#been debating on it for a while and i think ill go for it

[kissingraine]

watch me pull a ‘it's supposed to be a three-part fic but break it down into multiple chapters’ move (i promise ill pull through chat🙏🏻)

mass-shifted mech

Lust for Life — G1 Insecticons x f!Reader (2.1)

• You like to think you’ve gotten a little closer after that. They trusted you enough to reveal what they are—though not exactly what kind. Big metal bugs that can turn into humanoid robots. That name’s gotta be shorter if you intend to officially put them in your journal. Shrapnel’s the easiest to get close to—funny and always dragging you to bug hotspots. Yeah. He goes hunting for the small suckers with you now. Something about EM fields. First time he heard the term, though? He nearly flipped out while repeating the last word in your sentence. And by flipping out, that meant almost zapping you like an eel stunning prey. You’ve made sure to explain exactly what you mean around him since then.

He doesn’t get why you insist on sticking to their de facto leader like a fragging bu—anyways. Kickback’s tried to squeeze the answer out of you, but it’s always the same thing. He’s funnier. Likes when you talk about their carapace under the sun. As if Shrapnel actually gave a scrap about that. But he gets it—he’s the ‘leader,’ and he’s supposed to be the one good at making people spill their secrets. Bombshell’s been spending nights on your couch watching bland organic soap operas—telenovelas—at 3AM. And… having very civilized discourse about which kid is going to get kidnapped next.

“See, right there,” you point, sitting on one edge of the couch while he’s on the other. One side tipping slightly because of how much he literally weighs. Two tons of pure metal. Can’t get any heavier than that. “That little girl is gonna get kidnapped while Daniel and Paulina over there flirt with each other.”

Bombshell vents, mass-shifted and leaning against the armrest, “Quite typical of your species, to be so engrossed with each other that they lose sight of their surroundings.”

“It’s called a fixation. Or, an obsession.” You shrug.

“Primitive.” Then you give Bombshell that look—one eyebrow raised and a half-smile like he amuses you. The way you amuse them. But it isn’t just that—it’s something warmer too. “It’s a very real and horrifying feeling, Shelly.”

Incessant little human. He’s told you many times that a respectable Insecticon of his caliber doesn’t do pet names—but you keep insisting. Because it’s satisfying to talk about something other than their war. Because it’s amusing to see you blabber about weak and useless human connections with him through the night—he lets you keep your head. All for the sake of documenting your habits in order to tempt you better. Shrapnel thinks it’s smarter to know more about you so they can get what they want, even though he could just charm you into it. Knows something is wrong. That you’ve done something to their leader, and he’s dying to find out what.

• Bombshell was different from Shrapnel and Kickback, as you soon found out from the other beetle. “He excels in mental warfare—warfare,” Shrapnel had mentioned in passing one afternoon.

“So, he’s a tactician?” you ask, ducking under a fallen tree log.

“You give him too much credit, squishy,” Kickback chimes in with a twitch of a wing, growling as he taps a clawed servo at your forehead. “He’s just as dangerous as we are, if not far more. Who knows what really goes on in that processor of his.”

• You’ve learned a bit of the grasshopper mech’s habits by now. And that’s the look he makes when he dares you to find out for yourself. Probably a good idea to be cautious around this guy—Insecticon genius, as he so often calls himself while ranting but there’s no denying Bombshell’s interest in telenovela mind games. It’s hard to predict. That’s probably the only reason he even entertains watching with you. It’s become routine. He waits outside, you let him in, and you both watch, then debate. Five minutes later, Eva—Paulina’s stepdaughter, the glue and everyone’s emotional center—gets kidnapped while Ave Maria plays in the background.

Why? How? The number of times he’s lost trying to predict it is taking up all the digits on one servo. And you laugh when the little girl eventually gets kidnapped by her mother’s evil twin sister. Not even because of what’s on TV, but at his reaction. He’s standing in disbelief like the show suddenly deserved a standing ovation for being so predictable.

“See? Told you. Nine years of watching this stuff, you get good at predicting even the wildest plots,” you say, just to rub it in.

Silence.

• He doesn’t answer. Just stares at the screen, then down at his claws. And something subtle, strangely human flashes across his face. Hard to tell with the mask on, but it’s definitely there. Defeat. Quiet devastation, you think. The brilliant manipulator outplayed by a human girl too interested in bugs. Then—he stands abruptly, towering, muttering something about statistical anomalies before sitting back down the same way you do when it’s the weekend. And the couch tilts hard to one side under his weight. You yelp as the momentum drags you across the cushions like a pinball, colliding into his side with a muffled oof.

You’re squished against him, he realizes. Soft and warm, right beside him, and he stiffens. So do you, while the telenovela continues to blare in the background. Neither of you are breathing. Just refusing to look at each other or move. Up close, you smell even sweeter to his olfactory receptors. And Bombshell’s suddenly aware why Kickback has been so insistent on this. It’s his job to get you ready for nesting, but the way you looked at that moment didn’t make him feel like he was doing it out of obligation. And what dignified Insecticon would let an organic be his undoing?

“You’re warm,” he rumbles, unconsciously. Like your warmth had pulled the words from his intake.

• You don’t think Bombshell has noticed the way one of his clawed hands has snaked around your side—slow and tentative, pressing you closer while you have an internal crisis. It’s sorta your fault for thinking you’d be fine, but the heat since the first time they revealed what they were hasn’t faded. Actually, it’s much more visceral now. The kind of visceral that makes you want to sit in his lap and fall asleep against his chest.

“And y-you’re heavy,” you reply, distracting yourself as you try to stand up.

• Except—his servo doesn’t let go. It tightens just slightly, not restraining… but holding. Like letting you go wasn’t yet an option.

“Stay,” Bombshell says, low and deliberate. There’s no command in his voice. Just… want. The screen flickers. Ave Maria ends. You’re not sure if the sudden warmth flooding your face is embarrassment, realization, or something else entirely. Maybe all three.

“I don’t…” you begin, but stop because you do.

He glances at you sideways, optics dimmer than usual. “For data collection,” he adds after a beat.

It’s a lie. A stupid, flimsy one.

But you nod. “Sure,” you whisper, letting your body relax against his.

“For science.”

Previous

also- look who i found at my local department store👀 ladies and gentlemechs i present you to you, Ptimus Orime and Bumble-not-bee😭😭 i didnt get them cuz they looked like bootleg versions lmfaooo and they were pricey for no reason?! idek who's the third one supposed to be.

[birdsong-warriors]

Is Scourge having a different name for a reason that will be explained in the comics?

I'm currently messing with the idea of a small comic explaining how Scorch got here and going into his origins. I've gotten a ton of questions about it. ;v;

Writing wise, I changed it to give him more connection with Firestar.

[connormoving]

so close to being done with one step in the larger step in the larger step of the spreadsheet.

i ran out of space in the tags so im continuing them under the cut bc i wasnt finished... and if you let me finish i would of finshed my santance

anyways i have some countries like. the borders r pretty close to irl countries and i have them in my notes as x country but other ones i split them into like. just smaller subregions of the continent based on irl like. regions. like i split africa into . Madagascar + East Africa + Central Africa + Southern Africa + Western Africa + Northern Africa and its referenced off of maps where those r like. the recognized regions (well. madagascar is usually just counted as either east or southern africa but yk). but idk... im worried its a shitty thing 2 do i just dont know what else 2 do with it. maybe i should just use an actual world map instead since im going more realistic with like. the time periods and stuff. IDK i just rly wanna avoid the shit the sims does so much where it lumps a bunch of cultures together like. the chinese world in ts3 world adventures having a torii gate for the icon. -_- yk. the map was kinda superfluous anyway and more judt a way to visualize where the worlds we have were distributed + also was mostly influenced by that one ts4 mod which takes that more simplistic approach but maybe i can just step away from that and just go more realism based Its just hard bc i dont wanna like. lose the more like. silly isnt quite the word (itis kind of but not fully) ig i mean i dont wanna lose the abstraction kind of thing the sims has. but like. I am auite literally making a spreadsheet to get rid of some of the abstraction the sims has so what am i on about. IDK i just have been thinking abt it a lot basically... like sims im already making shit up and locking the sims to like real world history stuff it only makes sense to like. do the same thing with The world and not have it be abstracted. so yes that was a lot of words to say i think im just gonna move to thinking of the sims as living on Basically earth. In my personal the sims palace that ive made up. this is not to say i personally think of the sims as tkaing place on earth or anything ive just decided to do like. Bc this whole thing is basically an au im making anyway like. taking ts3 sims and making them be from the 1950s thats already Not what the game is like. so ill just make it a Realworld sims au. ok yay 👍 thats all sorry for talking sm abt something so pointless and also for not using a SINGLE paragraph break im basically just writing in this like i write in the tags (stream of consciousness) but the tags have the benefit of being naturally split up so yes i dont think anybody is reading this far. when i was little and playing skyward sword for the first time roughly 7-8 years old i got to the like trial on skyloft and i got so scared i smashed the cd so that i wouldnt have to do it . and then i blamed my dog for it. and i did this even tho lamp had JUST started a skyward sword playthru which idk if i knew at the time but i do feel rly guilty abt it. but i was rly scared. ok thats all

[puppetlooselystrung]

-

[darlingdaisyfarm]

꒰ Stan & Ford bj headcanons ꒱

a/n: was debating whether i should post smth angsty but honestly? nahh, i decided to let go of the cringe and simply embrace the classic: dicks dicks dicks. no regrets!

also yeah, not me using gifs of their most tragic, lowest point moment of life while writing about sucking their dicks

warning: nsfw!! | second part

〃 STANFORD

𖹭 okay listen. he has absolutely imagined you blowing him while he’s lecturing. imagined himself giving a serious talk about some multidimensional travel or whatever. and you’re under the table, pretty little mouth sucking him so slow it’s torture, and he’s trying to keep his voice steady. Ford is picturing the way his voice trembles when your tongue swirls. he's insane about it. he thinks about it at night and has to shamefully jerk off in the bathroom at 3am :(

𖹭 his ideal fantasy is when he’s bent over a cluttered lab table, pants barely pushed down, one hand scribbling formulas and the other gripping your hair while you suck him off. “don’t stop. i’m so close to finishing this equation— hhah—don’t you dare stop—“ soo he’s finishing a theorem and finishing in your mouth at the same time. Ford Pines core

𖹭 he can’t take eye contact. HE CANTTTT!! like if you look up at him while you’re doing it? he has to cover his face with his hand, my shy boy!! he makes this broken little noise like “oh—gods above—“ and shakes his head

𖹭 Ford grips your wrist when he’s close and if pose allows it. not your hair, but your wrist more than all. smth about the control of it. the intimacy. the little squeeze he gives as if to say please stay with me

𖹭 he’s OBSESSED with being milked. sorry. no other word. he wants slow, sloppy, deep suction while you use your hands and tongue and all your filthy skills to drain him dry. he’ll bite his knuckles to stop from moaning too loud and then make such a mess in your mouth. so much of it. like he’s been saving it for you

𖹭 well, since i love writing him as a freak and pervert, then ill also have to share this weird headcanon of mine. . . he likes to cum on his papers. i’m serious. like if he’s working and you surprise him with a blowjob? he’ll try to pull out at the last second and accidentally spurt all over his notes. then moan your name like you ruined him on purpose

𖹭 “you’re perfect like this. you’re doing so well. my perfect darling. . .”

𖹭 guys if we talk about where he likes to cum. . . listen. this man wants to fill your mouth, watch you swallow, then kiss you slow. he’s obsessed with the intimacy of it

𖹭 but also?? when he’s in his freak era? he’ll pull out and paint your tongue, your lips, your chin, your chest. and just stare like he’s watching a masterpiece dry

𖹭 he has to sit down afterward, always. he needs a cup of tea and ten minutes to write about it in his “private” journal

𖹭 flinches when you lick the frenulum. he’s ticklish there in a way that makes his breath catch and he literally fists the sheets, which is humiliating for him, idk. he’ll be like “ah—wh—hah, be careful, i—“ and then whimper into the back of his hand and cry like a pathetic old man he is!! yummy!

𖹭 sometimes he forgets to breathe. literally has to stop himself from holding his breath. you’ll have to tap his thigh like “hello? breathe babe!!!“

𖹭 he’s lowkey a pervert about hearing your throat work. . . like if he hears that wet gluck noise, he’s biting his fist and cumming so fast

𖹭 he won’t admit he likes gagging. he gets hard from the thought of you gagging on him. he doesn’t even need to see it. he’ll be alone, doing god knows what in the lab, and he’ll remember that time you couldn’t quite fit all of him, how your throat flexed and he’ll get hard

𖹭 he’s the kind of man who thinks he wouldnt need it. who might even stiffen up the first time you drop to your knees, but that’s just the thing about him, he’s starving and he doesn’t even know it

𖹭 he whimpers, obviously. strained little sounds in his throat because poor man trying so hard to keep his dignity stitched together, but it all goes to hell the moment your tongue flattens under the head of his cock. hes super sensitive

𖹭 Ford likes it when you touch his thighs while doing it. press your palms to them. he doesn’t know why it sends him spiraling but it does. makes him whimper harder

𖹭 his hands are shaky. they don't grab your head at first, they hover. then finally settle in your hair

𖹭 after he cums, i think he's burying his face in his hands or your shoulder or whatever he can reach. shuddering. that's because he's so embarrassed by how loud he was, how his hips twitched, how his thighs clenched around you.

𖹭 yess, Ford can avoid eye contact. sometimes he tries not to look but then he peeks and makes such slutty, broken, pathetic face. will whisper “don’t look at me like that” but u know he doesn’t mean it

𖹭 he pants. literally pants. like a dog. you wouldn't expect it from professor cool-calculated-explorer man, but as soon as you get your mouth on him, his breathing goes all stuttery, shallow, hot against the collar of his shirt. head tilted back. chest heaving. trying so hard to keep it together but failing miserably. “nnh—p-please slow d—fuck—just like that, darling, j-just—“

𖹭 he jerks his hips a little without meaning to. tries to be respectful, to let you set the pace, but once he’s deep enough in your throat, he makes these little shallow, guilty thrusts into your mouth and his voice breaks. “s-sorry, love. mnn, gods forgive me, I can’t—I can’t not—“

𖹭 if you wear glasses, he’ll cum on them. he will. and apologise. and then get hard again from how hot it looks

𖹭 will beg you to let him return the favor. right now. will beg to taste you, let him kneel too, pls

𖹭 his thighs always tighten. you can feel the tremble if you'll put your hand on them. he might grab the sheets or whatever’s behind him. he makes this helpless ughhnnn sound when he's getting close

𖹭 an advice for you. . . don’t rush, don’t treat it like a chore. it freaks him out. he’s already anxious about intimacy, so if you seem detached or too mechanical, he’ll overthink it.

𖹭 aaand if you’re too aggressive without warming him up, he’ll freeze. he needs the build-up, the slowness, my tender gentle boy

𖹭 one last thing, praise him. sure, some people want to be degraded, but Ford wants to be worshipped. tell him he tastes good. tell him you love doing this for him. tell him he’s smart, and handsome, and cute, and that hes your good boy and yours, i think he'll get sooo emotional. his EGO becomes cosmically huge.

〃 STANLEY

𖹭 absolutely loves receiving head, he's simple like that. maybe a lil obsessed with it, especially if its not some one-night stand or hook up, but when it's his partner doing it for him while in relationship. it’s about adoration, because Stanley thinks you're the sexiest thing alive when you're doing it and he will gladly show you how much he's enjoying it. grunts, groans, gasps, whole body involved.

𖹭 if he could have it his way you’d be on your knees every time he sat down with a drink in his hand

𖹭 he gets hard fast, this more applies to mullet Stan though. like you just say smth nasty (or even the smallest praise) and boom

𖹭 he gets off on you humping the bed while doing it. like if you’re desperate and grinding down while sucking him off? he’s gonna LOSE HIS MIND. “you that needy for it, huh? gotta get yourself off while you suck my dick? goddamn baby” he’ll start thrusting into your mouth all sloppy and turned on

𖹭 Stan likes when you hold his stomach. if you put both hands on his belly while you’re going down on him, he shudders. it makes him feel wanted. hot, attractive. “that’s it baby, hold onto me. you like this fuckin’ gut, don’t ya?”

𖹭 “open up, there you go. gimme that tongue, yeah, just like that, you fuckin’ love this, huh?”, “you better be ready to swallow all of it, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t holdin’ back.”

𖹭 he will enjoy it even more if you'll let him know you also enjoy it. if you'll you moan while sucking him off, he’ll throw his head back and go “holy SHIT” like he wasn’t ready. “that feel good, baby? feel it in your throat, huh?”

𖹭 gets so damn nasty if you beg for it. whispering “please gimme your cum, Stan, wanna taste you,”. will make him bend you over the nearest surface right after. you won’t walk straight <3

𖹭 loves to slap your ass afterward. in a loving way of course !! praises you for ten minutes straight. then offers you a beer and tells you you’re his favorite person in the world.

𖹭 ill talk about this more later but Stan loves sitting back in an armchair, legs spread wide, hips tilted up slightly, shirt unbuttoned but still on. gripping your hair, one leg bouncing, grinning with his teeth bared. and he loves it when you’re on your back and he kneels over your face. the reverse angle makes him moan so so sooo loud

𖹭 so damn talkative, he talks through the whole thing, and this man is so good at dirty talk. “you like that?” “you’re so good at this, holy shit.” “look at that pretty mouth stretched open like that.” “fuck, sweetheart, don’t stop.”

𖹭 he has a thing for watching your lips wrap around the tip. literally whines when you take just the head and swirl your tongue.

𖹭 i mean usually it all starts with his groans and grunts but please believe me when i say he moans like a whore when receiving head. he gets really loud and needy. i just believe that Stan is the type of guy who's really loud during sex, not even just blowjob.

𖹭 he’s a thrusting type!! can’t help it, his hips stutter. if you hold onto his hips and don’t let him move, he gets desperate. he’ll beg

𖹭 oh um. . . he cums hard. like. . . i mean, stomach-twitching, thigh-clenching, head-thrown-back hard. and he doesn’t mind where. down your throat? yes. across your tongue yes. on your cheek? yeah he loves that too

𖹭 i love Stan's smile so i think afterwards he usually laughs, smiles, jokes about smth. gets so soft, rubs his thumb across your mouth. “shit, baby, that was. . .ffuckkk. c’mere. lemme kiss you.”

𖹭 doesn’t care if it’s messy. he PREFERS messy. drool, spit, tears, makes him feel like you need him. and Stan needs to be needed

𖹭 Stan likes using his fingers too. his thick thumb on your cheek, knuckles brushing your jaw, fingers pressing into your neck, anything to make it more tactile and intimate <3

𖹭 and don’t forget, this guy is sensitive emotionally too!! you touch his belly or his chest while sucking him off? please. please do it! it gets into his head in a good way. wants to be wanted

𖹭 narrates the whole thing. “jesus fuck, look at you. look at that mouth. god, you’re takin’ me so good. holy fuck, sweetheart, i could bust already, shit—”

𖹭 uh. . . yeah, Stan slaps his cock against your tongue. especially mullet Stan but i mean just any Stan, ok. just a few playfully mean taps. and then he laughs when you whine, like “what, you like that?”

𖹭 he’s touchy, he can’t sit still. one hand in your hair, the other grabbing your ass if you both in right position for it, or cupping the back of your neck. he likes to feel how far he’s in <3 sometimes he just holds your throat gently to feel the movement.

𖹭 he gets off on spitting, sometimes he’ll lean down, spit in his hand, rub it over his cock while you’re on your knees and growl “lemme get it nice and wet for you, baby” before slipping it between your lips. criminal. someone arrest him

𖹭 loves when you use both hands and mouth at once

𖹭 he spreads his thighs so wide, i mean his whole body posture is inviting. you’re the star of the show after all!!

𖹭 calls you filthy names, one of them is “my sweet little cockslut” ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idkk i don't make the rules. Stan is into degrading+praising at same time

𖹭 Stan LOVES when you gag and he’ll push in deeper when he hears it. of course if that's smth you're ok with!! that little stuttered choke noise is like a signal to him. my disgusting and wonderful man

𖹭 he gets emotional after!! maybe not weepy, but clingy, I JUST SEE HIM AS SUCH CLINGY TYPE OF BOYFRIEND. praise-heavy. “you treat me so good, baby,” as he runs his hands up your thighs, kisses your forehead, tucks your hair behind ur ears like he didn’t just mouthfuck you within an inch of your life

𖹭 if you let him cum on your tongue and stick it out after. . . plsss do!

𖹭 he’ll pretend he’s busy so you blow him while he’s working in the shack. flipping through inventory logs, “counting bills” (no, never), whatever. he’ll be behind the desk, you on your knees, and he’s mumbling numbers while you’re sucking the life out of him. “yeah. . . four jars of eyeballs and one, ugh, one perfect fuckin’ mouth. right there. . .“

𖹭 when hes getting close, his gut flexes. the belly tenses, rolls. the thighs spread wider. and he holds your head still

𖹭 alsoo Stanley doesn’t like it too silent. if you’re totally quiet, won’t look at him, don’t touch him, he’ll get nervous. he wants to know you’re into it :(

[enzosbabyangel]

OKOK

perv!ron giving into the urge to relieve his boner while sitting at a table at the three broomsticks sounds so hot 😭 HEAR ME OUT. reader whos sitting across from him picks up on this and decides to tease him (and maybe pretends to drop a fork…?👀), while the others at the table are seemingly not paying attention.

ill leave it up to you to decide who theyre sitting with and if they get caught or not 🤭🙀

☆｡° Thinking ‘bout perv!Ron giving into his urges at dinner…

cw: 18+!, mdni, perv!Ron, reader is Harry’s sister, Public masturbation, Ron kind of did things the complicated way because i feel like perv!Ron would be kind of stupid, mentions of Ron watching seemingly unaware reader masturbate, panty stealing, panty sniffing, reader is also kind of pervy, Ron gets caught by Harry lmao

a/n: first time writing in foreverr since the past week has been so busy 💔💔 Hopefully a Draco ask next, then i get to work on my boys Fred and George again ! (hoping to get all asks finished soon !)

The Gryffindor quidditch team sat around at a table at three broomsticks. The sound of celebratory chatter echoing off the walls of the building. Gryffindor won against Slytherin in today’s quidditch game, so the team decided why not celebrate by going to the three broomsticks?

It wasn’t just the team, a couple friends sat around at the table too. One of those friends being Harry’s sister who was sat across from her brother’s best friend.

Your nails were freshly done. The colour sticking out against the silver of the fork in your hand as you twirled the utensil in your noodles. Your focus on your brother as he discussed with the others about whatever one of the Slytherins did during the game that ticked him off. You decided to wear a simple, black off the shoulder short dress.

The cleavage of your breasts was noticeable thanks to the low cut of the fabric- And boy was it distracting Ron, whom, by the way, was your brother’s best friend.

Ron knew it was wrong to look at his best friend’s sister like this, but he couldn’t help it. You always managed to look so effortlessly attractive. And the sight of your cleavage certainly wasn’t helping with the boner he already had due to the magazine he was looking at before coming here.

He could feel the heat in his face spreading to his ears as you looked at him. His gaze instantly changing to look at the side as he ‘innocently’ took a sip of his butterbear.

You grinned as you looked away. Adjusting in your seat to push your chest out more. Sighing as you tuned back into the conversation going on with your brother and his friends, all while watching Ron out of the corner of your eye.

Ron side eyed you to see if you were still looking, letting out a sigh of relief as he saw that you weren’t. His eyes were then immediately drawn back to your chest- which were now more on display for him than before. If he ‘didn’t know better’, he would have thought you’d done it on purpose.

He looked back down towards his food, stuffing a bunch of chicken into his mouth while he eyed the bump straining against his jeans. Fuck, he wanted to deal with that so bad. It was practically painful how hard he was at this point.

Looking back up, Ron’s eyes scanned over the table and faces of his friends before his eyes darted to your cleavage then his pants. He bit his lip, his mind working at a million miles per minute as he debated on what to do.

What was he debating on doing? On relieving his boner in public of course. He would be lying if he were to say that the risk wasn’t turning him on even more. And he’d be a fool to pass up on an opportunity to get off to the sight of your tits that he had right in front of him.

Cautiously looking around the table, he snaked one of his hands down into his lap. Sucking in a deep breath as fiddled with the zipper of his jeans.

Your brows furrowed as you watched Ron’s actions out of the side of your eye. ‘What in the bloody hell was he doing?’ You thought to yourself. Why was he looking around the table so cautiously?

You just closed your eyes and mentally shook your head, looking back towards the rest of the table as you dismissed your curiosity away.

Ron bit his lip, attempting to appear nonchalant as he pulled his zipper down while stuffing a big piece of chicken into his mouth. Mentally cursing himself as he came to his next obstacle: Getting his pants down.

His movements momentarily halted as he sipped on his butterbear. Cautiously looking around to make sure that no one was looking at or near him. Then lifted his hips just enough to get his pants down enough before plopping back down onto his wooden seat.

Eyeing the table again to make sure no one was looking, he planted his right elbow back onto the table and continued eating. All while his eyes seemingly found its way back towards your chest.

Shit, this was risky. He knew it. But it’s not like he was that popular anyways, so who cares? besides if he must, he can use spells to risk away the memory someone would have of catching him.

His breath hitched in his throat as he ran his hand over his bulge, the slight touch already pleasureful.

With his heart practically beating in his ears, he pulled his cock out of his boxers, which were already practically soaked with precum, making for an easy type of ‘lube’ that he could spread over his cock.

He had to bite back a moan as he ran his hand- soaked with his own precum over his cock. Looking downwards and blocking out the conversation around him.

He looked back up towards your breasts and felt his cock twitch in his hand. God, the way the light shined against the roundness of your breasts was bloody beautiful. It made them looked so… shiny? in a way. He bit his lip hard while shamelessly staring at your tits. Imagining that their flesh was the pleasure he felt over his cock instead of his own hand.

“Shit..” He let out surprisingly quiet. Screwing his eyes shut as he imagined the sight of you giving him a blowjob. Rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock and imagining it was your tongue.

You, however, being directly infront of him, still heard his words leave his mouth and looked at him confused, just for even more confusion to envelope you as you saw the state he was in.

Hunched over, biting his lip, food forgotten and face red.

Raising a brow you scrutinized him closely, debating on kicking his leg to get his attention before you noticed the slight movement of his arm.

And that’s when it clicked- what he was doing. Biting his lip.. uneven breathing.. hunched posture.. red face.. you should’ve realized the second you looked at him.

You smirked, attempting to hold back a full on grin from forming on your face. Shifting in your seat as you didn’t bother hiding how you were staring at him. This was the boldest move he’s ever made. Doing something so risky in public. Well, perhaps his second boldest.

Coming first would definitely be when he snuck into your dorm. Thankfully for you, you were messing with your brother’s invisibility cloak, so Ron didn’t see you sitting on your bed while he snuck in.

You remember the night clear as day. You were messing around with the invisibility cloak that you stole from your brother’s suitcase- trying on some new lingerie you bought under it. Then you heard the door open, and instead of seeing one of your roommates, you saw Ron. And you couldn’t lie, you were quite amused watching him stroll cautiously into your room towards your dresser drawer and look around for your panties. Could you say it surprised you? No, not when you’ve caught him getting off to you masturbating and sniffing your panties before. You knew all about is pervy habits.

Your eyes darted down to your butter knife that was along the edge of the table and then glanced back to Ron. What’s the harm in playing along a bit?

You hummed nonchalantly, setting your elbows on the table and ‘accidentally’ knocking the butter knife over onto the floor. The clattering of the utensil momentarily catching everyone’s attention and halting Ron’s movements.

You let out an innocent chuckle and soft “Oops” as you got up to get it. The others laughing at you while your brother rolled his eyes, the chatter quickly starting up again.

Ron, however, watched your every movement as you got up and stepped over to your knife that fell. He could feel his breath catching in his throat as you turned your back to him. Was he really going to get this lucky? When he was already so close to bliss?

And then you bent down to pick up the utensil. Your skirt to your already smaller dress started riding up your thighs and stopping rather teasingly just below your ass.

Ron gawked at the sight, immediately trying to paint the image into his mind, framing it and putting it on a pedestal.

He wasn’t gonna waste this perfect moment, so he continued working his hand on his cock. Letting out a choked noise as he almost let out a moan. Staring shamelessly at the revealed flesh of your thighs. The light emphasizing every curve of your thighs in such a delicious way that had his cock twitching even more in his hand.

You smirked as you grabbed your knife, hearing that noise that Ron let out. Such a shameless pervert, it was cute in its own way.

You leaned back up, fixing your necklace. Leaving your skirt bunched up as you did so. Acting completely unaware to the fact that your brother’s best friend was staring at your body while jerking off in public.

Ron’s mouth gaped open as you got up. Your dress looked so fucking good on you. Hugging your body so perfectly. The bunched up skirt of your dress left your thighs on display for him. His eyes roamed from up to down your body, landing on your black heels. The strap of them wrapping around your ankles.

Jesus, you looked so fucking sexy. He couldn’t help but tighten his grip on his cock as he continued his movements, feeling the coil in his stomach threaten to snap.

You finally fixed the skirt of your dress once you fixed your necklace. Pulling it down your legs and smoothing down the fabric.

With the light and the fabric around your ass tightening as you pulled it down, Ron could see the outline of your thong that you were wearing, fabric straining against the confines of your dress.

That was the last thing he needed to be coming undone. Thick ropes of cum painting both his hand the bottom of his table.

When he came it was like the rest of the world became nonexistent. Missing the way you smirked at his panting form as you sat back down. Thank lord for the loud chatter or else surely everyone would have heard his loud pants.

As his orgasm finally came to an end, he regained his senses. Biting his lip as he stared down at his now soft cock and cum covered hand. ‘Shit… how am i supposed to clean this?’ He thought to himself as he looked up around the table. His eyes momentarily darting to you who was looking at everyone else on the table, smile on your face as you started engaging in conversation with Ginny.

He looked back down at the table towards Harry’s plate, perhaps he had a napkin? But instead of seeing a napkin, he saw Harry staring dead at him. ‘Shit..’

Ron’s eyes slowly made their way up to meet Harry’s, and what he saw was a look of shock, bewilderment and disgust. Harry’s body looking as if it was just hit with a freezing spell as it sat completely still. Only his eyes moving as he examined Ron.

Ron gulped, silently praying that Harry wouldn’t make the connection that he was getting off to his sister.

Harry narrowed his eye slightly as he seemingly snapped out of his intense stage of shock. Shaking his head slightly before continuously looking from Ron’s face down to a spot on Ron’s sweater.

Ron’s eyes immediately darted down once he registered what Harry was saying with eye movements, and he could feel his body freeze.

Sitting right there, on his dark blue sweater, was a splatter of his cum.

He stayed looking there for a couple seconds before slowly meeting Harry’s eyes again. Asking silently with a look in his eyes for help.

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ fever check

synopsis: remus keeps failing to hold your hand, and peter’s had enough. with a little scheming (and a fake fever check), you finally end up hand-in-hand with a very flustered remus content warnings: lots of fluff, meddling marauders (classic scheming), excessive pining, peter being the ultimate wingman, slight hand-holding-induced cardiac arrest (from remus, obviously) author's note: and the award for the best wingman goes to.....

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 515

You’re squinting down at your Potions textbook, trying to explain the intricacies of Veritaserum to Peter while Remus sits beside you. Remus’ hand rests close to yours, fingers tapping the edge of the book as if he’s debating something, but he just can’t bring himself to move those final inches.

Peter’s watching with barely concealed frustration. It’s been weeks now, and he’s spent nearly every study session watching Remus try and fail to make a move.

“Y/N,” Peter says suddenly, his tone oddly serious, “you look… really pale.”

You look at him, brows drawn. “What? I don’t feel sick.”

But Peter leans in, reaching for your hand and placing his own against it with a dramatically furrowed brow. “Hmm. Are you feeling hot?”

Your face heats up, and you snatch your hand away with a laugh. “Isn’t it usually done with a hand to the forehead or arm?”

Peter’s eyes narrow with a devilish glint. “My mum checks for fevers like this. Are you saying my mum is wrong? My mum, Y/N?”

You stammer, cheeks warming further. “Of course not, Pete. I— I’m just saying…”

“Hmm,” Peter hums, his grin widening, “Moony, maybe you could check her fever for me. I’d do it myself, but I’m cold, so I might not feel it right.”

Remus, caught off guard, coughs and nods, glancing from you to Peter with a soft “Sure, if you…um, if you don’t mind, Y/N.”

He reaches out, taking your hand in his own, and the second your fingers connect, he freezes. His eyes are wide, his words gone somewhere into the far reaches of his mind. Remus Lupin, the man with a response for every situation, is utterly, hopelessly silent.

“Well? Am I sick?” you ask, trying to suppress a smile, though your own heart’s racing faster than you’d care to admit.

Peter gives you both an exaggerated look of concern. “Blimey, Y/N, you must be very ill. Moony can’t even speak!”

Remus snaps out of his daze, shooting Peter a look that could only be described as a death glare, but Peter’s grinning mischievously. “I think you ought to rest, Y/N. Moony, you should probably take her back to her dorm… just to make sure she gets there safe, of course.”

Remus grits his teeth at Peter, but he hasn’t let go of your hand. “Oh, really, Pete? You sure you don’t need more help with Potions?”

“Nah,” Peter says with a mock salute, winking as he gestures to the door. “You two go ahead. I’m fine.”

The walk to your dorm is filled with an awkward, sweet silence, neither of you quite brave enough to break the spell. Every so often, you glance down at your joined hands, wondering if you should pull away, but you don’t. And neither does he.

Meanwhile, from behind a nearby bookshelf, James and Sirius burst out, clapping their hands and howling with glee. “Agent Peter, job well done!” Sirius exclaims, ruffling Peter’s hair. “But why did it take so long? Do you know how painful it is to sit through hours of Potions talk?”

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.

just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.

Thank you for requesting lovely!

poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words

You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash. 

“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch. 

“Now one with you,” James urges. 

“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?” 

“James has long arms,” you say.

"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."

After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button. 

It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other. 

James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?” 

“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.” 

James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”

“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.” 

The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well. 

“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts. 

“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.” 

You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face. 

“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.” 

“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge. 

“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.” 

“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.” 

“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.” 

“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside. 

“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.” 

“Nope.” 

“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” 

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.” 

“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially. 

“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.” 

Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.” 

“Wimp,” James teases. 

“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?” 

“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

You frown at him. “Why?” 

He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend. 

“James!”

[glowstick-cafe]

Nostalgia gets the Best of Us

Elijah "Smoke" Moore, Elias "Stack" Moore x Black!Female!Reader

⚠️MDNI⚠️//Content: smut, mentions of religion in passing, cunnilingus, PiV

Word count:2,197

"You've been gone since 2023” God forbid I show support for my people in their time of need 😒

Ao3 link ver.

After a day of hard work a lady often just wants to have fun and dance the night away, is that so much to ask for?

Word quickly spread through Mississippi overnight of a new club that was owned by a pair of infamous twins—it couldn't be. Club Juke, your friends said the name was, how cute.

As you walked up to the rustic looking building there was a long line of people waiting to be let in, music from the inside of the club reverberated through your ears just begging you to join in on the fun.

You were going to walk right in without a care until the unsure call of your name made you turn your head.

The familiar voice brought a smile to your lips, “Damn girl! Where you been? Haven't seen yer face since you moved away for that fancy job.” Spoke Cornbread. Honestly, you were delighted to see an old familiar face.

“Oh please, you never catch me when I visit.” You huffed in a playful frustration, but before you could carry on your conversation the line of people behind you hurled bouts if complaints your way, cutting the reunion with your old friends short. Cornbread clicked his tongue and sent you on in.

“The twins are in for a treat when they see you.” The heavy-set man chuckled to himself and shook his head as you kept pushing further into the club, unaware of the band of old faces you would be seeing.

You managed to move through the crowd in sync with the music, body swaying in tandem with the tune.

Spotting your friends in the distance, a smile made its way to your face—happy to finally be surrounded by the people you actually came here to party with; but as luck would have it, the wind was suddenly knocked out of you when a man who was dancing crashed his back into you.

Before you could fall over, a man in a blue suit came to your aid, his hand placement seemed awfully friendly but you were too disoriented to comment on it; only focusing on how harshly he berated the man for simply having two left feet.

“If you don't watch where you steppin’ on the young lady then I think we're gonna have a problem.” He threatened. The poor man nodded his head to show his understanding of the situation and booked it to the other side of the room as fast as the booming crowd allowed.

“Now, enjoy yourself lil’ lady.” He laughed, now removing his arm from your waist only to move them to your shoulders.

“Who do you think yer’ callin’-” You were about to give a smart response, but held your tongue when you finally made eye contact with your hero.

A flash of recognition glazed over his eyes, while a look of mortification graced yours. You’re sure he could feel the goosebumps on your skin when your name left his mouth.

“Smoke…”

Seeing the man in front of you could only mean that his other half couldn't be far away, which wouldn’t bode well for you if they both got their hands on you.

Smoke said your name again, this time it made you flinch and all the childhood memories of puppy love and broken promises came baring its claws at you.

Oh the Smoke-Stack twins, if people were to pick out the type of crowd the twins usually tend to draw in, you probably wouldn’t be their go-to guess—but some would say you were in the right place at the right time, or that you were just really unlucky; but something that couldn't be debated among anyone back then was that those boys cherished you.

-

A pastor's daughter and regular church goer, that's what all the grown folks would refer to you as, never truly by your name.

Growing up, your father and everyone who knew him spoke ill of the pair of twins who would often be finding themselves in trouble.

Don't get mixed up in company like that…

You told yourself, but unfortunately that prayer seemed to have fallen on deaf ears seeing as how the trouble found you instead. The twins seemed to have been drawn in by all the alarm bells that were meant to actually keep them away.

Once the boys got their hand on you, the three of you made for an interesting group, if anything, the adults thought that maybe you were just the right influence they needed to steer them on the right track—Unfortunately for them, this ended up having the opposite effect.

To be fair, you were never rude to those who showed you respect, but the twins’ ‘Don't take shit from anyone’ attitude rubbed off on you hard.

Stack seemed more receptive to your usual kind nature and would often let you have your way with him, even letting their dreams of moving to Chicago slip out, but the other brother was the one who forced you to develop a sharp tongue; Smoke's jabs often bordered on scathing to just actual bullying.

When you finally matched his energy the boy was at a loss for words, just gave a click of the tongue and a, “Whatever man…” Smoke wouldn’t admit it but he was a little proud of you for a split second, just minus Stacks’ frame doubled over in laughter.

Tender moments were few and far between when is came to them, but in the off chance they let you near their hair; a matching set of conrows would send you over the moon. It was your idea of bonding and also one of the rare moments where Smoke never had anything to comment on.

You’d like to think you both found common-ground on those days.

So why were you so mad to see him after all these years?

There weren't any signs of a falling out brewing. Just an abrupt departure that left you torn; everyone around you said ‘It's for the best.’ or that you should ‘Let it go…’ but it took years to get over being abandoned like that.

No letter.

No goodbye

Nothing…

-

You were honestly surprised that you remembered their faces after all these years.

Blinking those memories away, your mortified expression turned into anger. “You've gotta be kiddin’ me, you n’ your brother run off to Chicago doin’ God knows what, then you two turn back up with a place like this after the state you both left me in?!”

“So you're not happy to see us?” Stack questioned, inserting himself into the conversation.

Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, these men haven't changed, they're still the same smug little boys who left you in the dust for Chicago.

“Look now, we know how we left things wasn't…ideal but—we all grown up now.” Stack spoke, stationed himself behind you while his hand found its way to your waist. “We can handle this like adults.” His words echoed through the covers of your mind.

There was no denying the twins were attractive physically and their personalities had their own appeal to it, you would know, you grew up with them.

You'd be stupid to deny that you hadn’t thought about them in a romantic sense, but you were a grown woman now; you didn't have to unpack resurfacing emotions that you may have had toward your childhood friends.

Your eyes looked up to Smoke to see how he was taking the situation. His hands seemed casually nestled in his pockets while his pupils searched for an answer in yours, he motions a questioning head tilt as if to say, ‘Well?’

The music and surroundings seemed to slow as you looked around. “Fine…” You agreed, you hoped that you hadn’t sounded too eager, but you don't miss the subtle smile on Smoke's lips as you were being directed into what you were sure was a closet.

The twins sat you on a small table in the oddly spacious closet, it was already risky in your eyes to have been seen with the two, but whatever they were planning to do would have the town in hysterics for months to come.

One hand around your neck, and the other gripped both your thighs. The twins couldn't let you slip away like you always did, they had to have you this time.

Stack hiked up the skirt of your dress, he flashed you a charming smile as he looked up at you from between your legs. It left you feeling hot and embarrassed, yet he hadn't even laid a finger on you yet.

Smoke held your arms in place as Stack began to indulge himself in your dripping folds, his tongue borrowed itself into your slick hole as you managed out a moan.

“Let it out mama.” Smoke encouraged as his mouth made its home on your neck; leaving hickeys and spit wherever he saw fit while his free hand found its way to groping your breasts.

You were being overloaded on pleasure from every angle and all Smoke was doing was taunting you like he always did, “What was all that noise back there for, hmm?” His low, but playful voice teased as he pinched and squeezed at your nipple.

His hand then moved up to your mouth, fingers playing and prodding with your lips. “Did princess just need our attention?” Smoke was always great at getting people riled up, this instance was no different; the man's digits forced its way into your mouth, rings n’ all.

“Suck.” He commanded, and suck you did. The man could only scoff playfully at your obedience, it was clear to both twins that you could melt in their hands at any moment.

The more Stack nibbled and licked at your cunt, the more whiny and desperate your moans became, the more you rocked your hips to the rhythm of the man's mouth.

“Easy girl…” Stack spoke between your legs, his grip on your thighs tightening as if to hold you in place.

You send a hum of protest through Smoke's fingers at the brother who seemed to be getting off on your cries of pleasure.

“What, cat got ya’ tongue?” Stack laughed as he zoned back in on his main goal.

The deeper he sank his mouth into your slit, the closer you got to the edge. Your body writhed against his tongue as one of your hands broke free and made its way to the back of his head, which only seemed to encourage him more.

Fuck…

At this rate you were gonna-

Your body froze as the shock of your orgasm washed over your body, for a moment you swore the party going on outside ceased to exist. Stack removed himself from between the space in your legs, looking quite pleased with himself; the man flashed a smile at you, showing off his grillz.

Before you could catch your breath, the two brothers switched places and now Stack was behind while Smoke was right in front of you.

“You didn't think we were done with you, right princess?” Stack said, an amused grin graced his face as the sound of belts unbuckling made your breath hitch.

If it weren’t for the table holding you up, you know damn well that your knees would have given out.

Your face grew warmer as you felt Smoke gently push your legs apart, his length resting against your thighs. “If it gets too much, tell me.” He stated in a stern manner before sinking his cock into your sex.

The action was so fast that Stack failed to quiet your shaky moans that grew louder as his brother mercilessly pounded into your cunt. The sound of skin slapping in tandem with each other filled the room.

Strings of curses waterfalled from your mouth that made Stack laugh, he made a joke about having a dirty mouth for a pastor's kid; but you would have to appreciate it later when you're not about pass out from sheer pleasure.

“P…Please, Elijah…make me cum!”

Smoke's cock twitched inside you at brief the mention of his name, it was like a switch was flipped in his brain that made him speed up.

You were nearing the finish line of your inevitable high, with each thrust you were sure your vision was making you see dots. The final nail in the coffin was when the man leaned into your ear to say, “God I missed you…”

Your eyes fluttered shut as the satisfaction of both your orgasms washed over you, and a content sigh escaped your lips as Smoke removed himself from between your legs and there's a beat of almost comfortable silence in the air, “I meant that, by the way.” Smoke spoke up, trying to make himself look decent again.

“How we left you back then, it had nothing to do with you.” Stack continued for his brother, “We were…just protecting you in a way we thought would help back then.”

You listened to their explanations as you slipped back on your dress. “I didn't need protection, I just wanted the two of you to be there.”

“We're here now.”

Saw yall were dying over here on tumblr so I decided to chip in and finish this fic lol

Btw I can't promise that this is my comeback era

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

I have no clue how this guy hasn't divorced his wife. If my partner looked at me with disgust about anything that wasn't literally disgusting, I'd be googling "divorce lawyer."

by Sam Williams

A week ago, my wife and I went to John Lewis to look at air fryers. As we entered the store, I put on an FFP3 mask because of Covid. My wife looked at me in disgust and said, “Oh, you’re wearing a mask?” I replied, “Yes. There’s a lot of Covid around, and I don’t want it. Do you?”

She responded, “Well, the trouble is, I’m not wearing a mask”.

I said, “Yes, I can see that. I wish you would. The trouble is, every time I’ve caught Covid, it’s been from you. I’m disabled with long COVID, and every time I get reinfected, it makes me really, really ill”.

So here’s my question: does my wife not care?

I want to use this piece to spark a debate about who we are as people. Are we kind and virtuous, or are we selfish and indifferent? Writing an article about what stops people from wearing masks, while I live with the pain caused by my wife not masking, feels like an oddly meta activity.

That’s right, folks: it was probably my wife who gave me Covid in the first place. Although, to be fair, neither of us knew about masking or long Covid back then.

The case for masks amid rising Covid I need people to wear masks or ensure clean air so it’s safe for me to go out—especially in healthcare settings. Yet, most people refuse. I asked my wife why she doesn’t wear a mask, and she said, “There’s no point, because nobody else does.”

I understand the futility in her statement. Many people don’t wear masks simply because they don’t care or because they think Covid is over.

If my wife were a cruel or unkind person, it would be easier to accept her refusal to wear a mask. But in my experience, even many kind people—even those on the political Left—can be cruel when it comes to disabled individuals.

Although my wife has struggled with my disability, she is generally a kind person. In my autistic brain, it seems perfectly logical that she should wear a mask to protect me from airborne viruses. Yet, logic loses when it comes to personal choices and disability.

Misconceptions about Covid and masks People think Covid is “just a cold.” Some even believe masks themselves make you ill. I think people don’t mask because of ableism and because they’ve been conditioned to associate masks with the pandemic itself.

It’s the same conditioning that leads them to blame lockdowns and vaccines for Covid, rather than recognising these measures were designed to mitigate its spread.

When people see me in a mask, they’re reminded of the acute phase of the pandemic. My presence confronts them with an uncomfortable truth: their refusal to mask contributes to the deaths and disabling of others. It reveals they may not be as caring as they like to think.

I wish more people would remember the Covid dead and choose to wear a mask to prevent further loss of life.

Why people don’t mask The biggest reason, I believe, is a failure of public health communication over wearing a mask. The government declared Covid “over,” and most people still trust what they’re told. Many would resume masking if asked, but the government is too afraid of the right-wing media and too indifferent to disability to make that request.

Then there’s the pervasive idea of “health supremacy”:

The belief that only people with pre-existing conditions get long Covid.

The notion that a “healthy” immune system can fight off the virus.

The argument that we don’t need vaccines or other preventative measures.

Some even suggest that “living your best life” and going out for brunch are more important than protecting loved ones. The low mortality rate of Covid is used as justification, with a dismissive attitude towards the elderly and those with long Covid.

Many fail to consider the quality of life endured by those with long Covid or the rising number of children affected. Parents, it seems, don’t care enough about their kids, or they’re unaware that long COVID in children has doubled in the past year.

There’s also peer pressure and groupthink. No one wants to stand out by wearing a mask. “If it were really unsafe, wouldn’t everyone else wear one? Wouldn’t the authorities tell us to mask up?”

When I do convince others to wear masks, it’s usually a flimsy surgical one—barely adequate protection.

The personal cost of not wearing a Covid mask If we continue as we are, everyone will eventually develop long Covid. Those who still mask are only delaying the inevitable because we’re so outnumbered.

I know people who’ve lost friendships and family connections over masking. Others restrict their contact with loved ones to stay safe. Some have even been lied to by family members about masking.

And all because people must have brunch.

It feels grossly unfair to be forced to choose between family and health. For me, it’s not just about Covid. With a weakened immune system, other airborne viruses are just as harmful. Every cold or similar illness sets me back by months.

The fatalist in me whispers: stop masking. If no one else is wearing a mask, why fight it – just let long Covid take me. Every reinfection only worsens my condition.

A systemic failure The government—New Labour or otherwise—has shown little interest in preventing the spread of Covid or developing treatments for long Covid. The societal denial of this reality is overwhelming.

Until we build a society and government centred on community and care instead of selfish individualism, we’re doomed. Is thinking of others really too much to ask?

If only long Covid weren’t an invisible disability. If it caused something visible—like the loss of a limb—perhaps people would be forced to act.

The point of wearing a mask: not just for Covid Here’s why masking matters:

It reduces your viral load if you get infected.

It sets a good example for others.

It shows courage and strength.

It protects vulnerable people, including the disabled, chronically ill, and immunosuppressed.

It proves you have empathy and intelligence.

[desigal-26]

Im the person who sent in the last ask about praising ur smut and since u said general thoughts/requests are fine so I come with a request! Id love something smut with aemond, you can even do a part 2 with your latest aemond work! I think that would work well, and if it's not too crazy maybe breeding kink for heirs yknow

Thank you for your ask. Requests are always well-appreciated, no matter if they are vague or too detailed.

Sweet Girl

Aemond Targaryen x Sister-Wife!Reader

Read Part One here

He was the storm that was feared by everyone, and she was the thunderclap that followed him with a morbid curiosity for chaos

The new King has a new Queen Consort. The royal couple—the newest envy of every man and woman. But little do they know of the chaos that follows them out of the Small Council chambers to their rooms—and sometimes even in the Small Council chambers.

Warnings:- MDNI, 18+ content, Targcest, Sort of Exhibition Kink, Breeding kink, Fingering, PiV, Fingering, Unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), Dirty talking, Aemond being unhinged, Nicknames

Word Count: 2.2k

Aemond was only a single second’s patience away from slamming someone’s head into the table that acted as the centre piece of the Small Council’s chamber—much in the manner that Criston Cole had done during the meeting immediately after his father’s death. The table was the sole place where the realm’s most crucial and powerful decisions were made, the future of the realm was fabricated carefully by the most cunning of minds.

The debate had been going on for far too long—far too lacklustre to keep the King was yawning almost unnoticeable into his fist while his gaze swept over every lord that now sat his table—all loyal to him, either by oath or by fear. He didn’t mind either, though oath could be broken. Fear? Now, that was forever embedded in someone’s mind.

House Frey was proving to be hard to bend the knee. Their demands stood high, and for a moment, the One-Eyed King thought of burning the whole house down and be done with the matter for all. But then, his sister’s cunning yet soft voice whispered in the ears of his mind, telling him to keep his calm and to treat the fragile political bonds of the realm with care—especially, now when everything can fall apart by only a little mistake.

The realm is moistened mud, she had said the other day, explaining carefully to him the reason to not deal with anything too harshly. Because treating wet mud with force leads not to formation of anything but disruption—and the House of the Dragon, or what was left of it, could not afford any new rebellions or civil wars anymore.

“We shall discuss these matters tomorrow now, my lords.” Aemond blinked at the firm command by his sister-wife, biting back a half smirk as the lords of the Great Houses looked at her startled, clearly taken aback at being dismissed by a Queen Consort.

Never before had a Queen sat in the Council meetings were it not for ill health of the King, not at least after the era of the Conqueror. But that had changed now, because the One-Eyed King would not reduce his fiery wife to a mere showpiece for the court. Instead, he was supplying air to that fire, letting it grow and dance in the rhythms of a music only she could hear. All while he watched with pride, and a glass of wine.

The lords of the Small Council had turned to him, expecting a word of protest but all they received was a dismissive nod. He didn’t acknowledge him apart from that, his gaze focused on the way his sweet sister reclined in the chair on his right. Her silver hair, braided and adorned by small silver dragons, glistened under the candlelight that flickered around the room. Her eyes—so identical to his—watched him back with a sly smile and a crooning voice.

“See something that intrigue you, your grace?”

His gaze traveled down from the sly smile on her plump lips to the slope of her neck, bared by the low cut of her dress’s neckline that dipped just enough to provide him with a peak of what laid beneath the velvet fabric that wrapped her perfectly—hiding the picturesque view of her bare skin that he had indulged in since that evening in his study.

Their mother would frown up the thought if she ever found out. But how could he resist her when she looked as she did that night and then every night that he could count. Long hair, so identical to his but only more curled, left loose and out of their intricate designs. Muscles relaxed and breaths deep, accentuating the curve of her bosom hidden from his eye under the fabrics of green. Lips curled in a perfect smirk that sent blood right down his trousers.

She was perfect in a manner that was hard to explain to anyone—to put her beauty into words was to limit her beauty to there.

To the realm, she was the Queen Consort whose prophecy had shaken the roots of the royal family. But to him, she was his sweet girl—the very same that begged to be fucked prettily almost every night, who let him indulge in whatever dark fantasies his mind could conjure, who moaned loud enough to wake the entire Maegor’s Keep when he nestled deep into her folds, or the one who pleaded to him to breed her like a good wife she was.

Aemond felt his breeches tightening as his mind brought up the images of the last night and the night before it, and the one before it. The sweet tears of overwhelming pleasure that rolled down her cheeks. The broken moans and the hoarse voice from screaming his name with every orgasm that wrecked through her perfect body. The purple marks that he had gifted her, staking his claim over and over in form of his release inside her and the budding bruises that were carefully hid beneath her dress and jewellery.

“Come here, sweet girl,” he growled, his gaze darkening with uncontrollable desire.

The Queen Consort only raised an eyebrow, her gaze flitting over to the four King’s Guard that stood unflinching yet quiet nervously near the double doors. She had no problem in indulging her husband in herself, quite the opposite—but not with their guards trying to act like they weren’t seeing anything.

Aemond only smirked, waving his hand to dismiss the four guards who quickly turned on their feet, opening the door and marching out before closing it behind them. The silence that followed was thick enough to be cut by the Valyrian steel that laid on the table with a quiet reverence. The blade that once belonged to Aegon the Conqueror—now had a new owner in the One-Eyed King.

His wife watched him quietly, sitting up a bit straighter before she finally followed his old order. Her dress fluttered around her feet as she stood up, cautiously approaching him with her hands intertwined in front of herself.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, wife?” It was a rhetorical question, one delivered with an all-knowing smirk and casual arrogance of a man self-assured. His fingers drummed against the wood, eye watching her with an intensity that had her shying away despite that not being in her nature at all. His other hand—the one closer to her—snaked around her waist once she was close enough, pulling her closer until his breath fanned over the exposed skin right above the curve of her tits.

She gasped his name, her hands flying to hold her balance, fingers dipping into his broad shoulders. His fingers dung into the fabric clinging to her waist, tasting the feel of it beneath his fingertips—savouring it.

“Someone might interrupt,” she whispered, breathlessly. Her own light eyes had darkened but she was practising more restrain than her husband—only she didn’t know that he was far too gone and won’t listen to any reason she might have.

“Then let them.” The growl followed by him standing up to his full height had her breath hitching, bodies pressed against each other, restrained by the suffocating clothes that felt too warm against their heated skin. His head tilted down, lips trailing the delicate curve of her ear before his teeth sank into it, drawing out a surprised whimper that echoed in the silent room.

He walked her backwards until the back of her thighs brushed against the edge of the Small Council table. His hands had ventured on their own task, exploring the curves he had memorised all too well in the past few weeks, tugging at the dress that covered the most delicious of her parts.

Slowly, one of his hand pushed up the hem of her dress, pushing her to lean more on the table while his feet hooked on the insides of her legs, pulling them apart to give him easier access to her most intimate part—the one that belonged to him and him alone.

His hand slipped in, gathering the wetness that had gathered in between her thighs, a slow smug smirk tugging on his lips while he trailed down kisses over the expanse of her neck, whispering huskily, “so perfect for me, little sister. All made for me.” She only moaned in response, buckling against his hand while her knees weakened.

“Ae-Aemond, please…” she begged, but for what she didn’t know. Maybe for him to stop teasing, or for him to continue to torture her, to slowly bring her closer and closer to release before deprive her of the peak that shatters her completely.

He bit down on her neck, right above the place where her pulse thrummed in anticipation of what was to come for sure. She clung to him—desperate and wanting the climax only he could bring her to—begging with her wide eyes.

Gone was the Realm’s Oleander and in her place was Aemond’s sweet girl. The one who listened to every little noise he made and was made to please him.

“Turn around, wife.”

She gulped, body weak from his ministrations but thrumming with excitement as she did what he demanded on shaking legs. He towered over her from behind, his hand gently pushing her forward, bending her over the table where the realm’s future was dangled on thread on daily basis. The thrill of it sent a shiver down her spine, straight to her glistening core while her chest heaved against the tight confines of her dress.

Aemond reached down, fingers curling into the deep green of her dress and pushing it up to her hips, baring her damp folds to the cool air of the Small Council’s chamber. The little whine that echoed in the room fell on deaf ears while his one hand moved to rub circles on her clit while the other loosened the laces of his breeches, pushing them down enough to pull out his hand and angry length.

Two of his long fingers entered her slowly, a groan leaving his lips as her walls welcomed the digits home, sucking them in like they belonged there—which they did. He started to thrust them in and out, drawing heavy pants and little moans while she begged for more greedily. But the One-Eyed King was in a generous mood and decided not to prolong her torture.

Removing his fingers from her warmth, his wrapped them around his cock, coating them with her own wetness before he moved closer to her. The mushroom head of his length pushed past the plush and wet folds, straight into the embrace of her warm walls that hugged his length desperately. His hands found her hips, pushing back the hem of her dress to watch the bare flesh of her ass against his pelvis.

A groan echoed through the room, obscene noises following as he started to move inside her. Her fingers clung to the table in order to find some purchase while the intensity of his thrusts rocked it altogether.

“So tight, so wet…all for me, sweet girl?” One of his hand moved from her bare hips, travelling up to find her hair and fist them before tugging up at them. His other hand loosened the laces holding her dress together, baring a sliver of skin of her back.

She nodded, unable to form words or coherent thoughts in her mind, but a harsh tug of her hair had her whimpering out the answer. “Yes…yes, all for you.”

The smug grin on his face was hard to wipe out as he hastily pulled down her dress from the top, baring her full tits that brushed against the table with every thrust, nipples pebbled by the stimulation.

“Ae-Aemond,” she squeaked as he pounded hard into her, wet noises filling the air between growled out words and moaned pleas.

“I will breed you so well, little sister.” He punctuated with a rough thrust that had her gasping for breath, one of her hand moving down to cup his. Her walls clenched at his words, making him chuckle breathlessly as he leaned over her—his clothed chest brushing against her scarcely bare back.

His hot breath fanned the side of her face, growling filthy words into her ear.

“You will look so good, all round and full with my child in you. Your pretty tits overflowing with milk for our son. Your puffy cunt welcoming for me and him.”

Her lips parted in silent scream, the knot in her lower stomach close to snapping. She begged him to go faster, to breed her like she was supposed to be, and he complied without any hesitation.

A loud moan filled the room as she came, but Aemond didn’t stop. Instead, he was chasing his own high, while his mind conjured up images of her, round and desperate for him while carrying his heir in her stomach. That image alone, mixed with her loud noises were enough for him to come inside her, filling her fertile womb with his potent release.

A part of him hoped that his seed takes place, but another one, a selfish, darker part of him hoped not. After all, that gave him just more opportunity to breed his sweet, little wife.

[pinkaditty]

Love Type (Tokyo Debunker Ghouls)

hey me again i said id be back quickly and i did mean that.

this will have been queued for an hour at least by the time u see it. rn as i type this im debating using the taglist. i think ill use it. sorry 4 so many tags in a day, i bet ur sick of me

anyways! i had this idea while i was writing the perv!sho x reader thing. i thought about the differences between the ghouls and how they all love differently. at first i wasn't gonna post this, but then my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it so now this exists. its not meant 2 be a useful organization tool 4 the ghouls it's just something i had a little bit of fun with.

note that not every single ghoul is going 2 match the category he was put in exactly. for example, ghouls like luca, yuri, romeo, and even haru could probably fit in more than one of these categories, but i put them in the ones i thought suited them best. wanna discuss? leave a comment or an ask! ill be happy 2 talk it through with u <3.

yes i DID put in hcs about how long they last sexually. no i do NOT regret it. im speaking my TRUTH!!!

The Lover Boys:

Haku, Haru, Sho, Luca, Zenji, Rui

do not last long but recover fast and can go multiple rounds 

prefer switching up their roles (dom→sub, sub→dom) more often 

they love like it's an incurable chronic terminal disease. it's never leaving them.

all-consuming, takes up most their time, they're drowning and falling and losing their minds 4 u

You like to tell yourself you're prepared, but is that ever really true? No, not really. The way his voice drops several octaves into a low purr just from seeing you should've been warning enough as to what you were in for. You didn't expect the all-consuming, suffocating love he'd trapped you in, but were you really complaining? As far as you were concerned, you were also convinced it was meant to be, and if he was a little crazy about it, that was a small price to pay. Of course, you eventually learn why he's crazy about it - he's never had it. The truest feeling of connection, the ability to just let it all go in one person's presence, the time to really feel another person. It's eluded him for so long, and now he has it, but it's threatened by a curse, something he cannot control. It's frightening, and though he tried not to, he ultimately buries you in his love, trying to find a way to make it last. It's okay though. As the threat wanes, so will his suffocation. The love will always be intense, but he will learn how to do it right. 

The Lost Boys:

Towa, Taiga, Jiro, Ed

they last so unbelievably long u don't know how they do it

love in more subtle ways bc 2 them, true love is quiet 

they will do loud and bold professions of it, but the real love is displayed quietly 

prefer 2 stick 2 one role (either dom or sub), not super flexible 

The occasional huge flower bouquet, expensive jewelry set, or new bag were thoughtful, but mostly just for show. He reveled in the attention, the jealous stares, the sucking of teeth, the eye rolls - all of it. Because he had you, not them. But that, of course, isn't all there is to it. While he may be relatively distant in public despite the extravagant gifts, he's rather sweet and attentive in private. He hides it better than a LoverBoy, but in truth, his heart bleeds just like theirs, and he feels the need to consistently strive to win your affections. You're amongst great people, after all. How can he make sure he stands out, all the time, just for you? You understand this, of course, and you're always quick to reassure him. He will give and give and give and give, in so many ways. You almost think he's bottomless, what with how much of himself he offers up, nearly all the time. But it's alright. He will learn to remind himself that he need not give himself away to bits simply to keep your attention, especially when he's already the apple of your eye. The gifts never stop though, and neither does his obvious enjoyment in the attention it gets you. He will never stop showing you off.

The Tragic Boys:

Leo, Subaru, Ren, Kaito, Yuri

love fluctuates. intense then quiet, hot then cold, all-consuming then insignificant 

very transparent ghouls with few layers. what u see is what u get.

often don't last long and take longer to recover 

a little more flexible with role changing, but do have solid preferences 

You are never, ever prepared. He's like a pendulum, swaying back and forth between endless, bountiful devotion and a cold shoulder the following day. He's not sure how to handle this love he has for you. It's unfamiliar, it's big, it's loud, it's petrifying. He's scared he'll do something wrong, and on those days when the fear eats him alive, he closes up, rejecting your presence. But then, he sees how down you are, and knows that wasn't right, so the following day he's at your beck and call. He'll do whatever you ask, just say the word and it's done, for you. His fatal flaw is that he never communicates his deep-seated fears, instead choosing to let them rumble in his gut and disrupt your relationship as a consequence. He wants you, though, and he never wants you to doubt that. He'll communicate eventually, the words spilling out before he can think much of them, apologies and desperate sobs with them. He won't shut down anymore after this, choosing to remain like an open book for you to read at any time. He will learn to hold you the right way, without clamming up nervously when you tell him he's perfect. 

The Silent Boys: 

Tohma, Romeo, Ritsu, Lyca, Alan, Jin

their love is consistent 

never changes, always with immense depth, but never readily apparent 

love is like a pretty serene waterfall with unseen strong currents capable of killing someone 

like to switch it up every now and again (mayyybe dom→sub, sub→dom yk)

last moderately. some might finish fast, some might take a while.

His attitude and demeanor towards you hardly change. He loves you, and he's serious about it, but that won't mean special treatment, extra gifts, or public displays of love. He will love you exactly as he always has, and sees nothing wrong with it. His love is in how he looks out for you, how he worries for you despite himself, how he may allow himself a small smile when you approach, or a sigh heavy laden with devotion, after you wrap your arms around him, and before he pushes you off of him. It's okay because you know how his heart beats erratically in his chest when you approach, which he's strangely good at hiding. You know how his breath hitches in his throat every time he sees you, his eyes glazing over like you're a vision to be committed to memory. You know how he treasures you, his love hidden under his vast sea of responsibilities. Peel the layers back and you'll see he's yours in all ways that matter, but he also knows he can't let that get in the way of his daily life. Once he has the time, and is no longer bearing the weight of prying eyes and overwhelming expectations, he'll build his life around you, to make sure you feel centered in his life, as he does in yours.

well if nobody really likes these at least i had fun. amen!

no blurb 2 put here except that i have a ren fic incoming soon bc my regular [🐟] anon went crazy in my inbox about that boy and his damn collarbones.

y'all have a wonderful day im so tired.

taglist: @cupcakesmoothie @aayakashii @sunskosh @despairingy-obsessed @glamorousspoon @mmy-meow @dailyvahine @diluxama @obscuarysghoulnextdoor @disassociationdive

want 2 join or be removed from the tkdb taglist? let me know!

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Blasphemous Rumours

Warnings: 18+, smut, hierophilia, sacrilegious acts, priest kink, fucking on an altar, suggestive themes in a confessional, riding a rosary(?...), hair pulling, biting, light blood play, exhibitionism, suggestive themes during mass, probably smth else but i don’t remember. nothing too crazy🧌. im debating on linking the playlist i wrote this to, but it would kinda get rid of the anonymity of this account…. ~nero :)

Father Paul Hill x female!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

You hated this fuckin ferry. 

You loved your family but you never understood why they never left that island. When you found your way out you left without a second thought. Vowing to never settle here again but that didn’t mean you’d never visit your family. Usually for the holidays you made your way back out here, but this time you just had a break in your schedule and wanted to visit. Wanting to visit didn’t trump the hatred you had for riding this fucking ferry though. 

To be completely honest you didn’t hate the ride itself but rather how the journey made you smell like a feeding bucket at Seaworld. The evening sun was gracing you with its last bit of warmth as it began to tuck itself behind the horizon. Against the cool mist of the water for a split moment, you almost understood the appeal of this lifestyle.

Almost. 

The ferry pulled up to the dock and your eyes fell on the shoreline meeting some abandoned nets and dried out seaweed. The seagulls' mews echoed as you exited the boat. Grabbing your bags you took a deep breath as your feet hit the sand and you began the trek up to your family home. 

Nothings changed. 

It’s been years and everything still looked the same. The houses, the people, hell even the smells were the same. It was uncanny. You saw the church in the distance and were relieved knowing that you could finally lay your bags down soon. As you passed the church your eyes landed on a relatively young man standing outside, a warm smile welcoming anyone that passed by. Styx-colored locks, a slender frame, and a face that looked ever so familiar. Pressing your lips together in a close-lipped smile and waved at him making a mental note to speak to him later. 

Your family’s house was only two doors down from the church and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see them. Knocking on the front door you eagerly waited to see who would see your face first. 

“Coming!” 

You heard faintly from the other side and you were greeted by the face of your mother. 

“Y/n! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you!” 

She embraced you immediately, nearly squeezing the life out of you. 

“Hi, Mom.” You chuckled 

Over her shoulder, you saw your little sister, Briar, smirking at you trying her best not to laugh at your current situation. Your mom pulled you into the house motioning for you to come eat dinner as you arrived just in time. 

“Please, come eat. We’ll worry about your bags later. You came just in time to go to mass with us after.”

Mass? Why so late?

“Mass? Did you guys miss it this morning or something?” 

Washing your hands you turned around to face your family as you dried them. Before you sat down at the table your dad came from around the corner physically interjecting himself into the conversation as your mom spoke. 

“No, they happen—hi dear, they happen in the evening now. A new priest has been filling in for the Monsignor. Apparently, while he left for his trip to Jerusalem he fell terribly ill. Such a shame. But Father Paul is phenomenal! I think you’ll like him.”

Your mom looked at you with a knowing smile and you knew exactly what she was teasing you about. You rolled your lips around your teeth and began to eat, swallowing a sly comment. 

After you guys finished dinner, you fixed yourself for mass. Although you weren’t religious on your own time, you did it for your family while you were here. Plus, it allowed you time to wrestle with your feelings with Christ to see if it really wasn’t for you. Your relationship with God or whoever was out there was complicated. Wildly complicated. You knew in your heart that you were a formal sinner yet you lacked the guilt that should’ve come with that. 

If anything, you relished in it. You loved being entangled with the feeling of sin, it made you feel alive. You felt so strangled as a kid with religion, as if every move you made was under scrutiny so when you found the courage to separate yourself, you may have overindulged in things that were impious in nature. 

Just as you were this evening, clad in a low-cut tank top, a hoodie, jeans, and slip-on Vans. If you felt you didn’t belong in Crockett before, you definitely visually fit the part now. Looking like a complete foreigner in comparison to everyone else. You screamed city. From your clothes, and makeup, even down to the way you spoke. You tried your best to eradicate every trace of Crockett when you left but there was one thing you couldn’t scrub away. 

God. 

God always found a way to squirm His way around your brain and tether you to this island. 

“Y/n! You ready, honey?” 

“Yeah!”

Spraying yourself with a light perfume you walked out into the front room where your family was waiting for you. Filing out the door, the walk to the church was quick which was something you despised as a kid and you could feel those same feelings bubbling up as you neared its entrance. It was as if God was mocking you, knowing that you had such an internal feud with whether or not you believed, what was right and wrong, and if you even had a sliver of faith left within you. 

Sitting down in the pews next to your family, you felt at home once the incense filled your nose. The strange feeling of comfort washing over you as memories of your childhood flashed in front of you. The tottering organ that was moments away from wood decay, the massive crucifix in the center arch of the back of the church, and the haunting glow from the warm ambient lighting had you questioning yourself once again. You swallowed the thought, deciding that nostalgic comfort was weighing out your need for logic. 

You were pulled from your thoughts as everyone around you rose to your feet and the chimes of the bell echoed through the building. It was at this point that you realized how many people were stuffed into the pews. Mass was never like this as a kid. 

He’s either the hottest thing known to man or he’s sent from God himself. 

Anticipation settled in your stomach and you fought the smile that was begging to stretch your lips. You needed to know what it was. Maybe he was just a really good preacher, and you were being facetious–or maybe you just walked into the next Jim Jones story. Either way, your eyes were glued to the hallway counting the seconds to the procession. 

As everyone around you opened their book of hymns you were fixated on the white robe that exited the side door.  You didn’t recognize either of the altar boys and for a brief moment, you wondered where the last two poor bastards ran off to. But then your eyes fell on his. His stark black hair wasn’t as neat as it was earlier today when you were walking through town. A few pieces in the front dangled over his right eyebrow and his head was bowed slightly as he walked through the pews. 

Your mind was pulled away from fully taking in the man as you were distracted by how full the church sounded. When you were younger the hymns always sounded so hollow and weak, but tonight it resembled a traditional mass. Savoring the moment of repose you felt, you found it within you to appreciate the music resonating through the building finding it somewhat odd that they were singing a hymn that sounded so haunting. 

At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye~

Your attention drifted back to the priest where he kneeled at the steps and then bowed his head at the altar. When his head raised to stare out across the pews you felt your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Your mom nudged your side, smirking when you turned to look at her. 

“Told you.”

You shoved your tongue in your cheek, swiping it across your teeth as you sat back down. Mass went by in a blink considering you were completely engrossed in the man in front of you rather than his preaching. At some point, you completely tuned out his biblical orations and resorted to the simple pleasures of imagining him and yourself in various scenarios in the church. 

In the pews, across the altar, across the altar with the front door open waiting for Beverly to waltz through, in the confessio-

“Honey, come. I want you to meet Father Paul.”

Your mom tapped you on your shoulder pushing you out of your trance of thoughts. Standing up, you smoothed out your top and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake out the tension in your shoulders you most certainly built up during your daydreaming. Walking out of the church you wondered why you were leaving if she wanted you to meet the man. You turned around and noticed that he was no longer at the altar either. Stepping out to the front, your questions were soon answered as a smooth voice sounded from behind you. 

“I see we have a new face in town.” 

Your mother butt in before you had a chance to speak for yourself. Laying her hand across the small of your back introducing you to the man you just spent the better half of an hour fantasizing about. 

“For a little bit, we do, yes! This is my daughter, y/n. She usually comes around for the holidays but we got lucky this time around. This used to be her home until about two years ago.”

You stuck your hand out, Father Paul grabbing yours with a firm grip and you couldn’t help the compulsion to stare at his hand for a moment before quickly finding your mind and smiling at him.

“Nice of you to step in for the Monsignor. My mom told me you’re his stand-in for the time being.” 

“Yes. I apologize seeing as I’m not who you expected, but I assure you he’s on the road to recovery.” 

As Father Paul spoke, you couldn’t quite place why he looked and felt so familiar. You were running through files of how you could’ve possibly known him but nothing was coming out concrete. 

“Oh! No need to apologize. I quite enjoyed your sermon, it was very similar to what I was used to growing up here. It’s as if he never left.” 

You chuckled out your last sentence and suddenly nerves found themselves coursing through your body as you maintained eye contact. You were committing his face to memory. Whether it be for personal reasons in the dead of night or to try and figure out where you knew him from. You’d wrestle with that later. Right now, you were just hoping that you weren’t being painfully obvious. 

You were. 

You were bordering a fine line of staring and eye-fucking him that your mother and sister were finding absolute humor in. Your eyes flickered back and forth between his clerical collar and his face trying to shake the thoughts that were circling their way around your head. 

“Well, I’m glad that I feel so familiar to you. I hope to see more of you during your time here with us.” 

He smiled at you with such sincerity you forgot about all the lust brewing for a second. His face held so many emotions but you couldn’t place any of them. 

“You will.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes holding something a little more heavy though. You were aware of the priesthood’s celibacy and something about knowing you couldn’t have him made the feeling that more intense. Although, you didn’t miss how it seemed the feeling was reciprocated while you looked at him. Father Paul spoke, breaking the silence that you two created. 

“Well, it was very nice to meet the rest of your family, Mrs. L/N, but I am afraid that I have some matters to tend to back in my rectory. You all have a very nice night.” 

His gaze lingered as he spoke, giving you the same treatment as you did moments before and it was making you squirm on the inside. His gaze was soft but so intense and the contrariety of it left your mind racing. While you and your family said a choir of goodbyes, you watched Father Paul walk away as your family made the way back to the house. Your sister spoke up, whipping you from your thoughts. 

“At this point, you should just tell him you want to fuck him.” 

Both of your parents exclaimed your sister’s name in shock but the two of you were left laughing. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.” 

“Y/n, you might as well have been sucking his fingers in front of us.” 

As you guys walked back into the house your mom snickered as you genuinely asked for her opinion. 

“Was I being that obvious about it?”

She paused. 

“You could be…less obvious about it.” 

You groaned in embarrassment rushing straight to your room to avoid any teasing for the night. 

“Goodnight!” 

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You opened your phone to check the time knowing full well that it was the middle of the night. You just wanted to see how late it was. 

3:33. 

Shit. 

You let out an exasperated sigh wiping your hand across your face. It was usually at this point in the night that your hand found its way in between your pajama pants and gently glided itself across your sensitive floret. Your hips jolted forward at the contact and as soon as that sensation spread through your body, images of Father Paul flickered in your mind. As your finger circled over your clit you found yourself reaching your climax faster than usual. As your orgasm flooded through your limbs, your chest heaved for air trying to calm the euphoria running through your veins. 

Pulling your hand from under the sheets, you let your arm drape across your eyes grappling with what you just did. But before you could really identify the problem with your actions, sleep weighed heavily on your eyelids. 

When you woke up, your middle of the night scandal was the first thing on your mind. 

How am I gonna look at him again? 

A string of questions ran through your mind leaving you mentally scattered but as you got ready for the day and saw your sister in the main room, it left the front of your mind. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning. You gonna go to church today?”

You shot your sister a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and a playful knowing. You two erupted into a fit of giggles that ended with you looking at her out of the corner of your eye. 

“Maybe.”

She watched you, impressed by your honesty, and nodded her head. Taking a sip of her drink she spoke through her swallow making her voice a little gummy. 

“Your best chances of seeing him are in the evening. For some reason, he’s stopped coming out in the day. Probably to avoid Bev. That woman would sew herself to his hip if she could.”

“Bev was up the Monsignor’s ass too, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve never seen someone try to get so close to fucking God.” 

You both were laughing until you saw your mother emerge from the hallway and you halted the sound in your throats. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just givin’ Bev shit for being Bev.”

Your mom laughed through her nose and shook her head at your antics and you were preparing for a small lecture. 

“So I take it you’ll be heading to the church tonight y/n? Typically we only go on Sundays now but I’m sure Father Paul would be ecstatic to see one of us a little more often.” 

Your family took great pride in taking the piss out of you and to be completely fair you made it quite easy. You rolled your eyes at your mother because even she knew you had lost touch with your faith, but now you had reason to find it–maybe. 

“I wasn’t planning on it but since Briar and now you have both greeted me with the question maybe I will. Build some rapport with the man.” 

“We both know you’d wanna build something more than rapport with him.” Briar chimed in. 

“I literally can’t even! You know…with him. It’s against their whole code. Don’t think I forgot. But also they like should come up with a code to not have hot priests, I’m just sayin.” 

They both just hummed in agreement still silently giving you shit. 

“You guys are terrible.” You laughed. 

~*~

You had all day to conjure up a scheme of how you’d find a way to get close to Father Paul and you finally decided on a plan while you were getting ready. 

Confession. 

Technically you didn’t need a priest for confession but it’d be nice to have someone listen while you were in the box. Everyone separated into their rooms for the day and you hoped that was still the case when you stepped out of the house. 

“Skirt’s a little long isn’t it.” 

You didn’t expect Briar to be sitting in the main room so her voice spooked you before you registered her words. 

“Yeah, but I think the side slits balance out the potential prude.” 

You shoved your leg out to the side showing off how the slit in the maxi skirt stopped at the middle of your thigh. Paired with a fairly tight black long sleeve and chunky boots, you were bordering on looking like a mortician. In your mind, being clad in all black hid not only you, but your true intentions from being so visible. The last thing you needed was being sniffed out through a choice of clothing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hopeful for an interaction. 

“I’ll be back.”

“Be safe.” Briar snickered

Stepping out into the cool night air, you were thankful to feel something other than the emotional heat from your family. It immediately soothed your nerves and you found yourself focusing more on your plan. With the church doors open, you noticed you saw nobody walking in and when you walked up the steps you were surprised to see the pews empty. It felt like you were intruding, like a fly buzzing around a dinner table. Your footsteps echoed in the empty building and you felt an overwhelming feeling to run out and forget about this elaborate plan. To sacrifice your need for affection and carnal satisfaction for a walk across the shoreline or to the general store. Just something else. 

Your eyes panned over to the confession box and you were wrestling with your gut feeling to stay. Maybe you should confess and get it off your chest…just not with him there. With disquieted uncertainty overcoming you, you took a step back to exit the church deciding that you’d come back another day, but when you expected your body to glide through the air, you stumbled into something solid instead. Whipping your body around you apologized profusely. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was spaced out and didn’t hear anybody behind me I’m so-” 

And then you paused. As your eyes traveled up to meet the person you stumbled into your eyes caught the clerical collar. It was like a bullet lodged itself into your chest and you felt your limbs begin to grow cold from shock. You knew who lied above that collar and you had to find the guts to look at him in the eye. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you alright? You seem pretty startled.” 

Father Paul placed his hand on your shoulder looking down at you with genuine concern. You made the mistake of looking at him directly in the eye and you wished you didn’t. His deep brown eyes furrowed under his brow waiting for your response but you were entranced by him. Stuttering when you found your voice. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just was in my head about something.” 

Father Paul cocked his head slightly trying to figure out where to step with you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and flickered back and forth between you and the confessional box. 

“I noticed you were quite focused on the confessional, were you looking to confess this evening, y/n?” 

You panicked. Backed in a corner, your mouth moved faster than your brain. It was too late before you could register the words flying out of your mouth. 

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been quite separated from my faith as of late but I’ve been struggling with…some intense internal issues that can’t be ignored now. I’m not sure if confession would make it better or worse and that’s why I was so engrossed in it.” 

“Well. We’re here now. If you’re comfortable, I can lead you through it.” 

You were hesitant. You worried that in your current state, you’d divulge too much, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed to do. To just get it all out of your system and bear the humiliation. You looked at him one last time and it was as if he was waiting for your compliance. He may as well have been extending his hand out to lead you to it. Closing your eyes and accepting this as a fated moment you inhaled a deep breath and nodded. 

“Okay.” 

Walking to the confessional, you got down on your knees, folded your hands in front of your mouth, and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked through the latticed opening and made out a few of Father Paul’s features. A feeling began to pool in your stomach as you realized the dynamic of the situation you were in. Your mind swiftly moved into the gutter wishing you were on your knees for a different reason. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–and will continue to do so.” 

You paused deciding one last time if you were going to bear all your bones here. Swallowing your pride, like a gun sounding the start of a race, you relieved yourself with zero guilt. 

“Being separated from my faith has left me in a deeply sacrilegious state. For the most part, I can ignore my thoughts, my taboo interests but since I stepped foot back on this island it's all come bubbling back up.”

You looked to see if Father Paul was looking at you but he stared straight ahead giving you his complete focus to your confession. 

“I find, grave desire in things I shouldn’t. Sexual hunger that I can’t displace somewhere else because I know the only reason it brews within me is because I know it’s wrong. Father, these feelings came back to the surface when I laid my eyes on you during Mass. I couldn’t help it. The feeling that pooled in the depths of my stomach and left me aching for something more. Forgive me, Father, for my boldness, but I fear that the only way I can feel relief is to…release.” 

You felt your breath quicken at how honest you were being but it was soon replaced by the feeling of of excitement. 

“I know it’s wrong but I…I can’t stop the feeling. This is all I can say, I’m sorry for my sins.” 

Silence. 

You felt like you sat in silence for an eternity waiting to hear his voice echo to your side, but you didn’t. Instead, you heard the pace of his breathing. You almost confused it for your own but you held your breath trying to calm your nerves and still it echoed. 

“Father…I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any-” 

“Y/n. Come to the other side. 

As you rose to your feet, you heard the door on his side of the confessional click open. When you stood in front of the door, it was the first time this evening you found the courage to look him directly in the eye. There was a dastardly hunger swimming in his brown eyes. Like a predator stalking his prey, his aura was intense and left you frozen in front of him awaiting his command. His eyebrow slightly cocked upward and his hand raised, coaxing you towards him. You followed, pausing before you stepped inside his side of the box but he coaxed you forward with his voice so smooth and alluring. With little room, you were left to slot yourself in between his legs. 

Your breath hitched as you looked at him again and he patted his thigh with his hand that was wrapped in a rosary. Clenching around nothing, you made the swift decision to close his legs and straddle them instead of taking his knee. Letting your hands rest on his shoulders you stared him down. Nothing but salacity was radiating between your bodies and quickly you began to feel your desire rise into your face. Searching his eyes for any indication of his feelings you opened your mouth to speak but he occupied the silence before you. 

“I wondered if, you would find the courage to be truthful and I must say I’m struck by your honesty.”

Your heart nearly stopped. 

You fucked this up, bad.

“Father, I-”

“No need for any apologies. I’m glad you were so honest.” 

“You…you are?”

“Lying is a sin, so yes. But it relieves me of my own prurient conscience so that I may indulge in you free of guilt.” 

You weren’t paying attention to the movement of his body due to being so focused on his words, but when his words were punctuated with the rolling of his rosary-clad finger across your cloth-covered center, you were made very aware. Your cunt clenched around nothing and your body lurched forward unintentionally writhing over his hand. Your breath came out in shutters and your eyes, now hooded with lust, gazed into his own in a frenzy. 

His fingers kept gently teasing your bud through your panties and you couldn’t help the compulsion to ride in tandem with his movements. The beads of the rosary gifted you an unknown kind of pleasure that you knew would afflict your mind for the rest of time. It was a feeling that was near indescribable but the pleasure was too good to deny. You rested your head on his forehead, gripping onto his shoulders for some type of leverage. You bit the corner of your lip in an effort to silence yourself, but your ragged breathing was near that of an incensed bull. 

“If you did a better job of controlling yourself yesterday, I may have been fooled by your sheepish nature, but you just couldn’t quell this desire on your own, could you? You went home to seek some satisfaction but you found none, so you came here to plague me instead. Praying that I’d fix this ache within you. Am I right y/n?”

You went to respond but Father Paul’s finger slipped past the barrier of your underwear, leaving you to feel your arousal be spread across your puffy petals. A moan escaped your throat and the way it echoed off the confessional walls into the church made you shrink into his body. A pathetic attempt to hide from your lechery. Father Paul hummed, urging you to speak as he sank two fingers into your honeyed garden. Catching your breath, you found your words. 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father~”

You brought your head up to look at him again, too dazed to even feel like this was real. As his fingers continued to roll themselves against your sweet spot, your breath quickened as your mouth stayed ajar looking for the courage somewhere in yourself to slot your lips against his. As he rolled his finger over your swollen bud, your body decided for you. Your lips danced in a sweat and lust-filled hysteria leaving your brain foggy with desire. You rolled your hips into his hand needing more of him and your sounds slowly increased in volume as you felt a bead of the rosary slide across your center. The feeling of the beads slightly grazing your sensitive lips brought you faster to the precipice of elation than you expected and you pathetically whined for your release. 

“I’m, I’m close, Father.” 

You expected him to speed up his ministrations, but instead, he removed his slick-ridden fingers from your garden and brought them up to his lips. As if his hand was dripping in myrrh, he sucked you off of his fingers and paused before he spoke. Ghosting his fingers across his lips, his tongue hesitantly licked the tips of them as he dragged his hand away from his face.

“If you’re going to be brought to rapture by my hand it will be done when all of me is inside of you.” 

Father Paul motioned you to stand up and you staggered out of the confessional with him not far behind. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the center of the church pews up to the altar. Ripping the white cloth off the altar, Father Paul held his hand out before sitting you down on the altar. He caressed his hands down the curves of your body before toying with the waistband of your skirt. Looking down at you, you saw the fervor swimming in his irises. 

“My sweet lamb, is this alright?”

You nodded and he slotted himself in between your legs feeling his bulge at your center. Depraved and corpulent lust washed over your body and your fingers fumbled with his belt, unfastening it with haste. You looked up at him and his face was closer than you expected, the heat radiating off of your bodies leaving a mist of humidity between you. You palmed him through his jeans and an inviscerated moan crawled out of his throat. The sound urged your body to move faster, the need to have him inside of you becoming near unbearable. 

He kissed you again, insatiable ardor all that you could taste. The feeling trickled down your body leaving goosebumps across your soft skin and a river seeping through the fabric of your panties that slowly painted the apex of your thighs. He tapped your thighs and you took it as a sign to lift your hips. In a swift motion, your skirt and underwear were left in a pool by the altar. Father Paul removed himself from his sweater, throwing it in the pile of sacrilegious cloths that served as a visual reminder of the desacralization that was about to take place. He left his button-up to cling to his chest and he moved his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, leaving him with his fervid cock on full display. 

You kicked your boots off your feet, the thud echoing a little bit louder than you intended. With your feet now free from their confines, you wrapped your legs around Father Paul’s legs, bringing him as close as possible. Your hand slithered between your bodies and varnished the tip of his cock in your amatory nectar. Your moans harmonized in synchrony and you gazed into his lust-blown eyes seeing nothing but black and you were sure yours were the same. He asked silently one last time for consent and you nodded slightly before he entered you. 

The stretch of his cock was something you felt only one could dream about. It filled you perfectly and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Your head dipped back in zeal, relishing in the feeling that was rushing in waves over your form. When your head tipped back up, your eyes met the enlarged crucifix that hung in the center of the back wall. For a reason unknown to you, locking eyes with Jesus as you desecrated His holy house made a pang of carnal hedonism tangle in your sexual daze. 

Your hands webbed themselves in Father Paul’s hair gripping at his strands and pulling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, feeling his breath heat up your skin. You felt his mouth open and drag itself across the side of your neck. A slight chill graced the parts where his spit marked his territory. You felt his breathing get heavier and all of a sudden you felt his cock slip out of you and he picked you up from the altar, turning you around and kicking your feet into a perfect V shape. He bent your body over the altar and slowly pushed himself back into you, the new angle making you cry out in complete perverted passion. 

His thrusts were deep and pointed making sure that you felt every inch of him drag in and out of your seraphic labyrinth. Just when you felt that the feeling couldn't get any more intense, his hand entangled itself into your hair and pulled your body up, flesh against his chest. His thrusts became rougher and you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. 

“Feel good, my dove?” 

You were fucking yourself back onto him, any coherent thought on the brink of leaving you amidst your ardent pleasure. 

“S-so…so good, Father. Shit.”

You were running out of air, your body paying more attention to the dam that was about to burst within you. 

“Better than your hand?”

“Uh-huh”

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and were hooded as you looked back at him. He gingerly guided your body back down to the altar and removed his hand from your hair, slowly tracing his hand down your back. Both of his hands grabbed your hips and the feeling had you crying out as his tip kissed your cervix. You felt his body lean over yours as he moved your hair away from your neck. His breath was sticking to your neck before a whisper ghosted over your ear.

“I’m sorry, but trust me right now.” 

He licked from the base of your neck and then you felt him pierce your skin with his teeth. In your licentious stupor, you just moaned out at the contact not fully registering that his teeth were sinking into your flesh or the fact that footsteps were echoing through the church. 

“Father, you weren’t in your rectory so I assumed this would be second best to find you-oh…” 

Bev.

Her grating voice almost brought you out of your daze, but Father Paul resorted to slow, deep thrusts as he kept he kept sucking your neck. When he lifted his face from your neck you felt a warm liquid trickle down your skin and pool towards your collarbone before landing on the altar. You lifted your head, your body weak and wracked with pleasure. You could barely make eye contact with her as your eyes were so hooded but you heard her voice resonate through the building once more. 

“Haresis Dea.”

Your head dropped unable to focus on her and your body rolled back into Father Paul’s, needing more of him as your orgasm was slowly fading back into your body. As you moved against him, his hips slowly began to thrust back into your sloppy cunt as Bev waited for some semblance of an explanation. 

“God has chosen her. He has chosen to consecrate this union, this nocturnal metamorphosis with lascivious intent because she is the last piece. God has willed it this way and has chosen her.” 

Father Paul bent down to lap at your neck again and his hips regained their momentum. You pushed yourself up from the altar and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck lapping at the blood that was dribbling down his chin.

“Very well.” 

And you heard Bev’s footsteps walk out of the church, the main doors closing behind her. Father Paul picked you up again, turning your body back around to face him. There was a certain ferality that wasn’t in his features before that had you clenching around his cock. With the doors shut, you both let your moans reign loose, a salacious cacophony filling the air. Your eyes scaled up the wall again and you came face to face with Jesus as a pool of heated arousal settled in your lower stomach begging to be set free. Your head knocked back in avidity and you didn’t see him slice a small cut in his wrist. 

When his thumb found your enflamed bud, you brought your head forward and he placed his bleeding wrist against your lips. As a wave of sexual delirium washed over you, your mouth hung open and he urged you to suck on his wrist. The metallic taste flooded over your tongue as your orgasm heightened your senses. Father Paul kept fucking you through your high until he reached his own, his cock painting your labyrinth a warm alabaster. He pulled his wrist away from you as you both were trying to calm down your breathing. 

Both of your mouths now covered in a drying garnet hue, you found yourself pressing your lips against his once again, unable to satisfy this ache completely. He chuckled as you both pulled away. 

“Easy, my dove.” 

You nodded, placing your hands flat against his chest. 

“Let’s get you dressed and then walk to the rectory, hmm?” 

Licking your bottom lip and locking it behind your teeth, you nodded as you slowly made the return back to your body.  

© yeonjuns-beanie

[tcoaal]

What's your take on the thought Andrew and Ashley were born sociopaths and doomed from the beginning?

is this a take people actually have??? anyways: ableist as fuck lmao

i am of the very strong opinion Ashley is absolutely neurodivergent with both autism and ASPD. admittingly the former is something i have a tendency to do and i won't necessarily die on the hill: something that really fascinated me in scenes in Chapter 3A is how Ashley just sincerely does not seem to understand social norms that should be obvious to anyone else. various scenes in her childhood, and especially with the campers while obviously not in the same level kinda resonated with experiences with not understanding social norms me and my brother struggled with growing up.

but also i admittingly hc and project this a lot on socially awkward characters so take that part with a grain of salt and it's not really a hill i'm willing to go die on or debate especially when i think ASPD and BPD are bigger issues with her. i highly doubt any of these terms will actually come up in the game and it will remain a headcanon, but the idea that anyone can be "born" evil and a sociopath or whatever is nonsense lmao. this is a fictional game so if we learn time travel black magic whatever influenced Andrew's and Ashley's births somehow (like the twins in Clock Tower) i really reject that.

the Graves siblings are fucked up and dysfunctional because they were born into an abusive household with absolutely nobody to rely on except eachother: something both parents encouraged and forced on them. while i do think both being neurodivergent had a part in it, it's pretty clear in the game, in the promotional images even that the root of their issues is a fucked up co-dependency forever sealed in stone by a super fucked up incident (and it was an accident, they did not intend to kill Nina, this is important and a lot of people overlook this wasn't an intentional murder carried out by psychopaths) and the oath taken between two children and the refusal of the parents to care or do anything about it.

if the Graves were a genuinely loving, happy family: Ashley's and Andrew's mental health situations would be better off. even if they are neurodivergent and mentally ill they would have access to proper support, medication, therapy, and perhaps most importantly the comfort of a parent's love more instead of a fucked up relationship between a brothermotherhusband and a sisterwife. i think Ashley would be struggling a lot worse, but they'd be better.

i think the fact that in 3A we see Leyley literally react in flashbacks actively disturbed that she could just so casually admit to something so terrible. Leyley was actively disturbed and distressed about the fact she could so casually admit to killing someone and not care about it. she tries to confide in Andy but he falls asleep and that to me, more than anything, is the moment that sets everything about the woman she would become into stone. i genuinely think if Renee or even Andy (even though that was not his responsibility) made a genuine attempt to reach out in that moment and improve things (although if it was only the other Actual Child trying to help it probably wouldn't have been enough)

everything in TCOAAL is pretty explicit the root of the sibling's problems is based in a toxic codependence, not that they were evil from birth or some shit like that. i can handwave it if magic or prophecy is involved but if not i fucking hate this take in all media so much it's unreal

EDIT: i'd like to get more of my points clarified, actually

Nemlei's own view of the game is very clear she approaches this from a place of the effect of abuse of the environment has on a child. things like Ashley being autistic and aspd are headcanons of mine: but Nemlei herself would disagree with me saying that's how i should view it and that be the end-all. she is explicit this is a case of cause and effect of in-universe events, not any result of being born a certain way. this is a critical component of Nemlei's writing, given the lore of how the color of one's soul works and how one views themself. this is one of the most critical core components of the lore.

Ashley and Andrew weren't born fucked up. they were fucked up because of the environment that nurtured them. i will die on this hill, and it is the hill that Nemlei seems to view for her fiction. this is like, one of the more important takes to the themes of the story. i'm usually someone that views word of god as secondary to what is presented in the text, but this is a really important piece of information in this story.

Nemlei's narrative isn't about the idea the two were born evil or anything, it's that the awful people they became was shaped by the environment around them. i think that's important.

[megalony]

Who Do You Think I Am

This is my newest Eddie x Reader x Buck imagine, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread@musicistheway@avada-kedavra-bitch-187@luula@missdreamofendless@bradleybeachbabe@woderfulkawaii@amberpanda99@daggersquadphantom@marvel-and-chicago-fan@angryknightstatesmantrash@minjix@lyjen@kmc1989@itsmytimetoodream@noonenuts@hiireadstuff@ashie-babie@classyunknownlover@jayyeahthatsme@sp1ritssz@dumb-fawkin-bitch@oliverstarksbae@gimatida@heart-35@supernaturalstilinski@stefansalvatoresgf@kyky9103@wutheringhearts2275@gay4hotmilfs@itshamleth@chaoticnosleepinfluencer@gs29@wh0reforsmutstuff@mel-vaz@natashamea18@chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena@targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19@marvelmenarebeautiful@gillybear17 @zoeybennett

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: When one of their kids isn't well, Buck goes to collect her from nursery and the 118 come to make sure she's okay. And there are more than a few choice words for the nursery staff about how they've acted.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you going now?"

Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/n) scanned her eyes up and down Eddie's frame while her teeth sank down on her lower lip. He was wearing his work uniform, he didn't usually get dressed at home. He got changed into his gear once he got to the station, he must either be in a hurry or he'd brought his uniform home to wash it the other day.

Her arm tightened around the toddler sat on her hip who was cuddled up into her chest like some sort of baby monkey.

"Yeah or I'll be late. You still want me to pick you up tonight?" Eddie finished pouring the coffee in his travel mug and screwed it on tight before he looked over at (Y/n).

"Yeah- baby can you take a look at her before you leave, please?" Her arm bounced Ellie on her hip and her eyes travelled from the toddler back to Eddie.

She watched the way he glanced at the kitchen clock before he sucked in a deep breath and nodded. It would have to be quick, he was running out of time and he really didn't want to be late for the change from A to B shift.

He set his mug down near his keys and walked round the kitchen island, reaching his hands out for their youngest. Ellie was curled into (Y/n), her chest tucked into her mother's chest with her arms bound tight around the teddy in her arms. Her eyes were barely open from how tired she looked and she didn't even smile when Eddie stood in front of her.

He gently lifted her from (Y/n)'s arms, causing the two year old to grumble as Eddie sat her down on the counter and crouched down to be level with her.

"What's wrong?" He directed his question at (Y/n) while he pressed his hand against Ellie's temple, noticing she was a little warm but nothing to indicate a temperature or a fever.

"She's coughing a lot and she, I don't know, she doesn't seem herself." (Y/n) didn't want to worry.

They had done enough worrying over Ellie from the moment she was born three months premature. The first two and a half months of her life she had spent in the neonatal unit at the hospital and ever since they got her home, Ellie had been a happy but sick baby. She picked up any illness or infection going round. She held onto infections longer than usual and they wore her down.

She had been on a variety of antibiotics and she was only two years old.

(Y/n) didn't want to worry but she couldn't help it and she didn't want to send Ellie to nursery if she was coming down with something. If Ellie picked up a bad infection, they had to keep her home and get the doctor's advice on medicines. When one of the kids in Chris's class got the measles, they had to bring Chris home and isolate all the kids at home so none of them got it and passed it onto Ellie.

"Baby girl, let me look." Eddie pressed his finger to Ellie's lips until she opened her mouth. He then felt her throat and listened to her breathing.

(Y/n) could see the debate in his eyes. He didn't know whether sending her to nursery was such a good idea or not.

"Send her. If she was really bad she'd of been crying by now, and it's Buck's day off. If she feels worse he can bring her home."

"Okay."

Today wasn't such a bad day for childcare. Considering they had four kids in the house, the three of them did well to work around childcare. And it was Evan's day off today. If Ellie was coughing up a storm or had a fever, they wouldn't have to cancel shifts, Evan was here to care for her.

But they may as well send her since she wasn't complaining and if Ellie was very ill, she would of been crying and begging to stay home. It was worth getting her into the routine of nursery since she had only just started going two months ago and she was there three days a week.

If she felt worse, Evan could go get her, no problems.

"Alright, I love you both and I'll see you tonight." Eddie pressed a sloppy kiss to Ellie's cheek and lifted her up, gently settling her back down in (Y/n)'s arms.

He pressed his hand to (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head up to meet his so he could steal a kiss from her lips. He bit down on her lip before he pulled back and he murmured a soft "Thank you," when (Y/n) handed him a slice of toast. She knew he hadn't eaten yet and wasn't likely to if he was going to walk right into a busy shift.

He headed out the kitchen, grabbing his flask on the way, and made a beeline for the hall that looked as packed and cramped as a school hallway.

His eyes trailed over his troop, smiling down at them as they were all getting ready. Chris was sat near the front door, tying up his shoes with his bag perched next to him. Lola was leaning back against the wall with one foot up on Evan's thigh so he could tie her shoelace for her since she couldn't do it herself yet.

And Maria was stood to one side with her backpack on and her hair in two pigtails so she could twist her head from side to side and have her hair bash against her cheeks. It was her way of stimming.

"Who's driving us?" Maria looked between both dads with a smile. She could tell that since Eddie was wearing his uniform, he was going to work whereas Evan was dressed casual. He was wearing jeans and a short sleeved shirt, and when she looked and saw her mum walking through, she could tell her mum was also going to work.

"I'm driving, and we're dropping mummy off at work today too." Evan patted Lola's leg as a sign that he was finished so she could stand on both feet again.

He had been at work until eleven o'clock last night but his silver lining was he had the next two days off. So he had the house to himself until he went to get Ellie from nursery, then he would pick up the rest of the kids and have the evening with them until Eddie and (Y/n) came home.

"Alright troop, I gotta go." Eddie grabbed his keys before he turned to the closest child, who happened to be Maria. He kissed her cheek, then moved to Lola, then finally Chris, giving them each a kiss and whispering a quiet 'love you' to them all.

He finally turned to face Evan who had his own keys swirling around on his thumb and his hand in his back pocket somewhat casually. He brushed his thumb across the side of Evan's neck and reeled him in for a kiss before he weaved around Chris to get to the door.

"Everyone be good for pops."

Eddie left the door open behind him for the rest of them to head out and get in 'the bus' as the kids always referred to it. Since they had a family of seven, they had what was effectively a mini-bus, something (Y/n) hated to drive but what was child's play for Evan and Eddie. Considering they could manage driving the trucks at work.

Both Chris and Lola followed after Evan and when he opened the back door, they climbed up and went right to the far back. There were two rows of three-seats in the back, and then two up in the front. Plus two seats in the boot that could fold up or pull out so they could effectively fit ten people in the car.

They strapped themselves in while Evan picked Maria up and clipped her in, and (Y/n) moved round to the other car seat to get Ellie strapped in. (Y/n) pursed her lips and sighed when Ellie didn't say anything.

The toddler wasn't always loud, but she usually babbled quite a lot and today she had barely spoken a word. She just closed her eyes and coughed quietly into her teddy.

"All good?" Evan looked over at (Y/n) when the pair of them climbed in the front.

"I don't think Ellie's very well… can you be on standby, if she seems unwell at nursery?"

Evan took a glance in the rear-view mirror as he began to drive. Ellie didn't look unwell, but she didn't look herself either. He turned the radio up to see if the music might liven her up. All the kids loved to sing, whether it was early in the morning or late into the night. The only time they didn't sing was when they were sick.

"Yeah, course I will."

(Y/n) nodded and managed a smile when Evan reached across and curved his hand around her thigh. When she was at work, she couldn't always answer her phone and both the school and nursery always seemed to ring (Y/n) first before they rang the boys. They even rang her regarding Chris because he thought of her as his mum and Eddie had added her and Evan to Chris's school record.

But she knew Evan would tell the nursery to ring him today, he was the only one with a day off who would be able to answer his phone straight away.

When he pulled up on the curb, (Y/n) leaned across and stole a few kisses from his lips before she looked in the back. "Alright, have a good day, I love you all." She blew a few kisses towards them before she hopped out, her work was first on the journey. Then the school, then the nursery on the way back because the older kids had to be at school before Ellie technically needed to turn up to nursery.

It didn't take long for Evan to arrive at the school and he got as close as he could to the gates.

He opened the back door and unclipped Maria first since she was the closest to him. He picked her up and set her down on her feet, helping her hook her arms through her bag straps while Lola hopped out, followed by Chris who bashed his crutches into the back of Evan's leg as he got out.

"It'll be me picking you all up today. Have fun and be good please."

"Bye papa."

"Bye baby, love you." Evan kissed the top of Lola's head and did the same to Chris, following them a few feet up the path until they were at the gates. But he looked down to his left when Maria pulled on his hand and started to sway back and forth on her heels.

"You love me too, papa?"

"You know I love you, sweetheart. Go on, good girl." He kissed her cheek and gave her a little nudge, waving and watching until they all got safely to the doors before he headed back to the car.

He opened the other back door and poked his head round to check on Ellie. He had been busy getting the girls up and sorted this morning while (Y/n) saw to Ellie, so he didn't know if she had been complaining she felt ill or if (Y/n) just noticed something was off.

"How's my baby, hm?" He leaned in the back and kissed her forehead which was a little warm. And his heart swelled when he got a smile out of her.

It was habit that all three of them referred to Ellie as the baby, even though she was now two years old. She was their youngest, and since she had been born premature, they were used to friends and family constantly asking 'how's the baby?' As everyone had been worried she wouldn't make it. And with all the infections and rough illnesses she picked up, she worried them even more.

"We go bed, papa?" She snuggled her face down into her teddy and smiled brightly when Evan started peppering her face with kisses.

"Hm, maybe later. You're going to nursery this morning, but I'll pick you up and you can spend the afternoon with me, how's that sound?"

He could see it in her eyes that she didn't want to go, but she didn't have the energy or the will to argue either. Ellie had grown up thus far being ill and constantly being cared and doted on by one of her three parents. Going to nursery was a change she wasn't too keen on. She didn't like being parted from any parent, but they were slowly getting her used to it.

It was hard on all three of them too because they were constantly worrying about Ellie and wondering if she was alright.

With a lasting kiss to her cheek, Evan closed the door and got back in the driver's seat. He turned the radio up a little more, but he felt his heart quicken when Ellie didn't sing or babble or even laugh. She only coughed and gave the occasional, cute sneeze.

Evan had a feeling she wouldn't last the whole day, something in his gut just told thim that he would be picking her up early.

Nursery didn't last as long as the school hours. The plan was usually for Evan to pick Ellie up first, take her for a drive or a walk somewhere, just the two of them. Then he would go get the other kids when they finished at half three.

But Evan didn't like being home alone, especially with both (Y/n) and Eddie at work today. So he would be relieved to pick Ellie up early, maybe after lunch so she at least had the morning at nursery. Then he could have the afternoon with his baby and then the rest of his kids.

He was going to end up seeing Maddie this morning anyway since she wasn't at work and Evan didn't like being alone.

"Come on then, baby. Off we go."

Evan gently unclipped her and swung her navy blue Fireman Sam bag on his shoulder as he let her curl up into his chest. She was tired and he was more than happy to cuddle her than have her walk inside.

He winced when she coughed into his neck, but she wasn't snuffly or finding it hard to breathe which was a relief. Her arms cocooned around his neck and she breathed softly against his neck as he walked into reception.

"Is it Ellie?" One of the women was halfway between the reception area and the play room with the other kids.

"It is," Evan gently eased her down to her feet and took her hand so he could walk over and put her bag on one of the hooks. The one thing he liked about this nursery was the fact that they didn't have too many kids here at a time. It wasn't too many kids to overwhelm or make Ellie nervous and that also meant there was less chance of her getting ill.

He let Ellie take the lead and drag him into the room before he crouched down in front of her and pulled her close.

"Be a good girl, I'll be back soon, okay?" He took a deep breath when Ellie flopped into his chest. She tucked her face into his shoulder and clung to his neck, leaning all her weight onto him so her legs bent and went floppy. "Go on, baby." He encouraged, kissing her temple before he tried to unhook her arms so she would go play.

She didn't seem too sure or very keen when one of the assistants came over and took her hand, but Ellie let herself be guided away from Evan.

Once she was out of sight and earshot, Evan moved his hands to his thighs and pushed up to his feet again. His sights set on the woman who led them inside and he plastered on a smile as he walked over to her, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked.

"Hi, uh, Ellie's not feeling well. Her mum and her other dad are at work, so if she needs to come home, you'll just have to ring me today and I'll come back and get her." He knew if Ellie heard him say any of that, she would start crying and ask Evan to take her home if she knew he was willing to come back for her at any point.

And he didn't want them trying to ring (Y/n) or Eddie and panicking when they couldn't get hold of either of them. There was no point calling them when Evan was off and was the easiest to access his phone. And he was already panicking that Ellie was going to get upset and want to come home.

The only reason Evan had brought her in was because he knew he couldn't keep her home whenever he suspected she wasn't one hundred percent. They could play things safe with Ellie more than the other kids, but they couldn't always keep her home and try to smother her to protect her. They had done enough worrying about her already to last them a decade.

"Okay, I'm sure she'll be fine but I'll make a note."

"Thank you."

***

A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips and he hung his head down when his spine clicked into place. He felt like someone had run him over with the truck. He was glad Evan wasn't on shift with him right now to see the discomfort he felt or Evan would fuss like a mother hen.

He shrugged off his shirt and grabbed a fresh one from his locker and the towel which he slung over his shoulder. A hot shower would do him some good and make him feel a bit more lively so he could get through the rest of his shift in one piece.

His head snapped up and crashed into the locker door, causing him to yelp when his phone rang.

That was lucky. He usually turned his phone on silent and kept it in his locker, he must have forgotten this morning.

With one hand cupping his temple which was now throbbing, his other hand rummaged around in his bag to find his phone before it stopped ringing. His eyes narrowed into a frown that set deep into his features when he looked over the caller ID.

Why was Ellie's nursery ringing him? Why did he already have a missed call off them from two minutes ago? They shouldn't be ringing Eddie when he was at work and Evan was the parent who was dropping off and picking Ellie up today. Why weren't they calling him?

"Hello?"

"Mr Diaz?"

"Yes… is Ellie okay?" He could feel his guts twisting themselves into knots while he sat down on the bench in front of the lockers. He arched his chest forwards to curve his spine and try to straighten out the tension he felt while he waited to know what was going on.

"Ellie was coughing this morning, but now she's started wheezing and she says her chest hurts. She isn't breathing very well, we think it'd be best if you could come and pick her up."

She wasn't having chest pains this morning, Ellie barely even coughed or croaked when Eddie looked at her this morning. To go from looking groggy and tired to wheezing was a little drastic and extremely worrying. But Eddie couldn't go and pick her up. He was at work. They should be ringing Evan and telling him this.

"Has she been sick? How bad is her breathing?" There were a million things coming to Eddie's mind about what the problem could be and what was happening. One of which was Ellie had just coughed a bit too harshly and given herself a bit of chest pain from straining. He hoped it was that. He prayed that was what was wrong.

"She's not been sick, but she is gasping and wheezing and she's getting herself upset."

"Okay… I'm sorry but why are you calling me, not my partner?" There was no question that Ellie was going home. Evan was going to have to go and pick her up.

"We couldn't get hold of her mother, so we called you."

"No, I get that but- you've rang me twice to get hold of me, why didn't you ring her other dad, Mr Buckley?" It felt so strange to hear Evan's last name passing through his lips. It had been a long time since Eddie had called him Mr Buckley and that was only when they were at some sort of formal place like the doctor's office or when they were registering the kids for school.

Surely if (Y/n) and Eddie hadn't answered the first time around, they should have tried Evan too. Was he alright? Why wasn't he answering? He had dropped her off this morning, hadn't he spoken to them when he took her in?

"We tried her mother first, then we tried you. It's protocol to call the parents-"

"He is her parent! Ellie has three parents and Evan is one of them. He dropped her off this morning for God's sake. I know you've got him on file."

Eddie could feel his blood beginning to boil.

They couldn't be serious. They couldn't be doing this to them. They had four kids together, Eddie had added (Y/n) and Evan as Chris's adoptive parents at his school. They had registered all the girls together at each nursery and school they went to and they rarely got this problem.

The one main issue they had was when they had Maria registered at a preschool and she had an accident. They kept insisting they could only speak to 'the real father' and didn't accept that both Eddie and Evan were equal fathers to Maria. They took her out of that school the same day and registered her somewhere else.

Sure, they got a few odd looks when they first applied and went to look round, but most of the staff had been accepting and a little curious. No one had been this rude to them in years.

"I- I'm sorry…?"

"It's fine, I'll ring him and he'll be there in five minutes." Eddie crudely hung up the phone, snaking a hand through his hair as he scrolled to find Evan's icon and call him instead. He couldn't be bothered to argue with the receptionist, not when he was at work and needed to go get changed ready for when the bell sounded.

Evan wasn't going to be happy about this, Eddie could already feel the anger and he hadn't even spoken to his partner yet.

"Hey babe, everything okay?" Evan didn't usually get phone calls from Eddie when he was at work. It wasn't that often that they did split shifts, they were usually on shift together, even if their schedules only lined up for half a shift and one left and the other stayed.

With (Y/n)'s job it was different, she could call them and have a conversation while she was on shift. But Eddie never rang while he was at work.

"Babe, can you go to nursery and pick Ellie up please?"

"What, why?"

Evan sat forward on the sofa, his back hunching over while he dragged his free hand along the back of his neck. What was Eddie talking about? Why had he been talking to the nursery? They were supposed to ring Evan if there were any problems and he had been a little worried that he hadn't heard anything from them by now.

"They called me, she's having breathing problems and they're worried, you need to go get her."

"No one rang me." The hurt was evident in Evan's voice and it made Eddie wince.

"I- I know babe, I know. I've already told them you're on your way, just let me know how she is when you get there please."

Evan muttered a quiet 'Will do' before he ended the call and grabbed his keys. He had a gut feeling he would be heading back to that nursery earlier than planned today, but Evan thought he would at least get the call himself. They had seen him drop her off, he had spoken to one of the girls who worked there. They had him as one of Ellie's contacts, he was one of her dads.

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel and every now and then he moved his hand to scratch his jaw and drag his nails down his neck. He could feel the anger radiating through him and it was bustling out of him in waves.

What was wrong with her this time? Was he going to have to make another trip down to the emergency room?

Evan hated taking any of the kids to the emergency room on his own; he would have to call (Y/n) at work and ask her to meet him there. He would ring Eddie back and check whether the hospital was busy today or not. An ambulance might be quicker than sitting in the waiting room.

He dragged his hand across his face to liven himself up and see if it would somehow wipe away the angered, hardened expression he found staring back at him in the rear view mirror.

By the time he climbed out the jeep, he was shaking and his hands were balled into fists which he shoved in his jacket pockets.

He stormed into the reception he had been in less than six hours ago and drummed his hand against the counter as he waited for someone to talk to him.

"I'm here for Ellie, what's happened?"

"Someone to collect little Ellie."

Evan's eyes darted to the double doors ahead of him when he realised there was a lady leaning out, obviously waiting for someone. She nodded and beckoned Evan over. It was the girl he spoke to this morning. She held the door open for him for him and he hurried after her and followed her through the main room.

"She's right this way."

He could feel a wave of relief wash through him at finally seeing a familiar face. He would finally get some answers out of her and find out why no one called him and be told exactly what was wrong with his daughter.

"We tried contacting her parents-"

"Who do you think I am?"

The words flooded past Evan's lips before he could stop himself and he found his hands curling back into fists to try and calm himself down. His nails punctured into the palm of his hands and his head tilted to the side when the woman turned around to face him.

"I- I'm sorry?" She paused, one hand on the door that led into the small kitchen at the back. Clearly they wanted Ellie out the way of the other kids to try and calm her down.

"I've dropped my daughter off here before work a hundred times, I brought her in this morning and spoke to you. I told you if there were any problems, call me. But no one did, I had to find out second-hand that something was wrong. Who do you think I am, the babysitter?"

Did this girl honestly think Evan was the babysitter or Ellie's uncle? Did she think Evan was just a friend of the family who helped out and brought Ellie here on his days off? She had seen Ellie cling to him and kiss him goodbye. When Ellie was in her brighter mood she would kiss him on the cheek and say goodbye papa.

Did all of that mean nothing or go in one ear and straight out the other with this girl? What did she think happened or was going on when three different people brought Ellie into nursery and Ellie seemed attached and referred to them all as her parents?

At the very least, Evan thought this lady would have gotten the wrong impression and thought he was her stepdad or her mum's new boyfriend if she was that confused. Clearly she didn't think he was anyone of importance.

"I- well, um,"

"Her name is Buckley-Diaz and I'm Mr Buckley, that doesn't give you a clue, at all?"

Evan waited with raised brows and hunched shoulders but when the girl just stared at him and gawped, Evan sighed. There was no point debating this any further. Clearly they didn't care to work out what was going on or come to grips with the fact that Ellie was lucky enough to have three loving parents and not just two.

"She has two dads, one of them is me. If you have a problem with that, I won't hesitate to switch childcare providers."

With that said, Evan moved past her and pushed open the kitchen door and briskly walked inside. His eyes landed on Ellie straight away. His youngest was sat on a little plastic chair near the window, leaning forward like she was about to fall asleep sitting up. But the way she was trembling and cuddling her teddy to her chest told Evan she really wasn't well.

As soon as Ellie lifted her head, Evan saw the tears streaking down her face and he suddenly realised she was wheezing.

"Papa!" The word was breathless and crackled like static and she unhooked one arm from around her teddy to reach out for Evan when he knelt down in front of her.

His hands found her waist and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek while he rested her elbows on his knees and balanced back and forth on his heels. His thumbs brushed across her sides and he managed a calming smile when she looped her arm around his neck and tucked her temple against his so she could press a sloppy, gasping kiss to his cheek.

"Hi baby. What's wrong, hm? Tell me what's the matter." Evan kissed her again before he gently sat her up straight so he could look at her properly.

He watched her unhook her arm from his neck so she could tap her chest while she dropped her teddy to rest on her thighs. "Chest hurts, papa. Sore." She patted her chest before she moved her hand near her throat and back down again. Everything hurt. Breathing was a struggle, she wanted to cry but it made her gasp and her throat felt raw and broken.

"Let me see, baby."

Evan cupped one hand on her neck to check her pulse and he moved his other hand to gently cup her chin. He pressed his thumb against her lower lip to get her to open her mouth so he could take a look. Her throat looked red raw and inflamed and he didn't like how hard it was for her to breathe. Her pulse was quite high too.

With pursed lips, Evan leaned back, trying to stay calm so Ellie wouldn't panic as he rummaged around in his back pocket for his phone. But when he went to stand up, Ellie stretched her arms out and made a loud, croaky scream that had Evan shuddering and cringing.

"I'm not leaving, baby. Come're, shh I'm right here." In an instant, Evan leaned down and scooped Ellie up into his left arm so he could cuddle her into his chest.

He moved to stand near the window, gently bouncing Ellie in his arms every few seconds while he made a phone call. He leaned back so she could curl up on his chest and he felt her fingers scrunching up in his shirt as if to make sure he wouldn't dare put her back down.

"Buck, how is she?" Eddie's panicked voice came through the receiver within two rings and Evan guessed he had kept his phone in his pocket rather than his locker for any news.

"I'd guess tonsillitis, I'm taking her down to the emergency room, again."

"Again- fuck, that's the third time this year. Buck, I can come down and get you in the ambulance, then you won't have to wait, the emergency room was packed this morning when we dropped a few patients off. We can come down, just stay there."

That would make the third time that Ellie had gotten tonsillitis, and the doctors wouldn't do anything about it unless she got it at least seven times in a year. All they would do was give her antibiotics and tell them to keep her home and keep her fluids up. If she got worse or got a temperature, they would be back to the doctor for an inhaler, more meds and a chest X-ray.

Eddie couldn't see why they wouldn't just remove her tonsils and he done with it. This wasn't fair on her, always getting ill and forever getting chest infections, but there was nothing they could do to persuade the doctors otherwise.

"You sure?" Evan knew what that meant. He knew that meant the team would come down to this if Eddie made it a call out.

More to the point, the team would find out that Eddie and Evan were in a relationship together, and that they had kids. That they were in a poly relationship with someone else.

The team were open minded and always easy going and understanding, but the boys thought it better to keep their lives private. They didn't know what kind of looks they were going to get. It was bad enough that Evan's parents had reacted horribly to the news and used to ask Evan to find out if the girls were his or Eddie's.

And with Eddie's family being devout Catholics, they hadn't been impressed he'd entered a relationship with two other people at the same time. The team were loving and caring and understanding, but the boys didn't want any strange looks or frowns from the people they thought of as their family.

"We're coming down to you right now, babe. Call (Y/n), get her to meet us at the hospital. I'll see you both soon."

Evan found himself smiling and he leaned his cheek against Ellie's head and continued to sway her side to side. When he scrolled through his phone for (Y/n)'s contact, he stopped and looked down at Ellie as her hand scrunched up in his shirt and gave a small tug for his attention.

"We go home?"

"No, baby. Daddy's coming down to see us, you can see him in his uniform and ride in daddy's ambulance."

***

"Where are we going?"

Eddie ran his hands up and down his thighs and tilted his head back into the headrest when the truck took a right turn and had them all leaning to one side. He glanced across at Ravi who was switching between looking out the window and glancing over at Eddie and Chimney.

"My daughter's not well, we're gonna go take her to the emergency room." He moved his hands to grip his knees and he scratched his nails through his overalls.

He hadn't expected Bobby to say no when he approached and asked if they could go on a personal call. The moment he explained his daughter wasn't well and needed a trip to the emergency room, Bobby understood. He understood Eddie didn't want his partner or child to be waiting in the queue that had been out the door.

Not when Ellie could barely breathe and she was a high priority. Whereas if the team assessed her and took her, they could take her through the paramedics entrance at the hospital and she would see a doctor sooner than being in the waiting room for hours.

"How come?" Chimney had learned that they could ask Eddie questions about his private life if he opened the door and started the conversation. Otherwise, no one pried because he clearly liked to keep things private. They knew he had a partner and kids, but that was it. No no one had met any of them.

It was the same with Evan, no one asked him about his private life because he wouldn't offer anything up.

"She was a preemie, born three months early." Eddie tilted his head to the left and looked out the window as his hands left his knees and rung together between his thighs. "Picks up any infection going and nursery said she's not breathing well."

He couldn't have been more relieved when the truck pulled up outside the nursery.

Eddie had been expecting him and Hen to arrive in the ambulance while the rest of the team waited back at the station. But Bobby said they would all go and treat this like any other call out, and if they got another call on the way then everyone would be together and ready to divert after Eddie had been dropped at the hospital.

He climbed down and grabbed one of the medic bags from the side compartment before he led the way inside. Eddie grabbed the reception door and flung it open with haste and an air of confidence that almost rattled the walls.

His head turned to the left and his lips pursed when he watched the receptionist look him up and down with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. It was Daphne, the lady who had called Eddie less than an hour ago about Ellie, the one Eddie rarely spoke to whenever he dropped Ellie off.

"Mr Diaz," The surprise was evident in her voice and she darted to look towards the main room and back again. Clearly Evan hadn't told them he had called for back up.

"Where's Ellie?" He didn't have the time or the patience to play nice. Eddie wanted his family and he wanted to get out of here.

"In the kitchen."

As soon as Daphne pressed the button to unlock the door, Eddie stormed through with Bobby and Hen hot on his heels.

He didn't bother to smile at the carers or the toddlers who stopped to see who was storming through. Eddie didn't feel like smiling. He felt like screaming. not only had they pissed him off by disrespecting his boyfriend, they clearly hadn't called for any help or thought to contact a doctor whereas Evan clearly thought Ellie was bad enough to need to go to the hospital.

The sight in the kitchen was enough to melt Eddie's hardened exterior and his lips managed a smile when he looked around.

Evan was sat at the small round table, slouched back in the chair with one hand on the back of Ellie's head and the other hand on her back to try and keep her stable on his chest. He had his lips smothering the top of Ellie's head, but the moment they both heard the door open, the toddler was looking off in that direction.

"Daddy!"

"Hey little girl." Eddie grinned softly and dropped his medic bag on the middle of the table.

For a second, he forgot that the rest of the team were following behind him. He didn't think before he acted, not that it really mattered anymore, and he curved his hand around to cup the back of Evan's neck. His lips pressed down on Evan's forehead and his thumb glided over the back of his neck until he was shivering from the contact.

Eddie reached out with his free hand and grabbed the wooden chair behind him and dragged it over so he was sat in front of Evan with their knees bumping together.

"Alright, let me take a look at you, little one." He waited for Evan to spin Ellie around to face him before he reached out to cup her chin. He felt that her throat seemed a tiny bit swollen, unlike this morning, and he could already see the inside of her mouth was inflamed.

Ellie let him check her temperature and she stayed limp and mobile while Evan leaned her forward over his arm so Eddie could use the stethoscope to listen to her lungs and how croaky her breathing was.

"Buck?" Bobby stood in the corner of the room and moved his hands to his hips as he raised a brow. Eddie never mentioned anything about Evan being his partner. He could have sworn Eddie had mentioned the name (Y/n) more than once. Maybe he had gotten it wrong.

"Are you-"

"This is our daughter Ellie." Eddie didn't want to wait around and have them play the guessing game or stand and stare, trying to study and figure out what they were to each other.

He whipped the stethoscope from his ears and chucked them back in the bag before he rummaged around for a blood pressure cuff. With Evan here to hold her, Eddie might be able to get a reading. Ellie hated her blood pressure being taken and neither of them could blame her, it wasn't a nice feeling.

But Eddie paused and looked back at Ellie when her hand batted against his shoulder. She waited for him to look at her before she started to pat her chest and whimper. It was hurting again. And they all watched with sympathy in their eyes when Ellie started to croak and cough which turned into gasping cries from the pain it caused.

"Hurts,"

"I know, I know little one. Alright, let's get her in the ambulance."

When Eddie stood up and hooked the bag back over his shoulder, Evan turned Ellie around so she could cuddle back up into his shoulder with her face burrowed into the crook of his neck. But his eyes went straight back to Eddie and he watched his partner turn to face the care assistant who was still stood in the corner of the room.

"Don't expect us to bring our daughter back here again."

Evan pushed himself up onto numb legs and grabbed Eddie's hand, squeezing tightly as he led the way out after Hen and Chimney. He had seen the look of thunder on Eddie's face the moment he walked in here and he had heard the frustration in his voice over the phone.

If they weren't going to be understanding or even try to listen to them, they weren't bringing Ellie back here. They had to understand that she had three parents and they had to listen to each of them. They couldn't just make presumptions or ignore Evan like they had done today.

Eddie wouldn't stand for them being so rude to his boyfriend like that.

A tender smile flickered onto Evan's face when he felt Eddie's hand on his lower back and his partner follow close behind until Eddie's chest was almost bumping into his back with each step.

Bobby and Ravi headed back to the truck and took Eddie's bag with them while Chimney climbed in the driver's seat of the ambulance. And Hen opened the back doors, beckoning the boys to hop in before she followed after them.

Evan perched himself down on the gurney and sat Ellie on his lap with her back slouched into his chest. His hands splayed out on her chest and tummy and he smothered his lips into the top of her head while Hen and Eddie sat down in front of them.

"Is she your only child?" Hen scanned her eyes between the boys who both shared a look while Eddie bit down on his lip, leaving Evan to answer this one.

"You're the baby, aren't you?" He murmured into the top of Ellie's head. "We've got four. Chris, Lola, Maria, and then Ellie."

While Hen muttered a quiet "Damn." With wide eyes, Eddie looked through one of the drawers on his left and found a steroid inhaler. It was a very weak dosage that would do Ellie some good to try and get her throat and airways open so she could breathe easier.

"Let's try some of this, see? Big breaths, like daddy, and it will feel better." Eddie pressed the white pen-like inhaler to his lips and took a deep breath. He tried to smile and stop himself from coughing at the taste, but he knew if he or Evan didn't try it first, there was no way Ellie was going to believe them and have a go herself.

She squirmed back into Evan, whining and shaking her head until Evan kissed her cheek. "Be a good girl for us, hm? Then we can tell mummy how good you've been."

"Mummy?" Ellie tipped her head back into Evan's chest, coughing and croaking as she stared up at him.

"Yeah, mummy's gonna meet us at the doctors, you wanna make her proud, don't you?"

She scrunched up her nose and curled her lips, but when Eddie pressed the inhaler closer, she didn't pull away. Her eyes sparkled when Evan sucked in a deep breath and puffed out his chest to get her to imitate him while Hen grinned at the pair of them.

Ellie copied Evan and reached both her hands out to hold Eddie's wrists as she tried to breathe in the inhaler. But as soon as the powdered steroids got into her lungs, she gasped. Her short nails scratched the back of Eddie's hands and she wriggled back into Evan, screaming as much as she was able to with the little breath she had left.

"Baby please- Ellie no- okay, okay all gone, see? It's gone now." Eddie wrenched out of her rather tight grip and handed the inhaler to Hen so she could hide it.

He dropped his head down and sighed, shaking his hands to get some feeling back from where she gripped him and his thigh burned from how she had kicked him in her panic.

"You're a little fuss-pot, you know that?" Evan murmured quietly as he rubbed his chest that now felt bruised from where she bashed her head back into him. It had only been an inhaler, it wasn't as if it actually hurt to take it and it must have made her feel a little better, even if it didn't feel normal for her. She knew they weren't trying or going to hurt her.

"I wonder who she gets that from." Hen dead-panned as the three of them felt the ambulance pull to a stop.

"Not me. Come on, let's go find mummy." Leaning over, Eddie gently scooped Ellie up from Evan's lap and climbed out the back. He felt Evan's hands on his shoulders and both of them found (Y/n) straight away.

She was stood to the far side just shy of the ambulance entrance, leaning her shoulders and one foot up against the wall. With her arms folded over her chest and her bag hanging off one elbow.

When her eyes locked on them, her lips curved into a soft smile and she pushed off the wall to aim for her guys and their youngest baby.

Evan reached her first. He weaved beside Eddie to meet (Y/n) halfway and his hands found her hips while his lips attached to her forehead. Their phone call had been brief but (Y/n) had immediately agreed to meet them here at the hospital. Ellie would need all of them if she was going to be seen by a doctor because they could guarantee she would get distressed and have a meltdown or some kind of tantrum.

She gripped Evan's waist and leaned up to kiss his cheek before she reached out for Eddie. His arm curled around her waist and she pecked his lips while Ellie scrambled to get into her arms.

"Mummy,"

"I'm here, baby. Come on, what have you been doing, hm?"

When Evan turned his head to the side and noticed the smile playing on Hen's lips, he could feel his cheeks flushing pink and a blush crept up the side of his neck. "We'll introduce you all later."

"Hm, I'm counting on it."

[7s3ven]

THE IDEA OF US. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… the saddest thing in a relationship is knowing you met the wrong person at the wrong time yet you still can’t let them go.

“She’ll be the best you ever had if you let her. I know it’s for the better.”

A/N : This took me at least a week to right, omg

Warnings : toxic relationship, swearing, ed (eating d1sorder) mentioned, mental illness, mentions of sex, dirty jokes, making out, y/n and theo are both bitches, vulgar language, angst

—

Y/N L/N and Theodore Nott had been good friends for years. And their families had known each other for much longer. Since childhood, the two had been attached at the hip and nothing changed when they were accepted into Hogwarts.

“Y/N.” Theo called out, jogging to catch up with the girl. She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you can’t copy my answers, Theo. I told you to do the homework yourself.”

Theo sheepishly smiled. The day he was supposed to be studying, he was at a party. Y/N was there too, though she had already completed all her assignments and could drink without a care. Y/N had always been the better at academics out of the two.

“Change of topic, are you going to the Malfoy ball?” Theo asked. Y/N almost scoffed. She had no choice and neither did he. If their parents were going, they had to as well.

“Duh. What’s the color of your suit?”

“Dark blue. Apparently I look better in navy according to my mother.”

“Debatable.” Y/N hummed.

“Your dress?”

“Also dark blue. Matching. Again.” Y/N sarcastically smiled.

They seemed to coincidentally match for every important event; this was the fifth time. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was accidental anymore considering their mothers always chose their clothes for these events.

Theo chuckled, “I think our parents are up to something.”

“You just noticed?”

“Well, sorry I don’t pay that much attention to people like you.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy undressing girls with your eyes to notice.”

“The only girl I’m undressing is you and I don’t need my eyes for it. My hands can do that for me.” Theo smugly smirked while Y/N’s face scrunched up in disgust. She pushed him, causing the brunette to crash into a nearby stone wall. He winced, which amused Y/N.

“Think twice before you try and get me in bed, Nott.”

Theodore Nott was a handsome fellow with his slightly curled hair, messy tie, and the smell of cigarettes blending in with his strong cologne. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Y/N wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing him. He was attractive after all but still her best friend. It was never a good idea to date someone you saw every day because once you broke up, it became too awkward to bear.

That wasn’t the only reason. The main reason were Theo’s eyes. His gaze was constantly bored and dead, even when he was around beautiful girls. He never showed emotion apart from the smug smirk Y/N liked to wipe off his face. If she dated him, would he still he bored? Showing appreciation was never his strong point.

Theo slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “I was thinking that since you don’t like potions and I don’t either, we could take a little detour. Sneak in a cig or two. Maybe even some forbidden romance.”

For two years, Theo had been playfully flirting with Y/N. Nobody batted an eye, already assuming that the pair had something going on. Y/N could still remember the first terrible pickup line Theo had used on her after the Christmas break.

Y/N was walking down the steps that led to the girls’ dorms. She adjusted her tie so it wasn’t choking her to death. Her blouse and skirt were a size too small because she, or rather her parents, had forgotten to order a new uniform.

She spotted her usual friend group consisting of the highest-ranking Slytherins all perched upon the couches next to the fireplace. As she waltzed towards them, Theo lifted his head and for a moment, Y/N swore there was a flash of emotion before it disappeared.

“Matt, have you seen Pansy? She wasn’t in the dorm when I woke up.” Y/N placed a hand on Matteo’s shoulder like she always did. He turned to look at her, startled.

“Y/N, I didn’t even recognise you.”

“Seriously, Matt?”

“What? You’ve changed a lot!”

“My boobs just got bigger.”

Matteo’s eyes flickered down before he nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Theo leaned over to smack Matteo’s head. “Stop staring at her chest, you idiot.” As always, he came to Y/N’s rescue, even when she didn’t exactly need it.

“Matteo was right, though.” Theo piped up as he walked Y/N to class. “You have changed.” He heard her laugh. “I’m serious. It’s the way you carry yourself, not just your face.”

Theo was her best friend but he had never been so… gentle with her. He fanned his face with his hand, loudly exhaling. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

It took Y/N a moment to realise what he was implying. She stared at him, unamused. “Never talk to me again.”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer.” Y/N uttered, “But not the romance. Stay six meters away from me.”

That’s how Y/N and Theo ended up in the latter’s room, sharing one of Matteo’s cigarettes and laughing.

“Okay, but seriously. How many cloaks do you think Snape has in his wardrobe.” Y/N asked as she took the thin blunt from Theo.

He blew out a cloud of smoke. “He changes? I thought he lived in one.” An amused grin spread across the Slytherin’s face. “How many students do you think have accidentally patted Mcgonagall thinking she was a normal cat?”

“Plenty, I’m sure.” Y/N turned her head, almost jolting when her nose brushed Theo’s. “Ew, why are you so close?” She said it teasingly, grinning at her friend who was strangely silent.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

In all honesty, Theo wasn’t having much luck containing the thought of kissing Y/N either. The first few years of school were purely platonic but once everybody started to grow up, Theo found himself in an unusual predicament; he had feelings for his best friend.

“If you want to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” It was another playful jab at Theo but with all the smoke rushing to his head, he took it literally. Y/N didn’t expect him to grab her by the chin, forcefully pushing his lips against hers like he had been starved of kissing, which she knew wasn’t true. She had seen Theo kissing a brunette girl at a party weeks ago. Yet he hadn’t kissed her with such passion.

Theo was the first to pull away, his chest heaving up and down. Y/N remained still. She parted her lips to say something but no word rolled off her tongue.

“Theo.” She finally said. “What was that?”

“I thought you were being serious.” He was still unbearably close, his strong cologne washing over Y/N and clouding her senses. “We don’t have to talk about it… but I needed it. Let me have this, Y/N.”

She had never heard Theo beg. It sparked a fire of warmth in her chest. “Ask nicely.” She muttered. Theo paused for a short moment before he thickly swallowed.

“Please.”

The moment the word slipped past his lips in such a delicate way, Y/N leaned forward. Theo tilted his head back as their lips met once more, hands clumsily trailing over each other’s bodies and holding their breaths to make the kiss last longer.

Theo felt ashamed that he was kissing his friend but in the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. All he could focus on was Y/N. She was practically on top of him, easily taking control while he was reduced to putty.

Y/N with her perfect hair and untainted uniform.

Y/N with her chuckles of amusement at Theo’s reactions.

She was all that occupied his mind. He repeated her name in his head like a mantra, never stopping until they were wrapped and tangled in his bed sheets.

They never spoke of that particular day but a new spark had been born; one that consumed both their lives. Everybody noticed the not-so-secretive looks Theo sent Y/N and the small shared smiles in between classes. Like old times, Theo never left Y/N’s side. He paid no attention to other girls, not when his arm was wrapped around Y/N as she laughed with Pansy and made fun of Matteo. And despite the pair silently vowing the incident where they ended up in Theo’s bed together would not occur a second time, it always happened again.

The holidays finally arrived and the pinochle event of the wizarding world was finally drawing in; the Malfoy ball.

“Where’s Y/N?” Pansy was the last of the group to arrive at the manor, holding a bag that contained her dress and her extensive collection of makeup.

“Coming later.” Theo said, running a hand through his hair.

The whole group had decided to meet at the Malfoy Manor to get ready. Everybody but Y/N. This wasn’t unusual behaviour for her; she always stated how she worked better alone. Theo almost laughed at the memory of how she’d always refuse to do group work.

“How do you know that?” Draco piped up.

Theo casually shrugged as if he hadn’t spent two hours with Y/N. “I saw her on my way. She’ll probably arrive when the event starts.”

Pansy pouted. “I wanted her to help me with my dress.”

“I’ll help.” Draco said a little too quickly. Matteo and Lorenzo snickered together, playing kicking kissing faces at the platinum blond.

“Oh, shut up you morons.” Draco hissed as he followed Pansy to the bathroom to help her. As soon as he was gone, Lorenzo and Matteo chose Theo as their new victim.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice a little romance thing going on between you and a certain H/C-nette.” Matteo coolly uttered, resting an arm on Theo’s shoulder.

Lorenzo subtly rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t noticed? It’s quite obvious.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Theo muttered, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah. That bracelet on your arm says otherwise.” Matteo fired back. Theo almost started cursing at him. He had forgotten how he jokingly slid on one of Y/N’s bracelets. To make matters worse, not only were her initials carved into the silver but so was her full name.

“Coincidence.” Theo grumbled, quickly pocketing the bracelet.

“What about you two always sneaking off? You love staying at parties until the end but lately, you’ve been disappearing. Into rooms. With you-know-who.” Lorenzo was ganging up on Theo as well, much to his annoyance.

“I’m not fucking Matteo’s dad.” Theo retorted.

“When I said you-know-who, I meant Y/N!”

“I know! It was a joke, Enzo!” Theo huffed, his gaze darting back to the large mirror in front of him.

“We hear you, by the way.” Matteo whispered. “The walls are thin and we have to hang out in Blaise’s dorm when the door is closed because we know what’s happening.”

“Oh, please. Please. Yes, right there.” Lorenzo mocked, copying the noises he had heard mere days ago. Theo’s cheeks flushed red.

“That’s not me.” He was already losing to Matteo and Lorenzo’s little game but he stood firm.

“Hm. Right.” Matteo didn’t believe his friend’s words for one second. “Well, I better get dressed. Guests will be arriving soon. Can’t wait to see your little principessa or whatever you call her in bed.” He walked off, cackling like a hyena. Only Lorenzo was left.

“Just confess to her, dude. She probably feels the same way.” Lorenzo matted Theo’s back before he followed after Matteo, needing to get dressed as well.

Theo found himself alone in the glittering ballroom, still waiting for his late companions. He swirled the champagne around in his glass in boredom, almost wanting to spill it on someone to watch their reaction.

“All by yourself, Nott?”

Theo didn’t waste any time in spinning around. “Y/N.” He stated. She was staring up at him, focused on his eyes like she always was. Sometimes Theo wondered if he could see the slight joy in his gaze whenever she was around.

“Where are the others?” She questioned.

“I’m not sure. Right now, it’s just me.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s good because I was looking forward to spending more time with you.” As if they didn’t spend enough time together as they were.

“Isn’t it funny how our mothers dressed us up in not only the same color, but the same shade, as well?” Theo grinned. “Same fabric too. Are they trying to tell us something?”

“What? That we should date?”

Theo deeply hummed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He placed his glass on a nearby table, his attention focused solely on Y/N. “The party’s just started so let’s find a way to pass the time.”

Y/N grasped his tie, pulling him forward. “You’re on, Nott.”

They found themselves in a dark and crowded room filled with old antiques. Theo harshly kissed Y/N, tightly gripping her waist. In the midst of the heated moment, three words that Y/N dreaded accidentally slipped past her lips.

“I love you.” She froze, realising what she had said out of impulse.

“That’s too bad.” Theo joked but his words still made her heart sink and she felt numb in the actions that followed their kisses.

Nobody was shocked when they returned to Hogwarts to find that Y/N, who never liked anyone, and Theo, who only engaged in casual relationships, were dating. It was expected because they hardly spent any time apart, which made room for romantic feelings.

Theo knocked on Y/N’s dorm door. Somehow, he had found a way past the charm placed on the stairs. “Hey, the Ravenclaws are having a party. Wanna go? The whole gang is going.” He stepped into her room that she shared with Pansy and two other Slytherin girls.

Y/N was sitting on a desk pushed into the corner next to a window, overlooking the scenery. “Don’t feel like it.” She muttered, busy writing an essay for who knows what. Theo faltered.

“Are you sure? Otherwise I’ll go with Mel.”

Y/N paused and she slowly glanced over her shoulder. “Mel?” She raised her eyebrows in a condescending way. “Who’s that?”

“One of Pansy’s friends but she’s cool. She’s the one who invited us anyway.”

“Okay.” Y/N turned back to her work without uttering another word, leaving Theo frustrated.

“Why are you mad?” He questioned, taking a step forward.

“I’m not.” The monotone sound of Y/N’s voice made it clear that she was. “You can go to the party, I don’t care.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“And I wasn’t asking you to bring up another girl.”

Theo clenched his jaw. Y/N had been in a jealous state for over a week. Every time Theo simply accidentally glanced at another girl, she grew mad.

He spun Y/N’s chair around, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t shove him away. He could smell her expensive body lotion and perfume as it washed over him. “What the fuck is going on with you?” He seethed, “You’ve been like this all week. I don’t fucking know what you want, Y/N.”

“I want you to stop paying attention to other girls. Easy.” She shrugged.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to look at other girls if you were more laid-back.” The biting words rolled off Theo’s tongue before he could stop them. Annoyance clouded his brain but he knew he’d come to regret it when he saw that glint of anger in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m asking for the bare minimum, Theo.”

He didn’t even know what she was asking at this point.

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes like she always did. “Go to the party, see if I care. Maybe Mel is more laidback than me.”

With a strong push, Y/N shoved Theo back. She walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Theo stood in the same spot for a moment, trying to register what had happened. He heard the faint sound of the bath water running; Y/N always had relaxing baths when she was stressed.

“Come to the party if you change your mind.” Theo called out in a futile attempt to make amends. All he got in reply was a loud hum.

Theo wasn’t too sure when their relationship went downhill. It was great for a while in the honeymoon phase until the arguments started.

Theo would scream at Y/N for not eating so she could use that time to study until her nose bled and she passed out from exhaustion.

Y/N would accuse Theo of cheating because he spent about as much time with other girls as he did with Y/N and his friends. It wasn’t his fault he was a heartthrob.

After every fight, they made peace and promised not to let their mistakes happen again. But they always did because history repeats itself until you learn from it. Perhaps Theo and Y/N were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t exactly match but you forced them to anyway.

“Theo.” Mel’s hand brushed his shoulder as she handed him a dark bottle of beer. “What’s on your mind?”

Mel smelled like roses and sweet strawberries while Y/N’s perfume was always addictive and deep. They were complete opposites but Theo had always preferred Y/N’s.

“Y/N.” Theo grumbled, taking a gulp from the bottle.

“She’s always causing problems.” It was not Mel’s place to say such a thing but she wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know. She’s been so paranoid and it’s just rubbing me the wrong way. She gets mad at me every five minutes, even for shit I don’t do. She’ll blame Matteo’s tricks on me.”

Mel shifted closer to Theo, their hands accidentally brushing. She smiled. “You’ve told me about all this before. Why don’t you just break up?”

Theo almost wanted to laugh. Him? Break up with Y/N? She was a L/N, a prestigious family that stood above everybody else. He’d need to have a death wish to leave her. The only way he could get out unscathed was if Y/N broke up with him or if it was mutual.

Mel’s finger trailed up his thigh and despite Theo giving her a look to stop, he didn’t grasp her wrist.

His stomach sank in dread as someone behind him cleared their throat. “Is “one of Pansy’s friends” now code for a new fuck buddy?” Y/N leaned over, her warm breath hitting Theo’s neck. He could feel the anger radiating off her. “Nice one, Nott. You almost had me convinced you’d settled down.”

Theo was up in a heartbeat, practically pushing Mel away from him. He raced after Y/N, who had already exited the Ravenclaw common room. She was now quickly pacing through the dimly lit corridors, no particular location in mind.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Theo shouted, his voice echoing. He was expecting Y/N to speed up but instead, she spun around and grabbed him by the collar.

“What were you doing with her, huh?” Y/N hissed, “Just because you’ve finally tied me down doesn’t mean you can go and not put effort into this relationship!”

“I was only talking to her!”

“Well, it didn’t look purely platonic! Her hand was on your thigh and you didn’t even stop her!”

“That’s just the way girls are with me! What am I supposed to do, huh? You can’t ban me from talking to other people!”

Y/N shoved Theo, “You are so frustrating! You never take anything seriously!”

“And you take everything too literally. I was just talking to her! Nothing else!”

“She looked like she wanted to fucking kiss you! And she was probably going to!”

“Everybody wants to kiss me! Where’s the problem in that, huh?! You kiss me!”

“The problem is you have a fucking girlfriend!”

“You’re the one always talking to other guys like some…” Theo spluttered, tripping over his own words in search of a retort. “Some sort of slut!” As always, he immediately regretted his words. Y/N’s face morphed into a look of fury.

“I have been loyal from day one!” She screeched, “The thought of cheating has never crossed my mind so don’t you dare call me a slut when you know the only person here willing to cheat would be you!”

Y/N and Theo stared at each other, panting heavily. “Fuck you.” Theo whispered.

“Why don’t you go back to the party and fuck Mel instead, huh?” Y/N wittily snapped back. The last of Theo’s calmness finally broke and he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, shoving her into an empty classroom and locking the door behind him.

“Mel is only a friend. She’s not my girlfriend, you are. I have never thought of cheating either and the fact you accuse me of it is preposterous.”

“Using big words now, are you?” Even in a locked room with someone who could easily throw her out the window, Y/N was making annoyingly smart remarks.

Theo spoke again, only it wasn’t in English. He angrily spoke in full Italian, yelling at her. Y/N had learnt a few words for his sake but she found it hard to keep up.

The fast words slipped past Theo’s lips and he paused, waiting for Y/N to answer as if she actually understood him. She awkwardly smiled. “Uh… Sì?”

“At least you know that word. Mel doesn’t know any Italian so who’s the better one between you two, huh? I’ll give you a hint. I like girls who attempt to learn my language.”

“So get Mel to learn it.”

“I love you, not her.” Theo insisted.

“It’s too late for that.”

Theo let out a quiet sigh as Y/N unlocked the door. She paused, waiting for him to call out for her again. He didn’t.

“Have fun.” She grumbled.

Theo ran his tongue over his teeth before he grabbed Y/N’s shoulder. “Every time we argue, we don’t try to resolve it. So we’re going to work it out right here, right now.”

“Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” Y/N sneered.

“See, that’s your problem. You’re insecure.”

Y/N scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn’t insecure; she was far from it. She was the most confident girl in the year.

“You get paranoid every time I talk to a girl. You’re controlling and you’re always accusing me of shit I would never do.”

“You cheated on your first girlfriend.” Y/N piped up, making Theo freeze. “What? You didn’t think I’d find out? Once a cheater, always a cheater, Nott.”

“So why’d you date me, huh?”

“You aren’t even going to defend yourself? I thought you were different because you were my friend. I thought you finally grew up but I don’t think you have. My problem is paranoia, yours is cheating. And don’t get me fucking started on the drinking and smoking.”

Theo clenched his jaw. “You wanna play that game, prissy princess? Okay. You have more than one problem. In fact, you have too many to count. You’re fucked in the head, narcissistic, you can’t fucking eat properly, and you think everybody likes you when in reality, we’re all waiting for your downfall. You aren’t as popular as you think. And the damn studying. You study so much that you get sick! Physically and mentally sick! You’re just setting yourself up for failure!”

“I warned you.” Y/N whispered, harshly poking Theo’s chest. “I warned you about me! I warned you about the mental issues, the eating disorders, the problems that will start showing! And like everybody else, you said “it’s fine, I’ll be able to handle it”. Then like everybody else, you want to back away the moment I show negative signs! Do you think I like being like this? Depressed, anxious, paranoid, starving, and barely able to eat?! Do you think I fucking like going to therapy?!”

“You may as well go to more sessions because you aren’t getting any better.”

“You’re an ass, Nott.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Did we resolve the issue like you wanted? Because if so, I’d like to return to my dorm so I can watch a movie with a love interest who isn’t a complete jerk and only thinks with his dick.” As always, Y/N was the first to storm off.

“You love my dick!” Theo shouted after her.

“Fuck you!” She pointed the middle finger at him without turning out.

Theo shoved his hands into his deep pockets, clicking his tongue. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, hoping it would fix his pounding headache. “I need a cigarette.”

Theo didn’t attend his classes the next day. And, by the looks of it and the remarks from Pansy, neither did Y/N. He stumbled across her in the astronomy tower, smoking one of her reserved cigarettes.

“You beat me to my spot.” Theo grunted, cautiously taking a seat beside Y/N. She didn’t shove him away. She only slowly blinked and nodded.

“You should go to potions.” She muttered, smoke seeping past her teeth.

They were both numb from their previous argument, too tired to fight again. Theo had stayed up all night, replaying Y/N’s words in his head and scolding himself. Y/N wasn’t any better. Pansy slipped her some vodka from the party and the events that followed after were hazed history.

“How’s Mel?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from being snarky. She heard Theo scoff.

“Fuck, you can’t stop bringing her up for even five minutes?”

There were no apologies in their relationship. Perhaps they learn it from their parents who, every time they’d argue, would gift them with lavish gifts instead of saying sorry.

“Why should I? You can’t stop calling me a slut.”

“It was one time.”

An awkward silence settled between the pair before Theo drew in a heavy breath.

“I love you…” He muttered. Y/N thickly swallowed, blowing out another mouthful of smoke.

“If you loved me, we wouldn’t be doing this. We wouldn’t be going back and forth, continuously fighting and trying to one up each other. We wouldn’t be trying so hard to make this work when we know it’s going to fail.”

A pit settled in Theo’s stomach. “Are you… breaking up with me?” The sadness in Y/N’s eyes made it apparent.

“Face it, Theo, we aren’t a good match. The only other reason we got this far is because of our parents. Our parents wanted us to never friends, our parents wanted us to date, our parents want us to get married. What about what we want? What happens if we do get married? It’ll crash and burn. We don’t work. No matter how hard we try, we will never work.”

“But… I love you.”

Y/N shook her head, “That’s not enough this time.”

The sudden realisation that Theo was losing Y/N caused him to cup her face, pressing his forehead against his.

“There’s a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving them.” Y/N mumbled, “Us? We love the idea of each other. We are constantly stuck on the “what ifs” of our relationship? The possibilities. We are so obsessed with this relationship because we created a different version of each other in our heads when in reality, those version of us will never be true.”

Theo rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. He knew she was only telling the truth but it still hurt. Maybe Y/N was the right person for him or maybe she wasn’t; all he knew was that they met at the wrong time.

“I love you too, Theo, but we have a problem even saying those simple words.”

Their breakup was inevitable once the arguments started. It was only a matter of time before the fighting became too frequent to ignore.

“So… this is it?” Theo muttered. “We’re finally breaking up?”

“We had a good run, Theo.” Y/N uttered, fiddling with her cigarette. She handed it to Theo, slightly smiling. “See you around… I guess.”

“You’re just… walking away?” Theo himself was cold sometimes but he didn’t expect it from Y/N. It was finally clear why she had been placed in Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw; she was as heartless as her friends.

“If I don’t walk away, Nott, then I’ll keep holding on when I know I need to let go.”

Nott. Y/N always called him that when she was angry or teasing him. She didn’t look angry this time, only sad. They’d see each other at meals for sure but it would never be the same because they’d no longer be holding hands under the table.

“See you at dinner.” Y/N said, her voice a hushed mutter. She feared that if she spoke any louder, Theo would hear her voice break and notice her glassy eyes.

“Yeah… see you.” Theo watched as Y/N walked off with no intention of chasing after her. He wanted to and it took all his power to fight the urges to hold her back. This was for the best. Theo knew he’d have to let go of Y/N eventually so that both of them could pursue a healthier relationship in the far future.

He’d always be thinking of her, though, day and night. He knew it’d be the same for Y/N because despite everything that had happened between them, they were still each other’s first loves.

Theo glanced down at the cigarette he held in his hand. He could see Y/N’s lipstick stain imprinted on it, the last reminder of the kisses they shared before it all burned down.

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