#the perfect pick me to distract me up from the possibility of my husband going home to texas and realizing his life would be 1000000 times

[stocktonwood]

The Vigilante I/Greg Saunders commission by s.mscott

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 7: Striptease

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky gets turned on while you try on your new designer clothes.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, fingering, ruined orgasm, Bucky speaking Romanian & being obsessed with his wife (yes, those are warnings 👀)

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: this isn’t a typical striptease but I wasn’t sure what else to call this - it’s more of a sexy try on haul with smut. Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

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“What do you think?” You ask your husband who has perched himself at the end of the luxuriously large king bed in your rented villa.

His nose is in his phone, you suspect checking on business back home even though he promised you he wouldn’t work a single minute while on your honeymoon. But as soon as he looks up, his attention switches solely to you, forgetting all about whatever had been distracting him on the device.

One of the many wedding presents Bucky had given to you was a new closet full of custom designer clothes, including that of a swimsuit collection specifically for your European summer honeymoon.

The way Bucky’s eyes widen, desire and lust mixing like twin flames in his ocean blue eyes, makes you melt.

He’s seen you naked basically every day since you began dating, watched your face contort in pure ecstasy more times than you could possibly count, and yet, even now, more than two years into your relationship, he still looks at you like you’re the most desirable woman on the face of the earth. That there is simply no one else capable of captivating his attention in the way you do.

Bucky stands from the edge of the bed, taking slow steps towards you, his cerulean eyes never once leaving your body - not even blinking.

“Uluitoare [breathtaking].” You are still working on improving your Romanian, but by the astonished tone of his voice and the unwavering gaze settled on your body, you’re fairly sure you understand the sentiment.

“Nuh uh - no touching.” Smirking, you swat his hand away playfully when he reaches out to grasp your waist, performing a slow, alluring twirl to give him the perfect view of every angle. Once his eyes have roamed every inch of your frame, lingering at the shape of your ass and tits in your outfit, you lean forward, standing on your tiptoes, and speak lowly into his ear. “Let me put on a show for you.”

With a steady hand on his strapping chest, you press him backwards, pushing him onto the bed. His complete enthralment in your every movement makes confidence soar in your chest and gives you the courage to begin seductively stripping off your blouse button by button.

Your eyes are locked when the light material falls down your shoulders and onto the floor, a soft moan escapes his throat, his bottom lip curled behind his teeth. Even though you have no music to dance to, your hips sway to a rhythm as you unzip your skirt, making sure to provide Bucky the perfect view of your ass as that piece of clothing also drops to the ground.

In nothing but your expensive lingerie, which Bucky himself picked out, you saunter over to him and elicit a groan when you palm his rock hard cock through the material of his trousers.

“What should I try on for you first?” You ask, teasingly turning around and swaying your hips over the fabric of his pants. His growing erection becomes even more obvious as you start letting your hands wander over your own body, taunting him with the sight of your fingers dipping close to your core.

Bucky’s too caught up in the little show you’re putting on for him to even register the question you’ve asked him, but that doesn’t matter, you already know he’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in the sundress you’ve been eyeing off since the start of the season.

Leaving the confines of his warm body, you sway across the room to the rack of new clothes desperate for you to try on. You can feel Bucky’s eyes piercing through your back as you slip into the new dress, and even hear him swear under his breath when you turn around and show off the complete outfit.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” He comments in such an assured and sincere tone that you could never doubt he truly believes it.

Bucky pulls your body into him, so you stand between his spread legs. His fingers immediately toy with the thin material of your panties at the apex of your thighs, pulling the lingerie swiftly to the side and circles his middle finger lightly over your clit.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The rough pads of his fingers feel delightful against your slick folds, but you ache to feel more of him, to be so full of him you don’t know where he ends and you begin.

As his fingers trace tantalisingly through your core, your own cup his strong, stubbled jaw and tilt his chin up so his piercing eyes meet yours once again. You take a beat to admire just how much adoration fills them when he gazes at you, before closing the small space and slotting your lips against his.

For as long as you live, you will never tire of the feeling of his kiss. Butterflies. Palpitations. Fireworks. Even if it’s just his lips connected with yours, your entire body responds.

“Bucky, please.” You beg into his mouth, needing more than just the teasing pad of his finger against your clit.

He suddenly thrusts two thick fingers all the way inside you, his rough palm flat against your throbbing clit as he quickly begins fucking you hard and fast, curling his fingers to drag over your g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that.” His palm smacks against your clit with each push of his hand, the pleasure so overwhelming, you’re forced to hold onto his tattooed bicep for fear that your legs will give way underneath you.

When Bucky starts sucking on your neck, sure to leave a hickey, and using his other hand to massage your breast over the dress, you know you’re done for.

Your fingers tangle in the curls of hair at the nape of his neck as you can feel your orgasm begin to ignite like a match… before all of a sudden you feel completely empty, clenching around nothing, and your incoming high dissipates like smoke into the atmosphere.

“Show me another piece.” Bucky requests before sucking your sweet arousal from his fingers with lips curling in a cocky smirk.

You’re sure Bucky can detect the disappointment on your features, but he simply squeezes your hips encouragingly, head inclining to the other garments you have yet to try on.

“How about a preview of what I’m gonna wear to dinner tonight.” You purr into his ear before taking a couple of steps back on shaky legs, trying to maintain the confidence in your demeanour that you had in your prior performance and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Your movements aren’t as smooth this time, but Bucky looks just as pleased. At this point you’re fairly sure it isn’t the fact that someone is performing for him that has him so aroused, it’s that you’re the one putting on the show.

The dress you had set aside for later is hanging in a garnet bag on the rack with all the other formal dresses Bucky paid for. Your body moves fluidly as you exchange one dress for the other, teasingly giving him only a sneak peak at your best assets, and stripping off your lingerie panties in the process.

“Wasn’t gonna wear these tonight anyway.” You place the lace in Bucky’s outstretched hand, which he takes eagerly before smelling your sweet arousal on them and stuffing them in his jacket pocket.

“We ain’t making it to the restaurant if you’re gonna be dressed like this.” Bucky’s hands travel down your sides, admiring every swell and dip of your figure in the tighter fitting dress. He’s practically drooling at this point. “Especially if you don’t wear any panties.” His fingers find your entrance again and as if he never stopped fingering you, you’re right back where you left off, teetering on the edge of pure bliss when this time he inserts three fingers.

The salacious squelch of each thrust is telling of just how wet you are. You grind down on his hand, hips bucking and twisting to find just that right angle where every single nerve is on fire.

“Be a good girl and cum for me - I know you want to.” That’s all you want, to be his good girl, his perfect wife, and give him everything he asks for, including all your orgasms.

And that’s exactly what you do.

Bucky doesn’t relent, fingering you and simultaneously stimulating your clit until your legs start quivering, you’re screaming his name, arching into his broad chest, tugging on his hair and walls fluttering around his fingers.

He looks up at you while you’re coming down from your high as if you hang the stars and the moon in the night sky - like you’re the sun his whole galaxy revolves around.

“Te iubesc [I love you].” Even though your mind is still catching up to reality, you’ve heard this Romanian saying far too often to forget what it means.

“Și eu te iubesc, James [I love you too].” You respond in an imperfect pronunciation, yet a genuinely affectionate smile blooms on Bucky’s face nonetheless. You can feel his smile grow when he places a gentle kiss against your lips.

“As sexy as you look with this dress on…” He starts, fiddling with the straps on your shoulders, trailing gentle kisses down your spine as he lets the soft material of the dress fall to a puddle at your feet. “I prefer you in nothing.”

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[theemporium]

hi!

I was thinking about remus lupin with secret relationship? Not potter reader but I wanna know how and why he'd go about that.

P.s did you happen to get my last ask? I'm not sure it was recieved

i don't think i did, sorry, i know its been a while since you've sent this too😭thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It was actually your decision to keep the relationship a secret. 

You weren’t ashamed of him nor were you embarrassed to be seen with him. You loved Remus Lupin in a way you didn’t think was possible to love somebody. You hid your relationship because of your family. 

You were from a pureblood family with a very cold and strict upbringing. You were taught how to walk, talk and act like a lady. You were taught to achieve your education with the highest marks. You were taught that by the time you left school, the arrangement for your marriage would be sorted and that would be your life. You were taught how to run a household, how to plan dinner parties and be the perfect, docile, pureblood wife. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the charming werewolf who swept you off your feet. 

You fought your feelings for a very long time, determined that they were a simple phase or distraction that would pass in all due time. But Remus Lupin had stolen your heart and you didn’t ever want it back. 

However, not even a few days after you had come to realise your feelings for the Gryffindor, you had watched an older student—a fellow Slytherin you remembered from dinner parties with other families—be ostracised and shunned from her family over the love she shared with a Ravenclaw boy. 

It terrified you. 

You knew, deep down, that the traditions and beliefs of your family were no longer the norm, and maybe not totally right either. But they were all you knew, they were all you have and the idea of losing them scared you. But you loved Remus—you really did and you weren’t ready to let him go. 

Remus respected it. He knew you needed time and he knew how you felt about him. He didn’t mind sneaking around and late night rendezvous if it meant he was with you.

“What’s wrong?” 

He had noticed all day that you had been acting off and it killed him inside knowing that he couldn’t approach you, that he couldn’t give you the comfort you needed as soon as he picked up on your mood. He had been itching to see you but he knew he had to wait until after curfew. 

Now, here you were, sitting on the couch of the small room that had formed (thanks to the Room of Requirements for you both) with glossy eyes and a letter in your hand. 

“My parents wrote to me,” was all you had to say and Remus was by your side, pulling your body against his until you curled into his side. Your hands gripped his sweater in tight fists, scared that he would disappear and you’d be left alone. 

“Shhh, honey, I’ve got you,” he whispered against the top of your head when he felt you fighting back your sobs. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and you broke as you shoved the letter in his hands, nuzzling your gaze against his chest as your body racked with sobs. 

Remus’ eyes glazed over the letter but it was more than enough. And one word stood out the most.

Betrothal. 

Your parents had settled the arrangement of your marriage. They had found you a husband and hadn’t even bothered consulting you on it. Your wedding was set to be after you graduated from Hogwarts this June. 

There were a million different thoughts racing through his head but one was louder than the others: he was going to lose you, he was going to lose the love of his life. 

“Remus, I—” you let out a shaky breath, staring up at him with tears streaming down your face. “I can’t…I can’t—”

He was so used to seeing you so composed and proper. He was so used to seeing you clamp down any feelings until you knew you were in a safe place to show them, usually when you were alone and able to sort through them. He had never once seen you so distressed or distraught. 

“You’re not going to,” Remus whispered to you. 

But you shook your head. “There’s nothing we can do—”

“There’s always something, darling,” he told you as his warm palm engulfed your cheek, guiding your head up so you were looking at him. His thumb gently swiped away your tears, his lips twitching as you leaned into his touch. “You’re not gonna marry him, I promise.” 

“What are we gonna do?” you whispered, sounding so small and broken. It sounded nothing like you and he hated it. He hated that they made you feel like this.

“I don’t know yet,” he murmured honestly, but the determination was evident in his voice. “But I’ll marry you the day before myself if it means they can’t force you into marrying some snobby bastard. I’m not gonna let them take you away from me, love.” 

Your eyes softened as you turned your head to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Remus Lupin.”

His chest tightened. “Don’t go making me propose, darling. I’m a man with little self-control.” 

But you just smiled at him, resting your head back down on his chest and tightening your arms around his torso. “Fine by me, Lupin.”

.

[landshell]

Trapped by societal convention

Twilight’s eyes darted around the man in front of him to the three possible escape routes. He felt like a rookie getting cornered like this. It was his own fault really. He’d let his guard down. But the op had been going so well up to this point.

It had sounded so simple, just attend Yor’s work party with her and Anya. He had slipped easily into his role for the evening, a slightly toned-down version of the social, affable Dr. Loid Forger he was at the hospital. (The goal was to support his wife, not outshine her.) Yor had told him about her coworkers, so he thought he knew what to expect. (Except from Anya, but his daughter was always the wild card.) He wasn’t even dealing with a concussion this time.

The Forgers had arrived on time, with an appropriate hostess gift. Yor had taken great delight in introducing them to her coworkers. He’d made sure that at least some of the food Anya took off the buffet was healthy. (Bacon wrapped asparagus was technically a vegetable.) After they’d made the rounds as a family, he’d left Yor chatting with her work friends and kept an eye on Anya. She’d found another child her age and they were playing a game with the chess set on the coffee table. (It didn’t look like a regulation game of chess but at least they weren’t running around anymore.)

He’d been making polite conversation with the husband of one of Yor’s coworkers when this man approached. Twilight had recognized him from the list of City Hall personnel, Section Chief Barnes. Then Barnes sprung the trap.  “So, a doctor, eh? I’ll bet you play golf.”  Twilight had had to admit he did. He tried to brush it off with, “I picked it up in Med school, but I haven’t had the time to keep up with it.” The section chief would not be so easily dissuaded.

If there was one thing Mr. Barnes loved more than playing golf it was discussing golf. It had taken Twilight less thirty seconds to determine the man was a buffoon, and two minutes to get enough information to impersonate him should it ever be necessary. And still the man just kept talking.

Mr. Barnes launched into an incredibly tedious play by play of his latest golf game. To make matters worse Twilight had played that particular course (undercover, for a tournament) and was acutely aware of everything Barnes had done wrong. He feigned interest all the same. The section chief set Yor’s schedule. If Loid offended him Yor could get stuck with even more late shifts than she usually did.

Barnes was only on the fifth hole. (And why did he think using a pitching wedge was a good idea in that situation?) Twilight noticed the other guests were quietly slipping out of the room, some of them giving him sympathetic looks as they went. So much for the hope of someone breaking into the conversation and causing a distraction. Maybe he should fake indigestion?

Just then Twilight realized hadn’t heard any horsey noises from the direction of the chess set for a while. He looked over and saw Anya’s little head starting to nod. Perfect! A sleepy child was a socially acceptable excuse to leave a dull party. He smoothly slid around Mr. Barnes. “You’ll have to excuse me. It’s well past my daughter’s bedtime.”

Twilight scooped the little girl up and went to find Yor. When she saw him, and the now sleeping Anya in his arms, she quickly said her goodbyes. “I’m sorry we’re making you leave early.” He said.

“Oh, I think that’s probably enough party for all of us.” Yor replied. As they headed to the car he took stock. Yor was happy and only slightly tipsy, Anya hadn’t broken anything, and he’d escaped from the world’s most boring conversation without any social repercussions. Clearly the operation was a success.

[paranormalactivity5]

♡Dirty laundry ♡

Warnings: PWP, Mdom/Fsub, oral sex (both receiving), spit, dacryphilia degrading, squirting, slapping, reader is bi/pan but it’s barely mentioned

A/N: I had to include the twd:towl reference because Daddy Rick and Mommy Michonne made me 

WC: 2.5k

See gojo was usually an amazing husband, hot, funny, charismatic, and attentive, but of course, he has his faults, one of which being, he hates doing laundry, which pans out just amazing because you also hate doing laundry.  You had a deal, you cooked and cleaned the bathrooms, he did dishes and laundry, now he was good at the first part, granted he never does it without a playful water fight, but he would still do everything to get out of doing laundry. when you realized that all the fancy late-night dinners after work and beautiful new clothes were distracting you, you had just got off early and decided to go home to cook satoru a nice dinner and you spilled some oil on your shirt so you went into your room to change, and then you saw it. I mean you had definitely seen your bedroom within the past week but the view was always crowded by lust or fatigue so you hadn’t saw it and when you did, you could have killed him. Clothes that had been thrown across the room on hot nights had not been picked up as you thought, just stuffed in a corner. He arrived home from work, immediately comforted by the smell of your cooking, but  when he sees the look on your face he knows he’s been caught. Like he always does, he tried to talk his way out of it, which he is usually successful in, but not this time. When that failed he did the next best thing he could think of, he tried to use his body to get out of it, but oh was that a bad idea, because it gave you the perfect one.  Just as he began to place open mouth kisses on your neck, muttering smooth apologies, it hit you, what could you do to truly make satoru gojo understand that you were serious? What would truly get it through his thick skull? Sex ban.  When satoru heard that string of words leave your mouth he thought the world was going to end, don’t get me wrong satoru loves you for every part of you, your face, your mind, your soul, but he also really loved your body. He spent the next 3 hours doing every possible chore he could think of to no avail. 

It had been 3 days since the ban started, and it wasn’t only affecting satoru, as much as you hate to admit it you need him just as bad as he needs you, and he knew that. He wasn’t gunna be the only one suffering throughout this ban he had decided, intentionally wearing as little as possible, sometimes opting for nothing, doing pull ups on the bar he installed a few months ago. It was now Sunday and you were ready to burst at the seam from built up tension, the premier episode of “The Ones Who Live” not helping, currently texting your best friend Karmen about how delicious Rick looked in that all black outfit and harness, your mind wandering to the image of satoru wearing those things. Just as the episode ended satoru walked into the room, he figured it was better to wait till your show was over. He dropped to his knees in front of your place on the couch. “Please my love, I’m sorry, I can’t take not touching you, not being inside you” He leaned in as he said the last part, you could feel his hot breath on your thigh. after a 3 day ban those words sounded like the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. The thing is, you were waiting for this moment, you had forgiven satoru the first night when he did every chore in the house, but you wanted to see him all worked up, you knew the pounding you would get when you finally gave in would make it all worth it. All your resolve crumbled immediately and you practically dove into him, teeth clashing in the roughness of the kiss, his hands gripped your waist, one reaching down to grab the swell of your legging clad ass and squeeze. Your hands rub the softness of his slightly grown out undercut, then they trail down the nape of his neck; it never failed to send electricity through his body, no matter how many times you did it

He dove forward, pushing you back onto the couch and crawling on top of you. The room filled with sounds of sloppy, needy kissing. His hand trailed down your body, making sure to take his time and show his love for your tits. He drug the tips of his fingers against your sides, sending shivers down your spine. Once his hand finally reached the hem of your leggings it stopped there for a second, and just the tips of his fingers broke past the hem and ran back and forth across your abdomen. Even when he was as worked up as he is, he would never miss a chance to tease you; you had a feeling there would be a lot of that as payback for putting him on this ban. He lead open mouthed kisses down your navel and onto the tops of your breasts.

He used his unoccupied hand to pull down the top of your tank top, which you of course had gone braless under. As your tits fell out his mouth immediately attached to your nipple “So beautiful baby. Fucin’ perfect” he mumbled, barely understandable with his mouth full of your tit. His other hand finally broke past the hem of your leggings and inched down till he reached your cunt, sopping with need for him. His long nimble fingers trailed light circles on your throbbing clit  then dipping down to your weeping hole, and then back up, and then down, he continued this action for far too long in your opinion. Your head thrown back letting out whines and gasps “Please ‘toru….” you pathetically whine out. He releases his mouth from your nipple “Please what baby? Come on, you’re a good smart girl, and good smart girls use their words. So, what is it? Please what?” The sound of his voice when he says this makes you want him even more. So as embarrassing as it is, you comply. “You ‘toru…need you” you whine out, god if anyone heard this they’d think you were some pathetic slut; which, you were. Satorus pathetic slut. “Gunna have to be more specific honey…what do you want from me? Where do you want it?” He was always this way, he always made you say what you wanted from him, how bad you wanted him. You knew that this wasn’t just sexual, you knew that you saying how badly you wanted him healed his insecurities that he may not be enough for you. “Your hands, your mouth” “and where do you want them? You want them here?” As he runs his hand along your inner thigh. Fucking tease. “Want  ‘em on my pussy ‘toru” You all but pout when you say it, at this point you were sick of the games, you needed him.

When he heard this a smirk immediately splayed across his mouth. “atta girl” You were thinking about how you wanted to kiss slap that smirk right off of his face until he finally gave in and started rubbing tight circles on your clit, and his mouth met where you needed him most. You were letting out moans of pure lust, gripping and pulling his hair, in turn causing him to moan into your pussy, sending the vibrations through your body. Your legs begin to pull in, wrapping around his head. Before you can get too far in this action, his veiny hand grips your thigh holding it back. He’s still lapping and sucking at your pussy, going between tounge-fucking you and sucking on your pretty, sensitive clit, and you can feel the band in your abdomen beginning to tighten. Then he sucks your clit all while using his tongue to trace figure eights around it, and that’s what causes that tightening band to snap. White spots cloud your vision, and your back arches, your grip on his hair does not lessen, neither do the efforts of his mouth. At this point, you don’t know whether to push him away or pull him in. Before you can decide he rises, his face glistening in your slick, god, he always looked like an angel like this, when doing the most sinful things. 

He climbs back up and kisses you hard, you can taste yourself on him; you understand why he loves the taste so much. You begin to push yourself up and now he is below you on the couch, with you in his lap. You suckle onto his jawline, sure to leave marks tomorrow, which satoru loved, he would say you were “marking your territory” (that joke turned you on more than you would like to admit). You ran your hands down his rock hard chest, the years of jujutsu training serving him well, you stop for a second to play with his hard nipple, He'd never admit how sensitive his nipples were. Your hand kept going down rubbing against his abs, you swear you could ride just them, you might just try, but that’ll have to wait, you have one thing on your mind right now, to please your your man. You toy with the strings of his sweatpants, it’s then that you notice the wet pre-cum stain on the front, he must have been grinding into the couch while he pleased you. now you were going to return the favor. You slip off the edge of the couch and drop to your knees in front of him.

“I was so mean to you, ‘toru, lemme make it up to you?” You look up at him with doe eyes “Please” he whimpers out and spreads his thighs. You pull his sweats down just enough to free his aching cock, a long shaft, not much darker than his creamy skin tone, a pinkish purpleish mushroom head, and trimmed white hairs on the base. You place a small kiss on the tip and then start tracing your tongue along his slit. He lets out a gasp as soon as your mouth makes contact with him, his hips involuntarily buck up. You begin to take more of him into your mouth, eventually taking him to the hilt, feeling the burn in your throat, and your eyes begin to water, but you fight through. You bring a hand up to lightly massage his heavy balls and start bobbing your head up and down. He moans at the action but still, you know what would really make it up to him. You pull back a bit, take his hand in your own, and place it on the back of your head, for the first time, his head comes forward and he looks at you for confirmation, you nod to the best of your ability. He immediately begins bucking his hips, and moving your head back and forth, starting off slow. As your throat loosens and adjusts to the intrusion he speeds up his pace, truly fucking your face now. “fuck…so pretty like this…letting me use that slutty mouth for whatever I please” You moan at his words, the vibration triggering a groan from him. Just as you begin to feel him get closer, he pulls you off. “Nuh uh, my first load in three days is going in your pussy”

He easily picks you up, and you wrap your arms around his waist and keep sucking hickeys into his collarbones as he Carries you up to your shared bedroom. 

Once you make it into the room and past another load of undone laundry he lays you down on the bed, he pulls your leggings off, and sheds himself of his sweatpants. He rests your legs on his shoulders and places a quick kiss on your ankle. He begins to rub his fat cock between your wet folds, you’re practically dripping for him. “Fuck such a perfect pussy…look at her trying to suck me in. I knew you were dying without me, sluts like you can’t go that long without getting fucked” Even thought you could tell he wanted you just as bad, the arousal clear in his voice. “Please ‘toru….put it in, please fuck me” That's all it takes for him to finally push himself inside you, and you feel the beautiful burn of him stretching you out. He lets out an almost pornographic moan when he’s finally inside you, he’ll never get over the way your velvety walls feel wrapped around him.

He sets a fast pace of fucking you that had your eyes rolling back in your head. “Yeah? You like that?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. You try to answer him anyway, but you’re too fucked out to even think so all that comes out is a small “y” sound between moans. Tears begin to prick in your eyes from how good he’s fucking you, as soon as he notices this it adds fuel to the fire inside him. “Aww, you cryin’? Huh? Cryin’ for my cock?” You can only moan and whine in response. He pulls out, but before you can even complain about the emptiness, he’s got you flipped on your stomach, pulling you up into doggy, pressing your back down into a deep arch, and filling you up again. He’s fucking into you relentlessly, abusing that sensitive spot inside you. He slaps your ass, watching it jigglr from the impact then reaches forward and wraps his hand around your throat, applying pressure to your pulse points. “Open.” He orders, and you open. He lets out a cocky chuckle “Look at you, such a cock drunk slut, don’t even question me.” And as soon as he’s done speaking a fat glob of spit falls from his lips to your tongue. The second it hits your tongue you moan and your pussy clenches, this doesn't go unnoticed by satoru. “Yeah? Felt your pussy clench down on me, like being treated like a worthless whore? Yeah, I know you do” Your fists ball, white knuckling the sheets and an unfamiliar feeling begins forming in your abdomen.

The feeling is foreign but it’s not a bad one so you let it keep developing, plus you can feel satoru getting closer, his thrusts getting sloppier, and you can practically feel him throbbing inside you. As he keeps bullying into you, the feeling in your abdomen gets stronger and stronger until it snaps. You could swear you passed out for a second, liquid gushing from between your legs, your whole body shaking. You can hear satoru letting out a string of curses as he reaches his peak as well, the image of you and the feel of your perfect pussy clenching down on him sending him over the edge. He bottoms out, releasing his load, as his balls contract and he fills you to the brim. “Shit. Holy fuck that was hot, you’re doing that again” Oh yeah, you were in for it tonight

[8aji]

Two in love can make it, take my heart and please dont break it. // f.t.

pairing: husband!toji fushiguro x reader, ft. megumi

wc: 1.3k

synopsis: sure, one could think of all those poor parents trying to deal with their kids' attempts at 'parent trapping' them back together, but what about the parents that have the burden of sharing a healthy, happy marriage?

tags/cw: fluff, dad + husband!toji bc best trope to ever exist <3 ooc!toji, mentions of divorce, megumi being very naive, implied insecurity.

a/n: a very very late valentine's gift from me to ya'll <3 i present you this 'parent trap' but not really drabble with toji bc he deserves all the love in the world and im willing to lose sleep if it means he gets it. // quick disclaimer! this was beta read by my best friend grammarly !! so if yall find any mistakes its one them :)

m.list ˖ tags ˖ byi/dni

"What did you say 'Gumi?" You asked, picking up the wooden spoon you had dropped to the floor. You had heard him loud and clear; louder and clearer than usual you would. But just in case your ears were failing you, you felt compelled to ask again, still stunned at the words that had slipped through your son's lips.

The spiky-haired child next to you pouted in dismay, rolling his tired eyes and dramatically sighing in dismay like a tired old man. He let his cheek fall on top of the marble countertop and looked up at you while blowing a raspberry. He wasn't asking anything out of this world; to him, it was a pretty reasonable request that could be easily arranged if only the two of you talked it out like the adults you were.

"I said," he dragged out, huffing once again and letting his arms sprawl in front of him, "If you and daddy can get a divorce."

"Why do you want us to get a divorce–"

"Who's getting a divorce!" Almost like he weighed nothing, Toji had pulled Megumi up into his arms, rephrasing your question into a lighthearted statement before he carefully spun him around, making the pouty kid break into a fit of giggles.

"You two!" Megumi exclaimed back, throwing his arms up in the air when he felt secure enough in his dad's arms.

"I'm sorry, what?" You almost ran to the other side of the counter the minute Toji's face fell in confusion, almost dropping the child he was oh-so securely holding in his arms. "Are we?"

"'Are we' what?"

"Are we getting a divorce?"

"Yes!" 

"No." You cut off an excited Megumi, making him frown again once your husband sat him back down on the counter. He refused to look at you, crossing his arms and moving his face in every direction possible just to avoid your gaze. 

Toji shot you a questioning look, trying to telepathically communicate with you at the sight of your seemingly defeated son, the one who had previously been bouncing up and down as he ran towards you once he got back home from Yuuji's house. 

You shrugged in return, not having even a clue as to why he was acting like he was denied his lifelong wish. You'd have to admit Megumi could be a very dramatic child when he wanted, but with the subject matter at hand? Your marriage with Toji was as healthy as any marriage could be. The two of you even made the bare minimum of going to therapy before raising a child, so what exactly had prompted your son to ask about a possible divorce? You had no clue; maybe you should call Kaori, and ask her what exactly had gone down at the Itadori household. 

"Megs," Toji sat on one of the stools right in front of Megumi, who looked away from his dad just like he had done to you, "why do you want us to get a divorce?"

His question prompted you to follow suit, standing next to him and leaning against his shoulder. Megumi's eyebrows fell into an even deeper frown, hugging his legs close to his chest. He looked straight at his feet, moving them from side to side as if to distract himself from the perfect display of a happy marriage in front of him.

"If you get a divorce." He mulled over the terms of his bargain, tapping his index finger cutely over his chin. "I will learn to tie my shoes on my own, pinky promise."

"'Gumi," you drawled at the evident attempt to avoid the question. You ran your hands through his messy hair, reaching out slowly to see how he would react and almost cooing once he melted against your touch, letting out a yawn in the process. "Aren't you going to answer daddy?"

"Fine," he pouted, making grabby hands towards you; you hadn't realised it was already a little bit past his bedtime. "I want you to get a divorce so me and my friends can get you back together…" He trailed off with a yawn once he was secure in your arms, nuzzling his cheek against the crook of your neck, the last bits of energy wearing off. 

"And, uh, how exactly did you come up with this idea?" You patted his back before signalling to Toji with your eyes, silently telling him to help you put Megumi to bed. You had to admit that even if you were caught off guard by his paradoxical master plan, it still made you chuckle in amusement.

"We had a Lindsay Loohan marathon today."

"'You mean Lindsay Lohan sweetheart?" Toji intervened, trying his best to contain his own laughter as he opened the sticker-covered door, letting you walk inside before leaving it ajar.

"Yes, she." he hummed through a sleepy haze, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand. "Princess Diana and the puppy from Air bud were also on the movie as well."

"In the movie." You corrected, a warm smile overtaking your lips as you laid him down in his bed, motioning Toji to grab his doggy pyjamas. 

"'m sorry," he mumbled, not bothering to hide the big yawn he let out while he stretched, "Princess Diana and the puppy from Air bud were also in the movie."

"'The parent trap'?" Toji asked, brushing away Megumi's fringe before he began to change him, the hint of a smile clear through his words. It was a comically endearing sight; the humongous man kneeling on the floor in front of a tiny race car bed, making his son laugh by tickling his cheeks. 

"'t's one of Yuu's favourite films…"

"Hm, I see." You chuckled, confusion finally melting  into a mild amusement as your kid finally left  his cryptic questions behind. "And did you like it?"

He hummed again, the sound almost down to an imperceptible whisper; he crawled under his blankets while blindly looking for his black and white dog plushies. "Can we watch it tomorrow with pancakes?"

"Chocolate chip or blueberry pancakes?" Copying Toji's previous antics, you brushed your fingers through his tresses while you waited for a response.

"Both please?"

"That can be arranged," Toji adds, fondly looking at the way Megumi pulled his plushies closer to his chest, curling into a little ball as he hogged the blanket. 

You'd do anything in your power to keep the three of you like this; all huddled in your son's bedroom, the only thing illuminating the walls being the small night light next to his bed, with Toji as relaxed as he could be and Megumi all warm and cuddly. 

"For the record," your husband whispered next to you, never tearing his eyes from Megumi's sleeping form, "we're not getting a divorce, right?"

Despite his intimidating over 6ft figure, he was the most precious man to ever exist, with so much love to give even if he didn't know how to express it all that well. He had grown so much from how he had been when the two of you first met, slowly opening up to you and the rest of the world in spite of his fears and insecurities. You knew a lot of it was still deeply buried in the depths of his mind; sooner or later it was bound to arise, even if the trigger was one of Megumi's innocent, though mildly out of pocket, jokes.

Careful not to wake up the sleeping toddler, you scooted closer to him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. A small smile etched on his lips at your touch, moving your interlocked hangs back and forth as gently as possible. No language in the world could describe the love you held for the man sitting in front of you. But you could still try. Not with the overtly cheesy words he was still getting used to, or with the thousand paged essay you could write just describing the beauty within his eyes. But with something else, more simple and genuine even if to others the true meaning could get lost in its simplicity.

"I couldn't even dream of it."

© 2023 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work. affiliated with @tokyometronetwork

[dearestro]

hii, I'm sorry I wasn't very clear in my request, 😅 but I had in mind a story that would be similar to the one in the episode if possible. Anyway, sorry for my lack of precision

Thanks love!

Oh Baby!

Author's Note: Thanks for clarifying! This is incredibly long, so I'm going to post it in parts and it'll be finished as soon as possible! I'll link each part to each post. Sorry it's taken so long!

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, innuendos, and crude language. Sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about childbirth, healthcare, diseases, etc. I read a case file on the internet about the disease I wrote about. Almost everything I wrote I got from the internet, so I apologize if I messed up.

Summary: Having a baby is hard enough as it is, having a baby when your husband's best friend is House? Even harder. Unfortunately, things are just getting started, and the worst has yet to come.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Coming Soon...

Your Pov

"Push! Push!" James shouted over my screams of pain. His arms were wrapped around my upper body, trying to help me sit up more. 

"You say push one more time, and I'll push you!" I threatened. I had been in labor for hours. I was exhausted, sweaty, and damn sure I was never doing this again.

"Right! Sorry sweetheart." He kissed the crown of my head and tried to soothe me. 

"I see a head!" The doctor shouted. I nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

"You're almost there, baby." James wiped my hair out of my face and cooed. "Then we have a literal baby." He smiled, but I could see the tears in his eyes. I tried to smile back, but it was interrupted by another sob of pain. "Just keep pushing. You got this. You're so strong, and I'm so proud of you." He kissed my forehead again, and I was filled with a new sense of energy. Let's get this over with.

I kept pushing and pushing until I thought I might pass out. And with one final big push...the room filled with screaming and crying! I fell backward onto the bed after sitting up most of the time. It was done. James hugged and kissed me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

"It's a girl! Congratulations, Dr. and Mrs. Wilson." They handed her over to me so I could see. I smiled.

"She's perfect." I tried to hold back the cascade of tears but to no avail. James leaned in closer.

"Just like her mama." He kissed my temple. "My two beautiful girls." I laughed lightly. Finally, after all that work. It paid off! The nurse took her away to get cleaned up while the doctor finished everything that was happening down there. James and I just hugged each other. I swear I would've passed out had I not been so excited. 

We eventually got settled into a room, and I got cleaned up a bit. Our baby girl was resting in her crib. I was still on strict bed rest, so James had gone down to the cafeteria to get some better food. He insisted ‘his girls’ rest. I was lying in bed just watching her sleep peacefully when James came back.

“How are my girls?” He whispered so as not to wake the baby. I laughed lightly and motioned for him to come closer. He set down the food and moved the crib closer to the bed. I picked her up and cradled her closely while James sat behind me and looked over my shoulder. He held up a small stuffed bear so that she could see it.

“We’re ok. Aren’t we baby girl?” She yawned and attempted to stretch, although being swaddled hindered her movement. We had yet to figure out a name.

“You know we could just call her baby if we don’t find anything else.” I looked at James, his eyes fixed on our bundle of joy as he made the bear dance around her and caress her cheek. Clearly, he was too distracted to realize how awful an idea that was, but I just patted his cheek and remained silent. 

“She’s so perfect. I can’t think of a name that could do her justice.” I smiled at the small creature while James started to rub my back.

“I can.” I looked back to see his eyes sparkle and him smile at me. I raised a brow, silently asking what he had in mind. “Y/n.” I giggled and shook my head. Even when I had just been through what some might call a hellish experience, he could still make me feel special. 

“No way.” 

“Why not, I’m quite fond of the name.” He bit back a laugh.

“I’m quite attached to it as well, but there’s no way we’re naming our daughter after me!” I laughed back as he kissed my forehead. 

"Fine, we'll continue this discussion later. I brought you lunch." I smiled and gently put the baby back in her crib before resituating myself on the bed as James moved a table over and unpacked the food.

We sat on opposite ends of the bed eating and talking for a while. Just enjoying each other's company.

"You know I saw this thing. They recommend new dads take off their shirts-" James looked at me surprised, and I laughed. "Not like that, my love." He let out a small oh and motioned for me to continue as I giggled at his disappointment. "As I was saying. The new fathers take off their shirt and hold the baby so that they get that skin to skin contact that mothers naturally get. It helps them bond with the baby, supposedly. I know it seems a little silly but-"

"Yes!" I looked up, shocked at his outburst, and raised my eyebrow. "I mean, yes, as in, I'd love to do it." He quickly explained, his face a little flushed. I smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Great. I only brought it up because I thought you might like the sweet experience." 

"Yes, of course!" He then paused, and a look of worry came over him. "She’s not gonna mistake my nipple for one of...yours...is she?" I laughed at the imagery of the hypothetical and shook my head.

"No, I'm sure your nipples will be fine, babe. I'll make sure she's been fed beforehand." He blushed thinking about his silly worry but relaxed when I said that.

It was the beginning of day three (our last day) in the hospital, and baby girl Wilson had still not been named. I was relaxed in bed while James cradled our baby in the rocking chair. He was currently trying out the bonding exercise, and the baby seemed to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and humming. I know I said I would never do this again, but if this is the scene you're rewarded with? Maybe just one more time.

I continued to watch my little family rock back and forth, but the moment was soon interrupted when House came in.

"What the hell are you doing?" I rolled my eyes at his lack of pleasantries. James looked up a little shocked at the sudden noise, and frowned once he realized where or should I say who it came from.

"I'm spending time with my family. Something you might wanna try." He deadpanned, clearly already sick of his friend’s bullshit.

"Without a shirt? Look, I know you like to take on other people's 'burdens' because you have a savior complex, but it's pretty much physically impossible for you to breastfeed." He paused his rant. "Plus, it's weird. I mean, be a man! Am I right?" He looked to me as if he expected me to back him up, but I just gave him an unimpressed stare. James rolled his eyes.

"House, is there something you need? You know besides a better personality?" House turned to him and nodded.

"Yes." We waited for him to elaborate, but of course, he didn’t. 

"And am I supposed to read your mind?" James asked.

"No, but I was hoping you'd put a shirt on and follow me." James looked to me, and I nodded.

"You can go, babe. We'll be ok." He looked hesitant but eventually got up and handed the baby to me before buttoning up his shirt. 

"Ok, but if anything happens. And I mean anything. Call me, page me, tell a nurse, hell have Cuddy request me over the loud speaker-" I pushed my finger to his lips before he could worry anymore.

"I got this. Ok?" He nodded against my finger, and I smiled. "Good. Now have fun. I love you."

"I love you both, too." He leaned in to quickly kiss us both before being ushered out by an annoyed House. Once again, it was just me and the baby.

"And that, babygirl, would be your Uncle House." I sighed as I watched them walk down the hallway, James turning to look back at the room every so often. I smiled and looked down at our baby, caressing her little cheek with my finger. "Don't worry. He'll get used to you soon enough. And when that happens? I bet you two will be the best of friends." She yawned before nuzzling closer to me. What a wonderful life.

Wilson's Pov 

I didn't want to leave my girls, but knowing House, he wouldn't stop bothering us until he got what he wanted...so I followed him. We got to the end of the hallway and waited for the elevator.

“Where are we going? If you hadn’t noticed, I'm off duty!" I asked, getting more and more agitated. I want to be with my wife and our baby, but even then, House manages to pull me into one of his schemes.

“I’m saving you. You should be thanking me. I saw the look in that little monster’s eye. It was about to bite your nipple off.” He said as we entered the elevator while I scoffed and rolled my eyes at his comment.

“First off that ‘monster’ is my little girl. Secondly, she is not an ‘it’, and thirdly, we were bonding, something you might want to try with literally any living thing.” He only rolled his eyes. 

“Not likely.” 

“What are we even doing? Because if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to spend time with my family.” The elevator doors opened, and he turned to me.

“Fine, spend all the time you want with the little rugrat. After we have lunch.” He exited the elevator and started the trek to the cafeteria. I hurried to catch up with…for a cripple he was remarkably fast.

“And when you say ‘have lunch’ you mean I buy your lunch and you condemn my life choices?” He stopped and turned to me once again, holding out his cane so the end was at my chest.

“Yes, but also because after the scene I just walked in on, you desperately need testosterone.” He mocked before continuing the walk to the cafeteria. I rolled my eyes, sighed, and looked at my watch. I suppose I could spare a few minutes…unfortunately.

[welcometololaland]

WIP WORKING WEEK PART 1: THE RING-IN (AGAIN) (not sure if this is 57 sentences exactly but here you go - TK, Carlos and Nancy go to a spin cycle class, and TK and Carlos assess the quality of the restrooms).

The spin cycle class is exactly as TK expects – sweaty, loud and full of middle aged women who are far better at riding a stationary bike than he is. On the upside, he gets to sneak looks at Carlos every thirty seconds and appreciate another perfect part of his husband’s physique: the way the muscles in his shoulders flex as he shifts the distribution of his weight, the tight swell of his ass in workout shorts, the way his skin looks golden in the dim lights, glittering with sweat. 

On the downside, so does everybody else.

Carlos is so distracting that the instructor has trouble maintaining control over the class. Despite their spin bike prowess, many of the women seem to be gradually losing interest in the class as Carlos gets increasingly sweaty. At some point, the music gets turned up, as does the instructor’s mic, trying to redirect attention to the fact that they’re supposed to be changing their resistance every few minutes. On a quick glance, TK suspects a fair few people haven’t gone up a level for half the class.

TK isn’t typically the jealous type. In fact, he feels vindicated by the attention Carlos gets because he finds the man borderline irresistible, and being in love with such a gorgeous creature has made him do some pretty insane things. Even so, there’s a limit to how much appreciation he can endure before he feels the need to savagely stake his claim.

“Stop looking like you want to murder that poor woman in her sleep,” Nancy says through laboured breaths. They’re just about to get back out of the saddle, although TK has sort of lost which part of the class they’re up to.

“Her jaw is practically on the floor,” TK mutters. “Do you think she could pick it up one of these days?”

“You can’t seriously be jealous of Janice over there,” Nancy snorts. “Have you forgotten that your husband is completely obsessed with you? He bought you a pet lizard the other day.”

“Bearded dragon,” TK corrects. “And the fact that Carlos loves me isn’t going to stop me informing the entire class that he’s gay and he’s mine.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, blinking as the sweat from her brow appears to momentarily blind her. “You need to cool down,” she says drily. “Go outside and then come back in when you’re ready to play nicely with the other children.”

“What? And look like I suck?!” TK protests. “I’m not giving Janice the satisfaction.”

“You do kinda suck,” Nancy mutters, “also – and I say this in the nicest way possible – no one is looking at you.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” TK snipes as he stops pedalling and hops off the spin bike, plucking his water bottle from the holder like it’s personally offended him. “Also, you suck.”

“Don’t forget your towel!” Nancy snickers, and then wobbles dangerously on her bike as TK pulls it off with a flourish. He feels like a matador tempting a bull, because the instructor gives him a very dirty look.

TK has to admit, once he’s back in the cool, heavily air-conditioned hallway, he starts to feel a lot better. There’s something about getting sweaty in a room full of other sweaty people that grosses him out a bit and he’s admittedly not the best at being told what to do. Unless it’s at his job, but that’s because he respects his father and Tommy more than he respects most people. A hell of a lot more than he respects any spin cycle instructor, at least.

“Hey,” Carlos says, dropping down onto the bench seat next to him. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

TK takes one look at him and wishes he didn’t, because the concern written into Carlos’ expression combined with his sweat-slicked curls and the big, irresistible brown eyes renders him completely weak.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Just sick of how good you look. Also, I don’t like spin cycle.”

Carlos arches an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yes, you did,” TK mutters under his breath, but loses his train of thought completely as Carlos cups his cheek in one hand.

“You don’t like getting sweaty with me?” he asks, and although it sounds innocent, the wink that accompanies is anything but.

“Careful,” TK warns. “The restrooms are less than twenty feet away and I’m very frustrated.”

Carlos drops his hand and looks over his shoulder, before turning back to TK with a coy smile. “Think there’s anyone in them right now? The class is fully booked and it looks like the reception area is empty.”

TK stares, mouth watering. “Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

“Well,” Carlos replies mildly. “You must be rubbing off on me.”

“I’ll show you something else I can rub off,” TK smirks, before taking Carlos’ hand and tugging him towards the door.

[jeanette-luminia]

𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮) || 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒

PART TWO OF WOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE

TW: Abuse, stalking? manipulative, controlling, swearing, hurt, heavy angst<3

A/N: taking a break after this, requests will be on the waitlist. this is a full 5.7k words and my whole left arm hurts. Can be read as a solo fic? I'm not sure. tell me if there's more to add in tw!

A perfect marriage was all you asked for. Being married to now your so-called husband, Desmond, you thought it would make you forget about the things from the past, more specifically, someone from your past.

But of course, love is cruel, your fate is cruel.

You gather the courage to leave the house as he asked. Well… more like demanded. You wore a long sleeve turtleneck to cover up the bruises and marks that your so-called husband had left. Grabbing a jacket on the way and stepping out of the house for the first time in a while. It almost made you squint with the amount of sunlight shining through your vision. You hesitated to step out of his house — you were too afraid. He has eyes everywhere. Everywhere you go, he will follow you.

But you perceived it. Put your hands in your pocket before going to Weathervane for coffee. Oh, how you’ve missed their coffee. The smell of freshly brewed coffee immediately made you feel homey. You waited for your coffee to be done, the usual coffee you used to have ever since before being married. The thought of you flew by. What if you hadn’t married him? You’ve imagined each scenario carefully, what would your day be like, or if you’d be with someone again.

Of course, it wasn’t possible.

You were pulled out of your reverie when a ding from a bell rang through your ear, indicating that your order is done. You politely thanked the barista and picked up the coffee from the counter and sipped through it. It's almost like your whole problem vanished away. To others, it’s a simple coffee to go by, yet to you, it feels like you were living once again.

Heading out of Wethervane, you almost forgot that someone could be watching you. Everything felt like it was normal. You thought about going to a flower shop nearby. The vases you have at home feel a little lonely and lifeless. Yes, there were flowers there, but it was always those plastic flowers that brought no life into your home whatsoever. A thought pulled you away when someone called you.

Your blood ran cold, thinking it was one of your husband’s henchmen or whatnot. Turning around, it was a friend you haven’t seen in a while. Aera.

“Y/N! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it is you.” She held her hand out, emphasizing her words. While her face is practically beaming with excitement, almost as if she has been longing to see you. You can’t remember the last time you did see her, the past few years have been a blur. You were happy for a moment, but in the corner of your eye, you see someone staring at you. It was almost innocent. It made you sick. Desmond was a powerful man, a controlling one. Defying him would cause catastrophe in your life. 

You hated the man.

Aera stopped, noticing your distant daze. “Y/N?”

“It’s great to see you, but I have to go. I can’t talk to you, I’m sorry,” you said almost too quickly. You didn’t give her a chance to respond to what you just said before running in fear. It was a mistake going out. You should have never gone out of the house. You go away from the scene realizing you had dropped your coffee. Damn it.

You stayed in the study, reading a book you have yet to finish to distract you from the event that occurred earlier. How you wished you could stay, and catch up on how she’s been, even a hug would be nice. You have been longing for a touch that screams love. If a person asked what you wished for right now, you’d wish for a pair of arms to hold you close, and love you.

You have been daydreaming that you didn’t even realize you’ve stopped marking the book where you’ve left off.

However, your butler, Simon, had interrupted your quiet time with a piece of horrendous news you wished to not hear. “Mrs. Salvatore, your husband has arrived.” his flat tone didn’t hide the fact that he is worried for you. The staff has been fond of you ever since you arrived. It was like a sun had shone through the endless void of this horrible house. You always wondered how much they’d endured Desmond’s wrath before you came into the picture.

Before you could reply to Simon, the door opened. Your hands become clammy, trembling a little at the sight of him. He closed the door gently, and it scared you. He never closed the door gently, he usually slammed the door. He slowly loosens his tie before grabbing a whiskey bottle and a glass as you watch him pour the whiskey without saying anything. you silently signaled Simon to leave you two be, but he hesitated before granting your wishes. When he set down his glass too roughly, you knew he was mad.

“I heard you met up with Aera.” He kept his flat tone.

You tried your hardest to be composed. “Yes.” Matching his tone, you almost surprised yourself. The lack of emotions scares you.

"I also heard you left in a frantic, panicking even." He slowly rolled up his sleeves before you heard the heel of his shoes gradually come closer to you. you kept your head low, clutching the book in hand. you feared the way he looked at you.

His finger made an appearance in your vision, grabbing your chin harshly, and forcing you to look at him. "I never said you can't talk to her, now did it?"

you simply nod, afraid that your voice will betray you. He wasn't satisfied, he needed a verbal answer.

"Use your words, woman."

"Yes." Your voice cracked, tears gathering in the corner of your eye. He smiled.

"Good, I was beginning to think that it was because you feared me." he chuckled, letting go of your chin. You quickly hung my head low, slipping a few tears before wiping them away. God, how could someone be cruel?

"Well, Of course, you should fear me." he paused, drinking his whiskey from the glass he once set earlier. "After all, you are indebted to me." His cold tone made you shiver, effectively making you freeze.

You could feel his eyes boring into you. "Remember who you should fear." you didn't want to look at him. No, you could never look at him, especially in this state. He will use your fear against you, to manipulate you. That's the kind of man Desmond is. 

This was a loveless marriage you wished to get away from.

You heard his shoe clank on the floor, before hearing the door open and shut. Upon looking around the study, you took a breath you once held. Your hands are now sweaty with anxiety, and your forehead has a thin layer of sweat. You allowed yourself to slouch onto the chair, putting your hands on your face, masking away the tears forming in your eyes.

You hated this.

Aera didn’t think she could do it. It honestly surprised her that she managed to drag her feet willingly to Larissa’s house. She was initially thinking about going through her office, but making a scene will cause her trouble.

Her fingertip came in contact with the doorbell and patiently waited for the older woman to show up. As soon as she heard the rattling sound of the door hinge, she braced herself for her appearance. They haven't seen each other for four years, ever since you and Larissa broke up. Seeing her again brought back a bittersweet taste on her tongue.

When Larissa opened the door, she saw Aera standing there, clutching the strap of her bag so hard that it’ll leave a wrinkle. She hasn’t had visitors in a while, and her appearance didn’t suit her liking. She knows that she holds a grudge for what she did, she couldn’t blame her. She would too if she were in her position.

“Aera.” She stated.

“We need to discuss something.” She said, narrowing her eyes at her. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” she stepped aside, letting the shorter woman enter her home before closing the doors. “Do you want coffee or tea?” She offered. She knew she was still mad at her, but she at least wanted her to feel comfortable, even for a moment.

“No thanks, I don’t plan to stay for long.” She said it sternly, but her actions hinted that she was getting impatient and wanted to get straight to the point. She made herself comfortable on the couch as Larissa followed her, sitting across the agitated woman.

“Okay then, What do you want to talk about?” She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position for her. Larissa’s head hung low, keeping her eyes on her hands as she fiddled with them.

Aera noticed. The way she fidgets with her hands, the way she looks more tired and frail over the years, the bags under her eyes become visible, the way that stupid necklace is still locked inside her neck with that stupid ring of hers. Not wanting to beat around the bush, she cleared her throat.

“Help Y/N.” As soon as she heard your name, she perked up. She wishes she didn’t but her body betrayed her will. “What do you mean?”

“Help Y/N get out of that loveless marriage she is having with that bastard.” she gritted her teeth, gripping the cushion she is sitting on right now. She didn’t want to ask for her help, but she knew Desmond is a powerful man, and between him and her, she could end up losing the life she had built for herself. While she was powerless, she knew Larissa had some power in her status. She hated herself for reaching out, but she had no choice. The way you looked afraid after meeting up with her, afraid of his wrath. She had no choice but to seek help.

Hearing her words, her head snapped forward, finally facing Aera. A sea of emotions flood through her. She thought you were finally happy with someone, and that you finally found someone to love. Her heart breaks, never in those four years of being separated removed you from her mind. Every day, she had always thought of you. Think about what you are doing, how have you been, or if you already have a child. She didn’t expect you to get hurt again, not after she had hurt you. She felt her eyes swell up with tears.

“Ever since she’s been married to Desmond Salvatore, Desmond practically isolated her in his home. He manipulated her to push everyone — even me.” Her eyes stung with tears as she pointed at herself. “It’s been almost a year since I last saw her. And upon seeing her again today, she was beyond scared, almost as if Desmond is following every step she makes.” She wiped the tears she shed as she hid in her hand.

“So for the love of God, help her then maybe it’ll atone for the pain you’ve caused.” she flinched at the harsh tone she used. Deep down, she desperately wants to see you, to know if you are still okay.

“I will.” Larissa narrowed her eyes at her, keeping an uncomfortable time staring at each other. She was determined to save you from that jerk, the jerk she believed will treat you with everything you deserve. She hated herself for putting you in this situation. Because to be frank, it was her fault for neglecting you and driving you away.

“Where does she live?”

She’ll make things right. She promised.

You heard the doorbell ring, you looked up curiously. It was unusual to receive visitors, especially since your husband is away. Pushing away the thought one of the maids ran to the door and opened it to see who it was. 

As the maid opened the door, she was met with an unfamiliar yet familiar woman. She knew her as the Headmistress of the Nevermore Academy, but she knew the Man in the house did not have any business with an outcast like her. She also familiarizes her with one of the stories you’ve told, about a particularly tall woman with blonde, almost white hair and that charming smile. 

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked cautiously.

Larissa tensely smiled. “Yes, I believe Y/N Salvatore lives here?” She asked, even though she knew the answer. 

You got curious, wondering why the maid is taking so long. Curiosity gets the best of you, it gets you in a lot of trouble. Upon close inspection, you saw the maid in front of the door. The familiar dress made you pause, hoping this isn’t true, wishing that this is just a dream. This is a dream. This. Is. A. Dream.

You finally looked up at the person, and you finally saw her. After years without seeing each other, it made you yearn for her. You hated how much she still affects you, you hated how much she could just show up after the torment she had put you. You hated how beautiful she is after all these years. You wanted to scream, to throw a tantrum at her. You wanted to hurt her. You want to hurt her as she hurt you. This is unfair.

“Y/N…” Her voice is laced with concern, seeing you again made her feel something, something familiar. 

“Y/N, can we talk?” She asked.

The maid in the middle of the both of you debated whether she should get rid of the woman, or let her in. she looked at you, practically asking you to give her some sort of order. You stood still, this is now a one-time opportunity that you worry if you reject, you’d regret for the rest of your life. You sighed deeply, finally looking at the maid.

“Please leave us be, Bella.” You gave the older woman a tired smile. You could tell she was conflicted, you walked over to her and placed your hand on top of hers before nodding slightly. It gave enough reassurance before leaving the both of you.

When the maid left, your eyes were now glued to the floor. “Come in.” your voice was a mere whisper and insisted she follows you. She gently closes the door and soon follows you into the corridor. She looked around the walls, the picture frames, and the paintings. She noticed the states that the maids had given her, it was like they were judging her severely.

Once both of you entered the study, her eyes fell on the big picture frame in the middle above the fireplace. It was you in one of your fancy dresses, she guessed your Desmond bought it for you. You sat still in the chair while Desmond stood, hand behind your back. It made her sick.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is laced with anger, turning around to the woman who is still staring at the photo that you loathed.

She then looked at you. Seeing what's inside of you, what you hide, what you seek, what you’ve been longing for. That's how she looked at you. It made you feel exposed.

“Leave him.”

“Leave who?”

“Don’t play dumb Y/N. Leave that bastard. That bastard you now call husband.” Her anger is spilling, she looked at you more with determination. You’ve never seen her like this, you’ve never seen her so worked up. She was getting furious, not to you, but to him.

“I cannot leave my husband.” you weakly said, keeping your eyes on her.

She scoffed at your blindness. She knows you can see the terrible things Desmond has done, but she doesn’t understand why you’d choose to stay. Just tell me, she thought. Tell me what you need. 

She hits you with a question that makes you tear up, almost wanting to hunch back and sob. “Do you love him?” she asked.

You do not love him. You would never love him. He loathes you, you hated him. Nothing in this marriage is fair. This is a loveless, hateful marriage. You hated him. You wanted to tell her that you hated him, that you wanted to run away.

“I love him…” Your voice betrayed you, wanting to kick yourself mentally. You never wished to hesitate, but it was all too much. You hated how much you are showing to the woman you once loved. But then again, did you really stop loving her? You wanted to love him, you really tried. But he made it clear from the start. You were nothing but a nuisance.

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

“Leave him.” she insists. She never once raised her voice, or accused you of anything, it made you think about what changed her. “I cannot leave.” You emphasized. It was getting harder to breathe. She can see it, the way you clutched your chest, the way she saw the glisten of a thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

“Please tell me why.” She pleads. She wants to hold you, embrace you and protect you. But knowing you, it’ll only feel like she’s caging you.

“Because I am indebted to him.” You silently sobbed, holding everything in was all too much. You sobbed your heart out whilst keeping your voice inside. Ever since being with Desmond, you learned to cry silently. It became a habit.

You hugged yourself as you gripped your shoulders too hard. Surely it’ll leave a mark. “My father loaned money for me to live. Now that he is gone, I am now indebted to him.” You finally meet her gaze, and finally, notice her changes. Her face suddenly got thin, emphasizing the hollow space in her cheeks. Her clothes look slightly bigger to her. The bags under the eyes were now visible. Even her lipstick has changed, going for a darker red rather than the red she usually wore. Your eyes landed on her neck, specifically, the ring on her necklace. You wondered if it had always been there before, or that she found another woman to love. It confused you. You hated how much of an effect she had on you.

“Do you get it now? I cannot leave—”

A beat. It made you freeze. “And you never will.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, fearing him. He heard you, he heard your conversation. What's worse is that he had caught you talking with your ex. “Leave us, Simon.” As much as your butler hated it, he left the three of you to unfold what’s gonna happen.

“Now.” his voice laced with venom, making you flinch. You clenched your fist together and bit your lower lip which will surely bruise later on. “Why on earth are you here, Weems?” Your instinct was said to protect her. You don’t know why. It was like your heart decided for you, and not your head.

“–She was just about to leave!” You interrupted Larissa before she managed to utter a word. Before she can interject, you manage to grab her hand and lead her through the door. You pushed Larissa away from your study, and with your frantic movement and teary gaze, you plead for her to leave. “Leave now. Please leave.” you plead before hearing your husband call your name.

“I need a word with my wife.” He suddenly appeared beside you, hand firmly gripping your waist, making you wince in pain. Avoiding her protest, Desmond roughly guided you back into the study.

She hesitated, before seeing the man called Simon from earlier. She noticed his worried feature. She now noticed how the house seemed tense, almost as if they knew what was gonna happen. He paced around, his hands fiddled in anticipation, but he couldn’t do anything other than hear the moment unfold.

Suddenly, he was broken out of his reverie when the tall woman he once saw beside you walked up to her with haste. He gathered his composure quickly and bowed to the taller woman. “Call the police.” He froze at her words, he looked at her and saw how watery her eyes are. He saw how desperate she was to save the lady in this house. He felt a sense of respect for her.

“Understood.” He quickly fled the corridor, sprinting as he look for a phone to make a call. Larissa stood there, thinking about what she should do next. Should she waits for the police to arrive? Or Should she barge into the doors? Her thoughts racked her mind, standing in the middle of the halls. But the sound of the glass shatter in the study room, where you and Desmond are, made her snap out of her reverie. Without thinking, her feet dragged her towards the study and busted open the door.

She couldn’t forget the look on your face, crawling backward to get away from Desmond. The fear plastered in your eyes was unbearable to look at, the way you shook your head continuously, making up words she can’t even hear anymore. Desmond holds a broken red wine bottle, dripping with leftover red wine. If someone saw this scene, you’d think it's blood. If she was to wait for the police, it would all be too late, and she would break the promise she made to herself.

So, she chose the latter.

“You are a disgrace. Choosing the woman who once hurt you. Are you that much of a whore?” His laughter bombarded the whole study. His voice was loud enough for at least someone to hear him. That was her last straw. She couldn’t take it anymore, the insults, the death stares, and now this. She grabbed the nearby vase on the pedestal and ran toward where Desmond slowly inched away from you. Desmond was too focused on you that he didn’t notice Larissa with a vase in hand.

She lifted the vase. Then, Desmond sensed her presence, she looked behind him. The look she gave him made Desmond… afraid. It made his knees weak, it was a look that no one dared to give him up until now, it almost looks like a killer look. Larissa looked at him with pure spite, pure hatred. She gripped the vase hard, almost cracking it. Before Desmon could even react, Larissa had smashed the vase on his head, breaking it into pieces as he fall onto his knees.

He couldn’t comprehend what happened, his head pounded so loudly, it made his ears bleed. He was on his knees as he gripped his head where he was hit, he felt something wet and thick. Looking at his hand, he saw his own blood painting his hand. While Desmond was preoccupied with himself, Larissa had run onto your shaking figure, whispering nothing but pleas and mercy.

“Darling, come with me, I’ll get you out of here.” She changed her whole demeanor as if she was now a different person to you. You trembled upon seeing that just happened, you were afraid, but not to her. Something about her made you lose your fear, maybe the way she used her voice? The tone? Her gentle eyes? Her soft hands? You don’t know anymore. You don’t want to know anymore.

You want to take her hand, but you were too paralyzed to do so. But she was patient, it was something you were glad she hasn’t changed about herself. You nearly missed the way Desmond picked himself up, grabbing the broken wine bottle beside him. You felt your fear spike up again, the urge to push this woman away from this. This is your problem, she shouldn’t be here, she shouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. This is your problem, yours only.

She should have just left you alone, then maybe, she won’t witness you like this.

You pushed her away, creating a gap between you as Desmond swung the wine bottle in between you. You missed the way your heart skipped a beat, you nearly stopped breathing. You crawled away before he could swing it again, now facing you. But before it could hit you, Simon grabbed his wrist, twisting it at an unusual angle, while he grabbed his other wrist and put it behind his back. Desmond screamed in pain, dropping the wine bottle right before you. 

You heard the siren from the police nearby gradually getting louder and louder. “What is the meaning of this, Simon?” He yelled demandingly, screaming like a maniac. His eyes grew wide. He was livid, mad. You feared that Simon would get hurt, or anyone for that matter. You never want anyone to go through this. “Simon!” You yelled.

“That’s enough torment to lady Y/N.” He said. This was the side you never saw in him. He was kind, always with a smile. This side was something different. Before Desmond could do any more damage, the police finally rounded him. When the police pointed the gun at him, telling him to put his hand up, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You finally allowed yourself to breathe freely. You know that it is not truly over, but you wanted to feel free, at least for a moment.

“Desmond Salvatore, you are under arrest.” You recognize the voice. Looking up where you sat, Sheriff Galpin emerged through the door, holding his gun up and a handcuff in his other hand. Simon let go of him as the police took over, putting the handcuffs behind Desmond. “No, this isn’t right, the real lunatic here is her!” he pointed at Larissa, who, at the time, was gathering the strength to stand up. She didn’t dare to speak, not because she was guilty of the wound she gave Desmond. She only stared at him, she was calm — almost too calm. It was unsettling, even for you. Desmond clicked his tongue as she stared at Larissa for too long, towering at her height. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he felt intimidated by her.

He snapped his neck toward your frail figure, and he ran toward you but failed to do so. Fortunately, Sheriff Galpin had caught him in the act and pulled him back immediately, not only that, Larissa had stepped between the space you had between him. “Tell them, Y/N! Tell them that she’s the fucking lunatic.” His remarks made you jolt, flinching at his harsh words. The Sheriff had pushed him out of the study, nodding at Larissa before sending Desmond away for a long time. She finally sighed as she felt the room become more spacious, finally able to breathe for a while.

Turning around to see you still on the floor, long lost in your reverie. She hunched down, eyeing your eyes. She only sees fear, it was somehow the same fear you had when she had lashed out four years ago. Using her fingernails to tap on the floor, making her presence noticeable. “Can you stand?” You only shook your head, feeling the adrenaline rush through you, you were afraid that if you tried to stand up, you’d just fall.

“Allow me.” Simon butted in, gently taking your hands and lifting you up. You were shaken up at this point, not knowing what to do. “Let’s take you to your bedroom.” His soft gentle voice made you ease your racing heart, following him as he guided you into your bedroom. Larissa stayed behind, watching closely your interaction with him. She watched in awe, awe at how much people care for you. As soon as the three of you had stepped out of the study, a horde of maids gathered around, checking up on your condition.

“Oh, Mrs. Y/N.” Bella’s voice managed to get through the crowd, looking at the damage that Desmond has caused right before her eyes. “Let her through.” She said irritatedly. Once those words left her mouth, the maid made way for you to get through. You thanked them silently, but you wished you could have worded it better.

Just before Larissa could join you upstairs to your bedroom, Bella had called her in. “Ms. Weems.”

Larissa turned around. She noticed that she held out a tray with the first aid kit box, A jar of water, and a glass. Her expressions were something Larissa couldn’t read. She drew her lips thin as the older woman inched closer the tray towards her, indicating that she should take it. “It seems like Mrs. Y/N needs you more than us.” Then, Larissa saw a small, yet kind smile from the older woman, her worries ease. She slowly took the tray. She glanced at the woman who have this… relief on her face. Or was it something else? She couldn’t decipher.

“Thank you.” She excused herself, making her way up the stairs to go to your room. In the corner of her eye, she saw Simon entering one of the rooms down the hall through the left, she guessed it was your room and headed towards it. The first sight she sees is the big window illuminating the dark red curtains. She noticed how your bed was made, the same way you made your bed every time she visits. She sees you sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing toward her. Simon had draped the curtains on the side, letting the sunlight shines. As Simon turned around, he saw Larissa holding a tray with the first aid kit needed and water.

He smiled in her direction before leaving the room.

Larissa slowly made her way toward you, fear and anxiety slowly creeping up on her body. She set the tray on your bedside table and grabbed the nearby chair to face you. “... Can I see your face?” She hesitated, looking into your hands fidgeting. Right before she could say something again, you had shown your face to her, now staring at her eyes. She couldn’t form any words, she only stared at you.

She searched your face, neck, and neck for any clear signs of injury. She did, however, found a few bleeding cuts on your arm and legs, guessing from when Desmond had shattered the glass. She quickly cleaned each cut gently, putting petroleum jelly and covering it with a bandaid whilst looking at you, silently asking for your consent.

She finally looked up, finishing covering the wound you have on your knee when she noticed your eyes drifting away from somewhere, staring at something. She followed your eyes, only to find that you’d been staring at the ring she has on her neck. She felt her shoulder stiff, unconsciously grabbing the right and fiddling with it whilst you continue to stare at it.

“What’s with the ring?” you murmured, pointing out the right from her neck before looking at her with hesitant eyes. Did she really find someone better? But if she did, where are they?

“Your thoughts are quite loud.” She breathlessly chuckled, already knowing what was going through your mind by reading your eyes change. The way your pupils change, or when you subtly bit the bottom lip of yours. You chuckled alongside her, finding it amusing how she can still read you. “This is…” She hesitated before looking at you. Taking a deep breath and gathered the courage to say it.

It’s now or never.

This is supposedly the ring I was gonna propose to you.” She muttered the last part, she thought you didn’t hear it, but the way your eyes widen by surprise, jaw slacked, almost open — she knew you had heard her. “I’m sorry.” She said, taking your hand.

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” Her voice cracked, tears gathering in her eyes, and gently caressed your thumb. You had your head low, meaning she couldn’t see your face. Part of her wants to know how you reacted, how you comprehend it. But, another part of her wants to keep your face hidden within her reach, she doesn’t want the same thing to repeat over again. She noticed how your chest rises up rapidly while trying to maintain it at the same time, and your shoulder is rigid, trembling every time you breathe.

“I can’t…” you said. “I can’t trust you anymore.” you cried out, waves of emotions hits you like an ocean, trying to get to the surface to breathe only to be hit with another large wave, pulling you away from the surface. “I just can’t.”

“... Will you let me?”

“Let you what?” You asked, barely a whisper anymore.

“Will you let me show you that you can trust me?” She let her tears slip.

You shook your head, retracting the hand that once held hers, “I don’t trust myself enough to pull away when I needed to.” you explained as best as you can without your hiccups breaking off what you were saying.

She understands. If she was in your shoes, she wouldn’t either. But she was deeply, madly crazy for you. She wanted to try again. She wants to wait for you, at least for you to trust her once more. She will try again and again. She wants to give you the life you have deserved once more. She does not want to fuck up as she did.

“I'm not demanding you to trust me, I am asking you. I want you to know that you have a choice in this. Then, will you let me show you that you can trust me again?”

Maybe some part of you wished she’d keep pushing. Pushing the thought of trusting her again — of course, it’ll take time. She knew that. She knew that there will be a chance when you’d trust her again, and there will be one where you won’t — leaving her. She was willing to make that chance. It was her decision.

You didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. You let Larissa take care of you, nurture you back. You didn’t say anything, you knew deep inside, you were willing you let her show you.

© 𝐋𝐔𝐕-𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐃 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate. please ask me first then credit me once you shared my work to other platforms.

[atopvisenyashill]

What if Stannis was the eldest instead of Robert?

This one kinda stumps me tbh. On the one hand, Ned & Stannis are far too similar to ever grow particularly friendly but on the other hand, Stannis isn’t gonna sleep around on Lyanna (he’s barely gonna sleep with her lmao) so Lyanna is probably not itching to leave that betrothal? But on the other hand, Stannis is gay in a very Roman “my god i HATE women i’m gonna suck dick instead” kinda way due to the patriarchal hellhole he lives in, and I can’t imagine him approving of how wild Lyanna is, and what 15 year old girl wants to be married to a dubiously heterosexual stick in the mud? on the other hand, stannis reiterates at several points that shireen is his heir, and he makes it a point to offer for renly to be his heir over shireen, meaning he believes in the andal “a daughter before an uncle” law so there is *some* hope for him?

regardless of how lyanna and ned and robert and stannis all feel, Lyanna is still going to save Howland from being picked on, enter the lists, beat some ass, and get found out by rhaegar, who will still crown her queen of love and beauty. he’s still gonna get fixated on her and since we don’t know how willing she was, it’s entirely possible that he makes off with her even if she says “well stannis is annoying but i promised.” brandon & rickard are still gonna go to the capital and demand lyanna back, and aerys will still kill everyone brutally and jon will still raise his banners and refuse to hand over ned and stannis.

in THIS situation tho - it’s called robert’s rebellion for a reason. for all his many failings as a ruler, a husband, a father, and a brother, robert was the perfect figurehead for this rebellion. he was military minded, thick as a castle wall, charming, and had distant valyrian blood. stannis has the valyrian blood and that’s about it. i think stannis is smart enough to get through the beginning of the war but we don’t know why the smallfolk decided to help robert in the battle of the bells. it could be they were just as sick of aerys as everyone else and would have helped any rebel, but just as likely it was robert HIMSELF who inspired that loyalty. even assuming they still hide stannis, is he capable of defeating rhaegar at the trident without help? that image of Robert’s warhammer coming down on Rhaegar is iconic not just for the series but for the rebellion! does ned step into the fight, to save stannis, to fight for his sister? does stannis declare his intentions towards the throne?? given him being a stickler for law, i think it’s much more likely stannis goes for a dance esque approach, and insists they crown baby aegon and have a group of trusted regents - this being the SECOND time a baby named aegon is crowned after all the adult targs have died, and the last in a long line of mad kings, even if that’s what stannis pushes for, with the momentum of the rebellion, i don’t know that the lords would be satisfied with that! robb certainly wasn’t trying to be named king but he couldn’t stop the momentum of the northern rebellion, and stannis - especially a stannis that hasn’t lost the battle of blackwater and had a come to jesus moment re: every life matters with edric storm and davos - is NOT gonna be able to unring that bell. beyond that, every other conflict has involved a targaryen claimant on both sides but stannis/robert are distantly targaryen only. too much infighting and i think that when ned marches on KL to beat tywin there, jon and hoster decide to push for a great council.

and that’s IF robert keeps mace distracted! because robert isn’t gonna sit in a siege, he’s gonna fight and mace is putting up a very low effort siege here - he doesn’t want to fight, he’s wary of picking on side too strongly, he’s purposefully trying to starve storm’s end out by sitting on his ass and sitting out the war. robert isn’t gonna wait for davos and his onions, he’s gonna try to break the tyrell host.

and honestly, even with the rebels still winning, without a king to rally behind, the political situation is looking. dire. who knows what a great council decides bc there are a lot of very proud men jockeying for power in the aftermath of the sack of KL, not to mention Rhaella crowning Viserys and birthing Dany and also, ya know, the Jon Snow Of It All. Robert’s Rebellion ends the way it does because Robert is an excellent figurehead for Jon Arryn to push onto the throne. Stannis doesn’t have the charisma and given he’s just as stubborn as Robert, I don’t think Jon is gonna be able to make him do jack shit. that leaves the rebellion and the realm at large in a precarious and weird situation, politically. do they crown a guy who inspires very little loyalty? do they crown an infant? a toddler? a woman? do they crown NED, with no claim to the iron throne, even distantly? do they call up maester aemon and ask him to sit on the throne while they figure out what the fuck they’re gonna do? do the kingdoms break back up??? without robert to lead them, and with stannis being stannis, i think it becomes more complicated. at the end of the day, if they decide their best option is stannis, he will feel duty bound to take the throne but you can bet your ASS he’s not marrying a lannister, or a tyrell, without a lot of cajoling bc he’ll see them as cowards. and who even are his options after that? lyanna is gone, elia is gone, rhaella is gone, rhaenys is gone, dany is an infant. lysa or cat wouldn’t be terrible choices but cat’s going to marry ned no matter what & i don’t think jon is gonna push for a girl he knows isn’t a virgin to be queen. they’ll want him married right away, but there really aren’t any suitable brides besides cersei and maybe a hightower or two? tricky tricky! robert is key to the rebellion working, without him, it goes sideways!

[raewrites94]

Newlywed’s First Bonfire

I posted this on AO3 and thought it would possibly do well on tumblr too. Who knows. *shrug* Edited by me and unbeta’d, so. Mistakes are my own. also, this was inspired by a tiktok, if you want to see where I got the idea from. 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Words: 3.4k

Tags: Recreational Drug Use, just absolute fluff, no use of y/n

Summary: As newlyweds, you've just purchased a house and begun doing projects with your husband on your property/house and one night Eddie convinces you to have a bonfire so the two of you enjoy the evening with some weed and dancing.

Rating: T? I don’t think the marijuana use necessitates a mature rating, but lmk if you disagree.

“Hey, you know what we should do?” Your husband Eddie asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You were standing at the stove, cooking dinner for the two of you and you yelped as he quietly snuck up behind you. 

“Jesus, Eddie! Warn a girl, why don’t you?” You chuckle. Though you do lean back into his chest and rest your head against the crook of his neck and he presses a kiss to your temple in apology. “Tell me what we should do.” 

“We should have a bonfire!” He announces as his lips move to press another kiss to your cheek. “The wind has finally died down and it’s perfect fire weather.” He claimed as he continued to pepper kisses down your cheek to your neck.

You hummed as you thought about it, stirring the pasta as it cooked. “Okay, let’s have a fire.”

“Yes!” He suddenly pulled away from your body and you turned and watched him pump his fist in the air. “I’m gonna go chop some wood before it gets too dark. Call for me when dinner’s ready?” He stepped up to press one last kiss to your cheek and you nodded affirmatively, humming as you turned back to the stove. You listened as the sliding door slid open and shut as he walked outside to the backyard.  

As you continued to monitor the food on the stove, you slowly shuffled over to the sink to look out of the big window that was above it. You watched as Eddie danced around the yard, grabbing his ax from the shed before walking over to your pile of wood that you’d gathered together from trees that had fallen on your property. Watching him chop wood had to be one of your top favorite activities. If you weren’t already cooking dinner, he would have invited you out to sit nearby and watch. You were able to watch him chop a few pieces, but then you did have to turn back to the stove to make sure you didn’t overcook the noodles and so you could start making the sauce. Tonight it was chicken alfredo and you did not want to ruin dinner, you were far too hungry to make something else if you got too distracted watching.

Once everything was ready to be put together in the sauce pan, you started to slice the chicken where it was resting on the counter. Then you slowly added the noodles, a little bit of pasta water and stirred everything together, making sure to coat all of the fettuccine with sauce. After it was all incorporated and you turned off the flame, you moved the pan to another burner. Then you walked over to the sliding door, opening it to walk out on the deck, watching as he cut a couple more pieces. 

“Dinner is done, my love.” You called out from where you stood leaning over the railing. 

“Don’t start without me! I’m coming!” He called back, quickly carting a pile of split wood over to the fire pit before running up to the deck and taking the stairs two at a time. “Come on, baby.” He grinned, reaching out for you and steering you back inside with his hands on your shoulders.

He deposited you at the table, having you sit down and you watched as he quickly washed his hands before stepping up to the stove where you had already laid out two plates. Since you had cooked it was his job to plate so he gave you both heaping portions of pasta before gently laying the grilled chicken on top. He then sprinkled some parsley and grated fresh parmesan over the top before picking up both plates and bringing them to the table. 

“Thank you for cooking dinner.” He said as he leaned down and you tilted your head to the side for him to give you a kiss on the cheek. That cheek kiss was practically part of your routine by now. You nodded your head back as your eyes followed his movements to put down your plates. “Anything to drink, wife?” He grinned as he said it. Never tiring of calling you his wife or you calling him husband. 

“Water for me, please, husband.” You replied, smiling back. 

“Glass of water, coming right up!” He exclaimed, reaching to grab a glass from the cupboard before walking over to the refrigerator and reaching in to pour from the pitcher of filtered water. He repeated the process and then returned to the table with two glasses and set both of them down before finally taking his seat across from you. 

The two of you quietly ate dinner together, stopping after a few bites here and there to talk about your plans for the weekend. His next tour with his band didn’t start for a couple more weeks, so you were slowly but surely completing projects around the house and your property before autumn gave way to winter and brought snow with it. This weekend, though, you were hoping to take a break. You were tired of yard work, tired of climbing up ladders over and over as you made repairs to the house and you just wanted to spend some time with your husband. 

“We’ll have no plans, then.” Eddie chuckled after listening to you complain about being tired. He was tired, too, admittedly. “I have no arguments about taking a break. In fact, I think I’m the one who always tells you to take breaks and you ignore me.” He pointed an accusing fork at you. 

“I’m listening now?” You shrugged, a small embarrassed smile on your face. You knew he was 100% correct in that he was always telling you to take breaks or you’d hurt yourself. 

“Even more perfect of a night to have a bonfire, then, hm?” He asked, as he looked back to his plate and scooped another bite before shoveling it in his mouth ungracefully. 

“Yes, husband. Great idea.” You rolled your eyes at him, cocky enough to initiate praise for himself and took another bite from your plate as well. When the both of you finished, you stood, bringing your plates and glasses over to the sink for you to wash later. “Go get the fire started, I’ll meet you out there in a few minutes.” 

“Aye aye,” He agreed, saluting before pulling open the door and returning to the firepit to get it going. You watched him for a few minutes from the window before crossing the kitchen to get to the fridge, pulling it open and perusing what you could bring out there. You decided to bring a couple of bottles of water and cans of soda, putting them into a small cooler with some ice packs, before closing it and the fridge. Then you grabbed a blanket and the accouterments you’d need to smoke, bringing everything out with you in one trip so you wouldn’t have to go back inside of the house. 

“Is my wife under there?” Eddie chuckled, calling out to you from the yard as you walked across the deck and down the steps. 

“Ha, ha!” You yelled back. The blanket was haphazardly placed on top of everything, including your head so all he could probably see of you were your legs. You managed to cross the yard without tripping over anything and set your supplies on the ground, then handed him the little pouch you’d brought out with your bowl and a lighter. “Hold please!” You quickly walked over to the garage, opening the door and turning on the light as you looked around for what you needed. “Aha!” You exclaimed as you finally laid eyes on it, walking around your car to get to the double camping chair you’d bought last year for you and Eddie to sit together. 

“Ah, yes. Somewhere to sit, good thinking.” He nodded sagely as he watched you walk back over to him through the little illumination the fire provided. “Trade?” He offered, holding out for you to take the pouch back, as he took the chair from you. Then he walked around the fire to find the perfect spot before getting it unfolded. He made a full circle around the pit as he picked up the blanket and the cooler you had brought with and deposited those by the chair as well. “My wife is so smart.” He muttered as he shook his head to himself. He hadn’t even thought of anything else besides having the fire. 

“My husband is also very smart.” You spoke lowly into his ear, having walked around the pit and sidled up close to him. You placed a kiss to his jaw, just below his ear and sat down on the chair, fluffing the blanket out across your lap and patted the seat beside you.

Before he joined you, Eddie walked over to his pile of firewood and grabbed a couple of pieces and placed them strategically into the pit. Or at least you assumed he was being strategic about it, you had no idea how to start a fire, that’s why it was his job. A smile started to stretch across your face as you watched him spread his legs and squat down. “Me husband, me love you. Me make fire, ooh ah ah.” He grunted in his best impression of a caveman. 

“Get over here, funny man.” You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes. The fire illuminated his face so you could see the soft grin as he walked over and finally sat with a light ‘oof’ onto the chair next to you. After you draped the blanket over his lap as well, you reached down to get a beverage for each of you. “Something to quench your thirst, good sir?” You asked as you turned your head to the side, pushing your hair out of the way so you could see him. 

“One coca-cola for me, fair maiden.” He requested. You hummed and nodded your head, turning to look down into the cooler as you grabbed both of you a coke and handed one to him. Then as you sat back, you took the pouch out from under the blanket and opened it, handing him the bowl and the herb you had pre-ground up.

“Would you do the honors, please?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“As if I could say no to you.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “You got a light? The fire isn’t giving me much.” 

“Oh, sure. One sec,” You muttered as you dug into the pocket of your sweatshirt. Or rather it was Eddie’s, you were just wearing it at the moment. Then you turned on the flashlight on your phone and brought it up so he could see better. 

“Ah! Let there be light!” He roared out. Then he focused as he packed the bowl, handing you the jar so you put that back in the pouch and tucked it into the chair beside your thigh for now. When you turned back, he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed as he focused on something else. What he was focused on, you had no idea. 

“What?” You asked, looking around to see if there was something missing. 

“Is it quiet out here or is it just me?” He asked then, finally turning to you after having figured out what was missing. 

“Oh! You are correct. Lemme go turn the speakers on!” You immediately made to jump up, but Eddie pulled you back down by your hips. 

“Ah ah! I will do it. Sit back down, lovely wife.” He grinned, kissing you on the cheek before handing you the glass bowl and flipping his side of the blanket over onto your lap as he stood and crossed the yard to the garage, reaching in to flip the light on before stepping  inside to turn on the stereo, letting music softly play over the speakers that were mounted outside. “Loud enough!?” 

“What!” You yelled back, a big smile on your face as you pretended you couldn’t hear him.

“I said, is it loud enou-! Oh, I see what you’re doing. Very funny!” He chuckled, closing the door behind him before running back to plop back down next to you. “You haven’t even taken a hit yet?” He asked as he looked down at the bowl and lighter in your hand and then back up at you.

“I was waiting for my husband.” You replied, a cheesy grin on your face. “I will never ever tire of calling you that.” You hummed, closing the distance between you to kiss him softly.

“And I will never tire of calling you my wife.” He responded quietly after pulling away briefly, then connected your lips again. 

“You want first dibs?” You asked, holding the bowl out to him. “Come on, I know you always say “ladies first”, but you packed it and you made the fire, so you go first.” You added, shoving it closer to him. 

“Fine! Twist my arm why don’tcha” He breathed a laugh out through his nose and shook his head before taking it from you and bringing it to his lips. You watched as the flame from the lighter illuminated his face briefly and then he took a deep inhale, holding the bowl between his thumb and pointer finger. Then he handed it to you and you took the next hit, inhaling deeply before coughing and handing it back. 

“Fuck,” You grunted out as you continued to cough. Then you cracked open your soda and brought it to your lips, hoping it would help the burn in your throat. It did, but only for a few seconds as it glided down your throat, and then the burn was back. “We need to get some edibles or something.” You groaned, clearing your throat over and over to help the burn subside.

“Sure thing, baby.” Eddie grinned before lighting the bowl again and taking another hit. “Anything for my wife.” He said as he held his breath before tilting his head back to blow it up into the air. Then he held it out to you again so you took it, taking another hit, and this time you managed to not cough. Once it was cashed, he scraped out the contents onto the ground and handed you the bowl and the lighter which you put back into your designated pouch. Then you snuggled up into his side, his arm easily coming up to wrap around your shoulders as the both of you got comfortable. 

“You know what we should do?” You asked, suddenly breaking the silence that had stretched between you.

“Do tell.” He hummed as he pressed a kiss into your hair. 

“We should get a dog.” You sat up slightly to watch his reaction. He didn’t seem opposed, so that was definitely a start.

“A dog, eh?” He rested his head against the back of the chair as he thought about it. “Already want to start our little family huh?” He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your hair. 

“Yeah. Want a big family of dogs and cats. Ooh and chickens!” You excitedly replied, already picturing it.

“Okay, slow your roll, sweet pea. Let’s start with one dog, shall we?” He laughed at your eagerness. 

“Hmph.” You pouted as you snuggled back into him. “One dog, then.” You then agreed, after realizing he was saying yes after all, just not saying it to dogs, cats, and chickens. 

“Let’s go to the shelter next weekend?” He offered, leaning his cheek against your head as he started to hum to whatever song was playing over the speakers. 

“Yeah…” You hummed, grinning to yourself in happiness. “I love you.” 

“And I love you.” He replied, squeezing your arm with the hand that was around your shoulder. 

“If we get a dog while you’re on tour though, you know it’ll love me the most.” You pointed out after thinking about it. 

“Hm… Then we’ll just have to get another dog when I get back!” He suggested, as if that was the obvious solution. 

“I think that’s a great idea.” You grinned as you pulled your head off of his chest and arched your neck to place a kiss underneath his jaw. 

After sitting there snuggled up for a little while longer, Eddie finally moved to stand up and walked over to his pile of firewood and grabbed a few more pieces to put on. The fire had started to die out and neither of you were ready to call it quits yet. There was nowhere you needed to be, so you could spend hours out here if you wanted to. He was about to sit back down when the song on the radio changed. “Recognize this one?” He asked, grinning as held his hand out for you to take. 

“Of course.” You grinned softly as you put your hand in his and allowed him to pull you up. It was the song you’d chosen for your first dance as husband and wife. The wedding was just a few months ago, after all, so how could you forget?

“Dance with me?” He requested, already pulling you into his chest and wrapping his hand around yours and placing the other one on your lower back. You nodded as your other hand went to his shoulder, sliding your fingers under the collar of his flannel and his t-shirt to press against his warm skin and you rested your head against his chest, your ear pressed right over the thump of his heart. 

The two of you continued to dance like that, though it was more of a sway. Then you pulled back, sliding your hand up to cup his cheek and he leaned into the contact for a moment before turning his head to press a kiss into your palm. You pulled him down and your lips met in the middle for a kiss. You hummed into his mouth as you parted your lips, letting your tongue poke out and slide along the seam of his lips, asking for entrance. He immediately complied, his tongue coming out to caress yours as you continued to kiss and sway in the light of the fire. 

When you pulled away, you laid your head back against his chest and closed your eyes. He continued to sway the two of you, until suddenly you were spinning around. “Getting cold on this side.” He explained before you even had the chance to ask. You nodded your head in agreement, your cheek brushing against the soft flannel. “Should I put more wood on?” He asked quietly. 

“Yeah.” You agreed, pulling away and moving to sit back down on the chair as he walked around the pit to the pile again. You watched as he hummed in thought before picking specific pieces and bringing them back over. “Those ones special?” You joked. 

“As a matter of fact, yes, they are.” He answered as he carefully reached in to arrange them around the current pieces that were mostly burnt up. “They’re the ones I think look the best.” He chuckled as he walked back over to sit down next to you, placing the blanket back over the both of you as you leaned into his space again. “Thanks for having a fire with me, baby.” He whispered. You reached out and grabbed the hand that wasn’t around your shoulders, holding it in both of yours. 

“Anytime.” You said quietly as you rubbed your thumb back and forth over the back of his hand. “After these ones are done, you ready to go inside?” You asked as your jaw stretched open in a yawn. 

“I suppose.” He answered, feigning exasperation. “Hey, look. It’s the little dipper. Or is that the big dipper?” He tilted his head as he let it fall back, looking up at the sky. 

You turned your head to look up, squinting as you searched for what it is he was looking at. “I think that’s the big dipper. The little dipper is over there.” You added, pointing in a different direction up at the sky. 

“Oh.” He nodded his head as he turned to look at what you were pointing at. “I can’t see it, but I will take your word for it.” You both continued to look up at the stars as the fire crackled in front of you. “I love seeing the stars from our backyard. Way better than living in the city.” 

“Agreed, husband. I’m happy we bought this place.” You smiled, closing your eyes as you turned your head back to face the fire, letting it warm up your skin. 

“Me too.” He said quietly, placing a kiss to your hair as you watched the fire continue to burn.

[salemoleander]

VERY interested in creator commentary for the 3rd life webweave (seriously one of the coolest things ive seen made in this fandom, its gorgeously edited AND very funny AND the quotes themselves are all knock-your-socks off material. That Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Line Holy Shit)

Okay so first off THANK YOU that's super kind! It's nerve-wracking posting graphic design that is reconstituted from other sources, bc I've seen it perceived as a 'lazy' or unskilled format, so this is really really encouraging to hear.

I am not a concise person, which is why this has taken so long! I realized as I was initially responding that I was trying to dive into three separate topics:

The actual process I follow, my tips + tricks on making web weaves

Analysis of my 3rd Life web weave

My philosophy towards web weaves and collage as an art form

Only one of those is the question you actually asked, so #2 is what I'll be talking about in this post! However, I am working on a video overview of the other topics, because I think they're worth exploring - I will obviously post that on this blog once it's done.

To avoid jumpscaring anyone with a wall of text, I've thrown my commentary under a readmore.

The one takeaway I'll mention before we dive in is if anyone has a character/narrative web weave request, please hit me up! I have so many I'm working on, having a next topic suggestion is super helpful to narrow things down.

General Creation Comments

I am At All Times collecting images, so it's only a matter of time until I make a webweave for a group/ concept/ person:

(My phone storage is Certainly being utilized. Also I will never be free of making these.)

It just so happened that my Third Life folder filled up fastest/ felt like it was in a good balance to work with, so that's what I started with!

I try to use a mix of text and images, and both serious and funny stuff. Even at its most serious the Life Series is also funny, and it's important to reflect that!

That said, if you compare the jokes I've picked in this piece vs the void falling web weave, you'll notice the jokes on this one trend sharper. The 'How to Detect Misery' and 'How to Tell if it's Over' memes (both from @thatsbelievable, who is a GREAT source of web weave content) are morbidly funny. Surviving horrific circumstances, preparing to suffer, unimaginable violence, eroticism and death, covered in blood - all of the jokes are violent.

As I go, I weed out posts that don't fit, or (mostly) prune text posts out. Too much text ruins the flow, and I LOVE words so I tend to have too much writing and not enough art.

3rd life had only a few things that didn't make the cut, bc I was fairly judicious as I added to that folder, but these were scrapped:

As I added the posts I knew I wanted and split them between panels, I naturally started seeing a 'flow' from early game biomes/bases and the more tender pairings, into violence + devotion, and then ending in.. something. I wasn't sure what I wanted the end to be yet.

I ran out of posts, and knew I needed Wayyy more images to offset the text, so I went looking through the Smithsonian's excellent collection of CC0-licensed art!

That's where I found the Perfect Image - that last picture of the red angel laid low. I knew immediately that it needed to be most of the final scene, with very little obscuring or distracting from it.

Okay, diving into specific panel analysis!

Panel One

It's the beginning, so everything is still fairly light - lots of brown and green tones.

The summary (imo) is that every faction in 3rd Life is in different stories!

Grian and Scar are playing cowboys, an old Western style narrative where they're beholden to each other, out to get the Bad Guys (even if objectively they're the ones being violent little instigators).

Flower Husbands are a greek fucking tragedy, Jimmy's sudden loss and Scott in mourning, trying to cause as much destruction as possible before the gods knock him down too.

Dogwarts are a middle English story of fealty and homosocial bonds and dying for honor.

And the Crastle is like. Shakespeare or Arthur Miller or Stoppard. They are in a theater, they are playing with all of the narratives. Too aware of the trajectory they're on, and entirely unable to stop it.

The images on the first page are the four primary pairings in 3rd Life - top left, in the background of the 'How to Detect Misery' meme, is the desert. The sudden punchline of that meme felt like a good starting point - a creeper-blast of a joke.

The pair to the right represent Scott and Jimmy. I liked the Impressionist and classic myth-inspired stylization. Also, the toga blended near-seamlessly into the desert hill so it looked almost like a wing, implying a tie to angels as well as foreshadowing Jimmy's death AND Scott's partnership with Grian/Scar.

Up in the top right-hand corner is a little Crastle, and the pair embracing on the right side of the page are Bdubs and Cleo. The red hair fit, but it was the old-fashioned clothing and sense of finality that I really liked.

On the left is Dogwarts - Ren and Martyn. I wanted an image that had a very different style, as they were opposed to desert duo + everyone else. I felt the sketchy ink stood out and elicited ideas of worn vellum paper. It felt like a sketch you'd discover sitting in a chest of a long-worn-down enchanting room.

There's a forest and a mostly-occluded castle in the background art on page one, also meant to represent Dogwarts. That forest bleeds into the next page, where the violence really begins.

Panel Two

We've started with a forest, but it's darker than the last one, and wilder.

Bursts of red stand out violently on the page.

'Fallen Angel' is a classic for emotionally fraught blorboposting! There are many, Many Mountain Goats songs that fit, but the way a-doctor-not-a-fangirl paired this line with this painting was striking to me. In particular, I like how 'getting revenge' was something that drove most of 3rd Life, even though Red Lives (come unhinged) were meant to be the driving force of violence. They weren't supposed to have bonds, they weren't supposed to have allies! But it's the bonds that drove the violence.

The 'I heart eroticism and death' cut-out plopped onto the collage was intended to feel like a kind of cheesy tourist stamp - 'I killed my friends in horrible death games and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' vibes.

The 'First off' comment feels like the illogical thought proces all of the doomed players (so, all of the players) were following - "if I just do well enough at murder, this will all be over."

The 'moments of grace' image is probably my most indulgent addition. I wanted a softer, quiet nod to the good parts, to the fun and the joy in between the violence. In particular, the dawn breaking on waves reminded me of the short span Grian and Scar spent tensely placing TNT under sand in the desert. I imagine silent cooperation and the sussuration of sand on sand, and quiet for just a few minutes.

'It's better to know how to let others unmask you and to endure the rule of the game' means: if you are too good, if you survive long enough, you will end up alone. This is about Bdubs and Cleo - kings of roleplay, of being a little overeager and dying for it and getting a mercifully quick ending. It is also about the cactus ring.

Panel Three

The centerpiece of this page is 'G-d's Idea', the beautiful abstract painting of a blood-soaked angel. It makes me insane every time I see it. Grim reaper in mourning kinda guy

I wanted to do something to tie more directly to the end, but didn't want to pull a disembodied-face-in-90s-grad-photo approach to add Scar. So I found a drawing that looked like the Monopoly Mountain build, and carefully added it onto one wing. I really really like this as an addition, it is probably my favorite combination in this post.

The Anne Carson quote is obvs in Minecraft font - I also split up the lines, so that the left and right side loosely create their own sentences/ideas. "There is a theory that watching other people is good for you" and "Unbearable stories may cleanse you of your darkness." I wish I had been more careful with the contrast on 'yourself all', but oh well, we can just call it being difficult to read an experiential facet of the poem.

"Do you want to go down to the pits of yourself all alone?" is a good fucking line, and manages to mirror both the commentary on us the viewers AND the experience of the creators AND the experience of the characters. We get to experience violence vicariously, the creators get to experience it with friends + in safety, and the characters (or character, I should say, just Grian left by the time you're reading this) are experiencing that low point totally alone.

Aside from the obvious fit, the Rosencrantz + Guildenstern lines stand in as a conversation between the viewers and the characters. The appraising description of kiling and dying beautifully makes way for a mournful interruption that no, fuck that, this isn't a game for us (with some obvious irony there).

Finally, I needed it to end funny; the whole thing is already more serious than it probably should've been. I like this joke because it's short, and it implies the aftermath in a comedic way. Picturing everyone spawning back into Hermitcraft, covered in blood, upset, but mostly with a profoundly awkward sense of 'well I fucked that one up. That got a bit more homoerotic than intended, and now every other shopping trip I have to make awkward eye contact with the person I mcMurdered."

Again, thank you so much for your ask and kind words! I'm looking forward to making a general guide video on web weaves one of these days :D

[nouearth]

“SOME ENCHANTED EVENINGS”

steve rogers x male reader.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓— headcanon [ 3.4k ] 〳 part two

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒—male reader〳domestic!au 〳mid-century!era 〳'roommates' 〳established relationship 〳 secret husband!steve 〳sexual content: top!steve, bottom!reader, love-making, rimming, breeding, praising, silencing.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— y'all, i keep getting distracted with these scenarios, i'm so sorry! everybody say thank you @atomicpaperbrat for making me dream about this headcanon!

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who reunited with you after demobilization, under less than ideal circumstances.

‣ Steve wanted to surprise you a few hours early.

‣ It was the hopeless romantic in him talking—dreaming—imagining you practically jumping into his arms after he unexpectedly arrived a few hours earlier than he had originally told you.

‣ If you were daring, you'd let your tears fall uncontrollably, sink down onto your knees like the tears had weight to them, and a spotlight would zero in on your complete elation.

‣ A round of applause the audience would have given you if you were an actor in one of those plays you'd taken him to before.

‣ That wouldn't be enough, Steve reconsidered.

‣ A kiss would do it. It would show you—how truly magnificent you were. Waiting for him for so long, writing back to him without delay, sending in snacks from the recently opened grocery store down the block—you constantly raved about their state-of-art coolers that made the air feel all-so perfectly breezy.

‣ "You won't believe it, Steve. Ma and I felt like the cucumbers themselves. We're going there as soon as you come home!"

‣ A kiss would also simply assure you that he was here now, and you wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. It would fend off any doubts about him that you'd have festering in the meantime he was away from home.

‣ If they ever returned, Steve was more than willing to find another way to completely dispel them.

‣ After all, he was a soldier—a man of honor.

‣ Instead, the door was left opened when Steve arrived at their apartment unit like you'd been expecting him.

‣ No room for surprises, huh?

‣ Even if it was a foil on his plan, that didn't mean that Steve was any less of excited. Seeing your backside made all sorts of palpitation rattle within him.

‣ He couldn't possibly imagine what it would feel like when he would come face-to-face with you.

‣ Death, most likely? A coma being the best case scenario.

‣ "Ma, you're not helping. You always said I should be taking care of myself more—no, don't come. Why?! Because you'd only try to take over! Really? Watch my tone? Coming from the woman who almost got arrested when—will you stay put? Steve and I will visit tomorrow. He'll probably be tired when I pick him up. If dinner turns out bad, then I'll get something at the deli and we can have a proper one at your pad. Hey, you do know that I'm your son... right?!"

‣ Steve was always charmed by the banter between the man that he loved and the woman that raised him to be the exact replica of her.

‣ Hearing your voice over your mother's and her voice over yours—she was clearly winning over the telephone—it was beginning to register just exactly how much he missed you.

‣ Missed this.

‣ From the living room, he'd been watching your backside for minutes now yet so much has happened within the time span. You were a busy bee for him.

‣ All four burners were on. One stove was warming up a cast iron pan, another had potatoes boiling in water, and the other two—

‣ Steve never got to peek what was in those two pots because his thoughts were punctuated with a throttling scream.

‣ Maybe there hadn't been a foil in his surprise after all.

‣ "Steve?! What in the world?! What?! I was supposed to—what?! Why are you?! Here?!" ‣ "That's certainly one way to greet a loved one."

‣ "No, no. I'm... just—you're here, Steve. Steve—"

‣ As frequent as Steve pictured the perfect reunion, nothing could ever come close to the feeling—the actual feeling—of your arms wrapping around his broad body, pulling him chest to chest.

‣ It'd been so long since he held someone like this. Someone like you. Someone he cherished.

‣ Steve's hands roamed over your back muscles, pleasantly foreign in his palms—he was instantly reminded when you wrote to him that you had been going on more runs to make up for his absence.

‣ No matter how much you complained about Steve's keen desire for you to join him on his runs before the crack of dawn, you still did it and roused sleep off one step at a time.

‣ That was what husbands did.

‣ It was a strange feeling, recognizing what was familiar—like your tendency to massage his nape whenever you went in for a hug or something as simple as your smile—and then having his reconciliation cut short when Steve noticed your hair styled in a different way that made you look sharper.

‣ Maybe it was a one-time, a new look for this special occasion, but it fit you well. Everything did.

‣ So beautiful, so pretty, so handsome. Steve brushed one hand over your temple and held you there, kissing you once on the lips after.

‣ No words could describe you perfectly. Steve could look through a bunch of thesauruses and glossaries all day, but it would further support his theory that your beauty was simply undefinable.

‣ If it was up to him, he'd create an entirely new set of glossaries that was curated based on your likeness.

‣ For now, he settled on sublime. Your beauty was sublime.

‣ Something outer-worldly that took every muscle and fiber holding his body and turned it into vapor to feed your beauty.

‣ You kissed him back, and he was solid again, returning back to reality.

‣ There would be no killing, only nurturing. You weren't like other gods—you were kind and generous, especially with Steve.

‣ Steve felt your heart race against his own, laughing into your lips at how dangerously oblivious you could be to your surroundings.

‣ "You truly didn't notice me? I was going to surprise you, but I thought you beat me to it."

‣ He inhaled the appetizing aroma of onion, garlic, and tomatoes wafting from your apron, and in midst, detected his favorite cologne on you. The base notes always smelled better on your skin.

‣ "Are you kidding? All I can see in my vision are onions, Steve. Tears! Cutting fifteen onions is a death sentence in itself..! Why did you have to like my mother's French Onion soup so much?"

‣ He sighed at how he missed those lips of yours, silently suffering to control himself from stilling the soft and supple moving pair. It was all overwhelming with so many wants and needs. What would be prioritized first?

‣ Your ramblings were ticklish on his mouth, and that reignited an irresistible impulse to kiss you, to properly kiss you.

‣ "The department of fresh vegetables would like for me to apologize on their behalf—preferably with my mouth. Would that appease you then, Mr. (M/N) Rogers?"

‣ He loved how your name sounded with his last name.

‣ "Appeasing means that I'm demanding for some type of compensation, Mr. Steve Rogers. Does it look like I'm demanding?"

‣ "No, but your lips seem like they're still recovering from the aftershocks from those terribly, malicious onions. Might I say... they look lonely, too?"

‣ "Hm... I guess—I wouldn't be opposed to being relieved of my multitude of troubles..."

‣ Holding your cheeks in between warm, calloused palms, Steve captured the last remnant of your breath and let the yearning—for your lips, for your presence—to seal and hold you shut, against him and over him, all within his strong arms.

‣ It all felt natural. His body responded to yours like he had never left. Memories came flooding back in guidance where to hold you, cherish you with every touch he could remember.

‣ Your lower back. You liked being held there, and so Steve does. You liked it when he fluttered his lashes against your nose too—it sent you into a fit of laughter no matter what mood you were in—and so he does after breaking the kiss.

‣ "Well, I thank you for your service."

‣ Laughing when you laughed, smiling when you smiled.

‣ You arched forward, impossibly closer to Steve's body—satisfied, triumphant as your handsome solider returned back in one piece, safe and sound.

‣ One hand of yours curiously surveyed his body—much more muscular than you had last remembered on the day of his drafting.

‣ "Feels good to be home?"

‣ "It feels... incredible."

𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐂𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who relished in all things quiet and loud on condition that you would be by his side at all times.

‣ More often than not, you and Steve were too exhausted from work to actually plan something for the weekend.

‣ However, if there was one thing that Steve cannot abide, it was doing stuff without you.

‣ "Hold that thought, fellas. I'll need to check with my hu—roommate—friend. He loves getting a drink or two, so..."

‣ It wasn't like you two were inseparable, but those years without you had been agonizing and Steve wanted to make the most of every moment.

‣ Regardless of whether he was having a blast catching up with Bucky and his friends, you were always on his mind.

‣ Drinking at the bar? Steve could hear you remind him to not give into peer pressure and drink however much he pleased.

‣ Though—like it was much difficult to stop in the first place, he was never fond of the taste of gin and Bucky knew that firsthand—buying him a round of cherry soda instead.

‣ You always made sure to thank Bucky by treating him to a couple of drinks yourself.

‣ Grabbing lunch with some co-workers? Steve made sure to buy an extra sandwich or two to take home for dinner. If you liked it, he'd mention the rest of the menu, and suggest what you'd ought to try next.

‣ "Darling, how about we have lunch there tomorrow? You'd be a real goner for the fries."

‣ "That's an incredibly profound proposition you're making there, Steve-o. Extra crispy and salty, straight from the fryer just like how I like 'em?"

‣ "All of that... and brace yourself—your favorite: cold ketchup on the side."

‣ "Steve-o... forget lunch. We're going now!"

‣ Wherever his mind wandered, Steve would always find his way back to you.

Secret Husband!Steve Rogers whose favorite pastime was filling the silence between you two with a vinyl record.

‣ Steve felt safest in his apartment.

‣ So, it was irrefutable to say that his ideal date was simply being at home with you.

‣ Calmly dancing to his favorite record by Jo Stafford, 'The Things We Did Last Summer'.

‣ The early morning hike / The rented tandem bike / The lunches that we used to pack / We never could explain / That sudden summer rain / The look we got when we got back

‣ There was no fear in holding your hands, no trepidation in wrapping his strong arms around your body or kissing you on the neck and lips, all while you held yourself against him and swayed.

‣ The leaves began to fade / Like promises we made / How could a love that seemed so right go wrong?

‣ "I never realized how melancholic the song is, Steve-o."

‣ "It's bittersweet, isn't it? Reflecting upon a love you thought was forever..."

‣ "Is that how you'll think about us for the foreseeable future? Something that was?"

‣ "Well, I can't promise you forever, because that's not nearly long enough. But I can promise that I want to walk with you to our eternal forever. Would you be willing to join me in my search?"

‣ "I'm willing—more than happy to join you, Steve."

‣ "Every step of the way? Even if you can't walk anymore?"

‣ "I'll crawl. If I can't crawl, you're strong enough to carry me the rest of the way. I trust you won't abandon me in purgatory."

‣ "I won't. I would never."

‣ You would follow him to any horizon, and Steve would do the same for you, regardless of what hindrances might lie ahead.

‣ In the end, it felt like home with one another.

‣ And home was the only place where you two could be yourselves.

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘.

Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who reveled in the deprivation of your peace of mind.

‣ Steve was always a gentleman.

‣ If you had anyone to boast to, that would be an asset of him you would plaster all over billboard signs if you could (or had the budget to, regardless).

‣ So, it was quite expected of Steve to take his time with you, preparing you for one of those nights.

‣ "Steve—honey, come on..."

‣ "I don't want to hurt you, daring. Be patient."

‣ Part of the reason why he took so long was because of how you acted.

‣ Under normal circumstances, you were already impatient as is—so, could you blame him for luxuriating in the sight of your hole desperately clenching for more of him? Whining into the bed as you slumped your chest forward, and taunted him with a wiggle of your ass?

‣ "Look at you. You know how beautiful you look right now? Opening yourself up for me? Being all keen for me?"

‣ Three fingers was what Steve used to stretch you open as you were knelt on the bed on all fours.

‣ One hand stroking your hard wet cock was what made you respond in slow rhythmic cadence.

‣ "I wouldn't know... how about you show me how much you enjoy my ass? Preferably with your impressive cock filling me up...

‣ "Language."

‣ Your body was beautiful—always had been—but exceptionally so as you writhed because of his fingers working inside of you.

‣ Swelled because of his hand fisting your cock.

‣ Sank because of his mouth laving your bloomed opening as a token of appreciation—for gracing Steve with your vulnerabilities.

‣ "You taste so good. I could eat your for breakfast. For Lunch. For dinner. I'd reckon I could make a better meal out of you, darling. I'd have my fill and be satisfied, all because of this sweet confection that's your body, (M/N)."

‣ "Steve—oh, right there—just like that... keep talking to me like that."

Secret Husband!Steve Rogers who sinned with another of his kind, who forced another being to sin with him and exulted him in sin.

‣ Steve was a gentleman, but that didn't mean the man never had any inclination to ravage you.

‣ Only with you—that he would indulge himself fervently like this.

‣ He liked sticking close to your body.

‣ All positions did it for him, but he heavily favored spooning you, pressing his muscular chest to your writhing backside, and withholding you from escaping him—hands by your hips, piling your cavity with a tremendous fill.

‣ No other position could provide Steve the gratification of making love to you like this.

‣ Hearing your disheveled pants, grunts, and moans altogether in his ear.

‣ Feeling you ardently grind back against him as if he wasn't already balls-deep, and losing your sense of rhythm in the process.

‣ Sucking on a patch on your neck and tasting the salt of your skin, of the sweat that Steve and you had collectively harvested together like they were an open orchard.

‣ It all nurtured his pride, feeding into his strength and into the praises you'd graciously honor him as the pleasure of his cock pounding inside of you bellowed.

‣ "Your cock feels so good inside of me, Steve—you feel so good inside of me. Reconstructing my insides with your thick shaft, renewing my body with your mouth, your hands—r-reclaiming my body with your love. God, I'm in love with you. You fuck me so incredibly well."

‣ Your ramblings again, something he'd gotten used to, something he was absolutely smitten with—but this was on another level.

‣ Regarding profanity, Steve made an exception for these occasions.

‣ Fiery, passionate, delirious. Your mind and body was on fire, and Steve was the furnace, pummeling harder, faster—igniting your combustion.

‣ "I'm in love with you."

‣ Steve kissed you with all his might, drowned you in his love, all sorts of emotions beguiling your body to work into overdrive, your mouth to empty a vault of pure contentment.

‣ "Shh, shh. Walls are thin..."

‣ It happened more often than Steve could count—where your uncontrollable moans resounded through the apartment.

‣ You woke the elderly woman next door once and unsurprisingly quelled the woman's worries with your kindness, as lazy as your attempt at lying was, "Must've been the... the wind! Y-you know it is these days... It's been storming quite frequently. Want me to come over and check for any leaks, ma'am? It wouldn't be a bother at all."

‣ As much as he loved hearing you—Steve couldn't take the embarrassment, nor the increasing suspicion on who exactly were the tenants in Room 304.

‣ The better solution would've been to ease his thrusts, slow the pace his hips while making sure you felt every inch—every vein—of his cock throbbing inside of your body.

‣ But this was equally as enthralling—his hand champed shut over your mouth, squeezing at the lower half of your face in a ferocious trial to muffle your pleading moans.

‣ Harder—pounding and filling you amply while his hand restricted you the outlet of your emotions.

‣ "Mfggh, S-Steve!"

‣ "Shh... quiet, You'll wake up the neighbors like you did last time, remember?

‣ "M-mm-mmf—"

‣ Steve got off to this, it was his indulgence—merciless as he was unrelenting in delivering you the utmost pleasure, in submerging himself deep inside of you until you simply came hands-free from the nth time Steve's cock hit that sweet spot of yours.

‣ Your warnings were inaudible, but that didn't mean you didn't at least try. You licked his palm, bit into the thick part of his hand, and he only held you tighter—and that really set you off.

‣ You choked on your own moans, the credence vibrating in Steve's wet palm, and your cock suddenly spurted thick shots of cum.

‣ Steve's spading cock drew every rope out of you, into the air, and onto your stomach and chest.

‣ You turned the mess of your body into a beautiful disaster, and Steve couldn't fathom how he could restrain himself any longer.

‣ "Oh, christ—(M/N)..."

‣ You breathed a deep relief when Steve released your mouth in favor of painting your body with your own cum.

‣ His hand smeared the pool of semen over your stomach, and then upwards to your chest, rubbing the evidence of the love you had for him into your body.

‣ Into his mouth when Steve sucked his fingers to taste—to savor.

‣ And finally into yours, where you eagerly cleansed him off, finger by finger.

‣ Steve watched close, panting and marveling over how pretty your lips looked sucking his fingers, and that was enough for him to erupt inside of your body.

‣ Warmth, you felt his cum flooding inside of you like lava as Steve buried his deep and guttural moans into your neck.

‣ "Feel so full, Steve..."

‣ "Don't let it leak. Squeeze around me..."

‣ You felt the tremors of his body—of his voice—when he resumed his thrusts, albeit slower and much more languid this time around, and milked himself inside of your painted, clenched walls.

‣ "O-oh, I'm so deep inside of you, Darling. Hold me. Hold my loving cock and never let go."

‣ Obscene sounds of Steve's cock creaming you from the inside and out made your sensitive cock jolt, even as you felt him softening within you.

‣ Slowly but surely, Steve's body finally registered with his ultimate high, and exhaustion hit him like a train alongside the melt of your muscles against his.

‣ You exulted in Steve's orgasm, while Steve did the same with yours.

‣ His hands cradled your sensitive cock, tenderly massaging while the other smoothed over your chest.

‣ You turned to watch him in between recovering breaths, delightfully triumphant despite the risk of being with someone like Steve—a complete sin.

‣ Breathing as two, bonding as one.

‣ "I won't let go."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[raymondvelez]

Declarations

Michelle is one of those girls who’s always looking for the next best thing. Whatever situation she sees herself in, good or bad, there’s always a way she can improve upon it. Got a great job with flexible hours and a generous retirement plan that matches up to 6% of your contribution? There just has to be another one that offers the same plan but pays more annually with more vacation time. Spot a parking space in a crowded parking lot on a Sunday that’s easy to pull right in? There just gotta be one that’s closer to the store and the shopping carts. Got a boyfriend that takes initiative and plans out the entire date night? Why can’t Los Cruz find a restaurant with a five-star review and a rooftop overseeing the Chicago skyline? 

So when my relationship with my girlfriend started to feel like we had hit a rough patch that started to feel stagnant and routine, I knew it was only a matter of time before Michelle would eventually try to explore her options. Afterall, having separate apartments is nice because it gives us time to miss each other, but we can’t start building equity until I sign for that condo in Lincoln Park I can’t afford on my own unless I get that job at that investment firm I’ve been interviewing for. So I better pass my series 7 exam because what woman in her thirties wants to date a man for longer than two years without any possibility of an engagement ring? Anything longer than that and I’m standing in the way of her future husband that God already has picked for her. 

That’s why when I heard the doorbell ring and I let Michelle into my apartment and she made her way straight for my bathroom to finish her makeup without kissing me, despite her already being thirty minutes late, I knew better than to not feel somewhat uneasy. Michelle may be a lot of things but tardy was not one of them. And her not greeting me with a kiss? She hadn’t done that since that one time she had to pee really bad and had to run straight for my bathroom in fear that she wouldn’t make it if she walked. But that was just the thing. She didn’t have to pee that bad. As a matter of fact, when I didn’t hear her slam the bathroom door shut, I pretended to need to get something to drink from the fridge so I would have an excuse to pass by a bathroom that was occupied by a distracted Michelle fixing her eyelashes. Michelle is one of those glamour girls who take pride in their social media like appearance, so her fixating on such detail wasn’t unusual. But her closing the bathroom door when I passed by again and saw her texting while smiling was. I heard her put the toilet seat down, but I think it was all for show because I never heard the toilet flush, or the faucet come on for her to wash her hands. There wasn’t a chance in hell that Michelle peed and forgot to wash her hands. That’s just not who she is. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and Michelle was convinced that she had fallen from the sky and that her wings would be returned to her the moment her wedding bells finally rang. 

I was already dressed and ready to go to dinner, so I had nothing else to do except sit in the sala and wait. But the longer it took for Michelle to come out of the bathroom, the more I wanted to get out of my dress shoes and put my basketball shorts back on. Because it wasn’t likely we’d make it to our reservation in time and I knew better than to rush perfection. Normally when I waited for Michelle to put the finishing touches on her eyeliner, I just watched ESPN and had another glass of wine while occasionally standing in the doorway of the bathroom to watch her apply her lipstick. I always appreciated having a beautiful girlfriend take additional time to look her best for me. I really did. But for the first time in our two year and five-month relationship, I got the impression that Michelle wasn’t nearly as concerned about my attention as she typically was. In fact, the more I thought about it the more I began to recall additional changes in Michelle’s habits recently. For instance, Michelle and I tend to go to each other’s apartments at least once a week and we’ll cook together. She has this old cookbook her grandma gave her that has all these southern recipes that she really loves using. I look forward to this weekly because not only are all the recipes great, but it gives me and Michelle a chance to grocery shop together and go on a scavenger hunt for everything required. I’ll push the shopping cart and just follow Michelle’s lead because I’ve learned very early in our relationship that Michelle knows what exactly what is needed when it comes to not only life, but in the kitchen as well. I’m not going to lie though. I love spending all types of time with my girl, so I really have nothing to complain about in that regard. We just be in the kitchen having a ball. I usually chop up the vegetables while my baby will handle the measuring cups and mixing bowls getting everything just right. But lately, that hasn’t been the case. In fact, I haven’t slept over her apartment in about a month now. And judging by how things have been going recently, I doubt she was spending the night at mine tonight. 

My iphone let off one of those calendar reminders concerning our dinner plans. That was my queue to walk over to the bathroom and see how much more time Michelle needed. 

“Babe, our reservation is in 10 minutes. Even if we leave now, we’re gonna be late.” I said through the door. 

Michelle opened the bathroom door so I could see that she was still working on her makeup. She didn’t didn’t even look in my direction. She just kept looking into the mirror as she reached for her lipstick. 

“That’s okay, babe. Can you just call and cancel it? I have a backup spot we can go to. I’m not that hungry anyway.” Michelle said. 

“What you mean you not that hungry? What you do? Scarf a grilled cheese sandwich while you was on the way?” I asked. 

“I mean I can eat. I’m just not starving.” 

“What’s the name of the backup spot you were talking about so I can reserve us a table.”

“They don’t take reservations. It’s a very chill spot.” Michelle said never taking her attention from the mirror. 

As Michelle applied her lipstick, my stomach began to turn. I had that feeling you get in your gut when you’re on a roller coaster and you underestimate how high the first drop actually is. Michelle’s hair was in what I think women describe as layers. Michelle styles her burnt orange colored hair in a variety of ways, but when it’s down and straightened the way she had it right now, it’s usually a special occasion or we’re meeting up with her friends. I couldn’t help but feel slighted. I couldn’t prove it, but I knew that she didn’t style her hair this way for me. We weren’t meeting up with her friends, and today was just another random Saturday night as far as I knew. 

I leaned against the doorway of the bathroom and just watched my girl stare into her reflection like I wasn’t there. It never occurred to me that Michelle was unhappy with me. Sure, there were things I could improve upon. Maybe I do read too much and focus heavily on things that don’t equate to advancing my banking career. But the truth was I made a comfortable living, the rent was always paid on time, and I liked being able to use my nights to write for the Chicago Reader. I currently had an internship with them, but it was non-paid, and they didn’t always publish my articles. In fact, they had only published one review I got to write because none of the staff writers wanted to go to a Dom Kennedy concert at the Metro. I was now certain that I had put off studying for my Series 7 exam for far too long. I realized that I wasn’t just trying to secure a promotion at an investment firm, I was now trying to sustain a relationship with who I was certain was my future wife. 

“Babe, I been doing really well at the firm so far. I forgot to tell you. I passed my SIE exam last Thursday.” I said. 

“That’s awesome baby.” Michelle replied while never taking the time to look my way. 

“Yeah. My market leader was also impressed with my cold calling. I closed 5 accounts for him last week. That’s a lot for someone who just started. I also been helping him increase his pipeline because the lead list I created was a majority of warm leads.” I explained. 

Michelle was now running her fingers through the flow of her hair like she was getting ready for prom. And I was beginning to feel like her prom date she really ain’t wanna go with, but she knew my parents would pay for our limo, so she said yes anyway. 

“Babe, are you mad at me?” I continued. 

“No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. Just wanted to make sure. I just want to make sure we good.” I explained. 

“Why wouldn’t we be good, Los?” 

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure, Babe.” 

I started to feel embarrassed. I know nobody else was around except Michelle and I, but still, I hate not always being sharp and on point. Here I was creating scenarios that couldn’t be further from my so-called girlfriend’s mind, and I was trying to convince her and myself that my insecurities were right. Even if Michelle was disappointed in me at some point, she was probably over it. And if she wasn’t, she wasn’t going to admit to it right now. 

“I love you, Babe.”

“I love you too, Los.” 

I didn’t know what else to say. Maybe my insecurities were just getting the best of me. I know Michelle loved me. I’m not the best man Michelle could have, but I’m certainly not the worst. So maybe I spent a lot of my time prioritizing my artistic endeavors over us, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t pivot to being the man she ultimately wanted me to be. I mean, I was literally right there. Afterall, I found an investment firm to hire me. I just needed a couple more licenses and a few profitable quarters and I’d be on my way to not only being able to afford quite an impressive engagement ring, but that condo in Lincoln Park as well. You see, the truth is, I’m actually quite the talented banker. I’ve just been a little distracted because I really love journalism and banker’s hours were super conducive to my growth as a writer. But I have to be honest with myself and understand that the life of a writer rarely ever pays the bills. I was fortunate enough to be able to not just make a living but live an affluent life in beautiful neighborhoods where the potholes get covered immediately, and Michelle and I could send our bi-racial children to a quality public school because the taxes are higher in gentrified neighborhoods. 

“Babe, you look beautiful.” I said. 

“Thank you, Papi.” 

Michelle really did look beautiful. I wasn’t just saying it. I just hadn’t told her in a while because I was so distracted from studying annuities and call options and writing reviews no one would read, that I allowed my girl to feel neglected. Her hair honestly was quite the sight. I’ve dated numerous women with absolute beautiful hair, but not like my girlfriend’s. Michelle’s hair is gorgeous. Running my fingers through my baby’s hair while we lay in bed and watch reruns of America’s Next Top Model because it’s my baby’s turn to pick our show, is one of my favorite pastimes. I loved her hair so much I even recalled myself going easy on the way I yanked it when I was giving her back shots because God forbid I damaged it in some way, I could never forgive myself. Not that our rough sex was actually so rough that I would actually damage her follicles, but more that when you subconsciously find something to be so precious, you find yourself being reserved when it comes to how to handle it. Maybe that’s where me and Michelle went wrong. I had gotten so accustomed to treating my girl like the delicate flower that I knew she actually was, that I had forgotten that no matter how sweet and sensitive a woman is, she still and will always need to be fucked like you hated her. I don’t mean you fuck your girl in a misogynistic way, that’s not cool at all. But girls do want to be fucked in the same fashion that a misogynist would fuck them without you acting and making them feel that you’re an actual misogynist. I know it sounds confusing, but trust me, the more you learn about women and their complexities, the more this description of a women’s sexual preferences will make sense. 

“So, did you ever decide if we’re still going to that work event for your job. I picked up my suit from the cleaners and already put my business cards in the inside pocket of my blazer.” I explained. 

“Umm, I haven’t decided yet.” Michelle said. 

“You sure? Could be fun. Last year the food and drinks were pretty good.” 

“I know. But I’m not sure if I want to stay with the company.”

“What? But you just interviewed for that one position.” I explained. 

“Yeah, and I didn’t get it. And I don’t want to stay a project manager for the rest of my life, Los.” 

“Babe, you’ve only been with the company for a year and a half. You’ll get other opportunities. Have you talked with your manager about how you can improve?”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’ll just update my resume, test the job market and see what’s out there.” Michelle expressed.

“I get it. But it is a good company, Babe. I would consider sticking it out. I can tell your manager likes you. And she seems like she’s doing what she can to develop you.” 

“She’s a hater. She clearly afraid I’m going to take her job. Fuck her.” 

“I mean that’s a possibility too. Only you can gauge her authenticity.” I said. 

I really felt that Michelle was in a great place in her career and that she had more reason than not to be supper excited about the possibilities of advancement. But maybe I was the last person on earth to help her realize that because it had become painfully obvious that she didn’t see me as ambitious as I actually was. I prioritized things that didn’t necessarily elevate me financially. Nobody cares about what you’re good at unless you can make money from it. And even though, ironically enough, I was good at something that could make money, Michelle would never unsee how okay I was with not making it, even though I was more than capable in the first place. In fact, I’m willing to bet that my recent influx of money actually made her angrier. No woman wants a Chanel bag from a man when he clearly could have gotten her one sooner and simply chose not to. Sure, she’s still going to take the bag. But it’s just in her best interest to make sure that she’s always in position to receive one. And if I was half the talented banker I saw myself to be, I would be able to understand these circumstances with no issue whatsoever. 

I walked back to the sala and just dropped myself on my couch not sure if I even wanted to go out anymore. Maybe I would stay home and let Michelle hang out with whoever it was she really wanted to hang out with. I preferred for it to be with me. But if it wasn’t, I was more than willing to accept that as well. 

[gigglealongshiney-shadow-watcher]

The Reunion

Shiney looked at her original timeline, it was waiting for her. She reached for her old body, and morphed it, twisting it to fit into her new form. She looked different, but Ella was home. Home for a little bit. Her siblings were all together right now, so it was the perfect time. She didn’t even know what age they’d be right now. 

Nervousness bubbled up in her chest. Her chest! She had her chest again, the same small chest she’d had all that time ago. She had hands and nails and skin and eyes and a body. Her body. Her old body. She couldn’t keep it forever but she could make herself look like this again. The ground was solid. There were shoes on her feet. Her socks were white and she had pants and her shirt was on her body again. 

She looked older now, and it was wonderful. 

She looked around the park for the rest of the Oriens, the familiar shades of green and the red and yellow equipment looked like a painting in a museum. The soft wind that blew on her skin was so distracting that she almost missed her sister’s hair. There she was, a full grown teenager. She’d cut her hair and dyed parts of it neon green. It was her! It was Hailey! “Hailey! Hailey it’s me!” 

A few feet away was- Quincy! Quincy it was him it was him and his beautiful face and his hair and his glasses- he had glasses now! He was all grown up! Her baby brothers and sister were all grown up! 

Hailey turned around and froze. Mother had given them back their memories of her for this short time. “Ella…?” 

Running, oh Ella could run! She could run and run and run and pull her baby sister into her arms and spin her around and reach for her brother and hug and cry. She had eyes that could cry again. 

Trent was her oldest younger sibling, and he caught sight of them from a picnic table with a little boy and another man. His husband and child. He’d cut his hair really short and styled it into a swoop. The look in his eyes was worth every last second of waiting. 

Quincy waved them over and turned to call for their parents as well. “Lucy! Lucy get over here! Mom! Dad! Over here you have to see this!” 

Lucy, her name was Lucy now. Lucy jumped over the table and ran straight to them, her family following behind in confusion. She threw herself right into the hug. Ella had 2 sisters now, two sisters and a brother. A sister with a child, and a life, and a house. 

“It’s you- it’s all of you! You’re alive!” Ella sobbed into her brother’s shoulder and sank to the ground, the wonderful solid dirt and grassy ground. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for not being able to save you the first time, but you’re ok! You’re alive oh God you’re alive!” God, she hadn’t called on him in a long time. Or, her. She didn’t actually know if heaven and hell were real. She hadn’t asked Mother about that. She didn’t want to know. 

Hailey basically tackled her and started crying. “I remember you! I do, I really do, where were you? What’s happening, why couldn’t we remember you?” 

Lucy followed suit and grabbed her shoulders. “I wasn’t always the oldest? God, what happened to you? You have to come home, you have to meet my husband, m-my kid! Ella, I have a kid now! His name is Thomas and he’s three years old and- and- I can’t believe it’s you.” She sounded so different now, it was better than Ella could’ve hoped for. 

Ella pulled her into a hug. “I missed you all more than you can possibly imagine. I’m going to give you everything you need to know, I promise. Just wait for a second. I need to do something for you. I need to see you and hold you and hear you. Oh life, oh life is the most beautiful thing in the universe! I’m never going back, I’ll never go back to what I was!” 

Her parents stumbled into the Orien pile and she was picked up and pulled around and it was the greatest thing. They were older now, and they were perfect. Thomas jumped in and she lifted her nephew, her NEPHEW, into the air and flew around a tree with him, her wings appearing as she went. She didn’t need them but it was for flare. Everyone gasped and she came back to them, Thomas screaming with toddler laughter and clapping like crazy. The wings were gone in an instant. Wendy looked on in awe. Her father took her hand and pressed a kiss to her cheek, crying right along with the rest of them. 

They talked and laughed and cried for a few minutes. Ella could feel her connection weakening. Time was running out. She sent everything they needed to know into their minds and watched their faces change. They were sad, they didn’t want to forget her again. But it was the only way to keep them alive, and to keep this timeline alive. “Listen. I’m going to give all of you, and as many generations I can down the line my protection. None of the other gods can hurt you, none of them can take you away. To them you will be practically invisible, and…hopefully you’ll be invisible to any of their followers. I know I won’t be able to see you, but I will never stop loving you. I’ll try to come back whenever possible. I will never abandon you. You have my blessing and my protection.” 

Reed took her hands and nodded solemnly. “I…Know that I haven’t had you for long, but I’m sorry I wasn’t able to raise you the way you’ve said I did. I am proud to have you as my daughter. That will never change.” 

Ella grew to the size of the swing-set and pulled all of them into a hug. “I know, and I’ll never forget you.” She let go and handed Thomas a doll. “This will protect you. As long as you have her, she will watch over you. Even if you lose her, she’ll always come back to you, and whoever you give her to. It’s magic. Just like me.” Thomas smiled and started to giggle as he waved the toy around. The most beautiful sound. 

Ella closed her eyes. “I love you. I love you so much, goodbye, goodbye and please live and love and be alive!” Her connection snapped and she was flung from Ella, watching her family freeze in place. They’d only remember a nice time at the park. For the Oriens, nothing special had happened at all. Thomas got that toy at the honey festival, and they spent the day enjoying the sunshine. Ella Orien no longer existed. It was too short a time but it was all she had. She’d keep it close to heart. She would make that time part of that heart.

Shiney floated outside the timeline again, watching her body disappear and once again be lost. She didn’t want to leave yet. So she formed a new body for herself, one that would look a little like Ella did, but…not Ella anymore. She pulled together a look to avoid attention. A medium sized woman in a casual gray shirt with some white stars and a red skirt with leggings. She was feeling red right now, happy but full of longing. Heck, she turned her hair reddish brown like Quincy’s hair, but more rusty red. She gave herself her old face, but…adjusted.

She appeared in the park again, but they were already gone. It was the afternoon now, and a Monday instead of a Saturday. The wind was gone. She opened her eyes and waited for the tears to stop dripping down her cheeks. It was colder, much colder. A pair of voices broke her internal silence, and she watched Tracy and Stan, the ones that propose to each other on a kayaking trip, and then fall in. They lose the ring, but they get married anyway. It was one of her favorite little stories to watch play out. Stan points at something and they laugh again. It’s alive.

Life goes on for everyone. Including her, and as she watched them the colors came back to her. She’d seen this park from every last angle, in every tree, at every time of day, and in every state of destruction. Yet, it was new, it was new because she could feel the tree beside her, and she could look up, with her actual head. 

There was something special about today…what was- Stan tripped over a stick and pitched sideways, landing in the grass just shy of a concrete ripped leg. Tracy almost dropped her water bottle and pulled him back up. It was cute. Shine shook her head, since she had a body now she couldn’t just stare at people. They’d actually be able to notice. Walking was strange again, but every step was a little boost in her mood, and a reminder that she hadn’t lost everything. She’d gained so much!

The streets were so much more real now that she could feel them. She reached out to touch a light pole. It was cold, and kinda sticky. Gross, and awesome! Shine glanced around and followed her feet wherever they felt like going. The walk was a distracted one full of noises, physical touching, and identifying people on sight along with a few things she liked or remembered about them. The smell of mediocre coffee was wonderful. She’d forgotten how nice it was to smell things. (Continuing here)

[tooweirdforyou]

How The OP Boys Say “I Love You” To Their S/O

How You Know He Loves You- idk man

A/N : enjoy.

includes » Ace, Sabo, Luffy, law, Sanji, Zoro, Marco, Rosinante, Kid, Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, Izo, Koby, Cavendish,

Summary : the boys’ own way of saying “I love you”, with their own words and ways. Or, how you know he loves you.

? Wait did I do this before? I don’t even know. also these aren’t GREAT, but they aren’t HORRIBLE. Yk? Honestly tho, some of these seem like they’re all over the place, which yes, they might be. UGH IT WAS SO HARD THO.

-

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy loves you like an adventure. Everything is new and always fun to try with him, and no matter what happens, you don’t ever regret it, because you’re doing it with him.

He’s persistent in staying with you everywhere, he wants to do everything with you. He tends to invite you ( by pulling your hand ) to do crazy things with him and away from the others so you’re alone.

He’s always showing off his skills and stupidity in order to make you laugh, because your smile is the best thing he’s ever seen and giggles are the beautiful sound he treasures.

His actions are genuine when he holds your hand and pulls you to his side all the time, with the warmest, loving grin.

Luffy always makes sure to remind you to never give up hope.

“Let’s go on an adventure together, [Name].”

-

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro loves you like you’re his one and only. No one has priority over you, ( except maybe Luffy ), and you will always be his, if you’ll let him.

Zoro is not a man of many words when it comes to his own emotions and feelings, so he shows it through his actions.

He always has an eye on you, so wherever you are is where he ‘sleeps’ so he can keep you close, his swords at his side to protect you from danger, ( but he knows you can handle yourself. )

Zoro is the perfect person to lend a comforting shoulder and ear. He will listen to every single one of your problems intently and if he can, will offer the best advice you’ll hear, even if it’s a bit harshly. However, whatever got you so down, Zoro will bring you back up.

Zoro is always reminding you that you are strong, no matter how tough things get.

“Oi, come take a nap with me. I could use a body pillow.”

-

Portgas D. Ace

Ace loves you like a gentleman, respecting boundaries, bowing to the elderly you pass by together and always ready to pick you up for your date at seven, bouquet of flowers in hand.

If Ace is good at anything, it’s knowing how to distract you with a good time. He knows the best way to bring a beautiful smile to your lips and can easily make sure to avoid the thoughts that brought you down in the first place.

He’ll share stories that will make you die of laughter or feel so wholesome that you literally melt at how sweet it is.

The few times he expresses and shares his insecurities to you, something he hides within him because he trusts you enough to do so. He loves your understanding and comfort for him.

Ace always reminds you that you’ll be okay, even at the worst times.

“You are the light of my life.”

-

Chief of Staff Sabo

Sabo loves you like a prince. He holds the door for you, takes your hand so you don’t fall, has the most charismatic smile on his face and is just so charming.

Sabo will remember the littlest things, the smallest details that you yourself don’t even know until he reminds you, and because of this, you are often gifted the most memorable and cherishing gifts, like the scarf you two bought for your perfect snowman, to the necklace you were staring a little too longingly at on display.

He’s always busy, but he doesn’t hesitate to drop whatever he has just for you. He will run through fire if it means you’ll stop crying or if you’ll be happy to see him. You are his lifeline, his soul, his love.

He may not know how to properly cheer you up like his brothers can, but he knows that he wants the best for you. If you need space, you got it. You need some tender loving cuddles and buckets of ice cream while watching Disney movies? Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?

Sabo reminds you that you deserve happiness and peace.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

-

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law loves you like you’re his savior, someone who’s always there during his time of need and insecurities, by his side when he needs you most.

He’s a little blunt and straightforward occasionally, but he’s honest somewhat. He won’t ever tell you his feelings until he deems it the right time, but you can tell he has feelings by the change in treatment.

He’ll keep you closer to him, making excuses by saying that he needs you to help him with the supply run, or that he needs your assistance with a particular menial task.

He’s awkward and shy about it at first but he cares and that’s all you need to know. Especially once you catch him during one of his weaker times, the anniversary of a particular someone rolling around, where he’s locked in his room. He needs you beside him, so please don’t leave him when he needs you.

Law reminds you that you are human, that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

“Just stay here with me.”

-

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji loves you like a god/goddess. He will treat you with the utmost respect and care and offers you everything you could possibly want or need, just say the word.

His genuine, endless daily compliments are given to you with pure love and passion, his daily refreshments and snacks to keep you energized and hydrated keeps an eye out for your health.

He makes sure you know the true meaning of flattery, chivalry and love, because that is all he can show you.

However, under that chivalrous exterior, is his calmer, understanding loving self, where he shows his true self and when he finally shares this side with you, where he holds his insecurities, it’s the true honor and love you can receive. And it’s even better, when you become the one who loves for him in return during this time.

Sanji reminds you that you deserve to be and are loved.

“You are my world, my everything.”

-

Marco The Phoenix

Marco loves you like a married couple who grew old together, still playing jokes and having fun to life’s fullest, no matter your age.

He’s constantly lecturing you for the smallest things repeatedly, since you always seem to forget. His lectures lack any annoyance or malice though, he’s just kind of done with you sometimes.

Nonetheless, he’s taking care of you more than you think, always the first one there whenever you need help. He’s always prepared for whatever you need so you don’t have to look for it and get worried.

He’s stern at times but he loves you more than you could ever know, often questioning himself whenever he’s beside you. He half-lidded eyes watching you with warmth and admiration because you always look so determined.

Marco always reminds you that you are free. To live life to its fullest and however you wish.

“Let me fly you to the moon.”

-

Donquixote Rosinante

Rosinante loves you like a husband, he treats you like his wife, either you or him welcoming each other home after being gone for so long and greeting each other with a loving kiss each time.

He knows just how tough things can be and as much as he tries to make things right, he knows how bad situations really are and no matter how much he wants to cry or get angry, he always holds a smile, in front of you. To assure you that things will be okay.

He gives the warmest hugs, and knows that, so whenever you’re angry or sad, or just randomly at times, Rosi envelops you into a large hug, waddling you back and forth a few times, you feel instant relief and content, which makes him smile.

His priority will always be you, even if he’s hundreds of thousands miles away, he will find his way back home to you. He surprises you with the littlest gifts; being flowers, jewelry, candles, or more.

Rosi will always remind you to smile, even during the hardest times.

“I will protect you.”

-

Eustass Kid

Kid loves you like a game, it’s unexpected, unpredictable of what will happen and it’s exciting and thrilling. For you both, one wrong move, and the other is gone for good, but perhaps, second chances/rematches are available.

He can be brash and a bit much, but Kid has high respect for anyone who actually makes it onto his crew and can actually tolerate him, you included.

He’s loud and wild but that only makes it part of the fun. With such a short fuse, as long as you play your cards right and pick your moments to bite back, it’s kind of fun knowing how dangerous it can be with a guy like Kid, and he also loves it equally, because your feistiness is attractive.

Being a bad bitch that doesn’t play by the rules is so incredibly attractive and Kid knows how to reward and punish so tread carefully. ;) however, he has his down moments and as annoying he can be, he does appreciate the effort you give if you try to comfort him. He’ll be harsh about it but eventually, he just wants you to be with him in the end.

Kid reminds you to rebel, take risks and enjoy the thrill of getting in dangerous situation every once in a while, breaking a few rules doesn’t hurt anybody. Most of the time.

“Don’t fucking ever leave me.. okay?”

-

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk loves you like you’re an empress, only the finest and highest quality for you, nothing else can compare.

Mihawk will buy you the most expensive dress that suits you, with an equally expensive matching jewelry to go with. Not to mention the heels, and, tch, how could he forget the roses you require? Despicable.

As much as he loves to show you off, he despises the stares of awe and admiration you receive whenever you go out, so his possessiveness takes over and he has an arm around your waist at all times, successfully showing you’re taken and to back off if they don’t wish to be cut into oblivion.

He trains you to handle yourself, obviously, you should know at least some basic skills. He’s not too hard on you but does push you to keep going until you truly wish to stop. It’s only because he’s worried that one day, he won’t be there and won’t be able to protect you.

Mihawk reminds you that you are a queen/king, a strong person who shall hold your ground and never back down from fear and show your bravery.

“Come here, mi amor.”

-

Red Haired Shanks

Shanks loves you like you’re his future. It’s an unknown journey, but he’s there for the ride and whatever may happen, he’s there staying and won’t be going anywhere, unless it’s with you.

The red head is a goofball, he drinks, parties and messes around but he is an incredible captain and genuine to a fault. So when he expresses kindness, it is purely from his heart and not out of manners.

He is extremely playful and yet when down to business, he is calm, collected, and cool. He knows just what to say in tough situations and great comforting advice, so he’s the one to go to when you’re feeling down. And as laid back as he is, disrespect to those he loves is the one shit he won’t take.

He’ll hold you close and with his signature grin, compliment you and tell you how much he appreciates you and as soon as someone lays a finger on you, his hand is on the hilt of the sword and he waits three seconds for an explanation before he cuts them down. No one messes with his beloved.

Shanks reminds you of loyalty. To always protect and care for those close to you, and keep that built up trust and bond you created with them.

“Trust me. I won’t let go of you.”

-

Charlotte Katakuri

Katakuri loves you like you’re glass, he’s careful, protective, cautious and treats you like you’re fragile, because he’s afraid of hurting you.

He’s larger than most, he’s aware of that, so he always takes the precautions to be aware of his surroundings, especially when you are around. He wants you safe and he will be devastated if he is the cause of your pain.

His large stature is a blessing to you though, because cuddling is so comfortable and comforting, it’s amazing. You can curl up and relax and just be at ease with him, because he’s so protective of you, even from his family members. He often keeps you away from Cracker and Perospero, in the slightest chance that they try to take you away from him.

He’ll be extremely heartbroken if Big Mom doesn’t approve of you, but his love for you is stronger, so he’ll keep it a secret if he has to but eventually, he’ll pray and wish for her blessing, asking the help of his siblings to convince her.

Katakuri reminds you of family, that even friends or crewmates are family and love you all the same.

“I will be here for you.”

-

Captain Koby

Koby loves you like a typical high school crush. He’s all shy and blushy, and evidently embarrassed when the pretty one at school is talking to him, ( that’s you. ).

He’s like the wallflower type, who tries to blend in but somehow, he sticks out in a way that lures you to him, like he’s hit the jackpot.

He is incredibly sweet, and his shyness is so adorable. You can’t help but coo whenever you see his red cheeks and soft smile of care he offers.

Always helps you with everything, will take the blame whenever you get in trouble, takes the suffering and pain when guys try to mess with you, and no matter how tough things get, he’s holding a brave face for you.

Koby reminds you of kindness, treat everyone with care and kindness, and it goes a long way.

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”

-

16th Division Commander Izo

Izo loves you like you’re a painting, he thinks you are true beauty, inside and out, you are a work of art, a true Mother Nature masterpiece born. One to be admired.

The type to be there. He’ll hold your hair while you vomit, rubbing soothing circles on your back while you cry, painting your nails while you complain about Ace, assure your perfection when you’re feeling insecure.

Best advice giver, holds no judgements at all. He’ll help with anything, because you need him. Romantic advice, friendship, sexual advice ;), he will help you any way he can.

He truly admires you, not because of your beauty, but your strength to be able to cry. Crying doesn’t mean weakness but rather, strength to be able to move forward even in the worst of times.

Izo reminds you that you are beautiful, no matter what anyone thinks or says.

“You are true beauty, my love.”

-

Cavendish Of The White Horse

Cavendish loves you like you’re a princess, and he is your handsome Prince Charming.

Every thing he does it like from a fairytale, if it involved a rather.. bit of a narcissistic Prince Charming. But he means well, because he still treats you like a real princess.

He gives you daily horseback rides, teaching you with his strong arms wrapped around yours and his black fancy hat on top of your head, as you two ride around and share laughs and memories.

And even through his big ego, he still makes sure to compliment you, tell you how proud he is of you and how much he truly admires you for your strong will and determination, because he really does love you. More than you know.

Cavendish reminds you that dreams can come true, sometimes it just takes a leap of faith and effort.

“I will treat you like the princess you are and deserve to be.”

-

A/N : 15 fucking people and having to think of different things while I’m distracted is so HARD. 😭 please tell me you enjoyed though ;-;

but did I do this already? God I can’t remember a thing, especially since I still haven’t updated my masterlists- and I’m terribly sorry if this really is all over the place ;-; also apologies if this is repetitive for some of them! It really is difficult yk ;-;