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#like i thought virgins empire was long
nonameidentified · 5 months
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God really gave me the weakest soul, I got giddy and jumped around the room on the mere fact that a yuri manga (well manhua, but let's not split hairs here, yuri is yuri) with over 500 chapters exists.
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hanjisunglover · 2 months
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒
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𐙚 pairing: volleyball player!han jisung x nerdy fem!reader
𐙚 genre: smut, high school au, strangers to ??, angst, fluff
𐙚 word count: 6.7k
𐙚 warnings: reader is a virgin, jisung it's kinda an asshole, he's also lowkey manipulative, dirty talks, dom! jisung, sub! reader, jisung it's kinda needy at the end, fingering (f!recieving), oral recieving ( m! and f! receiving ), eating cum, penetration, unprotect sex ( stay safe y'all), semi-public sex (people walking down the hall) spank kink ( f! receiving), breeding kink. Jisung's friends bullies reader, ji it's pretty jealous.
𐙚 summary: y/n has the best grade in history, jisung is just a volleyball player that can't keep himself out of challenges, so why not seducing the pretty y/n?
𐙚 members mentioned: minho, bang chan, hyunjin
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[ jisung 02:34 am ] what are you asking me to?
[ minho 02:38 am ] you want the money? fuck her then :)
[ jisung 02:39 am ] why her? com'on you can think someone else
[ minho 02:40 am ] because her brother is in the team that we need to piss off for the next game, we need to win this time, that's why
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You love History, you like the feeling of knowing things more than the others. You always been intelligent and smart, above the people. Never been out with a guy, never really trusted yourself enough for a relationship with anyone more than your own brother. Chan always been the extrovert in the family: you loves books, he loves volleyball and parties. You never complained to see him jumping around as the captain of the Lokeys and as setter.
That's how jisung started to ask you some help with history. You were so surprised when he stopped you from going out the class after the long and super interesting lesson from Mrs. Yang, that woman showed you the best way to love the Roman Empire. His cheeky smile and his strong cologne made your mind spin, but you tried to keep it cool to refuse. Until he talked about paying the extra sessions, and then.. how can you refuse it?
Extra money, talking about your favorite subject, that's the jackpot for a nerdy like you. You still don't trust him to make him come to your house to study, that's how you end up in the car of your big brother.
"Why you didn't refuse to help him?" Chan pinch his bridge of the nose, sigh lightly, he doesn't like the idea of her little sister with Jisung. He doesn't really know him, he doesn't know that much to let her sister go with a guy like him. For Chan you're still his baby sister, to protect from the world.
"it's gonna be fine, I'll keep my location on in case, don't worry okay? it's just study at the library." just study at the library, that's your thoughts. But you have the feeling of something else happens in your head, the drive to the school it's quiet enough to let you think.
Jisung, Han Jisung, the best setter that your school ever had before. He's good, he practice so hard everyday, he loves volleyball more than everything and you unfortunately knows. You know because Chan is the captain of the Lokeys, team that wins against them every single time. The difference now?
Jisung is in the team. And he talks with his members without even explain anything, he can read people in the best way possible, he can gets the opponents' moves even before they make them. It's just a genius in his game
Your brother drops you off and as you walk out he stops you holding your wrist a little, "hey, call me if he's being an ass, kay? I still can wait in the parking lot until you're done."
"hey, I got it." You smile softly at him as he waves at you from the window of the car as he speed right in front of you, just to make you laugh. You look at the doors of the school with a big breath.
The people around there are just some professors, some crazy kids that loves the book at the school and the sport clubs with the training hours, you never understood why put so much effort on your body. You hates sweating. And moving, in general it's not your favorite thing in the world, that would be diaries from the 40' about the WW1.
You try to find a quiet spot in the library, with your bag on your shoulder and the books against your chest, you need to find the perfect table to not have too many people around. Perfect to low talk and not being caught by the hateful librarian, who frankly - hates you. The reason? You may or not have held about ten books from the school on the industrial revolution.
I mean, who would blame you? they are good books, at least for you, and some other nerds. That you don't know, you don't talk to many people, you're voice it's so quiet that everytime people ask you to repeat yourself, at least three times.
As your turn the corner you notice a little table, not bigger than one seat each side, perfect. You fix your clothes as you sitting, putting the books and the conceptual maps that you like to make, your handwriting is delicate, neat and everything is divided down in color due to your visual memory. You are envied for your notes, which are going around to your classmates every time for classwork.
You waited for two hours there. Any reasonable person would have already picked up their things and gone. Not for you. You, you stayed there, studying anyway. You tried not to waste time and clear your thoughts as you finished your notes from the last lesson. When suddenly your phone rings.
[ Channie 18:21 ] are you guys almost done? :D
[ y/n 18:21 ] he never show- As you type the text Jisung gets inside the library, a grin in his face that makes every girl turn her head to look at him, he's wearing his classic uniform to training for volleyball. His movements are full of confidence as he looks around for you, as he stands up in front of the table he start to chuckles.
"Hey beautiful."
[ y/n 18:24 ] nope, but I text you when we are ♡
"my name is Y/n," muffled words gets out your mouth as you look over him, his tonic body gets right in front of you and your side of the table.
You bow a little as you press your lips together in an awkward smile, he chuckles as he cross his tonic arms against his chest. "I know, but names are not my favorite. I like nicknames, so.. you took this thing serious I see," he murmurs.
Jisung take his seat right next to you, his sweaty body makes you feel almost dizzy for how hot he looks, shiny tears of sweats driving down his neck, going inside his shirt. You're trying to not stare, but it's really hard when you have a good looking guy next to you. "So where you lack the most?" You says clearing your throat with a light cough, moving your hair behind your ear as you look at the chapters in the book in front of you. His eyes are on your lips are you talk.
"Right, of course." he nods once and gives you a charming smile as he looks down, trying to focus on the book. Jisung smirks as he watches you blush.
"Now, now… why should I be focused when I have you next to me, looking all cute and gorgeous?" He chuckles in amusement and leans closer toward you, his arms crossing over his chest. "Would be hard to concentrate on anything else, really." he winks at you and runs a hand through his hair.
You blush hardly to find him so close to your face, try to muffles some words but everything that comes out from your mouth a some gasps, he's being clearly flirty and that makes you flustered already, "book, study, please?"
He chuckles as he presses his index finger against your cheek, the sudden contact makes you confused but you manage to control it, "why don't we play a game mh? Simon says. one each."
You sigh, because you think it's the best way to make him focus. "okay, who's start?"
"Ladies first," he moves his hand over you almost brushing his fingers over your arm and you shiver at the light touch, Jisung can read your face and your thoughts as if your internal dialogue is speaking to him.
"Simon says open your book and take notes," your light order make him chuckles, but he listen and he grab his own book opening at the same page as you.
You breathe a sigh of relief as you begin to highlight important points about the book, his focus lasts for about half an hour before he places both hands on the table and looks at you intently with a smirk.
"Simon says, let me kiss you," you almost choke yourself with his words, you shake lightly your head, "no com'on.. please.. it's-it's enough."
Jisung smirks when you turns your head a bit, getting closer again and nudging your jaw with the tip of his thumb. "I think you don't know the game, sugar. You have to do whatever Simon says. Otherwise your turn is lost." Jisung chuckles softly and raises a brow again, his other hand drifting to your thigh, right under your skirt. He keeps teasing you and playing with your mind.
You squeeze your thighs together as she whine a little, looking at him lightly as she glance at his lips, sighing deeply, "Are we gonna back to study after?"
"Yes, promise." Jisung chuckles softly and raises a hand to your face, stroking your cheek softly and tilting your head back toward him. "Can I have your answer now, sweet thing? Or do you need me to make this harder for you?" The hand on your thigh squeezes your leg gently, making you squeal, and he leans in to breathe in your scent. Jisung's lips are just inches away from yours now, his breath hot on your skin. The tension is thick as he lean on you.
He kisses you softly, biting your bottom lip with determination, he's running too fast for you; it's your first kiss. Your eyes are closed as he keep kissing you with transportation. The moment breaks as you get breathless, your cheeks red like cherries and your eyes locked in his. "it was your first kiss, isn't it?"
As you nod he chuckle like a kid, This is gonna be easier than I thought, jisung is thinking about. You cover your face with your hands he moves his hand on your thigh again, "oh don't worry angel, I'll be gentle next time, but I can't promise anything."
Next time? oh you're totally losing it. He talks about a second kiss? you only saw those kinda of things in movies or tv series that you cry yourself on during the night when you feel that you need to 'suffer' about a relationship - that frankly, you never had. But that's not a problem for you, you never expected someone to loves you like the movies, or loves you like the songs that you always listen and fills your playlists.
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Between the lessons in the days after, Jisung started to talk to you, to even say hi between the periods, also doing small chats between you two.
"hey y/n!" "can you help me with the study after?" "let me buy you some coffee," "we should hang out soon."
the kiss, the kiss, the kiss. That is the only thing that run through your mind, every time he is around. You can't stop think about it! it's all over your head, as soon as you close your eyes you can feel his lips against yours again, and just the thought makes your panties extremely wet. For God sake, you're lucky that he didn't touched you in the library, you're not sure that you are capable enough to shut your mouth. He's so attractive, walking around with his confidence that build just insecurities to the people in the hallways, so hard to get it for you. But hey, you're not in the same level as him.
He's a 10, you're a 6. Your brother would say a minus 8, but it's your older brother, so his vote doesn't count. Because he would say anything to make you genuinely happy, he loves you unconditionally it's impossible for him to not give you a right number. But still, you don't believe him.
During the middle school, your class listed the girls from the prettiest, to the ugliest. Just a funny game, but you hated it, all of the competition that shouldn't be in a bunch of 16 years old girls made you feel more and more uncomfortable. With your body, your extreme intelligence, made you ended up in one of the last positions.
You started to believe it, because if everyone agree, why it shouldn't be the truth? So you started to act like one, eating alone during lunch, your assignments with a group of people you decided to made your part by your own, your friends started to hang out with other people so; why force something that already is done.
Walking down the hall, by yourself and your eyes focus on the floor, Jisung is sneaking from behind, putting his arm around your shoulder, "hey beautiful."
"uh! hi, hi jisung," You mumble as you almost drop everything that you're holding in your arms, his eyes are traveling from your eyes to your lips, the tension building up inside you. "how are you doin? still too busy to hang out with me?"
He never asked you, "you never asked me."
Your sudden change of tone makes him giggle, holding you tightly against himself, your face get dangerously close to his, "so you would've say yes? Look at you y/n, all confident to talk back to me."
Cheeks getting red, makes him just more giggly and happy, because he knows that his friends are looking right at the end of the hall, where they can see how much he has you under his power. The deal with them is simple: fucks her, bring a proof and the proof can only be her underwear, dirty of his sperm.
In his head he already created the perfect occasion for that, how to make you beg for him, to gets on your knees just because of him. Just the thought of taking your virginity makes him hard, he clear his throat, "so wanted to ask you for, another lesson. maybe somewhere else, you know.. not in the library."
You feel your body slightly tensing up, feeling your legs almost numb for his words, "where? I'm just.. see my schedule and see if I can make it."
"my house. today, after my practice." Your eyes goes wide open, your surprise make him giggle as he nods,"yes angel, my house."
"I said I need to check my schedule, don't.. don't hope too much."
"Oh but I know you're coming princess, you can't say no to me."
You know jisung's house like one of the most beautiful - also richest - spot in the city, his father is a really important manager for one of the biggest volleyball team in town. His parties are always big and always loud, nothing in compare to what you do on Saturday.
But you also know, that he never invites girls over, that something that a lot of girls - specially the female volleyball team - complains all the time in front of you instead of listening to the history lessons. The talk, and talk and talk about him, and the only occasions when girls can get in his house.. is to hook up.
And that's how you ended up in his room, waiting for him to finish his shower, a book in front of your eyes but your head fill with thoughts.
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"Simon says, tell me your dirtiest fantasy," he says clicking the pen in a almost rhythmic way, his eyes on your blushing. Because even if you're just a virgin, your head always fantasized about so many things. You guys are been studying for two hours now, he's overworked to let you talk for that long, when his only thought has been bending you over and take you right there. right now.
He try to push your to the limit until you spill it out, "okay, fine. fine I'll tell you," you mumble as he chuckle happily, his hand finish on your thigh, making you blush even more, "I think.. I think I like it rough. I mean, it's just an assumption, because I'm still a virgin."
"you know what I like?"
His question doesn't sounds like one, but you let him finish talk, his hand travels up and down from your knee to your inner thigh. Your skirt moves with his touch, "I like to make happy pretty girls like you."
Your cheeks get red as cherries just making him smirk like a cheeky kid that just had the answer that he wanted, "I think I.. could make you happy, angel, if you just.. let me." You can feel your heart bouncing in your chest when he starts to kiss your neck, his hand finds his way on your panties, feeling the wetness against the thin fabric.
"So fucking wet already."
You can't actually tell how you ended up on his bed, your thighs spread open and his face right between them. "jisung.. jisung please.."
Jisung chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. He takes a moment to tease you, licking and kissing your inner thighs before finally placing a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your swollen pussy lips. His tongue darts out to taste you, his lips parting yours with one swift motion. He starts by licking you labia before sucking on your clit gently, groaning in approval at the taste of you. "So sweet.. just for me."
"Oh my fucking god," You says breathless, your back arching just at the gentle touch of his lips against your cunt, it's incredibly good to feel.
Chuckling again, Jisung complies. He slides his hands up to your hips, holding you in place as he slowly pushes his tongue into your tight entrance. He groans as he feels how wet you are, his eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure. "Fuck.. you taste amazing - want more, give me more."
He breath heavily against your skin as he continues to pleasure you. He adds a finger to her tight pussy, stretching her slowly while sucking on her clit. "You like that?”
Every single movement gives you a wave of pleasure that makes you moan so loud that his brother down the hall probably heard you. You moves your hips against his face, needy for more of his wet and warm licks, “o-oh fuck i love it! m-more!”
Jisung groans as he takes in you desperate cries. He pushes your boundaries further, adding another finger in your tight slit. His tongue works overtime on your sensitive spots, driving you wild. He has no intention of stopping until she begs for his cock. “imma gonna make you cum so hard.”
He can feel you, feel your excitement growing. He moves his fingers faster inside of her, hitting your g-spot, rubbing his fingers against it to let her reach the highest pleasure possible while still sucking on your clit. Your juices taste so sweet and he just wants more. “Fuck, your pussy is so wet, you're my good girl aren't you? so good for me.”
Jisung moves from your pussy just to change position, letting you sits on his face, your blush is heavy. He grunts as you rides his face, your pussy juices dripping down onto his tongue. He reaches up to grab your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he continues to lap at your sensitive spots. “Fuck, you’re such a slut.”
You whine loudly as you try to keep it quiet, your hips are moving faster and faster trying to find the best friction possible. “i can’t wait to fuck you,” his muffled voice makes you clench around his fingers, he roll his eyes for pleasure.
“i want your cock in my mouth first.”
Jisung chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. He moves from under you, sitting right in front of your sore but still shaky body. His fingers moves quick on his jeans to unzip them down and to let his hard length free. He grabs you by the hair and pulls your head towards his cock. "You're such a dirty girl," he murmurs before pushing inside your mouth roughly.
You moan deep throating his cock as you look at him, you has tears on the sides of your eyes for the sudden moves and your saliva dropping down your chin. You never had a sensation like this, so filled. so big.
Jisung fucks your mouth roughly, his hips slamming against your face. He reaches down and starts to finger your wet pussy, adding another layer of pleasure to your already overwhelmed senses. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?"
You nods on his cock, closing your eyes to feel every inch of his dick deep down your throat, you clench lightly around his fingers but you starts to bounce in them desperately.
Jisung pulls out of your mouth and watches as you bounces on his fingers, eyes filled with lust. He slaps your ass hard, "You like this dirty stuff, don't you?” You find yourself squirming under his touch, almost purring like a cat for more attentions.
Feeling your walls clenching around his fingers, Jisung growls low in his throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth roughly, leaving your gasping for air. "wanna get fucked angel?"
"yes jisung, please."
Jisung chuckles as he spreads your legs wide, positioning himself at your entrance. He teases you by rubbing his tip against her slick folds before pushing inside. "You're so wet for me, just for me right baby? so wet.. just for my cock."
You nods gasping for air, your head moves backward as you moan louder, "f-fuck it's too big," you whine loudly when you clench around him, trying to adjust as quick as possible, his hands goes on your waist to lift you and let you stay on his lap, your faces are so close are you stare in each other's eyes.
Jisung's hands move to grip your hips more firmly, guiding your movements on his cock. He can't get enough of the sight of you bouncing on him, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. He watches you with hooded eyes, drinking in the sight of you writhing on top of him. "you’re taking it so good for me.”
"jisung.. oh j-jisung I wanna cum.."
Jisung tightens his grip on your hips, pushing himself deeper inside you. He groans in pleasure as he feels your walls clenching around him. "Oh fuck, baby. That's it. Keep riding me like that."
“a-ah! ‘m so close!” You says breathing heavily, your eyes half closed as your legs’s muscles are burning for tiredness but you are too desperate for an orgasm to stop. Jisung's thrusts become more forceful, matching her desperation. His hands move to cup her chubby cheeks, slapping them gently in time with their rhythm.
"God you're... you're so big.."
Jisung groans softly, his hips jerking forward as he tries to thrust deeper into you. He pulls away from your neck and kiss you passionately - almost desperately, your tongues dueling. "You make me so fucking hard." He holds onto your throat, pulling you onto his mouth to kiss you again.
"More jisung.. please more.." Jisung smirks, his thrusts becoming even rougher as he grabs you legs and lifts them up, holding them against the wall of your abdomen. He starts to bite down on your neck, his hips bucking wildly. "I love hearing you beg."
Feeling your orgasm, Jisung picks up the pace even more, he reaches down to rub his cockhead against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Jisung grunts, his hips bucking against you once more. He pulls out of you slowly and watches as a trickle of semen drips down your thigh. He smirks, his eyes fixed on yours. "Is that what you wanted, my pretty?"
Your blush makes him chuckle, nodding lightly as your squeeze your thighs again, breathing heavily and your expression of totally fucked. Tilting your head aside, hearing someone walking down the hall and your panicking expression just makes him more and more amused.
Jisung chuckles softly again as he looks at you still laying there. Then he tries to pull himself together and stand back up, only to moan softly as his legs are a bit shaky after everything that happened. “I know, right? It felt so good to know that someone could be right outside the door and could hear me making you beg like the little slut you are."
You hits playfully his chest as he lay right next to you, your body is incredibly sore, his arms slowly moves around your waist, pulling you against his chest. "Oh shut up."
"make me," he whispers teasingly in your ear, making you chuckle as he massage your hips with his hands, his head rest on your shoulder as you close your eyes, feeling your body slowly resting against the mattress. "are you sore?"
"yeah, I'm not even sure how I am managing to talk."
"get used to it," Jisung murmurs as he buries his face on your shoulder, "I'll do this, again.. and again.. and again." closing his eyes as you feels his breath getting more steady. Your eyes gets even heavier as you feel the warmth of his body curling behind you.
Something is sure though, he never lets the girl that he fucks in his bed after, not even for sleep.
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He had the perfect plan, exactly knows how and when to expose you and your no-more-virginity. He knows what he would say, even what he wanted to say.
So why now, that he's with his friends during the last practice of the week, he feels like a shit to talk about it? the balls are bouncing on the floor of the gym and his mind is just full of thoughts, mostly about you. That afternoon wasn't the only one, after that you guys started to be even closer, hanging out creating excuses with studying, procrastinating homework, a lot of love making sessions. His friends keep provoke him, asking for pictures of you after sex, every single sign of you two together. But he always respected you with this, because it's too much, he starts to like to feel you with him. Letting you sleep with him after, even cuddle and he's not a cuddler, it's just.. he feels and act different with you. It hurts, because he knows that soon or later he needs to talk with you about the challenge and the deal.
"So, did you fuck her?" His friend asked as he jumps for spiking the ball that he just sett in the perfect spot for him, Jisung groan nervously, he doesn't want to talk about it.
He doesn't want to because it felt too good to spill every single part of it, his focus are on the ball and how to serve on the other side of the court, getting ready for the match against y/n's brother. "oh, is someone too into her now?"
Another teammate tease him playfully, the spank on the ball gets louder, every time that it hits the ground jisung feels his blood burning in his veins, "shut up."
"did you fell for her?"
"love at first sight!"
"oh she probably do good blowjobs."
"should I try her now?"
"you took the deal too seriously now?"
Jisung serve the ball, hitting the floor with a loud sound that makes everyone stops whatever they are doing, because that wasn't just a serve. That was almost a punishment serve, "I said shut up, I did it for the deal, for the money. stop talking about it."
The thing that jisung didn't expect it was you, right on the corner of the gym, you were ready to talk to him and tell him how much you liked it, how much you loved slept in to his arms and waking up with him right beside you. How his kisses and his caresses made you feel alive, loved, desired, accepted. The way that the same morning you needed to sneak out from his house because he didn't wanted to let you talk with his father and his brother; "precaution." Yeah, precaution. Now you know, know you know why he didn't wanted it, why he didn't came to you this morning as he did for the last three months, he didn't smiled, he didn't waved. he didn't hugged you, he didn't try to steal a kiss from you. It was.. nothing. Like nothing happened.
The steps of your shoes echos in the hallway, jisung turn at the sound, he was sure that you heard, he knows it was you. His mind gets blurry and he let his volleyball, his team. Right now he doesn't care if he lose the practice, he doesn't care if he needs to train hard to beat your brother, he teased him enough.
You're crying, walking fast and almost not standing in your own feet, it was all a deal; all for money. You stop walking when you feel that your lungs are not functioning anymore, you feel your mind spinning. Your sobs are echoing in the hall as you sits against the cabinets, why he would do that?
Then the reality hits you hard, like a bullet in your chest.
"You."
You hiss when jisung enter in your sight, he stops his walking almost feel shaking, he knows that you're judging him now, "please let me explain-"
"you did it all because of a stupid deal! you did.. you did it to piss off my brother, because.. because you're gonna play against him next month. You.. You used me." The truth starts to pass in front of his eyes, because it's damn true.
"That was before," you can't even let him finish before stepping up from your spot, stomping a little to face him, your eyes are still tearing up and he can stop the urge to wipe your tears away. "before what? before what jisung?"
Your tone it's hard, and he feels like a kid that gets scolded, "before I started to like you." his hand try to reach your cheek but you spank it first. He's shocked by your gesture, it's not in you, is not something that you would do.
Not to him, not to anyone.
People starts to get out the classes, you are still in the middle of the hall as students stops to listen and more to watch the fight, "like me? you.. Han Jisung. like me, now this is another one of your tricks."
"y/n please calm down," his warm voice makes you almost trip in your thoughts, his hands finish on your shoulders and for a second you're back of the night before, when you went over at his place, when he was touching you so firmly for the first time.
"do not tell me to calm down! I don't wanna see you ever again." Jisung's heart almost breaks, people start to whispers and he see only you walking away from him, too distant. He doesn't like it, he doesn't want you distant anymore.
Jisung doesn't stop though, he knows that if he lets you walk out of his life now, you are never gonna be back to him. "angel, let *me* talk, let me explain."
"You had enough power over me."
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You moved.
Moved school, changed your way to be, you decided to cut everything that could remind you him. Jisung was and always be someone that took something to you, something that you wanted to keep safe and always for someone special. He was special, that's for sure, but you knew something like this would happen. So when you changed school to go in your brother's high school, you're not surprised of the amount of popularity that you started to have all of a sudden, because Chan never hide your sibling ship. He never lied to anyone about you. You started to officially be the little sister that he keeps close and tight.
Jisung broke you but you decide to grab the pieces that he left and create a new shape of you, getting out more, making friends and even hang out with boys.
Like now, that you're hand by hand with Hwang Hyunjin, walking inside on a party. Never expected about celebrating after Chan's team won the volleyball game against your old school, but going to an after party? That's wasn't in your plan.
"Com'on don't be so tense," Hyunjin whispers in your ear as he walks behind you, one hand in yours and the other placed on your hip, guiding you though the crowd of people from both of the schools. You don't pay that much attention of the house, but it's okay. You're there to have fun, just that. "I'm not tense!"
"Y/n, babe, I can see your shoulders moving up every single time you talk, don't close yourself I'll be with you the whole time."
"all the time?" you murmurs trying to search for a confirm, your eyes lands on his and his smile makes you feel less anxious. You don't want anyone see you like this, specially from Jisung's team, you're freezing scared just to think about them. To see his eyes again on you. "Let me get you a drink."
"She doesn't drink." His voice reach you fast, but the grab on your wrist it's tight enough to make you turn to his direction, seeing his mad face toward your best friend.
"Are you sure?" Hyunjin bark back, almost ready to pick up a fight with him just to defend you, your eyes run from one guy to the other, stepping back and clearing your throat enough to make both of them turn in your direction. "I don't need someone to talk for me, and I don't need someone to tell me what to do, I'm fine like this." They both back off from each other, walking in different directions.
You follow your friend, and as soon as you guys step inside the kitchen he burst into laugh, his hand over his mouth, "Oh my god! he was so mad!"
"you guys won today right?" You scoff chuckling and getting yourself a sip of water from the fridge, his eyes on you as he nods, your eyes travel down his chest lightly seeing the little open of his shirt. Some buttons are undone and that makes your cheeks grow red, "where are you staring angel?"
You take a longer sip that you expect as you shrug your shoulders, moving down the dress on your thighs with a shy behavior, it's clear that you're not usual to wear dresses, they are not exactly your type of dress code - in any way. The nickname that he gives to you makes a run of chills down your spine, sighing lightly, "nothing.. your.. your shirt. it's unbuttoned." He nods as he glance down his own black shirt, he chuckle lightly, "why don't you do it for me? I'm too lazy."
You roll your eyes as you leave the glass of water in the already full sink of glasses and plates, walking close to him enough for do this favor to him, "come closer, I don't bite." The tension between you two is building up quicker than you expect but his hands that travel from your waist to your hips, pushes you against his chest, your eyes are on his and you're that close to feel his breath against your face. His eyes are slowly closing, leaning for a kiss that you're to exactly refusing.
His eyes were cold on you. "y/n, with me." His voice kills the mood of the room, making you jump lightly backward with your cheeks red like cherries, "man, she can choose." his grip on your waist get tighter, you know he's not gonna let you go, but your instinct it's running away from both of them. Your eyes are on Jisung, his presence it's charming as usual.
"Not with you holding her that tight, let her go, she needs to talk to me." Hyunjin let you go with a grunt, he's not happy about it but you walk quietly toward jisung, his body shift and he turn towards the stairs. You follow him silently as your hand it's intertwine with yours, his touch it's still delicate with you. He lead the way to a specific room and then you recognize everything, every single second of it. His house.
You're back in Jisung's house.
"sorry I, I don't have that much time I'm with my brother and his friends so-"
"why did you left?" His voice it's not hard on you, it's almost hurt, if this topic it's hurting you more than you could expect, his head is down and you can totally smell the alcohol that leave his body, making you step forward to see if he needs some help with anything, anything. "needed to."
Jisung chuckle under breath, turning and facing you, he's close to tears as he moves one hand over his cheek bushing lightly his fingers over his chubby skin, "needed to? y/n, I feel.. I feel like breaking down every second that you're not near me, I cannot breath because you left. I wanted to run, run after you. Maybe chasing you is not the best idea but I.. I wanted you to stay. Please can.. can I touch you?"
His voice is a whisper the whole time, making your legs shakes, almost melting for his sweet talks - but you're too hurt for that. "You broke me, you took something from me, don't be the victim here." Your voice it's steady but inside you your heart is shaking as much as his hands are.
"I wanna touch you wherever he touched you just to prove you that I'm better," Jisung steps closer, his hands grabs gently your waist and his touch it's 100% better than Hyunjin's, you cannot lie. You're melting under his fingertips, he's massaging your hips so lightly that makes your breath die in your throat. "Jisung we can't."
He mumble something, but his mind it's too blurry for elaborate, he lean on your shoulder as he's eyes slowly close, he takes a deep breath of your sent. "if you.. just let me.. need you so badly baby."
Jisung's lips trace his face long the nape of your neck, his hands slowly moves on your ass grabbing your cheeks in a gentle squeeze, your hands goes between his hair as you start to breath heavily, "ji we are your party."
"Simon says, let me take the dress off." His whispers makes you shivers long your spine, biting lightly your bottom lip as you let his hands grab the hem of the dress, lifting it up easily in one smooth movement - he saw you naked before but his eyes on you always make you blush like a kid. "Simon says take off your pants."
Jisung's eyes light up when he see that you are okay with that, and his hands gets busy unzipping his pants and moving down enough to let your hard length free, "com'here angel."
His hands grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up from the floor and pushing you against the wall, you kiss him with pure passion and needs, his cockhead rubbing against the fabric of your panties.
"please fuck me Jisung," you mumble as his hand reach your panties, pulling them aside enough for him to penetrate you without a warning. Your breath catch your throat as you moan in silent, covering your mouth and laying your back against the wall, his hands grabs your thighs tightly as he moan deeply with his face buries against your neck, "fuck, so tight, thank you.. thank you baby.."
You moan shakily and his thrusts gets even more desperate, pounding in you roughly and fast, he groans and starts to pound into you, his hips slapping against yours. He holds onto you legs tightly, not wanting to lose contact with this feeling. His mouth finds yours again in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading you mouth as he takes what he wants. His pace quickens, his thrusts harder and deeper. Jisung's eyes are full of lust and desire for you.
"I love you."
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𐙚 tag list: @lyramundana
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katakaluptastrophy · 5 months
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You know how it goes: through some incredible circumstances, God and a young woman living under the shadow of an oppressive empire have a metaphysically unusual baby who grows up to be a general nuisance, won't stay dead, and sports a few additional holes...
It's the third Sunday of Advent and I'm a little concerned Bible studies for weird goth kids might be turning into a series... Let's talk about the Blessed Virgin Mary and Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity.
Wake was probably never described as "gentle", "meek", or "mild", but there are a few similarities: distinctive outfits, snazzy shrines, commitment to putting down the mighty from their seats, and of course babies with great and terrible destinies niftily conceived without sex.
On the topic of conception, let's clear up a common, uh, misconception: the term "immaculate conception" does not refer to Mary becoming pregnant with Jesus. It's Mary's own conception.
Why are we talking about how Mary was conceived and what does this have to do with lesbian necromancers?
To answer that question, we have to go back further still, way before Mary's conception. Back to these guys and their unfortunate snack cravings:
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Remember how last time we talked about the concept of being in a state of grace? Well, the Christian read on Adam and Eve is that a state of grace was, as it were, the factory setting for humanity. They were fully in tune with God, there was no sickness or death, there was no sin. Until, that is, the whole unfortunate business with the apple. The first sin. The world is fundamentally altered. Humanity is expelled from paradise, burdened with sin, death, disease, patriarchy, and work. Worse, this sinful human nature turns out to be sexually transmissible: every human being is born tainted by this "original sin" of Adam and Eve.
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This is why Catholicism is so big on baptising babies: even if they're many years off being able to commit any sins themselves (a sin has to be something consciously chosen and understood), they're still contaminated by that original sin of Adam and Eve. Baptism is understood to erase original sin, wiping the slate clean.
Bear with me, we'll be back to necromancers soon I promise. Have a picture of Mary beating up the devil while an angel holds baby Jesus:
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OK, but what does Adam and Eve's danger snack have to do with Mary's conception?
The "immaculate conception" refers to the idea that unlike every human being between Adam and Jesus, Mary was conceived without the contamination of original sin. The rationale for this is complex, but essentially boils down to something like the saving power of Jesus not being bound by piffling things like time and space and thus saving his mother before her own conception and allowing himself to also be conceived and born sinless.
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But the important bit is that something specific about Mary means that she is uniquely able to be pregnant with Jesus.
You may be starting to guess where this is going...
Because while unconventional pregnancy seems to have been the plan from the get-go for Jesus, it was not with the artist formerly known as The Bomb:
“I had the baby,” said Wake. “The baby I’d had to incubate myself for nine long fucking months, when the foetal dummies these two gave me died.”
“Oh, God, it was yours,” said Augustine, in horror. “I thought you’d used in vitro on one of Mercy’s—”
“I said they all died,” said Wake. “The dummies died. The ova died. Only the sample was still active, no idea how considering it was twelve weeks after the fact, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“So you used it on yourself,” said Augustine. “Anything for the revolution, eh, Wake?”
We have to assume the foetal dummies plan was hatched by Mercymorn, a brilliant scientist with a myriad of experience. If the problem encountered by Wake were as simple as Lyctoral infertility, I suspect Mercy would have spotted that long before.
But what do Wake and John have in common that Mercymorn or any of the other ova-having residents of the Mithraeum did not? They are both (to some extent at least) factory setting humans: unlike everyone else in the Dominicus system, they never died and were resurrected, nor are they the descendants people who were. John's abilities, while macabre, are not straightforwardly the necromancy otherwise practiced in the Houses. That necromancy is a direct result of one specific act of taking that resulted in the very nature of the world changing: a thanergetic system, inhabited by human beings who, necromancer or not, are fundamentally tainted by thanergy and by the after effects of that action of John's. You might call it a sin. An indelible sin. He does.
It's not an exact parallel, but necromancy certainly occupies a space not dissimilar to original sin: the result of a single action, tainting every descendant of its progenitors regardless of their actions of abilities.
And then enter Gideon, born in space away from the thanergetic energy of the Dominicus system to a mother lacking the 10,000 year intergenerational burden of the resurrection and necromancy. The child of Jod, born to die.
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faetreides · 2 months
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alsooo… food for thought! modern!coryo learning that you’re a virgin and what he’d be like when he gets to fuck you for the first time 😏😏
🍽️ SEND ME ASKS ABOUT CORYO, LUKE CASTELLAN, OR ANAKIN (THIS IS A THREAT)
CW: afab!reader, feminization/use of bride/reader's pussy is assigned she/her pronouns, extra extra political empire heir coriolanus snow in tears over pussy read all about it, fair amount of marriage talk, mentions of being willing to murder others & trap reader, mandatory sejanus mention, coryo puts on his person suit just for you <3, this is not the darkest point in the au but the au is "soft" dark content overall
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One thing about modern!coryo is that he gives you much more grace than some of his other friends would have. (Festus is "rumored" to be carrying multiple stds and Felix's family has a whole section in their budget just for child support. Sejanus is the only one in that group that's kind of normal by comparison.) When you start dating, he can tell that you're inexperienced at least; but the green-eyed monster always on his shoulder doesn't let him fully believe that you're a virgin.
He's... patient unlike most college boys. He's horny beyond comprehension, but he doesn't latch onto you like a leech after the first date (He's so kind 😊). Sure, there's a festering need sweltering under his skin and boiling his blood, but he's no strange to playing the long game. To him, every time he fucks you is going to feel like your wedding night (Cause he's in this for MARRIAGE). You're the only one he would use the phrase "making love" with. Before you, every other whore that hung off his dick was just there because he was high on his status (and a couple other things). He apologizes about being with others before you as if he were actively cheating on you.
He'd pay to have them disappear if you wanted.
Anyway.
He finds out in a benign way; you're making out on your creaky twin bed in your dorm. (You hadn't moved in together at the time, so he had to settle for his long limbs awkwardly knocking against the wall and nightstand every time you were getting intimate.) He keeps the kiss going as he rises up on his knees and nudges you on your back. He shoots his hands out under your body to catch you just in case (and so you can't leave).
"Wait….” You say and bury your hands in his hair to try to pry his mouth off of your neck, “Coryo, stop. I need a second."
He almost pouts but he relents and moves back to hover over you. Some of his curls dangle down and tickle your face but you just scrunch your nose up like a bunny at the feeling.
His brow furrows in confusion, "What is it, baby? Are you okay?"
You squirm under his body for a moment in embarrassment until you decide to just rip the band aid off. You run your hands up his torso and over his shoulders, curling them around the nape of his neck and giving him the little head scratches he likes. His eyes flutter shut as electricity shoots up his body.
"I'm uh...... I've never done this before, ever." He barely hears it with how quietly you whisper.
He can't help teasing you in response, "Baby, you can just say that you're a virgin if that's what you are."
He chuckles when you "playfully" smack him in the chest. Coryo makes sure you can watch his gaze soften as he brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You've given him a gift, and Coriolanus Snow is nothing if not an avid appreciator or gifts. He leans down to rub the side of your nose with his, bringing his other hand down to press on your lower belly.
"Petal... I don't care that you're a virgin, we don't have to do anything today. I won't mind, don't worry."
He can see your brain working hard to make a decision, the cogs in your cute little head turning. You don't bite you lip for very long (which is a good thing because his dick was about to explode) before you're canting up to kiss him.
You've gotten a lot better at it overtime, and Coryo has adored every second of helping you get to that place. He's never been in love before so it's almost like you're teaching him new things too. He wonders if this is how his father felt, only having room in your heart for one person and closing it to everything else. He almost can't blame him, now that he's got you.
It was all going so well until he's wrestling your lace down your smooth legs, he's pressing tiny little pecks along your skin as your underwear travels. He doesn't quite take them off and just leaves them pooled around your ankles. The material stretches as he slides his hands up your inner thighs and spreads them.
You give him your best 'do NOT fucking rip my underwear' look but he just sends back an answering 'you know I'll buy you new ones.'
The puffy pussy that winks up at him makes him want to cry. Aphrodite could come down to earth right now and bend over right in front of him, but all he'd see is his future wife's glistening folds. He'd never really found a cunt cute before, but yours was bringing forward yet another wave of cuteness aggression. You have no hope of getting through to him once he's got his thumb hooked under your hood. He honest to God coos as he gently scrapes his thumb nail against your clit.
The giddy laugh that bubbles up when you involuntarily kick at him makes your cheeks heat up in what is unfortunately not embarrassment.
"Shit." He sniffles and wipes away an actual tear as he tilts his head to the side to get a different angle, "She's beautiful..."
It's the same tone he'll have when he says his vows.
Coryo then decides that he's tired of waiting so he tugs your panties off your ankles and uncaringly throws them somewhere on the floor. He smiles and lays down in between your legs, leaving some space in between your bodies so he could see where you two will be joined.
His curls hang in your face again as he leans down to nip at your nose, so you won't really notice when he shoves his pants down.
You can't hide how much you want to see all of him, he watches you glance down at his hard cock that slapped against his stomach as it flopped free. Despite Coryo obviously not having the biggest build in the world, the third leg he's been apparently carrying around all this time is more than enough for him (and for you). It's an angry sort of purplish red, thick and long like his fingers with a mushroom head that might as well have been calling your name.
"My eyes are up here, you know." He chides you as he gets your attention back on him by shaking his hefty cock in his balled fist, getting drops of salty pre cum on your pussy before sandwiching it between your folds.
He blissfully sighs and tosses his head back as if he were a king celebrity a long-awaited victory with a toe-curling fuck.
Essentially, he's like "fresh pussy just for me 👉👈🥺?” He's sat right at the dining table and ready to dive into his favorite three-course meal (your holes).
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carolmunson · 1 year
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the nerve.
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virgin!eddie x reader, semi-modern AU, it's the very early 2000s (early enough that the phantom menace would have already come out in 1999, but cellphones weren't really a thing yet.) i feel like we've been on a toxic!eddie train for a little so here's a little love drunk baby boy (in his late 20s) whose been about you for ages but the timing wasn't right. now you're together and it's time, but he's real nervous. this fic is mostly from eddie's point of view, so, hopefully you bitches like that. super fluffy, smutty, sweet. cute. tooth rotting even. warnings: smut, minors dni. couples first time, virgin!eddie, p in v, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving).
Eddie's hands are sweating when he pulls up to your house. A small little one bedroom he's been in so many times before -- cozy and soft, like you. You never have the overhead lights on, except for in the kitchen. Always opting for something warm and glowly, decorative. You told him a story once about how women used to put pink lightbulbs in their house so they'd look younger and he never forgot it, so now he tells people that story and says he learned it from you.
You hadn't been dating long, but he feels like he's been with you forever. You come so naturally to him -- years of friendship will do that to a person, he guesses. Spending those years watching you be with someone else, someone he didn't really know very well -- different town, someone you used to know in college with Nancy. When you showed up to Steve's after the break-up he was almost relieved but he felt awful about it. Feeling giddy while you cried into Nancy's shoulder and Robin rubbed your back. You thought you were gonna marry that guy -- how?! He didn't even like your favorite movie! He didn't even know how you liked your pancakes! Or how you lie about what your favorite song is depending on who you're with! (It's a tie between Nina Simone's 'New Day' and The Beatles' 'Blackbird' in case anyone was wondering.)
Getting here, coming to your house for dinner dates, taking you out, holding your hand, that was an easier task than what was to come. But it wasn't an easy road to get here for him either. He wasn't really great at the whole girls thing.
It's why he was was still blushy and nervous the night you came over to Steve's for a movie night. You all got snowed in. He knew you liked him and you knew he liked you but you weren't sure if you 'like' liked each other -- you'd never said. Neither of you had.
He stopped breathing when you'd sat next to him, sinking into the cushions of Steve's large L-shaped sectional with your knees brushing. Steve casting glances over at Eddie to implement at least one trick he taught him to get close to you. 'If she doesn't do it back then you know it's not happening, it's that easy.' It's that easy? He'd rather die than make a move and have you not be into it.
You were half way through The Empire Strikes Back when he noticed Steve knock Robin on the knee with his. Robin looked over at the two of you, knees and shoulders touching, hands to yourselves. Her lips curled into a mischevious smile when she realized what her partner in crime was asking from her.
"Hey," she whispered over to you, offering you a peach ring from the bag, "Want one?"
"Ooh, thank you," you whispered back. 'They're my favorite.' He thinks it as you say it to her, he knows they're your favorite, that's why he always picks them up at the gas station before he shows up to these things. The crinkling of the bag gets Nancy's attention and she casts a glance up at Steve from where she's settled in the crook of his arm. They share knowing looks, shaking her head while her attention goes back to the screen.
"You want one, Ed?" she asks, except this time her hand is much farther away, resting on the back of the couch so that he'll have to reach behind you to get one. Eddie looks at her, eyes begging, 'you're kidding'. Her eyes glint back in the glow of the TV, 'I'm not kidding.'
"Yeah, sure," he says shakily, reaching across the back of the couch. If you know what he's doing, you're not letting on and that's fine with him. He grabs the candy, popping it in his mouth and letting his arm rest behind you at first -- heart pounding while he moves it downward enough so that you can feel him drape himself around you. He can't look at you at all while he does it, terrified that you might be disgusted by him even attempting to be close to you.
He swallows when you turn to him, your knees pressing up to his thigh when you shift your hips towards him, feet tucking up onto the couch. Eddie turns slowly to see you looking up from his shoulder, eyes shining with a smile.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey," you say back in a whisper, inching your face a little closer to him, "Can you tell me what's happening?"
He lets out an airy chuckle through his nose, "I always forget you haven't seen these, sorry we started with the second one."
"So, right now," he starts, pointing at the screen, "Harrison Ford's character--"
"Anakin," you say, certain of your answer.
"No," Eddie laughs.
"Qui-gon Jinn," you offer, as a new answer. "Oh my fucking God," he laughs, running a hand over his face in disbelief. He looks at you, toothy grin and all, "You don't know who Harrison Ford's character is, but you know the name Qui-gon Jinn?"
"It's very memorable," you say softly, laughing at yourself. He loves that about you -- you're very confidently wrong sometimes.
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, "That's like, in the newer movies -- he's not even in the ones from the 80s."
"Oh -- is it Obi-wan?" you ask, "Or Luke?"
"You know you're the assistant editor for the Culture section, right?" he asks, his face inching closer to yours, "How do you not know about film culture?"
"More like nerd culture," you huff back, rolling your eyes. When you turn your attention back to the screen he feels you settle into the crook of his waist, scooching yourself closer to him. His hand falls to your shoulder, unsure if he should hold you the way Steve holds Nancy -- arm wrapped around with a hand resting on her hip. That might be better for another day when he was feeling more confident.
Your head finds a home on his shoulder and part of his chest, your hair smells like Herbal Essences and he only knows that because he started buying it recently. He holds his breath for a moment while you get comfortable against him. Eddie eases himself against you, hand around your bicep to pull you in closer.
"Harrison Ford is Han Solo," he says to the top of your head.
"No, he's Obi-wan," you mutter defiantly, brushing off his answer.
"Sure," he laughs, "You're right, he's Obi-wan."
He kissed you in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed and you both stayed up talking over a six pack. You tasted like peach rings.
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Once he parks in the drive way he gives himself a mini peptalk all the way to your door. It's not like it was your first date, which he'll admit went really well, but this was the date. You both felt it. With every kiss getting more feverish, every makeout getting more and more hot and heavy, every wandering hand and mouth -- he was gonna have sex with you tonight.
Which would have been fine.
If he wasn't a virgin.
He'd gone over and over it again with Steve. Tips, help, tricks, reassurance -- but all of it made him feel even more inexperienced. It took him three years to graduate high school and he wasn't exactly the most popular guy there. No one caught his eye when he threw himself into work at the auto-shop, even less at the craft store full of old ladies, and even less at the comic book shop where all he was, was surrounded by other vigrins who were ten years younger than him.
He was always too nervous to talk to girls at The Hideout or other bars his band played at. They were almost always more into Jeff and Gareth anyway. Smooth talking, suave, more confident with age -- he felt like he was behind. Regressing, even. More focused on his hobbies, his friendships, more focused on you. How you'd talk about work and whether you wanted to move closer to the city. How you'd hang out at the bar with him after a gig and listen with bright eyes while he told you what was coming next for the band. How you'd ask about the next campaign for the store's D&D club. Even if you didn't get it, you at least tried. Anakin, Obi-wan, Qui-gon Jinn.
He knocks and rings the bell, he can hear the thump! of Brutus, your old gray cat, jumping from the couch down to the floor getting ready to greet him. You appear, flushed and smiley, some of your hair stuck to your cheeks with sweat.
"Hi, sorry, the kitchen's kind of hot -- didn't get a chance to y'know -- get my shit together," you say, while the door opens. He swears his heart is going to come out of his mouth out of these days with how it rises in his throat when he sees you.
"You look pretty," he says, shrugging off his jacket when he steps inside. You press a kiss to his cheek but it's not enough. With his coat still in his hand he catches you with the free one, stopping you before you head back to the kitchen, to kiss your lips.
"Hi, baby," he says quietly. You grin, eyes downcast to the floor.
"Hi."
"How was work today?" he asks, finally stepping away to hang up his coat in your closet by the door. Brutus follows him with scraggly 'meows' and 'rahhs', weaving through his boots to get his attention.
"Work was worky. Nancy's bummed she didn't get that promotion but she'll be alright," you scrunch your nose in sympathy for Nance, drying your hands off on your jeans.
"She's got bigger things going for her anyway," Ed says, bending down to scratch Brutus behind the ears. The cat nuzzles his hand with a pleased purr, following him who was following you back into the kitchen. He looks at the pots and pans boiling and simmering, the light on in the tiny oven. Your kitchen and little and hasn't been updated since the sixties but you told him you prefer it. 'S'part of my charm,' you'd say. He thought all of you was charming.
"This is a lot, baby -- you didn't have to do all this," he pleads. He hates when you over work yourself, and you do it all the time. 'I just wanna impress you,' he thinks your response as you say it because of course you do.
"Everything you do impresses me," he murmurs, coming up behind you while you massage arugula for a side salad, "But I would've been more impressed if you called a pizza joint and placed an order."
"I can't make a phone call," you laugh, "I think it would kill me. I think I'd have a heart attack."
"Which is why I'm saying it would've been more impressive if you ordered a pizza," he says into your hair, leaning his head on your shoulder, "What can I do to make this easier for you?"
"Will you just set the table for me?"
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Dinner was delicious. You made it for him, so of course it was. He likes this, snuggling on the couch, laying long ways, Eddie's head on your chest with your hands gliding through his waves. His eyes are fluttering closed and open again while the graze of your nails glides over his scalp. He totally gets why Brutus begs for scratches behind the ears -- this must be exactly what it feels like.
The hum of 'If I Only Had A Brain' leaks out of the TV speakers. This was culture you knew -- you'd seen The Wizard of Oz a hundred times over. He knows it's not your favorite movie, but it's up there, it's close. Your favorite movie is Grease and you don't lie about that to anyone. You got John Travolta's autograph once and framed it when you were little, he remembers you telling him that when you were drunk at karaoke. You sang 'Hopelessly Devoted'.
Then you made him come up and sing Summer Nights with you. He wished he would've kissed you then, but you had a few drinks and he thought maybe you were just feeling flirty. That you didn't like him like that. You wanted to kiss him when he hit the end high note, it still makes your heart race a little when you think about it.
"This is so you," you say, the sleepy hum of your voice vibrates against his ear. He furrows his brow and looks up at you.
"Excuse me? If I only had a brain?" he inquires, hand crawling up to press against your face in a fake smack, "That's mean."
You laugh, it's a sound he wants to be the one to cause for the long haul, "I don't mean you don't have a brain, I mean like -- look at him move. He's such a goofball -- you're like that, you're goofy."
He rolls his eyes, "Okay."
"In a good way!" you argue playfully.
"Oh look, it's you," he teases when the Wicked Witch appears on screen with her green hands and sneering glare.
"Did you know that she actually --"
"Couldn't use her hands to eat or drink whenever she had the makeup on because it was toxic?" he finishes, shifting his body so he was caging you in under him. He uses his free arm to nudge you onto your back, both of your faces hidden by his sheets of dark hair, "You told me."
"Oh," you blush, "Sorry. I always forget who I tell my little facts to."
"No, it's okay," he says softly, leaning down to kiss you, "It's very cute."
"You're very cute," you say back when his lips break away.
"Stop," he says with a giggle. Always so boyish when he doesn't mean to be.
He lets out a sharp exhale through his nose when you lean up to kiss him again. The kiss is chaste and sweet, your legs parting so he can comfortably slot himself between them. He's come to learn how much you like that type of friction and closeness. You like loosely wrapping your legs around him -- it's a thought he has often when he's home alone and thinking about you.
You deepen the kiss, hands finding his hair, tongue snaking into his mouth. Somewhere deep in his belly comes a growl, hips pressing up against yours eagerly. The softest, 'mm!' squeaks out of you at the pressure and he can feel the gentle roll of your hips against him. His heart hammers in his chest -- oh fuck, we're gonna actually do it.
Eddie's eyes flick up to see Brutus on the lounge chair looking at him. He looks back at Brutus, green eyes shining into his brown ones -- it feels...judgemental.
"Could we maybe go somewhere that Brute can't see this? I feel like the spirit of your dad is inside him," Eddie asks, still keeping his eyes on the cat.
You let out an airy laugh through your nose, "Yeah, sure, c'mon."
Your room smells like you, so do your sheets, your pillows. He loved being engulfed like this, he didn't think he could be any more in love with a person.
You follow him in and watch him sit on the bed, eager faced and flushed. He gulps when you take your jeans off, followed by your sweatshirt and socks.
"I just wanted you to see -- surprise!" you cheer quietly, looking back at him. The set was burgundy, made of satin, shiny. Slightly frilled on the ends. Underwear cut high and perfectly laid over the curve of your ass. The cups of the bra in that old timey balconette cut. You bought it on purpose, you bought it for him.
"Oh fuck," he mutters to himself.
"I didn't know if you'd like black or red more so I sorta," you shrug, "Met them in the middle."
"I don't care what color it is," he breathes out, eyes glassy and blown, mouth completely dry. How could you talk so casually to him when you look like this? How could you act like this wasn't a really big fucking deal to have worn a set for him to see? With him in mind? Like, you thought about him while you bought this? His jeans feel tighter by the second. He leans back on his hands on your bed to take you in, "You look -- insane."
"In the good way," he quickly follows up.
"You like it?" you smile.
"I really like it," he nods, gulping again, begging his voice not to crack, "C'mere, let me look at you up close."
He watches you approach him and sits up slowly, hands coming out to caress you. He puts his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbs dragging over the fabric of the bra, drifting down to your hips where he leans forward to kiss the side of your tummy, another by your ribcage, a third on your sternum. He looks up at you afterwards, awaiting your lips when you lean down to kiss him.
"You're so pretty, baby," he mumbles against your lips, "You're beautiful."
He swallows when you get him on his back, biting his lip when you straddle him over his jeans. You take your hair down, he blinks hard to make sure he's not dreaming -- that you're really on top of him, really in lingerie, really looking like that.
"Shouldn't um -- shouldn't I be on top of you?" he asks.
"What do you mean?" you ask with a giggle, "You don't want me to be on top?"
"It's just, like," he sighs, letting his hands rest on the outsides of your thick thighs, "Aren't I supposed to be in charge?"
"You're not supposed to be anything, Ed," you reason, pawing up his chest until you were flat against him. You kiss him but he stays rigid, his mouth rubbery and unmoving.
"You okay?" you ask, his chest pangs.
"Uh, yeah," he says, shaking his head. He racks his brain for anything Steve might've told him, any porn he might've watched. Sure girls were on top but like, they didn't like that did they? Didn't they like being thrown around? Slammed? Fucked? What do you like? Shit, how was he supposed to figure this out? Especially with you grinding your hips like that, slow and teasing -- fuck.
You tug at his shirt and he uses the moment to pull it off, scooching you off him to take off his jeans. Regular, clean, tartan boxers. He wished he'd worn something sexier -- like boxer briefs or something -- something that didn't look so ridiculous with a hard on.
"So we're doing this, right?" he asks, climbing back on the bed and laying you down on the mattress.
"Only if you want to," you smile at him, reaching behind you to snap the bra off throwing it on the floor. All the light in the room was from a single three wick candle on your dresser on the back wall but even then he could see the curves of your chest. The shape of your body under him. Your head hits your pillow and he sighs, using one arm to steady him and the other to glide over you, from your cheek, down your neck, landing on the swell of your breast.
"You're so perfect," he says softly, eyes lingering where his hand was resting. He kneads it gently and smiles when it earns him a small gasp. Your legs part again and he uses his knees to part them further.
You look up at him, a little confused, but part your legs further anyway. He sits up, leaning back to take your arms and pin them against your chest, falling back into his previous position. He kisses roughly, you oblige but it doesn't feel like him.
He bites at your lower lip, hard enough that you let out a whine but he takes it as the go ahead. He lets his mouth wander, nipping down your neck in harsh love bites with nothing to follow up to soothe them. His hand snakes into your hair with a sharp tug.
"Ow," you whisper, but he doesn't hear it. Too busy trying to make sense of this in his head. Is he supposed to lick a stripe up your neck before or after he bites? Is it supposed to be closer to your jaw? Where did he even see this? This would be easier if he wasn't achingly hard.
“Hey, hey, stop — stop,” you say sternly. Eddie recoils immediately, sitting back on his heels and shrinking into himself with a deep blush you can’t see in the low light. His eyes sting with embarrassed tears, adams apple bobbing while he tries to swallow them down. His heart is beating so hard he think it might shoot directly out of his chest. And how awful would that be? First he ruins sex and then he just bleeds all over you?
“What’s going on?” you ask, pulling your blanket up from the end of your bed.
“I just — I’m doing what I thought you might like?” his voice his tight, like he’s holding back a cry, “Am I not doing it right?”
“Ed, I just want you to be yourself,” you sigh. You reach out to him but he slinks away before you can, "You're like, trying to be the DM version of you right now."
"Yeah but he's like, hot and confident," Ed shrugs, "I'm just...Eddie Munson, resident virgin."
"I wanna fuck Eddie Munson, resident virgin," you state plainly. His cock twitches, he thought he might even cum from hearing you say that.
"And you won't know what I like unless you ask me, don't just guess," you instruct softly. He let's you reach back out and touch him, pulling him down to lay next to you. His hand skates over your tummy and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close. The smell of your perfume and shampoo engulfs him instantly -- his brain had to be shutting down at this point.
"This is all about communicating," you assure, "Do you think you like it rough like that? Like how you were doing to me?"
"Um, I don't know," he lies, because he does like that. He thinks he likes doing it and he thinks he'd like it being done to him.
"I like it," you confessed, "Just not right now."
"Oh," he blushes, "You like when I'm rough? Just not all the time?"
"Exactly," you smile.
"So what do you like tonight?" he asks awkwardly, "Or what would you like tonight?"
"Soft," you say, pressing a kiss next to his lips, "And gentle."
You kiss him again, on the lips this time, "You."
With a newfound approach he leans in to kiss you, this he knows he’s good at because Steve overheard you tell Nancy that you ‘never got so wet from making out before’ and that it ‘made you feel like you were in high school again’. He gasps when you break away to kiss his jaw down to his neck, his hand traveling up to get entangled in your hair.
"I really like when you kiss me there," he pants out, eyes rolling when you reach a spot on his neck right above his collar bone, "Fuck."
"There?" you grin against his skin, letting your tongue run over it again before sucking on the spot eagerly.
"Fuck, yeah there," he whines, hips bucking against your thigh. You maneuver him again, crawling on top of him and he succumbs to letting you take the lead. Your hips do that deliciously evil grind over him again, and he can feel how dampened your panties are over his boxers. Each drag of your hips pulls his skin over the head of his cock, sending him hurtling closer to cumming than he anticipated. He reaches feverishly for your hips, holding you to a stop.
"Too much?" you ask. Fuck, why are you so cute?
"A little," he confesses, breaths getting heavy, hips twitching.
"Sorry, I just...I'm really horny," you whisper with a giggle, covering your face with your hand like a visor. He giggles back, shimmying down so your heat was directly over him.
"We can...you know," he says, reaching up to move your hand and place it on his chest, "We can do it."
"You sure?" you ask again.
"I'm sure," he assures, heart still thumping with nerves. He watches you lean over him, breasts directly in his face, knocking his nose, while you fish in your beside table for a condom.
"I brought some, they're in my --"
"Too late," you say, gold foil packet in hand, offering it to him while you sit back between his legs.
"You're too confident in me," he says at the sight of the Magnum XL wrapper.
"I promise I'm not," you laugh, "I've seen a lot of dicks."
You both pause.
"I mean...you...fuck, you know what I mean," you smack your hand to your forehead, "Let me shut the fuck up really quick."
He takes the condom from you and tugs down his boxers slowly, while you help him take them the rest of the way down. He sighs while he reaches down to pump himself a few times before slipping on the latex. He catches your eyes round out when you see it, your soft swallow of the saliva pooling in your mouth.
Maybe you weren't too confident in him.
It was a little tight, if he was being honest.
"I'm gonna be on top, okay?" you ask. He nods, looking at you while you slide off your underwear, nerves building in his throat. Adrenaline coursed through him like he just did a line, like he just played a show. Like you just kissed in Steve Harrington's kitchen. Like when you tasted like peach rings.
You kiss him while you get back over him, sliding over his length with your lips. Your thighs twitch when the rigidness of the underside of his cock runs over your clit.
"Ooh, fuck yes," you mutter to yourself, face crumpling with pleasure.
"That's good? You like that?" he asks, hands resting on your hips while you continue toying with yourself over him. You nod, knowing you're wet enough to take him without foreplay, which will be a different conversation for a different day.
He squirms when you take his cock by the base, guiding the tip to your entrance. "Oh, fuck, fuuuuck me," he gasps while you start sinking down on him, "Jesus fucking Christ. Shit."
He watches you sink all the way down to the base, bodies meeting again. He feels you press your weight on your hands on his chest, eyes rolling when you adjust your hips, walls tightening over him.
"Baby, I -- you're -- Jesus," he gasps, a soft groan follows suit. "Oh my god, oh my god," he hears you whine, eyes begging when he looks up at you.
"Are you okay?" he asks, nerves overriding his pleasure, "I'm sorry."
"No, no, I'm okay," you breathe out, "It's just you, fuck, you feel so good."
"I -- I feel good?" he asks, "I'm making you feel good?"
You nod over him, hips dragging up slowly and then back down, little soft gasps and moans coming out of your mouth when you lean your head back. He watches you in awe, light bursting behind his eyes and sparks going off in his belly while you pick up the pace.
"I'm -- oh my god -- I'm not doing -- shit -- I'm not doing anything," he admits, "How am I -- oh god, oh god --"
You slow down, resolving to grinding your hips slowly to answer him, "You don't have to do anything, you just...you fit like, perfectly in me."
He grabs a pillow and covers his face so you don't see him smiling like an idiot, "Are you saying I have a nice dick?"
You laugh and it sends vibrations down his shaft to his sac, his hips jump involuntarily. He feels you reach for the pillow and he grips it harder.
"C'mon, let me see you," he hears you say, relenting when that soft coaxing tone comes out of your mouth. You tuck the pillow off to the side, still sitting there with him inside of you. He puts his hands on your hips, sliding them down your thighs and then back up again.
He mumbles gently, "Can't believe you're here with me."
"I can," you smile, hips rising and falling again.
"Shit," he gasps, fingers pressing hard into the fat of your hips and back to your ass to steady you. He blanks out his mind, shaking out whatever Steve said, whatever porn he watched, whatever he read online. He lets you keep riding him until he sees stars and on instinct he wraps him arms over your hips to keep you in place and pull you to him.
"Want me to slow down?" you gasp out.
"No," he grins, planting his feet on the mattress. He bucks up into you, once, twice, three times until he gets a steady rythym. You feel like fucking heaven, and you sound like it too.
"Oh fuck, Eddie," you whine out, it's high pitched and needy. He grunts in response, chasing his high while your tits bounce in his face.
"Oh my god, oh fuck that's -- that's so good," you gasp, the end coming out in a yelp. Your nails did into his shoulders and he hisses in response, the pain feels good -- he makes a mental note of that to go back to later.
His thrusts slow as he feels himself getting closer to the edge, taking it away from him as he eases up. He wants this to last forever -- he can't even believe he's lasted this long.
"You good?" you ask, taking his face in your hands. He smiles, it's stupid, pussy-drunk.
"M'good, I'm so good," he says softly, "I wanna be on top now."
"Oh, okay," you chuckle out, "Let me just--"
You raise up off him and he whimpers at the feeling of you leaving. The cold air hitting his cock, his chest -- he feels exposed. You lay back on the mattress, legs open and spread for him while your hand travels down to rub lazily at your clit.
"You can't be serious," he whispers, "That's so hot."
"Me touching myself?" you ask.
"Yeah, you -- shit, you're a like a high preistess or some-something," he says, eyes wide with wonder while your hips squirm. He feels stupid after saying it, mentally scolding himself. You're such a fucking loser, Munson.
"Can you um," he takes a deep breath while he steadies himself between your legs, lining himself up with your opening, "Can you keep doing that while I -- do this?"
"Yeah," you nod, a whimper coming out of you when he pushes in. His body knows what to do but finding a rythym is hard at first. The caveman in him wants to just go for it, jackhammer you until he cums. He starts like that, hard and fast thrusts, grunting and moaning like an animal, hips smacking against the backs of your thighs -- but he can hear Steve in his head.
'Start slow and work your way up, try different angles -- when you feel her like...I don't know -- gush? That's when you know you're hitting it right.' 'Gush?" 'Yeah, gush. You'll know what I mean when you finally do it.'
He takes your legs, pressing them up against your chest -- a position he's definitely seen in porn. But the normal kind. The real couples kind. The kind where they're definitely in love. He readjusts, sliding back into you slowly, he smirks to himself when your eyes roll back, arms falling back to your ears.
Then he feels it.
The gush.
"Ed that feels so good," you whine, tears pricking your eyes, "You're doing so good, baby."
Eddie gasps, cock twitching wildly at the praise. His face gets white hot, biting his lip, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
You catch his reaction, letting yourself get louder for him.
"You're such a good boy, Ed," you coo between moans, "You're so good for me."
"So good," he rasps back, hips starting to snap erratically.
"Oh baby, shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum -- m'gonna fuck -- cum," Eddie grunts out, laying flush against you while he finishes out hard and fast. He groans into your ear while you feel him spasm over you and inside you, riding out his orgasm until he comes to a stop. He takes a shaky breath but he doesn't get up, his chest and shoulders continue to shake, he sniffles.
He's crying.
"Oh, no, Eddie -- baby are you okay? What's wrong?" you ask, running your hand over the back of his head. He lifts up slowly, looking at you and your concerned face, your kiss bitten lips.
It makes him want to cry more, "Oh angel, I'm sorry. I'm not sad I --"
"I just love you so much," he sniffles, laughing at the ridiculousness of this, face already wet with tears, "I love you and I've never like -- felt close to anyone like this before. M'sorry for crying. I know it's stupid --"
"It's not stupid," you smile, pulling him to your chest, "I love you, too."
He laughs again, "Do you think I'm some loser virgin for crying?"
He sighs at the feeling of your nails against his scalp again, his body still so sensitive with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"No," you smile, "Especially not a loser virgin. Since, you know, you're not anymore."
"I guess you're right," he says into your neck.
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In the light of the three wick candle on your dresser, you both continued you lay there, naked and wrapped up in each other on your bed. You've switched around, your head on his chest and his hand stroking your hair.
"Do you uh," he starts, "Did you cum?"
You shake your head no, "I didn't, but that's okay."
"No, don't say that," he huffs, "Steve said that girls say 'it's okay' but that it's actually not."
"Psh, you really listen to everything that Steve says?" you argue.
"Well yeah, he's -- you know, he used to get girls before him and Nance were official," he says, "He wouldn't lie to me."
"Well I'm not lying to you either," you say, leaning on your side to look up at him, "It's okay."
He squints down at you, "I don't believe you."
With you on your side, he gets up on his knees again, hands finding your hips to lay them back on the bed.
"What're you doing?"
"I said, I don't believe you," he repeat, leaning down to kiss your stomach, your hip bone, the top of your pubic bone, "So I'm gonna make you cum."
"You're really confident," you say while he opens your legs to get between them.
"You think I can't?" he asks, a small frown falling onto his face.
"No, I'm sure you can," you urge, "I'm just saying, you sound really confident."
"It's sexy."
"Sexy?" he asks with a grin, kissing the inside of your knee, "I'll take it."
He looks down in the low light, your pussy still slick and glistening, still slightly puffy from earlier. No wonder guys ventured down here so often -- you looked delicious.
His fingers graze your inner thighs, making you shiver. His eyes meet yours, a devilish smirk dancing over his features, "Do you like that?"
"M'just excited," you blush, grabbing the pillow from earlier to cover your face. Eddie gets to work, laying down on his stomach, letting his lips slip and slide against your inner thighs before licking a thick flat stripe up through your lips. Your whine is loud enough to leak past the pillow, your hips grind slowly up against his mouth.
This was a skill he felt good about. He'd only done it once before a couple years ago during a really drunk hook up in the city, but he definitely didn't hear any complaints. And he figured, if he was a good kisser he had to be good at like...kissing pussy? That's how he thought about it at least.
His tongue traveled wherever he could let it go. Into your opening, against your lips, up and over the hood of your clit. He listened to your breathing, how your hips would react, the tensing in your thighs, trying to see where you liked it the best.
"Up a little higher," you instruct, pillow discarded, leaning on your forearms to look down at him. Your eyes meet and he melts, nodding while he moves up, waiting for your okay. He reaches up, the gods of cunnilingus speaking to him while he does, and pulls back the hood of your clit to lave his tongue over it.
"Ohmygod," you whisper out, head falling back on its hinge, "Don't stop."
"That's really hot," he croaks out to himself, looking at the expanse of your body above him, your exposed neck. He didn't mean to say it out loud. Fucking christ, he sounds like a teenager. He busies his mouth so he stops talking, sucking gently over you while your hips grind in time with his work.
"You can -- mm -- you can use your fingers, too," you tell him while your hand comes down to entwine in his hair. Eddie's eyes flutter closed, the gentle tug when you hit the right spots sends him reeling. His other hand comes up, tongue still flicking in alternating rhythms over your clit. He lets one finger slide in without resistence and then another -- Steve always said something about using two, but he doesn't remember, he just remembers 'curl upwards'. He pumps slow at first, your moans are getting to him, the sound hitting him right in his pelvis. The tightness of your walls around his fingers feels just as good as it was around his cock.
"Oh just like that, just like that, fuck," you gasp out. The praise sends him into a frenzy, hooking his fingers up to feel a different texture than before -- spongey, rigid.
But that's what it happens -- more than a gush. A flood, all over his fingers while your walls clench down hard on him. Hips rising off the mattress while you cum for him, whimpers and whines pouring out of your mouth.
"Easy, baby, easy," he giggles, free hand gripping your hip to ease it back down, "I got you."
You steady your breathing on the bed, feeling him detach from you, pressing soft kisses back up your tummy to your chest.
"You okay?" he asks gently.
"How," you breathe in, and out, "Did you get so good at that?"
He shrugs, "I dunno, just sort of winged it. Was I really that good?"
"You were really that good," you nod, "I came really hard."
"Fuck yeah," he nods to himself, still not realizing that he's thinking out loud, "Sick."
"Sorry," he says with an embarrassed shake of his head. You sit up, pecking him on the lips in a silent 'I love you,' and go to your dresser to throw on some pajamas. He reaches down off the bed to slide on his boxers, pulling his shirt over his head. You meet in the middle of the room and he can't help but hold you to him, feeling closer to you than he ever has. Magnetized, like you're meant to be touching at all times.
"I made brownies," you say, "They're already sliced up and in the microwave. Figured we wouldn't have time to get to dessert, so -- I prepped ahead of time."
"Is it lame to say I already had dessert?" he asks, a boyish grin showing off his teeth.
"Yes," you reply with a smile, "It is."
"Do you wanna watch Grease with me?" you ask while you walk to the door, warm light pooling into the room as you open it.
"Are you gonna say every line as it's being said like you always do?" he responds, following you out of the room, trying not to trip on Brutus who is scurrying past his feet to sleep on your bed.
"Of course I am," you say confidently, going to the kitchen to take out the plate of covered brownies in the microwave above the fridge. He takes them from you, placing them on the counter while he grabs two small plates from the cupboard above your head.
"Then I absolutely want to watch it with you," he smiles, a genuine full smile. Steve is gonna lose his fucking mind when he tells him.
Eddie Munson, resident virgin loverboy.
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calisources · 1 month
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𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒, 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences have been taking from different media and literature, movies and more regarding the topic of mistresses and favorites, mostly in the setting of royal court but can also be adjusted to other time periods. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit. Some of these include foul language, so beware. Implications of cheating are also in these.
You are my king, Niko, and I need you.
Everything I say is obeyed; everything I want is given to me.
You are such hard work to seduce, Niko.
She wanted to sit ON him, not next to him.
Never underestimate the power of a woman's intuition.
Behind every great king, there is a great queen. And behind them, there is a mistress.
The King is allowed to have as many favorite as he pleases.
A queen is never without her secrets.
A woman's beauty is her greatest weapon, use it wisely.
Rules are meant to be broken, especially by queens.
Queens do not beg for love, they command it.
Have as many bedwarmers as you wish, but I am your wife and you will not humiliate me.
A queen's grace can disarm her enemies.
He will grow tire of you, as he does with the others.
Having an ugly mistress is therefore a fatal mistake.
When a man takes a mistress, he doesn't turn around and divorce his wife.
Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts.
But a mistress can do interesting thing with food. Shall I describe them?
You will come back to the castle with me.
I-I'm not your responsibility.
You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. 
Your Grace---I am a virgin.
I realize that, and it pleases me. You do not doubt that I can be gentle with you?
They say you grow tire after the first night. No mistress last longer than a night with the king.
I know what you are trying to do, but do not think to take the King away from me. Let him play with you.
Done being sore yet, by chance?
From a mistresses’s perspective, taken men are low maintenance. All they want is sex, sex, sex. 
Do not take it harshly. It’s only flesh. And a body wants what it wants.
Kings have mistresses, Queens have secrets and they die with them.
To be the mistress of a married man is to have the better role.
The role of a mistress if make a man’s mood change and send him happy to his wife.
Don't be mad at a hoe for doing what she does best, besides it's not her that owes you that loyalty.
It was not a request. I will take you to bed and make you mine.
My wife has no interest in my bed, butb I assure you, my bed has interest in you.
 Wives are young men's mistresses, companions for middle age, and old men's nurses. 
I don't want her to know the truth about us.
They know about us and they do not care. My wife does not mind to share.
As long as I do my duty, I am allowed to do who I please.
This absurd jealousy.
A mistress should be like a little oasis, refreshing and exciting, away from the mundane realities of life
The bedchamber is where political alliances are sealed, and where empires are born.
A king may rule a nation, but a woman's allure can conquer the king.
Behind every great king, there are the whispers of his mistresses.
The allure of a mistress lies not only in her beauty, but in her ability to manipulate.
A mistress must be both lover and confidante, juggling passion and secrecy.
In the court of kings, a mistress can become more powerful than a queen.
He is one of his favorites, and everyone knows it. You must become his favorite too.
In the arms of a mistress, a king can escape the weight of his crown.
I want more than this. You cannot offer me more than secret meetings and a warm bed. People whisper.
You can be my wife here. 
If I desire to marry someone else, would I be allowed or you would not let me?
I'll take you as my only mistress. I won't have a thought or an affection for anyone else.
I call Mary my English mare, because I ride her so often.
He cannot give you his true heart... for *I* have that in my keeping.
You can't have 3 people in a marriage!
Seduce me. Write letters to me. And poems, I love poems. Ravish me with your words. Seduce me.
You've taken her honor!
I swear to your grace, someone else was there before me.
They say all his liaisons are soon over. He blows hot, he blows cold.
Sometimes I believe you will grow tire of me. But then I find you here in my bed.
If I cannot please the King, will he kill me?
You must not touch me, for Caesar’s I am.
Everyone knew she was his queen and wife in anything but name.
You will have this orgasm if it’s the last thing I do.
What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced.
I will not be the laughing stock of the realm. A woman who can only be a lover, never a wife.
I found her a very beautiful young woman with a very sweet and yielding disposition, She confessed to great admiration for Your Majesty. Should I, arrange ...?
If you put the Queen aside for this affair, the kingdom will fall apart.
If you seek Your Grace, you know where to find him.
I trust his mistress more than I trust any man on this table.
My husband is extremely jealous. Wants me sent to a nunnery.
I am with child. It is His Majesty's child.
Slow down so I can see how you do it.
Think of this as training. For your future husband’s pleasure. And mine.
should like to be your wife in every way.
I was wondering if you'd like to become my mistress.
You like to board other men's boats.
You know perfectly well what the King desires and what he shall have.
I saw with my own eyes how attentive he is to you.
My only satisfaction is that in frustrating you, I hasten your fall from the King's good graces.
Any man is weak against a maiden’s magic. Alluring and sweet. Like spring.
I make you this promise. When we are married, I will deliver you a son.
I have yet to decide whether to make your bedmate a head shorter.
So you can have your lovers and I have my own, but at the end, we return to one another. 
If you are not careful and a bastard is conceived, you will be ruined.
Everything will change for her. That kiss is her destiny and fortune.
So, what about this girl, this putain, the king's whore? Why doesn't somebody just get rid of her?
Have any of the women you've bedded with lied about their virginity?
Pretty, witty Nell, don’t forget you are mine until I say so.
Do you seriously expect me to be the first Prince of Wales in history not to have a mistress?
I will teach you many things, how to please a man and in turn, you will be my eyes and ears in court.
I thought you wished for us to be over.
How can I when you plague my mind at every turn.
Let me have you, at least once. Many women would consider it an honor.
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thecouchsofa · 6 months
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thecouchsofa's Drarry Mount Rushmore
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Born from a conversation with @mallstars a few weeks back. Behold, my badly edited personal Drarry Mount Rushmore aka my Roman Empire fics aka fics that live in my brain so deeply I should start charging them rent.
Links under the cut!
Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered (153k, T)
Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.
Cut From the Sky by @mallstars (150k, E)
"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today."
Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry.
"Ah," said Draco, "and?"
Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by Faith Wood (37k, E)
Even though he's unarmed, injured, lost in the Forbidden Forest, and facing a possible murder charge, Draco Malfoy gets lucky.
Heartlines by @shiftylinguini (72k, E)
Harry never expected he’d end up chipping away at his virginity while wandless and bonded to Malfoy in Northern Europe.
He never expected that would turn out to be the least surprising thing to happen while out on their training expedition in the middle of nowhere, either.
Night With You by @the-sinking-ship (58k, E)
Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.
Now all Draco has to do is convince him.
Star Quality by who_la_hoop (118k, E)
Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they?
But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?
The Romantic Prawn Who Loved Christmas by @bixgirl1 (39k, E)
When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess.
What comes as a complete shock are Potter's other activities...And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him.
(Relax. It's just like a holiday Hallmark movie! ...With, uhm, sleepwanking.)
Under Giant Mountains by @wolfpants (33k, E)
Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed?
In which Harry's trip to Norway to visit dragon-wrangler Ron introduces him to hikes from hell, mysterious natural magic, foraging, magical bathing, a new and bizarre friendship, and the frustrating, heady allure of his former nemesis turned sexy globetrotting field researcher.
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mask131 · 1 month
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So…I followed your advice in researching Greek Myths and learning them via the Authors. And uhm…I was curious because something bugged me.
Now I’m bad at history, but as far as I knew, Laurel Wreaths were mostly common in Rome, rather than Greece? (I could be wrong) so I had like a nagging feeling. And found out that the Daphne and Apollo myth (And probably also Hyacinthus I’m looking into that) was told in Ovid’s Metamorphosis? I could be wrong, so far I’ve only seen Ovid as the original author.
Sorry- I saw your post about Arachne and thought about what other myths were originally purely Roman then were mistaken for Greek Myths and wanted to add this into a possibility-
A LOT of stuff were invented by Ovid! Myself I learned only a month ago that Morpheus was "invented" by Ovid and I was like... wow. (There were dream-gods in Greek mythology, but they were not singularized, and the persona of Morpheus as the individual god of dreams was invented by Ovid)
Now, I don't know much about the specific use of laurel in Ancient Greece vs the Roman empire, but if you ask about the origin of the story of Daphne and Apollo, they are definitively Greek and Ovid did not invent her (though he told the story in a very, very different way).
The story of Daphne's numerous misadventures was recorded by Greek authors - and while it was quite late records, which would make us wonder if it isn't a late development or invention, they all rely on older sources attesting a presence of Daphne's legend for quite a long time. The two major records of Daphne's legend by Greeks are Pausanias' Description of Greece (2nd century CE), and Parthenius of Nicea's "Erotica Pathemata" (1st century BCE). BUT Pausanias explains that the legend he collects has been known for a very long time in the area around the Ladon river, to the point of implementing itself within the worship of Apollo, while Parthenius begins his story by pointing out he is merely retranscribing the text of older sources - a book from a 3rd century BCE historian named Phylarkhos, and an elegiac poem by Diodoros of Elaia. But given these two older texts were lost, we only have the latest record, hence this feeling of "novelty" when the story is actually at least around since the 3rd century BCE...
In fact, the existence of Daphne in Greek mythology long before Ovid's Metamorphoses is also proven by how massively different the Greek records of Daphne's life are from Ovid's tale. Everybody knows the story of Daphne through Ovid, since it was the most popular and widespread one... But both Pausanias and Parthenius report the same legend, which is very different from Ovid's rewrite.
In Ovid's tale, Daphne is said to have been Apollo's first love, and that the god's feelings were caused by Cupid as a way to take revenge after being mocked (Apollo, as a talented archer-god, mocked Cupid's own archery talents). Cupid shot a love-killing arrow in Daphne's heart so that the nymph would reject all forms of love, and she became "like Diana" - by refusing any form of marriage or romance, and fleeing the company of men and rejecting all her suitors, preferring the loneliness of the woods and the pleasure of the hunt - her father, the river-god, insisted on her giving him a son-in-law and grandchildren but she insisted she wanted to remain endlessly virgin like Diana. Meanwhile Apollo had received a love-inflamming arrow, one that not only caused a deep desire and mad love within the god for Daphne, but also made this attraction stronger and more obsessive each time the god saw the nymph. As such, Apollo tried all he could to please her and woo her and seduce her, but each time he tried the love-repelling spell on Daphne caused her to flee in fear and disgust and terror ; and the more she fled, the more Apollo found her beautiful and desirable, thanks to Cupid's curse ; and thus he followed her, but the more he pursued and insisted the more she fled. Their respective love and hate kept growing and growing until Daphne, exhausted and not wanting to flee anymore, stopped by the shore of her father the river-god and begged him to transform her so that her beauty would be gone, and she would not be loved anymore. Her father turned her into a laurel-tree, but it was no use, as Cupid's power as too strong: Apollo was still in love with the beauty and radiance of the tree, and he could feel Daphne's heart beating in the plant; and similarly Daphne's hate still lived on, as when Apollo embraced the tree and kissed its branches, the tree shivered and was repelled away from the god's body. But Apollo ultimately decided that if she could not be his bride, he would make Daphne his official tree and symbol - and to this, Daphne actually agreed as she offered her "leafy branches" to the god.
That's the Roman story of Daphne invented by Ovid. What is the difference with the Greek story he took inspiration from? (Because it is very clear that Ovid's source was the story twice told by Pausanias and Parthenius ; and told by others before whose name were lost...
1: In Ovid's story, Daphne simply admires and imitates Diana's behavior. In the Greek legend Daphne was ACTUALLY one of the huntresses of Artemis. Or to be more precise Parthenius explains that Artemis found Daphne "dear" to her because she shared the goddess' life-choices, refusing to live in cities, not hanging out with other girls, hunting in the mountains with a large pack of hounds... And Artemis loved Daphne so much she offered her a gift: she would always shoot straight at her target and never miss.
2: There's no Cupid/Eros in the Greek legend. Daphne is not Apollo's first love, she is not cursed with rejecting all love, he was not cursed to love her to insanity - this whole episode was invented by Ovid. Apollo is still in love with Daphne in the Greek legend, but it is just a regular love.
3: The Greek legend has a character that Ovid completely erased. Leucippus. Leucippus was another man who was in love with Daphne but knew that she was a lonely huntress closely linked to Artemis... Understanding he could not seduce her in a conventional way, Leucippus put up a convoluted plan to win the girl's heart. He dressed himself as a woman and created for himself a female persona. He approached Daphne and pretended to be a fellow huntress ; Daphne agreed to let her join her hunting party, and she soon grew to admire this bold, strong woman so unlike the other girls of Greece and whose strength and hunting talents far surpassed those of a common maiden... In fact she grew such affection and admiration for the fake-huntress that Daphne developed a dear and solid friendship with her: it was said she was always by Leucippus' side, refused to let Leucippus away from her, and kept embracing him/her and clinging to his/her body. However, since Apollo was also in love with Daphne he grew both jealous and angry (since, as the god of truth, he knew of Leucippus' deceit), and decided to reveal the truth. He implanted in Daphne's mind the idea that she had to bathe in a given stream: she went there with her "attendant maidens" and female servants/fellow huntresses (Daphne is never said explicitely to be part of the huntresses of Artemis, but she herself lives in a group of "wild women" very similar to Artemis' huntresses so... it is strongly implied she is one of them, especially since she literaly lives like the goddess and has been gifted by her). Leucippus of course refused to bathe, despite the other girls' insistence, and since he refused still, they tore his clothes away from him... discovering he was a man all along. And since this group of women act on a Artemis' huntress logic, they did what seemed the most reasonable thing to do... kill Leucippus by plunging in his body all of their spears.
4: The Greek legend does agree that Daphne begged a third-party god to turn her into the laurel tree to escape Apollo's love-hunt, but the details are different from Ovid's tale and the story is more lacking in explanations... All we know, from Parthenius' record is that Apollo appeared to Daphne right after Leucippus was killed. Why? We don't know, but he clearly came to profit off the fact his romantic rival had been killed in shame/crime, and that he had a part to play in the "reveal" of Leucippus' deceit... But all we know is that Daphne fled Apollo, and he pursued her, and to avoid being caught by him she begged to be hidden from his sight, and thus she was turned into a laurel tree. But in the Greek legend she doesn't beg her father the river-god... she begs Zeus, and he is the one who grants her request and protects her from his own son.
Things are even worse in Pausanias' record, since he stops after Leucippus death and there is no story of Apollo hunting down Daphne in any way... He doesn't even speak of any metamorphosis ; and yet he does mention that Daphne was associated with the laurel, and that the heavy use of laurel in Apollonian rituals and games was because of the god's love for Daphne. (But from yet other sources contemporary to Pausanias' writings, such as the "Life of Apollonius of Tyana", we know that the story of Daphne being somehow "replaced" by a laurel-tree was well-known, though it wasn't always said why such a thing happened)
In conclusion, as usual with how Ovid tweaks the Greek legends, it is interesting to see how he shift the character and what the character is supposed to be about. Thanks to Ovid the image we keep of Daphne is the one of a victim fleeing in fright and fear, and her relationship with Apollo is depicted as a frightening and cruel tragedy orchestrated by Cupid... And yet, we do know that Daphne started out as a badass huntress of Artemis, and that her original story was about a man changing his gender in hope of winning her heart - to the point the involvment of Apollo was seen as a side-detail that could be omitted (Pausanias even claims that Apollo's involvment in the legend was an addition by the priests of the god, and not present in the main folktale)
Mind you I am not at all an expert on Daphne's character or story - and I am sure others are more informed than me... But that's the few things I know
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holylulusworld · 1 year
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History at its best
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Summary: You love history.
Square 1 filled for @ultimatechrisbingo​: Professor!Steve Rogers
Pairing: Professor (Silver Fox) Steve Rogers x Student!Reader
Warnings: language, undefined age gap (the reader is of age), Silverfox!ASteve, light smut, unprotected sex, creampie, possessive Steve, doggy style, Captain & Sir kink, dirty talk, hand around throat (no choking, but I add it just in case), inappropriate relationship
Words: 1k+
This story is part of my: Adventures with your professor masterlist 
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History. You love history. Especially when it comes on two long legs, and makes your panties dampen with only one look.
“Today, we will pick up where we stopped last time. Y/N, can you tell me where we stopped last time?”
Damn that man. Professor Rogers. Steve Rogers. He flashes you a bright smile as you nervously shift in your seat. 
You cross your legs and try to pretend you’re not having daydreams of your professor and his perfect cock. “Miss Y/L/N.”
“Page 385, Lesson 12,” you reply, praying that you remember the page right. If not, he’ll bend you over his desk and punish you for not listening to his lecture.
“Very good, Miss Y/N,” Professor Rogers points out. “As always. You’re such a good student…and a good girl.”
“I-“ dropping your eyes to your notebook you swallow thickly and pray none of the other students heard his last comment.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he puts on a big show as he walks toward his table. All tall and bulky he makes an impressive sight.
He puts on his glasses. The ones he doesn’t need. Steve Rogers just wants to act like he’s a normal guy.
But when he almost fucks you through a wall, he proves that he’s more than an average forty-plus guy lusting over one of his students. Steve Rogers is still the man saving the world more than once and a super-soldier. 
“Professor, can we talk after classes,” one of the new girls in your course asks. “Please.”
“Sorry, Miss—“ Steve furrows his brows as he can’t remember her name. “What was your name again?”
“Sandi, with an I, not Y,” you dip your head to watch her lean back in her chair to push her tits out. You chuckle and turn your attention back toward the notes you took last time.
If not, Steve will find a way to punish you. And you are not in the mood for a bruised ass and no orgasm again.
Once in a while, you love to be a bad girl and to get some well-deserved punishment. Just not this week. You want to be good this time to make sure he goes easy on you and your still tender ass.
“Right, Miss Y/L/N,” your head snaps up the moment you hear his voice. Steve narrows his eyes as you got lost in thoughts once again. “Do you want me to repeat the question for you?”
“I’m sorry, I was looking over my notes about the Roman Empire and didn’t hear your question, Sir.”
You watch his Adam’s apple bobble when you use the title. “Well, at least you were engrossed in the topic, not some fashion magazine. You are forgiven.”
He smirks as you release a shuddery breath. “Thank you, professor.” Steve doesn’t seem to be mad.
“Anytime, Miss Y/L/N.”
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“Why not? Every other girl would gladly join me at that party,” you roll your eyes as one of the frat boys tried to talk you into going to a party with him.
“I told you; I got a boyfriend at home.”
The annoying guy doesn’t need to know your boyfriend is your professor and the former Captain America.
“What he doesn’t know…” he grins, offering you a good time and more. “You don’t want me to tell everyone you’re an uptight bitch, right?”
“Fuck you,” you storm off, muttering under your breath. “No one gives a shit about your opinion.”
“I bet she’s boring in the sheets, bro. Let’s forget about her,” one of the other frat boys pats the guy’s shoulder. “We will find some other bitch for you.”
“Do we have a problem here?” Steve cocks his head to look down at the guy hitting on you. He was hiding behind a corner to jump in if needed. “What did you just say about Miss Y/L/N? How did you call her?”
“Virgins, you know,” the guy dares to snicker. “I bet she will mewl like a cat in heat when she gets fucked. Needy bitch.”
It takes everything in Steve not to break that grinning frat boy’s neck. He balls his hands into fists and takes a deep breath.
“Maybe she only needs a real man. Someone not treating her like a piece of meat. A man who knows how to fuck. I bet, you’d learn a thing or two listening to an experienced man, not a boy who creams his pants the moment he sees boobs...”
Steve storms off. If not, he’ll gladly kill the boys for daring to even lay eyes on you…
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The moment Steve sent you a message, demanding that you wear a naughty schoolgirl uniform and no panties you knew, someone fucked up big time.
You just didn’t know it wasn’t you but the guy hitting on you.
Now he has one arm wrapped around your chest, hand gripping your left upper arm tightly. He sinks his teeth into your neck to mark your body all over again.
“Who do you belong to, doll?” you whine at Steve’s words. You’re too out of it to even answer. “I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it.”
“Y-you,” you squeak. “I’m yours…only yours.”
“Fuck, this cunt.”
Steve moves his hand to your neck to force you to crane it. He grins as you look up at him with glassy eyes. “Say it.”
“Your cock feels so good, Captain,” you’re out of breath. Steve is fucking you hard from behind, never missing a beat as you struggle to even keep your body upright. “I love it so much.”
“Of course, you do, doll,” he lowers his head to kiss you greedily, lips and tongue dominating your mouth. 
“Steve…please…”
“Not yet,” he growls against your lips while his hips mercilessly snap into your ass. “I’m gonna ruin this cunt first.”
“It’s yours…only yours,” you babble and whine. “Please…Sir…” You’ll do anything to get your high. “I love it when you fuck me.”
“Fuck,” your body goes slack as Steve slaps one hand between your legs to shove two fingers inside your cunt to join his cock. “Fuck…Stevie…Captain…Sir…professor…”
“That’s it. You can cum now, baby doll. Come for me and take all of my spunk,” Steve growls when his warmth fills you. “You’re so good for me. Always so tight and warm.”
You tremble against him. It’s all too much. “Please…I can’t…”
“Shh…I’ve got you baby doll,” Steve immediately wraps his arms around you. “I’ll carry you into the bathroom and we will have a warm bath. Just let me lock the door first…”
“Yes, Captain…”
Steve kisses your temple and mumbles soft words as he pulls out of you. “I’ve got you...baby...I love you.”
“I love you too, Steve.”
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Tags in reblog.
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wolfofansbach · 8 months
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Personal thoughts and meditations upon the occasion of the Riverdale series finale. 
Probably like four people are going to read this but I feel compelled to write it out anyway. This show has genuinely been a massive part of my life. I watched the first episode because some high school friends encouraged me to (IRONICALLY, BRO). I was in high school when I started this show. Those friends of course long ago fell away, unable to continue, unable to wacth anymore, but I have kept the faith. All seven seasons. Every. Single. Episode.
I’m not even entirely sure what captivated me so much about the show. I loved the atmosphere of season 1. I genuinely wanted to find out who killed Jason Blossom. Was genuinely fucked up by episode 1 x 12 and the first season finale.
I have such fond memories of watching the first season. I distinctly remember a road-trip I Tok with my friends the summer of 2017, and joking about  maple syrup drug empires and the “weirdo” line back when that was the wildest scene on the show. Joking about how sick of the song ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons (2017) we were. 
And then I decided to get involved in a fandom for the first time in a couple of years, and so I revived my old Tumblr, and I began Posting. And reading posts.  
That was my last summer after high school and I was so nervous about college but this show and this fandom helped me get through it. My freshman year I lived in a dorm, and if you wanted to watch TV you had to go down to this common room, so every Thursday I would go down there like an hour ahead of time and occupy the place to make sure the remote was in my hands by 7 PM. A few times I failed, and I missed an episode because of it. But rarely! 
I remember that slowly dawning feeling as season 2 progressed. Scrolling my Tumblr feed and slowly seeing people come to the realization: “wait…is it just me or does this show actually suck.” Was kind of frustrating at the time, realizing that the writers just like…were bad, but in retrospect? Beautiful. Incredible. Legendary. 
And you could even say that’s where the fun really began. Yes, there’s plenty to hate, but also Riverdale is brilliant. The show of all time. For real. No other show has done it like Riverdale. They just haven't, and they never will. The age of the cable television teen drama is ending, and what a hell of a last hurrah Riverdale has been.
The Red Circle. Jingle Jangle. The Gargoyle King. Edgar Evernever and his fantastic rocket. Bret Weston Wallis and Donna Sweett (genuinely cannot say their names without giggling). Jughead getting hit in the head with a rock and faking his death for like…some reason? I genuinely can’t remember, something to do with the Hardy Brothers idk. Tabitha sprinkling the devil with the tears of the Virgin Mary. The normies can laugh all they want about “epic highs and lows” but do they remember the even funnier lines like “if there’s no wedding, that means the gargoyle king has won” or “word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance…” THEY NEVER WILL. ONLY THE TRUE FAITHFUL UNDERSTAND. 
And is silly as it all was, I have genuine affection for these characters. Like Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Archie, Cheryl, Toni, actually mean a lot to me. YES they’re fake but I want the best for them (and for Beronica to be canon but you know we can’t win them all). I’m genuinely grateful that this show has existed and been a part of my life for the past six years. 
Moreover, I credit this show for seriously getting into writing. I’ve actually written almost a million words of Riverdale fanfiction. Much of it will never see the light of day, but it exists. Maybe I even have one or two left in me, I don’t know. At the very least I’d like to finish a few uncompleted fics. But I’ve also branched out. Since I started seriously writing in 2017, I’ve also finished several original manuscripts, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll get one published. Stranger things have happened. 
So, thanks Roberto.
And thanks to all of the very cool people I’ve run into in this fandom. I honestly wish I’d gotten to know most of you better, but them’s the breaks. Hopefully this isn’t weird but I’m going to tag a few people in particular. 
@village-skeptic. I know you’re not in the fandom anymore (lucky you), but thank you for, once upon a time, reading every one of the 200,000+ words of a 17-year-old kid’s turgid, indulgent, Riverdale Spanish Civil War fan fiction. I never, ever would have finished that story without you, and I credit it with giving me the confidence to keep writing, and in fact to write everything I’ve written since then. You’re brilliant and awesome. 
@satelliteinasupernova. Thank you for also reading Interbellum (are we noticing a pattern), and more importantly for all of your wonderful drawings. INCLUDING fanart of some of my fics. You have no idea how happy that Strange Death of Elizabeth Cooper piece made me. You rule. 
@sullypants. You were a perennial presence on my feed. Always wonderful to see. I love your taste in art, and I love those ‘penguin classics’ covers you made for a few of my fics. Thank you also for beta reading a few fics for me back in the glory days. And thank you for chatting with me a couple times over the years, including a few times when I was in quite unhappy places. 
@stillhidden. I’m not sure if we’ve ever actually talked, but you like or reblog everything I post and it makes me feel like I’m not just shouting into the void. Same goes for @frauleinfunf Thank God for dutiful mutuals. 
@sonyascomet. I can’t remember when I started following you but you have a really good sense of humor. And I’ll always remember when you kept posting about “Greg” for Succession and I, not knowing anything about Succession, kept imagining Greg Heffley. 
@stillhidden thank you for your world-weary Riverdale posts. You truly understand fandom like few others.
@halcooper. Your devotion to the neglected parents of Riverdale is truly admirable. Every time I see Lochlyn Munro in some weird low budget horror movie I’ll think of you.
I hope I didn’t forget anyone who would be offended by my forgetting, but I doubt it. 
All this to say this show has been a genuinely huge part of my life for six years. SIX YEARS. I graduated college, my God. I wish I could say I became a millionaire or a successful author in that time, but nah. Maybe one day, but for now I’m just kind of vibing. And unfortunately, I’ll have to vibe without Riverdale from now on. 
But as I sit myself down to watch the very last episode of this show, I remind myself that we’ll always have the memories. And I’ll always be an unapologetic Riverdale enjoyer. As a great man once said, snakes don’t shed their skins so easily. 
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ayyy-pee · 2 years
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Chapter 1 - The Mongol Empire
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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi
Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader
Summary: Cool, calm and collected, Suguru Geto is at the top of his class. With the best grades, a perfect body and a perfect face to match, he's untouchable...Until he meets you.
In which Suguru finds himself letting you get under his skin in a way no one has ever done before.
Genre: **College AU**
Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Virgin Reader, Yandere Suguru, Emotional Cheating
Suguru Art by: Ilameys
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Jujutsu Tech University – Tokyo Campus
Suguru Geto was the smartest person on campus. Devilishly handsome with his long, dark hair that hung loosely around his shoulders and incredibly charming, he held the highest GPA in the history of the school – a 4.5. He was positive it would be even higher if the school allowed for it. He was the top of his class and at the top of the food chain as far as the stupid popularity contest the morons at this school insisted on following. He guessed it made some sense for him to be on top. Well, he and his best friend Satoru Gojo. Though while Suguru was at the top of the food chain for his amazing brain, charisma and appearance, Satoru was at the top of the food chain for all of the same reasons except he was attainable in a way Suguru was not.
You couldn’t get Satoru to commit to an ice cream topping, let alone a woman but that didn’t stop them from trying to tie him down. The two of them were approached by men and women alike and Satoru entertained them all. Some with harmless flirting, others with an exchange of phone numbers to meet up later and others with an invitation to come back to the on campus apartment they shared. Suguru on the other hand brushed them all off and into Satoru’s open arms happily. He didn’t have time for that shit. He couldn’t afford to waste time lowering himself to the same level as the morons that roamed mindlessly around the school. He couldn’t relate to them. They were not on the same wavelength as him. These morons spent their boring daily lives roaming around campus being mediocre and they were perfectly content. Most of them couldn’t recite the periodic table forwards and backwards like he could do in his sleep. They couldn’t hold a conversation about Marxism or solve basic algebra equations let alone work through limits, derivatives and integrals. Why would he want to stick his dick in anyone so beneath him? Satoru could have them.
Suguru’s long legs carried him across the courtyard towards the History building. He inhaled deeply as the wind blew through his hair, whipping the chocolate tendrils around his face. He was heading to his World History lecture. This class was an easy A for him. History was one of his strongest subjects. Now in his senior year of college, easy classes were just what he needed to keep his beaming GPA right where it belonged – above everyone else’s.
Reaching for the door to the building, Suguru was stopped when he heard a small voice speaking to him. He looked down at the petite woman with a bright red face staring up at him through her lashes. Had she been standing by the door this whole time? He hadn’t noticed her. “Umm, Suguru?” she mumbled quietly. Her hands came up to fiddle with the braid that hung over her shoulder.
‘Oh great’ he thought to himself. He absolutely hated being approached like this without Satoru there to run interference. He also hated the stuttering and mumbling these morons did when they tried to talk to him. How did they ever expect to amount to anything or obtain a suitable partner if they couldn’t even be bothered to speak clearly and concisely? Suguru watched the girl, losing patience as lecture start time drew closer. He needed to get to his seat to make sure he got a good spot.
“Suguru” she started again. “I-“
“You want to go out with me I’m assuming.” He cut her off. She nodded, the blush on her face deepening until she almost resembled a tomato. He almost wanted to laugh. He’d be nice this time.
“What’s your GPA?”
“My GPA?” she echoed.
“Yes.” Suguru sighed irritably. “What is your GPA? Cumulative and overall?”
The girl continued fidgeting with her braid – a habit he had noticed that irked Suguru already. She clearly lacked confidence in herself. He assumed her GPA reflected so. No confidence, annoying fidgeting, ineffective communication skills. It was a no the moment she approached him.
“I-I don’t know? I think it’s like a 2.9? Maybe a 3?” She muttered out finally. Suguru scoffed.
“A 2.9 maybe a 3 GPA. You’re barely surviving at this university and you think I’ll want to date you? I’m focused on my studies which clearly you are not. There’s no compatibility here.”
The random girl barely had time to gather her thoughts before Suguru entered the building without giving her a glance, letting the heavy door slam shut behind him. He made his way into the World History lecture hall, the smell of dust hitting him and bringing him a sense of peace. He was in his safe haven. Suguru took a seat in his usual spot. He preferred the middle aisle seat to allow him access to leave quickly and avoid the thick swarms of morons blocking the doors.
As he sat down and pulled his notebook out (the rest of the morons all pulled out their laptops, no doubt to peruse social media), his eyes drifted over to the person seated directly across the aisle from him. A new girl he had never seen before. You. You sat quietly with a pen and notepad out just as he did, your legs crossed under the table and your hands folded neatly on the desk. You stared straight ahead as you waited for lecture to begin. As Suguru watched you, he couldn’t help but think something was different about you.
The doors to the lecture hall opened and Professor Yaga entered. A large, serious man who insisted on wearing sunglasses at all hours of the day. A great educator all the same. Suguru wondered if his eyes were as sensitive to light as Satoru’s were and that’s why he always had those dark shades on. He also wondered why the hell he always wore ties covered in panda patterns. A mystery Suguru didn’t really care too much to solve unless he needed to in order to bring his grade up. Principal Yaga cleared his throat and the rest of the morons quieted down their pointless conversations.
“Class, welcome. I’d like to introduce a new student who has just transferred in from our Kyoto campus. Y/n, please stand up and tell us about yourself.”
You stood as Yaga requested and turned to the face the rest of the class, waving as you spoke. “Hello, I’m y/n. As Professor Yaga stated, I’ve just transferred in from the Kyoto campus. I’m on the track team, the debate team and I am hoping to end my senior year graduating at the top of the class.”
Suguru snorted at that and tried to hide the sly smirk that threatened to spread across his face when your head snapped over to him with a scowl. Great, another one of these morons on the debate team. There was no way you’d be top of the class either.
“Anyway, I love running and in my free time I’ve been learning to cook. I hope to have a pleasant remainder of the year with you all.” You smiled and Suguru found his eyes still watching you as you sat back down in your seat and returned your attention back to the Professor.
Class droned on as it always did. Suguru had already studied the material. He was really only here to answer questions and receive the recognition he so deserved. Professor Yaga paced the front of the classroom to no doubt ask a simple question about the global empires curriculum he had just gone over.
Stroking his beard, Professor Yaga continued on. “-and so the Mongol Empire at its peak, was the most powerful empire. Who here can tell me how much land the Mongol Empire controlled at their height of power?”
Easy question. God, give him a challenge for once. Suguru chuckled to himself, raising his hand to answer. “Nine-“
“Nine million square miles, sir.” He was cut off. Okay. Lucky guess. They probably didn’t know the at its peak, the Mongol Empire-
“At its height, the Mongol Empire’s rule spanned from the Sea of Japan to parts of Eastern Europe and even into parts of the Arctic and mainland Southeast Asia and even further. Their rule was incredible.”
His head whipped over to where the voice came from and his eyes landed on you. You locked eyes with him and gave him a wicked smirk for all of half a second before turning your attention back to the Professor. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The scowl on his face starting to deepen when Professor Yaga praised you for knowing more than what he taught this lecture.
Suguru did not like that. He did not like not being the one to shine and answer any of the lecture questions. He did not like that you knew the same (maybe more?) amount of information as he did. There was more about you he didn’t like. You were smart, he’d admit but he did not like how cocky you were about it. Like you had achieved something great and he could never obtain it.
After giving it more thought, Suguru figured out what was so different about you. You really fucking annoyed him and not in a way the rest of the morons did.
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You stretched your legs under the table, arms lifting over your head and sighing at the feeling of your back cracking against your chair. What a great first day of class. World History was going to be so much fun! The heavy footsteps of Professor Yaga approached and you gave him a small smile.
“Y/n, I’d like to introduce you to someone who can help you to become more familiar with the campus and activities. I believe you both will have a lot in common. Come, he’s just over here.” You watched blankly as he made his way directly across the aisle to the asshole who laughed at you when you were introducing yourself.
“Suguru, I’d like you to meet y/n. You will be escorting her around campus. Since you both are also on the debate team, it would be nice for her to make a friend and have someone to go to for guidance.”
‘Him?’ You thought. You took his form in. Messy long brown hair laid down his back and around his shoulders, the front of it flopped lazily to the left. He was tall. You could tell that much from the way he had to stretch his long legs out in front of him to even fit in his desk. His eyes reminded you of a feline and it made you make a mental note to not trust anything out of this man’s mouth. Professor Yaga turned to face you and you watched as the man-child behind him gave you a look of absolute disgust the entire time the Professor spoke, his cat like eyes showing you nothing but contempt until Professor Yaga turned to give him a firm nod.
“Please look to Suguru for guidance as you adjust here, y/n. He’s a fountain of knowledge and will be an excellent resource for you.” he said before taking his leave. Yeah, you were gonna guide your foot up this guy’s ass before you even got out of this room.
Suguru stood from his desk, absolutely towering over you. You hated how you had to crane your neck to look up at him, but you weren’t going to let his height intimidate you.
“When’s your next class?” He grunted out, not bothering to formally introduce himself.
“I’ve got about twenty minutes before I have debate practice.”
Suguru nodded, humming to himself. “Well, we’ve got time for a quick tour if you want.” He couldn’t have looked less interested in this if he tried. And he wasn’t interested. He had better things to do than drag some moron around campus. Was she really so dumb, she couldn’t navigate the school herself? There were signs and maps posted everywhere! But, Yaga gave him the assignment and he never failed those. He wasn’t going to let you be the reason he started.
You simply nodded and headed up the steps of the lecture hall and out the door with Suguru trailing behind you. As you exited the building, Suguru sighed obnoxiously. He guessed he could be a little nicer to you.
“Good job with that question about the Mongol Empire earlier. You must’ve read your notes really quickly to get all of that information.” He said, though you didn’t miss the faint venom behind the compliment. You weren’t going to let him get to you.
“Thanks, but I actually didn’t take any notes at all. I studied the Mongol Empire over the summer when I took additional courses.” You gave him a faint smile.
Suguru tensed. Were you ahead in the curriculum already? There was no way.
“Summer courses, huh? Fell behind?” He gave you a smile that never reached his eyes. You returned the same smile.
“Nope! I took it for fun.  I was actually top of my class at the Kyoto campus. 4.5 GPA. Too bad they won’t let you go above that here either.” You rolled your eyes. If Suguru’s body could tense any more, he’d snap in half. You…you also had a 4.5 GPA? You took an extracurricular course on the Mongol Empire for fun? You somehow had managed to raise your hand before him with lightning speed, answer the question being asked and even provide additional information worded better than Suguru would have said it. And to top it all off, you didn’t seem to be the least bit affected by his mere presence. Wait, why did he even care about that? It didn’t matter. You were a monster in his eyes – a threat to what he had built here and he needed you gone.
He scoffed loudly in your face. “There’s no way you have a 4.5 GPA. I have a 4.5 GPA. It makes sense for me, but you? I’ll believe it when I see it.”
You were boiling now, absolutely fuming. This shithead really thought he was god’s gift to earth or something. So far, you hadn’t seen a single impressive thing about him except maybe his height. This guy was an asshole. Fuck trying to be nice.
“You saw it when I raised my hand almost an entire three seconds before your monkey brain registered a question even being asked.” You deadpanned.
Suguru froze. He felt like space and time had stopped. Did he hear you right? You had called him a monkey. A monkey. Him. A monkey. Suguru. A monkey. Suguru Geto? A monkey?
You continued, quietly fuming. “I think I can navigate the school on my own. I’ve honestly wasted enough time pretending to be nice to an asshole like you.” You turned on your heel and began making your way to the building the debate team practice meeting was being held. Did you know where you were going? Hell no, but he didn’t need to know that. You just knew you needed to get as far away from him as possible before you took his beautiful brown hair and wrapped it around his neck. You knew one other thing. You fucking hated Suguru Geto.
Your sudden exit snapped Suguru out of his trance. You had gotten the last word and he couldn’t stand that. Maybe you actually were good at debate, but the thought only made him more annoyed. He watched as you stomped across the courtyard, trying to resist the urge to stare as your smooth legs carried you through the grass and how the wind blew your skirt up in the back just enough for him to catch a small glimpse of your- what the fuck? No. Stop. He hated you. Not even ten minutes together and you both could not stand one another. It was so obvious. He had to knock you down a peg and quick. His long legs began moving in the same direction as you.
Guess he’d see you at debate practice.
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bethanydelleman · 10 months
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What is your opinion on Bridgerton?
To put it very simply, without Bridgerton, this blog would not exist.
Long story: I watched Bridgerton in the depths of lockdown. I had become kind of listless; I was comfort re-watching Jane the Virgin and Once Upon a Time. Then I watched it and I remembered from the empire waists that I loved Jane Austen.
I owned all 6 novels, but I had never read Mansfield Park or Northanger Abbey because my 12th grade English teacher said they were weird. I started re-reading Pride & Prejudice, but I knew it too well so I read through the others. I was transfixed by the two unread, NA was so funny! Why hadn't I read it before! I was gripped by MP, the ending had never been spoiled for me and I thought Henry Crawford was the end game. Also, Persuasion, which I had found intolerably boring in Gr 12 was now amazing (except Sir Walter, always loved him).
I started writing a sequel to Pride & Prejudice and my now published novel Prideful & Persuaded. I joined some Jane Austen Facebook groups and started reading the books along with the book club on one of those pages. I basically memorized the novels. I spent most of my evenings writing Jane Austen fan fiction. I found some Jane Austen friends that I still talk to on a regular basis.
So yeah, if Netflix hadn't released a very anachronistic fantasy Regency romance with a very hot male love interest, who knows what I'd even be doing right now.
To actually answer your question: I liked S1 a lot more than S2. I thought that a wedding was too far and girl code denies Kate and Anthony from marrying. You are Lucy Steele at that point. Anyway, I hate Eloise, especially in S2; she's the most annoying pseudo-feminist idiot ever. I like Daphne, I like Duke who is apparently not coming back, I like the funny painting brother even if he's so annoying for complaining about being a trust fund baby. I love the mom (I do not know people's names). I enjoyed all the smut in S1, especially the random against a tree smut that it opened with. I am not a huge fan of the costumes. I have yet to watch Queen Charlotte because I've gotten into Korean dramas recently and that takes up my spare time.
In general, it's smutty, tropey, and hot. What's not to like?
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birdofdawning · 1 year
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Sleepovers
“Here are two more,” said Myka, watching a well-dressed couple approach the tall, Second Empire-style house. The street lamps shone on the New England mist, and with the full moon out everything looked like an Atkinson Grimshaw painting. (Briefly she wondered if Helena had ever met John Atkinson Grimshaw but she quickly repressed the impulse to ask; Pete would make fun of her interest, and she didn’t feel like being made fun of tonight. She refocused on the investigation.)
The man (approximately 5’11”, medium build, receding dark hair, well dressed) was looking about nervously while trying not to appear like it, as the woman (5’5”, early forties, blonde, evening wear) preceded him up the steps and knocked at the ornate front door. A moment later they were inside.
“That’s thirteen people so far, all affluent-looking. Just the sort I’d expect to see at a private auction. But far be it for us to actually go in and stop them,” said Helena’s voice from the back seat of the SUV where she had constructed a sort of nest from travel blankets and her woollen coat. She sounded irritable.
“We don’t actually know that this is the site of the auction, or even that there definitely is an artifact auction happening,” said Myka carefully, “We only know that Tourtellotte is a collector, has had a previous connection with an artifact, and that he owns this house. We need more data — you of all people should understand that. They could be doing anything in there.”
“Yeah they could!” said Pete, lighting up, “Maybe it’s a—” Myka gave him a narrow glare. “—a sleepover! Just a fun Thursday-night sleepover, like when we were kids. You remember sleepovers, right Mykes?”
Myka glanced back up the street to track a passing car. “Not really. I never went to a sleepover when I was a kid,” she said absently.
Pete turned to stare at her. “What, like, not ever? Really?”
Myka silently cursed herself. “No. And can we not turn this—”
“So what was the problem? Oo, I know, you could never decide which books to bring! No, you needed to vet the rating of every scary movie! No, the houses were never up to fire code and you—”
“I was never invited, okay? Can we get back to this now? Our job?”
Pete subsided immediately. “Well, that sucks. Hey,” he nudged her with his elbow, “I would have totally invited you to a sleepover. If I had been allowed girls over. (I wasn’t.)”
“And if you weren’t ten years older than me. Creepy.” Myka elbowed him back.
“I take it,” said Helena’s voice from the back, “that a ‘sleepover’ isn’t some form of overnight transport?”
Pete turned around in his seat, excited again. “Oh man, H.G. doesn’t even know what a sleepover is! I’ve got two sleepover virgins here! Looks like we’re gonna have to do something about that when we get home.”
“Pete,” began Myka, rubbing her temples, “I am thirty-one. I don’t feel a tremendous urge to—”
“We’ll get some movies and some snacks, and stay up all night,” Pete carried on, “We can finally have that Aliens marathon! I’ll text Claud.” He pulled out his phone.
“Ah, so it’s similar to your movie nights. But with… sleeping?”
Myka twisted around to face Helena. “A sleepover is for children. Or teens, I guess. You spend the night at your friend’s house and do fun stuff.”
“And you sleep there? Or you don’t sleep?”
Myka thought back to the Baby-sitter’s Club books she had read. “You probably do fall asleep eventually, but there’s lots of talking and maybe watching movies like Pete says.”
Helena considered this. “When I was fifteen,” she said, “I was apprenticed to a dressmaker and shared a bed in an attic room with two other apprentices. We would talk for a time each night, if we weren’t too tired. I suppose this is similar, though I would have hesitated to refer to us as ‘friends’.”
Myka was very still. Helena rarely shared personal information unprompted, and what she did reveal was always cheerfully vague. “You were a dressmaker?” she probed tentatively.
“Not for very long,” said Helena, “thankfully. I was a terrible dressmaker. I was far more interested in the sewing machines themselves. Eventually I was dismissed for taking them all apart despite the fact,” she huffed, suddenly furious, “that I had improved the design and doubled their efficiency! But no, that irksome woman Mrs Moffet wouldn’t hear it. I was ‘a troublesome, wicked child’ and had to return home to my father in disgrace.” She muttered something else to herself and stared out the window.
“What happened then?” asked Myka, hardly daring to breath.
Helena gave her a quick glance. “Nothing very interesting.”
“Oh,” said Myka, disappointed.
Helena snorted, and then smiled at her. “Poor Myka! Alright. I was sent off to my mother. She was housekeeper for a very grand lady (new money though, and she had married into it), and I was a downstairs housemaid for a summer. And I was an even worse downstairs housemaid than I was a dressmaker’s apprentice, if such a thing were possible.”
“At Uppark?”
Helena was startled. “Yes. At Uppark. How on earth did you know that? Oh, Charles, of course. Yes I see.”
Pete put his phone away. “Okay, Claud’s up for Aliens next weekend, if we can wrap this up early enough. And then you two get to braid each other’s hair and tell scary stories all night!”
“Yes, that’s what it was like as an apprentice,” said Helena, losing interest. “Well, I would tell queer stories of time come adrift and de-evolved men and so-on, and they would tell me to shut my head and go to sleep because we had to get at four to light the stove. But there was certainly a lot of hair-braiding. Here come two more worthies trying to look innocuous. The one on the left is armed, I think.”
She and Pete carried on, focusing on the case again. But Myka’s mind was elsewhere, imagining herself and Helena at fifteen years old, sharing a bed. She thought she would have happily lain there for hours listening to that low, velvet voice talk of travellers from other times and blue bacilli and sinister orchids and enormous terrifying birds . Until sleep took Helena, and then, warm beside her, Myka would have listened to her slow breathing and inhaled the scent of her hair and—
Myka mentally shook herself. Obviously they could never have really been friends, not as teenagers in the ‘90s. Helena was so pretty, she surely would have been popular and have had no time for weird, awkward Myka Bering. But perhaps now they could be grown-up friends, who shared books and… and had coffee dates. Good friends.
Myka decided that she wanted to be good friends with Helena very much.
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vintagegeekculture · 2 years
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The 90s Hercules TV Movies
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If you are only familiar with the comedic and lighthearted Hercules TV series, the tone of the seldom shown Hercules TV movies that aired on the Universal Action Pack, who’s success led to the series, should be a surprise. For those who are unaware, Universal had a block of programming that they used to show TV movies, including TekWar, Vanishing Son I-IV (essentially a remake of Fu Sheng’s Chinatown Kid, about a Chinese immigrant martial artist who’s brother becomes a gangster in San Francisco), and a remake of Smokey and the Bandit. Of these TV movies, the only ones that were really a hit were the Hercules, and it’s easy to see why.
Taking themselves as seriously as a Steve Reeves film from the 60s, the pre-series Action Pack Hercules TV movies had an interesting mission statement. As Hercules was something of an old fashioned type of hero even in the 90s, the first TV movie had to explain that this particular itineration of Hercules was a sensitive man who understands women. In the TV movie, Hercules in the Maze of the Minotaur, he’s even a single dad, trying to raise his kids. In other words, they wanted to create a hero who had strength and toughness, but also, had a social conscience, and ended episodes with speeches about how racism was bad. They wanted to create a sort of workable composite hero for the 90s, a no beard, long haired hippie Hercules who looked like he was 4/20 friendly. Kevin Sorbo is the only Hercules I can imagine blazing it with a satyr and centaur.
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The culture is cyclical, and periods of progressive sentiment yield to reactionary eras of angry retrenchment. I’ve always thought that the 90s were actually two decades in one. The early part of the decade was full of proactive, environmental, moralistic earnestness, like Ted Turner’s Captain Planet and the Planeteers and corny hip hop acts that wore daishikis, and the later years of the decade were reactionary in spirit, with angry tatted up nu metal acts and really weird pop stars who liked to say they were virgins all the time and wear purity rings.
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Hercules and the Amazon Women was very much in the spirit of the earlier part of the decade. For instance, the Amazon Women are hostile to men because they think men are monstrous and beat their wives, and Hercules argues that isn’t true – some are cool enlightened males, like him, who can learn to treat women right, and the genders can learn to live together based on mutual respect. The Amazon Women doubt this and use a magic candle to make Hercules flash back to his own life and remember all the times he was taught how to interact with women in his life, in occasionally very degrading ways (in other words, we get Hercules’s origin, so it’s exposition that doesn’t feel like exposition – very clever). Confronted with this, Hercules comes out of it saying that he was wrong, that he can do better and believes everyone else can, too. As a “mission statement” for a new take on Hercules as a new kind of enlightened guy for the 90s who has both strength and compassion in equal measure, it works pretty effectively. 
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A lot of works try to be “ah, but this is not your father’s Hercules!” But I swear, this one really succeeded, and I think the reason these TV movies created an empire that dominated the decade was precisely because it was a completely different take that asked how it could do things differently. For instance, just like Kevin Sorbo’s Hercules is a longhair hippie and single dad who believes in peace and love who fights only when all else fails, Anthony Quinn as Zeus works exactly because he underplays it, plays Zeus as a regular guy, a normal schlub who might be a friend of your Dad at the pub, who doesn’t have a booming voice and comes off as normal…yet because this is Anthony Quinn here, he comes into the room… he’s in charge.
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Another bit of casting that’s kind of impressive was Hippopolyta, Queen of the Amazons, played by Roma Downey. If you only know her from Touched by an Angel, her wearing a push up bra as a sexy evil queen villainess who knocks boots with Hercules is probably a hell of a shock. I truly believe that there is an alternate timeline where she becomes known for action roles as hot villainesses and would never play an angel in her life (quite the opposite), and maybe got the kind of career Lucy Lawless did. Yeah, she’s a Christian, which is why she did so well on that angel show she did, but that kind of thing isn’t disqualifying when it comes to action. After all, one of the most famous amazons of all, Lynda Carter (like many people of Mexican descent) is a devoted Catholic.
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officialleehadan · 11 months
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Waking Discovery
Hello darlings! It's the first day of Prompt Month! This story was brought to you by Cjessie. Thank you so much for all your support!
Prompt: To Build an Empire with Domenik and Cuira getting discovered by Cuira's maids.
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Cuira woke up warm.
It wasn’t that unusual. Herculean tended to be warm, and so she often kept her personal quarters warmer than the rest of the Quasar. Today, however, it wasn’t the warmth that had woken her, or even her morning alarm, which hadn’t quite gone off yet. Not entirely awake yet, Cuira noted the heavy arm wrapped around her, paused to try and remember who was in her bed, and recalled the events of the night.
Dominik.
He had spent the night in her chambers as a protection to both of them. The illusion of having consummated their marriage would be difficult to question after he spent the night in her chambers. After all, there were few who would demand to know the actual events that went on in her chambers between her and her husband. Those who would be so direct, or so rude, would be easily put off by blushing allusions.
After all, it wasn’t like she was a virgin. That had been lost to a particularly handsome member of her house guard some years ago, and she had a few flirtations over the years. She knew how to suggest a great deal more had happened than the truth. The truth was, amusingly, not the slightest bit sordid. They had retired to her chambers and hunted through the Quasar’s vast media library until they found a vid that looked amusing.
Dominik, as it happened, had very strong opinions on action-adventure vids about commandos. He provided a scathing, but absolutely hilarious commentary that had Cuira laughing so hard she cried. They settled in, with his arm around her shoulders and her head on his chest, and fell asleep not long after the credits rolled.
Cuira let herself enjoy the quiet moment. Domenic was awake and probably had been for a while. He was running his fingers through her hair gently, but didn’t seem inclined to move. They were clothed of course. She in her favorite nightgown and he in the set of sleep-clothes that had been rather pointedly left in her wardrobe for him some time ago.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice a low rumble under her ear where she rested against him, warm and comfortable. Cuira had the passing thought that she had never slept so safely. Certainly nothing could possibly harm her with her fearsome husband wrapped around her like a suit of armor. “You hardly moved all night.”
“I did sleep well, thank you,” Cuira said, and debated getting up, before giving in to the lure of the blankets and the rare sense of safety that came with Dominik’s presence. “You?”
“Better than I ever do,” he said with a faint smile and a softness to his voice that Cuira had been noticing more and more when he spoke to her. “I think your bed is more comfortable than mine, and the company is unmatched.”
“You will have to come again. After all, how else will I learn of the inadequacy of our modern action vids?” Cuira teased him in her primmest, most proper tone just to make him laugh. Her morning alarm went off, the soft chiming of a bell, and she sighed. “But not today I fear. I have meetings with the ship’s household. I’m trying to find a handful of aides that I can trust. It’s slow going.”
“Want me to assign one of my siegebreakers to you? They’ll be able to hear lies on people.”
“Would you? That would make my life easier,” Cuira admitted, since finding honest help was one of the hardest parts of her work at the moment. “We have lunch with my father.”
“Must we?” he asked, pained and reluctant. “I could arrange an attack drill. Get him locked in one of the Quasar’s safe-rooms for a few hours.”
“You shouldn’t tempt me so, dear husband,” Cuira said as giggles overtook her at the very thought. “Better not. He does have a number of contacts who will be useful, if only so we know who not to trust.”
“If he tries to take you back to Herculean, or anywhere you don’t want to go, yell for me,” Dominik said, suddenly serious as he propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her. “I… listen for you through the day. You’re grounding. I can hear you anywhere on the ship, and I will come for you.”
Touched beyond measure, Cuira couldn’t help herself but lean up to kiss him, slow and soft and barely there.
Dominik made a small sound of surprise, but wasted no time in tilting her chin up for a proper kiss. Cuira leaned into him, suddenly interested in anything but their duties for the morning.
“Hang the meetings,” he whispered when they parted, and kissed her again, guided by Cuira’s hand tight in his hair.
The sound of the door and a shocked yelp served to break them apart. Cuira muttered a deeply impolite word under her breath, which startled a snort of laughter out of her husband. He let his head fall to her shoulder, still laughing. Cuira spared a moment of deep resentment for her maids, but let him go when he stood.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” he promised and paused, before bending to kiss her once more, despite the watching eyes of Bess, who came bearing Cuira’s breakfast. “Good luck with your meetings. Tell me if you reconsider my lunch suggestion.”
“If only,” Cuira said impishly, very aware of her mussed hair and flushed cheeks. There would be questions from her maids, but now at least there would be no doubt about her husband’s attendance to her chambers. “Have a fine day, my husband. Try not to cause any diplomatic incidents I might have to clean up.”
His laughter followed him out the door and Cuira beamed unrepentantly at Bess, who was trying in vain to hide her own giggles.
It was time to begin her day, but the morning was, at least, off to a good start.
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To Build an Empire:
Garden Dome (Subscriber Only!)
Claxon Call
First Name Basis
Arrangement of Nobles (Subscriber Only!)
Of Adamant
Cross an Ocean (Subscriber Only!)
The Second Challenge (Subscriber Only!)
Snacks and Snipers
Torn Silk and Blood
Hostage Explained
New Understandings (Subscriber Only!)
Dinner Door
Enter Together (Subscriber Only!)
Changing Loyalties (Subscriber Only!)
Shots Across the Plate (Subscriber Only!)
Wine and Words (Subscriber Only!)
Waking Discovery
Escort Equipped (New!)
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MASTERLIST
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rachelbethhines · 1 year
Text
60 Years of Doctor Who Anniversary Marathon - Hartnell 5th Review
The Empire of Glass - Novel
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This is a novel of two halves. Half of it is very good, and the other half is not so good. But it’s by no means bad pre-say.
Let’s start with the basic plot. The Doctor returns to the Tardis after being taken out of time by the Time Lords. Long time fans will recognize that this story takes place after the events of The Three Doctors, but that matters not. What’s important is that the Doctor returns with an invitation in his hand, with no memory of ever receiving it.
Said invitation lacks any sort of explanation but comes only with time coordinates for Venice in the year 1601 AD. The Doctor and his companions, Steven and Vicki, fear it’s a trap, but the Doctor wants to spring the trap and get to the bottom of this mystery. From there we have a wild romp through the late Italian renaissance with aliens, mistaken identities, and several historical figures.
Now let’s talk about what doesn’t work first. For starters, there are way too many plot threads going on. I wouldn’t say it’s unwieldy, it does all come together in the end, but it’s very convoluted.
As a side effect of this, the inclusion of so many important historical figures feels superfluous and forced. Yes they all have a function within the plot, but it’s nothing that couldn’t have been achieved with mostly original characters to begin with. Rather than enhance the story, they often distract instead, especially William Shakespeare’s ludicrous sub-plot.  
Also, and this may just be a personal taste thing, but this really didn’t feel like a ‘missing adventure’. I don’t know what it is with Virgin Publishing and their Doctor Who books, but a lot of the stuff I’ve read from them are too try hard and edgy and would feel very out of place within the show proper. This particular book isn’t the worst offender by far, but it does take you out of the story sometimes. Especially since this is trying to mimic an actual First Doctor story, albeit one that has more sci-fi/historical mash up than was usual for him.
Finally, the characterization for the Doctor and his companions felt uneven. I was told that this was originally meant to be a Third Doctor story and I think it shows. There are definitely times when it feels like the First Doctor is a later Doctor just wearing a First Doctor mask it seems. 
Vicki fares a little better, but is given little to do. However I do appreciate that the author is trying to give both her and Steven depth by exploring their respective traumas in a way that just couldn’t and wouldn’t be done on screen. However, Steven feels a little too abrasive... Yeah, I mean Steven was never the most enthusiastic companion, but I don’t remember him being this much a downer. I also don’t think the romance between him and Marlowe really worked. It feels like a scene is missing from their story, one where Steven actual recuperates Marlowe’s advances or something.
So for the good things... It’s well paced. The story trots along nicely and gives plenty of nice details. The character’s who aren’t the mains are well realized. I like that the threat isn’t an alien invasion, but an attempt to sabotage an alien peace conference. I also like that the person who successfully negotiated the peace conference was a human priest who thought he had died and gone to heaven. That was the best twist, but most of the twists were well thought out.
There’s also illustrations!!
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These are so rare in novels! Why? They’re a great thing to have.
However the best thing about thing about this book is Brax.
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For those who don’t know, Irving Braxiatel, known as Brax to his friends, is the Doctor’s brother. He’s also a rouge time lord, but unlike the Master or the Rani, he’s not really a villain. Nor is he always a good guy, but here he is trying to do the right thing and he easily charms his way into the reader’s hearts.
This is my first real encounter with the character, though I had heard of him before. He was named dropped in the Fourth Doctor story, City of Death. The only thing we knew about him was that he owned a massive library and museum. Turns out he’s kind of like the Collector from Marvel, but slightly less of a dick about it... slightly.
Anyways, the expanded universe has since took this one off mention and spun him into an important character who appears in books, audio plays, and even some spin-off cartoons!
Like I said, this is the first time I’ve come across the character, but I shall be rather pleased if he manages to show up again in the marathon. But who can say, it’s all up to the randomizer.
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Oh and does anyone else think this random no-named Time Lord from Terror of the Autons is Brax too?
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