#do you know do y’all know how many times I’ve been sent or tagged in this post

[whimsyprinx]

word association or some shit

[pulisicsgirl]

in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

*

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

tag list:

@hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking 🤨

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

[soullessjack]

Hello sorry for an ask. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

there’s no way you thought this would work when this is the second time you’ve tried your little loser scam on my blog you stupid fuck 💀

anyways folks there’s a very common pattern I’ve noticed in some of these scams that I’d now like to point out to y’all

1) they’re extremely recent. 1-5 days old at best. this one is a day old.

2) they have that tumblr-generated name that never makes any sense, and if they try to make another blog again, the name is usually related in some way

3) they’ll almost always have this pfp and header. Sometimes the pfp changes (usually stolen from real campaigns) but the header is always the same. I shit you not I’ve already seen it so many times before now

4) their fundraiser or PayPal links are always multi-colored?? For some fucking reason?? and the name given on their account is either completely different from the name given on their blog, or they just don’t have a name given. they also have extremely minimal or vague information given about their identity, health issues etc.

5) they’ve used those specific tags — artists on tumblr, donations, free Palestine, etc — before. I use cross tags for donation posts as well but for someone who gives zero indication of being Palestinian, that’s a weird fucking tag to use for reach.

6) they usually reblog something related to activism, especially posts related to Palestine currently, but there’s always something else completely unrelated in there — like this fanfic.

I won’t go on a spiel about how that’s also a normal thing for nearly all blogs to do and isn’t always indicative of a scam, but for ones that claim to be in an active and severe health or housing crisis (hence their asking for donations) it’s something to look out for

again, these are just patterns and signs I’ve noticed personally from scams that I’ve been sent, I’m not an expert on any of this stuff. honestly just searching their username or other common scams on tumblr is a quick way to figure them out before you go ahead with anything else. but remember to stay safe and cautious, and know how to distinguish these from people who are actually in need.

[stealingyourbones]

Ask the writer ask game! Tagged by @gremlin-bot

1.) how many works do you have on ao3?

8!

2.) what’s your total ao3 word count?

50k!

3.) what fandoms do you write for?

Primarily DPxDC but I enjoy writing DC and I greatly enjoy writing D&D campaigns!

4.) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Falling in Love (In the Most Literal Sense)

Short DPxDC Prompts

I've Grown a Mouth So Sharp and Cruel (It's All That I Can Give To You)

What the Hell?! (UP FOR ADOPTION)

Dream of a Peaceful Slumber

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I’m simply too busy with my tumblr to respond to people on ao3. If I try to focus on more than one website at a time I’ll lose my mind 😅. I promise I Look at each and every one!

6.) what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

There’s a sander sides fic i wrote like 8 years ago that had all of the sides get slowly and very brutally murdered one by one in hella graphic detail. I was trying to experiment with descriptors and visuals at that time. Definitely that one. I don’t think it’s on ao3 but it’s somewhere on my old Wattpad account

7.) what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely Falling In Love (In The Most Literal Sense) or an unpublished eldritch smut horror DeadOnMain fic that’s forever staying in WIP hell. Falling In Love first and foremost has an ending, secondly they get along and it’s cute :)

8.) do you get hate on fics?

Not really. I occasionally get questions or criticism on my tumblr but that’s either advice or someone wanting answers and that isn’t hate.

9.) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have tried my hand at smut before. Mostly smutty scenes with kinda sorta fade to black, solely because I’m terrible at painting a mental picture for the reader so it always flows terribly. I’ve written that eldritch DeadOnMain thing as I said previously, and some of Jason’s matches Malone persona OF ideas.

10.) do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one?

Somewhere in my WIPs there is a homestuck AU DPxDC fic where DP kids are the humans and DC folks (primarily the teen titans) are the trolls. Definitely that one.

11.) have you ever had a fic stolen?

No fics but I’ve been sent asks that are word for word one of my prompts. I just delete those and go on with my day. Idk I don’t have a tiktok and someone’s probably imitating me on there with my prompts so possibly????

12.) have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13.) have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes!! I’ve Grown A Mouth So Sharp And Cruel (It’s All That I Can Give To You My Dear) (eventually I’ll get around to working on it I have so much stuff going on like preparing to move and finals creeping up aUGH)

14.) what’s your all time fav ship?

Ooooo It’s a solid tie between Kon/Tim and Dave/Karkat. One is my current favorite and the other is one that’s been my favorite ship for the longest time.

15.) what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I have a WIP in my files that’s a DPxDC Dash/Danny fic where Dash is a bomb disposal tech and Danny just moved into Gotham. I have the entire outline written and almost a solid chapter done but I heavily doubt I’ll have the motivation to touch it again.

16.) what are your writing strengths?

I don’t think I have any, (I haven’t written a full length fic in so long I can’t really tell 😅) but I’m very good at setting tone. Idk what do y’all think?

17.) writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. 100% dialogue. It always feels clunky and unconversational whenever I read it back. I swear the second I start writing talking I forget how conversations work.

18.) thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’d probably throw a simple word here in there of the other language if I’m writing a bilingual speaker or ask a pal to help me with translations because I only know English and I know damn well that friends are better translators than google.

19.) first fandom you wrote for?

Sander Sides! I wrote a solid 500ish prompts for that fandom and like 70k worth of fics. It was what got me into writing and for that I’m so very glad.

20.) Fav fic you’ve ever written?

Definitely my Batman mermaid au. I love it to bits and I’m so proud of the designs and I’m always kinda sad that I’m the only one as enthused about this work as I am. None the less I reread it at least every 3 months and it always makes me smile doing so.

Ooo who to tag… @chromatographic @halfagone @susiron

[caffernnn]

Free! Anniversary Fic Recs 🦋🐋🐬🦈🐧 Can you share your fav fics from each year (2013-2023) Free! has been around?

This is a very fun ask!! Lemme root through my bookmarks and see what I can find 😅

2013 - A lot of the stories I have saved from this time are shorter lil one-shots like “Never Leave” by Shimegami (classic mh hug-it-out interlude fic) and “The Sound of Settling” by teke (feelings realization stuff), but one other one I liked was “The Ocean You Gave My Heart” by miaoujones. Smut warning for that one (if that’s not your thing), but something about desert-bound Makoto learning to swim and indulge in water with Haru, thinking upon meeting him that he’s a wonder whether he’s really a mermaid or not, that’s neat!!

2014 - starting to realize the ones I kept any note of from the early years are some of the popular mh fics probably already recommended 10 times over, but there’s a reason why people sing their praises. If you haven’t checked out fics from tide tothemoon like 2/13189000 (mhtokyo my beloved), their writing is *chef’s kiss* delightful. Another AU I haven’t been able to bring myself to revisit was orihime’s reincarnation stories from “I cannot be without you, matter of fact.” There are two different stories, one where Makoto remembers their past lives and a follow up where Haru remembers, and oh that made me ache dude.

2015 - Speaking of suffering, have y’all checked out Heart’s Departure yet? I think we’ve referenced and talked about that story enough for it to speak for itself 🥴 heartbreaking circumstances but still cosmic and so so beautiful. Then, once you’re done crying about that story, hop over to “Shake the Heavens” by Ad_Astra to break down over (what I described in my ao3 bookmark) Makoto and Haru’s “inherently cataclysmic devotion.” I guess 2015 was the year of shoving the boys into tragic AUs and seeing how much they were willing to give up to get back to each other. A whole vibe

2016 - let’s goooo gamers, more AUs!! “I’d Create Oceans For You” by trashness is a fun fantasy adventure that has both tender moments and interesting action (and some banger art from donguris omggg). If you want something more future-fish-flavored that shows that happily-ever-after doesn’t save you from your grief, “Sublimation” by RedScribbler was great. You can find more of my thoughts on that one if you scroll back a bit in my “fic recs” tag — one of y’all sent it in and yeeees it was so up my alley!

2017 - Alright fellas, there are so many to choose from, because now we’re getting into the macbetha years! Who would I be if I didn’t mention “Eyes Wide Open All The Time” tbh?? It’s a long one with its own hard-hitting involved lore and world-building, but Beth builds this unique story in a way that pulls from the characters we know and love so effectively. I’ve sung the praises for this story multiple times (and could so do it again bro don’t tempt me) but I’ll end off with saying that if you’re fascinated in watching deeply-wounded people who’ve been put through hell learn how to make a life in the aftermath, there’s something special for you here. Aaaand, if you want something about 1/10 the length and not as heavy, “159 (Architect/Interior Designer AU)” by intoxicatedcinnamon has some fun moments 😌 that’s another one where you can find more of my thoughts somewhere in the fic recs tag (love when y’all send me stories 💚💙)

2018 - “Coral and Bone” by Macbetha my beloved!!!! Wanna play mermaids and fight the gods? Maybe try to find that summer magic that makes you want to keep going and accidentally fall in love on the way? I am puuushing you toward this story bestie. Everyone’s here and everyone’s having fun! OH ALSO I’m throwing in “Night Changes” by SEMellark because I love stories where Makoto and Haru actually figure out how to talk to each other. (Side note — a lot of these are probably gonna be things I’ve rec’d in the past, so feel free to scroll my tag for more details and consider this list an extra endorsement 😅)

2019 - (drops basket full of love for mutuals) OOPS OOPS OOPS!!! Don’t mind me, just popping in with some “Let’s Get Married” by sagesprouts and “Anthropocene” by testosterogna, nothing to see here but some classic natsunao shenanigans and one of the sickest elemental bender AUs out there 😌✨ I also have some fics from Svana saved from this year, but I’ll be mentioning her again later so hold on okay!!

2020 - alright, now the list is getting longer with everyone jumping back in during the early pandemic days 🏃🏻‍♀️SO FIRST OFF “green eyes, you’re the one I wanted to find” by infinite_always is an absolute FLUFF FEST of a soulmate AU! Unbearably tender moments but who doesn’t love that every so often? OH AND we have another one of my all-time ultimate fic recs here!! “Reaching” by CupNoodles55 has shaped and reshaped how I look back at Eternal Summer in the way I’d want any great canon-compliant fic to. Big love for interlude scenes and extra bits that help recontextualize or deepen what a moment could’ve meant in the show. Gonna end off 2020 with “The Sea Aflame” by Dizzydodo because even though this urban fantasy story is unfinished, I was super drawn in by the prospects of dragon!Makoto and whatever god stuff was going on with Sousuke. An interesting universe I love thinking about again from time to time.

2021 - Starting off strong with “love on the water, love underwater (and so on)” by rudimentaryflair because we love introspection here!!! Lovely writing style with lines that make me want to scale the walls. This take on Makoto is so so special. Also gonna rec “To Clear Away Today” by suhmayzooka (omg hiiii) if you want to be thrown into another hard-hitting intricate AU with loads of potential. Love exploring what we’ve got to see of the world so far 💞 and OOOH IT’S TIME!! “Extraordinary” by Svana_Vrika is basically canon to me at this point. Svana has a lot of sweet shorter stories with Makoto and Haru (look here, look here), but this one is everythinggg my guy. Similar appeal to “Reaching” mentioned earlier: a story of interludes that bring the story we already know to life in a delightful new way. Required reading for mhtokyo fans forreal. ONE LAST ONE OKAY!! “Teacher” by VeloxVoid is a great future fic with teacher!Makoto and artist!Haru (and I’m not biased just bc it was a gift exchange for me with details fit to my specific tastes wdym🧍🏻). Domestic blisssss

2022 - Ooh we’ve almost caught up y’all ☺️ gonna start with “All This and Heaven Too” by SocksAreArgyle because sometimes the bestie crafts a smorgasbord of smut with a delicious throughline of character/relationship development baked in. If you want your choice of spicy makoharus or some character exploration, you’re SET with this one. Next is “I Let My Heart Go” by martincrieff because sometimes the bestie looks at poor pining Makoto and goes “you know what would be messed up?” AND I JUST !!! So full of love and now full of flower petals. Hanahaki!Makoto my dearest boy!! Aaaand ending off the year with some tender mh (to Ikuya’s detriment) in “The Night Train” by Lizzyboo. They’re so softtt with each other and UGH this story is so nice. Love watching people take the crumbs from FS/FS2 and make a meal 💜

2023 - The year is young! And old! So here’s some more, with who knows how many bangers yet to come 🎉 First going to throw in the Makoharu Week 2023 collection for your perusal because I saw some fantastic stories emerge from that event. If you have twitter, I’d recommend also seeing some of the threadfics posted over there from the event as well 💚💙 and I thiiink I’m gonna close off for now with “just like it was always meant to be” by tonfea because they’ve been putting out banger stories that deserve all the love. Haru introspection is one of those things that isn’t always done very well (which is especially hard to reckon with in older fics) but tonfea’s stories all have an intimate understanding about Haru’s mind and journey that just makes sense.

Alright hello we made it to the end!!! Might’ve thrown in more than expected but I hope makoharu enjoyers find something on this list that fits their fancy 🥲 (and if anyone wants to rec something or ramble about a story here that they loved I’m all ears)

[ashsostrange]

I'm honestly surprised at the amount of people who are still supporting him.He's got his little ((whats left of them at least)) fan base wrapped around his fingers.

“ He’s a minor he cant think for himself, his brain ain't developed!!” “ You don't know what it's like for him at home!” my fav so far “y'all are ablest and racist!! Yall don't care about black people!”

Bitch no one gives a fuck that he is black!! Motherfucker is telling people/threatening to eat glass to get away from what he's said to people. Calling someone out for gaslighting and trying to manipulate people with that shit ain't racist. Also using self diagnosis and laying about taking pill that will “get you high” as a way to get out of all his call outs. This is the stupidest shit I have seen while being on tumblr for the past three or so years like damn!!💆🏾‍♀️

perioddd!! lemme talk my shit again

i honestly giggled when his bf tried to say “y’all hate black people” when pretty much everyone speaking on him is black. why would i do that bc he’s black?? i’m black, not to mention a darskin girl. do with that info what you will.

ppl wna make us seem like bullies so bad. this isn’t just about what happened w catty, hell, it’s hardly about her at all! it’s ab his behavior in general. it’s inappropriate! if he would’ve just owned up, there wouldn’t have been a problem. i’m not obsessed w this nigga, i don’t care to go out of my way to make a post ab him everyday. he’s the one who escalated this further. he only wants us to “mind our business” when we’re not coming for his neck.

ab his mental health, if he doesn’t have a real diagnosis, he needs to not claim mental illnesses like that, but rather acknowledge that something is wrong with him. if you make a mistake, you need to not blame every damn thing on your said mental illness. if anything it’s a justification, but never an excuse. take the initiative to look at yourself and decide if you’re in the right headspace to be on the internet or not. i struggle with mental health, but not in the way he allegedly does. if ik i’m not in the right headspace for something, i step away. he needs to do that. and invest in a diary.

i genuinely don’t know why people are defending him when he did this to himself. if woulda stopped riding my dick like beyoncé rode that surfboard, then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. accountability isn’t a bad thing. we’ve all made mistakes. i know i’ve made many, it’s about how you address them that matters.

i was literally defending his lame ass when he was sending inboxes as an anon to cause more mess between these two girls. yao was saying he was behind the anon and obv i didn’t believe her bc it wasn’t making sense to me at the time, and there was no real way to prove it. but then he started sending her hella inboxes and tagged all his mutuals saying “war has begun” a whole day later. when i tell you i showed one of my bsfs that post and we LAUGHEDD 🤣🤣🤣 nigga this is tumblrrrr, not a battlefield! from that day i’ve been watching him lmao. didn’t wna say anything about his behavior until i gathered more info cuz i’m not a mean girl (and didn’t want his army bombarding my inbox), but this is ridiculous.

and i’m so glad lia dmed me one day so we could discuss his weirdness. we literally played his ass and he didn’t know. bro was sending her msgs talking ab “i liked your new fic, but you blocked me” and he was the only one she had blocked recently. he sent so many hateful msgs under anon after that, nd he was reblogging it acting like it wasn’t him like… ok weird nigga.

i’m not ableist or “racist” (i’m literally fucking black!) fuck i gotta b ableist for? i’m the last person to rock w any kind of tomfoolery, and all my mutuals and irls know that. i’m unapologetically me on this blog. what you see is who i am.

“he’s a minor!!” so are the rest of us dealing with his bs bro. i’m literally SIXTEEN 😭

like i said, in most situations, if multiple people (with good morals) are telling you that you’re wrong, you can’t be right. i was never disrespectful with him to begin with. you get disrespectful with me, i get disrespectful with you. don’t care who you are ✌️like thank yewww

[hiyyihrts]

Just as many of us are thrilled to see rep in s3, many, many women were thrilled at the idea of representation for themselves in s2. It isn’t unreasonable for them to notice the discrepancy in how one actress was treated in comparison to the s1 and s3 white female leads, and it takes nothing away from your love of Nicola / Polin to allow them to express their feelings about that without trying to gaslight them.

It wasn’t the pandemic that made Netflix not do a couple’s poster, or one for Simone alone, or deny requests for joint Johnny and Simone interviews. It wasn’t the pandemic that had Netflix do that and give the EW article to other characters, rather than Simone, Simone and Johnny, or heck, Simone, Johnny, and Charithra. No, y’all essentially got a Polin shoot for s2. Which, yay for you, but think how you’d feel if this season it was all Benedict or Francesca promo instead of Penelope. Wouldn’t you think Netflix was wrong? That it was fatphobic? I would. I therefore think what they did for s2 reeks of racism.

It wasn’t the pandemic that had the writers compare the Sharma sisters to horses, literally, horses in a horse race in s2, and pit them against each other for a white man.

I could go on, people post receipts of this all the time, and you don’t need to take it as personally as many have, but don’t gaslight fans who saw it. Don’t encourage white fans to dismiss the people who are deeply hurt by it. No one is saying not to celebrate what y’all are getting, but there is a discrepancy and pointing it out and demanding better is a good thing that in no way detracts from the fact that Nicola / Polin / s3 is getting everything and more than y’all could ever ask. It’s gross to tell woc to shut the fuck up and be grateful when they got so much less than what the selling point of the show (diversity) promised.

I normally don’t get involved in this kind of stuff but your post was in the Kanthony tag, so I felt it merited a response, knowing how much it would hurt people. People who have already been deeply hurt by Bridgerton and the fandom. This isn’t some kind of shipping war, it’s so much more important, and I’m dismayed at how callous the fandom is being about all this.

I haven’t and will never say that people can’t be upset by the blatant differences in how the seasons have been promoted. Nor have I said anyone shouldn’t talk about it or to be quiet about it. I see now that it was wrong to say the pandemic influenced what went on, bc people have sent me things since indicating that there very much is a lot of racial differences and unfair treatment for both of the leads the last season. It’s true Simone and Johnny both were paid dust, and to have the sister’s stories altered and changed is not something I agree with. I’m not trying to encourage anyone to do anything. The only thing I don’t agree with and I’ve said before is making it seem like any of these actors chose things that production did. I wish Simone and Johnny were featured more in this season and got more than what they did in the last! It’s Netflix and Shonda that are the ones pushing these things and deciding what does or doesn’t happen. Blaming the actors for it doesn’t do anything because they don’t have a say in what is or isn’t done, that’s all Netflix and Shonda. I don’t understand throwing vitriol over couples and actors who don’t decide things. I don’t agree with anyone doing that. And I’ll make it clear now that I don’t agree with Netflix or Shonda or condone anything they’ve done that has hindered Johnny and Simone in any way, shape, or form, or has caused fans to come after them for starring in a show and playing characters that people connect with and love dearly. I wish there would’ve been better representation than what we were given, and I hope the future seasons have even better representation and they take the criticism over racist descriptions and lack of promotion to their heads and it actually clicks that what they did wasn’t fair or right.

[ceebit]

okay let me do my new year post now bc i will most definitely be dragged out to party and then promptly pass out 😭

2022 has been a rough year for me, emotionally and physically. i went through a lot this year, academically, personally, mentally—by far one of the worst years i’ve ever pocketed. without getting into details, i hit my lowest point. and not to sound like that, but through kpop i found hope again. like a temporary crutch of sorts.

i joined kpopblr four months ago on september 19th! this blog hit its 4 month mark on the 19th this month, and while i didn’t openly celebrate that milestone on here, i took the time to sit back and really look on how my life has changed since then.

i’ve made so many good memories. and with those memories, i’ve met so many good people here. people that deserve more than the world for being friendly faces (despite not seeing y’all lmao) during my up and coming days. so i gotta shout y’all out because i wouldn’t be as comfortable in this space without u all.

@wonwooridul @seungkwan-s : the first official friends i made here. none of this would have been possible without u two !!! i love u both so so much please. 🤍🤍🤍

@hansolz : for giving me an invite to the caratblr server ): we don’t talk as much but never got to express how grateful i was (and still am) for opening that door for me. i really can’t thank u enough <3

@ the caratblr server : ik im the worst at being active in there but i’m so so happy to be there. being exposed to so many talented creators from writers to giffers and all those in between—it’s been so much fun getting to know u all (from the times i remember discord exists, at least 😭)

@minghao-s : rose my kpop lighthouse………. u are literally the reason behind everything here. i think fondly on that two hour boy group introduction a lot. thank u for taking the time to guide me through all of that. and for taking ur time with me ??? my memory is NOT the best and i do be forgetting things, but thank u for pulling and knocking sense into me ^_^ and ultimately being 1/2 mutuals who like to actively plot my k-demise…..

@wuahae : cat beloved </3 i had to mention the reason why there’s a significant sunwoo shaped crater in my skull. u are at fault for my recent lack of sleep and lack of appropriate decorum during the waking hours. (affectionate) jokes aside thank u for tbz infodumping at odd hours of the night and indulging in my relentless questions <333 hope u get ur vampire media one day 🫶🏽

and to rest my beloveds : @txtkids @caratonce/@silvmoonsky @haylo4ever/@dokyeomblr @haylo4ever @huiranghaes @naptimed @otlwoozi @theloserphenomenon @aceofvernons @woosanhui @98linerz @strawberri-uyu (and if you’re not here i’m so sorry 😭) thank you for filling my dash and literally making tumblr worthwhile each time i long on. my experience woukdnt be the same without y’all. love u all to the moon and back <3

to my readers : you are the reason i create!! the reason i find inspiration to continue to write. thank you for the endless tags and asks and reblogs and comments and everything. if i could hug all 800+ of u, i would. squeezing u all with so so so much love thru this screen. <333

and to my anons : thank you for some of the funniest moments i’ve ever seen in my life. you all r the reason the ask function was made. even if you haven’t come off anon, just know that i cherish each and every single ask you’ve sent to me—responded or not. (terribly sorry if i haven’t, tho… sometimes my brain tricks me into thinking i already have 🥲) hopefully some of you gain the courage to reveal yourselves so we can be friends :)

okay let me wrap this up before i start crying. tmrw starts a whole new year of kpop for me and all of you. here’s to more writings, creations, laughter, and good memories to come.

with love, from (hopefully) your favorite joshua-changbin-sunwoo juyeon-and-now-hongjoong enthusiast,

cece <3

[chvoswxtch]

my LOVES I made it to 1000 followers friends!!!!!!

i’m gonna get emo below the cut BUT first I wanted to announce that the first surprise I have planned for this follower friend celebration is a lil epilogue for my eddie series!

my eddie series was the first piece of writing I ever posted here and I hadn’t even planned to do a series, or think that anyone would actually read it, but you were all so kind and supportive and loved it as much as I did that it only felt right to kick this celebration off with where it all began. a lot of you found me because of this series, and kept up with it the whole time and asked to be notified when new parts came out, so I wanted to give y’all a heads up that it will be coming tomorrow! if you’d like to be tagged in this as well, please let me know! ❤️

ok here’s your last warning i’m about to get emo ✨

I started this blog earlier this year as an escape. the social media apps I was using were getting so negative and toxic, and I was also just going through a lot and needed a more positive outlet that wasn't completely draining. tumblr has always been a safe space for me, and i'm so immensely happy I found my way back to it. I have met so many amazing people here, made so many wonderful friends, and thanks to each and every one of you i’ve been able to reignite my passion for writing. you have all been so lovely, so kind, so supportive and precious, and I adore every single one of you. i’ll never be able to say thank you enough, or really put into words how much this community means to me.

to anyone that has ever read, liked, commented, reblogged, sent a request, sent a sweet little message, recommended me, asked for more-thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you, and I appreciate you. ❤️✨

if you're still reading, I do have another little surprise coming thursday. my requests are open, so feel free to submit one! let's get this party started!

[crimsonblackrose]

Oh ho! He is upset that Scott was kidnapped. Also major kudos to Control for finally saying “It’s not me you’re really mad, is it?” Because Mr. McCall does that every single time.

Look at him all worried about his friend.

I’ve seen this movie before. Beauty has been imprisoned, now where’s the beast? 🤣

I love these two. I appreciate that Control is helping. I mean he always helps but he and Robert both kind of suck when it comes to Scott....maybe actually the person who should save him is Mickey. Mickey is the only one who can placate everyone in this oddball family.

There’s too much at stake here, I’m going to ask you a favor Robert, will you head up this operation?

Control...Should the guy pissed off because these people accidentally screwed up and also took his son actually be in charge of the situation? You know Robert, he’s great at saving the average lady who no one believes or small child trying to help their parents but when it comes to his son he tends to shoot himself in the foot, and any time you’re around he takes all his anger out on you...maybe you should send him to Bermuda. 🤣

Mr. McCall did you just put your glasses on to think, make a decision and then take them off again?

They recast Kay! (Scott’s mom) She was originally played by Sandy Dennis, this is Shirley Knight. Robert: Our son has gotten himself stuck in an international incident. Kay: So what are you doing about it? Robert: I’m going to get him out of course. Kay: *Scoffs* of course, McCall to the rescue.

These two...I’m very curious if they talk more about their life together/Scott because the so far what we know about Kay from Scott is. She moved on, her mother is sick.And from her we know she remarried quite awhile ago, and that she hasn’t really seen Scott all that much to the point she thought Robert knew more. I think that’s since changed because Scott went with her to Colorado or something until she bailed and went to Florida and he came home. And he didn’t try to spend teh holidays with her.

So I think...I think both of them sent Scott off to boarding school at a young age and haven’t really been parents until recently. But I’m very curious if this tries to course correct that.

So Robert...you just said you introduced this music guy to Scott and he’s been wonderful, like a father to him. Sir...you’re Scotts father. Are you seriously out here trying to pawn Scott off on other people and admitting it to your ex-wife?

Kay: I hope you get him back Robert, for your sake.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? Are you talking about Scott or the ex-agent. Like these two are the most bizarre parents. Scott, honey I’m so sorry. Everyone in Scott’s life is just...so blase about him being in danger. I mean he got a sister and then she thought he was dead and was just like *shrug*. 

“I’m not going to lose another child because of your work. I’m going to stay until Scott is safe.”

Ah yes, back to toss William Zabka around hour. 🤣 Out of bizarre family melodrama and back into international incident.

This guy literally just shoved Scott against the wall and said “You are our guest. And you will behave like one” I’m waiting for some singing teapots.

I’m sorry, I know I’m making beauty and the beast jokes but y’all they pulled Scott out of the dungeons and dumped him in a nicer room by himself away from his injured adopted father figure *cough* ex-spy music instructor.

Mickey! He kind of looks like he’s been dragged out of bed at 2 am again or at least like he’s been listening to these two argue for hours.

I’m voting Mickey is running on 0 sleep. Just based off the facial journey he went through which was mostly rubbing at his face like he was trying to stay awake for a full background shot.

Control: How many people do you need? Mickey and Robert mumbling to one another: Two guys Control: 2 men? That’s it?

Robert: *glasses on and off on and off* Well Mickey might tag along.

Mickey: You know, for the group photo session.

Control: I’m so sick of both of you. (LIterally the final part of that scene is him looking like this, opening his mouth like he’s about to say something, then it cuts away) Like no, he’s got no response to their dumb sarcastic jokes. (Mickey truly is Robert’s work son)

What’s the plan man? “Take you home” very long pause (to be tried and shot)

oh man they’re brothers. Oof.

I...I know fear does things to people, but she waltzed in and wanted to know why Scott wasn’t in the papers. Ma’am he’s been kidnapped by a different government you seriously think “You music prodigy kidnapped by foreign powers and trapped here in our city” would be in every newspaper article? Especially when you know spies are involved. I...ma’am, you were married to a spy, why would you even wonder about such a thing?

Okay, taking bets now. Anyone want to guess why he’s choking up and nearly in tears? Anyone?

Don’t be shy. An episode with his ex-wife and his son being kidnapped is the main point of this episode. So what could it possibly be?

Did you guess dead daughter Kathy? Congrats you’re right!

I just...I get it’s a big deal, but your son is alive. Clearly these two never healed from that and rather than reach out to Scott and love him even harder they splintered and sent him away and the poor guy’s spent his whole life trying to help other people for scraps of love.

I’d also like to point out he was half way out the door to go rescue Scott when she came in and now the two of them are sitting having a heart to heart about Kathy.

Scott, marry the beast.

^This is how I feel. But what’s actually happening is she asked him how he’s going to handle if Scott dies because of his job and his honor.

Meanwhile Scott alone, all by himself, in a very nice room with a ton of booze and books.

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

Gods and Monsters

Marc Spector x Goddess!Reader, Steven Grant x Goddess!Reader, eventual Jake Lockley x Goddess!Reader

Part 2

Greek Mythology Crossover

Part 1

A/N: Hello lovelies! Part 2 is finally here! I apologize for taking a long time to finally update, I’ve been going through a lot lately 😅. But I hope you enjoy! Reblogs and feedback is much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts! And let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You were sent on a mission to investigate and put a stop to a string of supernatural activities that had been picked up. Using your gifted senses, your trail eventually leads you to the steps of a museum, where you stumble upon the unexpected.

Warnings: language, smoking, violence, sexual themes, plot with smut?

You had just ended the call with your close friend Diana, tapping your phone lightly against your chin as you pondered on a plan. A part of you thought it would be a bad idea, a risky one at that, of what you had in mind. After all, meddling in mortal affairs tended to lead down a winding path that led to no end, not because it was in any way perilous, but because of what you had seen in your years spent walking upon the mortal earth.

Time had taught you that the human race and their rulers had proven themselves to be of a barbaric nature, a species prone to violence and deceit displayed through acts of war and power. A species no different than a virus that only multiplied and multiplied as it plagued upon the earth, consuming and destroying everything that laid upon its path until there was nothing left, not even the dirt and ash scattered amongst the ground. You had seen many wars in your lifetime, each one as bloody as the next, and each the same as before; the powerless against the powerful. And each time, there came only one outcome; the blood of the innocents spilt at the hands of the guilty.

And yet, they were capable of so much more. Like the extent of their compassion in which they would sacrifice themselves for those who needed help, their excellence and their creativity for the arts, their passion in the very things that drove them to their existence. Their many endeavors of exploration and their capacity to push themselves to be the best they can be. Their ability to love and provide joy to those who had none. And during times of hardship and tragedies, their ability to come together and carry so much hope no matter how dark the future may seem. You had once tried to advocate for the humans many many centuries ago amongst the council of the gods, back when you were of a much younger age, back when you were naïve and did not see what humanity would spiral into.

‘The humans cannot change. They are not worth fighting for.’ They’d say.

‘Look at what they do to each other. Look of what they have done to the very earth that they inhabit. There’s no use interfering in their affairs. They’d only revert back to the way they were.’ They’d say next.

But your pleas fell on deaf ears, for they did not listen and only warned you of the consequences your actions would lead to and how your efforts would come bearing no fruit. Many of the gods still despised Prometheus for bestowing fire upon the humans those many millenniums ago, many of whom still believed that man should have been left in the dark. And as time went on, and greed and corruption spread rampant amongst the people like a smokeless wildfire, you found yourself at times losing hope. You began to think the human race to be incompetent and incapable of learning from their mistakes, like an endless wheel of pain and suffering without any chance of recuperation.

How many years has it been? And still one does not see the other as their equal. Perhaps you believed all of it to be true, all those things that you were taught and told back on Olympus since you were a child. Maybe the gods were right and maybe you finally started to see the truth in their statements. And so you began to reflect as years went by, using your own experiences and what you have witnessed as reasons to separate from the human race as farthest as possible. And slowly, with time, the words of others began to transform into an ideology. And maybe, just maybe, the kind-hearted goddess you were once known as was no more, lost to the lack of faith that once brightened her.

You pondered for a moment longer on your decision, biting your lip as you watched Steven from afar. The certain plan that played out in your mind had a chance of not ending the way you had intended it to. But something had to be done, and you were the only one capable of accomplishing the task. You did not know why or how, but something was not quite right with Steven, you had sensed it since he first stumbled into you. Whether he had a direct hand in this otherworldly energy or not was not yet within your wisdom or familiarity. But it was something that you were going to solve no matter what. And if the time came that a choice had to be made between him and the endangerment of others, you knew what had to be done.

“Fuck it.” You muttered to yourself. With your posture straight and your head held high, the mortals around you moved out of your way due to your countenance, your face colder than your very demeanor as you headed over to where the man stood with his back facing you while he organized the different products.

You approached the gift shop with the clacks of your block heels, leaning against the counter as you rested your forearms on the glossy surface. Your pointed fingernails drummed against the top of the white counter in soft clicks as you ran your eyes over the dark curls on his head and down his back. Gods how a part of you wanted to run your fingers through those very same curls, to drag your nails down the back of his scalp before pulling at the hairs of his nape just to see what noise you would be able to extract from those very lips of his as if you were concocting one of your potions. He reminded you so much of your old lovers; of the painters, sculptors, musicians, and warriors of Ancient Greece and Rome that once captured your heart. You watched the man move around for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to the days of old while your eyes followed him around before clearing your throat teasingly. “Excuse me.”

Steven had turned around at the sound of your voice, thinking you to be a customer until he saw that it was you instead, nearly dropping the postcards from his hands in the process as he stuttered out your name. “Y-y/n.”

“Her again? What does she want?” Marc eyed you with distrust. “Steven don’t talk to her.”

“Hey there…Steven.”

“Oh ello. I-uh-I didn see you there.” Steven set the stack of postcards down in fear that he would drop them from the sweat that started to form on his palms as he stepped up to the counter, ignoring the warnings of Marc that rung out in his head. “Was just uh…….setting up these postcards here. You looking to buy something? We’ve got um….little stuffed Tawerets……and uh, these gummies here, which is odd because they didn’ have gummies back in ancient Egypt now did they.”

“No, they didn’t actually.” You chuckled softly, respecting the passion Steven had behind the history of the ancient Egyptians. “Their foods were mostly comprised of breads, dates, figs, lentils, and vegetables and that sort of stuff. They did love their garlic though.”

“Right, yeh exactly. If anythin’, we should be offering dried figs or dates even. Not these….things.” Steven waved the packet of gummies around as he nodded his head in agreement, his pupils ever so slightly expanding in size as he stared at you. He was once again smitten by the fact that you knew these small details, details that he would spend hours engrossing himself in whenever he stuck his nose within the aged pages of an old book. For the first time, he felt as if he was finally able to hold a conversation with someone that would not judge him, someone that he was able to ramble on to about the many magnificent attributes that made the culture of Ancient Egypt so special and fascinating. “So uh, anything here catch your eye? Even with the lack of dried figs.”

“Actually, I’m not really looking to buy any uh…..merchandise.”

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nah.” You glanced down at your nails for a brief second before looking up at him again. “Unless you're for sale."

"What?"

"What?"

"Nothing." You corrected yourself. Gods you were starting to sound like someone you once knew. "Listen. You got any plans for tonight?”

“Um….uh…..plans?” Steven blinked, not sure if his ears heard you correctly. Were you asking him on a date? Can’t be. A woman of your stature asking a man like him.

“Yeah. You know, are you busy or doing anything later?“

“Say no Steven.”

“I-uh…..I-uh-“

“Are you always this articulate?” You smirked, quirking a brow in amusement from the way you had left him fumbling for words.

“Steven-“

“Umm….no? I don’ think so, no.”

“Soooo, you got any plans tonight or you just trying to find a nice way to brush me off.”

“Uh no…….nothing like that, just work…stuff really.” Steven glanced over to see that his manager was approaching with her face buried in the clipboard that was held in her hand. Oh god.

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me tonight."

“M-me?” Steven gulped, pointing at himself as a blush dusted across his cheeks.

"Yeah. There’s this cool place called Fitz’s bar and they’re having a noir murder mystery night, there’ll be jazz and everyone will be dressed in the era. If that’s not your thing then we can go to this Art Deco style restaurant called Bob Bob Ricard and the food is to die for.”

“S-sorry, you want me…to go with you…to dinner?” Steven questioned, making sure that his ears had not deceived him. You…wanted to invite him….to dinner? And not just any dinner, the places you mentioned were exclusive. Steven was almost questioning his sanity at this point. First Marc, now you. Were you a part of his imagination as well? You had to be. Women barely asked him out to anything, much less something like dinner. God, a tux. He didn’t even own a tux or a decent enough suit. What was he going to wear, a jumper?

“Yes you.” You gave a playful roll of your eyes with a small laugh before nodding over to the security guard who had been curiously watching the interaction between the two of you, the one whom you had heard refer to Steven as Scotty. “It’s obviously not Walmart version Larry Daley over there.”

“Walmart vers-you mean JB?” Steven furrowed his brows at your statement before realizing you were making a reference to the film Night at the Museum.

“That’s what I said.”

So he wasn’t imagining it, Steven thought to himself. You really did mean him. “Sorry.” Steven shook his head. “I just…hang on, aren’t those places-you know…expensive, reservations only sort of thing?”

“Steven, you precious little soul,” you sighed with a smile, shifting your weight to rest your hand on your waist, “I’m pretty sure I can afford it.”

“What did she just call you?”

“Right. Sorry, I’ve just….never really been invited to dinner or anythin’ like that. I don’ even really own any suits or anythin’ of the sort.”

“That’s not an issue.” You straightened up, pulling out your phone and running your eyes over Steven’s frame while he blushed under your gaze. “I’ll have one of my men get one for ya.”

“Did she just say ‘one of her men’? What is she, mafia?” Marc narrowed his eyes at you. It was almost as if the longer you stuck around, the more suspicious you became.

“I..uh…..” Steven struggled. The poor soul did not have the capability to say a single word, nor did he even have a chance to take in anything that you had said to him. “Hang on, did you just say you’re gettin’ me a tux.”

“Well yeah.” You quirked a brow. “Can’t have you lookin like that to Fitz's.”

“You hear that Steven?” Marc tried to make a point in order to get through Steven’s thick skull. “Curator or not, she just insulted you. I told you she’s bad news.”

“Sorry, did you just say something?”

“Ain’t no way…”

“No.” Steven shook his head vigorously, his curls falling out of place from the action while his face paled in complexion ever so slightly.

“Huh.” You pressed your tongue against the side of your molars, squinting your eyes at the man before raising your brows in unison with a drop of your shoulders. “Must’ve been the wind, oh well.”

“Wait……don’ you need my size, or anythin’ like that?”

“Nah.” You scrunched your nose, shaking your head in response. “I already have it figured out. Plus, I have the perfect tailor, one of the best.”

“You do?” Steven tilted his head at you. How ever did you manage to get his measurements just by looking at him.

“How does she…..” Even Marc had stood in confusion as he watched you from the reflection of a display case nearby. Here he was, attempting to warn Steven, to tell him to not trust you nor even speak a single word to you. But your actions had managed to catch even the stern mercenary off guard.

“Mhm.” You nodded your head as you typed away on your phone, sending in an order for your tailor before pulling out your business card from your pocket, holding the thing between your index and middle finger as you handed it over across the counter. “Here is my card if you need to contact me. It has my office number at the Louvre as well as my colleague’s.”

Steven took the card from you, his thumb brushing against the textured surface as he glanced down at the gold embossed letters that sat elegantly against the thick alabaster toned card stock.

Musée du Louvre

Curators of Greek Antiquities

Diana Prince and Y/f/n “Kate” Y/l/n

“Steven don’t. She’s most likely a fraud.”

“You got a pen I can use real quick?”

“Umm…….just this one.” Steven pulled out a simple ballpoint pen from the front pocket of his jacket as he handed it to you, his hand nearly shaking from the simple process.

“Thanks.” You took the pen from him with a quick smile, your fingertip brushing against the tip of his. You knew exactly what you were doing.

Steven nearly shuddered at the contact. The touch was like a jolt of ice as he shivered underneath his layers as if a strong breeze had just drifted past him. He wasn’t sure if it was you or the air conditioning of the place that made him want to throw on an extra layer.

“If you are unable to reach me through my office,“ you leaned across the counter to take Steven’s hand, “you can contact me through my personal cell.”

Steven widened his eyes at your move, watching you gently turn his palm facing up. Your hands were surprisingly softer and warmer than he had expected, like they were made of the softest silk known to the world. It was almost as if he was being cradled by a cloud in the middle of spring. And yet, despite the warmth that radiated off you, your touch was like fresh snowfall in the midst of autumn, where frost formed like crystallized mosaics across the delicate petals of a rose.

His gaze fell down to your mouth as you pressed the pen between your lips, pulling the cap off with your teeth and holding it there as you wrote your number on the skin of his palm. He felt as if he were in a dream; his hand held in yours, your warm fingers slightly caressing the skin of his knuckles as you held his hand up to write down your digits. His eyes trailed once more along the features of your face, admiring the curl of your long lashes that fluttered down to graze the top of your cheekbones before lingering on the cap of his pen held between your plump pink lips.

“There you go.” You mumbled out before popping the cap back on his pen and handing it back to him with a soft smile. “Now you have my number. If you have any questions or whatsoever, just give me a call.”

“Oh….ok.”

“See you tonight Steven.” Your lips curled into a smirk as you gave the man a wink, brushing the side of your hooked forefinger gently under his chin before walking away. You could not help but to cross your fingers, hoping that everything would fall according to plan as your mind once again drifted to your dagger that sat hidden underneath your coat, held within the strap on your back. The cold metal antagonized you through the silk of your blouse, its blade sharp and heavy with the burden that carried with it.

Steven had stared after you as you went. Your little gesture had made his face redder than the very packets of the gummies he thought to be useless to the theme of the museum. Did that really just happen just now? And that chin thing. What was it and why did it make him feel that way?

“Did she just….” Marc muttered as he watched you leave out the front doors. His dark eyes were widened in perplexity as his brows furrowed together at the center. Did you really just offer to take Steven out on a date? Steven fucking Grant? The same Steven Grant that the average person would walk straight through if given the opportunity. In fact, now that he thought about it, you had been so confident and forward during the little exchange that you had not even given the poor man a chance to fully process just what it was you were asking of him. You just showed up, gave your number and said you were picking him up later tonight, leaving barely any room for questions.

But the one thing that had Marc completely dumbfounded beyond all his years and all that he has seen as a mercenary and as Khonshu’s avatar, was that you were going to get Steven a tux. What normal person was so willing to get someone that they have just met, a brand new suit. On top of that, the average person usually was not able to afford a tailor, and you had mentioned yours was one of the best. Just how wealthy were you? First the cashmere Burberry coat and the Christian Louboutin ankle boots. Now your own tailor and an invitation to an exclusive bar? Wait a minute. Did he…no, it can’t be. Is this what he thought it was? Does this mean………………did that make them your sugar baby?

“Stevie you rascal.” Donna sidled up to the counter, a hand on her hip as she chewed loudly on her gum, glancing at the ink on his palm. “What was that all about?”

“I don’ know.” Steven stared down at the blue ink on his palm that wrote out your number. He was still in shock as he read over the individual digits and the print across the card held in his hand. It all had happened so fast. “………I think she just asked me out on a date.”

“Think yer bein’ funny do ya? A girl like her with the likes of you?” Donna looked him over with distaste.

“Well that’s rather insulting innit.”

“It’s the truth Stevie.”

“Well it didn’ seem to bother her. She gave me her business card and-“

“Her card?” Donna scrunched her nose. “Whatever for?”

“She said she was a curator at the Louvre.”

“A curator at the Louvre?” Donna scoffed. “She’s definitely pullin’ your leg, that one.”

“Well it didn’ seem like she was pullin’ anythin’.” Steven sassed slightly. “Said she wanted me to accompany her to dinner at The Fitz’s or Bob Bob Ricard tonight.”

“Fitz’s? Bob Bob Ricard? Tonight?” Donna let out a laugh, not believing a single thing that flew out of Steven’s mouth. “What’re ye, a bloody idiot? Only thing you’re on tonight is inventory.”

Steven’s face dropped at the mention as Donna walked away, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. The poor man had been so caught up with being in your mere presence that he had completely forgotten that he was working late tonight. How in hell did you manage to have such a hold over him where neither time nor reality seemed to exist. Should he let you know? Maybe he can ask to leave a little early. Or maybe if he worked fast enough, he would be able to get off in time. And as Steven stared down at your number that you had written on his palm, the dark blue ink almost taunting him, he could not help but think about what Donna had just said, her words sinking into him like the stones cast out across a lake. Perhaps she was right. Maybe you were ridiculing him.

You could not help but squint against the bright sunlight with a small hiss once you had exited the museum, its bright rays seeming to pierce right through you. Pulling your shades down over your eyes, you had half a mind to go out in the sun more after being cooped up in the dark for so many of your days as you reached into your pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. You had stood at the top of the small set of steps next to one of the pillars, shrouded underneath the shade with a cigarette between your lips as you pulled up your lighter to the end, cupping your hand around the flame until someone came to stand beside you nearly causing you to drop the thing.

“I thought you were going to handle it.”

“Shit!” You hissed, nearly biting through the cigarette held between your teeth as you turned to see the familiar god of the underworld through the tint of your purple sunglasses. “Fuckin hells. I thought you went home.”

“And I thought you were going to fix the situation.”

“I thought I already told you. I am.” You dropped your arms in exasperation before lighting up your cigarette in another try.

“Oh? How so?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all worked out. I’m going to keep an eye on him tonight.” You put away your lighter with a click of the metal once you lit the end.

“By keeping an eye on him, you mean asking him out on a date."

"What, you eavesdropping now?" You blinked, turning to face the tall and grim god. "Did ya hear anything else worthwhile while you were SNOOPING around?"

"No not really, except for that you're taking the mortal out to, what was it, dinner?"

"And?"

"Hekate, my sweet, my little raven, my little.......accomplice," Hades lowered himself to put his arm casually around your shoulder while you only rolled your eyes, "when I said to do what it takes, I didn't mean SLEEP WITH HIM!"

“Yikes. Since when did asking someone out to dinner mean doing the devil’s tango.”

“The devil’s tango?”

“You know, COPULATING.” You shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“You know what I meant Hekate. He’s a mort-“

“And if I did? Not like I haven’t done it before.” You raised a brow as you held your cigarette between your two fingers, blowing smoke from your lips and surrounding your area with the scent of lavender as you pulled it out.

“You wouldn’t.” Hades widened his eyes.

“Relaaaax big guy, don't get your chiton in a twist. I’m not going to do anything you wouldn’t do, until the time comes that I decide to do what you wouldn’t do.”

“You wouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t-“ Hades tilted his head with a scrunch of his nose, scratching the stubble on his jaw as he repeated what you just said to him with a mutter. “Is that some kind of code?”

“No. It’s English.”

“Very funny.”

“Geez, what crawled up your ass and died, huh? You’ve been acting cranky all day.”

“Nothing crawled up my ass and died, thank you.” Hades clenched his jaw.

“Then what?”

“………..Nothing.”

“Uh huh, sure. Listen, HADES,” you brushed the dust off his expensive suit, “why don’t you take a little vacation huh. Kick your feet up on the beach, go get a martini or something and go home to your wife before she gets worried. And maybe even get a tan while you’re at it, you’ve been looking a little pale these days. And most importantly,” you tightened your fingers around the collar of his suit with a sweet smile before yanking him down to your eye level, “LEAVE ME ALONE.”

“Yeah that’s brilliant. Why didn’t I think of it before.” Hades rolled his eyes in a monotone voice. “Oh wait that’s right, I have a full-time gig in the land below while the other gods lounge about in the sky.”

“Just take a break will ya.” You let him go before taking another drag of your cigarette. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“………..So what now?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna linger around a bit, see what else I find.”

“You really feel he has something to do with this don’t you.” Hades watched you put the cigarette out.

“Uh yeah. Or else I wouldn’t go through all this trouble.”

“Is there anything else you noticed?”

“Well, he comes on with his big, innocent-gift shop-boy routine, but I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute.” You scoffed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Voices.”

“Voices?” Hades furrowed his brows with a grimace, glancing down at the cement before staring at you in a combination of concern and unease. “You’re not hearing-“

“Tsk. No not me. I meant Steven.”

“Steven who?”

“Steven from the gift shop. The one mortal who’s been the topic of our conversation. Keep up will ya.”

“So what…….like ‘Son of Sam’ voices or that one bald guy?”

“You mean Charles Xavier? That’s called telepathy. And no, wonderboy here is different.”

“Wonder boy?” Hades scrunched his nose.

“As in Steven, Hades. STEE-VUN. For the love of Dionysus’s wine. Like I said, this one is different.”

“Different HOW, exactly?” Hades placed both his hands on your shoulders and squeezed the muscles there slightly. “Different as in I need to bring in my minions? Or different as in you’re gonna pull apart that little brain of his.”

“Different as in I’ll have it figured out by tonight.” You snarked as you peeled his hands off your shoulders. “Just don’t loose your curls over it yeah? Besides, I’ve got him wrapped completely around my little finger.”

“What, did you hex him or something?”

“Nope, just the good ole fashioned charm and my very irresistible personality, of course. Something that you yourself need to work on.”

“Irresistible my rear-“ Hades rolled his eyes before stopping abruptly. His head slowly turned to look at you for a moment, his eyes wandering over your form while a sly smile slowly crept its way onto his lips as a thought popped into his head. “Ohhhh.”

“What?” You made a face at the way his eyes ran over you. Sure, the two of you were close friends no matter how many times you both managed to get on each other’s nerves, but the way he looked you over made you jump back and forth from wanting to either gag in repulsion or turn him into a toad. “The hells are you looking at me like that for? You tryna catch a whammy or wha-“

“That’s perfect!”

“What?!” You growled between your gritted teeth.

“YOU, my little fiery goddess, can use your BEAUTY to lure him in!”

“Are you always such an idiot, or do you just show off when I’m around?”

“Huh-“

“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time huh? Selling car insurance?”

“Look, all I’m trying to say is keep up the good work.”

“I can’t believe I put up with you.” You muttered under your breath with a roll of your eyes. How ever did you manage to run the underworld with him after all those centuries.

“You got a dress picked out?”

“Noooo.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically. “I’m going to wear my jammies.”

“You’re mocking me aren’t you.”

“Then don’t ask stupid ass questions.”

“You’re a real pain you know that.”

“And I’m good at it. Listen, the dress part is easy: a quick flick of the wrist and I’m done. The hard part is figuring out what the hell is wrong with Wonder Boy back there.” You cleared up before letting out a short whistle to summon your Doberman. You waited for a couple seconds, your face stern and your arms crossed over your chest until a smile formed on your lips once you saw the familiar black and brown fur approach in the distance, weaving his way through the crowd with his tail wagging in the air as he went up the stairs to stand at your feet. “There you are! Good boy!” You cooed with small kissing noises, squatting down to cradle the sides of your dog’s face and giving him a scratch behind his ears.

“Wait, you bring your dog with you?”

“Well yes. I’m always taking Aragorn and Hecuba for a walk.” You turned to look up at Hades from your spot near the floor. “Though I don’t think the humans would be accustomed to seeing a three-headed Rottweiler roaming the streets.”

“But Cerberus doesn’t bite.” Hades frowned, the ends of his lips pulled downwards. He wished he could take Cerberus for a walk like you did with your own two dogs. But you were right, the world has changed. He could not just bring Cerberus out from the underworld like he used to.

“Try telling the humans that.” You straightened up. “Listen, I’m going to grab something to eat. You need anything?”

“No…….but thanks.”

“Get some rest ok.” You told Hades before heading down the stairs with your dog Aragorn, stopping at the middle to turn back to the god. “Just make sure the humans don’t see you alright. I’m not tryna cast a bunch of memory spells today. I mean it!” You called out out before watching Hades walk away with a wave in your direction to make sure he did not pull any tricks, his tall and dark figure disappearing into the bustling crowd. As you headed back towards your car, working your way through the bustling crowd of people much too preoccupied with the screen of their phones to pay any real attention to the world around them, you pulled out your own phone from your pocket to see if Steven had sent you a message, only to be met with the blankness of your lock screen. Nothing. Not a single call nor a single text.

“Don’t fail me know Steven.” You muttered to yourself with a sigh, going to put it away until you felt it vibrate in your hands. Lifting the device back up with a furrow of your brows, hoping it was who you thought it would be, you saw a new number appear at the center of your screen, Steven’s.

It was not long till day had turned to night, when the bright golden rays of the warm sun transformed into shades of magentas, corals, and lilacs that painted across the sky like brushstrokes of acrylic across a blank canvas before being claimed by the dark indigos of the night. During that time in which you had distracted yourself with activities like getting a cup of coffee and taking Aragorn for a walk around the area and finishing a few chapters of the book you were currently reading. But now, the area that was once swarming with tourists and locals alike that came to visit the museum, had now died down to the remaining employees and the few people that were just passing through outside the museum gates to get to whatever their location may be.

A few hours had passed after the sun had already set past the horizon, when the skies became dark and Artemis’s silver chariot darted across the heavens to pull with it the celestial body of the moon that came to take its place amongst the stars, a time where your magic and your powers were at their strongest. You had always cherished the moon, using its luminescence to light your path during those many nights where you spent wandering about the woods and forest barefoot, savoring in the feeling of your toes sinking into the soft moss and the night breeze brushing against your cheek.

It was a full moon tonight, the silvery orb perched high above you, nestled between the shimmering of the stars that tried so desperately to surpass it. There was something different about it tonight, a slight change in its color that casted the earth below in somewhat of an ominous glow. And though you were unbothered by energy such as this, there was this certain eeriness that clung to the atmosphere that a mere mortal would find unsettling. And with a full moon out, its brilliance displayed for all to see, who knew what lycanthropes lurked about at a night like this.

Perhaps that could have been the cause of the supernatural activity that was picked up and why you were sent to investigate it. Maybe a few of them had escaped. Being the goddess of the creatures of the night, most of the demons like the Empusae fell under your command, but the Lycanthrope; known for their bloodthirst, were another story. And if that were the case, you had better keep a careful watch. The last thing you needed was a lycanthrope running wild and risking exposure to your kind.

The music of soft rock had been playing through the speakers of your radio as you laid back on the cherry red leather seat of your classic black convertible, a hand folded across your stomach as you stared up at the night sky. Aragorn on the other hand had fell asleep, his head nestled upon your lap as you stroked the furs of his head, your eyes searching for whatever few constellations you were able to make out due to the pollution that concealed the wonders of the worlds that lied beyond.

You began to miss the view from back home on Olympus, the way the stars blanketed the night sky as if someone had scattered mountains of diamonds into the heavens in order to form the galaxies that you were able to see with the naked eye. Gods were they a sight to behold and oh how you wished to share it with someone.

Some time had passed as you waited for Steven to clock off after he told you that he would be getting off late, a bit to your inconvenience though you did not mind. After all, time worked differently for you and the gods. A year for the humans was like the blink of an eye for you. And as you lingered, waiting patiently, you could not help the lids of your eyes that became heavy with your relaxed state, threatening you to a state of slumber until the buzzing of your phone jerked you awake. As you pulled it out, the brightness of your screen nearly blinding you, you saw that Steven had sent you a message. He had just gotten off.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath from the notification as you shifted in your seat in an attempt to get up and unfortunately woke up Aragorn in the process. You muttered out a few apologies to your dog as you straightened up and reached over to open your glove compartment, checking to see that your two essential items were still in there, the two things that you would soon have to choose from in order to decide how this night would end. The silver glint of your dagger and the golden glow of the lasso that Diana had sent you after you had called her for a favor. “Gods help me.”

Closing your glove compartment, you clumsily got out of your seat with a grunt as your dog straightened up, watching you with curiosity as you flicked your wrist. A glowing shimmer of a mist-like cloud the shades of amethyst and violet formed around you as your hair styled itself, forming into curls, and your current attire materialized into something more formal; a pair of Art Deco style diamond drop earrings, black lace peep-toe Christian Louboutin heels, and a Prada dress, the one that you had chosen to wear for your “date” with Steven.

It was a simple dress, elegant, with just the perfect amount of skin where it would not be considered immodest, but it also matched the theme of Fitz’s noir murder mystery night. But most importantly, it was enough to get Steven entranced with your presence. The dress itself was of a deep wine red, the fabric made of the finest velvet that hugged your waist perfectly without having to be too constricting, allowing movement on your part. And the design was that of the evening dresses of the 1930’s, from its asymmetrical/one-shoulder long sleeve that had a slit down its middle starting from your shoulder and stopping above your elbow, to the slit of the ankle-length skirt that ran up your leg and ended at the middle of your thigh. The dress was beautiful nonetheless, and as you ran your maroon nails over the softness of the velvet, you couldn’t help but feel like those old Hollywood actresses you so adored.

“How do I look?” You turned around with your arms out spread to show your dog, who only looked up at you with his big brown eyes and a tilt of his head before giving you an excited bark in reply.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You muttered out, looking at yourself through the side view mirror of your car and fluffing your hair before letting out another hiss. You had been so focused with what you were going to wear, that you had completely forgotten about your makeup. After rummaging through your small makeup bag and doing a quick winged liner and painting your lips a carmine red, cleaning up the edges with your pinkie finger, you turned towards the museum to see that Steven had just now left the front entrance and was beginning to head your way.

“Shit.” You turned back to your dog. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to go Aragorn.” You sighed, kissing your dog on the head before moving your hands in a circular motion and teleporting him back home in a quick flash of purple. Gods you hoped that tonight would end well, you thought as you quickly straightened yourself out, putting away your things to make room for Steven before leaning back against the hood of your car, arms folded across your chest as you watched Steven’s form become bigger and bigger the closer he came.

Meanwhile, as he headed your way, Marc had been arguing with Steven ever since he clocked off, the two of them caught up in a verbal battle. The poor fellow had been fending off the mercenary’s protests in regards to how you should not be trusted and how your intentions were deceitful towards him. Steven had tried desperately to ignore the man, but it was hard to turn a deaf ear to someone that practically lived inside his head.

“Steven, I swear if you don’t turn around and go back home.” Marc fumed.

“Or what? You gonna take over and catch a cab back to your miserable little life? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date.”

“Steven. STEVEN!”

“You’ve made it.” You gave a smile once you saw him approach. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Sorry bout that. I sort of forgot I was on inventory duty tonight and-“ Steven had his gaze lowered to his bag, his hand rummaging in there as if he were about to pull something out until the black shine of your car caught his eye. “Bloody hell, is that a-“

“1968 Corvette L71? Sure is.”

“This,” Steven stared wide-eyed at the black beauty parked before him, his eyes glazing over the body and the red interior as he bent over to get a closer look. “This is your car?”

“There’s no way.” Marc shook his head, refusing to believe that you drove a car like this, though he himself could not stop from appreciating it. Sure, the car was nice, and there had even been a brief thought that flashed in his mind about getting his hands on the steering wheel, but that did not change his opinion of you. How did you ever get the money for it? You had to be in league with the mafia.

“Yup. This is my baby Roxanne. Ain’t she a beauty?” You straightened your arms down at your side, sliding your leg out from under the slit of your dress before crossing your ankle over the other. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched Steven admire your corvette like a small boy who saw a fast car for the first time, watching the way his eyes took in every detail.

“She’s fantastic.” Steven straightened up with a grin, taking one last look at your car before turning towards you. There was a certain pause in his motion, a skip in the beating of his heart as he took you in as if he was seeing you for the first time. God you looked amazing. The poor man nearly fell over his own feet as he stared at you, his mouth agape and not a single thought formulated within his head as he uttered out the first thing that came to mind. “Wow.”

Even Marc, the oh so serious mercenary that had been wary of you ever since you first stepped into the museum, was silent now. As much as he refused to admit it to himself, you looked stunning, like one of those femme fatales of the noir era. Both men were trapped within their own form of awestruck as they gaped at you, their dark eyes running up the length of your exposed leg from under the slit of your dress, to your bare arm and the curls of your hair and how your diamond earrings sparkled against your neck, before lingering on that enticing shade of red lipstick. There was no way that Steven was able to pull you. No way.

They could not fathom just what it was that made them so attracted to your being despite not having the slightest knowledge as to who you were. It was as if you had bewitched the both of them since the very beginning. Perhaps it was the dress itself, the way that deep shade of red looked against your skin and how the soft velvet fabric draped perfectly on all the right areas, drawing wandering eyes where you wanted them most. There was just something about you that brought out the primal instinct deep within them, and oh how it tore them apart from the inside.

“You….” Steven gulped against the lump in his throat as his knuckles turned white from twisting the strap of his bag, “the dress looks amazing….I mean…YOU look amazing.”

“Steven for the love of-“

“Thanks. It’s Prada.”

“Prada?”

“Well I only wear the best, sugar.” You quirked a brow in reply before stopping, a surveying look in your eyes as you fixed your gaze upon Steven. Did you hear that right? How peculiar.

“Is…..is something the matter?”

“No.” You lied with a gentle shake of your head, pressing your tongue against your back teeth in deep thought. “No, not at all.”

“Steven…..Steven listen to me-“

“I uh…” Steven suddenly remembered as he reached into his bag to pull something out. “I almost forgot. This is for you.”

“For me?” You blinked, staring at the single red rose held in his hand.

“I know it’s not much,” Steven blushed, “I meant to get y’know…more of em during my lunch but….this was all they had left.”

“You got me a rose?” You took the flower from his hand, staring down at the bright red petals. You almost did not know what to say or do with it as you swiveled the stem around between your thumb and your index finger. It had been so long since you were given a flower, the last one being from your past lover. It almost felt awkward in your hands, the beauty of its red shade and the meaning behind it a stark contrast to the motive that drove tonight.

“You…..you don’t like it?” The slightest frown appeared on Steven’s face as he tried to get a glimpse of your reaction, any reaction, but your expression remained the same.

“No, I do like it.” You gave him a smile. “I just…..didn’t expect to be given a rose.”

“Oh…are roses not your thing?”

“See what I mean Steven? Now turn around and walk the other way.”

“No!” You remarked after hearing what was just said before composing yourself, remembering to not give out too much. “Roses are nice, it’s just that…oh never mind.” You placed the rose down on your dashboard, it’s scarlet red petals complimenting the interior of your car. “Thank you Steven, I appreciate it, really.”

Damn you Steven, you thought with a clenched jaw. Gods was he making this harder than it should be. First that damn face and that damn politeness of his and now the cursed rose. Was he doing this on purpose, making you soft? Had he somehow caught on to what you were doing and this was his way of breaking through that iron wall of yours to gain sympathy on his part? He’s a mortal, you reminded yourself, he’s nothing more than a mortal, and you’re here on a mission.

“Before I forget,” you cleared your throat, regaining your composure as you went around to the back of your car to pop open the trunk, “here is your suit.”

“My suit?”

“Well I did say I was getting you a suit didn’t I?” You handed Steven a 1930s style charcoal-grey 3 piece suit with a maroon tie.

“Oh um…….” Steven did not know what to say as he stared down at the suit you had just given him, the plastic cover crinkling in his arms. The suit was well tailored from the looks of it, expensive even, telling from the quality of the tweed fabric. It was nice, too nice, and the longer he looked at it, the more he found himself not fit to wear it, thinking he would only end up looking like a complete plonker. And as he glanced over the suit jacket, his eyes running along the stitching, he caught the brand name printed on the tag. “But this is Prada.”

“Yeah.”

“Well….isn’t it like….expensive yeh?”

“I mean, its about $4,000.”

“Four thousand?!” Marc exclaimed with widened eyes. Why would you just throw four thousand dollars on a simpleton like Steve? There had to be an ulterior motive.

“Sorry….four….did you say four thousand?”

“Steven listen,” you gave a smile as you brushed off the dust on his jacket before straightening his collar, “it’s no biggie, like I said, my treat. Now, we should get a move on before the place closes.” You walked over to your car before getting in the driver’s seat.

Steven was stunned as he stood there on the sidewalk, eyes distant and cheeks red from the way you stood so close to him just now, remembering the way your knuckles brushed against the skin of his neck when you were adjusting his collar. And that perfume, god that perfume.

“You gettin in or nah?” You started up your car, the rumbling of your engine startling Steven back to reality.

“Steven don’t. Don’t you dare-“

“Leave me alone Marc.” Steven muttered under his breath before going around the back of your car to get in the passenger seat.

“So, anything you wanna hear on the radio? Lana Del Rey? Arctic Monkeys? Fleetwood Mac? Amy Whinehouse? Depeche Mode? Nine Inch Nails? Classic rock?”

“Lana Del Rey? She’s bad news Steven.”

“Oh um-not sure really.” Steven gave you a shy smile. “I suppose your choice is fine.”

“Very well.” You kept the radio on, turning up the volume as one of your favorite songs by Donovan played through your speakers.

You've got to pick up every stitch

You've got to pick up every stitch

You've got to pick up every stitch

Mm, must be the season of the witch

Must be the season of the witch, yeah

Must be the season of the witch

Something twitched at the back of Steven’s mind, something other than the nagging of Marc’s voice. Perhaps it was his instincts or a gut feeling, or maybe even the lyrics of the song, as ridiculous as it sounded. But something seemed to be forewarning him about tonight, about you. And as he turned to face you, watching you reach out to adjust your rear view mirror, his eyes caught a tattoo that sat on the skin of your arm near your shoulder, a dainty symbol of the triple moon. His thoughts drifted back, to the flash of the ring that was nestled on your finger when he first met you at the museum, the silver triple moon with the moonstone at the center, the very same ring that still sat on that exact same finger even now.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You turned to face the man whose expression remained fixed on you, his eyes ever so slightly widened in size as if he were second guessing everything and doubting your entire existence. “Hey, Steven, everything okay?” You softened your voice before placing a careful, methodical hand on his shoulder only to feel him jump slightly underneath your touch. You moved back in your seat, surprised to see such a reaction from him, the same man who was fawning over you not even a second ago. The hells had gotten into him?

“Steven get out of there. Now!”

“You know what.” Steven let out a nervous laugh as he set down the suit you had given him before attempting to get out of his seat, a hint of panic evident in his brown eyes. “I-uh…….I think I uh left the keys to my flat back at the museum.”

“Wait what?” You scrunched your nose as the man fumbled out an apology. With your hand resting on the back of the passenger headrest, you shifted in your seat to follow his form as he avoided your gaze before quickening his pace back to the museum building. “Steven!” You called out to him, confusion written on your face as you watched him disappear through the front doors. What was all that? You turned back to the front, your eyes darting in thought while your knuckles turned white from gripping your steering wheel. Shit. With a string of curse words spilling from between your clenched teeth, you hit your palm against the steering wheel before unbuckling your seatbelt. Gods damn it. Why did this have to happen right when everything was going according to plan. It was absolutely crucial that you put an end to this, right here right now, or else you would never hear the end of it.

Popping open your glove compartment, the two distinct items once again stared back at you, the two items that you knew you would have to choose from since the beginning. And as your eyes darted between the two, one outweighing the other, your head shot up at a monstrous howl that echoed through the emptiness of the night, a howl that was unlike anything you had ever heard.

“What the-“ You breathed out, turning towards the museum from whence that unnatural sound came. And as you kept a sharp ear, your body upright and your eyes narrowed as you tried to sniff it out, there it was again, that same exact howl. Grabbing the only thing that came to mind, the only thing that would prove itself useful at a situation like this, you sprinted out of your car with your silver dagger held tightly in your hand. This was no Lycanthrope.

Tag List: @lou-la-lou @red-plaidedandcladed @kitkat34857 @anehempel @ahookedheroespureheart @jakelcckley @xzombiealicex @thehornytitties @trinkets01 @cheyennejewell @iloveyou3000morgan @lilith-blackrose @winwin70 @gender-stealer @yaimlight @sexyexoskeleton @brookiebarnes @that-0ne-simp @ennovi-9 @stepasidefilth @darklyndivinely @graciexmarvel @wintersire @that-libra-who-simps @lokissugarmommy

[malleux]

spell [2]. | corpse husband

part one ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

-> Warnings: Hate Comments, Self Doubt, Anxiety, Cursing

-> A/N: thank you for 1k notes on part one! i’m so glad everyone likes my work. it’s really nice getting this much love after taking a hiatus on my fire emblem writing blog. i hope y’all enjoy it and stay on the lookout for part three!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you joined Sean’s Among Us stream.

While that was your first public appearance, you had joined three others after that and already you were blowing up on almost every social media platform you had. The attention was kind of nice, you had to admit, but sometimes the anxiety of becoming a public figure weighed heavily on your shoulders.

During that time, you turned to your friends who were used to such scrutiny: Sean, Felix, and now Corpse, who you’ve been talking to every day for those two weeks.

It was another one of those nights where, at 1am, you were on Facetime with said man. His screen was dark, as usual. He hadn’t shown his face yet and you respected that. You didn’t need to see him to talk to him, or be his friend, or develop a slight crush on him. All of which you did.

The call was relatively silent on your end. Corpse was on Facetime with you, yes, but he was also on a call in Discord, once again playing Among Us.

You often wondered if playing that game was all your new friends did anymore.

You stayed quiet, letting Corpse play the game and avoiding his fans finding out about your call. You had college work to finish anyways, so the silence was rather helpful.

“We should ask Y/N if she wants to play. I wanna meet her.” Sykkuno’s voice rang out from the Discord call. He was right- you’d never met him. He and Corpse seemed extremely close, though, so you’d love to talk to him. A friend of your crush friend was a friend of yours.

“She’s busy tonight.” Corpse responded.

“Yeah, she’s got an exam coming up- wait, how do you know?” Sean joined in, questioning Corpse.

“Uh, I mean we’re on Facetime right now, I guess.” Your heart sped up- now his fans knew. “She’s studying. We’re just hanging out.”

“Didn’t you guys ‘hang out’ last night as well? It seems like you’re trying to take my best friend away from me.” Sean joked back.

“I mean, I definitely am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was that supposed to mean? Sean was obviously kidding, but the tone in Corpse’s voice wasn’t the one he used when he was joking as well.

Felix suddenly butted in. “Ooooh, I think Corpse-y has a little crush.”

“And if I do?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

꧁꧂

Three weeks, now, that you’ve been talking to Corpse daily.

One week since Corpse’s crush comment and one week that you’ve endured countless mentions and tags on Instagram and Twitter, constantly talking about #CorpseY/N.

You didn’t really mind the shipping, often losing yourself in daydreams about driving those two hours down from your apartment in Los Angeles down to San Diego and running into his arms. It didn’t help when he mentioned wanting you to come visit one day.

You just worried about how Corpse felt about them. He was still relatively new to blowing up on the internet as well, his fame suddenly skyrocketing in the past few months, so you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with them. You didn’t want to bring it up, either, fearing that the discussion would make things awkward between the two of you.

For now, you were rather content with just scrolling through the #CorpseY/N hashtag, looking at the pictures and nice things people had to say about you both.

“they’re so cute when they talk to each other, you can just tell Corpse meant it when he said he was trying to steal Y/N away.”

“#CorpseY/N is my new favorite thing. Everyone shut up this is all I’ll be talking about from now on.”

“God why can’t they just be together already? #CorpseY/N”

Everyone was so supportive and sweet, it almost made you feel like you already were Corpse’s girlfriend. Although your heart hurt when you were brought back to reality, you couldn’t help but love the comments that everyone left. They were amazing.

Until they weren’t.

There are always two sides of the same coin. Along from the supporters and their loving actions, there were also those who seethed at the idea of you and Corpse.

They scrutinized everything about you to the point that you made your Instagram account- already with 30k followers- private.

Haters talked about you. Your body, your personality, how you weren’t worthy to even talk to Corpse and the rest of the Youtubers, and so much more. You’ve spent many nights with your Facetime mic muted so that Corpse couldn’t hear the small sobs coming from you.

These thoughts were almost always on the back of your mind, but you were sometimes able to push them away.

Like now- as you focused on your exam. Well, tried to focus. There comes to be a time where one can only hear so many negative things about themselves before they can’t ignore it anymore.

But alas, you tried your hardest and finished your exam, before walking out of the room and pulling out your phone. Now, you had a break before your new classes started and you’ve never been more relieved. You pulled up a certain contact and clicked on the message icon, beginning to type.

you:

i’m finished! up next, a break.

corpse:

I hope you did well. How long is your break?

you:

two weeks!

corpse:

Come spend it in San Diego

You stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the offer. You really didn’t think that he’d invite you over, but you weren’t about to complain. Instead, you sent back an ‘I’ll pack tonight :)’ and rushed home to do just that.

Corpse called you as you packed, just like he calls every night. You were used to the routine now, often falling asleep around 3am as he stays on the phone, doing whatever he does with his ruined sleep schedule until you wake up and say good morning.

Tonight, however, you were too jittery to sleep. You stayed up all night with Corpse, talking about anything and everything, like usual.

What wasn’t usual, though, was how distracted he sounded. It made you nervous- was he having second thoughts about inviting you over? Was something wrong?

Your thoughts nearly overwhelmed you, forcing you to say something.

“Are you okay, Corpse?” You tried to hide the small shake in your voice.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Why?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

His side of the phone was silent for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what I’ve got to do before you get here tomorrow. Like, cleaning and stuff.”

“Pshh, that doesn’t matter to me.” You waved your hand, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of your room.

“It’s just that, my apartment isn’t… the best. It’s small and there’s only one bedroom and it’s kind of shitty. I just don’t want it to be even more shitty.”

“Corpse, I’m coming there to spend time with you, not your apartment. I don’t care what any of that shit looks like. I’m going to be looking at you and hanging out with you. Not your apartment.” You didn’t mean to go on a tangent of reassurance, but you truly meant all of your words. “Hell, I might not even see the apartment because I already know I won’t be able to look away from you.”

“I- God, give me a minute. That took me off guard.” He laughed. “But thank you. I may not even be able to clean because I’ll be distracted too.”

“By what?”

“You, standing in front of me, in person.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s a fucking dream come true.”

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions

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[hiphop-rap-and-basketball]

rookie year | chapter 5

• a lamelo ball fanfic by hiphop-rap-and-basketball •

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x fem!reader

Word count: 3,460+

A/N: Let’s just pretend that preseason just ended and it’s the actual season now. And let’s pretend like I know wtf I’m writing about when it comes to basketball. This chapter was a lil challenging 🤣 I told y’all I didn’t know shit 💀💀😅 , Ik in real life they play against certain teams from certain parts of the country but yeah💀 this my story and this is how it’s going LMAO enjoy loves I actually like this chapter but I really like every chapter I’ve written so far 😂 and like I said dates aren’t super significant I just wanted to add them to make a better understanding of a timeline, anyway carry on 😌

Wednesday, September 18th 2019

You were looking forward to this day ever since Melo gave you and Tristan the tickets last week. You made sure your schedule was all cleared up for the evening so you had enough time to get ready for the game.

You oddly felt some pressure about how you looked. I mean, yeah Melo knows who you are but that does not mean all eyes are on you. It was a basketball game but nonetheless you still wanted to feel good about what you had on and how you did your make up.

You spent the early morning editing photos. You had finally got Melo’s photos edited and finished so you sent them all to him. You awaited his response. While doing so, you got ready for the shoot you had today.

Melo 🛸🕺🏾💯: oh my god these look amazing camera girl.

You feel a grin grow on your lips.

You: I’m so happy you love them!😊

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: I really do. Can I tag you if I post them?

You were unsure how you felt about him openly giving you credit. It kind of scared you knowing if he tagged you it might bring an influx of followers you may not be ready for.

You: it’s okay, you don’t have to. you’ve shown enough appreciation and I’m really grateful for it. Thank you Melo.

You decide to double text.

You: I’m so excited for tonight, I’ve been looking forward to it. Feels good to have a reason to get out of the house and do something fun for me for once. Well, for us.

You await his response. Feeling a tad bit like you shared too much information, you avoid looking at your phone for a while. It was the honest truth. It was hard to get Tristan out of the house most days when he was too tired from work.

You prepared lunch before you head out or your shoot. The shoot you had planned today was a couple shoot scheduled for two hours. It gave you just enough time to get back, shower and change before the game and edit some of their picture before Tristan came to pick you up.

During this shoot, you enjoyed your time with this couple as they were kind enough to share their story on how they got together. The two of them being gender fluid and using they/them pronouns, they shared with you how they went through so many struggles before coming to terms with their identity. By the end of your shoot, their story had you in tears. Their love was so very real and it obviously showed strongly in the photos.

“Well thank you two so much for your time. Thank you for sharing with me your love story,” nodded at them both as you spoke.

“Why of course,” one of them stated. “Are you in a relationship?” They asked.

The question caught you off guard and you looked to the ground.

“Yes, yes I am. It’s been a bit rocky lately but I hope we’re working through it,” you shrugged.

“Well they better be treating you like the Queen you are. You deserve to be recognized for your beauty and kindness,” they smiled.

“Oh stop I’ve cried enough are you kidding? Thank you so much,” you exclaimed and they both erupt in laughter.

They go on their way and you do to. You had an exciting evening to look forward to.

You finally checked your phone.

Melo 🕺🏾🛸💯: Are you Fr? I’m glad you’re excited. I’ll have to play even harder now to make it worth your while 🤣 camera girl how you out here taking pictures of everyone but not going nowhere? Nah nah nah you got places to see!!!

Tristan 😊❤️: Pick you up at 6pm? The game starts at 7pm

You looked at the clock, it was 4pm. You had just enough time to hurry tf up! Move girl!

You rushed home and got straight into the shower, scrubbing your body with a sugar scrub, shaving and then using body wash. Washing your hair and rushing to make sure your entire body was clean. You huffed when you got out, wishing you had at least shaved in the morning to save you the effort right now. You checked the clock and luckily you were doing good on time.

After your shower you used the same scent for your lotion and perfume. Putting the outfit on Melo said was the best. You kept your make up look pretty smooth and natural the way you liked it. It had been a while since you had worn make up since you stopped worrying about it on shoots because your foundation would always rub off onto your camera screen when you were shooting.

Finally feeling content with your look, you looked at the time.

5:58pm

Just in time, thank heavens. Gathering your purse together. You looked at your camera bag for a moment. It felt funny to leave the house without it. Nonetheless, you were so excited to be going out and doing something fun.

Tristan😊❤️: Here

You locked up your apartment and headed down the elevator. Alone on the trip down, you thought about how you had been alone in the elevator with Melo a couple times at this point. You thought about how he was in a locker room in a huge arena surrounded by so many people about to play an NBA game.

You made your way out of the elevator and found your boyfriend pulled up in his car, you opened the door and sat in the front seat, settling in and clicking on your seatbelt.

“Hey,” you greet him by giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

“Woah hello, you smell really nice,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you grin. “You excited?”

“Hell yeah, let’s get it.”

The drive there was smooth. Getting closer to fall in North Carolina meant dusk would be approaching sooner. Approaching the huge arena made it feel even more unreal. After struggling to get in the busy parking garage, you both got out of the car ready to make your way in the stadium. You looked Tristan up and down for a moment, admiring his outfit.

“You look good,” you say quietly.

He smiles, “thanks, you like the new shoes? Nothing crazy,” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“And how many does that make now in the collection? 50?” You reply.

“Actually, 55,” he retorts proudly and you snort.

“Oh my gosh, let’s go you hooligan,” you laugh and the two of you are off and into getting your tickets checked and your pat down going into the arena. Your heart rate increased as the excitement was starting to kick in. You felt it was kinda cool knowing Melo gave you the tickets and no one had an idea about it

“You want a snack?” Tristan asked.

“Hell yeah,” you reply. “I want some nachos.”

“Ol hungry ass,” he smacked his lips.

“Shut upppp,” you drag. “You got them for me? I’m about to go find our seats.”

“Noooo, wait for me,” he says.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk.

You got your nachos and happily munched on some while you made your way down to your seats. You were both in awe at the atmosphere. The energy in the stadium was insane and the game was just about to start.

You looked around, taking in how many people were around you. It was definitely over a thousand. You took your phone out and snapped a couple of pictures. You happily ate your snack and sipped on your drink.

Court side seats were really only a couple rows ahead of you. You were very close.

The silence between Tristan and you was drowned out by the people around you chatting with one another. The crowd immediately was silenced when the lights shut off. Then suddenly the stadium was 10 times louder.

The players were introduced as they came running out. You watched as each one of them walked onto the court as you listened out for their names being listed.

When Melo’s name was announced, you yelled an inaudible cheer while lifting the drink you had in your hand up in the air before taking a sip.

They did their warm-up drills and soon began. The lights were back on and you could see clearly now. You watched intensely, as this was all so new to you.

“This is way too good,” Tristan exclaimed. “I love this.”

You looked at him and smiled then looked back on the court.

You could not help but keep your eyes on Melo the whole time. Besides the fact that he was really the only player you knew, he was also really good. You could immediately see how focused he was. It made getting into the game more interesting for you.

“Damn, I gotta use the bathroom,” Tristan states and you laugh.

“Already? You should’ve went before the game started, you’ll miss it.” you tease.

“I know I know, I’ll be right back,” he stated and gets up quickly, swiftly making his way past the other people’s knees in the row.

You sat by yourself now, still watching the game intensely. The refs called a foul, and the game stopped for a moment, Melo stood close to you and you felt your heart rate increase, wondering if he would see you or if he even knew where you guys were sitting.

You watch as his eyes go from the refs to finding you, a smile grew on his face as he noticed you then it quickly faded when he cocked a brow and nodded his head at you sitting alone.

“Bathroom,” you mouth the words and he nods his head and mouth the words “oh,” before quickly turning his attention back to the game.

It only took seconds after for about 3 people in front of you to turn their head to look back at Melo acknowledging you. You had to think fast, so you quickly turned your head to look back as well, acting as if you too were wondering who he was talking to in the crowd of hundreds behind you.

You turn your head back around and see everyone focused on the game again. You laugh to yourself, taking a bite from your nachos.

With your legs crossed now and eyes on the game, you keep your focus strong as the points start racking up.

You notice Melo acknowledge a player on the opposite team. He’s tall as well with similar features as Melo. You wonder if that is his brother. The two of them both appear on the big screen.

“We have a sibling rivalry here today, Lonzo and Melo Ball going head to head tonight. Let’s see who takes in the win.”

Well, that answers that.

Your removed from your thoughts when your boyfriend comes back, drink and hotdog in his hand. You watch as he settles in.

“Got hungry, what’d I miss?”

“Couple home runs were made, that’s about it,” you joked, horrible at that.

“You’re hilarious,” he rolls his eyes.

Your attention went back to the game. As it went on and on, you watched as Melo scored in a variety of different ways. Free throws, 3 pointers, and.. yeah that was about all you knew he was doing.

“Okay I need to learn more,” you nudge Tristan. So what about if they score inside or outside of the 3 point line?”

“There’s 2 pointer, three pointers and the free throw line, girl I thought you did you research?” He laughs and you feel the heat run to your cheeks.

“Look… I was busy,” you trail off thinking about how the only research you did was looking and Melo’s Instagram again. Then maybe it was a little bit of research.. just a lil bit.

He shakes his head with a smile and remains silent.

Watching Melo play quickly became your favorite thing. You could not help but notice the way his curls bounced when he ran, the way his arms flexed when he went for a shot, him smiling at his other teammates, the beads of sweat that began forming on his forehead.

“Hey, you alright?” Tristan asked, snapping you out of your daydreams.

“Yeah, why?” You yell back as the crowd roared.

“You look out of it,” he half grins with a look of concern on his face.

“Hell nah I’m having a great time, I can’t believe we’re here.”

“Me neither..” he trails off, looking up and around above him.

Nearing halftime, the arena started clearing up as everyone headed for the exits and you decided to take a bathroom break. The two girls in front of you in-line both wore Jerseys that had ‘Ball’ as the last name on the back. Both with the number 2, one being for Melo’s jersey and the other for Lonzo’s.

“…He looks extra fine today,” the girl in Lonzo’s jersey began before heading into the stall.

“Melo’s cuter!” The other one declared, crossing her arms over her chest. Clearly not caring who heard her, some of the other ladies washing their hands chuckled, and you felt yourself joining them with a giggle.

“I agree,” a girl whispered, walking passed her with a smirk on her face.

You brought your finger tips to your mouth, holding back the biggest grin and holding back from saying,

Me too.

•••

Nearing the end of the game, Tristan grew restless. Going on his phone looking at other scores from the other NBA games that were live at this moment.

“How you looking at other scores when there’s game right in front of you?” You asked.

“Just how it goes,” he shrugs.

“I guess,” you shrugged while flicking your hair over your shoulder.

The game was close but the Hornets took the win with a score of 112-110. You wished you could speak with Melo after the game and tell him how you really enjoyed your time and watching him play. You were feeling so alive afterwards. But of course he was busy doing NBA player things so you decided you would wait to text him later.

It was 11pm by the time you were able to get out of the stadium parking garage, you both settled on fast food since everything was closing by now.

“What do you want to eat?” Tristan asked.

“I guess McDonald’s is is our only option now,” you laugh.

He shrugs, “I guess that works.”

“Did you have fun?” He asked.

“Yeah, did you?” You say.

“Yeah, I’d love to another game soon,” he says.

“Me too,” you agreed.

He remained silent for the rest of the ride afterwards. While the two of you ate in his car he scrolled through his phone until it was time to take you back home.

When he dropped you off, he gave you a quick peck on the lips goodbye without saying much. You sensed his energy was off but you had no desire to question it. When he got into his quiet mood you just figured it was him needed alone time after a long day so you just respected it.

You made it up to your apartment, walking into the darkness and plopping yourself on your couch, you pulled out your phone.

You: Great game tonight. Heard some girls in the bathroom talking about you and your brother . One of them said Lonzo was cuter. I agreed with her 🤷‍♀️

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯:

🤣🤣🤣🤣

And thank you 🕺🏾🛸💕

But I know you lying 🤣🤣🤣

You: Not at all. I even told her.

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: Nah nah nah 🤣🤣🤣

I’m the best looking Ball brother everybody know that

You: yeah?? Who’s everybody?

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: I might have to beat your ass camera girl🤣🤣

You: 🤣🤣 you wouldn’t

You got ready for bed even though you were still beaming with energy from the game.

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: You looked beautiful tonight.

You: Stoppp, you saw me?? When?? Thank you 😊

Melo 🛸🕺🏾💯: Maybe I did, you’re welcome 😊 thank you again for coming to the game. Let’s do another photoshoot soon.

Your heart rate increased with excitement, grateful as you were wondering if the two of you would work together again.

You: Just say the word! I’m more than happy to work around you. You know that.

You felt just an ounce of guilt rereading the conversation and realizing how flirty it came off. You gave your phone a rest for an hour or so while you tidied up before laying down for bed for the night.

Melo 🛸🕺🏾💯: did y’all do anything after the game?

You: nothing crazy just went to get McDonald’s lmao.

Melo 🛸🕺🏾💯: stop playing

You: I wish I was lmao

Melo 🛸🕺🏾💯: I would have taken you outtttt

I’m sorry im a lil drink rn

***drunk

If I was Tristan

You giggled at his text.

You: Drunk??!! Oooo LaMelo Ball I’m telling 😧

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: Nooo please don’t

I’ll cash app you $100

Or Apple Pay

Please don’t tell my mama

You: Melo I’m kidding 🤣🤣

But I’ll take that $100

Jpjp💀💀

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯:

Apple Pay $100

You:

Apple Pay $100

Hell no Melo I was totally kidding

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: Apple Pay $1000 Take itttt Oh shit I added and extra zero in there, oh well 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤪🤪🤣

You: Apple Pay $1000 Melo I’m deadass don’t 😂

Melo🛸🕺🏾💯: Apple Pay $1000 Don’t play with me I’ll send one million

You dial his number, slightly concerned with his antics.

“Heyyyy camera girl,” you hear him slur.

“Melo,” you blurted.

He does not respond but you hear music and chatter in the background and hear him greeting someone.

“Melo!” You say a little louder this time.

“Oh shit my bad, what’s up girl,” he says and his voice so relaxed you could not help but giggle.

“You don’t have to send me money. Seriously, I’m sorry for even joking about it,” you reply quickly.

His tone eased and sounding more concerned now.

“Oh Y/N why would you think you have to apologize for that? Seriously that’s my fault I was doing to much. I’m sorrry I’m kinda drinking right now-“

There goes that feeling when he said your name again.

“Well what’s drunk Melo up too?” You giggled.

“Hanging out with a couple of my dudes and some guys from the team…but hey I’m flying out of state tomorrow.. when you tryna do another shoot?”

We love a persistent man, you thought.

“Well, when do you get back?” You asked him while crossing your arms.

“Not until this upcoming Monday…” he trailed off.

“Well, you let me know what works best for you,” you say.

He pauses for a moment.

“You so cute,” he snickers.

“Melo!” You yell with a laugh and quickly bring your hand to your mouth. You felt the blood quickly rush to your face.

“You looked soooo good tonight, tell yo man Tris-“

Your eyes widened in pure fear.

“MELO!! Who you talking too-“ you heard a guy voice say right into your ear. Melo’s voice grew further before he could finish his statement. You assumed the guy the phone now.

“Oh hell-“ you start.

“Hello?” You heard the guys voice greet you calmly now.

“Umm, hi,” you reply shyly.

“Hey, don’t listen to him he’s had enough to drink. What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked.

“Depends who’s asking..?” You trail off.

“It’s Miles, look I’m sure you’re a sweet girl sorry for the troubles this young man is causing-“

“Give me my mufuckin’ phone-“ you hear Melo say and you can’t help but let out a another laugh. Oh how fun it seems it would to be hanging out with them right now.

“Hey camera girl you don’t have to tell him shit – I’m so sorry lemme call you back when I’m not faded- okay?”

“Camera girl?” You hear Miles voice question in the background.

“Don’t worry bout it,” Melo snaps at Miles.

“Okay,” you say while shaking your head. “Bye Melo,”

No way this shit was happening. Your phone vibrated immediately after the call ended.

Tristan 😊❤️ Good night darling 😊

“Nah I need a minute to take this shit in hold up,” you say out loud to yourself before you could even think about typing up a response to Tristan.

You walked out onto your patio and breathed in the fresh fall air. Admiring the view before laughing at yourself.

Life is a funny thing. Not even a month into living in your new apartment and your life was bringing you things you had never imagined would be happening to you.

______

Read Chapter 6 Here

[red-balloon12]

Okay so here are my thoughts about the new Sanders Sides episode-

1. Freaking Logan with his big wine glasses. They were growing with time....this guy needs therapy-

2. I know a lot of people are saying that at this point Janus and Remus are accepted as sides, but I really don’t think they are. Not fully anyway. C!Thomas is kinda warming up to Janus but he still has that uhhhh.....uneasiness to him. It’s even more so with Remus. And they kinda got separated from some of the questions...so yeah...I don’t think they’re fully welcomed in regards to C!Thomas. And certainly not to the “light” sides. (Especially Roman and Virgil)

3: Speaking of Roman and Janus, Thomas has a good way of both building and diminishing ships. Like that once scene when Janus was saying that he was the “Voltaire to his Rousseau”...do you know how many people can take that and make content out of it if they know the story? (But of course Roman still does hate Janus and so.....Enemies To Lovers 40k Words, anyone?)

4. Remus just being Remus. Also I both love and hate how we had to get his symbol in a special. It probably wouldn’t have worked any other way. I also ALSO like how Remus knows more than he leads on about what’s gonna happen in the season finale....and that Janus (and himself) spraying soap keeps him from spilling. That’s funny-

5. Janus and Remus playing Patton’s DDR when they aren’t on screen. Thanks Mr. Sanders. Now whenever those two ain’t on screen, I’ll just be thinking of that. Dang it.

6. Janus getting upset about not having his own song (or at least not getting to sing at all.) And also getting mad that he wasn’t included in “Lies” absolutely sent me and I felt that on a personal level.

7. Honestly there’s not much I wanna say about Virgil or Patton themselves. I am hoping Patton does meet a nice pupper to love and I guess I hope Vigil’s relationship with the “dark” sides gets better cuuuus.....I need to know what the heck happens between them. Oh, and Patton calling Janus “Jan” revived something that was long since hidden within me........and that thing is being mild mociet shipper-

8. Logan being the “mom” of the family. I’m gonna have to prepare myself for all of the untagged Logicality posts that will be coming soon....oh and Logan says no to gender roles.

9. Roman being upset about the wedding.....or should I say the callback? Oh and we finally know where the whole “Bumba Gump Shrimp” thing came from! It came from our boi Remus-

10. I also need to prepare myself for all of the Demus and untagged Prinxiety content that will come out......tag your stuff, guys.

11. Janus is confirmed wine aunt. And Janus getting better at impersonating the sides. Oh the possibilities-

And finally 12. Only Sanders Sides can drive people insane about an orange.

My final conclusion: I talk about Janus a l o t, and I’m very exited for the season 2(?) finale. LET’S SEE HOW BAD THINGS GET!

Reflection: But in all seriousness, I’m glad this show got to where it is today. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared that this show would go under because of larger gaps in content and tHe VirUs. And I realized that I, along with SEVERAL others, have been watching these figments of imagination for 5 years. I feel old. I’ve learned and grown so much with this show and it pleases me that it isn’t over yet. I want to thank my fellow fanders that gave the fandom (and the crew) wonderful art and stories and theories and fan edits and etc. And I give big thanks to the folks that joined Thomas’s patron. And finally I give thanks to the crew and Mr. Sanders for giving us this great show. Happy 5th anniversary y’all!

[tintinwrites]

how could we be wrong? | Priest!Max Phillips x Reader

A/N: Thank you for doing business with the religious trauma hotline, my name’s Caitlin. I’m just calling to confirm your order of a priest kink.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Fem!Reader. Max is a priest. Unprotected P in V sex, in a church, over a pew, while another priest and a parishioner are in the confessional booth. Oral (F receiving). Religious things. Naughty words. A bit of corruption kink. There are so many sins in this that I can’t list them all bc idk what’s bad and what’s not now.

Word count: 4,105, apparently!!

Summary: You go to church to confess your sins, but end up only adding on some more things you’ll need to confess.

GIF credit: thewaythisis

Tags: Love y’all but I cannot CANNOT force my taglist to have a priest kink thrust upon them like this.

                                               --------------------

The oak door was heavy as you pulled on the brass handle, but the opening of it led you into a warm, quiet sanctuary.

You supposed there was a metaphor in there; you were out in the cold with a heavy weight, but just beyond that weight was warmth and salvation and peace.

Every pew was empty, bibles and hymnals tucked neatly in the compartments on the back as they waited for mass or for passersby who needed to pray. There were candles lit at the front of the sanctuary despite the lights on overhead, and you inwardly berated yourself for not knowing why they were lit.

You intended to go to the confessional booth to your right, but you paused halfway to it when you saw that there was another person in the sanctuary. They were facing away from you, dressed in all black, but they didn’t have snowy white hair like the priest who you’d seen the times you visited before.

Glancing at the confessional, you decided instead to approach the man.

Perhaps you just hadn’t seen him before and if he was the only priest in the building, going into an empty confessional would be a little silly.

“Father?” you asked cautiously, and the man immediately whipped around to show a face much younger than you were used to, his gaze quickly flickering over you.

“—yes, my...child?” The name was said hesitantly with a slight grimace and you wondered if you interrupted him.

“I’m sorry. I can come back later.” You turned to go, but a hand wrapped around your arm to pull you back.

“No, stay, I was just cleaning.” He held up the dust buster in his free hand, releasing you so he could put it on the altar table. “What do you need? I’m yours.”

He said that simple statement so smoothly as he turned to face you that it made your heart pick up speed just a bit, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, I...came to confess, but I’m not exactly anonymous anymore…”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, slugger!” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders before you could protest, leading you to a pew and sitting down with you, his legs open wide as he relaxed into the wooden seat. “So, come on, what’s the secret, huh? What’d you come to confess?”

“I...I don’t know.” You knew what you came to confess, but you were taken aback by his behavior and how quickly he moved, and mostly just embarrassed to admit such things to a handsome man like him.

“Are you one of those freaks who just came to confess just in case?”

“What? That’s...no.” You were definitely surprised by a man of God talking about the parishioners who came to confess like that. “I just don’t know if I should confess these things outside of the confessional.”

He made a face and waved his hand as if to say it was no big deal. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There was something charming about how carefree and flippant the man was, but you still hesitated for a second. “I don’t even know who you are, Father.”

“Max Phillips. I just started training here.”

Well, that explained his lack of the professionalism and seriousness you were used to. You opened your mouth to confess since he was a priest or would soon be one, but you shook your head and looked down shyly. “I don’t know…”

A finger under your chin gently nudged your head up until you were looking into Max’s eyes, your heart picking up speed again. “You’re safe with me. Go ahead.”

There was just something about him that made you feel all warm inside, and you nodded for so long it was almost stupid before you remembered that you were supposed to be confessing.

“I’ve been having a lot of impure thoughts lately. It just seems like everything is driving me crazy and then I…” You faltered as the real thing you wanted to confess to danced on the tip of your tongue.

Max had been looking at the way your dress hugged your tits as he listened, raising his eyes to your face when you stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re very young to be a priest.” You started to turn away because talking about something like this to a man who looked like that was not stopping your thoughts from heading in the direction they tended to lately. “And you’re different. Shouldn’t we be in the confessional?”

“Hey, listen, how about we...make a deal? You confess, and I can tell you how I ended up here.” He just really wanted to know what had you so ashamed like this, what could possibly make you squirm like you were right then.

You considered it for a second before nodding, taking a deep breath. “I’ve been masturbating. I start thinking, and then I start feeling these sensations, and before I know it, I’m touching myself.”

He nodded along in understanding like the thought of you touching yourself didn’t make his pants a little tighter. “I see.”

“I know it’s wrong.” You dropped your head into your hands, but were only able to wallow for a few seconds. The priest grabbed onto your hands and grasped them in his supportively, making you look up at him.

“You wanna hear why I became a priest?” He smiled at your slight nod. “I was always a little bit of a...troublemaker. But I guess the last time was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for my parents…”

“What did you do?” you asked with concern; the way he sighed made it seem like he did something terrible, like hurt someone or do some kind of dangerous drug.

“See, there was this girl I liked. I invited her over to my house.” He knew exactly what he was doing with this story, noting every little hint of your untapped desire in the way you leaned closer and your blinking slowed. “When my parents walked in to find me with my head under her skirt, slowly thrusting my tongue in and out of her, I guess it was too much.”

His words dripped with sensuality and you would have fallen right off the pew were it not for your grip tightening on his hands. He was so beautiful. You pressed your thighs together and just stared at him, your lips parting slightly like you wanted to say something or maybe even kiss him.

But then he leaned back and shrugged, going right back to his previous nonchalance. “So they sent me to seminary a few years ago and I was just accepted by this church.”

“Oh.” You nodded, trying to pretend that his story hadn’t affected you that much. It seemed like he was just telling a story and your horny brain had just read too much into it.

“You know sexuality isn’t bad, right? Rubbing one out is a biological response to release a little...tension.” He released your hands to break contact with you, noticing the way you fell forward just a little as he leaned against the back of the pew.

“The bible says—”

“The bible’s been translated a billion times and taken out of context a billion more. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with releasing a little tension.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips as he decided to push you a bit. “There’s nothing wrong with you being turned on by the idea of me putting my head under your dress right now.”

You were nodding along as you considered his words, but then your eyes nearly doubled in size at his comment. “I—I don’t—”

“Now lying is a sin.” He reached out to tap you on the nose which made you blink rapidly in confusion. “Look at how tense you are. You’ve been denying yourself, haven’t you?”

“Well...I didn’t think it was right…” You were uncomfortable; not because he was upsetting you, but because you had been denying yourself and you were so turned on by his words that you wanted to do the very thing you came to confess.

“Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself?” He decided to be blunt. You seemed to enjoy it when he was.

“What? Me? Here?” Your reaction was almost comical, but his words still sent a jolt directly to your clit.

“Touch yourself. Yes, you. Right here.” He leaned forward to gently grasp your hand again, running his thumb along the back of it. “I’m a man of God. You’re safe with me if you need to release a little tension. I won’t tell a soul.”

“I…” You wet your lips, pressing your thighs even tighter together.

He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly guided your hand to the hem of your dress, pausing to see if you would stop him or protest. When you didn’t, he helped you pull the fabric up your thighs, glancing down when he saw a glimpse of bright fabric. “Blue lace, huh? I like it.”

All you did was stare into his eyes, letting him maneuver your hand underneath the practically sheer fabric. He pulled his hand out and just laid it on top of yours through the lace.

“Tell me your name.” He waited for you to stutter it out before repeating it, wrapping his lips around it sensually in a way no one ever had before. “I could moan that. Fuck, I’d like to hear you moan my name like a prayer.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes fluttered shut and you began stroking over your clit, giving into the sensation that was begging you to touch yourself.

Max just kept his hand on top of yours, letting them move together, his eye flickering between your face and what you were doing between your legs. “Isn’t that better? What are you thinking about?”

“Your tongue.” You were too turned on to care, letting out a little moan when you opened your eyes and saw the way he was staring at you.

“And I didn’t even tell you the whole story!” He laughed, bringing his free hand down to playfully slap your thigh. “I bet you’d like to know what I did when my parents and their friends walked in, huh? Go ahead, ask me.”

“What did...what did you do?” You tried your best to focus on him, now letting him control the movements of your hand through your panties.

He shifted a bit so he could lean in closer to you, his eyes roaming from your face, down your neck, over your breasts, until they landed between your legs. “I fucked my tongue into her until she came all over herself in front of everyone.”

The whine you let out was exactly what he wanted and he chuckled when you tried to move your hand faster than he was allowing.

“Patience is a virtue. Do you want to feel my tongue?” He raised an eyebrow when you didn’t answer him at first, making you grind your fingers against your clit a little harder. “It’s okay to say yes.”

“Yes,” you gasped out and he smirked, pulling his hand away and taking hold of your wrist to make you stop touching yourself.

“Now, I know you learned patience. You’re such a stickler for rules, aren’t you?” He pulled your hand up to kiss your glistening fingers, letting his tongue poke out to kitten lick them every so often. “I want you to stand up for me. Take off your panties, go up and put them on the altar, then come back here. You’re gonna stand in front of me and take off your dress.”

Your chest was rising and falling slowly from your deep, steady breaths. You’d come to confess your sins, but it didn’t feel like a sin as you stood up and stepped out of your underwear.

You didn’t even realize how easily you were doing it until you’d approached the altar and set the bit of lace on it, turning around to make your way back to Max.

He was leaning back in the pew with his legs open wide, the bulge in his pants obvious when you came to practically stand between his knees.

You hesitated when your fingers came to the hem of your dress, realizing that you were going to be naked in front of this practical stranger in the middle of a church. It was both enticing and terrifying.

“Let me see. I’ve been staring at your tits since you walked in anyway.” He said it so casually it was somehow almost sexier than if he’d been flirtatious.

Hesitating for just a moment longer, you pulled your dress off before you could convince yourself not to, leaving yourself entirely bare. Max’s eyes darkened as he slowly looked over every visible inch of you.

You grew nervous when he didn’t say anything, shifting on your feet and biting your lip as you stared at the floor.

When he was still silent, you slowly looked up at him, fearing a look of disgust.

But you found him staring right at you with eyes full of lust and he slowly said, “I’d abandon the church for that.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say to something like that, just letting out a shaky breath as you felt yourself grow wetter.

“Sit down. Open your legs wide.” He stood up, waiting for you to take his place on the pew before he knelt between your legs. “Has anyone ever done this before?”

“No, Father. I only had sex once, when I was a teenager...and it wasn’t really good.” Your answer seemed to please him, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Call me Max,” he said simply, then leaned forward and started running his tongue along your folds.

Just feeling his tongue between your legs had you squirming and gasping, but he wasn’t paying attention to your clit yet. He’d dip his tongue right near it before skipping over it, pressing teasing little kisses against you.

Having never been eaten out before, you didn’t think to rush him or beg him; you were oversensitized from a lack of proper touch, so this was doing a lot for you.

He decided to be nice mostly for the purpose of rocking your world, and he started to flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue.

That had your hips lifting off the pew, a cry leaving your lips as he started tracing little circles over the sensitive area. “Oh, fuck, Max…”

He took hold of your thighs to pin you back down to the seat, pressing his tongue flat against you and dragging it slowly up over your clit. The movement had your jaw dropping open in pure ecstasy and the ensuing vibrations from his soft chuckle made you release a moan.

You’d never felt anything so amazing in your entire life even when you would give in and touch yourself, and you couldn’t believe how long you’d gone without feeling something this wonderful.

“Would you use your tongue inside me? Like the girl?” Your request earned you another slap to the thigh as Max pulled away, his lips shining.

“I gotta say, you know your manners!” He grinned, keeping his eyes on you as he leaned down and slowly began fucking into you with his tongue.

You were silent at first as the new sensation took over, before you let out a whine and started breathing a little shakily. “Oh, God!”

Max mumbled a reminder of what you could call him into your cunt, thrusting his tongue a little faster and nudging his nose against your clit.

He kept going at it until he felt your walls starting to flutter around his tongue and he pulled back, smirking at the almost hurt look on your face.

“You wanna see what good sex is like?” He cupped your face when you nodded, moving to kiss you passionately.

You kissed him back eagerly and stared at him dreamily as he pulled you to your feet, letting him turn you around. He guided you to bend over with your hands gripping the back of the pew, seeing that you were steady before he pulled back to admire your ass.

He ran a hand over the soft skin, undoing his pants with the other as he kept trailing down until he was stroking through your slit. “It hurt the first time, huh?”

“Yeah, and he...released his seed after a couple thrusts then left…” You admitted this with a bit of shame, pressing your fingers into the wood.

“Came. He came after a couple thrusts.” Your gentle way of putting it made him smirk, but he let out a moan when he pressed his tip to your wet folds. “This one’s not gonna hurt and you can bet your sweet ass that you’re gonna come first.”

“He came,” you repeated, eyes fluttering shut with a moan at the feeling of him starting to push into you; there was some pressure, but he was right about it not hurting like the other time.

“God, you’re tight…” He practically growled, going slow so you could adjust to the way he was stretching you open.

You folded your arms on the back of the pew and laid your head on them, breathing deeply as he pushed himself inside you as far as he could. He moved one hand to your right hip and the other stroked up your back.

“How’s that?” Your answer was a pitiful, little groan so he thrust his hips a little. “Come on. Use your words.”

“Good, but I feel like I want you to move…” It was so nice to feel full and you wanted friction to go with it.

“Then get back up.”

You forced yourself back up onto your hands and turned your head to look at him over your shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow, watching your eyes darken as he pulled out before quickly thrusting back into you. It was hard enough that you let out a yelp and were rocked forward a bit, having to tighten your grip on the pew so you didn’t face plant on it.

“Oh, God!” You cried, arching back into him.

“Okay, fine, you can call me that and Max.” He rolled his eyes playfully as he found a steady pace against you, loving the way you practically bounced with each thrust.

You were too gone to even acknowledge what he said, and he really didn’t mind since that meant he was turning you on. He slid a hand underneath you so he could rub at your clit, angling his thrusts to stroke over your G spot.

He was trying to keep it together, but you were sexy, and so wet, and so fucking into it that he couldn’t help the noises you were pulling out of him; every whine, every moan, was worth being able to fuck into your tight, wet pussy in the middle of the fucking church.

He could feel your walls fluttering around his cock already since you were so wound up in general and worked up from his mouth, and like hell he was gonna deny you this time.

The thought of you squeezing down on his cock encouraged him to move faster, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass echoing through the sanctuary.

“Max! I’m—I’m—” Your orgasm was too powerful for you to even warn him about, only able to let out a cry as you clenched tight around him.

“Holy shit.” He hissed at the way your cunt gripped him like a fucking vice, the way he felt you squirt all over yourself and his dick.

He could feel it dripping down your thighs and his, spurring him on further as he easily thrust into you.

The sound of your wet cunt filling the room was even better and he let himself get completely lost in you, grunting and whining at how good you felt.

“Oh, God. Oh, God!” Maybe he was doing that part a bit on purpose, but he had no choice but to let his hips lose their rhythm as he just focused on seeking out his orgasm. “Fuck. Tell me where to come, now.”

You didn’t answer at first as you were still coming down from your orgasm. He quickly started rubbing your sensitive clit again to grab your attention and you gasped, “Inside me, please.”

He wanted to fall to his knees and fucking worship you for that, leaning down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades before he stood up to drive into you desperately. It only took a few more thrusts before he was shoving himself into you as deeply as he could, letting out a loud, long groan as he spilled his load into you.

The two of you stayed like that for a second, both panting, both with your eyes shut tightly.

But Max still wanted to fall to his knees in worship.

He regrettably pulled out of you and moved to kneel down, holding onto your ass to keep you still as he leaned in, immediately lapping the mixture of his and your cum from your cunt.

You let out a whimper so pretty that he could’ve gotten hard again if it was possible. He just focused on cleaning you up with his tongue, licking into your cunt until he was satisfied with his work.

He enjoyed a good eyeful of your pussy and ass and decided he wanted to inspect you more in the future, moving to his feet.

“Your sins are absolved.” His words were followed by a slap to your ass before he tucked himself back into his pants.

You moaned and stood up fully, turning to see that he was holding your dress out to you. Part of you wanted to ask if that was it, craving more despite how much he’d just offered you, but you stayed silent and put your dress back on.

You walked up to the altar when he just stared at you, grabbing your panties off and moving to step into them. There was a tap on your shoulder before you could and you turned to face Max, who was now holding a collection plate and grinning mischievously.

“We’re collecting if you want to help the church. I, for one, would love to put those on my face later and jack off.”

You gaped at him for a moment before slowly smiling and laughing softly, dropping the lace into the collection plate. “I should probably go…”

He nodded, but put his free hand on the side of your face and guided you into a deep kiss, licking into your mouth with remnants of cum on his tongue. It made you moan and he was honestly fucking surprised you didn’t have your own cult of people begging to have you.

“Come back. Just ask for me.” He smirked at your dazed nod and kissed you again before slapping your ass, nudging you up the aisle.

You walked to the door with a bit of a gap between your thighs, finding that the door didn’t seem as heavy as before. You glanced at him over your shoulder before walking out and letting the oak shut behind you.

Max just smirked to himself and chuckled, both satisfied and proud. He looked to the side of the room when he heard a creak, smile not faltering in the slightest even as an older, enraged-looking priest stepped out of the confessional booth. “Hey, pops.”

“Father Phillips, this is unacceptable.” He was red in the face from anger or perhaps something else.

“Is that a crucifix in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Max’s jovial expression did twitch a little bit when the priest let out a growl, and he slowly slid back a step and took your underwear out of the collection plate. “She needed me, buddy! What was I supposed to do, let her walk around all wound up?”

“You weren’t supposed to fornicate with a parishioner in the middle of the fuck—” He immediately stopped his crass words when the other side of the confessional opened and out stepped a small, elderly woman.

Max had honestly forgotten she was in there, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the way she was eyeing him.

It was probably the wink he sent her that took him from probably exiled to definitely exiled, based on the way the head priest cried,

“Get out!”