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hxxsxxngx · 1 month

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JAKE 심재윤 - LOVE FROM AFAR

MINORS DNI

Word Count : 3.9k

Genre : SMUT, ANGST

Content : bar fight, jealousy, toxic ex, mention on infidelity, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, praising, creampie, implied consumption of alcohol, sloppy make out….. let me know if i missed anything!

Preview : Once Jake finds out that his girl of interest is single, who knows what measures he is willing to take it to protect her?

Authors Note : Thank you to whoever requested this, I definitely had fun writing it!

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

You were having a great night catching up with your buddies Felix and Bangchan at the local pub. It had been too long since you all got together like the old days. As they joked and reminisced about the past, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having such caring friends in your life.

Suddenly, Felix's friend Jake arrived, pulling up a chair to join your booth. You vaguely remembered meeting the scruffy-yet-handsome guy with a warm smile once or twice before at other hangouts. He seemed nice enough, if not a little quieter and awkward around you specifically.

As the four of you continued swapping stories and laughing over fresh rounds, something about Jake's furtive glances and blushing kept catching your eye. You couldn't deny the slightly giddy feeling it gave you to rendered this usually composed guy so flustered. He was pretty cute when he got all shy like that.

Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe you just felt emboldened by the positive energy. Whatever the reason, you decided to be a little flirty as you leaned in closer to Jake.

"So do you boys always get this rowdy, or am I just bringing out the wild side?" you teased with a wink.

Jake's eyes went wide as his cheeks flushed an even darker crimson. He seemed to be struggling to formulate a response as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um...w-well, I uh, we don't want to...you know, shock you or anything--"

He was saved by the interruption of your phone ringing. Flashing an apologetic smile, you excused yourself from the booth to take the call. It was your boyfriend wanting to know if you were free later to come over and watch a movie.

"Yeah babe, I'll be there in a couple hours!" you replied affectionately before rejoining the group.

If you had turned back around just a few seconds sooner, you might have caught the way Jake's expression fell when he overheard you refer to your boyfriend. He shrunk back into himself, the brief moment of bravery evaporating.

Over the ensuing months, you noticed Jake never acted quite the same way again when you were around. He was polite and friendly, but also seemed to keep a distance, like he was afraid to let himself get too close. You figured he just wasn't someone who enjoyed casual flirting even in jest. Either way, it didn't really matter since you were happily taken anyway.

Until one day...you weren't anymore. Just like that, a two-year relationship came crashing down after you discovered your boyfriend's unfaithfulness. You were blindsided and devastated.

As you nursed your broken heart, Felix and Bangchan were there every step of the way, rallying around you with movie nights, distraction activities, and a steadfast supportive presence. True friends when you needed them most.

One evening a couple months later, you arrived at a dimly lit bar where the three of you normally met up. You were finally feeling like your old self again after weeks of sadness and anger. Ready to just be around your friends and enjoy a fun night out.

The moment you walked through the door, you heard a familiar voice call out from a booth off to the side.

"Hey! Over here!"

It was Jake, looking as handsome as you remembered even under the low lighting. He had stood up from the booth and was waving you over with a warm smile.

You couldn't help but feel a small flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. Despite the slight awkwardness that encounter at the pub, you always thought Jake seemed like a good guy deep down. And if he was here hanging out with Felix and Bangchan...maybe you could finally get to know him better without that weird tension.

As you reached the booth, exchanging greetings and hello hugs, you noticed Jake's arms linger around you perhaps a beat longer than necessary. And this time when he looked into your eyes, there wasn't a hint of shyness or restraint behind them.

"It's really great to see you out and about again," he murmured once you were all seated. "You're, uh...you're looking as beautiful as ever."

You felt your face warm at the sincere compliment, an unfamiliar bout of flustered energy starting to buzz within you. What was this all of a sudden?

"Uh thanks, Jake...you're not looking too bad yourself," you managed to reply, unable to stop yourself from chewing your lower lip nervously.

Felix and Bangchan traded looks like they were watching a private tennis match, wondering just how heated this newly charged atmosphere might get.

Before things could get too tense though, Felix cleared his throat and changed the subject, regaling you all with a story about a hilarious screw-up at his job earlier that week. You forced yourself to shift your gaze off Jake's intense stare and laugh along with the others.

By the end of the night, you almost felt...disappointed? Like there was some

elephant in the room you wished would address itself directly instead of all this subtext. You brushed it off as emotional vulnerability from your recent breakup making you read into things.

The weeks after, however, proved those suspicions false. Because every interaction, every hangout, every moment with the four of you together continued carrying the same electrifying undercurrent of tension, especially between you and Jake.

The way his warm eyes would linger on you when you laughed, the random innocent touches and grazed caresses that made your skin tingle, the undisguised admiration and want in his gaze when you caught him staring...it was all quickly becoming impossible to ignore or chalk up to simple friendliness.

You couldn't lie, you felt it too - that persistent, gnawing pull toward Jake growing stronger with each encounter. There was just something magnetic about his presence, his humor, his gentle teasing and care for your emotional wellbeing.

But you were still terrified of being vulnerable and opening yourself up again so soon after being burned. Especially to someone like Jake, who clearly had some very intense feelings starting to develop, if they weren't already there to begin with.

That fear reached a fever pitch one evening when the four of you were gathered at Felix's place before heading out. You had just finished getting ready in the bathroom when Jake poked his head in to ask if you needed any help with your hair or makeup.

"Sure, I could use another set of hands back here if you don't mind," you replied absentmindedly, turning away from the mirror to grab a comb.

The next thing you felt were Jake's strong hands gently gathering your hair as he positioned himself directly behind you. His broad chest was nearly pressed against your back, the warmth radiating off him in tantalizing waves.

"Here, let me..." he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone so close to your ear. You caught the intense look in his eyes through the mirror as his fingers deftly began running and separating through your locks.

Every brush of his knuckles against the nape of your neck made your heart skip a beat. The soft, even breaths puffing against your skin raised delicious goosebumps along your arms. And the smoldering, hooded gaze he was burning into you through the mirror reflection was quickly dampening your panties with arousal.

You were both entirely under each other's spells, the thick sexual tension swirling through the small bathroom like an intoxicating fog. All Jake would have to do is turn your chin and slant his lips over yours and you would have melted into a helpless puddle against him.

The trance was finally broken by a muffled shout from the other room of Felix yelling "You two good back there?"

As if getting doused with a bucket of cold water, you and Jake sprung apart, awkwardness and uncertainty crashing back in. You muttered a quick thanks before rushing out of the bathroom, flustered and needing to put some distance between the two of you before you did something reckless.

After tiptoeing around each other for a couple more weeks, you finally broke down one night and asked Felix what the deal was with Jake. Why he was giving you such intense, loaded vibes lately despite having barely interacted before.

Felix let out a long sigh before breaking the truth - Jake had been harboring a massive secret crush on you for years, long before you started dating your now-ex even. But he never acted on it or admitted those feelings because you were already in a committed relationship by the time you met him.

Now that you were newly single, however, all those long-simmering emotions and attractions were bubbling out from Jake at full force. He was struggling with wanting to pursue you, but also not wanting to make you uncomfortable or disrespect any boundaries while you were fresh out of your heartbreak.

You were stunned speechless, your mind swirling as you processed this information. All those small nuanced moments between you and Jake over the past couple of months finally clicked into place. How had you not seen it sooner?

More importantly...what did you want to do about it now? The thought of exploring those sparks between you and Jake made your heart race. But you were also still so freshly vulnerable from being crushed by betrayal and heartache. Could you really take that leap again so soon?

~~~~~

In the weeks that followed after Felix filled you in about Jake's long-standing romantic feelings, you couldn't stop mulling it over. Every time you saw Jake's warm smile or got pulled into his magnetic presence, your mind raced with the possibilities.

There was no denying the potent chemistry and tension that had been building between you two. Even before you knew about Jake's crush, you felt that persistent pull towards him, that fire simmering with every loaded gaze or innocent touch.

Now that you had context for what was truly driving that intensity from his end...it felt like the coals had been stoked into an inferno. You couldn't get Jake off your mind, couldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to finally act on those sparks.

The more you allowed yourself to lean into the fantasy, the more you realized you were falling for him too. Despite the all-too-fresh sting of betrayal, Jake's caring presence and unguarded desire for you were quickly healing those wounds.

Of course, you had reservations about opening yourself up again so soon. But Jake was clearly different - his intentions pure, his affections transparent. Maybe taking that terrifying leap would be worth it after all.

One night, after spending an evening together that had your skin tingling from lingering caresses and eye contact, you finally summoned the courage to go for it. As he walked you to your car, you spun around, grasped the front of his shirt, and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Jake instantly melted into you with a rumbling groan, his strong hands grasping at your waist to pull you flush against him. You lost yourselves in that fervent clash of lips and roaming touches, all those months of unresolved tension pouring out.

When you finally parted, cheeks flushed and chests heaving, the depths of Jake's gaze sparked with pure reverence and awestruck lust. No words were needed as you gazed at each other's swollen lips and tousled hair - you both knew everything had irreversibly changed in the most overwhelming way.

From that moment on, you and Jake were inseparable. You went from months of "what ifs" to not being able to keep your hands off each other. The slightest brush or heated look was enough to have you desperate to jump his bones at any opportunity.

For Jake, it was like a dream come true after pining from afar for so long. Finally being able to worship every perfect inch of you, to tangle his body with yours, to drink in your breathy moans and whimpers...he never wanted this haze to end.

You were both entirely drunk on each other, drowning in the depths of your smoldering passion. Any lingering fears or heartache you had were washed away by the passionate intensity Jake craved you with, how eternal his devotion felt.

Of course, such a whirlwind romance wasn't without ruffling some feathers. About two months into your torrid new relationship, you crossed paths with your ex at a local bar while out with friends.

"Well, well..." the snide voice called out as soon as they spotted you. "If it isn't my favorite dumped loser found someone newer, dumber, and even more desperate to settle for less."

You instinctively shrank back, feeling that old sense of shame and hurt bubble up despite Jake's arm protectively wrapped around you. But this time, you didn't have to face that menace alone.

Jake immediately stepped forward, jaw clenched as he attempted to keep his fury in check. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here before I make you," he warned in a low, dangerous tone.

Your ex only scoffed, clearly finding amusement in watching Jake's anger boiling over. With a drunken saunter, they closed the gap between you, keeping their gaze locked on yours.

"Don't forget, I know you better than this sad rebound ever will," they taunted with a cruel smirk. "I know all the filthy little things that got you--"

Whatever nasty comment they hoped to sling next was cut off by Jake's hand violently shoving them backwards. Your ex's dumbfounded shock soon dissolved into equal rage as they came charging back at Jake, grabbing him by the collar as the two began exchanging shoves.

"Hey, hey! Break it up!" your other friends tried jumping in to separate the heated tussle, but not before your ex landed a hard punch square on Jake's cheekbone.

That was the final straw. Like some primal switch being flipped, Jake totally snapped. With a feral growl, he tackled your ex to the ground, taking a few more solid hits as the two rolled around in furious punches and choke holds.

"Jake! Oh my god, stop!" you cried out in horror, watching helplessly.

It wasn't until a handful of bouncers finally broke through to pull them apart that the violence ceased. Jake was dragged out back by a couple of the burly guards, clothes disheveled and sporting a split lip while the other patrons sneered at your ex being dragged out as well.

Your heart was still racing from the adrenaline and shock as you rushed out the back exit after Jake. He was leaning against the wall, chest heaving and knuckles bleeding from the brawl.

"Jake! Are you okay?" you rushed over, cradling his face to inspect the damage. He hissed at the contact against his wounded skin before melting into your touch with a heavy exhale.

Those stormy irises locked onto yours, slightly glazed but burning with pure longing and possession. "I'm so sorry, baby...I just..." he rasped, voice dripping with unrestrained desire. "I just couldn't stand the thought of that piece of shit being anywhere near you, talking to you that way..."

One of his hands slid up to tangle desperately in your hair while the other snaked around your lower back, pulling your hips flush against his hardening length. "You're mine now," he growled before capturing your mouth in a torrid, demanding kiss.

You opened for him with a heady whimper, the thrill of claiming this smoldering, dominant side of Jake setting your blood on fire. His tongue invaded greedily as he walked you backwards, pinning you against the wall with his body weighing deliciously against you.

~~~~~

Any care for location or being seen was abandoned as Jake's arousal ground shamelessly against your core, his big hands gripping and roaming with reckless possession. You gave back as good as you got - raking nails down his back, nipping at his full lips with moans muffled between heated clashes of tongue and teeth.

Just as the frenzied make-out was reaching a fever pitch, a loud clatter from behind the dumpster nearby caused you both to jump apart, chests heaving. Jake's eyes bored into yours, still glazed with lust but now mixed with frustration at the interruption.

"Get in the car," he rasped in a low rumble, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the parking lot. "We're going somewhere more private."

You eagerly followed, legs still wobbly from the dizzying heat coursing through you. The ride to Jake's apartment felt like an agonizing eternity with how badly you were both aching to crash together again. He kept one hand firmly planted on your thigh, thumb tracing maddening circles that had you squirming.

The second you crossed the threshold into his place, Jake pinned you against the door, claiming your lips in another heated, desperate clash. You melted into him as his talented fingers quickly divested you of your dress, palms roaming every newly exposed inch of skin.

You fumbled with his belt and jeans as he attacked the sensitive spots along your neck and collarbone with a trail of opened-mouth kisses. Each graze of his teeth and insistent suckle from those full lips had you whimpering in delirious need.

Somehow you managed to get Jake's pants undone, allowing his thick hardness to spring free as he kicked them off along with his shoes. You drank in a shuddering breath at the glorious sight of his arousal, already leaking with need for you.

Jake's heated gaze followed yours, a prideful smirk tugging at his swollen lips. "You like what you see, baby?" he rumbled, giving himself a slow, teasing stroke.

You bit your lip with a tiny nod, unable to tear your eyes away. That only made his cocky grin widen further as he leaned in close, beard tantalizingly scratching your jaw.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, make you remember that you belong only to me" he murmured, the deep timbre of his gravelly desire sending shivers straight to your core. "Let me worship every perfect inch of you, nice and slow..."

As if to emphasize his point, Jake trailed a series of torturously unhurried open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest again before dropping to his knees. His smoldering gaze remained locked on yours as his fingers hooked into your soaked underwear and slowly dragged them down your trembling legs.

You were bare before him now, glistening arousal fully exposed to his ravenous stare. Jake's hands roamed back up the smooth skin of your thighs, close to your throbbing center yet making no move to provide relief just yet.

"Such a gorgeous sight..." he husked in reverence. "All mine."

Unable to take any more teasing, you carded your fingers through his thick locks as his lips ghosted nearer to your pussy. "Please, Jake..." you mewled desperately.

That was all the encouragement he needed before diving in. You cried out at the first swipe of Jake's talented tongue, back arching against the door as waves of electric pleasure flooded through you...

He was relentless, sucking harder and deeper, plundering your wet folds until his tongue was completely coated with your slick essence. You gasped loudly with an intense wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and panting.

The rhythmic motion driving you insane until you suddenly broke down into violent, uncontrolled moans of ecstasy. It was over too soon though as Jake pulled away, sitting back on his heels with a self satisfied smile and dark eyes glittering.

He carefully took the wet, limp package in his large hand and gently stroked your slick slit. "You're gonna be so fucking ready for me tonight, sweetheart," he assured huskily. "Trust me. There's nothing you could possibly do that would turn me off."

And then he lowered himself over you, spreading the moisture around, filling you with such potent satisfaction that you almost screamed in bliss. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as Jake sank slowly and surely down until he could bury himself inside you easily. As he started slowly moving, you gripped his shoulders tightly with your thighs, your entire body tensing and relaxing under his weight. His hands tightened around your arms and shoulders to make sure you weren't trying to crawl away. He held still, letting your body adjust itself to his thickness until the feeling started to fade. As your legs relaxed, they found a more comfortable place to rest, and your stomach felt better about being full. After you got used to being filled up, he reached down to gently cup your tit in one large hand as he pressed himself even deeper, burying himself within you with one hard thrust. His long fingers caressed your soft skin, drawing groans from your lips with every flick of his finger.

With the most powerful thrusts, Jake filled you completely in one go, filling you entirely and filling every single space. For a moment it seemed like there wouldn't be enough room anymore in your womb; you'd never been so far gone before with anyone else, but Jake made that possible by holding you so close and filling you so much you couldn't get enough of each other.

You held tight to his muscular back, digging your heels into the mattress as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm, your walls clenching down on his rigid shaft with a fierce, hungry grip. He let out a feral growl of satisfaction as you writhed beneath him, grinding yourself against him faster and quicker, begging for release. Your whole body shook with pent up passion, the need to come crashing down on you like a tsunami.

With a sharp jerk, he suddenly stiffened underneath you, causing you to cry out. His breathing became labored as your pussy clenched around his girth with unrelenting intensity. You didn't think you'd ever seen his face contort in agony quite like that before. You both took a deep breath at the same time and released it in unison as he let you cum around his dick. His cock twitched inside of you, but you didn't want to break eye contact; he was still so intent on looking at you. Your hands reached up to run through his hair again, and he bent down to kiss you gently as you both enjoyed each other's company. Then it was over in an instant as he came with a deep grunt breaking the kiss, body shaking with the force of his release, painting his white masterpiece on your walls as he slumped forward, resting his forehead heavily against your naked belly with hot tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

“I will not let him bother you ever again”

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #enhypen x reader #heeseung #heeseung smut #jungwon #enhypen jungwon #kpop #stray kids #jay enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #enha #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfiction #jake sim smut #jake smut #jake sim

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gyuwoncheol · 5 months

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Cheol being literally offended when you sit on any seat that’s not his face lap he’s like ??? your designated throne is right here and you’re sitting on the couch? - ⚡️💖

TW: dirty talk, use of pet names, mentions of face sitting and fingering, no actual sex but VERY suggestive so you’ve been warned. 18+ only (MDNI).

Note: sorry this took a while, ⚡️ anon. But know that i love you dearly.

Note 2.0: a little drabble for you all as I try to navigate my busy schedule and get through my WIPs. These really help me keep my writing cap on so if you have thoughts about ang of the boys, send them right in 😉

“Where are you going?” Your boyfriend asks as your wrist gets caught on his large hand.

Cheol was looking up at you from where he was seated in the armchair on the far side of Seokmin’s huge living room. All the boys gathered together with their significant others to celebrate the end of their comeback season.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, “over there. There’s an empty spot beside Chan.” You should’ve known to just keep quiet instead because the angry pout that appeared on Seungcheol’s face was classic.

A simple tug on your wrist and the next thing you know, his strong arms were around your torso and you were seated on his lap.

“Stay here.”

You turned your head to the side, examining the disgusted look he was throwing Chan. “Why do you have to sit there huh? I’m literally right here.”

“It was an empty spot, Cheollie, calm down. I wasn’t really thinking much of it.”

A tighter grip squeezed on your waist and suddenly your boyfriend’s lips were inches from your ear, “Did you also not think much last night when you asked to sit on my face?”

“Seungcheol!” You reprimand him with a whisper, eyes bugging out in disbelief at his choice of words, yet all he did was smirk continuously, his signature eyebrow raise in full view.

“That’s not how you were calling me last night when I was making you cum, princess.”

You made an attempt to move out of Cheol’s hold, embarrassed at how he wasn’t even lowering his volume with your friends around, not that they could hear anyway with how loud Seungkwan and Seokmin were bickering.

“I said, stay.” His bone-chilling tone renders you immobile, shocks of electricity alighting your nerves.

“Don’t worry, princess, they can’t hear me,” he confirms, but it’s not at all reassuring when he moves your ass against his crotch. He repeats the motion several more times, his hardening cock feeling more and more prominent through his sweatpants and your skirt, “But they will hear you if you start whimpering louder.”

You stilled at his words, eyes shooting open and head snapping up from where you had let it fall against his shoulder. You didn’t even notice how you had let yourself slowly fall into a bubble of pleasure, soft quiet whines leaving your mouth in that short duration.

“Cheol, stop, please,” you beg as sternly as you could, stopping his hand from hiking up in between your legs. Though your little spot was a little on the far side of the room and the rest of the group had their backs on you, one look back from his members and they could tell their leader was attempting to finger you.

Seungcheol chuckles darkly at your request, his hot breath right on your ear, “Fine,” he finally agrees, not wanting to traumatize any of your friends, “but you’re staying here, listening to me as I tell you exactly how I’ll make you cum at least eight times tonight.”

#svthub #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol drabble #scoups drabble #svt smut #svt drabble #paula writes✨#paula writes smut #paula thots #answered asks #⚡️ anon

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simblr-question-of-the-day · 4 days

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Introduction

Hi! I'm an anonymous asker who sometimes sends fellow simmers questions. "Simblr Question of the Day" is something I saw going on around September '23 and I wanted to revive this "trend"! After a bit, some simmers suggested a SQOTD blog, to which I agreed and finally did it! I can broaden my asking horizons to blogs w/o anons now :)

I'm going to continue preserving my anonymity, but I'd like to share some basics about me ! ~

You can call me squat or squatty! A name I chose based on the way I pronounce "SQOTD," You can also call me SQOTD Anon! My timezone is ( PST ) - I like the colors yellow and pink/red, I've been playing the sims since I was 5 and I like to read and write :)

And below the cut will include a little rundown of how I will run this blog and navigation hashtags ~

- I want to start off by saying that while I do play TS4, I'm going to try and keep my SQOTDs all-sim-games-friendly, so if you play TS3, 2 or 1 and want to answer, go right ahead! Feel free to "translate" them for older games if you want to answer and it seems too "Sims-4-oriented" - Also! You can absolutely answer: 1. older SQOTDs 2. a SQOTD multiple times or 3. a SQOTD that isn't prompted by an ask while this is a ~daily questions blog~, you can also consider it a questions archive where you can pull any question out and answer it whenever and however many times you want to :) -I will queue a question once a day around 4am-5am PST, I will try to vary the type of questions (builds/renders/cas/sims/ocs). I also do around 3-4 tzrs per SQOTD. -I will also send a SQOTD to a random 5-10 Simblrs either around 4-5 AM or somewhere in the same day in my time (I forewarn this in the chance that I'm asleep around 4-5 AM) - and yes, I will make sure that it's different Simblrs everyday :) -Interact with these posts in anyway you prefer: reblog, reply or a separate post! (make sure to tag me ^^) -I'm going to attempt to reblog as many answers as possible, but I do want to avoid spamming dashes, so not always, but I will occasionally reblog ^o^ -I FULLY encourage YOU to continue sending asks with SQOTDs (crediting/tagging me is optional). I don't expect every simblr to know about this blog and SQOTD is intended to be a community thing, so while this blog will extend SQOTD reach, asks will spread even further -If you have your own SQOTD, you can send me an ask with your question and I will answer it prompting anyone of Simblr to answer it! -Since this isn't my main blog, I won't be following anyone back, but I will always check this blog at least twice or thrice a day and check my notifs and engage with the community as much as possible :)

Navigation

〘 Main Tags -

╭

| - SQOTD, Simblr question of the day, Squat's TXT.Files, Squat's reblogs, Community-contributed questions

╰

〘 Question Tags -

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| - Sim/OC Questions, Build Questions, Gameplay Questions, Render Questions, CAS Questions, Post/Simmer/Simblr Questions

╰

↳ I am very open to critique, suggestions and feedback, feel free to send me these messages via ask or DMs :)

#feels good getting this out! Thank you for the feedback and thank you for your SQOTD answers! I love reading them so much!#simblr question of the day #SQOTD #SQOTD anon #new simblr alert #navigation #introduction #simblr #ts4 #ts4 simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 simblr #the sims 4

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skyebounded · 1 year

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Empty Words.

Masterlist .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.

premise: There are some things you just can’t fix, and there are some words that mean absolutely nothing anymore.

pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

warnings: unedited work, swearing, angst, cheating? kinda? toxic relationship.

wc: 1.5K

a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY. anyway, I just wrote this in like an hour (hence the unedited-ness) but I hope you enjoy none the less. *casually shrugs*

SIDENOTE: THIS MAN IS SO DAMN FINE IT HURTS ME PHYSICALLY.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking! Really Theo, that's the best you could come up with? You're sorry!?”

The look of disappointment growing on your face as you ran your fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath, as you tried to calm your nerves. You couldn’t see a way out of this one, not this time, and thought it hurt you, tugged at you to finally admit it, you had too.

The look on his face, that small semblance of guilt and regret written over his features was almost enough to make you forget it, to just sweep it under the rug like he hadn’t screwed up, like he hadn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t.

He reached out for you, letting his hand fall short as he saw the way you shirked away from him, clearly not wanting him to touch you in the slightest. The truth was, you were afraid that if you let him, that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

“I fucked up, I know, baby please..” he pleaded, the smallest traces of nervousness laced in his tone. He looked almost as if he was shaking, truly afraid. He was just about ready to throw himself to his knees and beg you, but he kept his pride, bolstered up and secure.

“Fucked up? That's an understatement Theodore!” You had never used his full name before, knowing how much he hated to be called it. You could see the way it stunned him, rendering him speechless for the shortest period of time before his jaw tensed and his body went stiff. You could see his jaw quivering ever so slightly, like he was holding back either tears, or the urge to yell, which one? you didn’t know.

“Theo, your hand was down her skirt! Your tongue down her fucking throat! Thats what you call a fuck up?” You wanted to rage, hit him, express how hurt you really were. You felt like your heart had been crushed in his hands, turned to dust with a simple touch, and then the remnants of it were blown into your face, all at your lover's hand.

Despite everything you had heard about him, you had taken the chance, the risk, simply because you thought you were different, that he was different when he was with you, but he had proven to be exactly what everyone said. A cheater, a liar, nothing good, that's what he was. Nothing good. You felt so unbelievably stupid, falling for him. You could never seem to fully wrap your mind around why he chose you, and maybe this was why, because he could make a fool out of you, and by the time you realised it, it would all be too late. He had won you over with his charm, beautiful blue eyes, and handsome face, ignoring the warnings that you received, and it had all come back to bite you in the ass. You could feel the tears building in your eyes, prickling at the corners, but you were determined to keep them at bay. You wouldn’t let him see you cry, it would only prove your point. You glanced up to the stone ceiling, taking in a deep breath, fighting the way your bottom lip quivered.

He had stepped closer now, and you swore you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, he was scared, so scared to lose you, and yet he was the one who messed up. He was the one that had ruined everything you guys had built together. All those countless nights together, wrapped up-tangled in the sheets, all the times you had spent telling him your secrets that you swore you’d tell no one, and all the ones that he had told you, finally being able to let down his guard, all of it, wasted over a single moment. He couldn’t be angrier with himself, but he didn’t know how to tell you that, to make you see that he was so unbelievably sorry for all the pain he had caused you. Part of him felt like there was no real reason to tell you he was sorry, he felt as if it would only be salt in the wound, and he was right, that's all it felt like to you.

You couldn’t see how he could be so sorry, but yet he had still done it, you couldn’t fathom how that could outway the bad that he had done.

“Y/n… please…I know-I…I” he didn’t know anymore what to say to make it okay, to fix it. He knew that deep down there was nothing he could do, not anymore. Nothing he said or did would fix his mistake, and now he would have to live with the consequences. Throwing himself at your feet, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, clinging to you afraid that when he let go, you’d be gone. He didn’t know what to do. “Y/n I love you…and I am so so sorry.” he tried.

“No you don't! You don't love me, Theo, If you loved me you would have never! Could never! Thats not fucking love, that is nowhere near close!”

Tears had breached his own eyes, staining the fabric of your skirt as he buried his head into you. A single tear broke from your eye, trailing down your heated cheek, cascading over your chapped lips. You could taste the salt, that conformation. You were frozen, unable to remove him from you. You didn’t want him to let go. Your breath had become uneven, chest heaving as your heart raced, ached. He loved you? That's what he had said, and yet.. Holding your breath you pushed him away, desperate to break free from him, but he wouldn’t break from you, his grip only tightened.

“Theo, no..” you cried, “no you-you-Theo stop….please.” you squirmed in his grasp, panting as the tears broke from your eyes, trickling down your face. You clenched them still, hoping that it would stop them, but it only encourages them.

“I can’t…I can’t let you go, y/n…I won’t…please..” he begged.

He had finally left his pride at the door, here on his knees, begging you to forgive him, to overlook what he had done. The further he buried himself into your embrace, the harder it got to pull him away, to step away from him.

“Theo, let go!” there was something so firm, demanding about your voice, it was so final. For a brief moment his grip loosened, just enough for you to break from him, pushing yourself up against the door, palms flat against the wood, and the other clutching your abdomen. You took a deep breath, the tears still flowing freely from you, as you fought to catch the escaping air. Your cheeks were rosy, heated with embarrassment, pain even, your eyes still clenched shut. You were afraid to look at him, to see how he was affected by the whole thing.

He hadn’t moved, hadn’t stood up, he was paralysed to the spot. His eyes fixed on you, as his eyes became glossy. He was numb. He hadn’t realised it until just now, you were lost to him, gone mentally and physically from him. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours. No, he was yours, he’d always be yours, he thought, he would never stop…being yours.

The silence had become defining, holding you captive as you stayed glued to the door to his room. You couldn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to pull the door open and leave. Leaving meant it was completely over, all of it. And the truth of the matter was, it was over the moment you had seen it, the moment you had opened this forsaken door that you were now using as your sole support system. All of it had come crumbling down right before your eyes in a manner of seconds. A year's worth of ‘love’ ripped from you in a fleeting instant. Now, now it was time to accept it, to let it go, let him go. He didn’t even deserve that much, he deserved none of this, none of your patience, your willingness to listen to him tell you his poor excuse, not even the tears that you shed in his company. None of it. You had to do it.

You opened your eyes, the tears ceasing for what felt like a brave moment as you stared down at him. Your face is fixing into that numb state of emptiness. No emotion, no feeling whatsoever. Your jaw clenched, breathing steady, despite your heart clamouring out of your chest at the sight of him.

“And here I thought….you started, brushing your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you contemplated whether or not you wanted to hurt him just as much as he had done to you. “You know, you’re not even worth my words, Theodore. And to think I thought you cared…fuck you..We’re done.” You kept your voice as level as you could, doing your best to stay strong, as you reached for the doorknob, wrenching it open, stopping the moment you heard him stand up. Your body stilled, waiting, listening, but he did nothing…said nothing, not until you had forced yourself to step out of the room, flinging the door shut behind you.

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled, but you were already gone.

#Theodore Nott #theo nott angst #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott angst #angst #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #draco malfoy #theodore nott imagine #slytherin fanfiction #blaise zabini

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 27 days

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To Catch A Falling Star (Idia Shroud x Reader)

Inspired by a scene from Criminal Minds

Masterlist

Reader is intended to be female

If Idia had to describe you in one word it was unexpected.

He still remembers the day he met the magicless prefect who appeared out of nowhere in a fiery blaze of glory like some leveled up shounen protagonist about to fight the final boss, how Ortho had directed you into his room before he could stop him. And instead of being repulsed by the many, many posters, figurines and merch he had scattered around his room, you were in fact…elated?

“You’re an otaku as well?” you beamed at him, your starry-eyed gaze of awe rendering him speechless before he flinches as you yell, pumping your fists in the air, “Finally! A worthy opponent! Our battle will be legendary!”

Yeah, he does not have the energy to unpack that.

Anyway, he never expected you to appear in his world, and he never expected to find himself comfortable with you, his new gaming buddy and fellow animanga enthusiast. You never judge him for his tastes or his behaviour or less than ideal personality. You were someone he could genuinely call a friend andabsolutelynothingmoreOrthoIloveyoubutpleasebequiet.

And having you around a lot, both because of you just barging into his room or by Ortho’s multitude of invites, just felt natural, your chatter being something that he could call soothing. Which is how he found himself absolutely dominating his current multiplayer playthrough with you doing your own thing by his side.

After his team had won the game, he turned to you, ready to receive your subsequent praise, only to find that your attention was diverted towards a wooden toy thing, your face scrunched up in concentration as your fingers fiddled with its many vertices.

“What are you doing?” he asked and you paused your twiddling, looking up at him.

“Oh I got this star puzzle in Sam’s shop earlier. It reminded me a lot of this thing we have back in my world so I thought that I’d try it out,” you look back down and resume playing with it, “it’s practically impossible to figure out. You’ve got to put all of these pieces together to form a perfect star. It’s a bit of a headache really but it’s got a really sweet backstory.”

“So that thing’s got lore?” Idia raised his eyebrows and held out his hand. You gently toss it into his open palm.

“Well, you see it’s this romantic story where a young prince wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land, so he climbed up to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and caught a falling star for her. But, since he was so excited to give it to her, he dropped it and it smashed into all of these small pieces. So he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love to her and he succeeded and they lived happily ever after.”

“What a load of normie nonsense,” Idia scoffed.

“Excuse me?!”

“You can’t catch a falling star,” he deadpanned, “it would burn up in the atmosphere.”

“Really?” you ask, unimpressed, “you live in a world that has flying broomsticks and magic mirrors and plants that can yell loud enough to kill someone - I really don’t think you can argue about the concept of reality when there are children here who are capable of breaking the laws of physics on the regular.”

“But still, it’s stupid,” he grumbles, “why does catching a star make you a shoujo manga male lead.”

“It’s romantic,” you argue, “he loves her so much that he would do the impossible for her. Besides, the point is that it’s impossible to do because you have to take all of these pieces and fit them exactly into the shape of a -”

You trail off, dumbfounded, when Idia smugly presents to you the completed puzzle, a small brown star sitting idly in his hand.

“You were saying,” he smirked at your flabbergasted expression, preening slightly when it shifted to annoyed, “it doesn’t seem all that hard to me.”

“Why do you have to be like this,” you lamented, pouting as you grumbled about ‘high and mighty otakus who think they’re so cool just because they’ve beaten you in every one-v-one you’ve played’.

“Just take the L,” he said, not without a hint of condescension, as he turned back to his screen. Thankfully you were too busy wallowing to notice the magenta glowing along the edges of his hair. Why do you have to be so cute? You’re dangerous, you know.

Yeah, you’re a pretty unpredictable person. But that doesn’t mean that he can’t pull any epic gamer moves of his own.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #fem reader

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burningvelvet · 5 months

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Why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason Couldn't Get a Legal Separation; or, the Utter Madness of Marital Laws

So I saw a Jane Eyre post discussing why Mr. Rochester and Bertha Mason couldn't get a legal marital separation. I've thought a lot about this topic, and in order to procrastinate writing the final for my upper-level Brontë class, I've decided to write this sort of convoluted analysis instead. I know many others have written about this subject, but I wanted to explore a bit further on my own.

Preliminary context about me, the Brontës, their Byronic inspiration, etc.: I've learned a lot about 19th century British marriage laws recently in my classes on old British literature, as well as by having studied Byron, whose marital separation in 1816 was a notorious part of his history & also reverberated through 19c literature. He refers to this separation in many of his works, most famously in his notorious poem "Fare Thee Well." Harriet Beecher Stowe, the most famous American female writer at the time, was friends with Lady Byron and wrote a book defending her called "Lady Byron Vindicated: A history of the Byron controversy from its beginning in 1816 to the present time" (the original callout post).

Insanity accusations did factor in to Byron's separation. Many scholars have remarked how the Queens of Byronic Criticism, the Brontë sisters, took significant inspiration from their well-worn copy of Moore's biography Life of Byron when creating their works. The Brontës would have been very familiar with marriage laws not only due to their knowledge of Byron's trainwreck of a marriage, but also due to being well-educated women at the time who knew that marriage was the most important economic decision of one's life and could very well make or break a person. As a result, marriage plays a significant role in their novels.

More relevant preliminary context about the novel: Jane Eyre actually takes place in the Georgian era, despite most adaptations and anaysis presenting is as a Victorian piece due to the novels publication date (this drives me crazy; same goes for the other Brontë books). Marriage laws did not change drastically from the time the novel is set to the time Brontë was writing the novel, but things were a bit different socially. Rochester was also married 15 years before his attempt to marry Jane. According to this very good analysis, Rochester and Bertha probably married in or around the year 1793: https://jane-eyre.guidesite.co.uk/timeline.

Now, here are the reasons why Rochester couldn't separate from Bertha:

1) Insanity wasn't grounds for divorce/separation in the Regency era.

Rochester himself says that he couldn't legally separate from her because of her insanity, which presumably rendered any of her faults null on the grounds of that marital vow "in sickness and in health." This is possibly one of his biggest reasons:

"I was rich enough now – yet poor to hideous indigence: a nature the most gross, impure, depraved I ever saw, was associated with mine, and called by the law and by society a part of me. And I could not rid myself of it by any legal procedings: for the doctors now discovered that my wife was mad — her excesses had prematurely developed the germs of insanity [..]"

2) Divorce was nearly impossible anyway.

There had only been around 300 divorces in English history at the time. Almost all of them were husbands divorcing their wives for committing adultery. Only a handful of divorces had succesfully been obtained by women, and they were only in cases where the husband had committed incestuous adultery or bigamy, and was extremely physically cruel. So technically after his bigamy attempt, Bertha may have had more grounds to obtain a divorce than Rochester would have, if only she were lucid enough to do so. However, in that scenario infertility would have helped their case, and Adèle's existence would have harmed their case if he attempted to seek a divorce before marrying Jane. Though as the novel explains, Adèle is probably not his, she definitely would have been used against him, as would the fact that he kept Bertha's existence a secret in England. But he wouldn't have tried for divorce that late in the game anyway, considering it was one of the most difficult options.

3) Female adultery was your best bet at divorce or separation, and this probably wasn't applicable to Mr. & Mrs. Rochester.

Although some scholars claim that there is subtext hinting that Bertha was adulterous (which some adaptations, like the 2006, include), you needed substantial proof of the adultery, which Rochester may not have had if it did occur. Being a proud man, he also wouldn't have wanted to be humiliated in that way by letting it be publicly known (as shame is one of his main reasons for hiding their marriage to begin with).

However, I lean toward the idea that Bertha may not have committed adultery. If she definitively did, seeing how affected Rochester was by Céline cheating on him (he shot her lover in revenge and left her with a stipend), if he ever suspected adultery on Bertha's part then I'm sure he would have been at court the very next day. I also think Rochester tries not to be too much of a hypocrite, and he is well aware that he himself is an adulterer, so he probably doesn't want to accuse Bertha of a crime he's committed and which he couldn't definitively prove she did.

Rochester does talk about hating Bertha's "vices" when they lived together, citing drinking, arguing, cruelty to servants, cursing, her being "unchaste," a "harlot," etc. - the last epithets, combined with her supposed lack of morality, and her being described as seductive, heavily imply that adultery could be added to her list of offenses. However, if she did truly cheat on him as well, I don't see why he wouldn't plainly tell this to Jane as well. I would imagine it would be his first complaint, and it would probably be considered his most justifiable reason against her by their cultural standards.

I don't see why he wouldn't jump to take Bertha's infidelity as an opportunity to defend his own actions, considering how open he is with Jane about his own adultery and being cheated on by Cèline Varens. While I can see how some of the textual evidence may strongly suggest Bertha's adultery, we cannot be fully certain, and that may be because Rochester himself is not fully certain. I cannot see why he wouldn't have sought legal advice on that account alone.

In short, if Bertha was an adulterer, there must have been no evidence to convict her.

Also: while the double-standard may seem odd and trivial to us, the reason why female adultery held more weight than male adultery has entirely to due with old patriarchal inheritance laws; i.e the risk of a wife getting extramaritally pregnant and passing the illegitimate child off as her husband's heir was considered too great of an affront. A man could have as many bastards as he wanted because he would know they were bastards and were not at risk of inheriting his stuff. One needed legitimate heirs to justify passing on one's ancestral wealth to. Essentially, marriage was a mere economic tool, and the economy was and is inherently patriarchal. I digress.

4) Rochester's lack of social & economic leverage, and risk of social ruin in general.

Only the wealthiest of the wealthy could obtain divorce or official separation, and it often led to social ruin. Rochester is rich, but he has no title and no great network of supporters due to being a younger son and having been abroad for most of the past 15 years (this was the length of his marriage to Bertha, stated by Mr. Briggs during the bigamous wedding attempt). He doesn't have as much leverage as Lord and Lady Byron had.

To continue on official separation, like Lady and Lord Byron obtained. Just like divorce, this was also a messy and scandalous legal proceeding, and required numerous good reasons to obtain, and being well-connected Lords and Ladies really helped your case. You also needed many witnesses and written statements as evidence. Bertha's family, as we see with Mason, would have been unhelpful to Rochester, and due to his shame and secrecy, no one could really testify on his behalf I'm assuming.

5) Unofficial separation would have been inconvenient, especially in regards to living situations.

Aside from divorce, which was extremely rare, extremely controversial, and only for the wealthiest members of society — there were unofficial and official separations. An unofficial separation was simply living apart from one another. I've often wondered why Rochester didn't simply move Grace Poole and Bertha somewhere else, but my main theory is that it would have been cost ineffective, and due to his family who were implied to be shitty, he probably really didn't want to live at Thornfield anyway so thought it would be convenient to place her there. Rochester says it would be dangerous to place her in his other residence of Ferndean:

"[..] though I possess an old house, Ferndean Manor, even more retired and hidden than this, where I could have lodged her safely enough, had not a scruple about the unhealthiness of the situation, in the heart of a wood, made my conscience recoil from the arrangement. Probably those damp walls would soon have eased me of her charge: but to each villain his own vice; and mine is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate."

6) Annulment was likely impossible given their circumstances.

Annulment means evaporating the marriage, acting as if it never existed, that it was a mistake. This was rare and only granted in unique circumstances, and I believe it was more common with aristocracy and royals. I believe you could possibly get an annulment if you could prove that the spouse was insane at the time of the wedding and you did not know. However, Bertha did not begin to truly deteriorate until after they had been living together for a bit. And while Rochester says that he did not know her mother was in an asylum until after the wedding, having an insane mother doesn't mean that you are insane, which Bertha clearly wasn't at that point, at least not in a way that people would have publicly acknowledged, since Rochester says she attended parties and her hand was highly sought after.

Generally, the longer a marriage had gone on, the harder it was to prove why it could not go on. Rochester says that he and Bertha "lived together" for "four years" in Jamaica while her condition deteriorated and he tried to make things work. And again, after the wedding he found out her mother was "mad, and shut up in a lunatic asylum." So we have more reasons for Rochester's difficulty: the fear of Bertha going to an asylum while she was still mostly lucid in those first four years, combined with the fact that they openly lived together and certainly must have consummated their marriage (things which would further prevent annulment), and were certainly publicly recognized as a couple in Spanish Town society, and her family wanting the marriage to continue so she could have children of "good race" i.e. to produce heirs.

Here's an important passage that to me suggests that Rochester and Bertha not only had an initial flirtation but likely consummated their marriage, likely had a passionate sexual relationship for some time, and likely implies his feelings for her were more complex than we'd initially assume, making annulment not so clear-cut of an option to him at the time:

"My father said nothing about her money; but he told me Miss Mason was the boast of Spanish Town for her beauty: and this was no lie. I found her a fine woman, in the style of Blanche Ingram; tall, dark, and majestic. Her family wished to secure me because I was of a good race; and so did she. They showed her to me in parties, splendidly dressed. I seldom saw her alone, and had very little private conversation with her. She flattered me, and lavishly displayed for my pleasure her charms and accomplishments. All the men in her circle seemed to admire her and envy me. I was dazzled, stimulated: my senses were excited; and being ignorant, raw, and inexperienced, I thought I loved her. There is no folly so besotted that the idiotic rivalries of society, the prurience, the rashness, the blindness of youth, will not hurry a man to its commission. Her relatives encouraged me; competitors piqued me; she allured me: a marriage was achieved almost before I knew where I was. Oh, I have no respect for myself when I think of that act! — an agony of inward contempt masters me. I never loved, I never esteemed, I did not even know her."

7) Spousal abandonment wasn't possible, and on some level he honored his legal and financial obligations to her and the Mason family.

Bertha's family likely refused to house her for legal and personal reasons, and spousal abandonment was forbidden due to the husband's financial responsibility as well as the law of coverture (a wife became her husband's full legal responsibility; some say "property"). Like we see in Anne's Tenant of Wildfell Hall, if a woman ran away from their spouse they would have to live in obscurity and be at risk of being sussed out. You couldn't just abandon your partner. Still, people did, because it was the easiest route to take.

But the more upper-class you were, and the more financial entanglements you had, the more inconvenient this was. We know that Rochester and his family became enmeshed with the Mason family, and he got a lot of money from Bertha, so her father likely would have taken him to court. At any rate, Rochester was legally bound to bring Bertha with him to England when he left Jamaica. If he attempted to abandon her in Jamaica, the backlash it would have brought would have brought him social ruin and foiled his chances at getting away with any bigamy attempts.

All this brings us to a further notice of Bertha's family situation. Based on Charlotte Brontë's positive comments about Rochester's character (https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/731403104856195072/in-a-letter-to-w-s-williams-14-august-1848) I see no reason to suspect him, like many feminist critics do, of being an unreliable narrator or of lying about Bertha Mason's history. Everyone is entitled to their opinions, and in mine, that is simply not the novel Charlotte wrote. By her own admission, she wanted his narrative to be a path to further goodness.

It makes no narrative sense for our explanation of his and Bertha's history to be full of lies when he's trying to make ammends with Jane, who never suspects him of lying during his admission, but who does critique him and figure he'd tire of her like she was one of his many mistresses. Jane wonders if Rochester would lock her in an attic too, which he refutes on the basis that he loves her more than he loved Bertha when she was sane, and so he would care for Jane himself. Jane also tells him that it's not Bertha's fault that she's mad. So in my opinion, if Charlotte wanted us to believe Rochester was lying about his and Bertha's history to make himself look better or Bertha look worse, I don't see why she would have been vague about it, and I don't see why Jane wouldn't have called it out like she does everything else. I don't think Rochester is really a villain who locked his harmless wife in the attic for giggles; I think he weighed most of his options and found, like most people back then and even today, that keeping his problems locked up and ignored was the best solution.

Now, on with the point. I have often wondered why Rochester didn't simply "unofficially separate" from Bertha by leaving her with her family when he left. Why did he take her to England? Why didn't he just run away? It wasn't because he was an evil villain who wanted to keep her as a trophy. It's because 1) I don't think her father would have let him, as he was so quick to marry her off, 2) he felt obligated to her, and 3) it was criminal for men to abandon their wives, and it would have attracted publicity, which is what Rochester was avoiding by taking Bertha to England and sheltering her in secrecy.

Many claim that Rochester's adultery is a betrayal of his wife; and while religiously, narratively, socially, we can accept this statement, it was not legally a crime. While Rochester does honor his financial and legal obligations to his wife and her family, he does not take the religious part of the vows into account, and that's why he's cosmically punished and only rewarded after he repents, as he explains toward the end of the novel.

Another interesting point is that when Rochester recounts his decision to move back to England, he tells us that Bertha had already been declared insane in Jamaica and that she was already confined there (presumably around the 4 year anniversary before they left), meaning her father probably knew about confinement:

"One night I had been awakened by her yells (since the medical men had pronounced her mad, she had of course been shut up) — it was a fiery West Indian night; [..]"

Locking away "insane" people was standard procedure then, and if this was done with Bertha's father's knowledge, considering he locked his own wife away in an asylum, then this further absolves Rochester of a lot of the blame in my opinion. It more than likely wasn't his idea to lock her away, but the advice of "the medical men" and presumably her father's consultation as well.

8) Even if he divorced or separated from her, he couldn't remarry. Attempting these, or getting caught attempting abandonment, would have brought negative publicity that would have likely prevented the success of any future bigamy attempts. To him, secrecy and bigamy seemed better chances at securing happiness than the social ruin and likely failure the other options would have brought him.

Aside from Rochester's own explanation (which I supplied in #2 re: the separation veto inherent to Bertha's insanity), the other biggest reason as to why Rochester wouldn't seek a separation/divorce even if she hadn't been declared insane and even if he were willing to accuse her of adultery truthfully or not, is due to the fact that one could not legally remarry upon separation or divorce (unless you were Henry VIII and got God's permission lol). Rochester's impossible dream is that he wants to be married to someone he really loves, and if secrecy and bigamy are his only options then he is willing to succumb; this is shown in numerous passages:

"[..] I could reform — I have strength yet for that — if— but where is the use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I will get it, cost what it may."

"I will keep my word: I will break obstacles to happiness, to goodness — yes, goodness; I wish to be a better man than I have been; than I am — as Job's leviathan broke the spear, the dart, and the habergeon, hinderances which others count as iron and brass, I will esteem but straw and rotten wood."

"Is there not love in my heart, and constancy in my resolves? It will expiate at God's tribunal. I know my Maker sanctions what I do. For the world's judgment — I wash my hands thereof. For man's opinion — I defy it."

Closing remarks on the above's validity: I can't cite all my sources because a lot of this stuff I learned from lectures via my professor who specializes in 19th century English literature & history. But here's some recently published information from a historian, taken from "Inside the World of Bridgerton: True Stories of Regency High Society" by Catherine Curzon (2023):

"And if you were one of the newly-weds, you really did hope things would work out, because in the Regency till death do us part wasn't just an expression. As the Prince Regent himself had learned when he separated from his wife within eighteen months of their marriage, obtaining a divorce in Regency England was no easy matter. He never achieved it, and for those who did the stakes could be high and the cost ruinous in every sense."

"Until the passing of the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857, which legalized divorce in the civil courts, it was governed by the ecclesiastical courts, and the Church didn't end a marriage without very, very good reason. Even these divorces didn't allow a couple to remarry, though, and they were more akin to what we would today call a legal separation, with no shared legal or financial responsibilities going forward. It was freedom, but only to a point."

"The only way to obtain a complete dissolution that allowed for remarriage was to secure a parliamentary divorce, and these were notoriously difficult to obtain. They began with a criminal conversation case, because they relied on adultery by one of the parties to make them even a slight possibility. If a woman committed crim. con., her life in polite society was over."

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satosuguswife · 10 months

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HIS SISTER | PROLOGUE

━━━━━━━━━━

Series Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue

Pairing:

Poly!SatoSugu x Toji'sSister!OC

Summary:

A story about Tenka Zenin, the little sister of the man dubbed as the “Sorcerer Killer'' - Toji Fushiguro. Just like Toji, she is also blessed, or cursed based on how the Zenin clan sees it, with heavenly restriction.

Content:

Toji sibling fluff to angst, No SatoSugu yet, The Zenin clan being shit

Word Count:

2,059 words

A/n: feel free to request AUs for this through the asks :> if you want to be tagged for this story just leave a comment or ask

━━━━━━━━━━

Ten years after Toji Zenin was born, came a little girl. She was named Tenka - meaning heaven and flower. The clan hoped she would be better than her brother but to their disappointment, it was another failure. The Zenin clan all thought that except one - her brother. While the rest of the clan looked at her as another stain to their name, her brother saw otherwise.

At first, Toji just pitied the pile of flesh that was unfortunately born into the vile clan. But when he held her for the very first time, it was also the first time Tenka ever opened her eyes. Toji feared that she would cry the second she saw him but to his surprise, she giggled as she reached out her dainty little hands to him. It was at that moment that Toji saw her as his light.

Life was not kind to the two siblings as they suffered from the constant berating insults of their own clansmen and the disappointed stares of their parents. Although that did not matter as long as they had each other by their side. Unbeknownst to them, their time together would be cut short on his 14th birthday.

———

"Aniki!" The 4-year-old girl shouted as she ran into her brother's arms. "Look! I made you a flower crown made from the Azlea flowers that grew in the gardens for your birthday!" Tenka beamed at her older brother, proud of the gift she made him. Toji chuckled at his sister, grateful that she remembered his birthday. It wasn’t common for him to be noticed but that was one thing Tenka never failed to do; after all, they were each others’ world.

They walked through the clan grounds as Tenka babbled to Toji about random stuff she thought of. The sun soon set and painted the sky with hues of gold. Toji stopped by the stairs and sat on them while they watched the sunset.

"Aniki? What's your wish?"

Toji's eyes widened. No one has ever asked him what he wished for on his birthday or even any day. For once in his life, someone bothered to know what he wanted. He softly patted his sister's head and spoke. "I wish to see you happy and safe Tenten." Silence swept the air as the siblings didn't bother to speak a single word and enjoyed the peace, but little did they know it would soon be ripped away from them.

———

The eerie silence cuts through the night as an unknown man spoke with the head of the Zenin Clan - the father of Toji and Tenka.

“We’ll pay you any amount you want. All we need is the kid with the heavenly restriction.”

“You can have the girl. She has no use for us anyways.”

The two men shook hands and sealed the deal that would forever change the lives of the two siblings for the rest of their life.

“Let go! Help me! Aniki! Please let go of me!” The cries of the young girl were left unheard as she was dragged away from the place she called home by men she knew nothing about. Marks of blood were left with every step she took from her wounded feet. Tenka struggled and tugged her arm, trying to break free from their grasp but it was all rendered useless.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the estate, Toji lay restless on his bed. ‘Why do I feel like something is wrong…’ he thought. He tossed and turned but to no avail, he still felt wide awake. Minutes passed until he finally decided to take a walk and see if Tenka was awake. It was not out of the ordinary for Toji to feel sleepless at night, which is why he brushed his suspicions aside. Unfortunately, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment he reached Tenka’s room, he realized then and there that he should have trusted his instincts the moment he had it. The room was a mess - the picture frame that held a picture of Toji and Tenka was now shattered on the floor with blood staining it. It seemed as if someone stepped on the broken shards of glass. Having seen this, Toji was now in a panic.

‘What happened?’

‘Where is Tenka?’

‘Is she safe?’

All these questions swirled inside the mind of the 14-year-old boy. Toji never feared anything - not his clan, not his brother, and not even his father, but for the first time in his life, he was terrified. He ran out of the room shouting his sister’s name, not caring whether or not he was bothering the people in the estate. He searched for hours but he never found her. He knew that his last resort in finding his sister was asking his father. He knocked on his father’s study and to his surprise, he was still awake.

“Come in.” a gruff voice came from behind the door.

Toji never liked his father and neither did Tenka but unlike her, Toji never hid his hatred for the man. The two glared at each other the moment Toji stepped in the room. Toji wasted no time and asked. “Where is Tenka?” Their father sipped on his tea, simply glared through his cup. Toji, irritated by his actions, jogged to his father and slammed his hands on the desk. “Answer me old man! Where the hell is Tenka?!” The older man set his cup down and stood up. “I sold her. She was useless anyways.” He spoke as if the girl that was sold off wasn’t his daughter.

Toji stood there in disbelief. He looked at the man before him with pure resentment. “Well? I answered your question, now leave.” The man dismissed his son without even taking a glance at him. Toji left with a heavy heart. If only he listened to that voice in his head, and now he is forced to live a life without the one and only person he cared for.

———

Screams and cries echoed through the room as men strapped down Tenka on a table. She thrashed as much as she could to try and escape her bindings but this all stopped once she felt a painful sting across her cheeks. Her hair was grabbed, forcibly turning her head toward her captor.

"Stop thrashing around little girl. You will never escape, for you will be my little secret weapon"

Tenka could only stare through her tears in horror at the madman who cackled about all the experiments he would do on her. All to form the deadliest human weapon in his disposal.She suddenly felt something pierce her neck and a groggy feeling washed over her body. No longer able to feel her limbs, Tenka had no choice but to slip into the inky void of unconsciousness.

For several years, Tenka was stuck in an endless cycle of suffering just so that she could be the perfect human weapon. The sorcerers that held her captive saw potential in a child that had heavenly restriction, especially one that had no cursed energy at all, because everything comes with a price. The price for having no cursed energy is heightened physical attributes. The group of sorcerers thought that the Zenin clan was stupid for ignoring the children that could open up new opportunities for them.

For days on end, they put Tenka into experiments that would leave her wishing to be in the arms of death. Dosing her with different kinds of poisons so that she could build immunity against it, grueling hours of harsh training that left her with large cuts and bruises, and even going so far as to give her meals that could rival the taste of wet rags covered in vomit.

———

It has been 9 years since Tenka was taken from her clan’s estate and it felt like she had gone through all the 9 rings of hell during those years. Until one day, it seemed as if the gods finally heard her prayers for the past years because they at last brought someone to get her out of the hellhole.

It happened after Tenka had gone through the day’s experiments. As she laid unmoving on the cold floor of her cell, she heard shouts and screams from outside her cell door. “Someone has breached the facility, all security personnel are requested at the ground level immediately!” Tenka heard a guy shout through the intercom. Tenka’s eyes widened to this information. She dragged her battered body near her door and started slamming her fist against the metal. She called out for help, shouting for someone to save her amidst the chaos, despite her dry throat already screaming for her to stop.

Suddenly the door opened and all hope in Tenka’s eyes faded as it was the man in charge of her experiments that stood in front of her. He grabbed her by the collar and lifted her up, a sadistic grin plastered on his face. “You really think you can escape me little girl?”. The man cackled as he threw her to the ground and looked down at her. “You will never leave this place until I’m done perfecting you! Never–!”. His words were cut short as a blunt side of a katana hit the back of his head knocking him out cold.

Tenka looked in fear, unsure whether he had good intentions or not, at the man that stood before her with katana in hand. He looked as if he was in his late 30’s. He had black hair with gray eyes and was dressed in a black button up paired with black slacks. He crouched down and reached out to her, only to pull away once Tenka flinched. “Hey kid, let’s get you home hm?” He smiled while reaching her hand out to her. Tenka, once hearing this, immediately hugged him and cried in her arms - thinking she was finally saved.

The man could only look at her in pity after seeing her current state. The man walked through the facility, removing anything in his path just to make sure he brought this kid out of the building and into safety.

———

The middle aged man didn’t bother on reporting first to the higher ups about his mission. Making it his first priority to get home and take care of the girl. The moment he opened the door to his home, he was greeted by a gasp. His wife stood there in shock to see her husband carrying a wounded girl. She immediately rushed to them and ushered them in. “Oh my god! Is she alright? Are you injured?”. The man nodded. “I’m fine dear, but the girl… Can you help her?” He asked his wife, looking down at the child in his arms. The wife nodded and went to get supplies to help the young girl. The man walked to their spare room and laid the girl on the bed. He sat on a chair by the bedside, waiting for the woman to come in. The woman came rushing in and immediately tended to the girl.

After tending the last of Tenka’s wounds, the woman sat and tried to talk to her husband on what happened to his mission. “Honey… What happened? Where did the girl come from?” she looked at him in concern as she put her hand on his thigh.

"I just found her there… they were keeping her – experimenting on her. Based on the files I got in their lab, it seems she has been there for 9 years, my love.." The man spoke in a sullen tone as pity paints over his wife's face. He gently but firmly held his wife's hand and looked her in the eyes. "Love.. you can say no to this but… is it okay for you to let us adopt her? This can also be a way for us to finally have the kid we always wanted…" His wife only smiled. "I'm fine with that, my love." The two looked at Tenka with a smile, ready to take care of her as if she was their own.

From that day forward, Tenka's life finally changed for the better. No longer will she wake up to the horrendous cycle she called life for the last 9 years as she was now with the two people who would bring her unconditional love and happiness.

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Series Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue

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@cdej6

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targaryenmarvel · 14 days

Text

Fallin' All In You (Part 5) - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You’ve known Wanda Maximoff since you were children. She was the shy and exceptionally beautiful twin sister of your best friend, Pietro. For the most part, you two never interacted, but that changes when against your better judgment, you begin to develop feelings for the girl.

Warnings: Only cursing for now

Note: It took me a while to finish this chapter, but here we are. This story was originally going to end in the last chapter, but I decided to extend it and add two more as I felt there was more to tell. If there are any requests, I can continue with the drabbles while I work on my next story. Anyways, enjoy!

Word count: 3,073

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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After your exhilarating day, you rested in bed, grinning at the ceiling like a love-sick fool. The day's events weighed heavy on your mind, the memories making you giddy with excitement and happiness.

You thought of the softness of Wanda's lips and her agile tongue against your own, fighting for dominance. She had ultimately won, rendering you into a whimpering mess in her arms. You had skipped a few steps, but neither of you was complaining. The date would come soon.

Although you shared sweet and tender moments, a question lay heavily over your heads. What were you going to do about Pietro? You had been prepared to confess your feelings for his sister to him earlier. Yet now you weren't so sure on how to proceed. Too entrapped in Wanda's kisses and embrace, you had forgotten to breach the subject. A problem for later, you thought as Wanda sent you a message.

Wanda: Can't wait for our date ❤︎

It wasn't until days later your dread came to a peak. You sat on Pietro's bed with the boy at your side. The both of you clicked away at your controllers, guiding the movement of the figures on the television screen. You were playing the latest FIFA game. Pietro masterfully passed the ball around while you lagged, distracted by your thoughts.

Guilt racked through your body, forbearing your relationship with Wanda from your friend finally taking a toll. You were ready to proclaim your feelings, but Wanda seemed reluctant. You recalled your conversation with the girl from the day before.

You found yourself freshening up after another game. Your teammates were long gone, and you always seemed to be the last to leave. You were pulling on a clean shirt when you felt a presence behind you.

"Almost done, Nat," you half-mindedly say, thinking it's Natasha there to scold you for lingering too long.

"Hey," a much sweeter voice called, causing you to turn hastily.

"Hey," you repeated, grinning at the girl.

"Your team was great."

You playfully scoffed, clutching your chest. "Wow, what about me? No compliment for me? Is this about my gigantic ego?"

Wanda chuckled, slowly walking closer like a predator to its prey. "I will admit I'm mildly impressed by the fact you've scored until now."

"Do I get a reward?" you ask as she's inches away from your face.

Wanda rested her hands on your chest, nose brushing against your own. "I don't know. What do you want?"

You couldn't resist any longer as you closed the distance, eagerly taking her lips in your own. Gentle hands pulled you closer by your shoulder as you rested your own on her waist. The kiss was slow, filled with pent-up mutual desire.

You were ready to deepen the kiss when Wanda's phone buzzed, startling you, and you broke away.

"Sorry," Wanda said, checking her phone. "It's Pietro wondering where I am. I should head back. You coming?"

"Yeah," you answered, grabbing your bag as a frown adorned your features. Guilt had replaced the joy from moments ago. Wanda, of course, noticed your change in mood.

"What's wrong?" You took your hand comfortingly.

"Nothing." She tilted her head, nonbelieving, and you felt your stomach flip. You sighed, resigned, "It's just Pietro. What are we going tell him?"

Wanda froze like a deer caught in headlights, startled by your question. Although she, too, had thought of how to proceed with her brother, her thoughts on the subject were much different.

While Wanda stood there tongue-tied, you took her reaction as doubt, prompting you to ask, "Do we tell him?"

"No!" she said too quickly, and you felt her comforting touch turn into scolding fire. You released her hand, and Wanda realized her mistake. "Y/N, no. It's not like that. I promise I want to tell him I do, but you two are best friends, and I would hate to mess up your relationship. I'm just asking for time."

"Time?"

"Yes, to ensure that what we have is real and will work."

You wanted to tell her you had never been more sure about anything. That you would face the world if she were by your side. Your lips kept sealed, locking away your declarations, scared by the feelings of devotion.

"What's wrong with you today? Pietro's voice pulled you back to Earth as he continued to attack your team without mercy. "You're distracted."

"It's nothing," you answered, flashing back to your conversation with Wanda. You understood her logic for waiting; you did. However, it didn't stop you from hating the idea of keeping Pietro oblivious. You felt like a traitor, a fake friend, for keeping your relationship a secret from him.

"Is it a girl?" he asked out of the blue, and you jolted in his direction, nearly dropping your controller.

You paled. "Wha—why would you think that?"

"A guess." He shrugged with a grin. "By the look of it, I hit the jackpot. You're having girl troubles, huh? Tell me about her."

"It's complicated." He rolled his eyes and huffed at the lack of information. She wants to keep it a secret for now."

"Are you okay with that?" You nodded slowly with uncertainty. "That's not reassuring," Pietro commented.

You dropped flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating your next word. "I think she's scared of what could happen if things ended badly. I get it and am willing to wait."

"Alright then, I won't pry. Just know I'm here for you if you want to tell me about her," Pietro said knowingly but then smiled wickedly. "Hey, as long as it's not my sister, you do you. You paled, mortified by his words, and Pietro burst out laughing. "We'd be like divorced parents having to share custody of you. Spending one week with her and one with me. Not to mention, she'd probably turn you into a nerd like her."

At the sound of his words, the heavy sensation settling on your chest lessened until it nearly disappeared. It was all a joke, you thought, relieved.

Pietro threw down his controller on the bed. "I'm tired of kicking your ass. Let's do something else."

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, following him out of his room and casting a spare glance at Wanda's vacant room—the girl on an outing with her friends.

Pietro responded with a smirk, causing a surge of concern to well up within you. You knew you were in for a crazy night.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You won't lie; planning a date was probably the most complicated task you have ever done. Your lack of romantic experience left you spiraling for ideas. After much research, you decided to take Wanda to the fair in a neighboring town. Food, games, prizes, a kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel. The perfect plan.

Putting your plan into action was even easier by Pietro's absence from the Maximoff residence. The boy had left for Crystal's for the day.

As you parked in front of the residence, the younger Maximoff crossed the front door and entered your vision. The sight hit you like a punch in the gut, leaving you breathless and tongue-tied. You approached the girl, wonderstruck by her godly figure, intensified by the encompassing sunlight.

"You look beautiful," you whispered reverently, pulling her waist towards you and disregarding any onlookers.

Wanda flushed at your compliment, hiding her scarlet face in your neck and denying you the warming sight. The only indication of her embarrassment is a muffled "Shut up."

You chuckled, drawing away. "Are you ready?" She nodded, and you pulled her to your car, ready to commence the 40-minute journey.

The two of you stood still, hands tied, taking in the various stalls. Farther up ahead lay the mechanical rides, though you wanted to leave those for later as Wanda pulled you toward a shooting game. Knowing full well that most games were rigged, you followed Wanda like a puppy to the different game stalls. You won a few minor prizes on some games, while Wanda's were usually better. The girl teased you, gloating at her skill in the games, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

You rebounded playing skee ball, a game you loved at the arcade. You started by positioning yourself into a balanced stance, one foot in front of the other and slightly bending your knees. You pulled your arm back and swung from the shoulder, aiming for the 40-point pocket. You watched the ball roll with anticipation, cursing when it flew the mark falling into the 10-point slot.

Wanda attentively watched as you repositioned yourself for the next throw, heart fluttering at how you cutely scrunched your eyebrows wholly concentrated.

You tested your throw, trying to get a feel for the ball, and then repeated your actions with adjustments to the toss. This time, the ball landed precisely on the mark. By the end of your nine throws, you had garnered 370 points. You smirked at an impressed Wanda before turning to choose your prize: a stuffed teddy bear you needed to carry with both arms.

"Oh, how cute. I wonder if you'll sleep cuddled with it," Wanda teased lightheartedly. You hummed, getting closer to her, heart beating frantically at her cuteness.

"Actually, it's a gift for you," you said, offering the bear to her. Wanda stood there at a loss for words, glancing between you and the teddy bear. She mindlessly accepted the bear, gasping for words. Just like she hadn't been gifted flowers, neither had she been given such a gift. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, enchanted by your thoughtful gestures.

"I-I thank you!" she responded, hugging the bear to her chest.

"I hope you think of me when you cuddle it at night," you half-joked, internally wishing she did. Wanda turned red, and it only intensified when you gripped her chin, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

You did give her time to react as you eagerly pulled her to the bumper cars. The air echoed with screams of delight as you chased after each other. It's a game of tag of a sort, except with small, electrically powered cars. By the end of your little game, Wanda again rubbed her victory in your face. She was completely unaware that you had intentionally allowed her to win, finding joy in how her eyes would crinkle with happiness every time she emerged victorious.

After riding the carousel and indulging in a few other thrilling rides, the two of you made your way to the food court, famished after all the exhilaration. You both settled down at a weathered wooden picnic table, the sun filtering through the leaves of the trees overhead. Between you lay two cheeseburgers with fries and your respective drinks, a Coke and a pink lemonade. You gazed longingly at Wanda's refreshing pink lemonade, wishing you had ordered one.

Of course, Wanda noticed your stare and pushed her drink towards you, offering without saying a word. You hesitated, unsure whether to drink from the straw or remove the lid.

Wanda rolled her eyes, tentatively poking your lips with the straw. "Oh, come on. Don't act like you haven't had your tongue shoved down my throat."

You flushed at her bluntness, which became more frequent the longer you hung out together. You saw less and less of that shy girl who would stumble with her words or flee in your presence. The developing intimacy revealed a new Wanda that made you fall deeper.

You squirmed under her burning gaze but drank. It wasn't intentional the sensual way you wrapped your lips around the straw, keeping eye contact with her. You swear it wasn't, yet you could feel the air change around you, filling with tension as Wanda's attention shifted to your lips.

You leaned back, bringing the drink away from your lips with a soft pop. As you did, you ran your tongue over your lips, removing the lemonade remnants and intentionally provoking Wanda.

Wanda's stomach turned, heat creeping out through her body, warming her fingers and toes as desire overtook her body.

The world seemed to stop, and reality faded into the background. All that mattered was the girl in front. As her gaze shifted back and forth between your lips and eyes, you found yourself doing the same, caught in a moment of shared anticipation.

The screams of a young boy, trashing around in his mother's hold, cut through the stare down before you could lean over. You looked around, embarrassed, wanting to see if anyone had noticed, and were relieved to see that no one paid you any mind. If they had, you helplessly hoped they thought you were in an intense staring competition.

Feeling safe from prying eyes, you finally reveled in the embarrassment, cringing at the thought of kissing the girl while leaning over the wooden table. Wanda fidgeted with her hands, suddenly very interested in the chipped wooden table. As you looked back at her, you could tell she was thinking the same thing. But then she met your eyes, mortification evident in her viridescent eyes.

The palpable awkwardness of the situation slowly dissipated, replaced by a shared moment of pure hilarity, as the corner of your mouth twitched, causing both of you to burst into uncontrollable laughter. Wanda took a fry, hitting you in the middle of your forehead.

You gasped, falsely offended, as you rubbed your forehead. "Oh, it's on Maximoff," you declared, hurling your fry toward her. Wanda ungracefully swayed to the side, narrowly avoiding the thrown object as it lodged in her hair.

She delicately picked at the piece of food, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in surprise. Wanda then tilted her head to the side in a way that made your stomach flutter and said, "Bring it, L/N."

On ensued a food fight that earned you a few dirty looks from bypassers. It only stopped when Wanda took a handful of fries, breaking the unspoken rule of only throwing one fry at a time. You raised your arms and yelled, "Truce!" You slowly lowered one hand, and Wanda jerked her arm in response, observing you. Yet you only took the white napkin and flung it side to side. "I surender."

Wanda brought her hand down, placed the food back on her plate, and turned her lips upward in victory. The remainder of the meal was filled with cheerful and easygoing conversation.

After, you both settled on strolling through the farm zoo, wanting to give your stomachs a break from rides. You'd rather avoid hurling your meal, a hard lesson learned after riding zero gravity minutes after stuffing yourself with elephant ears. It wasn't fun.

Hand in hand, you and Wanda trekked to the various pens containing goats, sheep, pigs, bunnies, chickens, and more. You watched as Wanda adorably fawned over the bunnies, clinging to your arm and pointing at a black and white one.

As the sun set, you made your final rounds to some stalls and rides, even riding the mechanical bull at Wanda's insistence. Let's just say it ended with Wanda hunched in laughter and some blackmail material stored on her phone.

You saved the Ferris wheel for last, knowing night would only make it that more romantic. It seemed your luck couldn't get better, as the Ferris wheel stopped just as you reached its peak, towering over everything and everyone. The scene was nothing short of perfection. The full moon hung low in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the tranquil forest in the distance—a mesmerizing and enchanting picture.

"It's so beautiful," Wanda chimed.

"Yeah," you agreed, looking at her. As the silvery moonlight cascaded over her delicate features, it accentuated her innate, captivating beauty, adding a touch of ethereal allure to her presence.

You didn't feel ashamed when Wanda turned and caught you staring. The tension from earlier returned with a brutal force, knocking the air out of your lungs. The two of you leaned in, air crackling with anticipation. Your lips met in a slow, passionate kiss as warmth rushed through your bodies.

As the kiss intensified, you gently traced your tongue over Wanda's parted lips, silently requesting permission to deepen the kiss. It wasn't until your lungs ached for air that you stopped, gasping to catch your breath as you rested your forehead against hers.

"Thank you for making today wonderful," Wanda whispered, still breathless.

You gently stroked her cheek with your thumb. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

The anticipation and nerves leading up to the date had been overwhelming. But now, as the day unfolded smoothly, you can't help but marvel at how everything had fallen into place. All your nerves seemed absurd after you kissed the girl at the top of the Ferris wheel. "Honestly, I was spiraling over today. I had no idea how to woo you or plan a date," you confessed.

"How to woo me?" Wanda chuckled. "Well, you've done a wonderful job of wooing me, so don't worry. I've never had such a great date."

Given that her previous date had been with that jerk, Jarvis, there was no doubt in your mind about it. Yet you still questioned, "Not with Jarvis?"

Wanda flashed a smile and rolled her eyes. "No, definitely not with Jarvis." she replied."

"Good," you whispered, your fingers gently tugging at her neck to draw her closer to you. As your lips met, the kiss was tender and brief, filled with warmth and affection.

After the kiss ended, Wanda leaned in and rested her head gently on your shoulder. Gazing out at the scenery, a look of contentment washed over her face.

As the two of you dismounted from the ride, you instinctively reached for each other's hands and couldn't help but giggle with joy. It felt like the rest of the world faded away at that moment, leaving just the two of you in your bubble of happiness. For a second, at least, because in the next, it was ripped away like candy from a child.

"Wanda? Y/N?" The moment's tranquility was abruptly shattered by the unexpected call of a voice, jolting you out of your reverie and forcing you back into reality.

Dread filled your body, and next to you, Wanda tensed, crushing your hand. Yet you didn't pull away, too stunned by the sight before you. There, as shell-shocked as you stood, Pietro and Crystal.

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Taglist: @alexawynters

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #targaryenmarvel fics

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sakumz · 7 months

Text

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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. [ i. shu x fem reader ]

a/n : um... I got a shit ton of editing and rewriting to do lmfao, like there's a few shots for bllk and there's still that pending mysta fic. ૮ ⚆ﻌ⚆ა

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" sleepover... at a friend's house? " shu asked once more, hoping what he heard wasn't true.

" yeah. mom said I could go. I'll be leaving tonight, " his sister, motoko answers. rendering the poor man speechless.

" your friend isn't kitahara, right? " he questions, his eyes twitching slightly with what the younger man could do to his sister.

" n-no! it's a girl. her sibling goes to your school anyway. ah! if you're sooo concern, you could come with me. her sibling did say I can invite you... " without a second thought, he said yes.

the walk to your house wasn't as quiet. shu was asking his sister all sorts of questions to what or who you are. his sister doesn't know your name but describing your features wasn't helping them as shu can't recall anyone with said features.

" welcome! oh you really brought your brother along. I thought big sis was joking around when she said that, " shu wanted to scream, upon hearing your sister's words. you are a girl? motoko didn't specify earlier, he only came thinking this "sibling" was a guy and could take advantage of the situation.

" why are you making the guests wait out in the cold? drag them in! " hearing your voice calling from the brightly lit room, snapped him out of his little world.

motoko, being the angel she was, grabbed her brother wrist and dragged him along with her to the house.

" you're not gonna run away now, are you? " motoko whispers as shu gulps and shook his head, assuring her lightly that he won't.

as they got comfortable with your house after a little tour by your younger sister. everyone is seated in the living room by the table. motoko and your sister decided to do some light homework as you and shu sat quietly facing each other. you're on the phone as shu tries to distract himself by studying a little but he can't.

" you can't seriously be studying right, pfft seems a little uncharacteristic. " hearing you directly speak to him, made him jump.

" ne, motoko. let's go to my room! let's study there instead. " motoko agreed with your sister and they quickly pack up and go. leaving you and him alone.

" they say it's not safe to leave a man and a woman alone, you know. " you pout seeing them go.

" I won't do anything, I swear! also, where are your parents? how come, you don't mind me tagging along moto to your place? " he finally asks.

" oh that, parents are out on some sort of wedding anniversary thing overseas. I didn't really expect you to come, hahaha. I gotta tell toru and the others this. " snapping a sudden picture of the man, left him flustered a bit. looking at his face you double take a photo of him. one with his flush faced in.

" I can't believe you. you even know toru, yet I barely remember you besides being the council secretary. you don't hang around sengoku and remi- "

" I can't stand both of them, acting all lovey dovey especially remi! she won't stop running her mouth about dates and love around me. she tells me I should find love but well... its hard so I avoid them, toru and the others are ok to a certain level. hori and miyamura may be together but they're tolerable same with the other pair. "

hearing your outburst, left the man to think for abit before opening his mouth. he shouldn't put up an act and fake his happy bubbly personality infront of you especially right now since he's been quiet at the start.

" it's late and we should sleep, you can take the couch or you can sleep in my bedroom, I'll just take my parents room for the night. "

" oh I'll take the couch just fine, thanks. " just like that the sleepover was over in a blink of an eye.

" hey toru, wanna hit the cafe after school? " shu suggests as his dear friend agrees and they're there, ordering their meals before looking for a seat.

" ne, y/n y/n! you got your eyes set on anyone yet? you seem pretty happy today. " remi starts as you cough and place your drink down.

sakura pats your back as you thank her in between your fit of coughs. the boys decide to settle in the table behind yours, staying quiet as to listen in on the conversation. being your gaming buddy, toru is indeed very curious about the sudden tea remi was stirring.

" was it the sleepover? " sakura questions as remi looks slightly offended dropping her cookie.

" you had a sleepover and you didn't invite me? " she pouts, making you frown.

" it wasn't like that. it was between my sister and her friend... she invited her brother, that's all. "

hearing your words, shu blushes from the embarrassment of what you said as toru stops eating to fully focus on the conversation. remi and sakura are stunned but it doesn't stop them from prying further.

" h-h-her brother was at your house so it was just three girls and a guy? did he do anything, was he harsh- " sakura was interrupted by remis own questions.

" who's the guy? do you know him? " shu can't help but stand from his seat. the sudden noise of the chair screeching, left everyone quiet to look at the source.

" iura? " you called as the girls tilt their heads in confusion.

" he... iura was at your house? " remi clarifies as toru look at his friend that got up to throw his trash.

" yeah but not only that he's here too. that means... toru is here too. " hearing his name he can't help but turn to wave at you, he's been caught red handed. shu stops to greet you before moving back to his seat at toru.

" back to the topic at hand, " sakura brought the two of you back as the boys were still quietly listening.

" I don't even want to talk about it anymore, " you put your head on the table as sakura comforts you by rubbing your back.

" it's fine but I am still very curious, you must have caught some sort of feeling at this point, right? everytime he barges into some sort of space you're in, there's a slight smile that crawls to your face. you don't talk to him much, but hearing others talk is kinda enough for you to figure out what type of person he is. " remi sips her drink after her little statement.

" well maybe I do like y/n-san! " shu confesses as he turn around to look at your side, making the girls shock as well as toru and you.

" dude you're too loud. " toru whispers as shu was quick to cover his face.

toru could see your slightly red face from his seat, he wanted to laugh at how cute your love story was blooming. the girls couldn't help but be stunned with the confession. it wasn't towards them but it was pretty bold and it felt like the words carried too much love to be shared.

" I'm done eating, iura... let's take this elsewhere, " you called for the green haired man as toru gave him the ok to go, he just hopes you're gonna be nice about it and not hit him like what he thinks hori would do because his loud confession got a few stares.

sakura and remi was bursting with excitement as they bid you farewell. you and him walked to a nearby bench before taking a seat.

" you... heard everything did you? " you question as he slightly pray you're not gonna hit him.

" I wasn't the only one who heard... but yes I did I'm sorry, " he looks the other way, trying to avoid all eye contact with you.

" I'm not mad, I won't hit either. um, it is true... maybe I was falling for you but can you say it again? "

" say what? "

" the confession, this time on my phone hehe. it was so adorable how you shouted I like y/n! hahaha. "

" don't remind me, besides a love confession should just be remembered... but whatever makes you happy. ahem, I love you y/n. please be my girlfriend and go out with me. "

" I love you too, shu. I'll gladly be your girlfriend. "

thats when a sweet love story blooms between you two, everyone was shock with the news of the two people they least expected to date was dating. but those don't matter as long as you were both happy.

#sakumz.pdf #shuu iura #iura shu x reader #shuu iura x reader #horimiya x reader #iura shuu x reader

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Someone is eager to see Mafia Mamma and that someone is me. So anyway.

When a twenty-two year old Steve Harrington gets the call, he isn't in the best spot in his life. Sure, he survived all the Upside Down crap, but his parents finally had enough of his so-called trauma ("the earthquake was bad, Steven, but you can't let that influence your life forever! It's like you're not even trying!"). He didn't get to college and his love life is abysmal, but hey, at least he does something useful now - he's training to be a paramedic and he lives in a small, old flat, regularly calling Robin and his gaggle of kids and hanging out with Eddie whenever possible. So maybe it's not the best spot in life, but it's his.

Well, apparently his great-uncle that his mother never really talked about died and asked that Steve takes over the family business in his will. Family business that is in Italy. Cool.

Look, Steve likes first aid, saving lives and all that, but, after the second shared joint with Eddie, admits he's curious. No one said it has to be forever, but maybe it would help him to try something else for a change. Eddie absolutely approves, squeezes Steve's shoulder, but - a little sadly, it seems to Steve - admits he's going to miss the only person who went through all the shit and stuck around. He even jokes he'll hide in Steve's suitcase and will go to Italy with him. "You know, somewhere far away from the Satanist rep. Well, Vatican is there so that's not ideal, but maybe with no murders and levitation this time, I'd just pass as the weird American?" And without thinking, Steve blurts out: "Come with me."

They land in Italy with almost nothing, Eddie with a beat up backpack and his guitar ("not even death or other fucked up dimensions will us part, Steve!"), Steve with a sports bag full of clothes and graduation pics of his kids plus Robin and Nancy, and his trusted hair spray. He really, really wanted to take his spiked bat, but apparently that would be a hazard on the plane. Go figure.

And of course, the "family business" is full of black suits, guns, rapid Italian threats and on top of that, the other families know that the old head of the family is gone and they smell the blood in the water. Especially when the new leader is barely an adult who looks more like a model than a criminal. And his friend who looks like a criminal? That one looks more like a petty thief or vandal than an actual mafia member. Now is their time to strike.

Turns out, that wasn't the best idea. Not when the doe-eyed metalhead grabs the nearest chair and smashes it repeatedly over the assailant's head while yelling "I-DID-NOT-SURVIVE-BEING-CHEWED-ON-TO-DIE-TO-A-FUCKING-BULLET-YOU-MOTHERFUCKER!" while the new boss reaches for the nearest lamp and, like a bloody ninja, renders three assassins unconscious, then setting down the bloodied rod (goodbye, lamp shade and light bulb) and tells his advisor that he wants a baseball bat, a hammer and a bunch of nails. For...reasons.

They gradually settle in. Steve excels in keeping his family in line by adopting his best mom pose, hands on hips, while sternly uttering "What did we say about excessive violence, Francesco? Hm? If you start there, what do you do when you need to escalate? Why do you start with the worst? And they call me dumb." When his bodyguard cocks his gun and asks who called him dumb and where do they live, Eddie snorts into his coffee. (also Steve later apologizes to Francesco for calling him dumb, but also adds that rules are made to be followed, especially those that save a lot of blood and pain)

As for Eddie, without the academic pressure he becomes and unstoppable language student. He's like a sponge, being semi-fluent while Steve struggles with basic phrases. They study together and Eddie begins feeling more confident, takes up more languages and slowly starts functioning as Steve's interpreter and teacher in one. Also a bit more, when they have to evade another assassination attempt and Steve finds himself laying on top of Eddie, on the ground where he pulled him to save him from a nasty punch, and no one comments on it when they get up a few seconds too late, their lips and faces red.

Eventually Steve becomes fluent as well and that's when Eddie experiences the best time of his life - when they walk together in a market, bodyguards giving them just a little bit of privacy, and someone spits on the ground behind them - "stupid American." But before Eddie can react, Steve throws a bitchy look at the offender and says in perfect Italian: "and you look like a poorly shaved goat, yet I'm not judging."

Eddie howls in laughter and nudges Steve's side. "Careful, Stevie. I might think you don't need a teacher anymore."

Steve wraps his arm around Eddie's waist. In here, surrounded by the bodyguards and his family, he can finally do that. "Maybe not. But I'll always need a boyfriend. Wanna apply?"

#steddie au #steddie drabble #steddie mafia au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things drabble #the movie is an action comedy so of course mafia is a serious and cruel organization #but we deserve some silly AUs and you have one right here

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crispycreambacon · 1 month

Text

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them

All of the things that you think and then think about thinking

I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are

They're white noise

— White Noise, Will Wood —

Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.

I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!

Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.

Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.

They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice

They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head

Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.

Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong

You're not meant to sing along

It isn't that kind of song

It's white noise

Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?

In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.

But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear

You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear

This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.

Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?

Its personality's a lack of identity

The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?

Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.

Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.

I know it's hard

But they're not who you are

They're white noise

This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.

The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.

Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.

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autisticlancemcclain · 10 months

Text

part one

———

Keith can feel it bubbling up inside him.

He’d like to think he’s grown to have a handle on it, the rage. It’s no longer his first reaction to things, no longer his response to everything. He’s not the little kid who trusted no one and hated himself for things that weren’t his fault anymore. He’s grown. He’s learnt to recognise how rarely he truly feels anger; how often it is pain, or sadness, or fear that he doesn’t know how to handle.

He knows this feeling is terror. He knows he is looking out into the endless, endless sea and quavering, in his mind, rendered mute at the future he may have, or lack thereof. What he is feeling is fear, at the roots of things.

But anger is all that’s bubbling up, anyway.

“Are you fucking serious!” he shouts, rattling the boat with the force of his rage. “You got us lost?!”

Luckily, or maybe unluckily considering their situation, Lance has never been the cowering type. He’s just as stubborn and headstrong as Keith, evident in the way he carefully sets down the useless GPS, jaw set, and turns to face Keith.

“I was not the only fool to inebriate myself in a largely unmanned vessel,” he shoots back. He’s doing that thing he does, when he’s furious, when he’s convinced he’d backed into a corner and on his own, where he speaks like a fucking decorated college professor so no one can accuse him of being stupid. ‘Lawyering up’, Keith has always called it. And usually it makes him sad on Lance’s behalf, knowing exactly the string of experience that has led him to that response, but right now it only pisses him off.

“Oh, cut the fucking bullshit, Lance. You were supposed to put down a fucking anchor!”

“I did!”

“Fucking obviously not!”

Lance’s fists clench, and a muscle jumps in his cheek from the tenseness of his jaw. His next words are growled, practically spat in Keith’s direction.

“I put a fucking anchor down, Kogane. It was the first thing I accomplished. It was a current anchor, and I’m certain I set it properly.”

Keith yells, wordless, just a loud shout so he doesn’t explode with everything inside him, gripping his hands in his hair so tightly it hurts. “Well, obviously fucking not, Lance, because I’m at fucking sea right now! Surrounded at all sides by fucking water!”

“How is it my fault that the anchor failed?” Lance shouts, finally cracking his careful composure. It satisfies Keith in a horrible kind of way, to see him just as frantic and furious as Keith is, no bullshit. “Huh? Want me to fucking take it up with the fuckers at the hardware store?”

“I’d love that, except you can’t, because you fucking got us lost!”

Something snaps in Lance’s expression, and he lunges forward, but before Keith can react, he brushes past him and dives overboard, crashing into the gentle waves. It takes Keith several seconds to fully register what the fuck just happened, and by the time he drops to his knees and leans over the side of the boat, Lance is several feet away and rapidly swimming farther.

“Lance!” he shouts, panic replacing the anger in his voice. The only thing worse than being stranded is being stranded by himself. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Lance pauses, treading water as he glances over his shoulder in Keith’s direction. “Avoiding doing something I regret, ” he says shortly. “I either shoved you or jumped myself. One of those is a significantly less shitty decision.”

Keith stares at him for a moment, then pinches the bridge of his nose, taking several seconds to exhale as long and loud and exasperated as he can. He’s almost annoyed to find a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Lance,” he says, pursing his lips, “get the fuck back here, you pillar of dumbass.”

For several minutes Lance doesn’t, likely just to out-stubborn him, but eventually gives in and paddles over. He pauses at the edge of the boat, reaching up one hand to steady himself and letting the rest of him just float.

“I’m not going to yell anymore,” Keith says after several moments. He means it, too; he knew yelling and fighting wouldn’t solve anything but chose his fury over his fondness for Lance, and he wishes he hadn’t.

Lance shakes his head before he can finish. “Nah, I think a little yelling was necessary. I did get us lost. Well, kind of. Fifty-fifty, I think.”

“Fifty-fifty?!” Keith responds indignantly. “I think the fuck not, Oh Captain My Caption! Eighty-twenty at best!”

“That’s absurd. Fifty one-forty nine.”

“That’s not a real offer, jackass. You just brought yourself back up to ninety-ten.”

Lance flicks a drop of water at him, grinning. “Sixty-forty?”

Keith sighs. “I’ll take it.” He holds out a hand. “Come up, dorkbrain.”

Lance grabs his hand, smile widening. Keith realises his mistake a milisecond too late.

“Oh, you motherfucker —”

Lance yanks him into the sea, cackling as he sputters sea water on his way back up. His cackles turn quickly to shouts of alarms, though, when he reads the murder in Keith’s expression, and quickly he books it, swimming as fast as he can to the opposite side of the boat. Keith chases him with full intent to drag him under and drown his bitch ass, but unfortunately Lance grew up with a fuckin’ mermaid tail, or whatever, and Keith has to call it when he genuinely starts to worry he might drown from exhaustion.

He grabs the rope on the side of the boat, heaving himself up until his elbows hook over the edge, legs dangling in the water. Lance mirrors him, still on the opposite end. Keith is gratified at least to find him panting, out of breath as well. The look at each other, and reach a wordless agreement, climbing back onto the boat and flopping on the floor. The take a minute, chests heaving, to catch their breaths, sobering as they look up at the cloudless sky and truly realize the predicament they’ve gotten themselves into.

“Well, it could be worse,” Lance says quietly. He continues before Keith can ask him how the fuck that could be. “I mean, I planned for this to happen. Not, like, I planned for it to actually happen to us, but I packed a bunch of emergency supplies on the off-chance that we would somehow get stranded.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? For how long?”

“Well, long as shit, I would suppose. I packed enough for six people to last a month.”

“So the two of us are set for God knows how long.”

They lapse into silence, both pondering the seriousness of their strandedness, the reality of the helpless situation they’re in. They have food and water, sure, and a few other survival things, but what about shelter? Something that’s not a hard boat to sleep on, or old pillows? What about when it gets cold at night, or it rains, or they run into something bigger than their boat? They’re totally lost, communications dashed, GPS unavailable, and honestly still a little hungover. They are, objectively, in for a fuckin’ rough one.

A hand reaches over and wraps around Keith’s, startling him from his thoughts. He looks over at Lance, but Lance looks pointedly away, gaze fixed firmly at the sky, something unreadable written on his face.

“You know, not that it fixes anything,” he starts quietly. He hesitates a moment, long enough that Keith opens his mouth to ask him to finish his sentence, before continuing. “But I’m grateful, at least, that it’s you I’m stuck with.”

His words hang in the air, a heavy blanket settling over them. Keith’s face heats. The tiniest of smiles pulls at his lips, and he squeezes Lance’s hand as he looks away.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “yeah, I lucked out there.”

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irondiotallica · 8 days

Text

Flare Up

I went a little ham with this one. Couldn't stop writing it seems, but here is a new blurb. It's def a little clunkier than the other one, but I like the idea of Steve becoming a physical therapist after everything and offering his services to the cute metalhead he's had a crush on since the upside down. Idk. Oh and fun fact, Times Square used to be the porn capital before the 1990s when Mayor Rudolph Giuliani shut it down to clean up the city. Anyway, enjoy the blurb! -Silas

[Steddie]

Eddie’s hip furiously blazed with a flash of stabbing pain. His joints had been bothering him underneath the scars left by the bats and their fucked up little teeth. The scarred flesh on his left hip was uncomfortably tight, pulled taut over his muscles and bones.

The damaged skin constricted his right shoulder, as though the skin would burst into a bleeding fissure with the tiny struggling breaths that Eddie was pushing through in labored waves. He was moments away from caving and taking a dosage of pills despite having agreed to take them less.

He felt as though his insides weren’t aware that he had been kept alive. It felt like his nerves had continued to decay turning into soaked cotton doused in kerosene with one little spark of discomfort able to render him incapacitated.

Eddie shuffled to his phone with dread flooding through his system like an unprepared county during monsoon season. He knew that he had to call, but he was reluctant to do so. Even if he had been told it was no trouble, he knew it was more than it was worth.

He fidgeted, clenching his fingers around the coiled cord that connected the phone to the receiver. He dialed the numbers still imprinted in his brain from the day they had been hastily scribbled with a wolfish grin and intoxicating charm. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and Eddie began to put the phone back in its cradle when he heard a warm voice call out.

“Hello! This is Hawkins Physio Clinic, Dr. Harrington’s office. How may I help you?”

Eddie felt his face flush at the rush that hearing Steve’s voice gave him.

“Um H-hi,” Eddie coughed as he tried to clear the nervous lump from his throat,” Hey Steve.”

His words came out weak and nervous to his ears, he couldn’t imagine how it sounded to Steve.

Eddie could practically hear the grin that Steve was wearing through the phone.

“What can I do for you Eds,” Steve huffed out behind quiet chuckles.

Eddie tried to think before he spoke, but the words were flashing like the overwhelming neon signs that covered the porn capital of seemingly the world, Times Square. He continued to stumble through his words.

“Well, you said, uh,” his words were stubbornly refusing to come out of his mouth, thick with nerves,” you said if my joints were giving trouble, to call you.”

Eddie was not used to this. Asking for help was difficult and normally he wouldn’t ask, letting the issue fester, but he was dying. The pain was consistent and recurring. Somedays were good, but for the last week, he had mainly bad days filled with tears and laying on the floor praying for the pain to pass.

“I did say that. Are you finally taking me up on my offer? I’ve been told that I’ve got the magic touch.”

God, the cocky assurance in his voice was enough to make Eddie stand at attention in more ways than one, but another jolt of agony quickly snubbed that thought out.

“Fuck.”

It slipped past his lips before he could stop himself. His free hand gripped his thigh as he slid himself down to the ground waiting for the pain to pass. His breath was coming out short and a little frantic.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

Steve’s voice was warm and sweet like heated milk before bed as the cockiness dissipated, replaced with concern. Eddie wanted to answer, but the pain was crashing in waves and drowning him mercilessly. Still, he tries to answer.

“Ye-,” Eddie takes a deep breath in, feeling a few tears slip past his bottom eyelid,” Yeah, Steve. My nerves are just-”

Eddie breathes in again. He can’t stop the slew of pants leaving his lungs.

“-misfiring. Just misfiring or whatever the fuck the doctor said,” he finally choked out, his voice tense and seizing with stress.

“I’ll be right there, okay? Just stay put.”

Eddie laughs at that although it comes out weak and soft.

“Where am I gonna go?”

“Oh shut up, you dork. You know what I mean.”

Eddie laughs a bit more before a groan leaves his lips at another jolt. He hears the click of disconnection and puts the phone down on the floor before laying on the tiles hoping for the chilly ceramic to ease the continuous, seizing torture.

Eddie is still on the floor when a series of knocks echoes around him. Three rapid ones followed by four spaced out. Steve was here.

“It’s open,” Eddie calls out as he strains with tension.

Steve steps in and immediately heads to Eddie with graceful movements. Eddie looks at him through slitted eyes. Steve reaches down, pulling Eddie close, and murmuring sweet words to him. You’re so good, doing amazing, such a strong guy, so strong for me; flowing past his plush lips into Eddie’s ears.

A warm, secure, big hand grips Eddie’s hip as the palm presses down and drags his hip, resulting in a quick crack and Eddie feeling his joint loosen. Eddie pushed his face into Steve’s shoulder letting those hands massage his hip and the muscles surrounding it.

God, Steve did have the magic touch, Eddie thought to himself with each warm bout of pressure.

He let a sigh slip as those hands deviated to pop his shoulder before massaging the sore blades. He felt good, floaty in Steve’s care.

“There we go. Good job Eds. Always so good for me.”

Eddie feels his cheeks glow red as he tries not to think of the implications of those words. Eddie stays wrapped in Steve’s arms, comfortable.

“Thank you,” he stutters out with relief weighing his voice down.

Steve grins down at him with something akin to infatuation glimmering brightly in his gaze. Eddie couldn’t help but stare unabashedly at the pretty picture that Steve Harrington made. His warm brown eyes brimming with life. His little moles that were perfectly placed on his face as though planned. Those stupidly perfect, stupidly white teeth that Eddie had thought only possible in movies. Who could forget the hair? That stupidly styled mop of gorgeous mousy brown hair. Steve was stunning in Eddie’s eyes.

“If you really want to thank me, you could let me take you out this Saturday; see that new sequel to Alien?”

“You have the worst timing for things. Robin was right, you are a dingus,” Eddie teased, laughing at the way Steve looked away with a blush that went as far as the tips of his ears.

“Shut up,” he grumbled out, squeezing Eddie just a little tighter.

After Steve had finally collected himself, he looked at Eddie questioningly,” So? Are you letting me take you out?”

Eddie nodded with a grin, boyish and wide.

Steve responded with a match grin and confirmation.

“It’s a date.”

#steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #blurb #eddie x steve #steve harrington #fluff

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