at Y/n's arm linking with his proudly.

The couple pushed through Diagon Alley together, and off to start another year at Hogwarts together. as they did ever since they were still in their first years, up now to their sixth year.

mentions: @helendeath

[cinnamonic-thoughts]

@ crane wives and marauders fans:

The parallel between Tongues and Teeth

and Never Love An Anchor

feels so significant when applied to the Black brothers' situation. Both Sirius and Regulus came out of their ancestral home with the feeling that everything they touched would rot just because of the exposure to their darkness, approaching relationships the same way. That's the same mindset that the singers of both Tongues And Teeth and Never Love An Anchor possess.

The singer of Tongues And Teeth goes into detail about what they think will happen with their potential lover with them from the start, warning them of the danger of just Existing near them. The song is from the present tense of the situation, as they're in the middle of making the decision to give in to indulgence. They jump into things, impulsively and headfirst. They can't hold back, even though they know the consequences. If it's okay with their new lover, it's okay with them.

Meanwhile, in Never Love An Anchor, the singer talks about the situation from far in the future, if they had instead decided to stay away. If the singer had never given in to the temptation, and had let their "rotting" mindset keep them on that track. It talks about the grief you feel over the knowledge that loving you only brings awful things, and that staying away is the kindest thing to do even though it hurts so much. The situation is long over, and the singer is left wondering if they're hated, or even remembered.

Tongues and Teeth is written about the same kind of experience that Sirius has in every goddamn Wolfstar fic, and there are so many unrequited and avoiding love Regulus Black fics that Never Love An Anchor feels like an obvious fit, especially with Jegulus. Tongues and Teeth represents Sirius in that he lives his Life like this song. He can't hold back how much he wants and feels, so he talks back to his parents, gets sorted into the house his parents absolutely Hated, he constantly verbalizes his hatred for his family and all of the darkness they represent, I could go on and on. At the same time, he feels that he is stained by that same darkness and that he can't ever escape its presence in the lives of those he loves. He just doesn't want to have to hold everything back, so, just like the song, "if you're fine with that, can be mine like that," he'd want to have it like That. Him and Remus are so often characterized in fanon as being so magnetic to each other, causing them to clash just as often as they come together. They think they'll ruin each other because of the darkness they possess, but Sirius especially tends to put Remus on a pedestal of goodness, like the singer does to their potential lover.

Regulus Black's name is somewhat synonymous with tragedy in fanon. Whether it's the "no beta we die like regulus black in the cave" tags for shock value, the black brothers angst in everything from major fics to tiny headcanons, or the unrequited love for either James or Barty that permeates most Regulus Black media, he's a character that doesn't ever really get a break. Never Love An Anchor and the grief it represents feels relevant to him when the subject is Sirius or James, but I'll stick to James (keeping it romantic with the Wolfstar/Tongues and Teeth comparison). I'm a Choices coward (couldn't make myself finish it, I got too sad), but the "person on the dark side can't leave it but can't stop loving someone they have to protect from it" trope is still pretty common amongst Jegulus fics. Whether or not the love is requited, it doesn't change the mentality that Regulus always uses to approach it. "I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel." His darkness is the reason he never lets himself get close. In the cases where he does get close, he cuts it off to avoid inevitably hurting the one he loves, the epitome of Light and happiness that he thinks he doesn't deserve, James Potter. Honestly, thinking about the two of them while listening to the last bit in the lyrics (scroll back up to read) is a painful experience but it just fits so well.

I think both songs apply to their respective Black brothers very well individually, but it's also such a good comparison to see how their upbringing affected them. Sirius was always the impulsive, headstrong one so Regulus wouldn't have to be, and this is a direct result. They have the same beliefs about themselves but it manifests so differently because of how their environment shaped them.

I've been having brainrot about these two songs and how they relate to the Black Brothers for over a month at this point, so I hope somebody else appreciates how much I've thought about this thank you <333

[midnightsslut]

the whole cardigan/Peter parallels are messing my head can u explain

okay so peter is actually one of my favorite songs on the album for this reason! I think it has parallels to a lot of other songs, not just cardigan. the first thing to get out of the way is the cardigan lyric about peter and wendy: ‘tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy.’ now, that line doesn’t make a ton of sense because peter losing wendy is the ending of peter pan (idk I’ve never seen it and never thought I’d spend this long thinking about them), but I think what she’s saying is that he tried to change the ending of *their* story to peter losing wendy. peter loses her because she outgrows him, while he remains a ‘lost boy’ forever. the cardigan demo has an alternate lyric where peter actually *leaves* wendy. this does not happen in the original story, and to me, it reads like betty (eh, I don’t think those characters existed when she wrote that song, but bear with me) is accusing him of trying to change their fate by leaving her. peter is meant to always come back to wendy. *she* is the one who eventually leaves him. either way, cardigan ends with them together. yay for betty and/or taylor.

now, peter was written 3-4 years later, and it is the conclusion of a story about outgrowing someone despite truly wanting them back. the ending was not, in fact, changed. she did outgrow him. very sad. I actually want to go lyric by lyric, but I’ll put a cut just in case.

Forgive me Peter

My lost fearless leader

In closets like cedar

Preserved from when we were just kids

Is it something I did

the song starts with taylor trying to figure out what went wrong. did she do something wrong to crush these dreams of theirs? she kept him in a closet of cedar (where unmarried women kept their belongings that they would want to take with them after getting married) in her mind, but things didn’t work out anyway. the first line being ‘forgive me, peter’ indicates that she is the one who pulled the plug, and she’s apologizing for it. again, she isn’t entirely sure what went wrong, which, to me, is a clear parallel to how did it end.

The goddess of timing

Once found us beguiling

She said she was trying

Peter was she lying

My ribs get the feeling she did

when they first met, the timing seemed to be perfect for their relationship (‘the goddess of timing *once* found us beguiling’), but that didn’t last. the goddess of timing claimed that she tried, but nothing could save them. taylor even wonders if she lied, which suggests a lack of faith in higher powers like fate or deities. this verse introduces timing as a major conflict in the story. ‘are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?’

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Words from the mouths of babes

Promises, oceans deep

But never to keep

peter went away, but he promised to come down once he was ready for a relationship. yes, this kind of applies to both of the main storylines on the album. you could take this to mean that they actually broke up a decade ago but promised to get back together, or you could assume there was some sort of break to their relationship, which she and joe did have. i kind of took it to mean that he wasn’t fully committed to the relationship, but he promised to be eventually. again, the renegade lyric, but also ‘i’m a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come’ and ‘I’d hold you as the water rushes in,’ both of which are grand promises that neither party could keep.

Are you still a mind reader?

A natural scene stealer

I've heard great things Peter

But life was always easier on you

Than it was on me

he is charismatic. his magnetic field is a little too strong. he can read people. but he’s also fragile and inexperienced (‘he was a hothouse flower to my outdoorsman’). he may be able to read people, but things have been way too easy for him to ever understand a truly hurt person fully.

And sometimes it gets me

When crossing your jet stream

We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon

In different galaxies

And I didn't want to hang around

We said it was just goodbye for now

this is the thesis statement of their relationship to me. obviously, there’s the call it what you want parallel, but more importantly, it shows that the two people really wanted this to work. they just came from completely different places in their lives and perhaps the entire universe. this verse seems to reference the epilogue (‘resentment rotting away galaxies we created’ / ‘some stars never align’). they learned the right steps to different dances, if you will. she knew he needed time, so she left temporarily.

And I won't confess that I waited

But I let the lamp burn

As the men masqueraded

I hoped you'd return

With your feet on the ground

Tell me all that you'd learned

Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned

she does get with other men, but she keeps longing for him. she wishes that he would return with a grasp on reality and be the man she needs. if anything, the time away would give him the perspective he needs to ground himself. interesting parallel to ‘I said I don’t mind / it takes time’ in loml.

And you said you'd come and get me but you were 25

And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired

Lost to the lost boys chapter of your life

Forgive me Peter, please know that I tried

To hold onto the days when you were mine

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light

this is just devastating to me. well, first of all, both matty and joe were 25 when they first met her, which, lol. the dreams they had together have expired now. it’s been too long. she cannot keep holding onto a love from almost a decade ago. he took too long to return. he lost his lifelong dreams to what was only supposed to be a chapter of his life. she tried to hold onto the days when he was hers, and everything was right, but she had to turn out the light at some point. this is the moment when she gives up on their relationship. she apologizes for abandoning the ship, but she must do it.

overall, I think peter is a story about two people who genuinely did everything they could to be together, but their needs and their growth no longer aligned. there’s a sense of acceptance and lingering fondness here. she did everything she could not to bolt, but the ending was the same.