#fun fact this was mostly done with one brush

[the-dragon-girl-27]

Apparitions Stalk the Night

speedraw

[meiieiri]

when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞

“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you’ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“

You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.

“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“

“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”

“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.

Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you.”

No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.

Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.

You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.

But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.

It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”

“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“

“—Our baby boy.”

“—An overgrown parasite.”

Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”

“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”

“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.

“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”

“You and I both know it’s never just one.”

Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”

And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…

“Mmph—“

There it was.

Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.

“You little shit—“

Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.

Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.

Definitely not him, that’s for sure.

Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.

But…

“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”

He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.

“I’m heading out today.”

Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.

But for once, Toji was scared.

He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.

Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.

A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”

A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.

Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.

He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.

…

…

…

Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”

He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.

“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“

“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.

“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”

Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”

Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.

“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”

Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.

“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”

Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.

Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.

“You really are your mother’s son.”

[devotion-disorder]

be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again. 

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think. 

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently. 

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight. 

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

[girlgenius1111]

close to you

alexia putellas x leila ouahabi x jenni hermoso x reader a third installment of the orgy fic: rush by @vixwritesagain [all chapters + all OOYG chapters linked on her masterlist] the group takes a trip to ibiza. alexia and r are too stubborn for their own goods mostly fluff, small angst, no smut in this part but still; 18+ note: there isn't much left to say about vix that i haven't already said but i love her brain and i LOVED writing this with her. different to any of the previous fics in this little universe, which was so much fun. give her all the love <3

—

You were carrying both your water bottle and Leila’s. There was nothing you could do when you felt the faintest brush of someone’s fingers on your neck, which you were sure was the intention. 

“Jenni,” you hissed, crossing your arms over your chest as your bikini top fell limply down your front, now only held up by the string across your back.

The brunette laughed loudly in response, taking advantage of the fact that your hands were full and you couldn’t chase her around the pool deck like you’d done an hour ago, when she’d done the same thing. Instead you glared at her through your sunglasses, stomping over to the pair of loungers you and Leila were using. Setting the water bottles down, you quickly pulled the swimsuit back up, hands fiddling with the strings. 

Behind you, Leila cleared her throat, and you turned to see her looking purposefully between you and Alexia, who was sprawled across her own chair, just a few feet away. Her eyes were obscured by her sunglasses, but you got the strange feeling that she was watching you. Knowing what Leila was getting at, you shook your head, sitting on the edge of her chair. 

“Tie it for me, please?” You requested. 

Always one to take your comfort seriously, Leila did as you asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your head once she was done. She lingered there for a moment, her arms wrapping around your midsection and pulling you back into her. 

“You have to start somewhere, bebé.” She whispered. “Leave it off.” 

You scowled feeling your face heat up. Stealing another glance over at the blonde, who was now taking a sip from her own drink, the condensation sliding off the bottom of the cup and down the tan skin of her very bare chest. 

If Alexia felt your gaze on her, she didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else; it was already the 2nd day of your trip and though you were sharing a villa with Alexia, eating meals with her and swimming in the same pool, she had remained indifferent towards you. No more than polite words and greetings, just like she’d given you in the weeks since your last… thing. 

Alexia could talk about football for hours at work, but the second you got involved, things quietened down. Sometimes you’d try and play around with her to tease out the softer side you’d caught glimpses off in the past. Instead of returning your playfulness, Alexia would stare until you were uncomfortable enough to walk away. 

Alexia was borderline cold with you, yet she was the polar opposite with both her girlfriend, and yours. 

Leila knew better than anyone that it was driving you insane. 

When Leila had brought up the idea of a joint trip with the other couple, you’d jumped at the chance. There hadn’t been much time in recent weeks to get as… acquainted… with them as you’d been in the past, as you hoped to get again. Time away from work felt like the perfect place to pull her out of her shell. And though the sexual tension around the villa could have been cut with a knife, Alexia continued to treat this like some kind of professional business trip. And so you did too. 

“No.” You whispered back to Leila. “Leave it alone unless you want to help me.” 

Leila just sighed, pulling you back to rest against her even though it was much too hot. Her silence told you the conversation wasn’t over, but you were again distracted by the sight of Alexia getting up off her chair and walking tantalizingly slowly over to the steps of the pool. 

If you weren’t going to be having sex with her on this trip, why couldn’t you have gone somewhere cold, where she would have been bundled up. That way, the miles of tan skin and legs and muscles would have stayed safely under wraps, and you wouldn’t feel like tearing your hair out in a horny nervous breakdown every time you walked out onto the pool deck. 

—

It wasn’t until later that Alexia breached the subject of you with Jenni. She was tired of waiting, annoyed that everyone seemed to be waiting on her to make the first move; so much so she wasn’t sure anyone else actually wanted it. 

“I want them.” Alexia hummed before taking another bite of her toast. 

“Again?” Jenni replied as she closed the fridge. “Hung up on them, aren’t you?”

The captain twisted around, eyeing her girlfriend with suspicion. “You don’t want..?” 

“Of course I want to. More than once this time.” Jenni shifted closer, reaching out to push herself up against Alexia’s back. Hooking her chin over her shoulder, she took a moment to appreciate the scantily clad couple in the distance. 

Alexia carefully watched the approaching figures, too wrapped up in one another to really notice. “She doesn’t. She won’t even look at me.” 

“You won’t look at her. Especially not when she’s paying attention.” 

“She doesn’t want me to.” 

Jenni chuckled softly, turning to press her lips against Alexia’s neck. “That’s not true. Maybe if you replied with more than one word answers, you’d see how much she wants you.” 

Alexia huffed dramatically, taking another chomp of her snack instead of humoring her girlfriend with a reply. 

Well used to Alexia’s unspoken insecurities, Jenni kissed her once more before unwrapping herself to fix her own lunch. 

–

Maybe it was because she hadn’t touched you yet, or seemed even mildly interested in doing so, that you were so desperate for her. Leila, and Jenni to an extent, were obtainable. A few words, a few kisses, you knew they’d be on board. Alexia, however, remained like a statue. She’d barely spoken to you in the 48 hours you’d been on holiday, and it was as confusing as it was annoying. 

Weren’t you both passed this, by now? Apparently not. You had brushed behind her in the kitchen earlier in the day, and she’d frozen completely, before bolting out of the room and back outside, her snack forgotten on the counter. 

“Does she not want me anymore?” You mused, laying with your back pressed to Leila’s bare chest. It was late, dark in the room except for the glow of the moon bouncing off the nearby water and through the window. Though you couldn’t see your girlfriend’s face, you had the distinct feeling that she was rolling her eyes at you, but with nothing to back it up, you let it go. 

“Bebé, just ask her.” Leila told you, arms tightening where they were looped around your abdomen. 

“Ask her.” You scoffed. “She won’t look me in the eye, she’s barely said two words to me since we’ve gotten here. I can’t just ask if she wants to have sex.” 

“It wouldn’t be completely out of nowhere, you’ve slept with her twice.” The brunette reminded you, her eyes flicking over to her phone, where the screen lit up just barely with a text.

Jenni: This is getting ridiculous. I think we should lock them in the bathroom together or something.

Holding back a snort, Leila refocused back on you, rambling away about how annoying Alexia was when she was being so standoffish. Leila knew you meant hot, but were too proud to say so. She hummed along, reaching for her phone once she was sure you were suitably distracted. 

-

Leila: With a vibrator or something. And no clothes. And me! 

Jenni rolled her eyes, casually pushing her phone back under her pillow with one hand, her other continuing its motion through Alexia’s hair. 

“I had her screaming and begging for me and now she’s pretending like it never happened.” Alexia ranted, sighing loudly when she got no response from her girlfriend. Tilting her head up, she frowned when she was met with a small grin on Jenni’s face. “What? What are you smiling about?”

Jenni just shook her head. “You know what I’m going to tell you, Ale.” 

“I don’t want to ask her, Jennifer. I want her to want me.” The midfielder grumbled. 

“Well, maybe she wants you to go to her.” 

“I don’t beg.” Alexia sighed, her face heating up when her girlfriend fixed her with a knowing look. “Okay, I don’t beg for her, she begs for me. And she will. I don’t care how long it takes.” 

Jenni let her eyes trail down to where the t-shirt Alexia had definitely stolen from her suitcase had ridden up, tan skin covering thick muscle.  “But it could be so much faster if you just started it.”

“No. If she wants it, she’ll come.”

Jenni tried to ignore the hint of insecurity in Alexia’s voice, opting instead to stroke back her baby hairs. “She already comes, thinking about you, remember?” 

Reveling in the tiniest upturn of her girlfriend’s mouth, Jenni bent down for a kiss. “And if you ask me, she’s crazy for not jumping on you today. I’ll be dreaming of that little bikini tonight.” “I can put it back on for you?” Alexia offered, sitting up a little to stay close. She giggled at Jenni’s theatrical groan. 

“But then you’d have to take off my clothes.”

“Sí. Or you could do it for me?” The way Alexia boldly grabbed Jenni’s hand, dragging it lower and lower on her body until the striker’s long fingers could toy with the waistband of her shorts, made up her mind. If Alexia wouldn’t take the first step, and you wouldn’t either, then there was nothing left to do but meddle. 

With a quick series of kisses, Jenni grabbed her phone and slipped away to the bathroom, promising to finish what Alexia had started when she came back. Once the door was securely shut behind her, she replied to the defender. 

Jenni: This is going nowhere. Plan B tomorrow. 

Leila’s reply came through quickly. 

Leila: Can we get more of that chocolate ice cream while we’re out?

Jenni sighed, for what felt like the 5th time that evening. No wonder her plan had been failing so miserably, what with her accomplice being so easily distracted. Leila could have all the ice cream in the world if that’s what it took for her to remain subtle and let the two of you start yourselves. 

—

“Amor! Jenni and I are going to the store!” Leila shouted, just barely poking her head out the door. You looked up from your book, eyes wide. Your girlfriend was dressed, not in the swim suit she’d had on earlier.

“You and Jenni and… Alexia?” You asked, sitting up fully and attempting to fix Leila with your most threatening stare. 

Leila bit at her lip, something she only did when she was trying to hide her smirk. “No, just me and Jenni. Bye, I love you!” She shut the door behind her before you could say anything back. You had the very distinct feeling that you were in the middle of some kind of plot, one that had Jenni written all over it. 

As Leila disappeared into the house, you made out the outline of Alexia, just barely visible through the glare of the sun off the glass. Even the mere sight of her silhouette was erasing every thought from your head, and you cursed the woman for looking so good all the time. It would have been easier, honestly, if you knew for sure that you couldn’t have her. This awkward, stunted dynamic between the two of you was driving you insane, and now you were going to be all alone with her. 

Inside the house, Jenni was wishing she’d followed Leila’s lead and told her girlfriend she was leaving from a safe distance away. Instead, Alexia stood right in front of her, jaw dropped in horror.  

“What do you mean you’re going to the store with Leila?” Alexia frowned. 

Jenni snorted, leaning in to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek even as she began to tease. “Well, Leila and I are going to get in the car, and then drive to this place that sells food. And then-”

“Jenni, take me.” Alexia interrupted, an unusual amount of panic in her voice. “She’s in a bikini. I’m going with you.” 

The striker chuckled, detaching her girlfriend’s hands from where they were clutching onto her shirt. “No, you need rest after last night. You should go out by the pool, take a nap. Or tire yourself out more.” 

Alexia glared back at her girlfriend, fighting to keep her focus on the brunette and not let it drift over to where you were spread out on a lounge chair. Just over Jenni’s shoulder, you were staring at the door, skin glistening with sweat, long legs extended in front of you… 

Alexia shook her head but Jenni was already moving towards the front door. “Jennifer Hermoso, do not leave me here.” The midfielder hissed, fighting the urge to jump onto her girlfriend’s back and tackle her to the floor. 

“But you won’t be alone, amor!” Jenni grinned, turning around to face her girlfriend, yet continuing to back towards the front door. “And put that red bikini on. It’ll drive her crazy.” 

“I am going to kill you.” Alexia vowed through gritted teeth. 

“Maybe she can put you in a good mood first. Ciao!” Jenni sang, slipping out the front door and shutting it behind her. 

__

For a while, the villa was far quieter than you were used to. As hot as it was outside, you were set on remaining right there, baking in the sun rather than facing whatever frosty reception was indoors. After a while, the choice was made for you. 

The sliding doors opened, and as much as you were trying not to look, it was impossible to ignore firetruck red. 

Alexia closed the door silently, shuffling her way into the sun before pulling her sunglasses down and stretching out face down over the lounger. Not once did she glance in your direction. 

There was silence while you took in the perfect curve of her ass, hardly covered. 

“I like your swimsuit.” You called gently. 

Alexia shifted a little before grumbling. With her face away from you, it was a struggle to understand. “Gracias. Jenni likes it.” 

Of course. Jenni, her girlfriend. The person she actually wants to talk to. 

Silence fell once more. 

“She has good taste.” You hummed, sitting up quickly to gather your things. It was too hot, your water bottle was empty, you needed to freshen up before Leila got home. Whatever rationalization you thought through, none felt completely true. 

You were both quiet as you retreated back through the doors, into the safety of the kitchen. 

For a while, you sat at the island, sipping cool water and trying to think of anything beyond Alexia. No matter which path you took, from Leila to work, family to future plans, somehow your brian would always find its way back to her. 

You flinched when the sliding door opened, then came the soft pads of her footsteps until swaths of tanned skin stepped into your eye line. 

“You can..?” Alexia trailed off, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. 

Finally you looked at her, schooling yourself to ignore the way the peak of her nipples could be seen through the thinly stretched triangles of her top. It took the raise of her eyebrows for your brain to catch up. “Me? I can. Yeah, of course.”  

In a few short days, you’d seen Jenni take full advantage of Alexia’s love of sun safety. You’d tried not to stare at the striker’s wet hands dragging over every inch of her girlfriend’s body, kneading tight muscles until Alexia would moan and melt into her.  

Slowly, you slid off the chair and closer to her. Slipping the bottle to your hand, Alexia turned and pulled her ponytail out of the way. 

It wasn’t often you got to freely admire your Captain’s back. Bare skin dotted with tattoos and tiny freckles all the way down to where her bikini (hardly) covered her ass. After squirting a little too much sunscreen onto your hands, you pressed them against her. Her skin was already hot. 

You could feel the thick muscle of her back under your fingertips as you committed to the task, meticulously ensuring that every centimeter was coated well. The top half was straightforward, bar having to dodge the ties of her top. As you moved downwards, your brain started to go into overdrive. The tiniest sigh from her as your thumbs stroked over her lower back made you shiver. 

Lower still, until one hand had to curve around her hip to steady her when you dipped your fingers just underneath where her bikini covered. 

Alexia was still and silent. 

Perhaps it was selfish how you lingered, stroking over and over in the hopes that maybe something would make her crack. The tiniest sign that she wanted more was all you needed, but even as your hands stroked back to safer spots, nothing. 

“Was there anywhere else?” You murmured. 

“No!” Alexia said immediately, twisting to pick up the sunscreen bottle and step away. “Gracias.”

“Anytime.” You replied, but she was already taking fast steps towards the door. 

-

Jenni and Leila reentered the house, both frowning at the quiet they found. Jenni was disappointed at the thought that no progress had been made. Leila was less discouraged. 

“Maybe they are outside!” She said hopefully, depositing the several bags of groceries she was carrying on the counter, before spotting Alexia, alone, out on the pool deck. 

“Your girlfriend is stubborn.” Jenni sighed, opening the freezer to unload the three entire pints of chocolate ice cream she’d been conned into buying. Her girlfriend looked tense, even as she lounged on a chair. 

Leila turned from where she was headed to search for you, looking affronted, but before she could say a word in response, the bedroom door creaked open and you darted out, grabbing onto Leila’s wrist and yanking her back into the room with you. 

“Bebé! There you are!” Leila began, flashing you with a sunny smile and attempting to lean in to kiss your cheek. She paused, though, finding your cheeks flushed red, a sheen of sweat visible on your forehead. “Have you had too much sun?” 

Even your girlfriend’s sweet concern couldn’t distract you from the problem at hand. “No! I have had too much Alexia. She’s wearing this bikini - and the sunscreen on her back, and her skin is so warm, and-”

“You and Alexia?” Leila asked excitedly, dragging you over to the bed. She caught the way the sheets were slightly crumpled, and how you were wearing a different pair of swimsuit bottoms than before, taking it all to mean something that it absolutely didn’t. “Tell me about it!”

“She asked me to put sunscreen on her back.” 

Leila blinked, wondering if that was some kind of English euphemism she’d never learned. 

“Sunscreen on her back… like the… you… what kind of sex is that?” She asked, an adorably confused look adorning her features. 

You glared at your girlfriend, ripping your hand away from hers and beginning to pace around the room. “That is no kind of sex Leila! I complimented her bikini, and she barely replied, so I went inside and she followed me, just to ask me put sunscreen on her back!” 

“Did you?”

“Oh yes. I put sunscreen all over her back. Everywhere. I lingered and I touched her and nothing!” 

“Nothing?” 

“No. And now I’m all…” you trailed off, waving your hands around in the air wildly. “And it’s all your fault for leaving me here with her.” At this, Leila had the decency to look mildly guilty, reaching out her hand to lace her fingers with yours. She drew you in, closer and closer, until she could wrap her arms around your midsection, and pull you into her lap. 

“I would have enjoyed you putting lotion on my back. It would have been very hot, bebé. Irresistible.” Leila’s words were soft, but held an undertone that had the feelings you’d been trying to shove aside flooding back into you. 

You shifted so you could look at her face. “Yeah?” 

“Sí.” Leila nodded earnestly, leaning up to gently peck your cheek. She had barely pulled away before you were moving around to straddle her lap, pressing your lips urgently to your girlfriend’s. If Leila was surprised at the turn of events, she didn’t show it, her hands settling on your hips as she allowed you to press her back down onto the mattress. 

The act of dominance wasn’t unusual for you to put on at the beginning, and Leila knew very well that it would only be a few minutes before all you wanted was to be underneath her. Still, she laced her fingers through your hair, giving a soft tug. The low whine you let out gave her an idea. 

Technically, it had been Jenni’s Plan C, but Leila decided to take initiative. 

---

the first part of... five? 17k words and counting 😅

[aziawow]

now that we're here... (benny weir x f!reader) nsfw, 6.6k words

summary: in the heat of the moment, you and benny sleep together. you don't even kiss. a devilish plot (and teenage awkwardness) keeps you from talking to him about that night. the solution, however, might just be part of the very thing you're avoiding.

warnings: nsfw, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (DO NOT EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX!!! USE A CONDOM EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!), implied reader isn't a virgin, blood, language, devil mention, implied animal abuse, death (of ocs), panic attack. if there are any other warnings please let me know so i can add

notes: no use of y/n, she/her reader, can also double as a rory x platonic!reader bc they're such besties. this fic is so fun pls give it a read!

You’re not entirely sure how it happens. Seriously. Yes, you’re super ultra mega attracted to Benny, but you never expected this to happen, especially as suddenly as it did. 

You’re a planner, extremely detail oriented, and you’re almost never taken by surprise. Impulsivity isn’t you, it’s Benny. So what made you throw caution into the wind and do this? 

You’re not even together; you didn’t even kiss. 

Suffice to say, you’re freaking the fuck out. 

***

You and Benny are chilling together, watching a movie on his bed. It’s rare for you two to be alone, but Ethan had to help his parents with whatever, Rory was doing whatever Rory does, and Sarah and Erica were having fun in town. They invited you, but with the supernatural craziness of the last few days, you just wanted a quiet night in for once. 

Years of familiarity resulted in you and Benny being pretty comfortable with each other, so you were cuddled together, you mostly on top of Benny while you both made fun of the movie and stuffed your faces with popcorn. 

You think it happens because you got thirsty. 

One second you’re reaching across Benny to grab your drink, then another has Benny hissing through his teeth and grabbing you. He held you still, and you glanced up. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, and a peculiar red flush adorned his face. His breathing was quickened, and he was practically shaking. 

Startled by his behavior, you sat up, still half on his lap and completely oblivious. 

“Benny, what’s wrong?” You place the back of your hand on his cheek, thinking he might have a temperature. Hot, but not feverish. You scoot forward a little to reach his forehead, and Benny gasps. 

“Please,” he strains, “stop moving.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. He was making no sense. “What…”

Then, you feel it. 

Your leg was brushing against his very prominent, very hard, erection. 

“Oh,” you gulp.

Benny’s eyes spring open, his mouth starts to move, but he can’t seem to say anything. You know he’d try to shrug this off, tell you it’ll go away, and apologize to lessen the sheer awkwardness of the moment. 

You don’t want him to. 

His lips are parted, panting quietly, face blushing the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, skin sheening with sweat, and his eyes? One part horrified and the other completely and utterly aroused. 

You really don’t want to waste this moment. 

Without thinking, you place a hand on his upper thigh. Firm enough to not get lost in translation but gentle so he could brush you away if he didn’t want this after all.

Your eyes meet, confusion and hope and desperation swimming in his. Slowly, you slide your hand upward, waiting for him to swat you away. 

He doesn’t. 

When you reach his front, you apply pressure and palm him through his pants. 

Benny groans delectably, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

You can feel yourself get wet at his reaction, the burn between your legs throbbing as the seconds pass. The fact that one little touch from you elicits a response like this makes your veins rush with power. 

Then, he moans your name. 

You’re done playing. You unzip his jeans and push them down. Benny, who has all but collapsed on his pillows, eagerly helps you slip the rest of it off. 

You climb on him again, fully this time, and take him into your hands. You pump him a few times, having to wet your hands with your spit. He’s shaking under you, making these small pathetic noises that have you grinding on his thigh. 

He’s lasting for a lot longer than you expect a teenage boy to, especially a virgin. 

Benny surprises you yet again by sitting up abruptly, and you let him go. He takes his shirt off, and when it’s discarded somewhere on his messy floor, he presses your foreheads together, mouths breathing into each other but not quite touching. 

His hands play with the hem of your shirt.

“Benny,” you moan, when his fingers disappear under the fabric and press against your hot skin. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks, throat raspy and deep. You nod at him, and your top joins his on the floor before you can blink.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, just feeling and squeezing. Benny nuzzles your neck and collarbones, pressing kisses and leaving nips here and there. You grip his hair and pull, feeling the whine of pleasure Benny lets out against your skin.

After a few moments of this, you realize Benny is nearly naked, and you still have your pants on. You pull away from him and sit up higher on your knees. When Benny realizes your next course of action, he wastes no time in helping you rid yourself from your pants, and when they’re gone, he grabs a handful of your ass and blinks up at you, wide and ready. 

You reach behind your back and unhook your bra, peeling it off slowly, almost painfully so, for Benny. You toss it aside, and all he can do is stare. 

You reach for his hands and place them on your breasts. When he starts to feel you up and squeeze, you throw your head back and keen at the sensation. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. You look down at Benny, and he’s peering up at you through his dark lashes with nothing but want behind his eyes. Instinctively, you pull his head to your chest, and your pleasure multiplies when Benny immediately starts licking and sucking and kissing you all over. 

Your legs are delightfully weak at this point, so you push Benny back down on the sheets and fall on top of him. You’re still touching each other and it feels like he’s become a second skin. You hardly register his hand going further down until it rests on your lower abdomen, toying with your panty line.

“Can I touch you?” he all but pleads, and who were you to deny him? 

You’re nearly sobbing when he slips his fingers into your folds, feeling the wetness he caused. You can tell he’s trying to finger your clit, so you decide to be a good partner and guide him to its location. You shudder when he finally finds it on his own and begins to rub, the friction nearly too much for you. 

You’re kissing and biting his skin, one hand gripping his sheets and the other skimming along his chest, your nails scratching and digging into him. You grind back on his hand, so he picks up the pace and you know right then you’re about to cum. 

“Benny,” you warn. “Benny, don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t, and you cry into his neck when you orgasm on his fingers. 

You both lay there panting, but you have no time to bask in the afterglow when you remember he hasn’t came yet. 

You get on your hands and knees above Benny, and you lower your face to his, still not touching except your hair brushing his. 

“Do you want me?” you ask. You want him. You want him so bad you don’t know what you’d do if he said no. 

He nods, and your heart flutters. 

“No,” you whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

He nods again. “Yes. Yes I do. Please,” he begs. He starts to babble his affirmation and continues to do so when you get your underwear and his boxers off. You grip him and slick his head up with your juices, and when you finally sink down, Benny shuts up and you both sigh as you seat him fully inside you. 

You start to rock, fucking yourself with his cock and feeling so, so good. Benny’s hands find your hips and together, you find a pace as you ride him. Your hands are on his chest as you slide up and down on him. He begins to feel you again, your torso, your breasts, shoulders, and hair. You don’t want him to stop exactly, because it makes the pleasure increase tenfold, but you’re in control, and it's so hot when Benny does what you want. 

You grab his wrist and pin them on either side of his head, and the flash of lust in his eyes as you do so makes you smirk. 

You keep holding him down as you pump in and out of him, as you rock against him, but after a while your legs begin to ache. Benny, feeling you slow down, takes the reins. 

You let him go, and he wraps an arm around your body, pulling you down flush against him. The other hand weaves through your hair, angling your head once more into the crook of his neck. Holding you tight, he fucks up into you, and you feel something you never have before. 

For a virgin, he’s a natural at this. Your bodies know what they want and how to get it, the carnal desire guiding you the whole way. You can feel him pulse inside you, and you know you’re both about to cum when his thrusts grow quicker. 

“Benny,” you moan into his ear, and that’s all it takes. His motions get sloppier as he climaxes, but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of coming yourself. 

You’re laying there, trying to catch your breath and clinging together tightly. He’s practically hugging you, and you're running your fingers through his hair. 

You know you can’t stay like this forever, so you pull off of him, both of you wincing as you do so. You want to find your clothes and dash, but your legs wobble and you fall back down on him. 

You expected Benny to crack a joke like he always does, but when you turn around, he has an arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly, and you wonder if you should risk it and leave after all. 

But then, Benny wraps an arm around you, much gentler this time. “Good night,” he says softly, and he’s out. 

You’re actually grateful Benny doesn’t seem to be aware of aftercare, because you have no idea what to do, and would have even less of an idea if he stayed awake and wanted to talk about what just happened. 

You’re contemplating whether to stay or go, and when you finally decide, your eyes slip shut, and you cuddle into Benny’s warmth. 

The next morning, you have a proper freak out. 

You need to talk to him, you need to not talk to him. You need caffeine and a pregnancy test and a change of clothes. You need an ice pack and a salt bath because holy fuck you’re sore, Jesus Christ Benny. 

You need Sarah and Erica. 

Luck is on your side today, because as you make your way into school, there’s no sign of Benny. You find who you need chatting at Sarah’s locker, and when Erica sees you, she immediately asks what’s wrong. 

“Oh my god, I don’t even know where to start,” you choke. They blink at you and you start to ramble. “I did something so stupid last night, But it also wasn’t stupid except for the parts that were but ohmygod I need to tell you something. It cannot wait and I am freaking out.” You pause to take a breath. “I think my heart is about to give out.” 

“Okay, okay relax,” Sarah calms you down. “We have 20 minutes before first period. What’s up?” 

“Hold that thought, Sarah, I think she needs to sit down.” You nod, so the girls take you to a more private area, which turns out to be an empty classroom, and as soon as you get there you crumple onto the nearest chair.

“So… what's up?” 

You sit up, your whole body jittering with nerves. You wanna tell them so bad but you don't know how. This is a kind of confession that needs a strong lead to get there, but you’re totally blanking. 

“Well?” 

It burst out of you, “Benny and I slept together!” 

Neither girl moved. They stood there, gaping like fish. You knew they believed you, this isn't something you'd lie or joke about. Oh how you wish you were. 

“How?” Erica finally spoke.

You grimace. “Well, it was kind of an accident at first. We were just watching a movie, then we got really horny at the same time, and it just went from there.”

Sarah’s face twisted at your words. “Were you at least safe?” 

You pinched your lips together and avoided their gaze. 

Sarah groaned and Erica exclaimed, “Are you serious? That was so stupid!”

“I told you I did something stupid! I wasn’t really thinking about protection in the heat of the moment and I seriously doubt Benny had a condom laying around.” You stop then. “Oh my god. I took Benny’s virginity.”

At your words, Sarah and Erica looked at each other. “Ewww!”

“You did what?” a voice shouted from the previously closed door. 

Rory. 

Son of a bitch. 

Erica pulled him into the room and slammed the door shut. You’ve never been more thankful for her as she began to threaten Rory within an inch of his undead life. You expected him to wet himself, but Rory’s face was calm, and not the kind of blankness you’re accustomed to seeing on his expression.

He huffed. “No wonder Benny was being so weird this morning. I thought losing your virginity was supposed to change a guy in a good way. His face looked exactly like the time I accidentally dropped him in a dumpster.”

That… did not do anything good for your ego. 

“He hates me,” you pout. 

“I don't know about that,” Rory shrugs. “He asked if I saw you and told me to tell him if I did. Oh, well now that I’ve seen you, I should probably go tell him.” Rory started to walk away, but the three of you shouted after him and dragged him back. 

“Okay, jeez. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Erica facepalmed and Sarah scoffed. “The big deal is that two close friends slept with each other. That’s not a thing friends do! It’s probably awkward for them!”

You sigh. “Guys, it’s more than awkward. We didn’t even talk about it. I left before he woke up.”

Erica gasps, “You did not.” Sarah and Rory both wince, and again, this did not make you feel better. 

“What was I supposed to say! It happened so suddenly—we didn’t even kiss!” 

The three of them pause and gawk at you. You threw your hands up in surrender. 

“It just didn’t happen. We were kinda focused on other things.” You were pulled back to the memory, his lips and hands everywhere, his whiny little mewls and pants hot and breathy in your ear… 

“Oh my god. She’s thinking about him right now, ewww!” Erica squealed.

“Wait, was Benny actually good?” Sarah asked in disbelief. 

You sigh dreamily, “Let's just say, if he wasn't already a spellcaster, he'd still have magic in his fingers.”

“EWWW!” Three voices cried in unison. Rory gagged and Erica covered her ears. Sarah closed her eyes, her worn expression letting you know she very much regretted asking at all. All three looked rather like a steak to the heart would be a perfect end to this conversation. 

The end, however, came in the form of the warning bell. Before leaving you swore all of them to secrecy, with an emphasis on Rory’s discretion. He gave you a thumbs up and said “You can count on me!” You were not confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut. 

Classes went on, but you were on edge in fourth period, the first class of three you and Benny shared, not including lunch. You got there early, as usual, and Benny came in second before the bell, also as usual. You didn’t dare look up at him when he walked by you, knowing it was him by his clumsy footsteps and the scent of his cologne. He sat behind you, and you felt the weight of his stare on you the entire class period. When the bell finally rang you were first out the door. 

Your whole group usually sits together at lunch, unless the dorks had a mathlete meeting or Erica decided to sit with her boytoy of the week, which happens more often than not. She promised to sit with you and Sarah today just in case a buffer (or a badass vampire) was needed. 

Rory is the first of the boys to sit down and starts yammering about his day. Apparently the stray cat he feeds in the junkyard went missing and it’s been days since he saw it and he’s getting worried. He was in the middle of the “epic” tale of their friendship and why they don’t try to eat each other anymore when Benny sits down. Right in front of you. Where he always does. Very normal, but you can’t ignore the shaking feeling that no, everything is decidedly not normal. 

Unfortunately for all of you, Rory trails off. 

The table is silent for a long, long while.

You want to say something so bad, you hate this awkward tension between the two of you, but you can’t speak. It’s like your voice was stolen by teenage embarrassment. 

You have enough strength of mind to meet Benny’s eyes, only you’re unable to read him. Is he disgusted? Regretful? If so, of what specifically? Is your friendship completely over? He just looks and looks. 

Just as a headache began to form between your eyes, Ethan barrelled into his seat in an anxious flurry. You’ve never been happier to hear the words: “Guys, I think we have a problem.” 

Your focus is 100% on Ethan now, you don’t even notice the pinch of Benny’s brows at his best friend's words, or the way his fingers twitch for his spellbook, or the way he licks his lips like he always does when he concentrates. 

It’s Benny, of course you can’t help but notice. 

Except, something Ethan just said actually pulled your focus. “Wait, you said you saw strange markings in your vision. Was there anything concrete? It sounds like whoever drew them and left the animal hearts and talismans were attempting a ritual.”

Ethan nods. “There were pentagrams all over my vision, and there was a flash of goat hooves and a clock.”

“A clock?” Benny asks. 

“Yes,” he confirms. “The hands were set to midnight.” 

“The witching hour,” you and Benny speak in unison. You snuck a peek at him, almost startling when you see he did the same. You dart your eyes away, and a sinking feeling hits you as you realize what Ethan’s vision most likely meant.

“Rory,“ you start slowly, “what color is your junkyard cat?”

Your friends tense as you say this, also connecting the dots. Rory, bless him, remains oblivious. 

“He has black fur! That's why I named him Shadow Ninja! I hope the little guy is okay…” Rory digs into his sandwich, and you don’t know if he’s being willfully ignorant to spare his own feelings, or if he genuinely knows nothing about superstitions. The group glances at each other, all silently agreeing to keep Rory in the dark. 

“We need to find out who’s behind these rituals. It’s one thing if they’re idiotic humans, but another if they’re witches,” Sarah comments. 

“What do they even want?” Erica asks. “What are the rituals for?”

“Well, if Ethan’s visions and the ritual’s remnants are anything to go by,” you muse darkly, “I’d guess they’re trying to summon the Devil.”

Benny hums. “Making a deal with the Devil is not good, Grandma says that all time. We need to find out for sure where the rituals took place.”

He begins to flip through his spellbook when Ethan asks why the location matters. 

Then, it hits you. “Ley lines.”

“Exactly,” Benny confirms, but he doesn’t look at you. “If they’re doing the rituals on the ley line, it’ll be easier to find out where they’ll go next.”

Sarah puts a hand on your arm. “Hold on, what are ley lines?”

“They’re invisible, mystical energy lines that run underneath the earth. They connect various historical sites, prominent landmarks, and sacred spaces to conduct the energy. They’re said to amplify the supernatural, so it makes sense if there’s one running through Whitechapel.”

“There is,” Benny says. He flips the book around and shows everyone the page he found. It details the line running through your province of Canada, but there isn’t anything you recognize. The map isn’t updated for the 21st Century, apparently. 

You make plans after school to go ley line hunting, deciding to split into three pairs to cover more ground, one vampire and one human in each. Out of everyone, you have the most success at keeping Rory on task, so you’re partnered with him. His protective side comes out most often with you, being the only fully fledged human of the group, no vamp, seer, or spellcaster powers in sight. 

You can fend for yourself of course, though you find fighting magic with magic more often than not solves the problem. It’s no bother to you when you have brains. You help Ethan make the plans and connect the dots, you don’t need to execute them. 

Admittedly, the idea of summoning the Devil scares the shit out of you, it also helps take your mind off of the Benny issue you’re facing. 

You and Rory have been searching for an hour and a half (with you only needing to pull Rory back on task three times) when you realize the section of the map took you to a familiar house in the rich part of town. 

“Rory,” you get his attention. “Isn’t this Jesse’s mansion?” He, briefly serving time in Jesse’s cult, frequented this house more often than that one time you paid an unwanted visit, would know for sure. 

“Oh hey. Yeah, it is.”

The mansion looks different than the last time you saw it. After Jesse’s imprisonment in the cubile animus, the place remained abandoned; and no one, not even the HOA, dared to mess with what he left behind. 

The lawn was overgrown, leaves and vines creeping up and curling around the corners and windows. The siding was darkened with dirt and grime, and some of the shillings had fallen off, leaving a gaping spot where it once lay. 

“Does the magic line go through the house?” Rory questions.

According to the map, it did, but you had a feeling it wasn’t this easy. 

“We need to get in and check it out. Something doesn’t feel right.” 

Rory walks up to the gate and pushes it open, the hinges squeaking and built up rust grinding as it opens. The two of you approach the former vampire den cautiously, the brick driveway filled with green in its cracks and all kinds of foliage strewn over the walkway left by wind and storms. 

Once inside the house, you shudder. It might've been abandoned, but the air felt dark and tainted still. 

“Hey,” Rory called from where he ventured further in, “I’m not sure this place is as abandoned as we think.” 

He’s right. In the corner of the living room, messy sleeping bags and junk food wrappers littered the entire space. There were school bags tossed haphazardly on a table, and books on every available space possible. 

You made your way to the kitchen area, where there was more discarded food, spilled liquid, and even more books. On the dining table, dried blood, a variety of talismans, melted candles, and ashes lay within a pentagram.

You made your way to the island, which was clear of everything except one book in the center.

Rory came up next to you and pointed. “I know this book. It has Jesse’s prophecy in it.”

You skimmed the book, and Rory stopped you on the page about the prophecy. You scanned the page, and when you saw a familiar line, you read it aloud: “The dead take root, the barren orchard bears the devil's fruit.’” You pause. “Rory, check the map. I think the ley line runs under Ethan’s house, specifically the tree in his backyard. They tried the ritual here, and it didn’t work. The other failed rituals happened at the church, the cemetery, and the stump of Whitechapel’s oldest tree. If they found this book, it won’t take them long to figure out their next spot, and I think it might actually work this time around. I mean, symbolically, it seems like the place to catch the Devil's attention.”

Rory’s eyes widened. “Woah. This is getting kinda scary.”

“I agree, we should get out of here before they get back.”

You start toward the door, but Rory stops you. His face twists regretfully as he responds, “Too late. I can hear them outside.”

His words make your blood run cold, and you hear the creak of the front door opening. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you and Rory squeeze inside the empty walk-in pantry. You’re easing the door shut as the kitchen door slams open. 

“I’m telling you, that geek is onto us. He’s a seer, right? I bumped into him before lunch and I swear he saw something,” a husky, feminine voice said. Through the panes on the door, you can make out a silhouette of her, but nothing too clear. 

A hand slaps the counter. “Why does it matter?” Deep, male, and insanely grating. You can see his hulking frame lean on the island. “He might be shacking up with vampires, but they’re not invincible. They can’t stop us no matter what they know.”

Behind you, Rory murmurs, “I know them from somewhere.”

The first one sighs, apparently not hearing a peep even from a few feet away. “I guess, but his friends are vampires. The small one, Sarah, babysits him on Friday’s right?”

“Yup. But, with some garlic and a sharp wooden steak, it shouldn’t be too hard to negotiate for that virgin’s blood. And he doesn’t even need to die!”

“That we know of. The instructions say the blood of a virgin, who’s to say that doesn’t mean the life of one? The 17th century assholes who wrote it down weren’t very specific with the recipe.”

“And the awful fucking poetry. I could’ve done without that,” the guy scoffs. 

“Whatever,” the girl snaps. “We will do it tomorrow night after his parents leave. We get what we want and hey, maybe once the Devil himself turns us into vampires, we’ll kill the virgin anyway. I hear they taste the best.”

The two cackle, and their voices dim as they clomp away. 

You and Rory tip toe out of the pantry, keeping an eye on the door as you walk. The thing is, you’re not completely aware of your surroundings. In a stroke of bad luck, you trip on a stack of books, and they clutter noisily to the ground. 

You meet Rory’s eyes, horrified. 

“Who’s there?” the guy shouts. You hear the stomp of their boots getting closer, and Rory tugs you away to the other door and up the stairs. You follow him like you’re on autopilot, everything you heard and what’s happened catching up to you at the wrong time. 

You’re being pulled up another set of stairs and Rory kicks the bedroom door open. 

“This one has a balcony. Gord pushed me off it when I was learning how to fly.”

“What a dick,” you mutter and suddenly you’re gasping in the cool outside air. 

Rory grabs onto you right as the door flies open, the two satanists rushing forward. Not a second too soon, Rory takes off. 

A few minutes and half a heart attack later, you land on the designated meeting point, which was, of course, Ethan’s front porch. Everyone was there already, and you felt comfortable enough to have a panic attack. 

You’re still gasping and your legs give out on you. You’re caught by familiar arms, and Benny lowers you down to the porch chair.

“We—we found—the book. The lines—the tree, it just. They’re going to attack you! Take your, your blood. They wanna turn. They need him to turn.”

You’re not making a lick of sense to anyone, and Sarah starts to rub your back. 

“Breathe,” she says softly. She doesn't have the compulsion ability mastered, but you want to listen to her, so you do. 

“You found something? What happened?” Ethan asks. 

“Dude,” Benny chastises. “Maybe wait til she stops freaking out? Rory, what’s going on?”

Rory explains your findings as best he can, and you use the lilt of his voice to calm down. “The guy and the girl look so familiar. I can’t place it, though.”

With a huff, Erica reminds him, “They go to our school, genius, obviously they’ll be familiar.”

Rory starts to protest, “Yeah but, that’s not where I recognize them from.”

“Vampires,” you finally say. Everyone stops and stares at you. “The deal they want to make with the Devil is to become vampires. Why would they go to all this trouble when this town is crawling with them? I think it’s because they literally can’t. Vampires won’t turn them.” You twist your body to face Sarah and Erica. “Does the Council have some kind of banned humans list? Like, “Do not turn these people under the penalty of death” list?”

Sarah hums and furrows her brows together in thought. “I’m sure they do, I’ll go check,” and she vamp speeds away. 

“It’s the only reason I can think of. Anyone else have a theory?”

You look up from your place on the chair, and everyone (again) is staring. 

“That,” Benny declares, “was incredible.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time since last night, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… normal. Right. 

You smile at him shyly, and think yeah, you’ll be alright. 

A nudge to your side has your attention on Erica. Apparently she caught that little exchange. She quirks a playful eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders innocently. 

After that, it doesn't take too long for Sarah to return in a whoosh of air. “They do have a list! And it comes with pictures. Here,” she hands everyone a stack. Thankfully, it’s not too big. It only takes a few seconds before Rory spots them. 

Ethan nods. “Yup. I ran into her this morning and that’s when I got the vision. She didn’t seem too pleased with me.”

Now that you have all the pieces, you plan. 

A pizza is ordered and you all gather around Ethan’s dining table.

“These people know way too much about us, so what if we give them more?” Ethan suggests. 

You hum in agreement. You reach for a slice, and your hand brushes Benny’s. You lock eyes over the table, and he’s flushing that sweet red again. He retracts his hand, and you grin to yourself as you take the slice. 

“Like what?” Erica asks. 

“They think the ball is in their corner, right?” you explain. “So what if we change it up? Make them comfortable, make it even more easy for their plan to unfold, but what they don’t know is that we’re doing the same thing, only better.”

“Okay,” Rory remarks, voice laced with confusion. “What do we do?”

You and Ethan share a near manic smirk. 

“We’re gonna set a trap. Tomorrow, I will very loudly say in front of them that I’m Jane’s babysitter tonight instead of Sarah. That gets rid of one vampire, they think ambushing us will be a walk in the park if it’s me.” 

“Tomorrow night, you three,” Ethan informs Sarah, Erica, and Rory, “will be waiting in the shadows, ready to attack when necessary.” 

You take a deep breath. “Benny, you need to be with us.” 

Ethan startles. “What, why?”

You ignore him. 

“Benny, do you trust me?”

Instantly, he says yes. 

“Good,” you breathe. “You need to be the sacrifice.” 

Ethan protests immediately, and the others look at you like you’ve grown a second head. 

“Um, they need a virgin for the ritual, right?” Erica speaks up, deliberately slow as if you somehow forgot you were the one to change Benny’s virginal status. 

“Yes,” you confirm, and as subtly as you can, you explain. “They need a virgin to complete the ritual.”

You can see the moment it clicks for Sarah and Erica; unfortunately, Rory is more vocal with his understanding. 

“Ohhh, is it because Benny—YEOUCH!” He yells as Erica elbows him particularly hard in the side. 

Ethan’s eyes dart between all of you. “Uh, okay. Whatever. As long as it isn’t Jane, I don’t care who gives up their blood.”

The next day at school, you get the wannabe vampires hook, line, and sinker when you bring up your status as tonight's babysitter right in front of them. Unbeknownst to them, Jane is going to be safe next door with Benny’s grandma the second their parents leave for date night.

It takes a few hours for the “ambush” to happen, just minutes before midnight. You have fun pretending to act scared and whine when they tie you up, though you could’ve gone without the grass stains as the burly guy tossed you next to the tree. 

They make quick work of setting up the ritual, and hey, there's Shadow Ninja! Anger flares in you at the sight of Rory's friend tied up and muzzled like that.

When it’s all set up, they mix together what looks like the world’s most disgusting cocktail in a gold chalice. 

“Now,” the girl announces as the two stalk up to you, Benny, and Ethan. “Who will it be?” 

“We were gonna do mega geek over there,” the guy said, nodding toward Ethan, but then he points to you. “But what about her?” he asks his friend. 

The girl, the absolute bitch, throws her head back and laughs. “Her? Are you kidding? She’s a slut, no way am I drinking her blood. We need a virgin, not some high school whore, remember?” 

Your mouth drops open, “Well fuck you too! At least I got hot while I was still in high school. You wanna be eternally 17? I feel sorry you need a do-over when some of us got it the first time around.” That might not have been the best response, you think as she backhands you across the face, but it felt damn good to say. 

“Leave her alone,” Benny growls, eyes flaring, and wow, that’s hot. “Do not talk about her like that, I swear to god.”

The guy taunts Benny. “Oooh I think lover boy here just offered himself up! Gimme your arm, nerd.”

They aren’t gentle as they take Benny’s blood. You send them death glares every time he winces and hope this ridiculous ordeal is over soon.

You watch as they mix the blood into the chalice. They chant in terrible latin, and finally, they drink, draining the cup dry.

The air is still as you wait for a long moment.

Suddenly, they’re both doubled over in pain, clutching all over their bodies and heads, screaming so forcefully the veins in their forehead pop out. 

“We’re sorry!” the girl shrieks. “We don’t know what happened!”

The guy falls to his knees. “We didn’t mean to insult you—we did everything right, we promise!” 

“What do you mean,” the girl wails, and she spits up black. You realized then that someone must be talking to them in their heads. Him, possibly? 

The guy is shaking on the ground; he has the same black liquid spilling out of his mouth, and you know then that it’s blood. His eyes lock on Benny, and he began to crawl toward him.

“You!” is all he can gurgle out before he disappears in an ashy poof. The girl gives an ear shattering shrill, and a second later, she’s gone too. 

Sarah, Erica, and Rory emerge from their hiding place, instantly moving to free the rest of you from your bonds. 

“What just happened?” Ethan sputters. He didn’t expect that. What the fuck. 

“They messed up the ritual,” you smile. 

Ethan frowns. “Really? I don't see how.” 

Rory laughs and puts an arm around Ethan’s shoulder. 

“It’s because Benny took a trip to Bonetown,” he snickers, and you punch him in the shoulder as hard as you can. 

Rory makes an offended face at you. “Ouch! What was that for? I was just answering Ethan’s question.”

“Rory,”  You speak calmly, eyes closed. “Shut. Up.”

“What! We should all be thanking you! I mean, if it wasn’t for you, they totally would’ve summoned the Devil. Unless they chose Ethan instead but—”

“Rory, look! There's Shadow Ninja!”

The blond vampire squeals and tears off toward the tree, freeing his very much alive, but incredibly pissed off, feline friend. 

Only, the damage is done. 

You seek out Sarah and Erica, but they just shrug and chuckle awkwardly at you before vamping away. Rory, once he comes back with the squirming cat in his arms, senses the sudden tension he unwittingly created, and after a few seconds of deliberation decides the smartest move is to do the same. Jerks, all of them. 

You really, really wish Ethan wasn’t as clever as he is. You know the instant the explanation dawns on him. His mouth drops wide open and he points to Benny, who gives him an awkward smile. Then Ethan points the accusatory finger at you, and all you can do is pinch your lips together and watch him freak out.

“You—but how—why didn't you say—but that means—you exploded them with sex?”

He shakes his head and spins around, walking away to fetch Jane and muttering to himself like mad. Poor guy.

You and Benny are the only ones left of your ragtag group still lingering, so you walk to his house, and when you reach the steps, you can’t take it anymore. You blurt:

“We didn’t even kiss.” Benny stares at his shoes and bites the inside of his cheek. “We didn’t, so I didn’t know if you actually liked me or not. It was good, it was so fucking good. I should've stayed. I wasn’t thinking when I left the other day. I hate the morning after talk but you deserved so much better than what I gave you. I’m sorry. I like you Benny, I really do and I want to make this work.” You keep rambling, just saying what comes to mind and you’re still rambling when Benny cups your face in both his hands and pulls you into a blessedly mind numbing kiss. 

It’s everything you ever wanted. It's soft and sweet, yet firm and demanding, just like Benny. Your mouths move together skillfully, slotting together like they were made for it, and you’d like nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe any longer. 

He pulls back slightly, lingering in your space, breathing in your air. 

“If I invite you in, will you stay this time?” 

You don't have to think. 

“Yes.” 

[harrywavycurly]

Glitch: What Do You Mean?

Masterlist: Here

CW: Jealous Harry, manipulation (thanks Jeff), language, emotional immaturity (you were literally turned on less than three weeks ago so things are new for you), and some dramatic moments that could be called “causing a scene”.

A/N: It’s truly just so fun to write an unhinged Harry so I hope you enjoy and also I don’t think Shawn is anything like this it’s just for funsies. Enjoy the absolute drama that is this chapter.💓

Tag List: @alicivava @cosmicneptune @daphnesutton @valeriiyuhh @drewrry @obsessiveenthusiast @me-undiscovered @psicostyles @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @harryscherries28 @blckburd @harry2121 @cevans-winchester @prettygurl-2009 @maudie-duan @sassamanda77 @triski73 @mema10

Summary: When Harry sees you with someone else you have a hard time understanding why it makes him act the way he does💓

Harry hates going to events that require him to dress up and mingle with people he doesn’t know, it’s one of the major downsides to fame and it’s a giant reason why he’s enjoyed his time off for so long. Because in his mind, the music industry really doesn’t want anything to do with you if you don’t have anything to offer. So keeping out of the studio and having a life away from writing lyrics and chasing the melodies that are stuck in between passing thoughts in his head have done him a massive favor, it’s kept him out of the spotlight and off guest lists for parties such as the one he’s currently in the middle of. But famous or not Harry has always been one to rise to the occasion for important events in order to support the people he holds near and dear to him so of course when he got invited to a charity gala for a cause close to the heart of one of his bestfriends he was quick to RSVP, notably without checking the box for a plus one.

He is on his second leisurely lap around the event space, a massive ballroom of some upscale hotel that he can’t be bothered to remember the name of, when he thinks he sees someone he knows out of the corner of his eye. It’s the skirt of a gown that catches his attention, not being able to see anything else other than a few bright pink and orange flowers embroidered on a sheer white fabric before it disappears in the crowd. But a sense of something begins to stir deep down inside his chest, like he knows there’s only one person in the world that would be wearing a floral gown in a sea of stark black and the occasional red dresses but the odds of it being who he thinks are slim and while the universe may be on his side most of the time and he has been fortunate to be on the receiving end of its luck he knows tonight the luck of the universe has all but abandoned him. Because he gets a feeling that’s similar to a shiver that goes down his spine as he turns around at just the right moment and sees something that makes his blood turn to ice in his veins and his jaw to clench.

You’re standing there in a white floor length gown with a sheer lace overlay that has brightly embroidered flowers all over the skirt leaving the top half mostly white with the delicate lace creating a slightly more modest neckline and while Harry thinks you might actually be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen that’s not what draws his attention. It’s the person that’s standing next to you that earns his narrow eyed glare, the person with a hand on your waist as they stare down at you with a smile Harry knows is a playful smirk that clearly followed something cheekily said based on how your face has a faint blush to it and you bring your hand that’s not gripping the flute of champagne up to your face in an attempt to try and hide your embarrassment.

Normally Harry would just brush off the fact you’re here with someone, not caring at all what brought the two of you together let alone to a random charity event thrown by one of his close friends. Especially since Harry is trying to convince himself he doesn’t know you well enough to be bothered by any of that, considering he’s not sure if you’d even call him a friend at this point. But it’s who you’re with that changes everything for him, making him unable to just move on and go about his evening as if he never saw you because you’re with him.

Shawn fucking Mendes.

The one man he can’t stand for reasons even unknown to him, the man he swears does things just to get a rise out of him, the one person he has to actively hold himself back from smacking the silly little smile off his pretty little face, the man you just so happen to be giggling at as you place your hand on his arm. Honestly, of all the arms for you to be holding onto as you laugh at a joke Harry is sure isn’t even very funny and if it is then it’s one he stole from someone far more entertaining, of course it had to be Shawn’s.

It just further proves the feeling of the universe turning it’s back on Harry as he watches the two of laugh and whisper little things in each other’s ears as if you’ve known one another for years and suddenly Harry begins to wonder if maybe you have and that’s why he hasn’t ever seen you until recently. Because Jeff knows his distaste for the Canadian singer so it makes sense that he’d keep you tucked away in his contact list until he knew your entanglement or whatever it is that’s going on with you and Shawn was done with, but clearly Jeff made a mistake because by the looks of it your relationship with Shawn is anything but over.

If Harry was being honest with himself he’d admit how truly creepy he’s being as he watches you and Shawn from a relatively safe distance, but still close enough to hear your laugh filtering through the sounds of glasses clinking and muffled small talk between the other guests. Somehow the two of you have managed to be in the center of the room, near the bar and Harry finds himself slowly circling you as if you’re the center of his universe and he’s simply keeping himself in the comfort of your orbit. After a few laps that have him stopping for a few pointless conversations about things he has no interest in he gives up on trying to remain out of sight. And when he sees Shawn’s hand slide to your lower back as he helps you maneuver your way through the crowd Harry decides now is as good a time as ever to go a give you and your poor choice of a plus one a proper hello.

He gives a few people polite nods and tight lipped smiles as he makes his way towards you and it’s almost like you could sense he was near, a measly arms length away when you turn around and smile at him. It’s a smile that makes your eyes seem brighter as they get little crinkle in the corners and to top it off you raise your hand and wave at him. It almost knocks Harry off kilter for a moment having not expected such a warm greeting seeing as he’s the one who stormed off the last time he saw you in Jeff’s living room not even two days ago.

“There you are.” Your voice is like a soft melody he wants to put into a song that’s just for him and no one else so he can get lost in it while he listens to it over and over. “I was wondering when you’d come say hello.” Your words have a slight heat rising to Harry’s cheeks as he closes the small gap between the two of you so he’s now standing directly in front of you.

“Yeah Styles we saw you circling us like a shark in the water waiting for his time to strike.” Shawn’s voice makes Harry’s jaw tick as he slowly removes his gaze from yours so he can look at the tall annoying man to your left.

“Don’t flatter yourself Shawn I’d never waste my time on a little guppy like you.”

“You sure? I hear wasting time is all you like to do nowadays.”

“Hear about that while off not touring and just galavanting around in jungles and beaches huh?”

“Just shows how far and wide word travels when it’s about how boring Harry Styles has become.”

“Or it just shows how obsessed you are with me that you even manage to gossip about me while off trying to find yourself.” Harry doesn’t mean to go tit for tat with Shawn but he can’t seem to help himself, it brings a sick kind of joy to Harry knowing he can get a rise out of the normally very docile and charming young man. He ignores the glare the brown eyed boy is giving him as a slow smirk works its way onto his face as he raises an eyebrow at him. “How’s that going by the way? Figure out the meaning of life yet?” What Harry isn’t prepared for is how easily Shawn is able to brush off all the sarcasm that’s dripping from every word that leaves his mouth like rain dripping off the edge of an umbrella, as if it’s no concern to him because right now he has the upper hand seeing as you’re by his side and not Harry’s.

“You know,” Shawn’s arm loosely drapes over your shoulder as he begins to answer the question all while Harry watches, a look of disapproval etched on his face when Shawn looks down at you with one of his annoyingly perfect smiles. “I might have.” It’s the horrible attempt at a subtle wink he shoots you that has Harry seeing red, immediately knowing what the man is trying to imply while it’s clear by the look of slight confusion on your face that you have no clue what’s happening and what this conversation the two men are having is actually about.

“How have you been?” Shawn holds back a laugh as you try to dive into the conversation having no clue about the tension you just cut through making Harry’s attention fall back onto you. “I’m sorry for the other day I-I really didn’t mean-”

“You don’t have to apologize for speaking your mind.” Harry says quickly before you can divulge any details of what the two of you spoke about while in the presence of a man he can’t stand.

“Oh did the two of you have a little disagreement?” You just shake your head as Shawn’s hand rubs the top of your arm as if he’s trying to comfort you but Harry didn’t miss the slight flinch when his thumb makes contact with your skin, letting him know you aren’t exactly comfortable.

“No not a disagreement it-”

“None of your fucking business is what it is.” As soon as the words leave Harry’s mouth he knows Shawn has somehow managed to win this round of whatever game the two of them are playing. Because the harshness of his tone and the loudness of his voice makes you jump ever so slightly letting Shawn swoop in as some sort of protector as he subtly uses the arm that’s still draped over your shoulder to pull you closer into his side.

“Come on love let’s go take a walk and let Harry here get some air so he can maybe calm down a little.” Shawn says while looking down at you with a smile that Harry can see right through, he knows it’s not genuine he knows this is all an act to make him look like he’s the caring one but Harry knows him better than you do so he knows it’s just a ploy to get you to trust him and do what he wants.

“Oh uhm okay.” Your voice is low as you look over at Harry who is staring daggers at Shawn’s hand as he watches as it slowly travels from the top of your arm down to your lower back as he turns you towards an opening in the crowded space that the two of you can escape through.

“Nice seeing you Harry.” It’s not until you’re saying bye to him that Harry realizes just how much of a mess he’s made of this whole thing, how he let someone as unimportant as Shawn get in the way of the reason he even approached you in the first place, to talk to you and apologize for his behavior. But you’re swept away and once again lost in the sea of people before he can even attempt to say anything so he’s left standing there with words left unsaid and an unfamiliar hurt in his chest.

You look back over your shoulder in hopes to catch one last glimpse of Harry but it’s too late, his figure is already hidden by a small group of people heading to the bar to refill their drinks. You feel Shawn put a little more pressure on your lower back as he guides you to a secluded section of the party near the railing of the staircase the two of you had to walk down upon entering the event. When you look over at him he has his eye focused on what’s in front of him you take the time to get a better look at him, trusting that he won’t let you fall or have you bump into someone.

Now you’re well aware that Shawn is an attractive looking man, his jawline is impeccable and his smile makes your tummy flutter but something about him seems off and you can’t quite figure it out. All you know is that while he is nice to look at and is a decent conversationalist, you feel a tiny bit uneasy when he touches you like it feels wrong somehow, as if the hands you’re meant to be feeling on your arm and your cheek when he brushes some hair out of your face aren’t his but someone else’s.

You’re good at hiding your feelings because you don’t want to come across as rude considering he’s the one who invited you as his plus one to this charity event so you don’t want to ruin his night out. Especially since this is your first time meeting him in person having only shared a few phone calls over the last two days when he called to introduce himself to you and told you how Jeff was the one who mentioned your name to him and you trust Jeff, so you agreed to being his plus one and when he made you laugh at a silly joke you felt like maybe spending an evening with him wouldn’t be so bad. But that changed the moment you noticed a very familiar pair of emerald green eyes that seemed to be glued on you as you made your way around the event space, and by the way Shawn’s hand seemed to grip your waist even tighten you could tell you weren’t the only one who noticed the two of you were being watched.

“How do you know Harry?” The question makes your brows pinch together as you try to come up with a response that doesn’t seem too vague because honestly Harry is one of those people much like Jeff that you feel like you’ve just known forever. So you just go with the answer that isn’t a lie but also doesn’t feel like the exact truth.

“Through Jeff.” Shawn just nods as he leans an arm on the railing and looks towards you but you can tell he’s looking through you and scanning the crowd for any signs of the tall British man in question. “We uhm met at a party a couple weeks ago.”

“Must’ve been some party because he’s clearly got a crush on you.”

“Who?”

“You’re cute when you’re clueless.” Shawn says with a light chuckle as you look at him with a confused expression on your face because you really don’t know who he could possibly think has a crush on you. “You really don’t see it? The man is acting like a jealous-”

“Jealous?” You quirk a brow as the word leaves your mouth, having no idea what it really means and why it would be something you could see or a way someone can act. “I don’t know what you mean by that.” You explain making Shawn look at you in a way that makes you feel as if he doesn’t believe you.

“Harry is jealous.” He states plainly making you tilt your head as you try to figure out what that statement really means. “That’s why he’s acting the way he is and being-pardon my language but an asshole.”

“I just don’t think he likes you very much that’s all.” The laugh that leaves Shawn’s mouth as you shrug while giving him your response makes your eyes widen in concern because it’s a laugh that is more mocking than it is joyful.

“You’re not wrong but he also very obviously has a crush on you and that’s why he’s being extra-”

“A crush? On me? No-no way you’ve got it-”

“I don’t blame him.” You look down at your wrist as Shawn’s hand reaches out and gently wraps around it making the uneasy feeling begin to bubble up in your chest. “You’re stunning.” His eyes roam over your face before meeting your eyes.

“Tha-thank you.” You fumble with your words as the grip on your champagne flute tightens. “I uhm think I’m going to go get another drink.” You lift up your nearly empty glass making Shawn just give you a soft smile as he drops his hand from your wrist.

“Do you need me-”

“I’ll be fine thank you though.” Your words are rushed as you take a step away from him and towards the crowded bar area, when he doesn’t argue and just lets you walk away you let out a sigh of relief finally feeling as if you can breathe normally again the more distance you put between the two of you.

“One whiskey. Neat please.” Harry’s voice brings a smile to your face the moment you hear it, a deep and smooth sound that makes your heart do a weird sort of flip in your chest. When he turns to lean against the bar as he waits for his drink your eyes find his and all of a sudden he’s standing up straight and walking towards you as if on autopilot, moving through the crowd until he’s standing right in front of you.

“You forgot-” The rest of your sentence gets caught in your throat when Harry places a hand on the side of your face and before you can even blink has his lips on yours in a kiss that makes your whole body feel relaxed and at ease as if it’s finally figured out exactly whose hands are meant to be the ones touching you.

“I’m sorry.” His words are mumbled against your lips as his other hand comes up to cup the other side of your face. “I’m sorry for how I acted at Jeff’s and how I acted tonight I-I just got-”

“Jealous?” You ask as he pulls away just enough so he can look you in your eyes. The small twitch to the corner of his lips makes you aware that he is fighting back one of his signature smirks that makes a weird fuzzy sensation take over your mind.

“Yes.” He admits as he leans his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me but I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else but-but I especially can’t stand him getting to be the one who’s arm your on and-”

You don’t hear the rest of his explanation, your mind too busy trying to piece together the little bits of information you’ve gotten throughout the night. It’s all a jumbled mess inside your head making you almost feel like your mind is stuck in a fog as you stand there with the warmth of Harry’s hands on your cheeks and his thumbs gently running up and down your cheekbones. You close your eyes briefly and when you open them again the fog in your mind begins to lift and you see everything more clearly and it’s got your heart dropping to the bottom of your stomach.

“I get it now.” You get a stinging feeling in the back of your eyes as you take a small step away from Harry making his hands fall from your face, everything begins to click into place in your mind as you replay the whole night over in your head. And when you let out a watery laugh as you come to the conclusion of why Harry suddenly decided to kiss you, it makes his face contort into one of confusion mixed with hurt as his brows scrunch together.

“You get what?”

“Jealousy. I know what it means now.” Your words have Harry instantly reaching out for you but you’re quick to step away before his soft hands can make contact with your skin. “You-you did that because of Shawn because you’re-you’re jealous-”

“No no-well I mean yes I was jealous but-” You don’t give Harry time to finish explaining himself before you turn and start to walk away from him. You place your champagne flute down on the first table you walk by and when you finally get free of the crowd you place a hand over your chest as you try to take deep even breaths.

The feeling that starts to creep its way up from the deepest part of your being is one you’ve never felt before, it’s all consuming and has you gasping for air as if your lungs are being constricted and your eyes are doing that annoying thing where they just let rivers of tears pour out of them no matter how hard or often you try to blink them away. It’s as if you can feel a piece of your heart actually break and fall off, landing in the lowest part of your chest. The hurt you feel from it nearly brings you to your knees but before you end up on the floor you feel an arm around your middle holding you up.

“Come on.” When you look over you see Jeff giving you a smile, even through the tears you can tell it’s sad like he feels bad for you in this moment and wants to help you. “I have a car out front that will take you home.”

“He kissed me.” You mumble making Jeff just nod as he helps you up the steps. “But-but only because of Shawn.”

“I’m sure that’s not-”

“Please don’t leave.” You and Jeff stop your slow climb up the stairs at the sound of Harry’s voice coming from behind. “Please just let me explain.” Jeff turns to look over his shoulder at his bestfriend and the look of panic and what he would also describe as heartbreak on his face almost makes him want to help him but he doesn’t, he does what he thinks is best and gives your waist a little squeeze before he turns his attention back to the steps in front of him and continues helping you up them.

“Not now Harry.” Is all the man says making Harry stop in his tracks only a few steps behind the two of you.

“Don’t leave please just-”

“Leave me alone.” Your voice is what does it for Harry, it’s what sends him rushing up the stairs until he’s standing in front of you forcing you to look at him.

“No.” The word is followed by a glare sent in Jeff’s direction that has him slowly moving his arm from around you and waking up the rest of the stairs alone, letting Harry have his space. “I’m not going to leave you alone until you let me explain what just happened.” His voice is soft with a slight edge to it that has you avoiding his eyes.

“I know what happened. You kissed me because-”

“I kissed you because I wanted to or or-more like I needed to. It had nothing to do with that prick you came here with.” You bring a hand up to wipe at your face as Harry ducks down until you have no choice but to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what’s happening but ever since meeting you I-I can’t think of anything or anyone else besides you and it’s because you-you see me the real me and you see things about me no one else does and I don’t-” He pauses to take let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t see me again until you do.”

“Please don’t-”

“It was nice seeing you again Harry.” You both know you’re lying and just trying to end this whole ordeal on a slightly positive note. “I have to go now.” You tell him as you fight off a new wave of tears, he lets out a sigh of defeat as he moves over a bit on the stairs to let you walk by him.

“I’m sorry.” You hear him whisper when you walk past him and you just rub your lips together to keep them from trembling as you look up to see Jeff standing there sliding his phone into his back pocket with an unreadable expression on his face but when he sees you he gives you a tight lipped smile as he holds his arm out for you to loop yours through.

“Give him some time to sort his shit out and maybe try to talk to him again.” He advises as he leads you out of the building and towards the sidewalk where his driver is waiting for you in a black SUV. “It’s going to be okay.” You just nod as he gives you a hug before opening the door and helping you climb into the backseat.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Jeff just smile at you before he closes the door, once the car is headed down the street he lets out a frustrated groan as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Fuck why can’t I just get one night where things go the way I need them to? Just one fucking night that’s all I need.” He mumbles to himself as he pulls his phone out and scrolls over to the app that lets him control your personality traits deciding that you need to be a little more forgiving if he has any hope of you wanting to see Harry again.

But then he taps on your intelligence letting him have a wider control of what you do and don’t know and he feels his hand grip his phone almost too tight when he sees your knowledge on jealousy and intimate relationships is practically at zero, letting him know exactly why the evening turned out the way it did. Once he’s done fiddling with you he closes the app and slides his phone into his back pocket. He runs a hand over his face before turning around so he can go back inside and do damage control, seeing as not only did one of the world’s biggest stars just kiss a random girl in front of hundreds of people he also got left standing on a staircase on the verge of tears by the same girl. This makes Jeffery swiftly enter manager mode to make sure the no phones policy was strictly in effect and photos or videos of the incident won’t be leaked online, at least not until he wants them to be.

As Jeff walks back into the event he knows exactly where he’ll find Harry, at the bar drying to drown his sorrows in a glass of whiskey. Luckily Jeff also knows that his bestfriend tends to get more emotional when drunk and the more emotional Harry gets the more likely he is to put his feeling down onto paper and if he can get at least a single line of a possible song then tonight won’t go down as a total bust. So instead of cutting him off, Jeff orders another round when he makes it to the bar and stands next to his friend who is leaning over the top of it with his head in hands.

“If you tell me it’ll be okay I will punch you in the face Jeffery I’m not kidding.”

“Actually I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Yeah? Then what were you going to say?”

“I think you should just move on.” He knows those are the last words Harry wants to hear, it’s the words that will have him taking shots and mumbling things about how beautiful you are as the night goes on and by the end of it he will be drunk dialing Mitch to help him figure out which word he should use that rhymes with your name that doesn’t sound too cheesy.

“Fuck you.” Jeff has to bite back his smile as Harry lifts his head and grabs his glass and downs the rest of his drink on one gulp. “You’re an asshole you know that right?” His voice is harsh as he straightens out his suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair before turning and glaring at his friend. “Tell Shawn I said bye will you? Since I know you’re the one who invited him to this.” Jeff feels the color drain from his face as Harry reaches over and places a hand on one of his shoulders, he doesn’t know how Harry knows but clearly he does and stupidly Jeff opens his mouth to try to deny it.

“I didn’t-”

“Save it for someone who’ll believe it.” He gives Jeff’s shoulder a harsh pat before stepping to the side of him. “I’m going to go fix this bullshit your little stunt caused and if you’re smart you’ll tell Shawn to stay the fuck away from her before it’s more than just insults that I toss at him.”

“Okay.” Is all he can manage to say as Harry makes a show of shoving his shoulder into his chest as he walks by.

“Oh and one more thing.” Jeff turns around to face Harry as he lifts a finger in the air while turning around and pointing it directly at him. “Do something like this again and you’re fired.” The way he says it isn’t threatening, no it’s said like a promise that Jeff knows he will keep so all Jeff does is nod and swallow down his nerves as he watches Harry turn on his heal and walk off towards the stairs.

“This is fine.” Jeff says to himself as he turns to grab his drink off the bar. “I can work with this.” He says with a nod as he tries to calm himself down enough so he can try to think of a plan to get this to work in his favor.

After a few minutes and some hearty sips of his drink later he franticly pulls out his phone and sends a text to the man that he just watched walk away from him, sending him your number and address in hopes it will not only begin to help Harry forgive him for this whole thing but also aid him in the process of finding you and working things out, both things Jeff needs in order to reach the end goal of this whole thing. When his phone buzzes in his hand he looks down and sees it’s a text from Harry, a one word reply that while being simple still has Jeff smiling to himself because maybe just maybe tonight won’t be a total waste.

Thanks

[dwaekkicidal]

Curly Hair Routine with Changbin

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Teaching Changbin how to take care of his curls. based off this post/request!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1k (how did i do this.. i thought it was like 500)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: none really :3 just fluff and mentioned that reader has longish, curly hair

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i saw a few moots repost that prompt and i have curly hair (like 3A/3B?) that i've been learning to take care of the last few years so :3 thought this was cyuuute!!! also probably gonna write chris' later today/tomorrow! (my insomnia came back so.. we'll see when it gets done LMFAO)

@chaeryred (also @httpdwaekki cause hehe) i hope you guys like it >< thought it came off a little messy but i still think its pretty cute

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

"YAH! IT'S TOO COLD"

"SIT STILL! I JUST HAVE TO WASH IT OUT-"

"NO!!!! MOM!!! HEEEEEEELP-"

After wrestling your boyfriend like a cat taking a bath, you managed to wash the rest of the conditioner out of his hair and wrap his head up in a towel. You sent him to sit on the floor in the living room while you went to grab all your products from your bedroom. Once you returned, you were met with the biggest pout you've ever seen mixed with the nastiest side eye known to man. His head is almost completely wrapped up in a towel, minus the big circle where part of his face peeks out, and his arms are crossed sassily.

You couldn't help but smile and chuckle, shaking your head as you dropped the products and tools on the couch. You sit directly behind him, putting your legs on either side of his shoulders and leaning him into you. He shivers and your heart pangs a little, but you lean forward and wrap your arms around him and rub them soothingly. A quiet 'hmph!' comes from him and you laugh again.

"I'm sorry, baby. You said you wanted to do my hair routine just like me. And I always end it off with rinsing with cold water." Your fingers sneak into the hole in the towel and pull it back some, exposing his cheeks more as well as some of his wet hair. He makes the angry noise again and throws a small fit, turning away from you and tugging the towel back to its previous position in defiance.

You peck his cheek a few times and combine it with a mumbled apology. Then a small smile forms on his face and you start ruffing the towel, rubbing your hands back and forth and using it to poke fun at him while also starting to dry his hair off. Giggles erupt from the both of you as he drops the tough act and reacts to the ticklish feeling, his distinct giggle ringing through your ears in the best way possible.

Once you both have calmed down, and he's no longer feigning distress, you start to gently dry his hair. "I brought a mirror too." His hair is mostly dry and you grab your brush before realizing that Changbin's eyes have been glued to the show on TV. This was supposed to be a learning experience so you wanted him to watch, but it was also endearing to see him trust you so blindly that he resorts to iPad-baby tendencies.

"Are you gonna watch me do it so you can learn, or was this just an excuse for you to get pampered?" You tease, tilting his head back gently so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles apologetically and reaches for the mirror, "Sorry, Bunny. Got a little distracted hehe. I am your apprentice tonight! Teach away, Jagi." You smile widely and lean down again to place a kiss on his lips. One he reciprocates it before fixing his posture and placing the mirror in position.

He then lowers the television down and sits there patiently, allowing you to take him through the steps and using the mirror to peek at what your hands are doing. You start it off by showing him the products and explaining what they do and then tell him how you're supposed to use them, using a strand of his hair as an example.

Each step doesn't take long, thanks to the fact that he memorized the first few steps of your routine; the brushing and cream application. What you did explain was the styling techniques. He could have just left it as is and not done anything, or he could do what you do and finger-coil each strand.

He had seen how you slaved over your hair for over an hour each time you finger-coiled it and was dreading his experience to be similar to that. But thanks to how short his hair was compared to yours, it was a cakewalk. However, when he tried to coil one strand himself, his fingers did manage to get tangled in each other a few times... but you have to experience something to really learn from it! And the texture of the gel you used seemed to drive him crazy, but he got used to it eventually.

Then it was onto drying! You had brought out the diffuser attachment- or.. what Changbin called the "claws of death," for your hair dryer. He had seen you use it countless times before, but it looked like a jumbled mess of things from the outside and he never knew if there was a technique to it or if it was just random movements.

After teaching him the tips and tricks you used for extra volume and just how to diffuse his hair in general on a small section of his hair, you watched proudly as he dried the rest of his hair on his own with little to no problems. You did a dramatic reveal, wiggling your fingers and adding a "Tada~" when he looked into the mirror for the final time.

He stared for a while, eyes tracing the unfamiliar, defined curls on his head. They were pretty, and you have literally never seen his hair like that before. But what really made it worth it was his reaction. A big smile grew on his face and he turned to you, crawling up the couch to give you a big kiss. "Thank you, Bunny."

"Of course, baby. You look good like this." You smiled and admired your handiwork for a while until you remembered that today was supposed to be your wash day in the first place.

"Okay!! Time for me to wash my hair now." You peck him on the lips and playfully shove him onto the couch, running away after. The pitter-patter of his steps chases after you and he wraps his hands around you once the water is turned back on.

"Wait. I want to do it!" He smiles widely despite the unsure face you make. But he's your Binnie, so it's kind of hard not to cave in. You agree and resume the same position he had earlier, sitting on the tile with your neck resting on the edge and your head hovering over the big bowl of the tub. He steals another kiss before gathering your hair products and directing the water to your head.

"Don't worry, Bunny. I'm a professional at this~"

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha

@bubblerizz

[kathaynesart]

Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?

Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!

Ted Talk below the cut.

Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.

Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.

No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!

Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.

Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.

Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.

Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!

Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.

Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!

[writtenbyan-aries]

Ok so what if y/n just got her period and has been in a bad mood all day cause Sam's not home or something like that and he gets home and they cuddle and watch a movie or something. I don't but love you 💜🩷

Warnings: swearing, talk of period, bad mood, mostly fluff

Word Count: 1004 | Unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You rolled over, reaching out for Sam, but you don’t feel him laying next to you.

You lift your head, letting out a sigh as you remembered today was the day he wasn’t going to be home until later on tonight.

You sat up, freezing as you felt that irritating feeling creep through your body. You made your way to the bathroom and lo and behold, it was day one of shark week.

“That’s just fucking great.” You mumbled to yourself, “Fucking..” you reach forward, grabbing a pad, (or a tampon, whatever suits you best!), “Great.”

You stand up, moving to wash your hands before looking at yourself in the mirror. You brush your finger over a new blemish and let out a whiney groan, “whyyy.”

You make your way back to bed, climbing under the covers and reaching to grab your phone. You look at the text from Sam, Have a good day, babe. I’ll see you later, I love you!

You smile slightly, typing back, Good morning. I hope you have a good day. I love you!

You shifted around and that’s when the cramps kicked in. You let out a groan as your legs slide up, curling into a ball as you squeeze your eyes shut, “God, I haaate being a girl.”

After spending the last hour or so scrolling through TikTok and other apps, you found yourself in the kitchen, looking through the cupboards for something to eat.

Nothing sounded good. Nothing looked good.

You grabbed your phone, sitting at the island as you looked for something to have delivered. After picking a few things, you placed your order and made your way into the living room.

Sam texts you, Did you eat breakfast?

You type back, I have stuff being delivered here soon. I woke up to my period and nothing here looked good, so yes, I’ll eat in a little bit.

You set your phone down, scrolling through options of stuff to watch on the tv.

You settled for a movie you’ve seen a few times, mainly because you know you’ll be on your phone anyway.

You couldn’t get comfortable, you kept moving around trying to find the right spot but couldn’t - and it was pissing you off.

“God.. dammit.” You threw the pillow, huffing as you rested your hand on your forehead.

You wanted Sam, and the fact that he couldn’t come home right now was pissing you off even more.

Speaking of, your phone rings and you smile as you see Sam’s face on the screen, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Sam’s voice rings on the other end, “How are you feeling? Sorry I just got a change to check my phone again.”

“Miserable.” You pull your phone away, seeing the notification that your food has been delivered, “But my food is here, so that’s a plus.”

“What did you get good?”

You tell him what you ordered as you walk over to the door to retrieve it, “But yeah, how’s your day going?”

“It’s.. going, I guess.” He laughs slightly, “We just got done with the shoot for the new merch, next we’re heading to meet with the owner of that school.”

“Sounds fun.” You laugh slightly as you put him on speaker so you can eat, “I hope it goes good. That would be really cool if you could buy it.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.” Sam says, and you can hear Colby in the background, “Hi y/n.”

“Hi, Colby.”

“Alright, babe. We gotta get going. I’ll text you, okay?” Sam states and you nod to yourself, “I’ll be here.” You laugh slightly, “I love you.”

“I love you, get some rest okay. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

Sam hangs up and you lean back on the couch, pouting as you know he won’t be home for another few hours.

After eating, you lay back down on the couch and you end up falling asleep while watching tv, only to be woken up a little bit later by the door opening.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes and you smile as you see Sam, “Hey. What are you doing home?”

He walks over to you, sitting down next to you, “We got out early.”

You smile and tilt your head, “You rescheduled.. didn’t you?”

He nods, “Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t have you here alone being miserable, but..” he leans back and pulls you into him, “The owner of the school had something come up, so it worked out.”

He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head, “You feel any better?”

You nod, letting out a content sigh, “Oh yeah. Most of my mood was you not being here.”

He chuckles and rubs your back, “Yeah, I thought so.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Do you need anything?”

“Nothing but cuddles please.”

“That I can do.” He lays down, pulling you with him and you lay on his body. He pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch and does his best to cover you both up with it.

“Haven’t you watched this movie like a million times?” Sam laughs and you laugh with him, “Maybe, but it was more for background noise.”

“I see, do you want to watch something else, something new?” He reaches forward and grabs the remote and you shrug, “We can, but you can pick.”

“Okay.”

His fingers gently scratch up and down your back as he clicks through, stopping when he finds something he likes, “How’s this?”

“Works for me.” You smile and cuddle up into him more as he sets the remote down, “I’m glad you came home early.”

“Yeah.” He holds you tighter, “Me too.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thanks for reading! I love you all so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: wrapped with a bow

@laurencem told me to write Mulder gift-wrapping Scully as his own birthday gift, and I really had nothing else to do tonight. So this is for you, Yeti! You ask, I ignore the state of my apartment and write fic. (I mean, does it really matter whether I clean the bathroom now or tomorrow morning?) This is just a quick little thing, but writing them being silly is so much fun. tagging @today-in-fic

“Scully?” he says, panting and boneless, “Scully? Come up here.”

She lifts her head where she’s kneeling between his legs and wipes her mouth. “Huh?”

“Come up here.” He waves at her limply, his arms heavy, heart still hammering hard in his chest. Are you ready for your first birthday present of the day? she’d asked, slipping between his legs and sucking him off until he was seeing stars. He’d thought he was ready. But good god, he’s amazed she didn’t transport him straight to the afterlife. In fact, he’s not quite sure that this isn’t the afterlife. And if it is… He squeezes his eyes closed. Holy fucking shit, what a way to go.

She stretches out next to him and he brings up a hand to her face to wipe a last drop of his come from the corner of her mouth. She looks so very pleased with herself and she has every reason. He’ll buy her a trophy. He’ll learn to cross-stitch and make her a little thing to hang up above her side of the bed: Dana Katherine Scully, Birthday Blowjob World Champion.

“So you liked your present?” She grins at him, her lips red and swollen, and he grins back at her.

“I did. I loved it.”

“Good.”

“Better than good.” He puts his arms around her as she rests her head against his shoulder. She cuddles up close to him and if they’d be doing nothing but this for the rest of the day, he would be more than okay with that. But as his heart rate returns to normal and he regains the ability to formulate thoughts beyond ‘Oh dear lord yes’ and ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again,’ he realizes what would make the morning even better. “Hey Scully?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering…”

“What?”

“Is it too late for one more last-minute birthday wish?”

She frowns, propping herself up on one elbow next to him. “That depends entirely on what it is. You know I’ll let you talk me into anything against my better judgment four times out of five, but I’m not going Bigfoot-hunting with you today. The rain’s really coming down out there.”

“Oh, it’s very much an indoor activity,” he promises. “Well, not that it doesn’t work outside. I mean, we have done it outside. And that was pretty fun, actually. But it’s definitely mostly an indoor thing, and I think maybe you could even consider it a gift for both of us, if you think about it. I know you enjoy it too. I was actually planning to give it to you for your birthday in a few months, but that’s the good thing about it, really. It can be gifted over and over, and—”

“Mulder!”

“Yes?”

“You have to—” she starts, and then squeaks as he rolls her over and tackles her to the mattress.

“I’ll even wrap it myself.”

She laughs. “Mulder,” she says again and wiggles underneath him, not really trying to get free. “Mulder, stop it.”

She giggles uncontrollably as he tugs at the bedsheets with one hand and wrestles her underneath. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m usually better at gift wrapping.”

“You’re crazy,” she gasps as he rolls her into a tight blanket burrito so her arms are pinned to her sides. “You’re completely crazy.”

“You love me.”

“I guess there’s not much point in denying that anymore,” she mumbles, face half smushed into the pillow as she’s lying immobilized on her belly, wrapped up nice and tight.

He kneels next to her and tilts his head pensively as he takes in the picture. “Something is missing.”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to blow at a strand of hair that’s clinging to her cheek. “Your sanity.”

“No, that’s not it.” He brushes the offending strand of hair behind her ear, then holds up a finger. “I know. Hold on. Stay just like this and don’t move.”

“Oh, haha, very funny.” She does her best to sound annoyed, but he can see the sparkling in her eyes as he climbs off the bed.

He searches the floor, their clothes in a trail from door to bed where they hastily discarded them last night, and finally picks up his sweater. He jumps back onto the bed, landing on his knees, making her bounce a few inches on the mattress.

“You’re in so much trouble,” she says. “Once I get out of here. So much trouble.”

“It’s my birthday.” He says. “You can’t be mad at me on my birthday.”

She sighs. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

With a triumphant grin, he slides the sweater under her head and ties the sleeves neatly over her forehead. “There.”

“What on earth…?” she asks.

“Every nicely wrapped present needs a bow.”

“You’re not normal, Mulder.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I suppose. Are you going to unwrap me now?”

He runs a hand over the blanket from her shoulder to her thigh. “Hey, no card?” he asks, doing his best to sound upset. “Where’s the card?”

“Mulder, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay.” He leans down for a kiss and feels her smiling into it. “I guess I’m ready for my present.”

“I think your present is ready for you too.”

“Are you saying that because you want me to unwrap you or is there something else you had in mind?”

The look she gives him is the one that makes him do whatever she commands without a second thought. “At this point? There’d better be a ‘something else’ after the unwrapping.”

She’s trying so hard to look angry with him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Oh, as often as you want,” he promises. “I swear. Part-time-Bigfoot-hunter’s honor!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says dryly.

He unrolls her slowly and carefully, and feels actually, seriously, honest-to-god excited. He feels giddy as he finally pulls the covers off her and watches her lying here, glaring up at him. She’s so beautiful he can barely breathe. “Scully?”

“What now?”

“This is a really good birthday so far.”

“I’m sure it could be even better,” she says, and he kisses her. First her lips. Then the rest of her.

As he lowers his head between her thighs and finally gets his mouth on her, he’s already getting hard again—not surprising, he thinks. Nothing is hotter than getting her off. He lets himself drown in the smell and taste of her, and then she gives him his real present as she arches off the mattress and comes with a cry that makes him happier than any Happy Birthday anyone has ever sung to him.

“Hey,” he says, looking up at her, taking in her flushed face, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes heavily through the aftershocks. “Thank you for my present.”

“Oh god.” She lets her head fall back with a long exhale. “You’re welcome.”

“And I really liked my birthday breakfast.”

She starts laughing and he crawls up the bed, looking at her, high on love and happiness.

“You know, I liked mine too and it’s not even my birthday,” she tells him, then sighs deeply. “There was no coffee though.”

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll have a second breakfast.”

“We can have breakfast as many times as you like,” she promises, and he lays down next to her and pulls her into his arms.

She’s his real gift, he knows it down to his bones. More than he deserves. But she tells him she loves him and he’s always been a believer, so he’ll believe this too. And give her as many gifts in return as she wants, whenever she wants. Anything he has to give. It’s all hers already.

[nuturalsuper]

sam and dean after they are done with hunting and they get a house somewhere in the countryside. they have a big dog that sam brought home one day and dean just couldnt say no, he loves the dog secretly but doesnt want to admit to that. they sleep in the same bed even though they have a spare bedroom, most days they wake all cuddled up, legs tangled, sticky and sweaty. they exchange a few kisses there, dean brushes sams hair away from his face so he could better see his sleepy face and sam smiles so softly, memories of all the times he almost lost dean running through his head so he hugs him just a little tighter, happy to have him right here next to him. their dog jumps on the bed to make them get up, most times its funny and sweet but sometimes ita annoying and sam has to get up, grumbling about it. he makes them some coffee and goes to take the dog on his morning run, unlike dean, sam didnt want to give up on exercising, he wants to stay in shape - just in case, he says, and dean shivers every time he hears that because if something happened that would require them to hunt again hed have to lock them both up somewhere or move all the way across the world. hes not loosing sammy, not again. by the time sam is back, dean already took a shower and got dressed for work, he helps out in a car repair shop not far from their house and as much as he complains about it, sam knows that dean loves it. sam works from home, if dean was asked to explain what exactly sams job is he probably wouldnt be able to but it has something to do with fact checking articles or something like that. he gets paid well and doesn't really have much stress about it so its a great job. in the evenings they usually make some food, have a few beers, watch a movie until dean starts snoring on the couch. his head somehow ends up on sams lap but hes not complaining. the pictures of the friends and family that they have lost along the way are staring down at them from the walls of their house. their basement is filled with guns and knives that they swore they would get rid of but cant seem to part with. johns journal sits on deans nighstand like a bible and he reads the verses before bed most nights while sam pretends to hate it while also sneaking a few glances at the drawings that he knows by heart by now. sometimes they cry. sometimes they cant get out of bed and sometimes they have such awful nightmares that they have to get up and watch TV until the morning. sometimes they get paranoid, sam mostly, saying how he saw a shadow in the corner of their room, or heard something from the attic, dean goes to check, every time, playing it off as if its not a big deal but secretly his heart is racing and there is a kitchen knife in his hands. sometimes they have sex, and its nothing like the quickies theyd have in gas station bathrooms, or in the back of their car, its not the hair pulling, biting, rough type that they used to have when they were younger and stressed out, its slow, its gentle, its sweet and loving, it doesnt even matter whos on top, they hold eachother afterwords and dean doesnt feel stupid for telling sam straight up that he loves him, and sam doesnt make fun of him, he says it right back. its not easy at all, they pretend to be normal, but their past is right there all the time and they cant get rid of it as it haunts them, it takes time but they do learn to live with it. its a little easier every day, at least theyre together like they were always supposed to be, and they get to experience getting old, something they never expected to have a chance to do

[garagepaperback]

absolutely love your fic recs omg! do you have any recs for authors who are currently still active? i'll read anything but i'm a big fan of stories that take their time and have a slow slow slow burn.

aww thank you for the ask! here are some of my top-tier favorites from ~active~ authors, varying degrees of slow burn:

probationary action - @toomuchplor

this fic is like being in a carnival funhouse where the walls are writhing, panting, dumb-hot, rigorously perfect smut and then slowly, slowly, you recognize all the mirrors and the warped floor are actually soft, glancing sentiment and crisp prose and then you make it back outside to a big, real, aching world. in the parking lot you will have also important thoughts about the punitive justice system.

Harry breathes out a sigh, dropping his face into the open palms of his hands. “Thank Merlin for you, Neville,” Harry says, looking up again. “You really are the best of all of us.” “I’m not,” says Neville, “but I do want to see you happy, Harry.” Harry reaches out and squeezes Neville’s shoulder fondly. “It must be very interesting, dating Malfoy,” says Neville, standing up. “He uses a lot of sex spells, doesn’t he.”

la, who am i to love you? - @epitomereally

a masterpiece! i'm actually getting sun-soaked dazed eyes just thinking about it. perfect, heat-scoured (the riddled-with-light skies! the la fires! the radiant blooming gardens! the fucking pool!) lush location, one of the most interesting takes, and still true-to-the-marrow depictions of harry, draco, pansy, luna - the list is endless. also so hot, and so dear. even the traffic feels dreamy.

“Maybe you could list the pros and cons of moving to LA for me, Harry,” Dr Goldstein prods. Uncomfortably, all Harry can think is Draco, Draco, Draco.

the july tree - @oknowkiss

:,) this is so sweet, fun, hot and adoring from another masterful prose-maker. everything that is glanced at feels so naturally done, the vividness creeps in before you're liable to fully realize you're in fact reading and not truly looking. explorative and understanding. 10/10, wonderful, a hundred gold stars.

His neck was in shambles from where it had been bent over to one side. He tried to move but there was a heavy weight on his shoulder. He looked down and saw Potter had fallen asleep on him. Potter’s hand had slipped between Draco’s legs, just above his knees, and then the train came to a stop and Potter woke up as well, lifting his head, his glasses slightly crooked. Draco wanted to go back an hour and keep himself awake, so that he could feel Potter on him, warm and heavy and unguarded. Instead he’d had only a few seconds before Potter sat up straight, stretching his arms overhead. He smiled at Draco before standing, resting his hand on top of Draco’s head as he walked by. It was lovely, and intimate, but all Draco could think of was the hour he’d slept through, an hour of time spent with Potter he wouldn’t ever get back, his brain repeating over and over, I missed it.

gallows-bird - @jtimu

i want to describe this one with eight knife emoji's and nothing more. four chapters in and every single one individually has ruined my day. it's wonderful, dreary, just enough gray that you'll wonder if the glint you thought you saw was hope or just a trick of the light. highly recommend, misery loves company, come on through.

There hadn’t ever been anyone to soothe Harry’s hurts. To fuss over his skinned knees or brush his hair back from his temples with tender thumbs, too coo softly over a scrape. Comfort was something he’d learned secondhand, dear and hard-bought, and so sat there with his fingers twisted together, knuckles like knotgrass, and tried to wrench the words out. He wanted to touch, instinct told him that much, but he lacked the framework for how and where, and so he didn’t, and they sat there together in a thorny silence.

from love, obviously - @starsworth

counting even though bizarrestars is writing mostly (lovely! gender-explorative! wonderful! wolfstar and also black familial fic currently) not drarry because just god damn. an essential read for me. weirdo, phenomenal draco and the best teddy in the game, easily. hilarious but in that way where your breath snags after laughing really hard and the moment sort of echoes.

"You were kissing," Teddy says. "I saw it."  Harry's eyes sink shut for a moment, and he drags a hand through his hair, which Draco may have accidentally made a mess of, then he blows out a deep breath and opens his eyes. "That's—well, that did happen, yes. That was…something we did."  Teddy's eyes narrow. "I thought you were mortal enemies."  "Mortal enemies kiss…sometimes," Harry says weakly, clearly out of his depth here. He grimaces almost immediately after he says this, then seems to remember he's the adult out of the two of them and coughs, standing up taller. "Nevermind that, you'll understand when you're older."

close behind - @oflights

oh my whole fucking heart. destroyed! adrift! she died how she lived. reading this feels like listening to music, something sleek and melodic, and when i actually consider the masterfully-rendered level of complexity in the plot, it feels like trying to peer into the belly of an actively-playing grand piano. certainly does not hurt to be an enormous fan of eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, orpheus and eurydice myth, and general suffering <3

“It’ll be all right,” Draco said again, and Harry swallowed the rest of his words. He couldn’t let them out here, in their bed, in their home; not yet. And his body didn’t know how to say what he wanted it to, not with Draco this close. Harry didn’t know how to tell Draco that they wouldn’t be all right, not in any language. Not yet.

[mintedwitcher]

im sure im not the first one to say it but i kinda hate the fact that the whole "bucktommys hate eddie!!!" thing took off at whatever point. bc like... admittedly, i don't like eddie NOW. but when i first got into the show (which admittedly it hasnt even been a year yet lmao admittedly a bucktommy clip popped up on my dash and i found them cute so i decided to watch the show from the beginning), i enjoyed him. i thought rg is good with comedy, and while i liked eddie, he just wasn't my favorite by any means and that was fine! i didn't really have any character that i disliked for the most part (even the antagonistic characters like doug and jonah were both in the ballpark of 'i love you because you're absolutely terrible and not being painted as anything other than that, i <3 drama and conflict' kinda like loving villains for being villains rather than woobifying em as a wittle misunderstood guy) aside from maybe one, and its heavily dependent on what season i'm watching.

but like idk. i think the end of s8 just ruined eddie for me, especially with the bts stuff and the fact that ppl have (imo) rightfully called out the fact that eddie's anger tends to just kinda get swept under the rug a lot by the show itself. fans excusing shitty behavior is normal fandom bullshit, nothing new, but idk it just feels like the show brushes it off and then has eddie rarely address his problems, at least not fully considering the whole "i gotta go be a dad to chris again" thing didn't even touch on the reason why christopher went to texas to begin with. he went from "guy who i was excited to hopefully see growth from!!!" to feeling stupid for hoping that eddie would take accountability for the kim stuff and apologize to his son.

but like. i never hated eddie before all of it. like i said, he just wasn't my favorite, and i just liked the way tommy and buck mesh together to the point where if they decide they want a new love interest for buck that they're gonna have to try really fucking hard to make someone better than tommy. hell, i liked all of buck's love interests even if i didn't really see any of them as endgame. i liked ana and marisol! i was pissed actually that eddie fumbled marisol so hard because she was cute and fun and i think she could have had so much more done with her!!! im not touching on shannon btw she's dead so there's no real point in bringing her (or kim) up imo.

is there no non-main woman safe from tim minear's writing (and thats being polite because (looks at henren mom problems) (looks at henren 'work-life balance' problems) (looks at the fact it kinda feels like maddie is reduced just down to 911 operator and milf just one chance maddie (and also chim) please /lh mom)) /j

idk it just sucks to get all the "why do you even like tommy he's barely on screen" bc the time hes "barely on screen" is more compelling to me than whats mostly on screen sometimes. i got attached to a background character with three lines who was only in ONE season of his show lmao like sometimes... whats not canon can be more compelling than whats canon if the writers fumble canon enough times. and for me, the writers have fumbled eddie one too many times :/ the grab + flinch "you make everything about yourself" bullshit was just the final straw for me and made me turn on a character i'd been neutral toward

👏👏👏

no words nonnie, you said everything that needed to be said here.

[saint-hearted-rumi]

Waiting for the day more Rujinu fics are willing to acknowledge (unintentionally or not) Jinu’s actions cruelly humiliating Rumi on stage were literally traumatic enough to lead to her becoming suicidal/asking Celine to kill her like a rabid dog (after Mira and Zoey also betrayed her by cruelly raising their weapons). All of their actions are unforgivable towards Rumi irl, but since this is fiction, I still enjoy angsty fics where they all work for Rumi’s trust/forgiveness again.

Maybe I’ve just not come across certain Rujinu fics with this topic, but so far, it seems mostly brushed over and only brought up in Poltrix fics the most (how Rumi literally became suicidal that night because everyone she knew failed her on the most epic of scales).

So, my first post on this new blog is to state for the fandom record: I am lightheartedly asking for more Rujinu fics where Jinu is crippled with guilt/feels Rumi die in an AU where Celine is truly just a heartless bitch (and not just heavily messed up while still caring for Rumi) and there’s a no happy ending chapter and an AU chapter where he manages to save her in time/any AUs where he lives actually DEALING with just how BAD what he did to Rumi truly was, since it lead to her wanting to die. I want that emo demon boy band member obliterated by guilt. Lol.

Tired of fandom using Celine as a scapegoat to absolve Zoey and Mira and Jinu’s cruel actions against Rumi. They ALL failed her on the most epic of scales that night and led to her wanting to die. It was a team effort. Lol.

Oh, yeah: and Rumi also didn’t ‘betray’ Zoey & Mira, because she’s under no obligation to throw herself at the mercy of two deadly demon hunters, just on the chance they’ll decide not to murder her on the spot. Zoey and Mira in raising their weapons against their ‘best friend’ are the only ones who made a betrayal that night. :) 💜✨

It should be obvious the title of my blog is a joke, but just because I know this is the internet and someone will inevitably take it the wrong way: Rumi is not perfect and has of course done wrong in the movie. She shouldn’t have lashed out at Mira when Mira was just trying to help (although I stand by the fact Mira was being WAY too aggressively pushy), and she definitely shouldn’t have released “Golden” without talking to the girls about it, especially since they’d just gotten done with being on tour already.

But still: anyone who comes on my blog to act like Rumi lying about being half demon to Zoey and Mira for HER OWN PHYSICAL SAFETY will always just be… wrong. 🤷‍♀️ :)

Now, with that being said—I love the new KPDH movie (and I DO like all the characters, even with all those criticisms. That’s why my blog says “Zoey and Mira and Jinu critical” instead of just ‘anti’). But I’m also what you call an ‘ethical character lover/criticizer’. Lol. 💜 I don’t baby the characters I like, even when fandom is admittedly just a place where most people want to have fun and not think of the irl implications.

That’s fine by others. But for me? On this blog, you’ll see me look at KPDH from an irl perspective—like the fact it will always be canon that Jinu and Zoey and Mira all partially made Rumi want to DIE, and also the fact irl that Rumi would definitely be unconsciously afraid of Zoey and Mira for months after the end of the movie, considering they cruelly raised their weapons at her like she was a monster when she was sobbing and begging for them to believe in her (which, unintentionally or not, blares a neon sign over their heads in Rumi’s eyes that they now ‘don’t believe she deserves to live’).

Basic canon facts on this blog I adhere to & not the fanon headcanons that are not accurate:

Zoey & Mira clearly were terrified of Rumi being half-demon/afraid and maybe even disgusted by her patterns. Taking Zoey’s knee-jerk words in the heat of the moment as absolute fact is naive at best. If they were only mad Rumi lied, they’d just be wary/stay away from her. But they instead cruelly RAISE THEIR WEAPONS, which was a silent show that they’d attack her if she gave them reason to. That’s not because she had a different damn hair color. It’s because she’s half DEMON, & it’s naive as hell to think Zoey and Mira (two deadly demon hunters who have been taught most of their lives that demons are ‘emotionless monsters’) didn’t care at all about Rumi’s demon heritage. They clearly did, just from their betrayal alone. And they too should’ve been begging on their knees to even BREATHE in Rumi’s direction after such a disgusting reaction to Rumi begging them to believe in her. It still pisses me off they never apologized. I know the movie was cut, but that still doesn’t FULLY redeem the two characters in my eyes from what they did to Rumi. It’s a bitterness that stays with you. I like their characters, while still despising them for this one act alone. Despite what some people may say—you CAN like a character while also despising their actions at the same time. Lol.

Jinu is not absolved by his cruel betrayal/humiliation of Rumi onstage just because Gwi-Ma threatened him/manipulated him. There’s a difference between ‘understandable’ and ‘justified’. What he did will never be okay/justified, and if he’d lived, he’d still owe Rumi a world of apologies. He also wasn’t ‘puppeteered’ by Gwi-Ma like Zoey and Mira were (being brainwashed). The movie doesn’t show that. It shows Jinu made a selfish choice when under pressure of Gwi-Ma’s manipulation. This means he’s sympathetic—NOT that he’s suddenly ‘not at fault for his actions’.

Jinu in CANON is shown to have abandoned/betrayed his family and left them behind. It is only a FANON headcanon that pretends Gwi-Ma might be ‘altering’ his memories, but there is no basis for it in the film itself but to try and absolve Jinu/make him look better. The historical context means Jinu wouldn’t have much choice in the king inviting him to the palace, but the movie does not hint ONCE that this is actually what’s occurring in the film, and if the movie were 100% accurate to real life, Bobby would not be the sunshine incarnate manager that he is to the girls, and Rumi, Mira and Zoey would probably be living in a horror show in the Kpop industry. This movie is not about being completely accurate to real life. If it doesn’t portray the Kpop industry correctly, then why would it portray Jinu’s backstory from ‘historical accurateness’? All this does is try to absolve Jinu of something the movie shows he willingly did. And this movie is about forgiving yourself for your WILLING mistakes, which means revealing Jinu ‘wasn’t at fault’ for abandoning his family makes no sense. The movie implies he still has a choice to turn around and leave with them. Him starving doesn’t absolve his actions either. It just makes him SYMPATHETIC. He is a villain who is also a victim all at once. Not just one or the other.

Celine in CANON is not shown to be a ‘heartless bitch’, and I will not adhere to any fanon pretending that she is and cackled like a demon and physically abused Rumi/despised her Rumi’s entire childhood (people who want to explore that in AUs are fine, because it’s an AU. But pretending this is actually canon is straight up wrong, because Celine REFUSES to even entertain Rumi begging Celine to put her down like a dog). She loves Rumi clearly enough that she can’t kill her, and nothing hints she was malicious in her actions, and any fans pretending she is are just projecting their own trauma onto her, because she’s a good scapegoat to try and absolve all of the other characters they LIKE (Jinu/Mira/Zoey) from their purposefully cruel actions against Rumi, which they all DID do and they are NOT let off the hook for. Celine was taught the same propaganda Zoey and Mira were, and anyone who says Zoey and Mira ‘aren’t at fault’ for their cruel betrayal of Rumi, while then turning around to condemn Celine as some cackling demon with no soul, are straight up hypocrites.

Celine isn’t the fandom scapegoat for all of Jinu/Mira/Zoey’s betrayals and cruel treatment of Rumi that night. Celine’s (unintentional but still disgusting) emotional abuse is what led to Rumi’s psyche being so fragile that she DID break so badly under the weight of Jinu and her friends’s betrayal—but that does NOT mean Jinu/Mira/Zoey aren’t also a LOT at fault for Rumi becoming suicidal that night too. They were ALL at fault. It was a team effort. Lol. 😭🤷‍♀️💔 And if Rumi had died? That would be on EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. I wish more fics took the full angsty weight of focusing on THAT level of harsh truth/guilt without pulling punches.

Jinu is FUNDAMENTAL to Rumi learning to accept her demon side/love herself for who she is (something that—believe it or not—the girls COULD NOT offer her, since they make ‘a demon with no feelings don’t deserve to live’ song lyrics, which CLEARLY would never let Rumi feel safe enough to tell them, and probably made her have nightmares of them finding out and murdering their ‘best friend’ on the spot). Anyone who tries to take away how important he is to Rumi’s arc is straight up simply using their own fanon headcanons (which it’s fine to have headcanons—but that will never make them TRUE to ACTUAL canon). This goes for the girls too—any fans who try and take away the importance of Rumi’s friendship with the girls and how they are basically her anchor to wanting to be alive (shown how after they cruelly betray her, she goes to Celine and begs to die) are straight up wrong and just plain using their own fanon headcanon. But it’s still not CANON.

And finally—Rumi will NEVER be ‘partially at fault’ for what happened at the Idol Awards. That is FULLY on Jinu, Mira and Zoey. She didn’t ’betray’ anyone that night (because she is NOT obligated to out herself to two deadly and dangerous demon hunters just to coddle their hurt feelings, and who could choose to murder her on the spot when told)—they all betrayed HER. That is the only thing that’s true to canon, and anything else is simply a fanon interpretation to try and absolve Mira and Zoey and Jinu of the cruelty of their actions.

With that being said—this is the little ‘intro’ of my KPDH fandom blog. :) 💜✨

—Star

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 8. Forms of bitterness

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: smut, fluff, noncon, dom/sub, dom!Feyd, oral (f receiving), felching, cockwarming, and more inkpie (poor reader can't catch a break)

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu

No sweeteners will cloak some forms of bitterness. — Bene Gesserit Coda

He just about dragged her back to his room — their room — half-naked through the halls. She screamed at him and bit and scratched his arm, but Feyd took no notice. He mostly enjoyed it, in fact. When he pushed her into the room and locked the doors behind them, she calmed down. There was no point in fighting him anymore.

Her dress hung on in tatters, slathered around her figure like a spill of ink, her hair in tangles among loosened threads. Feyd hardly wore anything, but what he’d thrown on during their little journey he threw off now in a hurry on his way to her.

“Stop, stop. Enough!”

“You don’t tell me when it’s enough,” he growled as he gripped her by the throat and kept on walking, pushing her toward the bed. “I tell you when it’s enough.”

“You’re a beast, just like your brother,” she hissed.

And as if that were a curse, it weakened all his muscles. He let her go and looked into her eyes, weak and wounded, before the anger came. Feyd clenched his teeth, a pit of shiny black between pale lips, and shoved her. She fell onto the mattress with a huff.

“You’ll pay for that,” he promised, and horrors were rolling behind his eyes, images of what he could do to her even without his daggers — where were they, anyway? He must’ve left them at the dinner table.

But when he reached down and touched her again he found his grip was gentle, almost a caress. She seemed surprised as well and in her wary eyes, he noticed fear. He’d never seen it quite like that before… Not even when they first met. She seemed more determined then, ready to meet death, but now, dazed and aching from what they’d done before, she didn’t seem sure of anything. He held her jaw loosely enough that she could pull herself away if she wished to, but she didn’t.

Feyd looked at the bite marks and bruises he’d left on her and couldn’t help the slight pull of a smile.

“You’re quite the canvas,” he rasped with genuine admiration in his voice. He loved to see the splatter of blood on the white sands of the arena, but she was the closest he’d ever come to making art. “I want to make more…”

“Let go of me,” she whispered and scrambled backwards on the bed. “You’ve had enough fun for one day.”

He followed her onto the bed, then grabbed her ankle and pulled her back toward him. His body covered hers and his lips swallowed her little scream. She tasted sweet and bitter and there was a hint of teeth — his, hers, it was hard to tell; their mouths melded as one. His hands started roaming her body and she nearly jumped in fear or anticipation but he only caressed her. His palms went from brushing up and down her breasts to squeezing them, then travelled lower. He gripped her waist and held her tightly to the bed, possessed her in the only way he really could, and felt her fragile innards giving way beneath his hands. It was a rare thing to feel power over her… To see real fear in her eyes — not of his weapons, not of his status as Planetary Governor, but of him. He had nothing more than his hands and teeth, and she did too, both of them in their naked skin on a black bed, and everything they felt, they felt only for each other.

His hands moved down to cup her hips while he bent down to kiss her. She smelled salty from her tears and her lips were dry and flaky but she was more perfect now to him than she’d ever been before. He moaned against her and finally pulled away, opening his eyes to find her breathless. She frowned up at him from the centre of the soft halo of her hair but Feyd could only smile. There was a sliver of blackness between her lips and he realised with great delight that he had left it there.

“How pretty you are like this,” he whispered, reaching up to brush his thumb across her cheek.

“Why even say that to me?” she muttered, glaring at him.

“I thought you witches were supposed to be clever,” said Feyd with a smirk, but he couldn’t help a certain fondness in his tone. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Enlighten me, Black Sun.”

He brushed the tip of his nose against hers and smiled as he whispered, “Because I want you pretty desperately right now. I’ve wanted you before but seeing you in pain, hearing you scream, tasting it on you…” He sucked in a quick breath as he looked down at her lips with lidded eyes. “And feeling how tight you got all around me… I want that. I want it again.”

She barely had the chance to squirm before Feyd grabbed her by the neck, and although she instinctively held her breath he didn’t squeeze her. He just held her there while he nudged her legs apart and set himself between them. His smooth pale arm was right against her chest and he could feel how warm she was, could feel her heart, and how frantically it was beating. He lowered himself once again to kiss her and then, like a snake, slid lower. He pressed his lips against her trembling chin, then kissed her breasts while his other hand went up to tangle itself in her hair. She groaned when he started pulling on it, but she was a good girl and understood. She bent her head and arched her back for him.

Feyd pulled her puckered nipple in his mouth and sucked on it as if he’d missed it those few minutes since they walked from there to here. And he had. Now that he knew what to expect from her body — what textures, what tastes, how she’d respond to every bit of attention — he could focus only on enjoying the experience. Her nipples had a waxy smoothness to them, a truly special bit of skin, and so sensitive that within seconds of being in his mouth, they hardened. He imagined for a moment how greatly the experience would improve if he could suckle milk from her and he moaned embarrassingly loudly at the thought. His cock hardened again and he brushed it up and down her thigh, but he didn’t let himself get carried away just yet. He had other plans.

He let go of her neck but kept his fist around her hair and as he went lower down her body she was forced to bend. She cursed him and clawed at his arm, her feet pressing down against the bed, but Feyd assaulted her body with kisses as if none of that mattered. As if he was used to taming Bene Gesserit witches like her. He looked up into her eyes and smirked with his lips above her tummy, tongue leaving sticky circles on her belly button, while with his free hand, he cupped her hip to hold her still. She didn’t seem to realise what he meant to do until right before he did it.

“N-no, no, don’t —”

He pressed a deep and loving kiss over her mound and at the top of her slit and then with a stretch of his tongue he was lapping at her clit. She was slathered in a mess of white — from her — and black — from him — and as he closed his eyes and pulled their mixed juices in his mouth he wondered how similar their shades were to the skies of Giedi Prime.

“Ugh, you’re a beast,” she muttered, twisting between the sharp discomfort at her scalp and the pleasure that throbbed through her anew.

“That’s… twice you’ve… called me that,” muttered Feyd between long, suckling kisses at her twitching little nub. “I still have to punish you… But later.”

She was so swollen and flushed, her body opening almost like a flower or the ripe flesh of a fruit. He buried his tongue inside her and she gave a high and girlish yelp that sounded halfway between a sob and laughter. With a gentleness on the cusp of veneration, Feyd pulled her lips into his mouth and kissed around them, pulling out of her the cum he’d spilt before. She trembled in his grasp at the feeling of it being sucked out of her and slinking out. Her back arched, feet scrambling against the black and silky sheets as she twisted herself in even more impossible ways, caught between trying to get away and coming closer.

His chest was pressed into the bed as he half-kneeled between her legs, his body completely forgotten while he focused all on her. The bitterness of his black cum was coated with her sweetness. She’d kept it warm for him. It dripped onto his tongue in dollops and he moaned at the memory of pushing it up into her, of giving her almost more than she could take. And now that he had her at his mercy, twisted in delicious pain while she clung and clawed at his shoulders, he could service her softest parts with his lips and teeth and tongue and he’d never felt more like a man.

When all he could taste was flesh and her cries had petered out to whimpers, Feyd ended his deep kisses with a few long licks at her hole. She cried out more urgently and her nails dug into his skin, and then a rush of shivers that started along her spine rose up to her throat and betrayed that she had cum again.

“Good girl,” he whispered against her clenching hole, soothing it with little kisses that kept her moaning and on edge. “What a sweet thing you are, my darling…”

She whimpered at his words, just like he intended. Her hips twisted, taking her away from him, but Feyd merely moved to kiss her inner thigh. She was wet there too and sticky, her warm skin coated with a mix of sweat, softer in quite a different way than her tender hole had been.

“Nobody gets to kiss you here often, do they?” he asked in a rough whisper. “Or here,” he said, moving up again to chase her most sensitive parts. “Mmmm… What a shame.”

She twitched right before his eyes, both of her holes tightening shyly. Just the sight of it took his breath away. She gave a wordless, weakened moan and pressed her heel against his shoulder, trying to push him off of her again, but Feyd cupped the inside of her knee to hold her still and leaned down to kiss her swollen parts once more.

“S-stop,” she groaned. “Aaah! And l-let me go…”

“Hmmm?” he asked with a cocked brow.

When he looked at her, he understood. She was uncomfortable. He had gripped her hair perhaps a bit too tightly and even the soft bed was not enough to leave her feeling good. He liked seeing her suffer but he told himself he didn’t like a fuss, so he eased the tightness of his fingers and slowly released her from his grasp. The relief in her sigh was almost childish, so endearing. Feyd smiled as he braced himself up on his arms above her.

She was lying tired and supine, her chest heaving, her breasts sore and reddened as if blushing. He braced his arms on either side of her and leaned down to lay one loving kiss on each puckered nipple, ignoring her protesting whimpers. Then, just as he had promised earlier, he slotted himself between her legs while holding her face still before him. He looked into her eyes — fear and anger melded there, hiding something from him — and held her gaze as he pressed his cock into her body once again.

She moaned and arched to get away but Feyd would not allow her. He cupped her jaw with one hand while the other was tangled in her hair. And whether she glared up at him angrily or closed her eyes in pain he was always there, above her, watching every emotion flicker across her face as he went deeper, deeper, into the tight channel that was so familiar now but still so different. She was warmer, even softer, and so, so tender... He could feel her used hole crying around his cock, lathering his balls with cloying, sticky juices. She blushed at the way it sounded when he worked his way up into her, but Feyd couldn’t even find it in him to smile or grin with the smugness he expected to feel — after all, he had done that to her, he’d been the one to bring her to this state, his stern and fierce lady Bene Gesserit... Instead, he was in awe at the sensations, at everything, from the way her body felt beneath him — her vulnerable stomach flexing beneath his, her heart beating quickly, hands clawing at his shoulders — to the blushing sweetness of her face, her shaky voice, her body’s scent, the full experience of her. He half-believed she’d managed to cast some spell because at that moment he was fully enchanted.

With a groan, he reached her end. She cried out a warble of sounds he could hardly make sense of and flexed her body in a last attempt to get away, but Feyd held her. He let his weight press her down just slightly more into the mattress and shushed her whimpers while underneath he spread his knees and positioned himself more firmly.

“Does it hurt?” he rasped in a close whisper, thumb brushing her frown away.

“Y-yes,” she whispered with bubbling resentment, refusing to look into his eyes.

He smiled and let his gaze traverse her face from her creased brows to her red parted lips. Sweat pooled in the small of his back making him shiver, but beneath him, she felt feverishly warm. He pulled back gently and stopped, soaking in the feeling of her core clenching around his tip, then thrust hard into her again. She moaned in pain, or perhaps pleasure, as Feyd built up the pace. He rocked into her body as steadily as a crashing wave but held her firmly in his arms and slowly began to kiss her, sipping at her lips and cutting her sweet sounds short. His muscles trembled from the pleasure of feeling her pain so completely, from the way her intimate parts tightened around him, bruised and battered and sore, to the look of ecstatic agony upon her face and the sound of it that kept pouring forth.

“Shhh… there, there,” he soothed her, his voice low and heavy with the strain of holding back. “Almost done with you… You’re nearly there, aren’t you, my sweet?”

“No,” she pleaded, head shaking side to side between his hands. “No, no, no more, stop!”

He kissed her again and tightened his arms around her, holding her as still beneath him as he could while he started thrusting harder, shoving himself into her body with all the desperation of a man who wished to disappear, to be forgotten. She gasped against his lips, back arching, heart thundering beneath his own, and when he heard her cry out louder and felt her core clench tight enough to hurt he knew that she was close to cumming.

“There you are, that’s it, just a bit longer,” he whispered, kissing now her cheeks, her chin, along her jaw.

“Feyd,” she gasped with eyes closed and head pressed into the mattress, hands clinging to his waist mindlessly even as she seemed to want to pull away.

He cursed and bit into her shoulder when he felt her start to cum. Her hole closed up around him and he couldn’t move, didn’t want to move, and instead allowed her to be shattered by her pleasure. Her cervix nipped at his crown and her lips kissed his swollen sac. Feyd clung to her just as tightly as she held on to him. His own orgasm took him by surprise and he found himself crying out against her skin, his mouth full of her taste and her voice soft and close to his ear. He spread his legs slightly and hers too with the same motion as he settled deeper still, and then after a sudden burst of warmth within his loins, his balls clenched closer to his body and released what cum he had left into her. She gasped at the feeling of his cock twitching deep inside her, at his inky cum filling her again, but she was too weak to complain, too tired to even scratch him. All he heard now were her whimpers and small echoes of his name.

He held her tightly as he spilt his seed then gradually eased off of her. He could taste iron in his mouth — her blood — but if she was in pain he couldn’t see it. When he raised himself up on his elbows she looked dazed, half-asleep, but her lidded eyes looked sated, a feeling he knew all too well. Feyd smiled and kissed her as he eased himself to the side, his cock still held inside her, their mix of cum dripping down onto her thighs. He didn’t notice that his hands were shaking until he brushed the hair out of her face.

“You’re smiling,” she quietly said, her voice reduced to a delicious rasp.

“Mhmmm,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across her lips.

“Why?”

“Your mouth. It’s stained all black and red from me.”

She reached up to wipe her lips of the mix of her blood and his inky residue, but he caught her wrist and laid it down between them.

“I like the way it looks.”

His witch groaned and closed her eyes in something that was meant as disapproval, but Feyd couldn’t find it in him to be upset.

“You can rest now.”

“You permit it?” she asked archly.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I do.”

With a tired smile, Feyd cupped her messy head and tucked it underneath his chin, then he wrapped his leg around her. She was too exhausted to react and he could feel her fast falling asleep, but for a moment it was as if they both felt the same thing. The quiet in the room spoke to them, their skin chilled underneath the same dry current, and under only a thin layer of skin, their blood flowed to the same heartbeat. With the last bit of strength he had, Feyd wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his face into her hair. If he had dreams that night, he wanted them to only be of her.

[tsarisfanfiction]

A Father's Duty

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family, Angst Characters: Apollo, Zeus, Cabin Seven Apollo loves his children. He also loves his father. @toapril-official is back for another year! My life is pretty busy this year but I'm still going to try and get all 30 days done - I've gone into it with a plan this year, so maybe that'll help... Anyway, here's TOApril day 1 - Tumbling Love. Zeus' parenting is its own warning, I think.

The first thing Apollo noticed as he approached Camp Half Blood was the shrieking.  High pitched shrieks, ones that could only come from children, and if he hurried his pace a little – he had chosen to arrive quietly this time, no sun chariot landing by the lake, no flash of light as a god materialised, just a good, mortal-fashioned stroll through the surrounding woods towards the archway proclaiming the name of the camp for all those who could see it – then that was no-one’s business but his own.

Shrieks, like all noises, came in a variety of fashions, and while Apollo had seen mortals and immortals alike react in panic at all types, it was easy for him to identify these shrieks as shrieks of laughter.  Demigods shrieking in laughter, mostly the younger ones with their higher pitched voices but there were some deeper, older voices tangled in as well.

And they were close.

He crested Half-Blood Hill, brushing past Peleus and not sparing the golden fleece a single glance, nor Thalia’s old pine tree, to see what, exactly, the demigods were up to that made them so raucous – not that Apollo minded the noise.  The opposite, in fact – he loved hearing the demigods so carefree.

He loved seeing it, too.

The harpies were no doubt watching on somewhere in resignation as their charges added more work to their already never-ending list of cleaning chores to keep the camp safe and hygienic, but to Apollo the sight of green-stained t-shirts, and pants, and even skin, was a beautiful sight.

Demigods were still children, not magically older or more mature than their mortal peers even if their parentage and the world it brought them into forced them into something more aware aged them before their time because if it didn’t it would kill them, and seeing them act like it always settled something in Apollo’s essence.  He wasn’t the god of children, or youth – Hebe would have several unpleasant things to say if he so much as suggested he was - but he was their protector, the protector of not just the young but of their youth.

It was a role he kept failing at, with demigods, as the world kept pushing and pushing.  This camp was the closest he could come to succeeding at it and its success was intermittent at best.

Right now, it seemed like it was succeeding.

Merida giggled as she pushed her twin, who yelped as he overbalanced and grabbed at her in turn as he fell, dragging her down with her.  They rolled down the hill in a mess of limbs and squawking, yelling at each other and humour surrounding them as they went.  A little further along the hill, Kayla threw herself down with abandon, closely followed by Jerry, while Yan took the more sensible approach of laying down before starting to roll.  Gracie was talking quietly with Austin, but both of them were also grass-stained, so they just seemed to be taking a break from the time honoured tradition of children rolling down hills for no reason other than because they could, and because it was fun.

Apollo loved the sight.

More heads came back into view, Will with his arm around Raphael and blond hair threaded through with glimpses of green, the two boys laughing.  Behind them, Alice’s make-up was smeared but she didn’t seem to notice as she goaded Sam into pulling her up the hill, while Emma hung onto her own waist to get dragged up.

None of them noticed him, but that was by design as he faded into the background, content for the moment to watch them play, tumbling down the hill again and again and feeling his essence thrum with pure love.

There was nothing quite like loving his children.  Nothing like being a father to these innocent, battered but not broken demigods.  Apollo loved being a father, always had done even if he usually looked too young to be one, by mortal standards.

He didn’t understand the people who didn’t.

Apollo watched his children play, unaware of their audience, and considered joining them, letting his presence be known.  It had been a little while since he’d last dropped by in person, even if he’d spoken with most of them in their dreams the past couple of evenings.

The scent of ozone, sprites of static brushing against his essence, stopped him before he could make a move.

“You should not be here,” his own father said, sparking into existence.  For Zeus, it was an unusually subtle display of his presence, but Apollo supposed he didn’t want the demigods to notice he’d deigned to make his way into their camp, even if it was only the very fringes of it, standing underneath the boughs of the tree he had once created to prevent his daughter dying entirely.  Apollo was glad of that, too - he didn’t want his children, or any other demigods, realising Zeus was there, either.

It was bad enough that they were in Zeus’ presence, catching his attention, in the first place.  Apollo supposed he hadn’t been subtle enough in his own approach, not if his father had noticed.

Zeus wasn’t looking at his children, though.  Not yet, at least.  Instead, his piercing blue eyes were focused on Apollo himself, which was never a comfortable position to find himself in, but it was better than it being his children.  He wasn’t foolish or naive enough to think that his father wasn’t fully aware of the demigods, and whose children they were, though.

His father didn’t look as stern as Apollo expected him to be, when he met the older god’s gaze with his own, trying to minimise Zeus’ reasons to look to his children.

It was to no avail.  He’d barely made eye contact when Zeus looked away, looking instead at the children who continued to play, oblivious to their grandfather’s presence.  Apollo stifled Lester’s instinct to swallow, to show nervousness.

“Although,” Zeus continued, as though there had been no pause, not giving Apollo time to scramble to come up with an answer that would both appease his father and not put his children in more danger than they already were, “it is a father’s prerogative to watch over his children.”

There had never really been a hope that Zeus wouldn’t know exactly who he was looking at.

Those bright blue eyes, so much like Jason’s except Jason had been a mortal and his father was the king of the gods with windows to an essence of an eternal storm, whirling and flashing for millennia, much like the storm on the surface of the planet named for his Roman form, glanced back at Apollo again, and he felt seen in a way he didn’t want to be, not by this god, of all beings.

“In that, we are not so different, you and I,” his father commented, and Apollo had to fight to supress the unease that rippled through his essence.  “Watching over our children, guiding them… making sure they take the right path, against all other temptations.  Those are a father’s duty.”

“I agree.”  It wasn’t something Apollo could deny, wasn’t something he’d argue with his father about, not when his children were right there.

Zeus smiled, and it made him look benevolent.  Kind.  The way Apollo remembered him from his youth, before he learnt that storms were unpredictable and it didn’t matter how pretty the sky was when the lightning struck.  He didn’t know why Zeus was showing him those same pretty skies now.

It felt like a warning.

“I cannot stop you from being a father,” the older god told him, “but you must remember, Apollo, that demigods are mortal.  They are not gods.  Their lives flicker for less than a century before they disappear forever.”

That, felt like a threat.

“I know, Father,” he said, not even risking a glance towards the slope of the hill, although it didn’t stop him being aware of Kayla throwing herself back down again, and the shrieks of laughter that accompanied it.

“A father guides, but he knows when to step back,” Zeus said, as though he hadn’t said anything at all.  “Remember that, too, my son.  Do not linger - and I am sure I do not have to remind you of the Laws.”

He disappeared in another crackle of ozone, before Apollo could even digest the words, but Apollo was under no illusions that he was still being watched.  There could be no visiting his children today, not now.

Not while Zeus was watching… and Zeus was always watching.

Watching, and judging, ready to correct his children’s paths if they strayed.  Apollo watched Gracie push Austin down the hill and surprised a wince as he recalled falling himself, no doubt pushed by his father for all he still didn’t remember it.

He tried to imagine doing that to his own children, remembered Hal and the way he’d had to give him a gentle push before Zeus interceded and pushed harder, tried to imagine pushing any of them hard of his own volition.  He failed.

Guiding his children?  Yes.  But he couldn’t conceive of doing to his children what his father had done to him.  Not even his immortal ones, the ones that wouldn’t flicker and fade within a century.  He couldn’t imagine how Zeus had done it.

Sometimes, it made him want to hate his father.  Olympus knew Zeus’ treatment of him wasn’t right, that the Apollo of old, before the Ancient Laws and his own father’s threats of punishment, would’ve punished parents for if they’d done it to their children.  Apollo didn’t know if Zeus loved him, any more.  He thought he had done, once upon a time, but now?  Now, it was difficult to tell.

Now, it didn’t matter.  Zeus could love him with the strength of a thousand suns and it wouldn’t change anything, because his actions and words were angled to control, to punish, to hurt, regardless of the intent behind them.

The same way, it didn’t matter that Apollo still loved Zeus, that even now, standing in the shelter of Thalia’s tree and watching the children that his father may or may not have just subtly threatened, he couldn’t take back the centuries of love that he’d poured into his father.  He feared him, distrusted him, at times resented him… but he still loved him.

He always would, he knew, and it felt like a betrayal to his own children that he could love the god that would snuff their lives out with a single thunderbolt if the mood struck him – the god that had done that exact same thing before.  It felt like he shouldn’t love them both, but he did.

It didn’t matter, though.  It didn’t change anything.  Apollo had loved Commodus – still, deep inside his essence, loved him despite everything he’d done.  That hadn’t stopped him from killing him twice; if anything, it had spurred him on to end him with his own hands, rather than let anyone else take his life.

Loving his father wouldn’t stop him from doing what he needed to do.  Maybe he couldn’t stop loving him, but he could still choose his children over him.

His father wouldn’t hurt his children.  Not again.