#but please don’t interact with me about them

[paigebueckersmommy]

maybe not enemies pt.1 - p.b

paige bueckers x fem!roomate! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, drinking, mean paige kinda?, 1st person

a/n: i am well aware the team rooms togther but act like they don’t for this fic 🥰 also i hate this with every bone in my body.

you and paige had met briefly a few times. all you knew was you two weren’t into the same things.

it was the start of my senior year of college, and i had always taken my academics seriously, but i needed to take them more serious this year, and geting roomed with the schools biggest party animal, caused problems.

i began unpacking the suit case on my bed, waiting for my roomate to arrive. they sent an email with dorm assignments, which your roomate obviously hadn’t seen.

when i heard the door open, i snapped head. “fuck.” you heard a attractive voice say, which you didn’t wanna admit was attractive. “i’m not happy about this either.” you say making eye contact with the blonde.

“how’d you know?” paige says setting stuff down on her bed, “they sent an email.” i say looking back at my stuff.

“well, the best way to handle being roomed with the most boring person on earth, is if we agree to not talk unless it’s needed.” paige said, with an look of annoyance on her face. “agreeed, just please don’t be loud.” you say rolling your eyes, “k.”

time skip to a couple months later

you could tell paige was a little confused by your style when she mostly only ever saw you wearing hoodies, sweatpants and leggings, but tonight was diffrent.

you were standing infront of the mirror on a saturday night, putting lipgloss on. wearing a mini skirt and a mesh long sleeve, a black lacey bra underneath.

“where you going? shouldn’t you be studying or sum shit.” paige said looking you up and down from her bed. “why would it matter to you? but for your infortntion i’m going to a bar with my friends.” i say, looking back at her.

“oh my god!!! she has friends everyone!!” paige says acting suprised, not very good acting. “just because i care about my academics more than you doesn’t make me a nerd.”

“oh please, admit you’re just stating and don’t have any friends.” paige says cocking her head, when jsut then you heard a knock on your door. you opened it, your friends head peaking thru the door. “you almost rea- hey. wanna come?” your friend says, making eye contact with paige mid sentence.

“oh? inviting me? fuck it, yea lemme get dressed.”

you step out of your dorm room, shocked by the interaction. “damn. she barley talks to me i don’t know why she’d wanna come out with-“ you stopped mid sentence when paige walked out of your dorm. she was wearing white pants and a pink crop top, you had only ever seen her wear basketball gear so you were a little shocked at this.

“mm.. she knows how to dress everyone.” you say matching paige’s pace in the hallway as two of your friends were a little in front of you.

“oh i know your not talking. this is the 3rd time ive ever seen you not wear a hoodie. probobly why you don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

“b-boyfriend? i’m sorry, what makes you think i like men?” you say crooking your head words paige, curious. “o-oh i’m sorry, i just-“

“your good. i get a lot that i look straight.. but im lesbian.” you say with a soft smile making eye contact with paige, as you realize she’s also smiling.

“hm. good to know.” paige says, looking your outfit up and down, and that’s whe your mind began spinning.

did i like paige? was she trying to tell me something? were we, not enemies?

you put those thoughts to the side as you reached the doors of the bar. it was a saturday night, so it was crowded but not as crowded as it is on fridays. you, paige and your two friends found spots at the bar, paige sitting next to you as she ordered a round of shots for you two without even asking what you wanted.

“oh? thank you? your not being mean to me for once?” you say out of confusion before downing the shot. “mmm. you don’t look half as bad tonight.”

“could say the same about you.”

pt 2 soon!!!

[moonstruckme]

can i request a doctor!remus fic where maybe reader comes into the er and is very panicked by doctors and hospitals and they call remus in to help because he’s like known for putting people at ease….this may or may not be based on when i freaked out over a needle and they had to bring in a special doctor :l please and thank you and i’m obsessed with your fics <3

Thank you sweetness <3

cw: hospital, needle

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Your heart is in your throat. It’s pounding so hard you can feel its beating in your teeth, and no matter how you try you cannot get tears to stop leaking from your eyes. 

“Wait,” you say again, the word a wobbly, tight-voiced mantra. You keep thinking that if you can just calm yourself enough to seem credible, you can reason with these people. Convince them that you’re actually fine, so there’s no need to touch you, or poke you, or try to move your already agonizing shoulder. 

There are already three people in your tiny curtained-off room with you, so when the curtain pulls back and a fourth enters, you angle your hurt shoulder away from him unconsciously. 

“Hello,” the new doctor says. His voice is low and velveteen smooth, cutting through the thrumming panic in your brain like a warm knife through butter. The other doctor and the nurses who have been trying to pacify you fall quiet, seemingly relieved this other man is here. He glances quickly at a clipboard. “Y/n? I’m Remus.” 

“Hi.” You feel pathetic and a bit wild, tears still trudging down your face as you try to keep an eye on everyone in the room, especially the nurse with the needle. They’ve promised you several times now that they’re not going to do anything until you agree, and it’s not that you don’t trust that but you’re wary of anything happening without your notice. 

Remus walks over to you as though this scene is completely normal for him. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed and sets the clipboard down. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking as though he’d really like to know. His expression is kind and concerned. 

You give a little laugh, using your good hand to wipe under your eyes. It comes out sounding pitchy and stilted. “I’ve been better,” you admit. Remus’ lips curve in a small, sad smile. “I just, I’d really rather not be here.” 

“That’s understandable,” he replies patiently. He seems the least urgent of anyone you’ve interacted with since you’ve been here, and there’s a tranquility about him that’s contagious. You feel your tears slowing. “This isn’t really somewhere people end up when their day is going according to plan. What is it that’s making you nervous, sweetheart?” 

All of it, you want to say. The doctors and the nurses and the machines and the hair-raising sound of a baby crying a few rooms over. You hate hospitals and you always have. The idea of needing to be in more pain to relieve the one you’re already experiencing makes you feel like you’re trying to breathe through a straw. 

“I don’t like needles,” you say. Understatement of the year. 

Remus nods, seeming to mull this over. “Well, you have a dislocated shoulder,” he says, mouth pinching sympathetically. “The only way to fix that is to put the joint back into its proper place. It’s not the sort of thing that takes care of itself.” As he talks, his hand moves to rest on top of yours, forefinger stroking a slow back-and-forth across the back of your hand. “It can be fairly painful,” he tells you, “and if you move you could make things a lot harder for yourself. So, we’re going to give you medicine to help you calm down and alleviate the pain.” 

In his steady, dulcet voice, the thing that’s been explained to you twice over already sounds a lot more sensible. His thumb works over your hand, light brown eyes gently coaxing.

“The good thing about this procedure is, both parts are done with fairly quickly. And if you’d like me to, I can hold you while Dr. Michaels works, if that’ll help you at all.” 

The other three people in the room are moving again, somewhat slowly, but Remus doesn’t seem to notice. He holds your gaze. 

“Yes, please,” you say tightly. You know it’s an acquiescence. Even as you say it more tears are blurring your vision. 

“Alright, it’s alright.” Remus wastes no time in moving to your side, his hip pressed to yours while he wraps one arm around your middle and uses the other to turn your face into his shoulder. “You’re fine, sweetheart.” 

You feel childish and embarrassed, wetting his scrubs with your tears, but he only sweeps his thumb over your ribs, shushing you compassionately.  

“We’re going to give you the medicine now, try to stay relaxed.” 

You tense when you feel the cold wipe, and a quiet whimper slips past your lips at the bite of the needle. 

Remus’ hand tightens on your head. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. The needle slips out. 

“Breathe,” Remus instructs. You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. You let out a tremulous exhale, and he brushes some hairs away from your face, your forehead still resting on his shoulder. “That was good,” he assures you. “You’re halfway done now.” 

“Thank you,” you say, more than a little humiliated as you swipe the wetness from your cheeks, sniffling. 

Remus offers a small smile. It’s absurd how much it relaxes you. “Don’t mention it.” He looks to the other doctor. “How do you want her for this next part?” 

“Lying down, please.” 

He turns back to you. “Okay? You want help?” 

Your good hand has gone back to holding your shoulder, so he uses a hand on your back to help ease you horizontal on the bed. Once you’re settled he coaxes your hand away, taking it in his own. His skin is warm and scarred in some places, cruel lines that feel like a violation to touch. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

Remus gets you talking, about the fall that landed you in here, your day before that, your life in general. His responses are understanding and amused at times, seemingly genuinely invested in what you have to say. As you speak his thumb is moving over the side of your hand, down to your wrist and back again, slow and hypnotic. A few minutes later, your eyelids and limbs are heavy, the movement of Remus’ thumb the center of your focus as he tells you about one of the many scrapes his ostensibly reckless friends have gotten into over the years. 

“Seems like it’s working,” he says with a little smile. You blink, not having realized he’d finished his story. “How do you feel, love?” 

“Sleepy.” Your voice sounds stretched and lazy. “My arm still sorta hurts, though.” 

Remus makes a sympathetic tsking sound. “Unfortunately, we can’t make all the pain go away, but it will be a lot easier than it would have otherwise.” He trades hands, taking your hand in his other one and using the first to make sure your face is angled towards him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here with you.” 

Somehow, that makes everything seem a lot more manageable. 

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 2 of 2 (sneakpeak)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This is only a sneakpeak of day 2. I'm not yet done writing the second chapter but I feel bad bcos of how long it's taking me...so here it is! Sneakpeak of day 1. Also, the entire chapter will be posted here when I'm done and satisfied with it :> Enjoy po

Part 1, Full day 1

“No one told me that we have an adorable new housemate.”

The six sleepy men sitting around the dining table looked up as soon as Park Jimin walked entered the room, in his arms was a fluffy cat that was actively hissing at him. He cooed down at it, softly stroking the thick fur with his hand that was now sporting claw marks.

“We’re already so close!” he announced with softness in his voice despite the repetitive kicks brought by the furry creature in his arm.

“I don’t think you are liked very much…” Jungkook quietly commented, his doe eyes went even larger at the bleeding scratches on his skin. As if sensing an opportunity to escape, the cat suddenly wriggled free from Jimin's arms and darted across the room, landing squarely in Hoseok's lap.

“Hi, my son! Did you have a good night’s sleep?” he asked affectionately, reaching down to stroke the cat's fur.

“Hyung has a secret son!” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung in a scandalous manner, clutching his nonexistent pearls. Taehyung, who looked like he lived and fought through three wars from his exhausted form and his sluggish movement only nodded at Jungkook.

“Whose cat is that? Is that yours, J-hope?” Jin asked, pointing at the cat with his mug. He didn’t know that they now had a furry housemate. Additionally, he didn’t know that he was a cat person.

Namjoon just smirked at his brothers, “That’s not his.”

“My God, I am so tired,” Jimin sat next to Taehyung, his muscles aching with exhaustion. With a heavy sigh, he leaned his whole weight on his friend, seeking some semblance of comfort in their shared weariness.

"Everything hurts," Taehyung moaned, mirroring Jimin's sentiment. He glanced over at Namjoon, pleading silently for a solution. "We need her. Hyung, please. Do something," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Jungkook finally put down his spoon with a loud thud, standing up to look at them one by one. “Okay, I cannot be the only one curious about whose cat that is!” he pointed at the cat who only meowed back at him before shifting his finger to his hyung who was silently eating with a smile on his face. “And you, why do you look so good this morning, hyung, while the four of us look like we are 3 hours away from passing away?” he asked Yoongi, his doe eyes demanding answers from the chaotic bunch that only turned more chaotic as the morning wore on.

Yoongi, taking a leisurely sip of his coffee, raised an eyebrow at Jungkook's question. His lips curled into a smirk, revealing a hint of amusement. "Well, Kookie, some of us are just naturally blessed with good genes," he quipped, his tone teasing.

“Excuse me?! Are you saying that I am not blessed with good genes?! Me?! The world wide handsome?! Now, you’re just outright lying!”

“Hyuuuuung, do something! I think I’m dying!” Taehyung shouted amidst the noise.

“Stop screaming you’re scaring my son!” Hoseok shot back all while covering the cat’s little ears.

“Whose cat is that even?!” Jungkook asked again in disbelief, the vein in his throat protruding from annoyance and curiosity.

“Oh my God, Taehyung! I already did something, okay?!” Namjoon finally raised his voice for him to hear.

“Ahhhhhhh, my head hurts and she’s the only cure! I have to go to her!” Jimin whined sadly, attempting to leave his chair slowly.

“In that state?!” Jin shouted at Jimin and Taehyung, already feeling the stress causing havoc on his otherwise beautiful face.

But Taehyung and Jimin were already halfway out of their chair, clutching their heads dramatically. "I can't take this anymore! I need her!" he wailed, his eyes darting around the room with desperation only to find you by some miracle.

“Little one…” he called, his voice small as though he couldn’t believe that you were truly there. It was like their pain manifested you, and heavens, it was worth it. He’d willingly go through this pain if it meant seeing you and having you here where you belonged.

With them.

“Good morning, has anyone seen my cat?”

Your voice, despite it being low, was sufficient to stop the bickering among the CEOs. How they heard you amidst their own noise, you didn’t know. One thing was for certain, though. They were attuned to you like lovesick men did. Their eyes were on you with varying emotions. Jungkook was surprised, to say the least. Taehyung and Jimin, on the other hand, were relieved. Yoongi's smirk widened into a grin, his eyes sparkling with delight at the sight of you. Seokjin stared at you in disbelief, as if trying to comprehend how you managed to appear amidst the chaos. Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions reflecting a sense of contentment and joy. The pair looked like they secured an extremely important deal and even won the lottery at the same day.

You didn’t see Taehyung moved but you certainly felt how his heavy body fell against yours. You certainly heard his sigh of relief even as he swayed on his feet.

And when you touched his hand to support him, that was when he fell.

[charliemwrites]

Part 5

(Told y'all I was back!!!)

Content: Established BDSM Dynamics, Attempted Intimidation, Threats, Mild Violence and Injury

You suspect Konig gets off on watching you interact with others.

He’s an insecure man, there’s no doubt about that. He gets twitchy about other men interacting with you beyond brief, bland exchanges. A sleepy cashier at the grocery store? That’s fine. The waiter complimenting your choice of meal for some reason? Konig’s eyeing the steak knife.

That said, something about the way you are in a public setting has him constantly shifting. Practically squirming. And it’s not just social anxiety.

You smile at the employee that showed you where the towels are and Konig adjusts himself as soon as their back is turned. You politely brush off a mistake in your food order, his pupils spread like an oil spill.

You ask him about it one night, ever curious about this strange, obsessive creature clinging like remora.

“You are… very nice to people,” he explains slowly.

The two of you are doing a puzzle. You watch his big, calloused fingers fidget with a border piece. He’s forgotten to hand it to you while thinking, but you’re not in any rush.

“You are good at being… normal. No one knows that you are a killer. They can’t tell.”

You snort softly. “I am normal.”

He shoots you a skeptical look and you laugh. (Don’t miss how he flusters either.)

“Am I that different here than out there?” you wonder.

“Yes.”

You hum. Have never really considered that, but it makes sense. In privacy, you have nothing to react to. No faces to make or scripts to follow. You have Konig now but he’s different, there was never a reason to treat him like everyone else.

“So what about it arouses you?” you finally ask.

“That they don’t know.”

You don’t understand. You hardly ever do. You’re extra nice to the poor teenager that prepares your coffee next time you two go out. (You make Konig edge himself on the drive back home, then overstimulate him to near unconsciousness on the dining table.)

It’s not surprising, then, when he shyly asks if you’ll come meet some of his KorTac teammates.

He asks with his face smooshed between your thighs, nose crushed against your pubic mound. Just getting started, the taste of you already clouding his thoughts. The toe of your boot is nestled beneath his heavy balls; his voice pitches up proportional to the bend of your ankle.

“Why?” you ask, flat and emotionless. It makes him drool when you bleach the inflection from your voice, stripping it down to phonetics and fricatives. A drop of saliva trickles down your thigh. You twist your fingers in his hair, making him lick it up. (“Keep it tidy,” you’d told him. So far he’s barely managing, but he gets off on the struggle to please you.)

He mumbles something you can’t make out, so you force his head up and watch him blink. His swallows thickly, chin already glistening with slick, pink tongue lolling out across swollen lips.

“Again,” you command. Calm, even.

“I w-want them to meet you… if they can tell…”

You tilt your head. “If they can tell I’m a murderer?”

He whimpers, teeth sinking into his lip hard. You hitch your boot up, watch the tears collect in the corners of his eyes. Precum drip, drip, drips down his stomach from the vivid, weeping head of his straining cock.

“Is that all? You want me to meet your little friends with blood on my hands?” you coo.

He tries to nod, but your grip is far too tight. You click your tongue off the roof of your mouth. His hips jerk with the derisive sound.

“Or is it that you want to show off your owner?” you wonder. His eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. You huff in amusement as the pieces click into place.

“I see now.”

You cram his flushed face between your thighs again, grinding your pussy on the flat tongue he instantly presents.

“You want me to be a pretty, sweet thing. You want to show me off in some frilly sundress and play helpless civilian. I’ll shake their hands and they won’t know I’ve ripped a man’s guts out. I’ll smile pretending I haven’t bit someone’s finger off.”

He’s whining high and needy, rocking himself on the laces of your boots. You continue, rambling in a way you never do outside these moments.

“And you want me to do all that with my collar around your throat.” You press his face in tighter and close your thighs. “Maybe I should stab someone, huh? I’m sure I can find someone worth the effort.”

You feel the hot pinpricks of tears on your skin, his voice uncontrolled and breaking with desperation. He’s now arching his hips away and you know it’s because he’s trying not to cum. It’s a new rule you just recently established - that if he’s allowed access to your cunt, he gives it his full attention. Treats it like the rare and fleeting privilege it is.

All that just from your little tease.

The image is an intriguing one. You’ve never taken any pleasure from hiding your actions from others. But there is something almost… quaint, you suppose, about meeting men who kill for a living as a killer yourself. They’ll look at you and see Konig’s quiet civilian girlfriend. This will be a secret just for you and Konig. You’ve never had someone else know while you play a part.

An unexpected wave of pleasure knocks the breath out of you. You didn’t expect to find the prospect so…

“Fuck,” you whisper, blinking through stars. “I’ll meet your friends if you make me cum in the next thirty seconds.”

It takes him thirty-two, but considering the intensity of it, you decide to be generous.

You show up to base in a floral-print dress and pretty sandals. The key to Konig’s collar shines in the hollow of your throat on a dainty chain, prominently displayed. (His eyes keep skipping down to it. You pinch his thigh when he nearly misses a red light, chastising to be more careful. That only results in a plump outline down the thigh of his pants. Your mistake.) Hair done, a bit of makeup, you make for a nice character.

The head of Konig’s squad meets you first. Declan O’Conor, a shorter man who introduces himself with a wide smile, a rough Irish accent, and - most favorably - no appreciative glances at your body. Off to a surprisingly commendable start. You smile back and let Konig introduce you, eyes roaming the private KorTac compound.

Sleek black vehicles, modern-looking buildings. Distant pods of joggers on what looks like a training field. Even more distant sounds of guns. Passing personnel. Some of the men doing double takes, a couple of nudge-nudges. There’s not much of interest to you.

Declan shoos the two of you off after some pleasantries and an idea of where to find other members of Konig’s main squad.

You meet Aksel, Roze, Horangi, and Stiletto playing cards in one of the rec rooms. Roze teases Konig about finally bringing you ‘round. Aksel takes the initiative to stand to greet you - unnecessary, but not offensive. While his back is turned, Horangi peeks at his cards. You make eye contact with Stiletto when she notices as well and twitch your lips in a tiny, knowing smirk. Neither of you say a word.

Only two of them (Horangi and Roze) are on Konig’s usual team, but he’s worked with the other two before. You’re more interested in watching Konig interact with them. Like you, he tends to let others lead conversation in public - though the reasoning is different. At home, though, he usually initiates and you enjoy letting him talk and talk, only chiming in when asked for your opinion or reaction (or lack thereof).

Though you’re not left completely unincluded - the other KorTac members ask polite surface questions that you respond to automatically. It’s all habit, a performance you’ve given a thousand times, a veteran actor. You’ve perfected volume, pitch, inflection, spaces, down to the shape of your mouth as you speak. Your face is easier. People are good at expressions - too good. You hardly have to do anything to express easy-calm-friendly. Relaxed brows, a slight curve at the corners of your mouth, loose jaw. There: Konig’s normal, if shy, girlfriend.

When the two of you leave the rec room, Konig pulls you down a little side hallway and kisses desperately along your jaw.

“You are so good…” he mumbles breathlessly, “...so good at pretending.”

You snort, bemused. “Is that what it is?”

This is just being a person, out in the world. No one is their true selves around strangers, you thought. Is it so different when it’s you doing it?

He groans softly into your throat, mouthing at your necklace. “This will be harder than I thought.”

“We’re not fucking here,” you say.

“Yes, miss.”

You let him hide there for a moment longer, then usher him along to the next thing. He does manage to give you a decent tour of the facilities, telling you stories and explaining how KorTac does things.

You meet Hutch along the way, just a brief greeting in one of the halls. Again, not a usual member of Konig’s team but they’ve worked together before and Konig is full of pride and enthusiasm to show you off. (Maybe you’d be annoyed if his presentation was more “look what I bagged” rather than “look at who found me worthy”.)

It’s as he’s showing you one of the briefing rooms that you meet Krueger.

And you know, instantly. From the slow, exaggerated twice-over, to the obvious way he shifts his lower half, eyes lidded. You feel the mask of the day slip. 

“Is this the tail you’ve been chasing instead of your own, Bruder?” he asks, sauntering closer. He could say it in German - but he wanted you to hear it.

You blink once, slow.

Konig, at your side, hisses an embarrassed correction. Even with that ridiculous hood on, you know his face must be burning. You take a single, small step forward, meeting Krueger as he sidles up too close to be appropriate. You introduce yourself without offering a hand.

“Do you know what it is we do here, little girl?” he taunts. “What your boyfriend does?”

“Yes,” you answer.

“You know he is a sadistic fuck, eh? Can break a man’s spine over his knee.”

“It’s impressive,” you admit, shrugging.

He narrows his eyes, but it seems more mocking than challenging. He doesn’t think you are anything to take seriously. An interesting bauble to bat at and toy with, to see if you’ll jump or squeak for his entertainment. He cracks his neck and takes another step, the netting that hides his face playing shadows across what little skin is visible.

“Has he told you about me?” he asks, voice dipping.

He has. “Only some.”

He looms in closer, radiating menace. He’s a broad man, makes up for height with presence alone. Objectively intimidating, you suppose.

“Trying not to frighten you,” he coos, “what a sweet boyfriend.”

You hum, noncommittal. Not even sure if you can feel fear while conscious. In your nightmares, it’s visceral enough to taste - but it only ever lingers on the back of your tongue once you wake. After all, there’s nothing to fear among the living. Not anymore.

“Is there something to be frightened of?” you ask.

“I could tell you such tales,” he croons, bending his head to speak low and intimate. “Maybe even a demonstration… of the things they accuse me of…”

You see the flicker of his hand in the corner of your eye.

“Don’t touch me,” you warn.

He laughs, rust and dried blood. “Or what, little mouse?”

“You’ll regret it.”

You hear Konig shift behind you, though you can’t tell if it’s in preparation to intervene or out of pure arousal. Perhaps both.

“Is that a threat?” Krueger mocks.

You are under no delusions that you’re better equipped for a fight than him. He has more experience and training, he’ll win in an altercation, that’s just a fact. But you don’t have to win, that’s not what you’ve promised. You’ll just make him regret starting it in the first place.

You look him in the eye.

“Yes.”

His fingertips skim the strap of your dress. You lunge, slamming your forehead into his nose. It crunches. He jerks his hand back, instinctively reaching for his face, folding a bit. Point made, step back, adjusting your necklace into place again.

And then Konig reaches past you, snatching the shoulder of Krueger’s shirt and shaking him hard. He snarls out something in German, sending Krueger to his knees.

“I am sorry, miss,” he says to you fervently, “I am so sorry. I did not think - he is an asshole. I am sorry.”

You pat his arm, lean past his hulking form, still gripping Krueger now on his knees. You curl your fingers in the netted mask and jerk his head forward.

“This is the best way to stop the bleeding,” you say. “Don’t be rude again.”

He gurgles something out, you can’t even tell if it’s English or German. You release him and turn on your heel.

“The range is next, right?”

Konig is at your side instantly. “Yes, miss.”

You meet the last of Konig’s regular teammates outside the range. (You had to cut that little excursion short. Even seeing you with a gun in your hands had his knees shaky. You got through one magazine before he was making noises in the back of his throat. It took fifteen minutes for his erection to deflate a reasonable amount.)

He’s a big man, covered from head to toe in black tactical gear - again, with a mask. Coming in with a sniper rifle over his shoulder as you and Konig are leaving. His name is Nikto. You meet his eyes as you smile and nod in greeting, Konig introducing you like before.

Maybe you haven’t quite sunk back into your Normalness yet, or perhaps Not Quite People recognize each other. But he takes one look at you and knows. You know too. 

Apropos nothing, he offers you a wicked knife, hilt first. Your fingers don’t touch as you take it.

“For your next hunt,” he rumbles. “Konig is lucky.”

You blink as he walks off, glance at the blade in your hand. “It’s nice.”

Konig fidgets, staring after Nikto. “How did he know?”

You shrug.

Konig turns back to you, nervousness swirling. “Are you worried?”

You snort. “No.”

Why would a bear bother a mountain lion?

That night, you lay Konig down and grind your dripping pussy along the rigid length of his cock. He twists his fingers tight in the bed sheets (you already hear them tearing; you have spares for this) and cries while you recount every part of the day as if he wasn’t there with you. He’s stark naked, vulnerable, trembling while your dress drapes over your thighs, obscuring the obscene view of his cockhead rubbing your puffy clit.

He begs in intervals but you just keep speaking over him, recounting needless details like building names and the food served in the cafeteria. When you reach the end of the visit, you lean down. Propping yourself on his chest, you speak soft and syrupy warm into his ear.

“You did so well handling Krueger today. Such a good boy, keeping him down for me. I’m proud of you for knowing to wait. My good guard dog.”

He dissolves into a puddle in seconds, weakly asking permission to please, please, please let him cum early just this once.

You let him.

In gratitude, he eats you out until you fall asleep.

First | Previous | TBC...

Masterlist

[lucysarah-c]

“Then Lauren said—”

“Stop eating my carrots!” Levi slapped her hand away from the bowl.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, pouting at him as she remained seated on the countertop. She caressed her hand, but the pain wasn't real. “Why?” she complained, playfully pretending to be hurt.

“Because I’m trying to make myself dinner,” he replied, continuing to slice up the vegetables. He momentarily pointed with his knife toward the boiling stew on the stove. “And when I asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Levi added, pushing the chopped vegetables into the bowl.

His stern gaze was quick to return when she grabbed another carrot slice. “I’m not hungry,” she insisted with her mouth full.

Levi maintained his stoic expression, one hand resting on his hip. “Is this going to be one of those times where I ask if you want something to eat, you say you’re not hungry, and then you end up eating half of my meal?”

There was a brief, intense silence until she swallowed her food and replied, “I never do that.”

Levi simply sighed and bent to pick up an extra batch of ingredients.

“Where’s your squad?” Y/N asked as she swung her legs on the countertop. Levi kept cooking, both of them enveloped in the dim light of the almost deserted kitchen.

“No idea,” Levi replied quickly. “Until tomorrow’s morning practice at 6, they’re not my responsibility.”

His girlfriend chuckled. “I bet they’re getting drunk downtown.”

“Good for them. As long as they don’t break anything that belongs to me and they’re on time tomorrow, they can get as shit-faced as they please.”

“What if they break something in the barracks?” she insisted playfully.

“Those budget issues are Erwin’s problems,” Levi said.

She laughed softly, her laughter echoing in the empty, massive room meant to hold many more soldiers than just the two of them. “I went downtown. I met up with friends from other divisions, had lunch, went shopping, had tea, saw a theater presentation, and then had dinner. What did you do all day?”

“I did a deep cleaning of our chambers,” Levi replied, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Something you were obviously not going to do. I did laundry, cleaned everything—even the clothes I was wearing. So, I lounged in my boxers in my desk chair, catching up with a book and drinking tea. When it got dark, I turned on a light, swapped the tea for whiskey, and kept reading. I spent my free day reading, having zero human interactions, and not dealing with anyone’s shitty problems. Best free day I’ve had in months.”

“Does that mean you’re done with your tasks for the day?” she asked playfully, giving him a sly look despite him being engrossed in his cooking.

Levi quickly replied, “Don’t worry, I still have plenty of time to do you, girly.” The words didn’t match his uninterested tone and expression.

But it made her chuckle anyway, mostly out of embarrassment. She softly hit his arm and complained, “Levi! A cadet might hear you.”

A subtle smirk appeared on his face, but not much more. There was a brief, comfortable silence as he put the ingredients into the boiling water and stirred them around.

“You know, I want your opinion about something Juliet told me. So I want you to be honest, be yourself,” Y/N commented. Levi simply hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on his upcoming dinner. “But be nice,” she warned him.

Levi stopped stirring his meal, looked up at her, and said, “I can’t be both.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. She’s dating a new guy… and I don’t think he’s good for her.”

“Like the last ten guys,” he interrupted her, “in the last eight months?”

Levi wasn’t a social person, but he was certainly up to date with his girlfriend’s gossip.

“Hey! Are you slut-shaming my friend?”

“No, your friend can sleep with the entire male population of the walls if she pleases,” Levi said casually as he moved around the kitchen. “But she has this tendency to think each one is the love of her life, and they last two weeks.”

Y/N couldn’t deny it. She sighed loudly. “She’s… a hopeless romantic.”

“Daddy issues.”

She snorted and then chuckled. “Hey! She’s my friend!” Y/N tried to defend her, but there was no conviction in her words. “…She used to have a crush on Erwin, remember?”

“Exactly. Having a crush on Erwin is the definition of daddy issues,” Levi said with a playful smile as his girlfriend burst into laughter. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no.”

Returning to stirring before heading back to the kitchen board to cut the potatoes, Levi asked, “So?”

“Oh yes,” Y/N caught herself and continued, “Well… she’s seeing this new guy. He’s in his mid-thirties, and the way she described him made me realize he’s a fuckboy and—”

“A fuckboy?” Levi quickly snapped, looking at his girlfriend, who simply hummed back, not understanding his reaction. “God,” Levi raised his hand to press on the bridge of his nose and slightly shook his head. “Your friend really has a radar for choosing the worst dudes out there.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” she complained. “Let me finish!”

“There’s nothing to finish,” he said. “A fuckboy, for fuck’s sake,” Levi repeated under his breath, almost cursing at the idea.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“A fuckboy, Y/N, really?” He repeated, louder this time, as if trying to make her see reason. Not sensing her understanding, he sighed loudly. “I was a fuckboy when I was 18, maybe even into my mid 20s. Yeah, maybe I fought the MPs in the underground, smoked around, got drunk, had a bunch of casual sex, and got high with Farlan. But I was 18!”

“What does that have to do with any of this—”

Levi quickly interrupted, “18! You can be a fuckboy at 18, maybe until your mid-20s,” he said. “You can’t be a shitty fuckboy in your mid-thirties! That’s not a fuckboy, that’s an unstable, immature, stupid dude,” Levi explained as his girlfriend burst into laughter, with him continuing to curse under his breath. “At this rate, he’s having a fucking midlife crisis, not being a fuckboy.”

Her girlfriend kept laughing, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "So. What is the fucking issue? Don't tell me your shitty friend got knocked up by that idiot."

Y/N kept laughing, tears running down her cheeks as she tried to calm down. “No,” she whispered out of breath between laughs, “it’s the opposite.”

Levi raised an eyebrow silently, questioning what she meant.

“He couldn’t get it up.”

It was Levi’s turn to chuckle. “Well… you definitely can’t be a fuckboy if you can’t get it hard… that’s for sure.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[foldingfittedsheets]

When we’re out and about and I open tumblr my wife will often ask what I’m doing. There’s a couple reasons I’ll open it reflexively. Sometimes the environment is overstimulating and I’m narrowing my focus to a phone screen to help. Sometimes I’m bored. I’m also possibly just a little addicted to tumblr.

But often I want to catch up on my notes because I’ve gotten to a point that leaving my phone unchecked for too long leaves me under a pile of notifications and I don’t want to miss someone’s comment or ignore anybody. I know that day is coming where I have to accept I’m getting too much interaction to keep up but I’m unemployed and committed at the moment.

Regardless, I always tell them I’m “emptying the tank.” I think of it like tipping out the notes I’ve seen so it’s a blank slate.

They really hate it.

“Can you please call it something else? It’s weird.”

I smile at them with love and they understand that I will not be calling it something else.

[autball]

Part 4 of a 5 part series about the ways harmful practices can be made to sound appealing and how to spot the differences between helpful and harmful approaches.

Sensory sensitivities are a huge part of being autistic (and sometimes ADHD, too). They can range from kind of annoying but manageable to debilitating and meltdown-inducing. They can fluctuate from day to day and situation to situation. They can seem to pop up one day out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly.

Sensory differences are dynamic, which can make them unpredictable and disruptive. Not many people want to live that way, so working on sensory desensitization with someone who has a lot of sensitivities sounds like a thing that could help. Fewer meltdowns and able to do more things? Yes please!

But as you might have guessed, there’s a giant problem with that: reducing sensitivity isn’t really a thing you can do TO someone. At least, not without inducing a trauma response or two. You can certainly get someone to learn to ignore their own body signals or pretend to be fine when they’re not, but that’s not a sensory thing. That’s a dissociation thing.

“Sensory desensitization” is usually code for exposure therapy. Exposure therapy has its uses, but addressing legitimate sensory issues isn’t one of them. And it should only be done WITH someone who can fully consent and actively participate. Coercing and/or forcing someone to interact with distressing sensory input until they stop reacting is not that.

“Sensory desensitization” also operates under the assumption that people just get used to, or habituate to, the noises and sensations around them, even ones that bother them. But studies have shown that autistic people actually don’t habituate to sensory stimuli the way non-autistic people do. It may take way longer to happen, or it may never happen at all.

You know what can and does happen? Sensory sensitivities can just kinda…change. All on their own. We grow up, our hormones change, our stress levels change, our environments change, and our sensory profiles are affected by all of those things (and more!). Sensitivities can just disappear, naturally, without any intervention. And that’s about the only thing I’d ever refer to as real sensory desensitization.

But sensory sensitivities can go any which way. Maybe new ones rear their ugly heads. Or maybe something bothers us at a level 7 one day and 2 the next, then goes all the way up to 11 next week. And then there are the ones that just stay pretty much the same, all the time, forever.

I could not handle pants for a long time as a kid, but then somewhere along the way, I could. I really couldn’t tell you when it happened. There are some foods that used to make me gag that no longer do, and there are some that I still just cannot handle. I have never been okay with things that stick to my hands, and that really hasn't changed since as far back as I can remember. 

You know what all these sensory sensitivities have in common? Someone made me “tolerate” them at some point, often repeatedly. And none of them changed (or didn’t) because of repeated exposure, but because of my natural development. All I got from forced exposure was this lousy tendency to disconnect from myself.

Sensory desensitization is just not a thing we should be trying to do to people. Sensory *integration* is a real thing that can help people, but that is a whole different animal that requires more than just exposing people to stuff that bothers them. You’ll need an OT (Occupational Therapist) with the specialized training for that. Just make sure they’re not sneaking behaviorism tactics or exposure therapy in there either (yep, the words “sensory integration” can be used to misrepresent what they’re doing, too).

It is a far better thing to help someone learn about their own sensory profile and how to manage their sensory needs than to make them ignore their own body signals. Alexithymia is not #goals.

[aajjks]

TEACH ME (m)

synopsis. Teach me.. that’s what he says everytime he’s got his fingers deep inside you.

trope: age gap [10 years] yandere, forbidden relationship and cheating.

warnings. f-ngering, expl-cit themes, pr-fanity, he’s got a filthy mouth, f-rbidden r-lationship [teach-r x st-dent], y-ndere jk, p-sessive beh-viour, j-alousy, ch-ating, m-oning strict 18+ THEMES. MDNÏ.

note. PHEWWWWWW 🫠🫡🥵… YALL….. this is for all the horny girls on my blog. ONLY FOR YOU!! I think this is not gonna be a series but just a one shot and I hope to get it out soon but I wanted to put out a teaser and please talk to him and I just know you’re gonna love him because I know you guys have some fucked up fantasies. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS. I LOVE READING YOUR THOUGHTS AND YOUR ASKS also YALL the colored gradient text looks so pretty 🥹🥹🥹

note 2.0. This is strictly for 18+ so please do not interact if you’re underage. [TEASER]

If you wanna be tagged, please reply under this post x

“Hahaha what??”

Jungkook walks to your figure, you’re standing behind your desk, your back leaning against the blackboard, he knows you’ve said something really important right now but…

How the fuck is he supposed to take you seriously when your tits are practically popping out of your right dress shirt? Or the pencil skirt that is clinging onto your ass like second skin?

Goodness you’re so fucking hot, his cock is practically pulsing inside his underwear.

“Ms yn… what?” He manages to say, now towering over your smaller figure, you glare at him, swear tickling down your forehead.

“It’s Mrs Jeong for you!”

“Ms yn…. No.” Jungkook rolls his eyes as he closes the distance between you two, there’s no one in this empty university hallway, your door is closed,

Jungkooks eyes are set on you like a predator and the way your breathing is irregular suddenly, makes him feel superior to you despite your age difference of 10 years.

“Sorry that’s almost sounds like you said Mrs Jeon…. Haha… so similar won’t you agree?” His chest is now touching yours, his eyes contain a carnal hunger for you.

“I’m sorry but that can’t happen, yn.” He tsks, feigning disappointment, like he’s sympathizing with you, but you know better.

Jungkook knows that you know him better than anyone.

You know him so deeply and so intimately.

Jungkook forces his knee between your legs, spreading them, you gasp, he smirks.

“How dare you try to abandon me huh? I don’t give a fuck- NO JUNGKOOK YOU DONT UNDERSTAND I-I CANT COMPROMISE- shhh.” He presses his finger on your tinted lips.

He guides his hand down your panties, playing with the hem of it, “n-no jungkook please don’t-“” jungkook doesn’t stop, “listen yn- or Mrs Jeong.” He grits his teeth while spitting your last name out,

“I don’t give a FUCK ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC HUSBAND! OR YOUR SHAM OF A MARRIAGE!” He seethes,

“How pathetic you are huh?” he bites his tongue before speaking. “You sleep on that very bed with your stupid husband where I’ve made you cum so many fuckin times huh?” He tugs your panties down roughly.

You need a reminder of who you belong to, and he will gladly do it right here in this classroom.

“J-JUNGKOOK What are you doing?” You stutter, he rolls his eyes.

You know damn well what he’s doing. “Oh ms yn. You should know damn well and what I’m doing. Because your body knows it.” He smiles, almost cruelly at you.

He starts to tease your wet pooling heat, his fingers skilled as he starts to move them around your clit.

“nghh nooo..” you can’t even hold your moans at this point. He gets your sexual frustration. Your pathetic excuse of husband can never please you.

Your brain & your heart, and especially your pussy are currently fighting with each other right now disagreeing with what you really want and what you should do.

arguing with you between what’s wrong and what’s right.

“Oh come on ms yn- you’re soaking wet for me..” he plunges his fingers inside your inviting cunt.

“Oh yes moan for me…” he groans, whispering in your ear.

Your eyes are at the verge of rolling back he fucks you with his calloused fingers. “Divorce the bastard and I’ll let you cum.”

He pumps them in and out of you- teasing you.

Jungkook licks the side of your neck, grunting in your ear.

“If you won’t divorce him I’ll murder him and then fuck you right infront of his rotting corpse.”

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape.

based on last friday’s video bc im obsessed with it. (events that happened in the vlog may not be in order just so the story flows how i want, also might add or get rid of some things for that same reason ofc). definitely gonna be multiple parts if yall like it so please let me know!!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

a/n: sorry guys but i think im scrapping all my old fics. i just have lost interest in them and i dont want to give yall something that i just half assed yk. i just need something new 😖🙏 don’t hate me pls. also i didn’t proof read and i never do so hopefully this all makes sense LMAO

……………………..

“BOYS TRIP!” chris shouts through the house.

the triplets are back in boston from being in la. i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t wish that these visits would last forever. being across the country from my best friends sucked.

“oh yeah , and you’ll be there too. you’re one of the boys.” chris points at me, smiling before loading the car with our bags.

“chris please never say that again.” i cringe, but fail to keep in my laughter.

“i agree. that was disgusting.” nick chimes in.

“just wanted to make sure you know you’re included.” chris throws his hands up in defense.

“thanks.” i smile and shake my head before getting in the car.

we were staying at their house in cape cod, something all of us looked forward to each summer growing up.

we arrive at nate’s house to pick him up. after the group effort of showering him in compliments for his new hair cut, we get back in the car.

sandwiched between nick and nathan, i check the time on my phone. nick grabs my wrist and moves it out of the way to give himself a better view of my lock screen.

“that is such a cute picture.” he says admiringly. it was a picture of matt and i. the picture was taken from behind while matt gave a piggy back ride back to the car because my feet hurt from wearing heels to madison’s concert.

“you took it.” i laugh.

“i know. i really out did myself huh.” he hypes himself up. i smile and roll my eyes.

once we get to the cape house, we unload the car. all of our bags scattered haphazardly throughout our respective rooms. the same rooms each of us have stayed in for years. nate with chris, nick with matt, and me, having been the only girl, with my own room.

“let’s go to the beach!” nate walks out into the kitchen, clapping his hands together.

…

the beach was just within walking distance. matt and i fell behind the rest of the group.

“i’m so glad you’re back.” i tell him.

“me too. i missed you.” he replies.

“i missed you too.” i admit. “a lot.” i look up and meet his eyes. we just stare at each other for a second. we didn’t really need to say anything. it was almost just a mutual understanding that each other were our favorite person.

if only he knew the extent.

the only person i’ve confided in about my feelings for matt was nate. which was precisely why he kept shooting me knowing glances anytime matt and interacted. nate swore that he knew i was in love with matt for years, before i even knew myself.

i can’t exactly pinpoint when i fell in love with my best friend, but i do remember when i realized.

flashback

matt and i sit together in the hammock string between two large oak trees in the backyard of the cape house. the gentle breeze swaying us back and forth softly. the sun was going down just to the right of us. beautiful pink and orange hues paint the sky.

“i could stay right here forever.” matt breaks the silence that had fallen between us.

“me too.” i reply softly.

“oh hey i have something for you” he digs his hand around in his pocket and pulls out a baby pink seashell. he hands it it me.

“i’ve never seen a pink one like that before.” he tells me as i admire the gift.

“me either. i love it. thanks matt.” i smile sweetly at him.

“of course.” he returns the smile.

i feel the heartbeat in my chest racing and my cheeks heating up. the feeling i had been carrying around with me for quite some time became abundantly clear.

i was in love with my best friend.

when i got home that night, i tied a string around the shell, and wore it as a necklace. and i haven’t taken it off since.

end of flashback

that was back when we were 16. 4 whole years i’ve gone hiding my biggest secret from the one person i told everything to.

our gaze was interrupted by chris. “jesus, yall are some slow pokes” he hollers back at us.

we both laugh and pick up out pace.

soon we arrive at the beach. i’ve always loved the beach. it truly is my happy place.

especially when i’m with matt.

nick snaps pictures here and there.

“oh my gosh matt look! this is just like your tattoo!” i hold out a shell to him.

“oh shit you’re right.” he holds out his arm, revealing his tattoo.

“that’s sick.” chris admires the similarity while nick takes a picture.

…

later that night, we all sit in the living room debating on what movie to watch.

“chris im not watching planet of the apes again. we’ve watched it like 9 times already.” nick argues, shutting down chris’s pleads.

“how about grown ups?” matt suggests.

“yes i love that movie.” nate agrees.

“that’s fine with me.” nick shrugs and starts typing it in.

“is that good with you?” matt leans down to where i was sitting in front of him, his voice soft and genuine.

“yeah that’s good with me.” i tell him.

he smiles and pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing me to come sit up there with him. i stand up from my spot on the floor and sit down next to him. he drapes a blanket over the both of us.

about an hour or so into the movie, my eyes get heavy. i lean my head on matt’s shoulder, to which he responds with wrapping his arm around me. this was nothing out of the ordinary. there’s pictures going back to when we were in preschool of the two of us practically fused together passed out on the living room floor.

suddenly, a gentle shake of my shoulders woke me up from a sleep i hadn’t even known i fell into. my eyes flutter, slowly regaining focus. when they do, i’m met with matt’s gentle blue eyes.

“hey, you wanna go lay down in your bed? i don’t want your neck to be sore.” he asks, genuinely concerned for my comfort.

i look around, everyone else appeared to have gone into their rooms.

“yeah i probably should.” i say through a yawn.

matt grabs my hand and helps me stand up from the couch. we walk down the hallway. my room came before his and nicks.

“goodnight matt.” i say, slowly turning the doorknob.

“goodnight y/n. see ya in the morning.”

i toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. i stand up from bed, and leave my room. slowly making my way to the kitchen to get a drink, careful to not wake anyone up.

i open the fridge and grab a water. before i can take a sip, i hear a familiar voice behind me.

“can’t sleep?” the sudden breach of silence made me jump a little. i turn around and see matt. he was leaned up against the door frame. his sweatpants falling dangerously low on his figure, his arm under his shirt itching his shoulder, exposing his midriff.

“nope. you?” i set my water down on the counter.

“hm mm” he replies.

we stand in silence for a few moments before matt breaks the silence again.

“wanna go to the beach?”

….

a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF YALL LIKE THIS. SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS WELCOME AND MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN 🙏 i’m using my old taglist, so lmk if you want taken off or added to it!

taglist: @honestlybabymiracle @pepsiimaxx @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattestrella @luvmxtt @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can I request John Constantine fic where the reader is a eldritch or an angel that's known the league for a while or they capture them but John knows them.

I'm a literal whore for that man 👹

John Constantine x Angel male reader

Headcanons

Reader’s bit of a black sheep amongst angels, cuz I feel like Constantine would go great with a bit of a rebel.

its honestly taken me too long to realize that lucifer from the show is the same lucifer as in the DC comics.

You had a bit of a past with John Constantine, with you being a bit of a rulebreaker amongst the angels and all. I mean, you still went to visit your brother Lucifer on the regular, even if you had been told not to.

Michael had scolded you more times than you could count, telling you not to pop in and out of hell as you please just because you want too, or to not just teleport to earth willy-nilly when Lucifer relocated there for a while.

It was at Lucifers club that you met Constantine for the first time. You didn’t really speak to him, but you did see how he seemed to truly get on your older brothers’ nerves, so you already liked him for that alone.

After the blonde Brit left, Lucifer would give you the whole spiel about him, complaining about how many times he had sold his soul, and all the trouble his actions caused in hell, and how much paperwork the blonde gave him.

After that you bump into him in other places. You like to party, you like to fight, you like to be a nuisance. And its not like anybody can stop an angel as powerful as yourself if they wanted. They’re lucky you just like to be annoying by nature and that you aren’t actually evil.

It ends up with you getting mixed up in some of the things Constantine get up too, even if its by accident because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You always just know that Michael is gonna be on your neck when you get back to heaven after each time, but hanging out with John is worth it.

Hes tried to get you drunk so many times, but it never works no matter what kind of stuff he pulls out of his coat. Being angelic doesn’t really allow you to be weakened by something as small as alcohol. But its fun to see him try anyways.

In the eyes of your siblings, even Lucifer, Constantine is a bad influence, and they’ll scold you for spending so much time with a mortal, especially someone as twisted on the ledgers as Constantine. You just always shrug, flutter your wings, and fly off to do whatever it is you do. Being the youngest has its perks, since it means you get away with quite a lot.

It was also this carefree attitude that got you caught and locked up by the league. They hadn’t dealt with many angels before, so in the beginning they think you are something else. Be It a mutant or a spirit.

You could easily escape if you wanted too. Something as weak as a man-made structure wasn’t gonna hold you, but you had been bored for weeks now, so why not see what happens. You do get pretty annoyed when they talk about you like you cant hear them. They don’t know you can hear them, but still.

Zatanna easily spots that you are of divine descent, but just how far up in the hierarchy you are is a bit lost to her, since they still believe you can be captured by human means. This is why they’re forced to call in Constantine, since hes the only one they know who regularly interacts with an angel.

The Brit has a good laugh when he sees you sitting on the floor in a cell pouting, your wings wrapped around you like a cocoon. At this point you just phase out of the cell to flick Constantine in the temple for laughing at you.

John is the one that has to explain that you could have escaped the entire time if you wanted, you were just a dick that got bored easily. The dick comment makes you huff and smack him with your wing.

After all that is cleared up, the two of you go out to drink like usual. I could imagine the league trying to figure out if you’d be willing to help them when times are tough, but to their dismay you just shrug and give a “if I feel like it”.

Constantine will later explain to them in passing, mainly to roast you, that you are the youngest, which means that you aren’t used to real work and can just do whatever you want, cuz all your older siblings baby you.

His chair disappears from right under him for that comment, so the league takes it with a grain of salt. In the end you help out if there really is no other way, since angels shouldn’t interfere with minor issues.

Most of the time on earth you spend with John though, since he matches your wavelength and isn’t freaked out by the whole angel thing.

[picturingchappell]

ditto — e. williams

!! PLEASE READ BEFORE INTERACTING !! - Its still imperative that you do anything you can to support Palestine. You can help by doing your daily click, or reviewing this masterlist. You can also help by not buying TLOU, and here’s why.

aestras notes: WOOOOO GUESS WHO FINALLY DROPPED??? THIS GUY!!!!!! 😝😝😝 tried something new for the banner this time, i think it looks okay. 🙂‍↕️ anyways!!! everyone thank @softlysunrays for encouraging me yawp yawp!!!!

tags: loser!ellie, theatre kid!dina agenda, modern au sorta?, i suck at tagging a year later, ellie is a nervous wreck, italics indicate internal monologue (most of the time), fluff(?), one small use of y/n, okay that’s it i think

Ellie might’ve had a little thing for you — probably more than just a little thing, because you’d occupy most of the space in her brain 99% of the time. And she was, unceremoniously, an incredibly big loser. She never speaks to you directly, instead stealing glances at you during passing periods or watching you from afar whenever you’d been hanging out with your other friends. 

The hallways always seemed to be cramped and crowded, but not crowded enough that she couldn’t see you. Something about you made her always recognize it was you. 

Standing at her locker, she’d been joined by Dina as she’d been grabbing some things from her backpack. The hallways were bustling with chatter and bodies, but it seemed to only be them right now.

Dina looks at Ellie as her locker shuts with a small smirk. “I saw you staring at her again.” She teases. “You’ve got it bad!” Dina pokes her softly. She sings a cheesy love song, to which Ellie groans and puts a hand on her forehead. “You’re gonna make me die of embarrassment.” She mumbles.

Dina laughs at her, putting an arm over her shoulders. “Look at you, all grown up and having a little crush.” She says theatrically, wiping fake tears. Ellie chuckles to herself as she looks down at her canvas sneakers. 

“Yknow, I could introduce you to her.” Dina mentions without much thought. If Ellie had water in her mouth, she would’ve spit it out dramatically. She stands as stiff as a board as she turns to look at Dina. “Really? I mean — you’re serious? Like 100%?” Ellie seemed excited, but god was she nervous at the thought. 

“Yeah, totally! You can sprinkle your little loser dust on her in hopes that you absolutely woo her.” Dina throws her head back dramatically with the back of her hand on her forehead. The pair chuckle slightly at Dina’s antics.

Ellie still couldn’t believe that Dina knew her. Like, a majorly pretty girl? “Pinch me.” Ellie says, clearly in some state of disbelief. “I think I’m dreaming.” Dina pinches her on the cheek and she smiles. “You’re awake, Ellie! It’s me — Dina in the flesh!” Dina smiles at her.

“Dina, I’ve been like, dreaming of this since school started. I will come to your house later. Just please don’t be lying about this.” Ellie did dream about you a lot, and she always wished she didn’t wake up before the good parts. But she always did, so she woke up sulking all morning.

Even when the passing period had ended, she couldn’t stop creating scenarios about the two of you in her head. Well, the two of you and Dina. Cause she’d be there too. Ellie would feel bad to leave her out.

She knew that this was super cliche but she liked how cliche it was in some odd way. 

She was staring out of a window with her earphone in, tapping her gnawed up pencil against a wooden desk as she listened to songs that reminded her of you.

Which was, obviously, most of the music she’d ever listen to now because she was just that in love with you. She had it bad. Super bad. Actually, no word could describe it.

Once she started dreaming about you, she knew she was doomed. Even more so now that she’ll actually talk to you.

The anxiety of meeting a pretty girl like you sets in. What if she thinks I’m too weird? But she’s friends with Dina.. maybe it’ll be okay. This is so stupid. God, just focus on her! Her internal monologue was a flurry of ‘you got this’ and ‘don’t be a total loser’.

All of that literally goes out the window the second she makes it to Dina’s house.

As usual, Dina’s home was cluttered but homey, and the walls were covered with Dina in various grades performing in school musicals. Ride The Cyclone, Heathers, all that kinda stuff that she has little to no knowledge of.

“She’s waiting in my room — and stand up straight or something. Body language is important.” Dina says, leading her up the creaky stairs. Ellie almost didn’t hear what Dina was saying as they got closer to her room.

She’s in there! Right there! She thought, a smile creeping onto her face. The door of Dina’s room swings open and there you were, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“This is who I was telling you about! Y/N, this is Ellie. Ellie, Y/N.” Dina smiles at both of you brightly. “Hi!” Ellie blurts out, her voice cracking slightly. She instantly feels embarrassed and clears her throat. “Hello. How are you?” She attempts to reapproach the conversation, but when she saw that you’d been already chuckling and smiling, all her affirmations were lost to her.

“I’m fine. And you?” You asked, smiling at her. “I’m.. I’m good. Totally chilling right now, yeah.” Ellie rambles nervously. 

She kinda just stands there awkwardly until she thinks about another question. “How’d you uh, meet Dina?” She asks, rocking back and forth awkwardly on her heels. “We’re in the same theater class. And you,” 

You point at her. “You’ve known her since like, forever, right?” She says to Dina, eliciting a soft hum from the girl. You smile at Dina. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.” 

Upon hearing that, Ellie snaps her head around to look at Dina. Her eyes scream “don’t leave me here”. Dina smiles remorsefully before leaving the room.

So now it was just Ellie and you. Staring at eachother while birds chirped softly in the distance. Ellie smiles awkwardly. You chuckle at her. “Are you usually this nervous?” You ask, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“..Yes, but not really?” Ellie would never in a million years admit the big fat crush she had on you, not now that you were sitting infront of her. “Well, I’m not gonna like, eat you or anything. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“That’s easier said than done when you’re that pretty.” Ellie mumbled to herself. “What was that you said? You think I’m pretty?” You ask, smiling brightly. When she realizes you’d heard that part, she becomes incredibly flustered. She smashes her face into the palms of her hands as her cheeks become flushed. 

“I’m truly flattered! It means a lot coming from another pretty girl.” Ellie stood breathing for a moment. She thinks I’m pretty? She thinks I’m pretty?! She truly wants to jump for joy but she doesn’t. Instead she just stares at you.

Once you stand up and start walking towards her, she gets even more nervous because you smell like heaven. “I think we should get to know eachother more.” You suggest as you look at her. “I’ll give you my number.”

“Your number?” She blurts, excitement underlying her tone. “Yeah! It’s no biggie.” You say as you reach for your phone that was previously on the charger.

When you both eventually exchanged numbers, Ellie was staring at your contact in awe. Maybe you were talking to her but she was in her own little world.

She’d finally done it — talked to the girl she’d had a crush on literally all year. And somehow pulled it off enough to get her number.

Has Ellie wooed you? She didn’t know. Were you definitely looking forward to talking to her? Hell yeah you were.

“So I guess I’ll talk to you very soon then?” You raise an eyebrow at her with a smile on your face. Very soon? That could mean tonight! “Yeah, yeah totally. Call me whenever. I’m always free, yknow, never busy.” Ellie said, forming an awkward smile.

I basically just told her I have no hobbies or many friends! How charming is that? Way to go, Ellie. She internally cringes at herself. “Good to know. Bye Ellie.” You wave at her before leaving Dina’s room.

The door shuts and Dina runs up the stairs. “Oh she’s definitely into you.” She exclaims, holding Ellie’s hands. “I’m proud of you for putting your big girl pants on.” Ellie looks at Dina with a stupid smile. “She’s into me.” She mumbled with a starstruck expression. “She’s into me!” She repeats, smiling. I really hope that’s true. She thinks excitedly, squeezing Dina’s hands while looking at her.

[aryaqua-reh2o]

Blitzø's Eyes in The Full Moon

Overanalysing the last 5 minutes of The Full Moon, Blitzø edition.

We know that Blitzø has massive issues and he mainly deals with them by putting on a facade and keeping his walls up. During the interaction with Stolas in the end there are a few moments where his eyes speak volumes because as hard as he tries, he can’t completely hide his true self and how he feels. 

Whenever he is sincere his eyes glow, and when he is scared he shows a little line near his pupils. 

The first moment of sincerity is when Stolas takes the book away:

B: Please Stolas, I need this book, please!

He is honest here, I’d say he is worried but… I’ve seen many people saying he is scared of losing his access to the human world and the ability to provide for himself, Loona and M&M, but he actually never mentions his business, he just repeats he needs this book. Twice. So of course the book is crucial for his business survival, but is it all? I don’t think Blitzø here is talking about his job. I think he’s already scared of being rejected by Stolas. For as much as it has been pointed out that he cares deeply for his daughter and employees, I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t mention them or his business here, and also now the man is back on good terms with his friend Fizz and also Asmodeus himself, would it be that hard to get a crystal from them directly? The book is just an excuse IMO.

- Stares in awe - His reaction here is disbelief. He can’t hide how deeply touched he is by Stolas’ gesture.

S: You no longer need my Grimoire

B: Whaaaat?

Then, even if not eye-related, we have the clear tail twitch that betrays his insecurity

B: Because I can always… I can always do better!

Then Stolas reassures him and… he basically confesses his love to Blitzø

S: Blitzø, I’m giving you this because I care very deeply for you, and I have for some time. 

Finally fear appears for the first time in Blitzø’s eyes and it’s at this exact moment. The deal is broken and Blitzø can’t use it anymore to hide behind it.

S: You don’t have to stay here with me

Finally, just a few seconds from the disaster, we see, if only just for a moment, Blitzø’s eyes glowing and a thin line near his pupil.

S: Only if you want to

He understands, he knows what Stolas is saying, he knows he is honest and Blitzø is scared of it so he tries to run away, to build his walls back up and the only way he knows is through sex and faking. (let's not talk about what happens next...)

S: …Even if only for a little while.

Blitzø realises he screwed up bad and Stolas shut down completely. 

From here he loses his eye glow, but we see fear two more times, here:

B: Wait… what? You were serious??

And here, but I’d say it looks more like terror to me:

S: Goodbye Blitzø.

I have no idea what the point of this extra-long post is, I just needed to do it. 

[knavesflames]

demon arle corrupting angel reader?

🌸 anon

Hi 🌸 anon!! This makes me shdlfbdj I hope I can do it justice!! By the way, I do love when you guys post in my box and I’m totally open to anons!! (I love seeing other people get anons i think it’s sweet) I appreciate every interaction I get <3

Word count: 786

Content: religious motifs, corruption, cunnilingus (reader receiving)

[scheduled post]

Nsft utc!

“Your wings are so pretty.”

She muses as she circles you, eyeing you like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And there you are, standing there in fear as she holds the weapon that can so easily clip your wings and render you useless, stuck in the limbo between heaven and hell forever while she gets claim another soul. Of course, she takes great pride in her little trophies from the souls of all the angels she has played with. Or rather, ruined. Different feathers stolen from wings, pieces of clothing, even stolen a halo from an angel. They all sit on what can only be described as a shrine.

Her dark, blood red wings brush your own and her breath catches. It seems her wings are sensitive, her eyes piercing into yours as she regains her composure. She’s the perfect image of a demon, large horns that look like they could slice you with how sharp they are, claws that could rip out your guts if she tried. Skin as black as the soot that remains after she burns a soul with a thousand flames. Intricate markings that you can’t quite tell are birthmarks or have been branded on her. You’re not sure you want to know.

Said claws poke your halo and you wince, your hand coming up to hold it, and your eyes stare her down. Glowing white, just like your wings and the yellow glow of the halo that rests atop your head.

“Don’t touch me, please.”

“I have the power here, little angel. If you were meant to have the power, God wouldn’t have left you here.”

You shake your head in protest, your wings fluttering as they rest on your back, away and out of her clawed grasp.

“I am an angel.”

“An angel, you say. No, I think you’re more like me than you realise.”

“You are a sinner.”

“And you are not?”

She chuckles, a chuckle that sends a shiver through your body. The dim light makes her look positively evil, her hands moving in the air as she plays with the flames she creates. You struggle to understand what the burning sensation in your stomach is when her fingers trail over your skin, sliding against your waist.

“You have a desire for me. Lust. It is a sin, no? Have you not thought about my fingers moving elsewhere, or perhaps, my mouth?”

“I am a pure being.”

“On the outside, yes. On the inside, you’re just as cursed and evil as I am. Shall I prove it?”

You don’t respond, but you start to tremble, the burning in your stomach growing as your mind begins conjuring images of what she describes. You pray that He will save you before you succumb to what you can only think of is lust.

Your prayers are unheard as she sinks to her knees, her claws digging into the plush of your thighs as she pulls them apart. Her warm breath moves up your inner thigh, her glowing eyes staring up at you.

“Say you want it, little angel.”

There is silence as you fight the words. You fight, and fight some more before you whisper hoarsely.

“I want it.”

With your head screaming no, but the place between your legs screaming yes, you finally succumb, letting her move your legs apart and gasping when her tongue licks a stripe and her voice vibrates against you as she hums.

“Tasty angel, you are, aren’t you? I see why He wanted you to stay pure.”

Her tongue meets your core again as she really begins to pleasure you. Forbidden pleasure shoots through you as she licks and sucks and swirls her tongue around your clit. Your hands find their way to her head, taking purchase around the horns, moans and gasps creating a symphony of divinity. No longer can you call yourself pure, you think, but your thoughts are quickly clouded as you reach the height of sin. Her tongue, long and rough, licks up every last drop of what remains of your purity before looking up at you.

And when you open your eyes, she lets out a small cackle, crushing a piece of glass she’s found long ago and passing it to you.

“Look at you.”

Reluctantly, you glance at yourself, immediately shrieking and dropping the glass, your hand covering your mouth. No longer are your eyes glowing white, but instead glow the same shade of hers. No longer are your wings the colour of snow, but the colour of ash. Corrupted, she wanted you, she said that from the very beginning when she found you, and corrupted, she has made you. Somehow, you are not angry.

[eveningrelics]

This pride month, here is a reminder to the younger queer people out there or anyone who apparently needs the refresher:

Games that depict transphobia and homophobia realistically are not bad.

Games that refuse to pull punches when dealing with triggering material are not inherently bad.

My name is Robin. I am nonbinary, 32, game dev sensitivity reader and script editor for multiple titles, but today we're talking about one dear to my heart:

Mare is an RPGMaker Horror game about trauma.

It is covered in trigger warnings and tells you each of them extensively. On the game page, when you start. And in the read me.

Horror games about trauma will depict trauma. Feels self explanatory, no?

Well, last night, someone went across my sister's social media pages, telling her to die, because she depicted transphobia in the game.

Some major spoilers, but they'll be brief.

At the climax of the game, the Pov shifts to show that the events of the game transpired due to a suicide attempt by a transwoman named Chiyo.

In this brief gameplay segment, you have the option to interact with her PC where you can see online hate she has received, one of which is "a tranny is still a tranny".

This segment was co-written by myself and fully vetted and approved unanimously by all of us, a team composing of multiple queer and trans individuals. We are all horror fans and the realistic depiction of our struggles and the abuse we face was cathartic, but as a result, we also made it clear to not interact with the game if you could not handle heavy subject matter.

This was, ironically, the tamest version of the scene I suggested but the best one, I believe.

I should note, this scene is five hours in. After multiple child deaths, suicides, abuse, etc.

But someone came to my sister, @zmakesgames and told her she should die for including a Trans main character and portraying that they deal with transphobia.

This is not okay.

If you don’t find this type of media cathartic, that's okay, but you don't have the right to police those of use who do, especially when it's coming from an ally inspired in part by listening to the struggles of her older sibling and friends and trying to help give them a voice.

If you can not handle triggering content in your media, do not engage with media that contains those triggers, but it is never, ever acceptable to stalk or tell a dev to kill themselves because you willingly engaged with media you knew would be harmful to yourself.

If you got through this, hi, @zmakesgames is the kindest person I know and all her games are a flavor of rainbow because she is also a lesbian. Please support your queer game devs this June and all year.

Thanks.

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟧: 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖳𝗈 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝗉 𝖧𝖺𝗅𝖿-𝖡𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5

word count: 5.1k+

author’s note: anyways, i hope you liked this chapter! please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter.

tag list: @s0r0ws @starvviss @kjisbae17 @lov3rgiiirl @starless-nightz @random-girls-loves @coolgirl458

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

‼️ DISCLAIMERS FOR THIS CHAPTER ‼️

Foreshadowing, Reader is once again pulling bitches 😏, Adrianna and Reader are 100% besties!, Reader kinda being naive, Luke trying to flirt with a lesbian but she’s clueless as hell about it 😭

Bold alone are the Dreams

Italics alone are the Reader’s thoughts.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

Chiron toured the siblings throughout the outskirts of the camp. “This is a sacred valley. Humans can’t see it, monsters can’t enter it. The world can’t touch it. Great care was taken to bring you two here, and great sacrifice.”

Your eyes traveled to a group of boys, tending to a flower bed, goat legs for humans, the same ones as Grover’s, so they must be the same species.

The three of you ventured into the forest, lantern posts every few feet away, directing the journey. Two owls landed on the tree branches above you, staring down at you as you continued to walk through the forest.

“So, there’s something I gotta tell you. I lost your pen-sword thingy,” Percy remembers.

“Oh, yeah, me too,”

“Hopefully those weren’t your only ones,”

“Check your pocket.”

“No, we lost it the other night, on the hill.”

“Check your pocket,” Chiron repeats.

Sharing a glance with your brother, you two checked your pocket, pulling it an object…the same pen.

“Unless you surrender it, it will always find its way back to you. Magical objects don’t obey the physical laws of the ordinary world. Your pen, my wheelchair, they’re all a part of your father’s world, as are the two of you now.”

“Speaking of our father, do you know where he is or who he is?”

Just like that, someone else dismisses your statement. “I have something to show you,” It was really starting to get annoying at this point. Why couldn’t someone be honest and straightforward at this camp?!

Stopping at a clearing, you observed the scenery ahead of you. It was beautiful, you’d admit that, but this wasn’t a vacation, it was a sanctuary for fellow demigods like you.

“Twelve cabins, for twelve Olympian gods.” He gestured to the specific cabins.

Children walked and ran around the vicinity, an arrow arranged at the front, guiding the different cabins with the gods’ names on them. “Each cabin is home to the children that god has claimed.”

“Great, which ones are we?”

Chiron pauses, looking down as a frown overtook his face. “You have not been claimed, neither of you.”

“What? Do we need to get a blood test or something to find out? It can be done, but my brother gets squeamish at the sight of needles…and blood, but no worries, I’ll hold him down or we can knock him out for a while.” You suggested your insight. “Unlike him, I have self-control,”

“No, no, no, that’s not how it works around here, Y/N,” he chuckles at your thought process.

“Well, when do we get claimed?”

“The gods reveal their design in their own time, not before. Your father might claim you tomorrow, it might be next week, it might be–“

“Never,” You cut him off with an unconvinced yet dejected expression.

“Even now, he still wants nothing to do with us. What are we even doing here? There’s no place for us here.”

“There is a place for you two.” He points to the nearby cabin behind you, “Here…Hermes, gods of travelers.”

“His cabin is home to both his own children and the unclaimed.”

“No, what is needed is for another Hermes cabin to be constructed and built another one.”

Finally walking into the cabin, Chiron looks around at the busy campers. “Everyone. Everyone.”

Percy reaches out to stop Chiron. “Wait– wait a minute.” It was no use, Chiron didn’t hear him.

“Everyone.” He claps his hands together, silencing down their conversations and gaining all their attention. “This is Percy Jackson and Y/N Matthews. I trust you will see to whatever he needs.” He introduced the two siblings.

“I know you feel powerless, but you’re not. All will reveal itself in time.” After that, he left the cabin.

You nudged Percy forward, quickly sauntering over to the two sleeping bags on the floor with your belongings. Sending a hard scowl to everyone who shared a weird glance at your brother, forcefully breaking their eyes off of you two.

Once you approached your belongings on the floor, you groaned in annoyance. Kneeling down on one knee, and opening your bag, you searched for the mini clear bag of seashells your mom gave you a few days ago. You smiled in appreciation, tightening your grip on the object.

“That’s them. I think that’s the girl who killed the Minotaur and her brother.” Your ears perked up at a boy's voice who seemed to be looking your way.

You glared at the boys, dropping your item back in your bag, standing up to your feet, and keeping Percy behind you as the main boy walked up to you.

He was cute, but not your type.

“Listen here, Prince Charming and his goonies, I don’t have the energy for this and neither does my brother. Try again tomorrow, maybe we’ll be prepared for this bullshit of being a bully, got it?”

He had curly black hair, a notable scar on his right cheek, and a toned body.

“Heard what happened to you on the hill. And I just…wanted to say I’m really sorry. I know what you’re going through, believe me.”

Wait a damn minute. He’s good-looking and has a nice personality, oh something’s definitely wrong with him. Either the universe is being too nice or he isn’t what he pretends to be.

You nodded in surprise at his empathy, “Uh, thanks for that, I guess.”

“I’m Luke.” He held his hand out, wanting you to shake it.

“Y/N,” you shook his hand, warningly of the boy’s true intentions.

“Great name.”

“Thanks, you have a basic name.”

He laughs slightly. “So, I’ve been told,”

“My name is Percy, she’s my older sister,”

“Cool, I’m Luke,”

“…I know, I heard you the first time,”

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

You were sitting at a mini campfire beside Percy in the middle of the desert as the night sky peaked. He watched as the sand slipped between his fingers and you smiled in contentment.

It was the same voice from your previous daydream, coming from a binding light in the far distance. “Ah, he left you two here, left you with nothing. I know how you feel. You want what’s been taken from you. You two want justice…” A sudden sandstorm crawls at your feet, shaking you back into reality and startling you awake from your sleep.

You shoot up from your bed, gasping in heavy breaths as you remember your surroundings. Looking down at your brother, who slept peacefully, you exhaled a breath of relief with your hand resting on your chest.

Your hand rummages through your hair cloth, scratching the braids underneath the fabric.

“You okay?” Luke asks, arising from his bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just nightmares.” You breathed out.

“We all have them, you know. Intense, recurring nightmares. That’s normal here. And the daydreams, and the ADHD, and dyslexia.” He explains to you, “Demigods just process reality differently than humans do. For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.”

“Do you also have a sleeping pill to reduce these nightmares or are those nonexistent with decent fashion sense here too?”

“Sorry to say we don’t,” He chuckles, “But there are other ways to cope,”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Take a walk around the camp. Or maybe, a late-night swim should ease it up,” You feigned interest, unwrapping your hair cloth and tossing it in your bag.

“I like you, you’re funny.”

“I’ve been told sarcasm is my greatest quality,” You smiled, getting up out of your sleeping bag, and yawning as you stood up.

“Do you wanna take a walk?”

“Sure, I’ll wake Percy up.” You shuffled over to wake him up but Luke’s calm voice stopped you.

“No. No, perhaps maybe just you and me. You should let your brother get some more sleep.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged at his explanation, standing upright and retreating back to him.

“Really? What’s there to talk about?”

Before he could admit it, your brother Percy stirred awake, a tired groan escaping his lips.

“Looks like you owe me a walk and talk, later,” You wink at him, giggling slightly as your brother groans again.

“Sure,” he blushes, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Percy stood up, walking over to the two of you, groggily wiping away the exhaustion out of his eyes.

“How’d you guys sleep?”

“Like a baby,” You sarcastically respond.

“Decent enough,”

“So, Luke, are you also…do you not know who your–“

“Am I unclaimed? No, Hermes is my father.”

“That’s good…right?” You gave him a shrug.

“Not as great as you think.”

“Right, sorry, Luke.”

“That doesn’t matter, we’re all on the same team here.” He brushes off the topic of his father.

Are we really though? Your intuition disagrees with the dark-haired boy, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You just met him anyway, no need for judgment so early.

“Why is that okay? Why do they get to bring us here to just ignore some of us?”

“Spend too much time trying to figure out why the gods do whatever it is they do, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Sooner you stop worrying about that, the sooner you can enjoy what this place actually does offer,”

“And what’s that?” You inquired, fixing your braids.

“Glory,” He tilts his head, glancing at you. Percy noticed the interaction between the two and scrunched in disgust.

You walk ahead of the two, excitedly cheering upon seeing Adrianna by the door.

“Don’t gain a crush on my sister, she isn’t into you like that.”

“What?” He splutters, astonishment written all over his face. “I don’t have a crush on your sister!” He hastily defends the assumption.

“Hmmmm…well whether you do or don’t, a word to the wise, she loves girls, like absolutely loves girls, and completely despises the majority of the male population.”

“Okay…thanks for the heads up,”

“It wasn’t meant to put you at ease, it was meant for you to back off my sister completely.” Percy implied, “So no more weird longing looks at her, or subtle flirting either. She loves girls and is definitely a 100% girl kisser. Stop searching for something that isn’t there, it’ll only affect you here, got it dude?” He insists, raising an eyebrow.

“Totally, got it.”

“Good,” he huffs, “That’s all I wanted to say,”

The two boys catch up as you all walk around to explore the camp. Luke was accompanied by one of his many half-siblings, Chris Rodriguez, and a dear friend, Adrianna Smith who shared the same kindness to the Jackson siblings.

“Demigods have always fought for glory. They used to call it kleos. It’s like this stuff that attaches itself to your name.”

“What if I don’t want any more friends?”

“Then you have me,” He smiles down at you.

“And space,” Percy shoves Luke aside, bringing you closer to him.

“Personal space is very important too and it seems Luke forgot about it. Don’t you worry either, dear sister, I’ll always be here to remind him.”

“Good, I guess,” You agreed, oblivious to his statement.

“At first this place can be really shitty,” Adrianna starts, keeping her arms looped with yours, “But I trust you’re gonna love it..or tolerate it in the end,” the blonde shrugs her shoulders, “It’s really up to you,”

“Stop being such a debbie downer, Adrianna,” Luke rolls his eyes.

“Can’t do that, it’s my passion,”

He continues, “Glory makes you bigger, scarier, more important. People listen closer when you talk, they work harder to be you and they think twice about messing with you.”

All of a sudden, a girl bumps into Percy and exclaims in protest causing the random girl to turn her head, now facing you.

Sparing one glance at the boy, and pushing against his chest, easily shoving him to the ground. Percy lands on the ground with a grunt, as the girl sizes you up, standing beside Chris.

“Give him a break, Clarisse, it’s like his first day,” Luke tells the curly-haired girl.

She briefly looked at Percy and then shifted her gaze onto you.

“Yeah, I bet…” she jeers, cockiness and sarcasm in her tone. “So these are the two newbies, huh?”

Her dark brown eyes flicker from you to Percy, a malicious intent as she smirks. “We’ve met before, right? You’re the same cute clueless girl with the annoying brother I talked to at the infirmary cabin.”

She was nice to you earlier, but now she’s being mean? Probably uses that as a defense mechanism to put her walls up, you could see right through her.

Your face remained stoic, currently incapable of displaying any emotion of gratitude to the girl. This was not the time to approach a bully, much less a self-appointed popular girl at this camp.

You were tired, your body was exhausted and your stomach grumbled in irritation or hunger, possibly even both. This familiar girl bullying your brother wasn’t what you had in store for today, out of all days. Why couldn’t today, out of all days, be peaceful?

You shove her back, using much force to have her stumble back, “What’s your problem?”

Clarisse looks at you in bewilderment and scoffs, “Excuse me?”

“Did I stutter? You bothered my brother first so it’s only fair! Do you feel entitled to bully my brother?”

The curly-haired girl glares at you, stepping up closer, “If I were you, I’d watch my tone when talking to me.”

You step closer to her, “My tone’s staying the same, you got a problem with it, use all that pent-up anger for something good and prove me wrong but if you’re all talk, pipe the fuck down and stay out of my way.”

“Here I was thinking you were nice and quiet, guess I was wrong. So how you doing, clueless?!”

“Fine until I saw you.”

“I doubt that, clueless girl,”

Yeah, you highly doubted that yourself.

“Stop calling me that!”

“No! I like that nickname for you so I’m keeping it!” Taking two firm steps closer to you, she looks you up and down, “If you want me to stop, then make me, Matthews.”

“Another time, I suppose.”

“No, no, no! Do it now, Matthews, unless you’re too much of a pussy to put me back in my place,” She got closer to your face, noses touching and lips barely hovering over the other.

“Well, you are what you eat.” You retorted back, “Does that apply to you too, LaRue?”

She scoffs, ignoring your remark.

“Never in a million years would I ever kiss you.”

“I never specified which girl you would kiss. Which meant I was on your mind for you to be thinking of kissing me.” You teased her. “Never say never, LaRue,”

Her eyes flickered briefly towards your lips, she looked flustered, immediately covering up her blush. She nods her head, feigning to be understanding, and distances herself a few inches away. Considering her impressed by your assertive tone she changed the subject almost immediately.

“Wait, so you’re the siblings who killed the Minotaur, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Hmmm…I don’t believe it.”

“We’re not asking you to nor do we really care if you believe us, it already happened, we have the proof as well.”

Clarisse partially smiles, eyes trailing down your figure, checking you out as she clicks her tongue, “I like you, you’re quite bitchy, just my type.”

“I’m surprised you’re capable of having a crush on someone,”

“Me too,” she confidently admits, “But I guess someone might change that.”

“Keep on dreaming La Rue.” You scoffed at her flirty remarks.

“You never know, pretty girl.” the nickname rolls off her tongue smoothly.

You hate to admit how sultry her voice was, hanging off that nickname made you flustered. And with that, Clarisse and her posse of half-siblings left as Percy got up from the forest ground.

“Wow, no one’s really stood up to Clarisse like that before,” Luke admits, blowing out a breath of surprise.

“She seems nice.”

“I’m taking it that she’s this camp’s bully.”

“Ares kids, they come by it honestly.”

“She’s not gonna let you live this down,” Chris informs you, observing how your eyes still follow Clarisse’s figure.

“Yeah, I know,” you glance at Clarisse walking off in the distance and drift your attention to your younger brother, “But no one bullies my brother, that’s my job.” you ruffle with Percy’s blonde hair as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Haha, very funny…” Percy sarcastically replies, swatting your head away from his head.

“You’re right, I am the funnier sibling.”

“Says who?”

“Says you. You just said it!”

Luke chuckles at your sibling banter, “C’mon guys, let’s finish the tour.”

“Why don’t they mess with you?”

“They know better.”

“Luke’s the strongest swordsman at camp,” Chris boasts.

“To which I still doubt to this very day,” Adrianna interjects.

“How would you know, you’re always in your father’s workshop all the time,”

“So they leave you alone because of ‘glory’?” Luke nods his head, allowing Percy to continue, “So if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either,”

“Exactly.”

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well…” Adrianna trails off, “They think Y/N is a big deal, considering she actually killed the Minotaur, but it’s good to have hope.”

“So that means, our dad has no choice but to claim us,” he assumes, looking at you.

Luke and Adrianna shared a skeptical glance.

“Listen here, little dude, you can’t force the gods to do anything,” The blonde girl advised.

“Well yeah, but it would make it harder for him to pretend that me and my sister don’t exist, right?”

“Or our dad could be really great at ignoring his biggest responsibilities and many years of child support.” You commented.

“Maybe,” Luke squints his eyes.

“To which one?”

“To which one what?”

“Were you responding to me or Percy?”

“Umm…” he blew a breath of uncertainty, “I don’t…Adri knows who I was referring to…”

“Firstly, Adri is reserved for Y/N only, not anyone else. Secondly, yeah dude you weren’t being specific,” Adrianna adds.

“Traitor,” Luke scoffs playfully.

“I think that’s you!” Adrianna remarked.

You saw him tense up at the remark and your curiosity got the better of you. Why did he tense up like that? Is there more to the story Luke is letting on? Does he truly seek good intentions for you and your brother, Percy?

It took him a while to finally answer the question.

“Maybe for both,”

“And the world may never know,”

“Great, right back where we started,” You sighed.

“Nevermind, Luke, guys.” Chris clears his throat, sending the awkward atmosphere, “Let’s put your skills to the test, see if you’re really deserving of glory,”

“Well, great. Where do we start?” Your little brother’s eagerness was clear as day.

You can never figure out if Percy’s pessimistic or optimistic, however, you were a more ‘go with the flow’ kinda of girl.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

You witnessed the girl in the wheelchair, using a bow and flaming arrow, aiming her weapon at the practice target, smiling when it landed the bullseye.

“A good source of glory are feats of skill,” Luke states, handing you a bow and arrow. “So, we gotta figure out what you’re good at.”

“Well, I don’t have it anymore, guess my glory was fun while it lasted,” You shrugged, turning to walk away, patting Luke’s chest, “I’ll see you around,”

Luke reached out his hand to grab you but Percy’s unimpressed gaze stopped him. Percy shoots him that ‘Don’t even think about it!’ stare. Adrianna found it funny how oblivious you were to this current situation and relished the boys’ tactics. So to taunt Luke even further, she grabs hold of your hand, smirking when you accept the kind gesture.

Adrianna tugs on your arm, dragging you back to her, “It doesn’t hurt to try,”

“It may hurt for the bystanders,”

“Stop being such a worry wart, it promotes wrinkles and you can’t have that on a pretty face.”

“You think I have a pretty face?”

“How could I not?!”

“I do have a pretty face, don’t I?”

“Dare I say the most gorgeous one at this camp,” She winks.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Adri,” you playfully reprimand.

“I’m quite certain I can handle things firsthand, I’m a hands-on learner,”

“Oh really?”

“Wanna find out?” She checks you out. You’d be lying right now if your cheeks weren’t so flustered, and tiny butterflies didn’t erupt in your stomach.

Luckily, your brown skin diminished any sight of blushing, only others to assume, just the way you’d prefer it to be. For others to be unsuspecting and unaware.

This was how best friends act all the time anyway so you played along, just for the fun of it.

“Are we here to flirt or are we here to train?!”

“I can do both at the same time,” Adrianna tilts her head at the Castellan boy, enjoying his torment to the fullest, much to his dismay. She glanced at you, a smirk appearing, “How, Y/N, what about you?”

“I’ll need some practice,”

“And I’ll be happy to teach you,” She smugly states, moving closer to you, and settling beside the wheelchair girl.

You shuffled with the bow in your hand, feeling uneasy with the weapon placed in your care. Adrianna hands you an arrow, and the wheelchair girl lights up the tip of the arrow with a generic gas lighter.

“Is this safe?”

“Probably not,” The girl shrugs.

“So you decide to put us all at risk because of your uncertainty?” You asked incredulously, “Oh I’m loving this camp!” You stepped closer to the target, aiming your weapon at the target, closing one eye for better perception, pulling back the arrow, and releasing it toward the target. You held your breath, watching the arrow hurl towards the target, smiling when it landed, missing the bullseyes by a few inches.

“Told you that you’ll love it!”

“Not bad for your first try,”

“Told you,” Adrianna grins.

“Your turn, Percy!” You shoved the two-pieced weapon in his arms.

“I wanna be very clear about this. I’ve never done anything like this, and it looks super dangerous.”

“Ehh and you and Y/N never double-teamed killing a Minotaur before either, ‘til you did,”

“Y/N did all the work,” Percy mumbles, “Why does everyone keep forgetting that?”

The girl moved to light the tip of the arrow on fire, but he pulled away, “I wouldn’t,” He warned the girl.

“Trust me, he wouldn’t,” You stared at the girl who chuckled in your direction, backing away from Percy a bit.

He stepped forward, fixing his posture on the arrow, stretching the arrow back, and releasing it into the air. Too bad his aim was horrible making it fly over to the group of spectator campers. Scaring everyone else, they ducked down, trying to dodge the flying arrow and Percy tripped onto the grass himself.

Your brother blinked once, staring at the distressed faces of the campers, and hesitantly asked; “Should I try again?”

There were many clamors of disagreements after that, earning boisterous laughs from you and Adrianna. Obviously, Percy is now a safety hazard towards bows and arrows, so hopefully he will become more resourceful with another weapon soon.

Next, you two ended up in the camp’s workshop, bustling with sweating eager kids rushing around to create variations of weapons for later use.

“Now we’re in my domain,” Adrianna laughs, ushering you and Percy to wear aprons, gloves, and safety glasses.

“I’ll handle Y/N, Luke you got Percy,”

Luke agreed, disappearing further into the workshop with Percy.

“So your godly parent is…”

“Hephaestus, god of forgery. None of those titles matter anyway if you’re just gonna be a shit dad to your children.” She mutters, eyes lingering on the ground. You could hear the hurt in her voice as she strained to maintain an emotionless tone.

“Adri…” You longed to comfort your friend but refrained from doing so.

“Don’t know why I said that, but continue.”

“Adri…”

She hums, encouraging you to continue.

“Everything isn’t okay, you can tell me anything. I know we just met but–“

“Maybe another time,”

“Whenever you feel comfortable,” You rubbed a hand over her shoulder.

“Great, now back to figuring out your skills.” She points to the inflamed metal.

“I don’t deal with melting shit of any kind, I’m barely even trusted to cook on the stove by myself,”

“Relax, Y/N. Just follow after me,”

You place the safety glasses over your eyes, grabbing the hammer. The melted metal was already in place as you repeatedly hit the hammer against it, hoping to mold the heated metal. It was going well for a while, until you lost control and the heated piece of steel flew across the air, landing on heaps of bags.

Your eyes widened when those bags caught on fire and Adrianna grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the disaster.

That was an epic fail!

Apparently, when you reunited with Luke and Percy, the same occurrence happened with your brother. Now some Hephaestus’ kids were currently disposing of fires, accidentally created by the two siblings.

Great minds think alike, you guessed.

“When’s lunch, I’m starving,”

Chris laughed at your question.

“What’s so funny about that? I was serious.” You deadpanned, glaring at him. “I never joke about food, keep that in mind.”

His laughs came to a halt at your seriousness as he cleared his throat, dismissing the slight embarrassment he felt.

“Oh, I love you already, I don’t fuck about my food either,” Adrianna laughs, skipping over to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “C’mon let’s ditch the boys, I have a hoard of snacks to keep you occupied until lunch,”

You giggled at her suggestion, instantly agreeing, allowing her to drag you away to her cabin.

“Seems like Y/N and Adrianna are getting along pretty well,” Chris comments.

“Yep, that’s good.” Percy smiles in recognition, pleased to see you content and not in a gloomy depressed state, troubled by your losses.

He knows you’re burying the pain and suffering, at least for his sake. Regardless if you were putting on a mask to protect him, your brother was highly aware that certainly, you admired having a friend of your own and the happiness it came with.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

The siblings meet up at the dining pavilion, Percy sits in between you and Adrianna with Luke and Chris across from them.

“Is there a Greek god of disappointment?” Percy asks, letting his question linger in the air before resuming, “Maybe someone should ask him if he’s missing a kid.”

“I think they should, you know,”

Percy turns to you, “Oh, gee, dear sister, you sure know how to brighten my mood,” He sarcastically

“I know,” You giggle, “You’re blessed to have me, all of you are, but my future girlfriend will be the most blessed to be dating me,”

“No doubt about it.” Adrianna winks.

“Are you two flirting?” Percy squints his eyes.

“Yes, but in a platonic way,”

Luke attempted to encourage the blonde boy, but Chirs beat him to it as he stared at his brother in confusion.

“Oizys…but she’s a goddess, and her whole thing isn’t really a disappointment, it’s more like a failure,” Chris stated blankly, playing with his food, obviously not reading the room.

“Now I know who never comes to me when I need consolation,” you shake your head, chewing your food.

His brother, Luke blinked incredulously, rolling his eyes at him, and turned to Percy.

“We’re gonna find the thing that you’re good at. I know it.” He reassures the blonde boy.

“Yeah, but do you… like truly? Don’t give him false hope,” You reinstated.

A chiming bell cuts the conversation short, confusing you and Percy.

“Our turn.”

“Our turn for what?”

“Burnt offerings,”

“The gods like the smell, so it gets their attention before you say a prayer,” Luke confirms.

“They like the smell of burnt mac and cheese?”

“You telling me that I must waste my blessed food on deadbeat immortal gods?! Nah, fuck that, Imma eat every ounce of my food. What did those gods do to earn my leftovers, nothing at all,” You exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.

“They like the smell of begging,” Adrianna includes, standing up with her plate.

“That’s believable, but it’s not worth the sacrifice of my food, it’s too precious,” You defended your food, “And also…I ate everything from my plate,” You trailed off, staring down at your empty plate.

“It’s fine, I’ll share with you,” Adrianna suggested.

“You’ll burn what you’ll miss the most, then they know you really mean what you’re about to say, so they listen.” Luke finishes, leaving with his plate alongside Adrianna.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

Later that night, you headed to bed early, exhaustion deep in your bones. Adrianna had spent the entire day with you, departing from you with a comforting hug, and going to her own cabin.

You felt Percy shuffled against his sleeping bag, causing you to groan and stir slowly awake.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You whispered to him, rubbing out the tiredness away from your eyes with concern written all over your face.

“Just gonna talk to my mom,” he clarifies, holding his bag of blue candies in the air.

“Do you want me to come with you?” You began to remove your blanket.

“No, no, I’ll be fine, stay here.”

“Be safe,” you whispered to him with a small grin.

“I will,” he reassures you with a small smile and he snuck out past the many campers in the cabin.

Reassured by his disappearance, you laid back in your bed, snuggling into the cover sheets as sleep peacefully claimed you once again.

Day 1 at Camp Half-Blood seemed to be decent at least.

ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ  ꪆৎ ˚⋅ ➴  ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ

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© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Protect Me From What I Want.

Pairing/Au: Hot Priest JoelxAFAB!original character, alternate universe/no cordyceps outbreak.

Words count: 4477k

Rating: This chapter is safe for works, the others will not be so you are warned. Minors, please don’t interact.

Warnings: POV third person, Religion, religion references, Catholicism, she yearn for her priest OK, slow burn, mention of infidelity, Catholic guilt, no smut for now but it will come, just trust the process lol, original AFAB character, no physical description or ethnicity but she has long hair. I didn’t mention her precise age (but she’s definitely over 30 in my mind), Joel is around 40.

Summary: She moves to a new neighborhood to start a new life, she meets her neighbors and her new friend invites her to church where she will meet a very particular priest. What could happen?

Notes: English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any errors.

I really want to thank my friend Pixxie for supporting me and putting up with me all the time while I was writing it, she also took the time to edit it but in any case anything wrong is only my fault, just know that.

I would also like to thank my friend Veronica who literally took the time to brainstorm with me when I had the initial idea and gave me some great advices throughout the whole process and some really nice compliments that I cherish in my heart.

Thank you so much, my friends, you’re wonderful people and deserve the world❤️

FF title is a Placebo song that I love and the title of the first chapter is obviously a Hozier song that I listened to hundreds of times while I was writing this. Plus, I love Hozier so much, I had to mention him and maybe it won't be the last time I do.

I still don't know how to insert gifs and above all give proper credit to whoever made them and I'd hate not to, so I can’t do it, I’m sorry.

Thank you so much to everyone who reads, I hope you enjoy it. Any polite advice is welcome.❤️

Chapter one: Take me to church

She had just moved into a new house and she really wanted to make a good impression in the neighborhood. Find some friends, maybe at least one person who cared enough about her to call the fire department if they saw smoke coming from her house.

She was emptying a box of books when a lady knocked on the door.

She was a woman about his age, tall, long blonde hair and brown eyes and a beautiful smile. She was wearing a blouse and jeans and was holding a basket of muffins that looked homemade.

She opened the door confused “Good morning! Do you need something?"

“HI! I'm Lily, I live across the street, I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood!” she said “These are for you, I baked them myself, I hope you like blueberries"

“Thank you, I love all kind of berries and these look amazing! I only arrived yesterday, I didn't expect such a welcome!”

“It seems strange nowadays huh?” Lily laughed “Usually everyone minds their own business but not here. We all know each other and we try to welcome new arrivals in the best way possible”

She was pleasantly surprised, they talked a little bit and she seemed like a very good person to her.

After a few days Lily invited her to a party at her house. She met some people, chatted with several women that couldn’t stop rumbling about their children and some men who were awkwardly flirty.

She politely excused herself, wondering if being a single woman was a valid pass for them when their wives were literally in the same room. Apparently, yes, it was. But she wasn’t interested at all.

Despite everything, she appreciated Lily's gesture and came to the conclusion that this new neighborhood seemed quiet enough and her neighbors were overall nice people. As long as she never stayed in the same room with Richard for too long.

She got a new little house on the other side of the street from Lily, with a little garden and a front porch.

Lily quickly became a friend and when she asked advice for a Chinese take away, Lily recommended a very good one and then suggested they could have dinner together. They chatted, laughed a lot and discovered that they were both single, Lily recently divorced from her asshole cheating husband.  

“Have you ever been married?" Lily asked, whilst sipping margaritas on her porch after dinner.

"No, much to the disappointment of my ultra-Catholic mother."She replied. 

“Good for you, never get married. I shouldn't say this since I'm a churchgoer but marriage brought me only troubles” Lily laughed.

She felt a knot in her stomach while she thought about the irony of that, given her past relationship with Brian. She smiled at her new friend replying “I’m so sorry about that”.

“Ha! Don’t be! It’s a blessing that I got rid of that asshole” Lily laughed again.

Lily was a fun and very caring person and easily stepped into her life with her funny personality and her great cocktails skills. She was happy to have found a new friend.

“You told me that your mom is Catholic, what about you? Do you go to a parish?" Lily asked her one day, while they’re having lunch together at the mall’s foodcourt.

She was silent for a moment, eyes on her salad, weighing her words carefully before answering: "I used to, then I fell out with my mom and stopped going for many years”.

Her life had revolved around a parish, thanks to his mother. She had met her first friends in Sunday school and they remained friends throughout her teenage years until she went to college.

She hadn't spoken to her mother in years and she still found a friend who frequented one regularly. She thought fate had a strange sense of humor.

“What happened?” Lily looked at her full of curiosity and concern.

She felt an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach as she tried to find the right words. She took a sip on her diet coke, thinking about what to tell her, not wanting to make up a fake story.

“I don't feel like talking about it, I’m sorry. Maybe another time” she replied, hoping for her friend to drop the subject.

“Don’t worry, it’s all good” Lily replied, pausing before carrying on,"When you feel ready to try again you should come to church with me. I bet you would like our parish priest!"

“What's different about him from other priests?" she laughed, remembering the one from her old parish, a cold and intransigent man to whose age she had never been able to guess, he seemed ancient when she was a child.

“He's a lot younger than most of them, for one thing, I'd say around 45, he has a more modern approach. And he tries to involve people, you know, you can see that he really believes in it” Lily said.

“That sounds good. I’ll think about it” she regretted it instantly, the moment she spoke.

She wasn't at all sure she was ready to immerse herself in that environment again. It reminded her of her mother, reminded her of what had happened and reawakened her guilt.

She must have looked worried because Lily patted her arm and said, "Hey, don't worry, you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

She laughed trying to hide her nervousness “No, it’s okay.” 

Lily smiled at her "Come on, finish your salad, I saw a fantastic skirt in a window when we came in and I want to try it on! You can judge whether it looks good on me."

She smiled back, grateful for her friends response and feeling guilty.  

Maybe this priest would help her face the ghosts of her past once and for all, and find a way to forgive herself. The only way to be sure was to try and so after a couple of weeks, she found herself accompanying Lily to church.

“What's wrong?” Lily asked.  

“Nothing, I just haven't been in a while."

“It'll be fine. You'll feel comfortable here"

Lily gently placed a hand on her back and invited her to come in. She sat on a wooden bench and watched people walk down the aisle. Her neighbors in Sunday’s clothes, well-ironed shirts, ties, silk blouses and elegant gold earrings. Yawning children, held by the hand of their parents and old ladies with perms scolding their husbands, who were probably more interested in sports than in Sunday mass.

She exchanged smiles with a few people, hearing her neighbor speak in a low voice "You'll see, you'll like our priest, he's really good and his homilies are always inspiring.” 

The church filled quickly and the voices of the people echoed on the frescoed walls. She glanced around, noticing the splendid stained glass windows, the large dark wood altar, the imposing organ. It was a suburban church but very well maintained.

She kept looking around nervously as if her mother was going to come in at any moment to tell everyone she was a slut not worthy of being there. She was on the verge of telling Lily that she was going home, when a door opened at the side of the nave and suddenly the buzz around her died leaving the room filled with organ music. 

A tall man came out, dressed in a green chasuble adorned with gold. She watched him walk towards the altar, her breath stolen by his presence. Lily was right, he wasn't like other priests. She had failed to tell her how incredibly handsome he was.

She froze on the bench, totally captivated. As soon as he started to talk she was mesmerized by the smooth, low, decisive sound of his voice invading the place, filling the air, making her forget, at least for that moment, that she was in a church for the first time after so long.

He gave a homily about the importance of welcoming, about how a community must always be open to new people, who can bring enrichment, teachings and new resources to make the parish flourish and spread the love of God. All she could think was that he looked so solemn and incorruptible, and gorgeous. So gorgeous that he seemed to have been shaped by the hand of God himself.  

A scruffy beard adorned his chiseled jaw, his wavy hair was slightly graying, his plump lips looked soft and delicious right under a big, strong aquiline nose and mustache. His eyes were a captivating deep beautiful brown, they were eyes that had lived through a lot. She recognized part of herself, of her own life’s pain, reflected in his eyes.

She had been many things, a model daughter when she was little, kind of a rebel as a teenager, an outcast, someone who was trying to start over.

After the service Lily insisted that she go and introduce herself. She would have preferred to slip away in silence, blending in with the other churchgoers but once she reached the exit she found herself right in front of him.

Lily, just behind her, chirped out "Father Joel, I would like to introduce you to a new faithful" and immediately took her arm to introduce her. 

She looked up at Father Joel who was tilting his head and looking at her curiously.

“Nice to meet you, I hope you enjoyed the service”. He held out a hand for her to shake and she shyly slipped hers into his feeling a firm and gentle grip. A shiver of pleasure invaded her body and settled between her thighs.

“God, he’s stunning” she thought “Stunning in a way that’s almost illegal. And he’s a priest, dummy.”

She smiled, trying to regain her composure, replying "It was really beautiful, thank you.”

She felt pinned by his eyes and for a moment she was afraid that he might see her guilt.

"Well, I hope to see you again next Sunday" he said gently.

“I can’t wait” She replied quickly, before rushing outside of the church before she could see Father Joel frowning and then smiling.

As they walked home she asked for some more details about Father Joel and her enthusiastic neighbor began to tell her how much he was immersed in the community, doing fundraisers, collecting food and clothes, always offering an helping hand to poor families, elderly people and orphans.

“So what do you think, will you come back?” 

She nodded "Definitely. I would like to do something useful, I think I will offer to volunteer as well."

Lily complimented her, she remained silent, smiling politely, while inside she knew that she would not offer herself in the name of her newfound faith. It was more about atoning than doing charity work for others. And then of course, it was also about Father Joel.

 

She had tried to stay away from men for years after what had happened. After all, her mother had managed to instill something in her.

Shame.

Whenever a man flirted with her she heard her mother's voice. She tried to silence her, to think that after all she wasn't doing anything wrong but the truth was that it still affected her. 

Brian lived in the same neighborhood as her mother. He was 10 years older than her and was married. His wife, Kathy, was a gentle woman, thin as a rake, and modest. 

She had come home for spring break and her suitcase had opened in the middle of the driveway as soon as she got out of the cab.

Brian was in the garden and saw her chasing her belongings as they slid down the sloping driveway towards the street. He had crossed and picked up her deodorant which was about to end up in the middle of the road.

“Here you go" he told her smiling "I saved this"

She laughed and thanked him.

Brian was definitely attractive, he had an athletic physique, a beautiful smile, was slightly tanned and looked at her in an unmistakable way. She noticed it immediately. They began seeing each other secretly a few days later, he slipped a note with his cell phone number into her hand when they met in church. She had never been with an older man before. His peers were awkward, kind, some were absolutely arrogant and pretentious, none of them were experts in the art of seduction.

Brian had fascinated her right away, and she had fallen for him. He had kissed her for the first time during a neighbor's party, after following her into the bathroom. His wife was downstairs, unaware of everything and she hadn't even thought about it at the time. She just wanted it. The thrill of it blinded her eyes and mind and numbed her judgment. 

They met secretly in out-of-the-way motels. He had made promises right away and she believed them.

Telling her "My wife and I haven't had sex in months, things aren't working between us, I'll leave her for you.”

Things that married men always say to their lovers. Yet she had believed him, because she was young and inexperienced.

She came back home for the summer, giving up a trip with her roommate. Just to be with Brian.

She had specifically looked for an art history course to enroll in, to have an excuse to leave the house and be with him. She actually attended it but always added a few extra hours or some workshops that she absolutely couldn't miss. It was the perfect cover. She had always loved art and attended an art history class in college. Her mother was thrilled that she had found something to do other than attending church.

Her mother was a rather strict woman, Catholic to the bone.

Her father had abandoned them when she was little and her mother had never remarried since then. She considered divorce a disgrace that would lead her to hell, and had decided that she would no longer have anything to do with men. There would only be one man in her life, Jesus. She could quote entire passages from the Bible by heart, never failing to quote them at her for anything that happened and she thought that sex before marriage was to be avoided.

During her teenage years they had had some disagreements when she came home after the appointed time, when she got drunk a couple of times with a bottle of wine stolen from one of her church’s friend and when she got some bad grades, which happened quite rarely.

She had been a teenager like many others, she had never done anything particularly serious but for her mother it was never enough.

It had happened more than once that she made her feel guilty for simply being a girl.

She had kissed her schoolmate when she was 15, at a parish party. Somehow her mother had found out and had given her a long speech about how inappropriate and wrong it was to kiss or, God forbid, do anything else with someone who wouldn't become her husband.

Despite their differences however, they coexisted quite peacefully because she had no way of radically opposing her mother's ideas.

After all, her mother had never let her lack anything and she was grateful for that.

Until she found out about her relationship with Brian.

She had seen them kissing outside a motel as she was returning from the mall where she had just done some shopping.

She had waited for her at home and started yelling at her.

She tried to deny it but eventually confessed.

Her mother had looked at her with a coldness and contempt that she had never seen before in her eyes and screamed at her "How could you do this? After what we went through with your father. How can you think of ruining a family just to indulge your dirty carnal desires? You're just a slut and you’ll go to hell!”

Her mom didn't speak to her for days, like she didn't exist. Things got even worse when Brian's wife found out too. A nosy neighbor told Kathy that she had seen them in a park outside the city, holding hands and kissing. As much as they had tried to keep the relationship hidden, the whole neighborhood had found out about it and they whispered behind her back, giggling and calling her a whore.

Kathy confronted her in front of the church one Sunday morning, her mother had practically forced her to follow her because praying and repenting was the least she could do for her corrupted soul according to her.

Kathy, despite her delicate appearance, brought out all the anger she was capable of, she slapped her with all the strength she had. And Brian….Brian was a coward as well as a liar, and didn't lift a finger to help her.

None of those present had said a word, they had just looked at her in a way she would never forget. They judged her.

She had never felt so humiliated in her entire life, at least not until her mother packed her bags and told her never to set foot in her house again. She put an envelope with money in her hand and told her that she would have to fend for herself.

She was 20 years old and the only person in the world who should have loved her unconditionally had turned her back on her.

 

After crying for days with her college roommate, she began looking for a job and somehow got through it, though things were very difficult. She waited tables in the evenings and studied during the day, her mother's money being enough to cover her senior year's tuition, considering she got a scholarship that paid part of her expenses, but not everything else.

Her affair had practically taken everything away from her.

For most of those years she thought that if only her mother hadn't been so religious, she would probably have forgiven her in the end. But it hadn't happened, she had humiliated herself in front of the entire neighborhood. For her mother it was a line that shouldn't be crossed. She had never entered a church again after Kathy's outburst.

How could she tell all this to Lily, a woman who had herself been cheated on?

Her public humiliation still rankled inside her, even though many years had passed. Years in which she had been diligent, attentive, she had not let herself be distracted by any man, denying herself dates, limiting herself to one-night stands to avoid getting involved, a friend of hers from university tried to court her for a while but she didn't give him any encouragement. She focused on her degree, on work, nothing was allowed to distract her, she needed to prove to herself that she could get by on her own.

Over time she also realized that Brian was largely to blame, after all he was the one who was married and cheated on his wife, he was older and should have been a more responsible person. Nothing had happened to him, as far as she knew, Katy had forgiven him and they had continued their lives while she had been branded as the neighborhood slut.

She had managed to start again from scratch now, finding a good job and a new house where no one knew about her past.

She hated feeling still so influenced by her mother's judgment and her faith, she just wanted to be able to follow her instincts and desires.

Father Joel had awakened something so strong and compelling in her, she had never felt vulnerable again after Brian, but as soon as she saw Father Joel it seemed to her that the walls she had so dedicatedly built were very fragile.

 

One afternoon two days later while she was waiting to order her usual cappuccino at the neighborhood café, Father Joel entered the place.

He smiled and greeted her “Are you a coffee lover too?”

“Yes. I’m pretty much useless without coffee”  

“Me too” he admitted

“So even priests have vices! Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She whispered laughing.

“I confess. Thank you for being discreet” He smiled, mischievously adding “And it’s not the only one.”

“What are the others?”

“I’ll never tell” he replied, in a low, confidential, vaguely malicious tone that made her knees buckle.

She paused for a second enchanted by his eyes until the waitress asked her what she wanted to order.

“Oh! A cappuccino please” She quickly said.

“Could you make one for me too?” Father Joel added.

She turned to look for a table and saw that there was only one free. As if the priest had guessed her thoughts he said “We can share, if you don't mind”

“Of course not” She certainly couldn't tell him that no, she didn't want to share the table with him because he made her feel like a stupid little girl who had a crush.

They paid, and walked over to the table. Father Joel pulled a chair out and gestured for her to sit. 

“I've never seen you in the neighborhood before, have you just moved?” He asked.

He kept his eyes fixed on her as if she were the only person in the room.  

“Yes, I haven’t been here long.” 

“Well, let me welcome you to the neighborhood then! I hope you enjoy it here.”

“Thank you. It’s lovely here so far.”

“And you are friends with Lily? She’s a lovely person.”

“She is. She was the one who insisted that I come to church” she admitted.

“She did the right thing, we always need new believers” he smiled briefly “Was it your first time in a church?”

“Oh no, my mother always took me when I was little. It has been a while though, since I’ve been there” 

"So, you were raised Catholic? That’s interesting. What happened that made you stop going?”  

The question that terrified her and she wasn’t sure how to answer. She held her breath for a moment before replying “Nothing important, I just had the classic teenage phase, you know, I was kind of a rebel.”

“I see. And what made you change your mind?”

“Lily, mostly. She told me that your parish is different, it’s not as strict and severe like the others."

“She's right. Everyone is welcome. I feel it’s important that people feel welcome in the Church. I’m glad you have given the Lord a second chance.” He smiled at her, a dimple appearing on his cheek.

His warm voice was so attractive, almost hypnotic. She thought he would never have trouble attracting anyone. How could anyone resist?

“The prodigal daughter returns.” She joked.

He laughed, it was a very melodious sound that melted her to the chair.

The waitress arrived with the cappuccinos and brought her back to reality, she looked around and noticed that some people were looking at them. She wondered if they had noticed how fascinated she was by the priest but apparently no one was bothered.

“You have been so welcoming. I think I would like to be involved in the activities of the parish”

He leaned forward, smiling, and covered her wrist with his hand. His touch was warm and gentle.

“That is wonderful news. The kids will be putting on a play soon…are you any good at sewing? We could, well, I could use a hand making costumes for them. I’m not very good at it you see..last time I tried, I ended up sewing the cape I was making onto my trousers.” He laughed again and smiled at her.

She felt a tingle at the touch, his large hand on her wrist covered it completely.

“Sure, I would love to help make them costumes" she felt herself blushing hard, her stomach in a knot.

She wanted to ask him so many questions. She was so curious as to why he wanted to be a priest. He was so far removed from any priests she had met in childhood. She held back from asking, it wasn't a date, it was just two people who happened to share a table. And he was a priest, not a potential boyfriend.

There was something terribly wrong with the desperate, feral way he made her feel, surely she would have been better off just staying away from him and telling Lily she'd rather not go back to church. At least she had chosen to have a crush on someone who was off limits.  

“No one will get hurt, nothing will ever happen." She thought.

He finished drinking his cappuccino and got up.  

“I have to go, but thank you for the talk and for letting me sit with you. Will I be seeing you on Sunday?” 

“Oh of course, definitely. I wouldn’t miss service” she told him, smiling shyly “I have to go too, I have some work waiting for me at home”

She got up too and they left the café together, they were standing on the sidewalk intent on saying goodbye one last time when a boy on skates bumped into her. She lost her balance and risked falling forward onto the pavement, but Father Joel managed to shield her and she found herself in his arms, her face hitting his chest, while she felt him holding her to keep her in place.

“Are you ok?" she heard him ask.

“Yes, thank you,” she stammered as she felt her face go on fire.

His broad chest hid her face completely, the fabric of his black shirt was soft and smelled clean, like laundry detergent with a hint of a very fresh and citrusy men's perfume.

She felt his hands on her forearms squeezing her lightly.

She pulled away from his chest and looked up at him, she felt hot and embarrassed and she knew she had turned a ridiculous bright red color.

He was smiling, she saw a sparkle in his eyes. She noticed that he was still holding her, his hands large and warm on her skin.

Her eyes fixed on his white collar.

The boy had already darted away without even worrying.

“I know who he is, I'll give him a little talk on Sunday”.

She laughed nervously as she felt his hands slide down her arms, leaving her free but unsatisfied in an instant.

“Well, thanks again” she murmured “I'll see you on Sunday”.

“You know where to find me” he smiled, raising his hand in a wave of greeting.

He turned and she watched him walk away.

She wanted him to hold her close, she wanted to stay in his arms for hours, talking and laughing and finding out everything she needed to know about him. His warmth, his smile, his restrained yet gentle manner, everything about him did nothing but fuel her desire.