#i wish i could let go but i keep thinking about it

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: hey guys i hope you enjoy this!! cw: voyeurism ig, also not proofread!!

thinking about cool boyfriend sukuna catching his loser girlfriend reader riding her pillow and shamelessly jerking off to the sight <333

coming to your place after his basketball practices was a natural thing for him to do, and when he and his team finished early his teammates suggested an evening at some bar, but sukuna flipped them off quickly because he wanted to spend time with you after a couple of days in a row spent with his team, at work and dealing with family matters.

so imagine the surprise he felt as soon as he heard the most lewd noises coming from your bedroom. noises that he’d recognise anywhere.

he peeks through the small gap between the doorway and your conveniently opened door; opened just enough for him to see just how perfect you look. the pillow, the one he usually sleeps on, between your thighs, a wet spot visible on its pillowcase, your pretty tits free from any restraint, with your finger cradling them gently, and your face… oh, your face.

the most vulgar expression imaginable, his wet dream come true: your face tilted up, eyes closed with pleading brows pinched upwards, your cheeks dusting with the prettiest shade of red and plump lips pouty, letting out the cutest little whines and moans.

sukuna gets hard instantly, hands flying to his crotch with no hesitation as he unzips his pants, sliding them a little lower, just enough to take his cock out. lengthy fingers wrap around his cock as he hisses lowly, eyes focused on printing the beautiful image right into the depths of his mind.

he can tell that you’ve been going at it for a while now, from how much you are panting and how you lean forward on your hands every other minute because of the annoying yet delicious burn in your fleshy thighs, and he wishes he could be under you instead of that damned pillow, holding you close to his chest and pistoning his hips into you just right, enjoying the way you get pliant under his touch.

well, he will do that, but sukuna wants to enjoy the thrill of this a little bit too, wants to watch you pleasure yourself without him.

you roll your hips so expertly he feels even more jealous of that inanimate object, imaging the juices on it being on his pelvis instead. the languid movements, how you know when to push down further and how to keep the steady rhythm, how your face twists in exquisite pleasure with no care for the world — sukuna can barely stop himself from cumming right then and there.

he strokes himself further to match the roll of your hips, biting his bottom lip helplessly as he feels himself getting closer, just like you do. your hips get more erratic, humping the pillow faster and faster while your whines get louder and longer, and sukuna grips the doorway with his free hand to not go through it and disturb you, head over heels from how fascinating you look.

the only thing he’s late to realise is that you’re not even watching anything nasty to help you reach your high, and that becomes clear when you start crying out his name, his beloved nickname, in a high-pitched tone that makes him go weak in the knees.

you come with a strangled cry of his name, gripping the sheets with shaky hands to ground yourself. you come thinking about him.

sukuna thrusts into his own fist uncontrollably, gaining the ability to stop himself only after seeing your heavenly closed eyes open, the fucked out look taking over your face as he grips his shaft tighter to not cum on the floor right then and there.

you pant heavily, pleased hums escaping your throat, but sukuna doesn’t let you bask in the post-orgasm haze as he barges into your room unceremoniously. with zipped pants of course.

as if he wasn’t just jerking himself off to the sight of you riding a pillow filled with his scent.

squealing in surprise, you yank the blanket over your body, looking at him with big startled eyes while he casually strolls over to your bed, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and keen eyes focused only on you.

“havin’ fun without me, aren’t ya, loser?” he sighs with a knowing look and starts taking off his shirt.

you watch him carefully, lips trembling as you try to find something to say, something other than a shaky and nervous call of his name.

“‘kuna?” he starts crawling towards you, now shirtless and partially pantless, backing you into the headboard as he hovers over you.

“i’m kinda offended, y’know? didn’t think you’d start without me.”

he doesn’t even look the part; the smirk on his face somehow satisfied and eyes a little too amused to be any kind of offended. you stay quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“you do this a lot?”

“only when i miss you too much.” you mumble with a small pout and he grins, one arm sneaking under your waist to tug you down into a laying position while he still hovers over you.

“you’re lucky i missed you too.”

the huskiness of his voice melts away your insides as you hastily bring your arms around his neck to pull him closer, beckoning him to lay on top of you instead of just hovering on one forearm. sukuna complies, leaning down to place a wet kiss on your jaw before biting on it lightly just to feel you shudder under him.

“let me show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

[bigwishes]

I’m sick and tired of the asian stereotypes. Others keep saying that we’re small, short, weak, polite, smart, sexually repressive, submissive and so many more. Can you make me a complete opposite of what people expect from an Asian man as a hypersexualised, hyper grown and hyper masculine piece of bull meat?

I definitely think I can help with that. It sucks when people press assumptions on you, especially if you don't like the assumptions they make so I think its time we shake up your life to make sure the worlds sees you for how you want to be seen.

First lets start with your first wish, to be hypersexualised. I'm sure you already have an obsession for mega muscled beef cakes with little to no brains but lets turn that obsession up to eleven. You find that whenever you see a buff meat head you are instantly hard, and everyone else will notice it too with a new 15 inch dick, but lets not stop there. Once you get hard your body will almost instantly go on auto pilot as you cant help yourself but rub your dick through your pants, adjusting it, sometimes even straight up soft core jerking off in the middle of the gym. An alpha sex and masturbation addict. You just can't help yourself no matter what you try once you get hard you are forced to cum. Trying to ignore it just makes it worse as you'll get so hard and pent up it will almost be painful and your dick will be forced to leak pre until you give it the attention it demands, and you'll need to take care of it at least twelve times a day or else risk immediately cumming in your pants as soon as you get even slightly turned on.

Second, the hyper grown part of your wish. One of my favourites, there is no such thing as too big and you've got no other choice to agree. There is no going back now. We could just go and make you have to wear 4XL shirts and and baggy work out shorts but honestly dudes like that art still too small for my taste.

You find every inch of yourself growing, You slowly get taller and taller until you stand at a freakishly tall 8ft, your already muscled arms swell with extreme size as you feel your biceps and triceps start to compete for space with your over grown chest and lats. The sound of tearing fabric fills the room as you thighs inflate into thick muscled tree trunks. You watch as your feet burst out of your sneakers. Your underwear feels strange and rubbery as it begins to stretch, and you feel your ass get bigger by the second and the fabric of your new rubbery underwear ride up giving you a uncomfortable roid wedgie.

The thing about wanting to be Hyper-Grown means you dwarf even the biggest bodybuilders but a body like that has its limits. 8ft tall and over 500 pounds of muscle the only thing you can wear is uncomfortably tight stage posers.

and leggings so tight it feels like its crushing your dick.

If you want to get naked it'll take a good fifteen to twenty minutes of struggling and wrestling with the skin tight fabric and your extreme size just to get it off yourself.

and now for the final stage of your transformation Hyper masculinity. Say goodbye to clear communication dude as a majority of your vocabulary has been replaced with grunts, groans and moans. You spend more time grunting than speaking some people might mistake you for a cave man. Your blood also boils at the drop of a hat, any guy who even makes a joke about your freakish size you take as a personal challenge, stumping up to him and pressing him against the wall and your roided out body.

Your body starts to sweat, and a raw masculine stench fills the air around you. Even if you cared about washing the sweat off your body it wouldn't work anymore. You love how bad you reek, you love how your stench and sweat communicates to weaker men that you are a fucking beast. You don't clean any machine at the gym after using it, you leave a disgusting sweat puddle over everything like marking your territory.

Your mind starts to feel empty, like you have forgotten how to think, the only things that you seem to remember is you love muscle, getting bigger, flexing, your own sweat and jerking off. Even when dominating a guy smaller than you, you can't help but check yourself out in the mirror and love how big you are and how much bigger you're gonna force yourself to become.

Your head being so empty now means your personality has devolved into nothing more but the word bro, grunting and giggling like a typical gym bro.

But that hyper masculinity you wished for keeps that happy go lucky attitude in check as the slightly thing can set you off and make you go on a roided out rampage.

There we go, all your wishes granted, nobody will ever look at you and think of the typical Asian stereotypes ever again.

Unfortunately I can't stop people from assuming you are nothing more than a stupid sweaty roid bull, but honestly how far away from the truth is that.

[anotherocean]

THE SEED IN YOUR SOUL:

This reading is about a dream your soul has for you. This is my second PAC reading and it's like a compass for your soul-- something you deeply desire, something that is already occurring on some level, and something that has seeds within you already. Please feel free to pick more than one pile, or pick them all, or just pick one. This is meant to be a glance at something essential inside you that popped out at me, and some advice moving forward toward a more complete realization of it. Please let me know if you found this helpful or if it resonated! :)

PILE I. You are so beautiful to me Pile 1, and your life is abundant with riches. There is SO MUCH peace here. You can finally rest. The energy I see is you on a tropical island swinging in a hammock without a care in the world. You are allowed to take life as slowly as you want. You really appreciate the sensuality of things. Really truly. That’s what makes you rich. The abundance spills forth from there, and you have the money to cover all the basics (and more) without worry. You even have enough money to take care of your loved ones it seems, which is something that matters to you. You want to share so much of what you have, and that's part of what makes you feel rich too. You’ve carved out a gorgeous life for yourself, and that life is just for you. It doesn’t look like a life that anyone has ever seen before. It’s fully YOURS... you invented it! If the word “mine” isn’t your guiding word, it should be. You are learning about all the things that are yours, and it makes you truly rich. You can live your life in secret if you want. Or you can live it very loud and big. There is a duality to you. Somehow your legacy in life is both very small and very huge. You live both a very secret life, and a very public one. You acquaint yourself with the riches of the world and live in true luxury, as personally defined by you.

Advice: You’re coming off of a really hard time it looks like. Recognize the difficulties you’ve been through. Honor them. Address concerns you have about security and how that may be holding you back. Security is your birthright, but it is a state you can feel without obsessively pursuing it and valuing it above all else. RELEASE your regrets for how you wish things could have been. People and situations are flawed. We are flawed. Life doesn’t always take the twists and turns we like, and it’s your time to move on. It’s time to step away from those things and embrace your confidence, your fire, your passion. Aim to complete what you’ve started and begin afresh. It’s the end of a cycle and the beginning of a glorious new one. You are headed for exciting new opportunities and the feeling of inspiration is just around the corner.

PILE II.

My graceful and gorgeous pile 2. Letting your body be completely free makes you really happy, and this is something you feel allowed to do privately.  You are utterly unique and solitude just allows you to stretch out into that.  You loooooooove to be alone, and it is a truly gorgeous thing.  I think a lot of the time solitude gets a bad rap, but this pile is all about the gorgeousness that comes from really getting to enjoy your own company, and the world around you.  You are EXTREMELY sensual and I mean sensual with a capital SSSSSS.  Your greatest joy is pure quiet, and the sounds of nature.  From this place of solitude, and a deep knowing, you find absolute and utter, tranquility.  Maybe this is a pile that has experienced pain or trauma or power struggles but that is all over.  It’s like all the nature you’ve surrounded yourself with has just sucked it out of you completely.  Your body is going to take over.  I keep getting that this is maybe a scary thing, but it shouldn’t be.  You are 100% aligned with something holy.  Deep down I think you know this.  Anyway, the divine will wash over you.  Just say thanks, or say nothing at all, and melt.  You are here for this kind of bliss. You are absolutely absorbed into a spirituality that many people would die to experience just a fraction of.  You are existing on other wavelengths entirely, and what a stunning thing that is.

Advice: You’re undergoing a massive transformation.  Embrace the upheaval you are going through.  Move away from rigid thinking (“this is the way it should be”).  Rules and adherence to rules are not your friend right now.  You will still want to use your mind to think clearly, but be playful and inquisitive as you do it.  Ask a lot of questions and be curious.  Understand too, that emotional pain may be part of the process toward what you most want right now, and that is okay, it will only make your heart stronger and you more beautiful.  Let joy, friends, community and camaraderie lift you up and be part of your healing process.

PILE III

Right away I get the glory of good food!  Of nourishment!  This is just the surface.  You have absolutely incredible, deep-in-your-body physical confidence.  You are an athlete, a chef, someone whose whole world depends on their body.  Still, you are going to the gym, making the smoothies, swimming, dancing, your world is revolving around your physical self.  You get massages.  In a sense you are free to worship yourself.  You are free to worship your world.  Judgements from other people (and there are some) only thrill you, and you might even enjoy the fiery friction.  Sexuality is a part of your life, and it’s tied to your creativity.  You are of the body, by the body and for the body.  You get the pleasure of standing up for what you believe in.  You are some kind of star.  Something old-fashioned even.  Or there is something about the way you live that is old fashioned.  Or your notoriety (fame?) is old fashioned somehow… You are my most musical pile.

Advice:  You are setting out on a brand new adventure right now—how thrilling.  I can feel the potential and excitement.  You are a bit concerned about the long term stability of your plan and it’s holding you back a bit.  There is some hesitation, and it might be hindering your progress.  Don’t be so conservative right now, but also don’t be reckless.  There is a bit of a push-pull between a conservative approach, and a devil may care attitude.  Balance your enthusiasm with steady and thoughtful planning.  Above all else, embrace collaboration and teamwork.  Recognize the importance of collective efforts.  I promise that even if this does not relate directly to your goals, that peripheral collaborations will still help you.  Learn from people around you.  My other word of advice is take time to rest and recollect.  Be diligent, responsible and practical and be in it for the long haul.  There is stability in that alone, which should give you some comfort.  Practicality without conservatism will do you a world of good right now as you set out on your exciting new path.

PILE IV

You are a traveler down to the deepest parts of yourself.  You see the world and different people in the world, and make connections everywhere you go.  You rush hurriedly from one flight to another, and then you find yourself somewhere exotic and your world gets bigger and your whole mind expands.  It’s like the drapes were drawn in your living room for your whole life and now you’ve finally opened them letting light stream in, and even the windows are open and fresh air is finally getting inside.  You see so many things.  Greatest mountains, other oceans, animals and flora and fauna of other worlds.  In a sense you are like an alien walking on earth and just want to see as much of it as possible before you have to leave.  You are so free.  You step so lightly in this world, and with so much joy.  You go to cafes you’ve never been to, shops you’ve never been to, temples and fragrant forests where the caterpillars are huge and orange and you reach out and touch one out of curiosity.  You are a true citizen of the world, and deeply connected to humanity.  Your travels do not alienate you, they deepen your roots to Earth and connect you with your global family.  

Advice: You are on a new path, perhaps related to the material world or financial comforts.  There are real tangible beginnings now.  What’s holding you back are indecision and possibly procrastination.  Let go of indecision and avoiding the task at hand.  Make a decision and move forward with it… at some point in the future it might be appropriate to make adjustments, but not right now.  Right now you must embrace your vision and your confidence.  Be bold!!!!!!!!!  You might encounter worry, fear, anxiety but face it head on.  Don’t try to deny or hide away.  See the fear for what it is and have a direct confrontation with it (sometimes this is the war in our mind).  Persevere and value your resilience.  Say thank you to yourself for it.

=====

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I may eventually do paid services if people want additional info or clarifying questions. Very grateful to help and hope some of this information resonated with you. I had fun doing it and the hours slipped away. Put in my inbox or in comments if you want to see me focus on a specific reading.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

the longest damn late night phone call from heaven EVER

aka, Emily has a slightly gruesome favor to ask, Charlie's determined to be good and helpful friend, and Vaggie was only half-right about people not recognizing her without her exorcist mask

Charlie: “…not exactly what I expected, when dad said heaven wanted another chat.”

Emily: “I know, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to bother you at home-”

Charlie: “It’s fine. Kinda late for a video call but, hold on.” (slips into hallway) (quietly shuts bedroom door) “It’s important right?”

Emily: “It’s… it’s important to me.”

Charlie: “Well that counts! What’s up? Uh, aside from literally you, anyway.”

Emily: “Before that, is your girlfriend- is Vaggie okay?”

Charlie: “She’s.”

Charlie: “……”

Charlie: “…fine.”

Emily: “There were a lot of bandages.”

Charlie: “Oh. Those.”

Emily: “I wasn’t trying to look, but when you were going past of bed, I just. I’ve never seen one of us like-”

Charlie: “Um I don’t think she’d really like the ‘one of us’ part. Just a heads up.”

Emily: “I’ll remember. Will they heal? Lute’s arm already has, and she said angelic steel is what- what killed that first Exorcist-”

Charlie: “Some of them- Some of them will heal, Vaggie says.”

Emily: “And the others?”

Charlie: “They’ll… probably be like her eye, I guess. The bleeding will stop.”

Emily: “Her eye-?”

Charlie: “Did you know Lute gouged it out with a sword? Right before leaving her in hell?”

Emily: “She- No! Why would she-”

Charlie: “So you didn’t know what Vaggie was when you saw her. You didn’t know what Lute and Adam did to her-”

Emily: “Charlie I SWEAR I had no idea. The Exorcists- other than Lute they keep those masks on almost all time, even up here! I could have walked past Vaggie a hundred times without knowing it!”

Charlie: “….that’s what she said too.”

Emily: “Vaggie?”

Charlie: “Mm.”

Emily: “Why ask me then? She told you and you trust her… right?”

Charlie: “It’s, complicated. And not the point.”

Emily: “Are you two okay-”

Charlie: “Not the point. What can I help heaven with tonight? I’d, kinda like to get back to bed before she wakes up.”

Emily: “Sorry, of course, I just don’t want you two to have more trouble…” (sighs) “…but I guess I’m not the right person to help am I. Not with, all this.”

Charlie: “I don’t blame you for what Lute and Adam did. Or for Sera letting them do it.”

Emily: “It still makes being friends hard, doesn’t it?”

Charlie: “…a little.”

Emily: “I’m-”

Charlie: “But! I’m not gonna let them stop us from doing it.” (determined) “Screw heaven- I wouldn’t have answered the phone if it’d been anyone other than you calling from up there anyway! Well, you or Sir Pentious.”

Emily: “I’m so, SO glad he made it here. ”

Charlie: “Me too.” (smiles) “You need help with something? Tell me. If I can do anything about it, I will.”  

Emily: “Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just… a question.”

Charlie: “Okay?”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “…I’m a little scared to ask.”

Charlie: “That’s okay! I know the feeling! If it helps, I promise I won’t get angry or annoyed just over you asking something!”

Emily: “Thanks. That’s. Not really what I’m scared of.”

Charlie: “Well what parts the scary part?”

Emily: “The answer.”

Charlie: “...huh.”

Emily: “I’m not sure I want to hear it, honestly.”

Charlie: “But you called in the middle of the night so you could ask?”

Emily: “Yes.”

Charlie: “So you DO want to know.”

Emily: “It feels more like I have to know.”

Charlie: “Okay…. uhh. What… kind of question is it?”

Emily: “The battle. The, dead Exorcists.”

Charlie: “Oh fuck. Shoot- Is it about the bodies? Because I’m REALLY sorry again about letting the cannibals uh, eat them. I’d kinda. I’d promised them- the cannibals I mean- and, um. They lost a lot of friends too so-”

Emily: “No that’s fine. It’s, it doesn’t matter much once they’re dead does it. S-someone should get to be happy about the fresh. Um. Meat.”

Charlie: “Ssssstillll, I wish I could’ve sent them back-”

Emily: “Did you see-?”

Charlie: “-whoops sorry, go ahead.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “Ah-hem. Go ahead?”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Aaaaany time now…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “….Look, Emily-”

Emily: “I know I’m sorry I-”

Charlie: “No no! I really wish I had all night for this. Really! I wanna be the friend who sits up until four in morning talking- and any other time I would be!”

Emily: “I know.”

Charlie: “Only I also really, really don’t want Vaggie waking up alone tonight. Not after we, after I- I can’t do that to her right now, okay?”

Emily: “…yes. Okay.”

Charlie: “How about this- you call back in the morning, we settle in and-”

Emily: “Did you see an Exorcist that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “-uhhh, what?”

Emily: “An Exorcist.”

Charlie: “I mean, yes? There were dozens! Pretty hard to keep count when you’re fighting for you-”

Emily: “But was there one that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “Fit in what where- oh ugh Angel Dust get OUT of my head-”

Emily: “With the others. The other Exorcists. Was there one in the fight that, didn’t quite look right? Caught your eye for some reason?”

Charlie: “Don’t they all kinda look the same?”

Emily: “Yes. Mostly.”

Charlie: “Bloodstained uniform, horned mask, weird crossed out eye and stitched mouth aesthetic thing, scary black and white wings-”

Emily: “Did the cannibals eat the wings?”

Charlie: “The w-”

Emily: “The wings of the dead Exorcists. Did they eat-”

Charlie: “Emily- those are feathers. The cannibals ate the meaty parts sure, but-”

Emily: “So you could still check. If. If any of the Exorcists who died. If they had strange wings.”

Charlie: “I guess, I-”

Emily: “Charlie. I need you to check.”

Charlie: “What-”

Emily: “I just need to know-”

Charlie: “But-”

Emily: “-please-”

Charlie: “Hey it’s okay, I’ll check! I’ll check first thing tomorrow!”

Emily: “Promise?”

Charlie: “Of course! It’ll be easy, don’t worry! Vaggie saved the wings from all of them. I’m not sure what for- some kind of funeral I think- or target practice- funerary target practice? Is that an angel thing…?”

Emily: “We don’t….really have those in Heaven. Funerals.”

Charlie: “Oh. Right.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Must be nice.”

Emily: “I’m sorry.”

Charlie: “No- that came out wrong. Forget it! So the wing thing is just a Vaggie thing or something. Anyway. Checking the wings. Nooooo problem. CAN do.”

Emily: “Thank you. And. And you’ll just tell me about it? Not anyone else in heaven?”

Charlie: “Sure! Is it a secret?”

Emily: “No.”

Charlie: “Buuuut you don’t want Sera finding out.”

Emily: “I’ll tell her later. When I’m… Once I’ve…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Oh Emily hey- it’s okay! Shh, it’s okay!!”

Emily: “I don’t know if it is.” (voice breaking) “Sera won’t let me near the Exorcists and Lute won’t answer any questions about them- I don’t know who else to ask or if I really want to know, but I can’t sleep, and if she didn’t die down there then I NEED to find her somehow and ask her HOW she could’ve been doing this! Murdering people, killing souls-”

Charlie: “Whoa wait, ask who? What am I even checking the Exorcist wings for?”

Charlie: “… Who…who are you looking for?”

Emily: “I don’t know her name. We never met.”

Charlie: “You seem to really care about her, for someone you’ve never met.”

Emily: “Because she was DIFFERENT! She-”

Emily: (looks away)

Emily: “…she’s part of why I never questioned the Exorcists. She. I thought she was proof that underneath masks, they meant well. That they were strict and distant but also protectors, and they cared, and…”

Charlie: “…and now you know what she was doing the whole time.”

Emily: “She CAN’T have been. You shouldn’t be able to be so kind and gentle and still-”

Charlie: “People can be a lot of different things, to different people.”

Emily: “How?”

Charlie: “That’s just… what makes people, people, I think. We can all do things we never thought we’d do.”

Emily: “Exorcists kill children don’t they. Child sinners- they don’t spare them, do they?”

Charlie: “They don’t really DO the whole ‘sparing’ thing. Not in the Pride Ring. Only my dad’s family is safe from exterminations- or was safe. Kids… if they don’t have anyone, or if their families can’t keep them safe, then…” (shudders) “…yeah. I’ve. I found the bodies a few times.”

Emily: “How… how can they-”

Charlie: “I don’t know.” (tired) (slumping back against the door) “They just do.”

Emily: “She can’t have done that! That’s the ONE thing I know about her- she LOVED children. Falling in line and being a good Exorcist didn’t matter as soon as a child needed her!”

Charlie: “Well- well maybe she wasn’t one of the ones who… hurt kids. Maybe she didn’t do that.”

Emily: “But she must have seen it happening. Known it happened. And she didn’t stop it.”

Charlie: (wince) “T- tell me about her? The parts you saw up in heaven, her being nice to those kids- that happened too! What was she like?”

Emily: “…watchful.”

Charlie: “A guardian angel huh?” (smiles weakly) “I think I know the type.”

Emily: “She should’ve been that. She shouldn’t have-” (sighs) “…Exorcists keep to themselves, up in heaven.”

Charlie: (grits teeth) “If they’re mostly all like Lute then that’s probably the only way to keep heaven a nice place.”

Emily: “Lute isn’t… well I guess I don’t really know her either. I always thought she was just paranoid, busy being overprepared, scared for heaven and channeling it into anger…. maybe she is that? Maybe she just-”

Charlie: “She tried stabbing out Vaggie’s other eye.”

Emily: “….”

Emily: “A lot of things make sense now, knowing what she and Adam were doing.”

Charlie: “Like keeping the Exorcists separate?”

Emily: “That, and the identical uniforms, the masks… the constant, BRUTAL training and practice.”

Charlie: “Building trust in a warzone….”

Emily: “What?”

Charlie: “Nothing- How did any of them get near a kid, if that’s what it’s like?”

Emily: “They didn’t. It was an accident.”

Charlie: “Now THAT’S depressing.”

Emily: “I guess so..”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “So. What happened?”

Emily: “Oh… some children were testing their wings. Just out having fun, you know. A few flew out of sight- their friends tried looking for them, but there are parts of heaven not everyone can always reach.”

Charlie: “There is? Why-”

Emily: “Heaven’s supposed to be a peaceful, happy place. An eternity of rest and recovery- It’s supposed to be safe. To be safe, Sera always said the Exorcists needed to be ready to defend it, and they needed space to not always be happy or peaceful.”

Charlie: “They always seemed pretty happy about not being peaceful, not gonna lie.”

Emily: “They get really into training with each other- but do you mean, even during the exterminations-?”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY then.”

Emily: (frustrated) “I wish things would stop making so much sense!”

Charlie: “Same.”

Emily: “It was right there all along, and I didn’t see it!”

Charlie: “I mean, they really didn’t want you to.”

Emily: “And how many people are dead because of that?”

Charlie: “It’s not your fault… And it’s not all bad.” (weak chuckle) “Vaggie likes it better down here. The one upside to finding out old secrets is how it can make things better- she makes much more sense now too.”

Emily: “In good ways?”

Charlie: “In… in kinda silly, kinda sad ways.”  

Emily: “Silly is good.”

Charlie: “Yeah…”

Emily: “Sorry. I won’t pry. I’m just listening- passively- if you want.”

Charlie: "It’s nothing super personal or secret, just that, I get why she likes high places and open spaces when she needs thinking time. Not like the view’s amazingly great down here, so I always wondered… All those times finding her on roof tops or the hotel’s crow’s nest."

Charlie: "I asked if staring at heaven's light was a moth demon thing once and she just shrugged, but the angel thing makes so much more sense and she's terrible at lying if I'd just ASKED-”

Emily: "Now you're sounding like me."

Charlie: "URGH right- good things, good things are- when she's up there, I know now she's either cursing heaven or hating herself."

Emily: "... is there a better good thing? Because that's..."

Charlie: "Now I can HELP her. With that."

Emily: "That's a good thing, yes."

Charlie: "She doesn't have to walk around all the time being scared of me finding out and getting angry or hurt, I DID find out and I WAS angry and and hurt, and it was fine."

Emily: "Well..."

Charlie: "Okay fine, not fine but BETTR. It IS better."

Emily: "..."

Emily: “...your hotel has a crow’s nest? That must be perfect for her.”

Charlie: “What? Oh, yes. She loves it...”

Charlie: "Shit even her HAIR makes so much sense now."

Emily: “She’s grown hers out- I’ve never thought about an Exorcist with long hair- it’s very pretty.”

Charlie: “Pretty, fun to play with, but she leaves it loose even when all the swooshing annoys her. It gets in the way of her trying to stab people."

Emily: "I bet we could find a metaphor in that."

Charlie: "I guess it’s kinda like wings though? The weight and having something cover her back like that.”

Emily: “Wings are… not just that. Wings are pretty different.”

Charlie: “Long hair was probably still better than nothing though. I wonder if she’ll cut it now? Or just keep it in the ponytail?”

Emily: “What do you mean?”

Charlie: "Well, short hair is easier to take care of, right? Plus she seemed to really like having it out of her face during the battle, even after getting her wings back-”

Emily: “No, wait- Getting them back? She’s an angel, doesn’t she have- hasn’t she always had….”

Charlie: “No she… They didn’t mention that either, did they.”

Emily: “What did they do.”

Charlie: “One guess. And one guess who ‘they’ were.”

Emily: “Lute. Adam leaves- he left almost everything that actually needed doing to her.”

Charlie: “Well this time the thing that needed doing-”

Emily: “They took her wings.”

Charlie: "It was more of a ripping action? Tearing?? Wrenching- No, ripping sounds right- Ripped them off and left them on the ground next to her. Vaggie had to stuff them in a dumpster before any sinners saw them and mobbed her.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “M-maybe I shouldn’t have said that part.”

Emily: “It’s fine. Important to know.”

Charlie: “But Vaggie only just told ME about it, and now I’m blubbering it out to you- fuck. Forget I said it? Please?”

Emily: “You should talk about it with someone who isn’t her, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Not like this though! Not with-”

Emily: “An angel. Someone from heaven.”

Charlie: “-not with someone she isn’t even friends with yet.”

Emily: “Thanks for the ‘yet’ part. I hope you’re right about it.”

Charlie: “I will be. But um. Until then…?”

Emily: “All I know is she didn’t have wings and now she does again. No specifics.”

Charlie: “Thank you.”

Charlie: (clears throat) “You, uh. You were telling me about YOUR Exorcist.”

Emily: “Right. Her and children. The ones who wandered off-”

Charlie: “-onto the one place in heaven that isn’t sunshine and rainbows and fluffy clouds of happiness, right right.”

Emily: “It was a bit of shoreline Exorcists use for live battle training.”

Charlie: “Yay fun?”

Emily: “Where they, they practice tearing each other apart with their bare hands-”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Emily: “-weapons aren’t used for it, don’t worry! None of the children were in any real danger!”

Charlie: “But they SAW it!?”

Emily: “From a distance… not, not close enough to get splattered by blood….”

Charlie: “Oh wow that’s SO reassuring!”

Emily: “Except for one of them.”

Charlie: “How the HECK didn’t anyone notice there were kids around before starting that stuff!? Didn’t they CHECK-”

Emily: “The Exorcists are very used to being left alone.”

Charlie: “STILL!”

Emily: “I know. I was so angry at first- I didn’t show it, the other children were already hiding under my wings after I’d gathered them up. They didn’t need me getting mad too.”

Charlie: “Didn’t wanna to scare them?”

Emily: “Watching the Exorcists was scary enough.”

Charlie: “I’m trying SO real hard to imagine a happy ending for this.”

Emily: “It’s there, don’t worry. See, one of the children had wandered further than the rest, and was just standing there, frozen. Staring up at.. all that.”

Charlie: “That doesn’t sound happy.”

Emily: “It was so frustrating! I couldn’t get to them without bringing the others even closer too! Some of them could barely move they were so frightened- I tried calling up at the Exorcists, asking them to stop, but they either didn’t hear me or ignored me-”

Charlie: “FUCK that’s just-”

Emily: “But then-”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “One of them left formation.”

Charlie: (smiling) “Yeah?”

Emily: “She came swooping down, all soaked in blood- not hers, I don’t think. She didn’t look hurt. She landed right in front of the child."

Charlie: “Oh covered in BLOOD that must’ve been, er, something.”

Emily: “It wasn’t great. Poor thing was so scared under her shadow I thought they’d cry.”

Charlie: “Wouldn’t blame them.”

Emily: “Me neither. Those masks… but’s it’s funny, you know, how much a small thing can change everything else.”

Charlie: “She wasn’t as scary as her mask, was she?”

Emily: “No. She was, awkward. I saw her do a little wave and kneel down- later they said she’d talked with them, asked if they were hurt and where their home was.”

Charlie: “Normal stuff.”

Emily: “Strange for an Exorcist. Then she- she offered to take them home. She was still all spattered with-”

Charlie: “Blood. Ew.”

Emily: “I didn’t know what was going on when it happened, I just saw the Exorcist stand up and march right into the sea, right into the waves! She come out clean enough but also. Well. Also sopping wet and a bit um, a bit less scary looking."

Charlie: "Heheh."

Emily: "A lot less scary looking. A little pitiful looking?”

Charlie: “Like Husk after the champagne bottle incident!”

Emily: “Like who?”

Charlie: “Oh our bartender. Long story- but I’ve seen sad and bedraggled wings before. I’d LOVE to see them on an Exorcist!”

Emily: “It was pretty funny. And she didn’t seem to mind the child laughing at her either. If anything I think she made more of a show of shaking herself dry and fluffing up afterwards, once she heard them giggling over it.”

Charlie: “Aww~! She didn’t wanna scare them either!”

Emily: “She was silly. I’d never seen an Exorcist being silly before. The other ones watching didn’t seem to like it. They’d finally stopped fighting and looked like they were muttering to each other… Lute, Adam, even Sera, they're really strict about not having Heaven's army mixing with the rest of Heaven...”

Charlie: “But she- the silly exorcist- she didn’t care.”

Emily: “If she did, it didn’t stop her.”

Charlie: “Did she take the kid home herself then? Once she wasn’t covered in. Uhh. Blood.”

Emily: “She did. The other children were so jealous!”

Charlie: “Jealous??”

Emily: “After she helped wipe off the, the blood spatters on them, she scooped them up and just rocketed into the sky.”

Charlie: “Ohmygosh that's so FUN! Angel piggyback rides are the best!”

Emily: “It looked like it. Exorcists train and practice, and their wings are strong- I knew that but I still don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move like that in the air. Like she was dancing.”

Charlie: “Vaggie says fighting and dancing have a lot in common.”

Emily: “She does?”

Charlie: “Mm-hmm. And if SHE’S any example, then I bet plenty of the Exorcists would be GREAT dancers too! If they bothered not killing people long enough to find out, that is.”

Emily: “If. Right."

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie stopped. She was, she used to- and it took time but, she stopped.”

Emily: “And Lute cut out her eye for it.”

Charlie: “I don’t think she regrets losing it. Or- it was worth it to her? She.. sometimes it’s almost like she feels like she deserved it.” 

Emily: “I hope not. It shouldn’t have happened, it didn’t help anyone.”

Charlie: “No. It really didn’t.”

Emily: “They probably used her as an example of why no one else should do that.”

Charlie: “…well… maybe your Exorcist will still think it’s worth it?”

Emily: “Maybe. If she’s not dead.”

Charlie: “R-right.” 

Emily: “And she’s really not mine. I don’t even know her.”

Charlie: “You know enough to care.”

Emily: “To care about someone who might not even deserve it? How does that help anyone-”

Charlie: “EVERYONE deserves to be cared about.”

Emily: “Even-”

Charlie: “Everyone. At least to the point of caring if they’re dead or not.”

Emily: “… you’d make a great angel, Charlie.”

Charlie: “HA! I’m not sure that’s a compliment anymore but uh. Thanks?”

Emily: “I meant it more that, if Sera and Lute and Adam had been more like you, then none of this would have happened. Or if you’d been up here, you would’ve stopped them.”

Charlie: “Ehhh… I kinda think if you couldn’t manage it, I wouldn’t have either..? Definitely NOT alone and not without-”

Emily: “You started the hotel! You had to go against so many people to do that-”

Charlie: “-okay yes but we only JUST got that going. And I only could do THAT because I had…”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “It’s easier, with someone who believes in you.”

Emily: “Like a partner?”

Charlie: “Yeah.”

Emily: “A girlfriend.”

Charlie: “….yeah.”

Emily: “And it’s late. I’ll let you get back to her.”

Charlie: “It’s probably okay. She was tired and, she’s a pretty heavy sleeper once she actually falls asleep. You can usually tell when she really conks out because the snoring-”

Charlie: “-oh fuck oh no no no not again DON’T TELL HER I SAID THAT EITHER!”

Emily: “I won’t.” (giggling) “Although I might’ve heard it earlier.”

Charlie: “Fuck. Shit! FUCK!”

Emily: “But I swear on all six of my wings I won’t breathe a word. I also don’t know what happened to you guys- other than a huge traumatic revelation followed by an actual battle for your lives-”

Charlie: “That was a thing, yes.”

Emily: “-but I really hope you two are okay.”

Charlie: “Oh we will be! Weirdly enough, we’re better off now than we were before, even!”

Emily: “Lots of new things you can finally talk about?”

Charlie: “SO many.”

Emily: “Heh. Good. I’m glad something turned out okay from all this.”

Charlie: “And I really hope at least ONE more thing can turn out okay. For you, specifically.”

Emily: “We’ll… we’ll see I guess.”

Charlie: “First thing in the morning. I promise.”

Emily: (breath in) “Okay….” (breathe out) “Thank you.”

Charlie: “Any time. Or, no problem. Or- not that I WANT you to need help identifying bodies again anytime soon, I just meant…”

Emily: (laughs) “I know, Charlie. It’s okay. And it’s also really late. Good night.”

Charlie: “Good n- oh hey wait, Emily!!”

Emily: “-yes?”

Charlie: “What AM I looking for exactly? With the wings.”

Emily: “Oh- You know how Exorcist always those two stripes on theirs? The black bands on their feathers, the undersides.”

Charlie: “Yyyyep, yep. Now that you mention it…”

Emily: “She only had one.”

Charlie: "......"

Charlie: “…one… wing stripe?”

Emily: “It’s how I noticed her at first.”

Charlie: “That’s, that’s rare among Exorcists, huh?”

Emily: “She was the only one with wings like that, I think. Every few years I’d catch sight of her following behind Lute and Adam with a few others, trailing them through the actually populated places in Heaven for once, in full Exorcist gear.”

Charlie: “Well if she, if they were masked, maybe it wasn’t always the same person-”

Emily: “It was. She was easy enough to spot even without the wings, once I knew what to look for.”

Charlie: “Which was…?”

Emily: “She was the only one who’d wave back at the children who waved at her.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “…oh.”

Emily: “Sorry. This is, a pretty depressing thing to go back to sleep after, isn’t it? Try to have some good dreams okay?”

Charlie: “I- I will. I’ll try. Um, you too?”

Emily: “I’ll give my best shot, if I can sleep. Thank you again, Charlie. Night.”

Charlie: “Good night..”

-call ends-

Charlie: “……..”

Muffled voice: “….charlie?”

Charlie: “SHIT!” (bangs head on door) (slips back into bedroom) “I’m here, I’m right here- no no no don’t sit up-!”

Vaggie: “What’s wrong?”

Charlie: “Nothing! Just a phone call. Please lay back down?”

Vaggie: “Something happened. Everyone okay?”

Charlie: “Everyone’s fine- Emily calling for a small favor that’s all- Vaggie c’mon, we just got it so your ribs weren’t getting pressed on…”

Vaggie: “Emily.” (alarmed) “Did Lute try something? Did Sera-?”

Charlie: “NO. Nothing happened to anyone! Now, SIT!”

Vaggie: (sits)

Vaggie: “Something’s wrong.”

Charlie: “Well my girlfriend happens to be one half broken bones and other half tenderized meat and won’t stay still, so THAT’S not exactly great!”

Vaggie: “…..”

Charlie: “…….”

Charlie: (sits too) “…Emily wants help checking the dead Exorcists. She might’ve known one of them.”

Vaggie: “Shit.”

Charlie: “Yeah..”

Vaggie: “But, knew one? How would she know any of us?”

Charlie: “Well…”

Vaggie: “She’s a seraph. The only Exorcist who goes near the higher ups is Lute.”  

Charlie: “Right but, just because you never met her doesn’t mean…”

Charlie: (sighs)

Charlie: “It was a LONG talk. Tell you tomorrow?”

Vaggie: "I guess... If you promise to be my pillow and lay down for a while instead of just pacing some more, then yeah, I can wait.”

Charlie: “Okay not fair- I was taking a call!”

Vaggie: “Your hoofbeats were tip tapping through my dreams long before then, babe.”

Charlie: “Motherfucker.”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Sleep, sweetie.” (drags them down)

Charlie: “Hey don’t act like that wasn’t MY line a moment ago!”

Vaggie: “A moment ago all I knew was something was wrong and you were sad. Now I know just the usual shit is wrong, and you’re dead tired.”

Charlie: “Guess you’re not wrong there…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Hmm?”

Charlie: "Do you.. like Emily?"

Vaggie: "Like her? The one not asshole angel up in heaven? She got all fired up with you about the shit unfairness of hell and stuff. What's not to like."

Charlie: "That's not the same as you actually liking her though."

Vaggie: "Hun, we've barely met. It's not like I went on the heaven tour with her."

Charlie: "Buuut.. maybe you'd like to get to know her?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to get to know her."

Charlie: ".... I just wish there was some part of heaven that... wasn't bad for you."

Vaggie: "Hey, it was heaven. Murder soldier cult thing aside, if we're just talking personal comfort or whatever, it wasn't the worst thing in creation."

Charlie: "Wow what a stunning review! Other than the psychological trauma, it was great!"

Vaggie: "It wasn't that bad. Just you know. Comparatively."

Charlie: "Comparatively?"

Vaggie: "To this. Being here like this, with you."

Charlie: "Hmph."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "... you asleep?"

Vaggie: "Almost. But it feels like you have another question before you're ready for sleep."

Charlie: "You don't have to answer this one."

Vaggie: "Me not answering is kinda what fucked us over before."

Charlie: "It's different now. We can wait until you're ready."

Vaggie: "I'm ready. Ask."

Charlie: "....okay."

Charlie: "Um..."

Charlie: “Was. The sinners you killed-”

Vaggie: “Murdered.”

Charlie: “Murdered, okay. Okay. Were they. Were any of them… kids?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “Once.”

Vaggie: “Almost.”

Charlie: “…almost… so, that was the time you stopped.”

Vaggie: “Yes.”

Charlie: “Okay. Because it was a kid?”

Vaggie: “I don’t know.”

Charlie: “What d-”

Vaggie: “I don’t know what I mean. It doesn’t. I don’t think it matters. Charlie- not killing one time isn’t the same as… never having killed.”

Charlie: “I know- I mean, I get that-”

Vaggie: “It doesn’t fix anything, or make anything better.”

Charlie: “It doesn't have to! We’re working on that part together. With the hotel.”

Vaggie: “It's not your thing to have to make up for.”

Charlie: “My home, my people, my friends and my girlfriend. Mine mine mine. And you feel better now you’ve stopped, don’t you?”

Vaggie: “Feeling like a less crappy person also isn’t the same as feeling better.”

Charlie: “It’s not?”

Vaggie: “Thinking you’re a good person, a hero even, is a pretty great feeling. Finding out you’re murderer sucks.”

Charlie: “You ARE a good-!”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Please?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “What about when I hug you?”

Vaggie: “… hard not to feel lucky as hell, then.”

Charlie: “Good” (hugs) "Me too."

Vaggie: “Kinda hard to hug back while I’m lying half on top of you… Would a wing snuggle be alright?”

Charlie: “It won’t hurt your ribs??”

Vaggie: “No. I could use a stretch, honestly.”

Charlie: “Then gimme the floofies!”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “GIMME GIMME~”

Vaggie: "Floofies at your service." (wings go floof) (snuggles one over charlie) “I’m glad they came back.. different.”

Charlie: “With the gray?”

Vaggie: “Mm. Thoughts?”

Charlie: “GRAY-t! They go WAY better with your hair now!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Nice. Girlfriend approved."

Charlie: "And it's lucky we ARE girlfriends, or else your pretty wings would have girls FLOCKING to you!"

Vaggie: "Right." (SNORTS) "Night, Charlie.”

Charlie: “If you’re wishing me goodnight to try stoping the wing puns, please know there’s more where that came from! I am in no way winging it here.”

Vaggie: “I figured.”

Charlie: "I really do love your wings, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Really helps they don't look like they used to."

Charlie: "Hmm. Is the anything other than the color different?"

Vaggie: "... Isn't that enough?"

Charlie: "I don't mean it like that! It's just, well, they only have one stripe on them, and the other exorcists-"

Vaggie: "They were like that before. Sorry."

Charlie: "Vaggie I don't NEED them to look different. I'm just, curious!"

Vaggie: "Uh-huh."

Charlie: "Really! Did any of the other exorcists have-?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "None of them? Ever?"

Vaggie: "Not since I took up vanguard duty. Or since. Looks like Lute got rid of the position after I- after getting rid of me. Now they just all stream down into hell all at once. No one scouts ahead." (mutters) "Messy."

Charlie: "Huh."

Vaggie: "So I guess my wings didn't change that much really."

Charlie: "If they'd stayed exactly the same I would have loved them."

Vaggie: "Not sure I'd want you to."

Charlie: "Too bad. They're part of you. They're part of the most amazing woman I've ever met.... If you like them better now though, that's good. Maybe you. Maybe you'll feel like having them out more?"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "BUT I want eternal dibs on the wing hugs."

Vaggie: "What? You staking a claim?"

Charlie: "Yes absolutely. My wing hugs, okay?" (hugs tighter) "Mine."

Vaggie: "Okay." (chuckling) (relaxing) "They're all yours, babe." (snuggling in) “Love you...”

Charlie: “Love you too, Vaggie.”

Charlie: (smooches gf's forehead) “Goodnight…”

Vaggie: (already asleep)

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: (traces the one stripe on Vaggie’s wing)

Charlie: "...you probably could have been happy up there... if they'd let you."

Charlie: (wipes face)

Charlie: “… fuck heaven.”  

Vaggie: (SNORES)

Charlie: (grins) (still teary-eyed) “Exactly.”

[mayamidnightmelody]

Art of Bill Medcalf

William Edward (Bill) Medcalf (1920 - 2005)

Bill Medcalf was totally ahead of his time with his pin-up art! 😍 Like, imagine these super cute paintings from back in the day that are still iconic AF today! He was all about capturing these bombshell babes in their element, rockin' those retro vibes like nobody else. His style was on point, blending realism with a touch of fantasy, making you wish you could step into those scenes! 🎨

Each painting by Medcalf is like a glimpse into this fantasy world where everything's glamorous and sassy. His babes are always so confident and playful, showing off those killer curves and making you go, "Wow!" He had this knack for detail, every brushstroke making these gals look alive and full of personality. 🌟

One thing you can't miss about Medcalf's work is how he nailed those vintage vibes. Think about it: those retro hairstyles, the fashion that's now back in trend, and those smoldering expressions that say, "I know I'm hot." It's like stepping into a time machine where beauty standards were all about class and sass! 💃

His drawing style? Flawless. The way he could capture the human form, especially the female figure, was legendary. Smooth lines, delicate shading, and colors that pop like they're straight out of a modern fashion mag. It's like he painted these pin-ups to be timeless, always keeping them fresh and relevant. 🖌️

And let's not forget the themes he explored! From beach babes soaking up the sun to sultry sirens lounging in luxurious settings, Medcalf covered it all. He knew how to make art that speaks to your soul and your sense of style, no matter what decade you're in. 😎

Even today, Medcalf's paintings are poppin' on social media and inspiring new artists. People are still vibing with his style because it's not just about the beauty, it's about the attitude. His work is like a mood board for confidence and self-expression, reminding us to own our uniqueness and flaunt it! 🌈

So yeah, Bill Medcalf wasn't just an artist. He was a vibe curator, a trendsetter of his time, and a total legend in the pin-up scene. His legacy lives on through every cheeky smile and every perfectly painted eyelash. Cheers to keeping art spicy and iconic! 🎉

[tired-biscuit]

oki i saw u repost the ‘herding dog x lamb x wolf’ post and i am asking u to pls walk w me here … that trope with naruto and kiba. maybe naruto is the protective hearding dog, anxiously looking for the lost lamb that strayed a bit too far from the herd one night. the poor pup’s so worried, ears flat against his head and big eyes shaken with fear that something bad happened to you as he walks deeper into the dark forest.

little did he know, the helpless little lamb was far from in trouble. in the arms of the big bad wolf that caught her, how could she be? as poor naruto is wondering around the woods, fearing the worst case scenario, you’re on your chest, squished against the grass as wolf boy kiba mounts you from behind, knot inflating as his canines mark you all over. grunts and moans of pleasure come from the both of you, only aiding naruto in his search.

and when naruto does end up finding you, he’s… conflicted. well of course he’s horrified at first! a wolf is mounting you for goodness’s sake! at the same time, however, he can’t help but feel a bit jealous. why does the stray get to mount you and he can’t? he’s been so nice to you, after all, and he’s known you the longest! if anyone should fill your holes, it should be him!

when naruto interrupts you n kiba, it only turns into a territorial match of who can knock you up first, to truly claim you <33

— possible 🌺 anon? :))

18+ MDNI, fem!reader / cw: hybrids, knotting, breeding

naruto is a tricky one in my opinion, because he might come across as someone who only wants what’s best for you, but then when he gets the chance to pick you up and carry you to safety, he just… falters. doubts himself and his clashing desires.

and the fact that you smell like nothing but sweat and restless hormones doesn’t help his case either. he tries being the hero, tries to stand his ground and threaten and intimidate kiba for taking advantage of a sweet thing like you in such a ‘disgusting’ manner, but the wolf hybrid just sneers, exposing his elongated canines while he tells him that all he did was keep you safe. after all, the woods can be quite the dangerous place for a little lamb such as yourself, so it’s actually a good thing that a big beast like him has kept you warm and protected from other predators, is it not?

but that can’t possibly be true, can it? though come to think of it, the dazed smile that sits on your innocent-looking face now sure tells naruto otherwise… you’re perfectly content, with or without him. you feel safe, even with several bite marks and scratches littered across your plush body.

and you also feel… needy. like you’re in heat.

so it’s no wonder that you bunch up his shirt in your trembling fists and wiggle your hips while he’s still holding onto you. that you whine and immediately try to push away from him and go back to your new scary-looking wolf friend, whose already sharp smile grows even more honed when naruto, being the loyal dog that he is, tells you that you don’t need to worry, that he’s going to get you right back home.

but the problem is that you don’t want to go home! no, no, no, what you want is to stay right here, and feel the dirt underneath your fingernails while the big bad wolf continues to make you feel like one of a kind and special instead of just another head amongst the herd.

so after a bit of back and forth, and a warning growl so deep that it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand to attention when it escapes the wolf hybrid’s throat, naruto finally succumbs.

kiba isn’t particularly happy about it — his gaze is piercing and his teeth are bared in a snarl as he watches you unclasp the collar and unbutton the dog hybrid’s pants — but he lets you do as you wish if it means that you’ll get to stay in the end. his desire to have you underneath him again is just another form of possessiveness. he’ll swallow the bullet even if it kills him.

and naruto, well, he feels this upcoming sense of animalistic frenzy come forth as he watches you lay on the soft grass and spread your legs for him; clearly beckoning him to give in to the urges that he’s been having for months now just so that you can get your way in the end. by the time he finally crawls on top of you and pushes his cock between your wet folds, still visibly hesitant, you’re already pliant, soft, and so slick between your thighs that he can see them glisten.

he knows what the reason behind it is. you’re already so full of cum and fucked out that you take him with utmost ease. your body is so warm and stretchy that when he goes to push your knees to your chest, all you do is sigh with pleasure instead of squirm with discomfort. he cautiously licks the side of your cheek, tasting salt, and his canine instincts take over eventually — making his back hunched and his temples drip with sweat as he mindlessly ruts into you, pounding your sweet pussy in a frighteningly similar way the wolf had previously done.

in the end, they’re two sides of the same coin.

you let out a broken whimper when you feel his knot begin to swell inside you. he’s nothing like the good boy that you’ve once known him to be; no, now his collar lays abandoned in the grass beside you, and he’s growling lowly into the side of your neck, letting his canines drag across your pulse point as he holds onto you with a grip so tight that it might just bruise your already marked skin.

when he sinks his claws into the back of your thighs and spills his load inside you, kiba is already nosing his way between you, cooing at you that you have to roll back onto your belly now because it’s his turn to breed you again, that he has to make sure the pups are his instead of the ‘mutt’s’.

they don’t like each other, that much is obvious.

however, they will refrain from ripping each other’s throats out if it means that you’ll offer them yours.

[vampyresovereign]

pooka..pooka..!!! do Leona dating HEADCANONS!

*rubs your feet*

your wish is my command pooka doodle... -isa<3

DATING LEONA KINGSCHOLAR HEADCANONS

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Quick Synopsis: just a bunch of general headcanons of what leona would be like in a relationship + little drabbles in between Tags: Use of Y/N, use of "herbivore" nickname, reader is not Yuu, no specific physical description of reader, reader is a Night Raven student

HOW YOU TWO WOULD MEET

From the way the books/vignettes portray him, I'm going to be real and say I see Leona as an introvert, maybe go as far to say he's kind of a shut in. OBVIOUSLY not as much as Idia, but he doesn't really strike me as someone who would be actively looking for love like that (at first.) definitely not the type to do the cliche "locking eyes with object of affection for the first time and just falling head over heels" shtick. to me, it seems like he's just tuning everything out until he eventually graduates, which is why for you to be even considered, you'd have to be a constant, like someone he's always getting partnered with in classes or a mutual friend. sorry guys.. no hallway crushes here.

In all honesty, you were less than ecstatic when Crewel had decided to partner you with your fellow classmate, Leona Kingscholar.

He had never done anything to you personally to give you a negative impression of him, but it was just his demeanor and how he carried himself around the general public. Not speaking in class, you could barely recall his voice, and constantly maintaining that annoyed scowl.. When he was awake.

Did you mention that he had no shame about sleeping in class?

He just.. intimidated you. When it was about time to shift to your station with Leona, you grabbed your things and awkwardly sat down in the chair next to him. He was leaning back on the chair, eyes closed, ears twitching slightly to let you know he sensed your presence.

Whatever little assignment you two had to do would last a week at most, maybe even shorter than that, so Leona was under the impression he wouldn't have to care about you that much.

Little did he know.

-

CONFESSION HEADCANONS

One thing about Leona is that the man has a TRUCKLOAD of pride inside of him. Though, he's not stupid. He watched Falena fall in love with his future wife, he's seen old friends get into relationships. He is no stranger to love. When he realizes he has feelings for you, his first instinct would be to gaslight himself and try to deny it, especially if you were someone smaller or more sensitive than him. He didn't come to Night Raven to fall in love, especially with someone like you. If anything, it should be the other way around (haaah.) It wasn't even his choice to be on campus to begin with. However, the more he thinks about it, the more he tries to ignore it whilst spending time with you, the more unbearable it becomes to keep his feelings bottled up. The first person he confides in is Ruggie, but not with a direct approach. He'd ask him little one off questions, like "What would you do if _______" or "If you had a partner would ________." Ruggie would most definitely be confused at first, wondering why Leona, who was never once interested in romance was suddenly asking for his opinions on the topic, but Ruggie is smart. He'd see you two hanging out frequently, put the pieces together, and absolutely bombard Leona with questions and jokes. Essentially, Ruggie suggests that the only solution to this "annoyance" as Leona puts it, is for him to grow some balls and tell you how he feels himself. That has Leona grumbling. Expressing your feelings means being vulnerable with someone, something Leona would not be caught dead doing. This isn't fair, where did all his confidence go? If he looked at you any longer, he guessed he going to go into cardiac arrest from the way his heart pounded in his ribcage, like a ticking time-bomb.

"Hey, is everything okay? You said you wanted to talk," You exclaimed.

Leona scratched his head, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds before focusing back on you and your concerned expression. This was embarrassing. There were worse things he hadn't hesitated to say to other people before, but asking you out was of course the thing that had him fumbling like an idiot.

"So.. Remember that movie trailer you kept yappin' about?"

"Of course I do, I've wanted to see it for a while."

"Well, you're in luck. I bought us tickets to go see it Friday night, if you want."

Your lips curled into a small smile, and you began to look genuinely excited. "Really? That's actually so cool of you!"

"Mhm. But by us, I mean just us."

You raised an eyebrow. "...Are you asking me out?"

A light red tint painted his cheeks, indicating to you that you had absolutely hit the nail on his intentions.

"Herbivore, do you want to or not?" He quipped, suddenly getting defensive.

"Alright, alright, sure. It's a date."

-

ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

After that little movie date, it didn't have to be said, but both of you knew that the feeling was mutual. It wouldn't take long for Leona to start referring to you as his partner, and vice-versa. He wouldn't act much differently than he did when you two were "just friends," but he'd definitely be more territorial, teasing, and affectionate in public. I imagine him to be kind of annoying too, walking up to you with your friends and greeting you by saying some shit like "WSG LIL BRO!" and then proceeding to headlock + give you a noogie in front of them. 😭😭 now.. where did all this sudden energy come from? A few months ago, Ruggie remembered Leona never wanting to get out of bed, avoiding classwork and avoiding people in general if he didn't have to talk to them. But when the two of you start dating, he starts to care a lot more about things he considered insignificant. He suddenly starts to notice how frizzy his hair gets over the course of the day, and brushes it periodically so he'll look good when he meets you after your classes. He puts on a nicer smelling cologne. He starts to take notice of his spending habits. Yeah sure, he's a prince, he got mad money, but at the same time, the numbers are starting to go down because he bought you flowers, expensive jewelry, and more clothes all in one week. He also makes an effort to get to know your friends and interests. It's not like he didn't care much before, but he really likes to listen to your voice and hear you talk. He could do it for hours, falling asleep to it and waking up to it. Speaking of falling asleep, yes cuddling is involved in this relationship. He's lowkey a bad influence. You've gotten in trouble multiple times because you've asked to use the bathroom, using the hall pass as an excuse to roam around in the botanical gardens until you find him. He ALWAYS convinces you to stay with him and take a nap, resulting in you oversleeping and getting detention. But it's aight. Y'all are in detention together. In conclusion, mans is head over heels for you. Screw his head for this sudden vulnerability, and screw you for keeping him around, making him fall deeper everyday.

DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO GET THE FUCKING WEIRD SMALL TEXT WITH RANDOM BIG LETTERS GLITCH OFF IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT BUT ITS PISSING ME OFF -isa<3

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.�� Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

[accio-victuuri]

i’ve posted a couple of cpn incidents related to xz and wyb and their apple watch — so let’s add one more. i’m personally taking this as galaxy brain and the type of candy where we clown even more than usual. lol. i guess we are getting carried away with the airport couple wear which we found XZ using a new apple watch. there is some conversation whether this is new or just the strap is different — these freakin watches all look the same to me so let’s follow the cpn route.

then yibo flies to enjoy the french open and not even in a cpf perspective, but i noticed him frequently on his phone. seemingly messaging someone. i think we are all guilty of frequently checking our phone but i wanna say it’s not normal for him. was he “reporting” to xz? i’m cackling cause i remember wyb said before that he’s the type who won’t always report to his s/o where he is. even in airport photos, you can see him on it. and of course, he got his rolex and no apple watch.

what makes this funny is that cpfs were joking and betting on yibo switching to an apple watch ( a new one too allegedly ) when he goes home. and it happened. he was wearing one during his training with evisu racing. you could say it’s the best choice since he’s gonna be so active. but what we cpn is that he switched to match GG. and to make it more convenient for him to see messages without pulling out his phone when a certain chongqing 🌶️ is texting. and going by that fake rumor of them sending each other’s heartbeat using the watch, maybe it’s a way for xz to keep tabs on bobo’s health since he is doing such strenuous activity.

interpret this how you want. for me tho i’m more 👀 about how much they can look alike wearing casual clothes. also how much yibo seems to be on his phone and in my cpf mind it makes sense cause they only had very few days in Beijing before they had to be busy again. i wish they have more time to spend together and preferably abroad 😌😌😌

-END.

[etherfabric]

Messages for Reassurance + Songs

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

Knight of Cups, High Priestess

The hope inside of you is not delusion. You are safe to go after the things that seem promising and enriching. The days where you couldn't hear your gut well enough to listen to it are gone. Serendipities of various sizes permeate your day to day life, and it feels almost to good to be true. Did you really make it? Yes, dear. You did. You embraced your shadows enough to bask in the sun again.

Of course this is no utopia, and the frights of the past have sharpened your foresight to real possibilities, but believe yourself when you can't feel any danger closeby. You are stronger, smarter, and in better company than ever before. Now all there is left to do is putting some weight in those timid steps towards your bliss. Don't worry about tripping - you'll land on your foundation and get up again, eyes forward, one foot in front of the other. You will get there as soon as you fully arrive internally, and you are so close to completion already. You will see it once you believe it.

Pile 2

6 of Wands, The Hanged Man

You are exactly where you are supposed to be, in the exact context and circumstances you see at this very moment, inside and out. The conditions are perfect for you thrive in. You might have to get a little unorthodox in your approaches, and the shape of other people's successes sometimes clouds your inspiration, but let good be good enough for now. Think of past you - they prayed to have what you have now.

Okay, yes, they were a little misguided in a few details of their wishes (thankfully rejection is divine protection), and in thinking once you would be here, everything would be perfect - life is still life, you are still human - but the lessons that led you here widened your understanding of how everything had to happen this way. Guess what, future you will look back at this very moment with the exact same wisdom and compassion.

You can work with what you have at your disposal and rightfully expect the glory of tangible progress. Just keep doing what you are doing already, keep it simple and managable, and there will be nothing significant standing in your way. Those bouts of stagnation? That's where the depth of your skills comes from in the first place. Just like muscles, the soul and mind need their periods of liminal passivity to come back with full force to charge you ahead. You are on the right track. You are doing great. You can be proud of yourself.

Pile 3

Page of Swords, 10 of Wands

Oh dear. It's okay to say you are tired. It's okay to break apart. It's okay to hurt and just want to quit it all. Why are you carrying all this by yourself, tasks and thoughts alike? Don't you know the relief once you put them both down? For the thoughts: Speak, write, scream. To somebody, or nobody. The most important part is admitting it. Then at least you are freed of the burden to act like everything is fine. I know you are scared, I know you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place if you knew for sure you could let go. But I trust in the magic of coincidences, and you reading this right now tells me you need to stop swimming against the current and let the flow carry you downstream.

Stop clinging to things that only stay if you wreck yourself. The tide will wash them out of your hands anyway, because soon you will reach your body's limits, and then the decision will be made for you. Let the dam break. Let nature take its course. You are so smart and truly believed the best, I can see that, and it's no lack of character that caused things to go this way. But this wasn't meant for you. I know it hurts. I hurt with you. But once you stop fighting gravity, you will be drawn to what is truly for you. Put the burden down. I know you had the best intentions, but it's over. You can rest now.

Pile 4

9 of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

You already know this, but slow and steady does indeed win the race. Instead of doing a million things exhausting yourself, you are focusing on a handful of daily tasks, knowing they will lead you exactly where you want to be. Time and consistency are on your side. You know you don't have to be perfect and can always pick up where you left off. Appreciation from outside sources resonates with your own satisfaction about how things are playing out for you.

Your longterm goals seem closer than ever. You have your routine down pat, and trust in your ability of finding even better tweaks and spins for it in the future. This calm air of confidence looks so good on you! You have earned it. You can read the signs relative to your success, know which road to take, and which pitfalls to avoid. You feel incredibly rich and know how to pass the time until certain things come to fruition. It used to make you anxious when you were faced with slowpaced processes, and you fell back on less sustainable approaches to selfsoothe. Now you appreciate the journey itself, even welcome the delays, so you have ample time to smell the flowers on the side of the road.

[pseudophan]

As a former larrie let me tell you: larries don't think we're delusional at all lmao in fact they wish they had what we have: a chill fandom, dan and phil actually want to interact with us, healthy boundaries, i could keep going on tbh... Also the larry fandom changed so much during the pandemic lol all the big people left and now there's only weirdos on twitter who make crazy theories that wouldn't even make sense to the og larries and for what? To literally get called "crazy, lunatic larry fans" by louis tomlinson (yeah that happened... more than once). There's actually enough real evidence to think something happened between them but it got mixed up with the made up stuff and that's why people call that fandom delusional, but it wouldn't have gotten so much attention if it was all fake anyway sorry for the rant no one cares about larry anymore but i just wanted to say that no other fandom will EVER have what we have and that's why dnp are so special 😌

i understood like half of that but like rock on, i will always platform rpf. and yes it does also please me that out of perhaps the two biggest rpf ships of the time, phan and larry, phan came out on top. like the 14 year old in me is so pleased with that can i just say

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 5

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Here be smut. 😊 Light oral (m receiving), handjob, conversations about sex.

Word Count: 3,751

A/N: Here's Ch. 6. I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag List

Dean watched Y/N's chest rise and fall and felt the warm air escape from her slightly parted lips onto his shoulder where her head lay. Her lashes lay fanned against cheeks - cheeks that seemed pale, as though she wasn't getting enough rest. He let her sleep longer than he wanted; she seemed to need it and it allowed him time to study her features and imprint them in his memory. 

He'd be gone tomorrow, at noon. He had no idea when he would get back here. He never visited more than once a year at most. His family's business was very demanding and time consuming, and he needed to be in New York to run it. But as he brushed his finger down Y/N's cheek, he suddenly wished he could stay longer…much longer.

Or even better, he wished Y/N would reconsider his offer to be his mistress. Then he could come to see her several times a week, maybe more if she was amenable. He didn't want to upset her though, in their last hours together, so he decided to keep that hope to himself.

He was grateful, when she stirred and her eyes opened. There weren't many hours left.

She was clearly confused as she opened her eyes and didn't recognize where she was right away. When she looked at him though, he could see memory dawn, and chuckled at the predictable blush that bloomed in her cheeks.

She sat up slightly, pulling the sheet up higher to cover herself. "How long have I been sleeping? What time is it?"

"You've only been out about an hour. It's nearly two o'clock." He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

She ducked her head. "I should go. I shouldn't have stayed."

He ran his knuckles down her bare arm. "Is that what you really want?"

She looked up at him and hesitated before answering. "No, it isn't."

"What do you want?" He asked, desire flooding his gaze.

A million emotions crossed her face, too quick for him to read them properly.

"I have a question."

He nodded.

"How long does it take to know if I'll have a baby?"

Dean frowned. "What?"

"Well, I know women carry babies for 9 months, but how long before I can tell if I'm with child?"

Dean's frown deepened. "No time at all. I can tell you right now. You're not with child."

Her eyes widened. "How can you tell?" She looked down at herself, looking under the sheet at her stomach as though looking for a message there.

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Because we didn't do what we'd need to in order to make a baby."

Her head snapped up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

He took a deep breath. "Y/N, what do you think has to happen to make a baby?"

She blushed harder. "A man and woman take off their clothes and lay in bed and the man does something and hopefully a baby comes. At least, usually it's hopeful when the man and woman are married."

Dean put his hand to his mouth, and studied her. How had she gotten to the age of twenty-six without knowing the basic biological necessities of procreating?

Y/N turned to face him more fully. "So, do you mean, that what you did to me," her skin was on fire, "that wasn't the marriage act?"

"The what?"

"The marriage act. I only know a little from friends at school. That's what they said had to happen to make a baby, and Mrs. Oliver called it the marriage act. Is that not what it's called?"

Dean pushed a hand through his hair and tried not to laugh. "Well, we're not married, so it wouldn't make sense to call it that. But no, what we did was not the marriage act, and no babies will result from it."

Y/N looked distinctly relieved for a moment before looking puzzled again. "So, if we didn't participate in the marriage act, does that mean…am I still chaste?"

Dean didn't think chaste described her screaming release of an hour ago, but he didn't want to embarrass her, so he just nodded. "Yes, you remain a virgin. That's why I did it that way."

"There are other ways to do it?" The question seemed to pop out of Y/N's mouth before she could stop it because she clapped a hand over her mouth and ducked her head again. "I'm sorry, what a question to ask."

But Dean answered anyway. "Yes, there are many, many other ways of making love."

In spite of her fiery blush, Y/N asked, "Is that what you call it? Making love?"

"Well, there are a lot of other things it's called too, but that's one."

Y/N nodded and then grabbed hold of his hand.

"Dean, could you teach me about making love?" She must have been startled by the heat and desire he knew flooded his expression because she quickly amended her statement. "I mean, could you tell me about making love? I have no one else I could ever ask, and I'd like to know."

Dean had no idea what to say. He was quiet for a minute and Y/N shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's a horrible question to ask. I'm sorry."

"No, Y/N, don't be sorry. There's nothing to be sorry for, I just…" he paused for a moment, "…I've just never talked about it with a woman."

"So, you don't talk when you're making love." It was a statement and she sounded like she was taking notes.

"Well, I mean, yes, you talk, but not…" He shoved a hand through his hair. "…usually the conversation isn't so…it's just a different kind of talking."

Her expression was innocent and questioning and he cleared his throat, determined to answer the questions she had.

"Alright so, I don't know how well I'll be able to answer all your questions, but I'll try. Go ahead." He braced himself.

Only two bright patches of red showed in her cheeks when she asked again, "How are babies made?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Well, men have a…" he cleared his throat and started over. "Women have…" he raked his hand through his hair again. This was a very strange conversation to be having. He realized he needed more information.

"Y/N, what do you know? I mean do you know what a man looks like?" he asked. "I mean, the parts you don't usually see." He amended.

She gestured to his torso. "Just what's in front of me." She said, smiling shyly.

"So, you've never seen a naked man, not even in a painting? Or a sculpture?"

She looked away, and gave a small shrug. "There weren't a lot of paintings or sculptures like that at my school."

He grinned. "I guess not. But since you've been out of school?"

She looked at him again. "I haven't exactly gone looking for them."

He chuckled. "Fair enough."

Her face brightened. "Oh, I did see a painting of a naked cherub once."

Dean couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. She smiled and looked sheepish.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, really. I just can't imagine many men would want a woman to believe they resembled a naked cherub."

She rewarded him with one of her adorable wide grins. "No, I imagine not." She reached up and ran a hand from his shoulder down to his elbow, her grin melting away into a look of hunger. "And I can't imagine anything that looks less like a cherub."

She studied his body for a moment and her gaze alone made his already hard cock feel close to bursting. She pulled her hand away and tucked the sheet more firmly around her. Dean tried to force his body under control.

"So," she said, trying to bring them back on track, "you were saying?"

"Right." He cleared his throat. It seemed very dry all of a sudden. "So, men have a…uh…a kind of…um…" He looked at her face, and came up with the best word he could to describe it. "They have a shaft."

Y/N's face was quizzical. He continued. "And women have…well, I mean you know what your own body looks like." Her face looked confused now. "I mean, you know what…I mean, surely you've looked at yourself."

Comprehension flooded her expression along with a lot of embarrassment. "No, of course not. I mean, not really." She was acutely embarrassed and she wouldn't look him in the eye. "I mean, of course I've never looked, it's…well, it's sinful!" She exclaimed, as though he was mad for not realizing that.

It made him very sad to hear her say such a thing and he took her chin in his hand to force her to focus on him. "Y/N, it's your own body. It is literally the body God created for you, how on earth could it be sinful to look at it?"

While she tried to absorb his words, he decided to just tell her straight. "So, men have a shaft and women have an opening into their body. It's the opening that babies come out of," he paused, "and I suppose the opening where they're put in as well. Men have a um…a seed that comes from their shaft and they put their shaft into the woman's body and plant their seed. A baby grows from there."

He wasn't sure that was the best explanation, especially because Y/N looked slightly horrified.

She opened and closed her mouth several times before managing to speak. "So, if I want a baby, I have to let a man stick a shaft into a hole in my body." Her face was scrunched up and full of disgust. He had to admit that when it was summed up that way it did not sound very pleasant. He decided that if he didn't want to leave her completely terrified he should clarify things a little.

"I know it sounds very…mechanical and cold, but it's not when it's happening." He moved closer to her on the bed and cupped her cheek. "It's just like earlier, when I touched you and tasted you, it's the same kind of heat." He bent his head and kissed her slow, and sweet. She responded immediately, trying to deepen the kiss. But he pulled away; he wasn't trying to start her desire up all over again. "See, not cold or mechanical."

She raised a hand to her mouth and shook her head, a little sadly he thought. "No, not cold." She smiled softly.

She looked into his eyes. "Can I…" she paused for a moment. "Could I see it? See you, I mean?"

His blood started pumping overtime and he shifted away from her again. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Her face was suddenly flooded with red and she shook her head quickly. "No, of course not. I'm sorry, Dean. What a horrible thing to ask for, I'm…sorry…" she trailed off in embarrassment and Dean wanted to kick himself.

He grabbed her hand with both of his and brought it to his chest. "Please look at me." When she did, he continued, "You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N. When it is me and you, together like this, I promise you that there is nothing you could ask, nothing you could ask for, and nothing you could tell me that is wrong, or sinful, or terrible. The space between us here," he pressed his hand to the sheet that covered her chest before bringing his hand back to press against his own chest. "…this space is sacred. It's magic. There's nothing that can't be said."

She blushed but she nodded. "Alright."

Suddenly her expression became quizzical, and she was staring at his pants. "Why aren't you naked? You kept your pants on. You said not to hide, but you're hiding. Why?"

He sighed and chuckled lightly. He let go of her hand. "For the same reason I said that it wasn't a good idea for you to…look at me. Because I'm doing everything I can to control myself, and that might be too much."

"Control yourself?"

"It's better if I have a kind of barrier between me and you. My…um…shaft…" he shook his head over the absurdity of this conversation and the fact that it was making him so incredibly hard. "Let's just say it's very sensitive."

Y/N thought about his words for a moment. "So, you're still aching. You didn't…come apart, like me?"

Her expression was worried and she bit her bottom lip, a gesture that made him think his pants might not actually make much of a difference for very long.

"No, I didn't." He said succinctly.

"Well, that hardly seems fair."

He smiled a strained smile. "It's fine. I'm fine."

She frowned at him. "So, you don't…I see…you don't ache for me the way I ache for you. It's different? Like the difference between me kissing you and you kissing me? You don't need me to fix it for you?"

She looked sad and Dean swore softly. "Y/N, you have no idea how much I ache, how desperate I am to have you touch me, kiss me, fix me. But I'm trying to abide by your wishes. I'm trying to keep you a virgin, and there's only so much torment a man can take. If you look at me and touch me, I'm going to spill my seed, and I am trying to spare you that."

She looked like she was trying to work something out. "And if you spill your seed, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore and I might have a baby?"

He took a deep breath and swallowed. "No, only if I was inside you." With every word of this conversation, his pants felt tighter, and he felt closer to bursting.

Y/N shrugged. "Then why can't I help you feel better, the way you helped me?"

Dean tried to come up with an explanation, but all he could manage was to shake his head as his body screamed for release.

Y/N moved closer to him and reached for the button on his pants. He grabbed her wrist quickly to stop her. They sat like that a moment, before Y/N whispered. "Don't hide yourself from me."

Her words and the look of desire and heat that flooded her gaze tore down the last of Dean's control, and he sagged back against the pillows, dropping her wrist.

She shifted so that she was sitting on her knees beside him and reached for his top button again. She undid it and pulled down his pants and underwear at once. He lifted his hips to help her and soon his cock was springing free of the confinement that had tortured him for hours.

Y/N gasped and sat back on her heels. She stared with wide eyes before blurting. "That's supposed to fit inside me? It's too big!"

Dean groaned and laughed at the same time, so it sounded a little like he was coughing. "Damn, you do wonders for a man's confidence." He grinned at her wickedly. "But trust me, it fits."

She stared at him a while longer before leaning forward again and reaching to run her fingers through the line of hair on his stomach. Unlike the last time, he didn't stop her, allowing himself to revel in the sweet torment.

He watched her reach out her hand timidly and touch the head of his shaft with a fingertip. He sucked in a breath from the jolt of fire her touch brought. She pulled back, and looked into his face. "I'm sorry! Did that hurt?"

He shook his head and his voice was very strained. "No, but yes. Sorry that doesn't make sense."

But Y/N nodded and her smile was a little naughty. "Yes, it does. It might not have a couple of hours ago, but it does now. Do you want me to continue?" She seemed to be asking a question to which she already knew the answer.

Y/N looked at Dean, his face taut, his muscles tense, and she knew two things; this was the most beautiful man she would ever see, and she had the power to bring Dean the same kind of fiery torment and blissful release he'd given her.

She reached out to stroke him again.

His hands balled into fists and a guttural sound issued from his lips.

She leaned down and placed a kiss on the very tip of his shaft. His body shuddered and a tiny amount of liquid seeped from the end. She rubbed the liquid into his skin with her forefinger. "Is this your seed?" she asked, still interested in learning. Dean only grunted, but she took it as an affirmative.

She continued to run her fingers up and down the silky smooth skin that covered the ramrod hardness under her hand. Dean's breath came hard and fast. She was having fun exploring, placing a kiss here and there along the length. 

After a few minutes, Dean pushed himself up on his one elbow, moving so that he laid sideways. He took hold of Y/N's hand and showed her how to wrap it around his shaft and move it up and down. Gently at first, and harder and faster as the heat and fire in his gaze built and built. She knew he must be getting close because his body was bucking under her hand just as hers had, instinctively thrusting. The action made something primal in her begin to ache again.

Finally she saw white liquid begin to spurt out of his body before he rolled himself into the sheet and buried his ragged shout into the pillow.

As his body continued to spasm, she ran her hand up and down his hip and over his backside which was round and firm. After his breathing returned to something resembling normal, he rolled onto his back again and Y/N took the chance to lie down across his chest. Her sheet was long gone, but she didn't care. She simply allowed herself to enjoy the amazing feeling of Dean's warm, smooth skin against her own.

She laid her hands on top of each other in the middle of his chest and propped her chin on them, so she could see his face. His eyes were closed and his face was completely relaxed. She drank up the sight of him like this.

He opened his eyes and she stared, drowning in his mossy green eyes. It suddenly occurred to her that this may be one of the last times she would ever look into his magnificent eyes and she felt tears spring up.

Dean frowned and caught a tear on his thumb as it fell. "Hey, what is this?"

She shook her head and smiled slightly. "Oh, it's nothing. I just wish I hadn't waited so long to do this. We could have days. Now we have only hours." She looked at the clock on his bedside. "And not many of those. You're leaving in less than eight hours, and I have to leave your room very soon."

Dean stared at her for a long time before speaking. "Y/N, the last thing I want to do is upset you or make you angry again. But…" he hesitated and in his hesitation, Y/N knew what he was going to say. "Come with me."

Y/N wasn’t insulted this time, and she wasn’t angry, because she knew now how desperately she wanted to do it. She knew what he was really asking of her. He wasn't trying to defile her or make her into something dirty. He was asking her to come and spend the nights with him like this. And she'd spend time with him, letting his sharp, and occasionally silly humor fill her days, she'd go out to parties with him, let him spoil her with jewels and expensive things.

She wanted so badly to say yes. But into the beautiful pictures in her imagination came the blinding knowledge that she'd have to say goodbye to all her other dreams.

She'd never find a compatible husband, or live in a pretty, respectable little cottage, and she'd never have children. She would never allow children to live the shame of her choices. She knew just how it felt to be ostracized and stared at as though you were vermin. She could never put a child through that.

She sat up and pulled the sheet around her again, moving to the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I just can't."

He sighed. "Why not?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and decided she could give him the truth, plain and simple. "My mother was a kept woman, and I've spent my life trying not to repeat her mistakes, trying to pull myself as far away from her life as possible. I can't simply ignore a lifetime of dreams and hopes."

Dean looked like he wanted to argue and tried to start a sentence several times. But finally he sighed deeply and fell back onto the pillows.

"Fine. I understand."

Tears came again and Y/N knew she had to go now or she might never leave his bed. She got up and picked her nightgown up off the floor.

Dean sat up again. "Wait, why are you leaving now? We have at least another hour before you need to sneak back."

He grabbed her hand as her head emerged from her nightgown and it fell to cover her completely. "Don't go yet."

But she shook her head. "I can't Dean, I…" she swallowed. "If I'm ever going to leave, I have to leave now."

She pulled out his grasp and moved toward the door. Dean pulled his pants up over his hips and followed her. As she reached the door she turned back and smiled at him, tears still falling.

She reached up, placing her palm against his cheek. He took in a quick breath and raised his chin. She felt a muscle jumping in his jaw.

"Thank you, Dean."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You're welcome, Y/N."

She took one long last look into his eyes before she ran out the door, terrified of what she was leaving behind with him.

Tag Lists:

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There Chapter: Twenty-Five

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Taglist: @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @to-be-written @concretenoah @thebadchic @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12 @missduffsblog @jilliemiw86 @malerieee @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @badomenslrh @robabankfuckmickeymouse @darknightstarryeyes @xxkittenkissesxx @mitchhbitch @sorrowsofsilence @blackveilomens

note: I'm sorry I've been gone for so long! I took a much needed writing break but am excited to get back into a schedule. I can't guarantee when I'll upload but I'm sure it won't be another 3 months between updates...lol sorry again.

“Oh shit!” Noah squeals as his roller-blades skitter back and forth trying to catch his balance as Erin circles the two of us as we stake alongside her. I’ve taken her skating several times and have figured out how to remain upright, although I’m no expert I can keep up with the other roller moms. Noah on the other hand is like an unsteady infant taking his first steps. Before he falls on his ass again he reaches out and grabs onto me in an attempt to remain standing. 

“Ah! No, don't! Noah!” I cry out as I lose my balance and my stakes fly out from under me and we both fall onto a heap on the floor. I end up on my back with Noah looming over me having caught himself with his hands before crushing me completely. He’s close enough that the short hair that falls in front of his face tickles my forehead. 

“Oh, sorry” he says and his breath caresses my cheek. My voice is caught in my throat. I know there is a blush creeping up my neck but I ignore it as we shuffle to get back onto our feet. Sliding and clinging onto the side of the rink to remain upright. 

Laughing loudly he looks at me with a smile that takes up half of his face, “guess I’m in need of practice.” I return a small laugh and nod in agreement. 

Erin continues to circle us with a quizzical look on her face, “y’all are funny. Let's go! A few more turns and then can we go get ice cream?!” Giggling she rushes off as we slowly follow with Noah refusing to let go of my hand.

“Sorry, I really don’t want to bust my ass again.” Squeezing his hand in encouragement we continue forward after our daughter. “No worries Noah, I’ll catch you if you fall again.” 

Noah’s POV

I almost stumble again at her words. She's using the same words I wrote for her all those years ago back at me. Does she even realize what she said? Probably not. Maybe? I shake it off for now as she pulls me forward. 

We go around the skating rink hand in hand and I selfishly hold as tight as I can, only letting go once we’ve exited the rink and sat down to take off our stakes. 

“So what's good for ice cream around here?” I ask while we turn in our stakes before we head out the door into the hot summer air. “I like Amy's! They have lots of yummy flavors!” Erin cheers. She’s walking between us, holding both of our hands. I was shocked at first when she grabbed my hand but it filled my heart with so much joy—more than I ever thought possible. 

“What do you like to get at Amy’s Erin?” I asked while seated in the passenger seat of the car. “Hmmm I like getting sweet cream with Oreos and rainbow sprinkles! It’s sooo good!”

Her excitement is contagious as Natalie’s smile is also spread wide across her face as she listens to Erin. “What about you Nat? What’s your favorite?” I turn my gaze to her and the summer heat has given her a glowy sheen of sweat on her cheeks causing her blush to shine.

She looks so beautiful. I want to kiss her. I wish I could.

“I like to get the Mexican vanilla with strawberries and chocolate chips, I think you’ll like their stuff. Lots of choices.” 

I turn up the radio and Erin squeals with joy! “This was in the movie Aunt Hales and I watched!” 

“Reaching for something in the distance..” 

Natalie sings along with her, “so close you can almost taste it release your inhibitions.”

The song is too good not to sing along, so as we drive to get ice cream, I find myself singing along as well.

“Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you! Only you can let it in..”

Did I think six months ago I would be singing Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield in the car with my daughter and the girl I've always loved? Not at all, but this is something I wouldn’t trade for anything.  I won’t let her get away this time, I’m just going to have to play the long game and hopefully, she will trust me with her heart again. 

Hours later, after some amazing ice cream Natalie and Erin are dropping me off at my Airbnb. I chose something that wasn’t too far from their house and there’s a pool. Erin was excited about that. She was running from room to room looking at all of the spaces.

“I got this place because it has lots of room, so if Erin ever wanted to spend the night she would have her own space,” I say to Natalie. She smiles softly, “she’d love that Noah. Maybe when she gets back from art camp?” she responds.

“And of course you two can come over and use the pool whenever, even next week Erins at camp? You could come over and hang out? The other guys will be here Thursday” I ask nervously. God, why am I so nervous, I’ve known Nat for years. It’s not weird to ask her to hang out…right?

“I would love that, I’m free on Wednesday?” She says looking out at the yard as Erin runs in the grass next to the water. 

So she knows the guys won’t be here until Thursday but wants to come over on Wednesday.. that’s good? right? Stop reading into it man, just live.

“Wednesday is amazing, I’ll grab snacks.” god I sound pathetic. 

She giggles while we watch Erin take off doing cartwheels now, “she is an endless stream of energy.” she comments quietly. “She really is, I’d like some of that. I’m exhausted.” 

Natalie’s energy shifts slightly, “oh you’re right. You’ve been on the move all day. We should get out of your hair so you can relax.” 

“Oh- no that’s-” I try to catch her but she’s already at the backdoor quietly calling for Erin to head home.  Why did I say that?…idiot. 

“Noah! This house is awesome!! I can’t wait to come over this summer! After my camp next week I’m totally coming over to swim!” she says as she runs up to give her a goodbye hug. 

I return the hug, wrapping her tight in my arms. “Can’t wait for it kiddo, I’ll grab some floats this weekend. It’ll be a fun summer for sure.” I say looking up to see Natalie snapping what I’m sure she was hoping was an incognito photo. “Send that to me please?”

She nods and they move to exit, “Nat, wait.” I reach and softly grab her arm, pulling her quickly into a hug. “I’ll see you later, I had fun today.” 

“I had fun too Noah.” her hands squeeze my sides briefly before she releases and they head to their car. They pull out of the driveway and a thought hits me.

I rush to my guitar and sit down to get the idea out while it’s fresh in my head. 

I can wait for you at the bottom I can stay away if you want me to I can wait for years if I gotta Heaven knows I ain’t getting over you Can we try again? When we’re not so different Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?

I jot down the slightly altered lyrics on a random scrap of paper I see in my guitar case and shut it. 

I finish unpacking and jump into the shower to rinse off. I hop out at the exact time I see my phone ringing, Erin is calling. 

“Hey, kiddo! What’s up?”

“Hey, Noah! I was wondering if you would come with us on Sunday to drop me off at camp. It’s a couple of hours away though so if you have plans I understand.” 

“I don’t have anything going on, I’d love to tag along.” 

“MOM! HE SAID YES! - sweetheart I thought we agreed we’d call tomorrow? Noah’s had a long day - I was too excited…I’m sorry Noah.” 

“Hey, it’s no worries kiddo! You can call me whenever you need too.”

“Mom?! Did you hear that? Noah said it’s okay!”

I hear Natty’s laugh on the other end of the phone and it kills me that we’re not just all together laughing. Lately that’s all I can think about. All I want. 

“Well I am supposed to look at what clothes I’m packing for camp right now but I’ll see you on Sunday!” 

“I’ll see you Sunday kiddo.” 

Natalie POV

“So is it like a date?” Haylie asks. Were sitting on her bed later that night after having packed Erin’s camp bag and her going to bed. 

“It’s not a date! It’s swimming. We’re just two old friends hanging out.” the moment the words are out of my mouth I know it’s bullshit. I don’t know if it will ever feel like just two old friends with Noah. 

“I’d argue with you but I know you don’t even believe what you just said so it’s pretty pointless.” I throw my head back onto the pillows and sigh in defeat.

“I wish I believed it. I wish I could just be normal around him. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again…do I remember everything bad that happened? Of course..but I also remember all of the good things..ugh! Why are feelings so complicated?! Like am I a horrible person with no backbone if I forgive him for everything and just let him back into my life like no time has passed? Or am I a bitch if I keep him at arm’s length for the rest of our lives despite my feelings for him because of mistakes we made as kids?” 

I feel the bed dip down as Haylie sits down next to me. “Unfortunately I don’t have the answer for you, but I know you are not a horrible person or a bitch. Life is complicated and confusing and all you can do is consider what is best for you and Erin. I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do…but what I will say is that since you two started talking again…you’ve been different. Happier than I’ve seen you in a long time.” 

She’s right. I’ve felt happier than I have in years since I reconnected with Noah. That has to mean something. 

Maybe it’s time to just let myself be open to what could happen.

Could we even have anything like that again? 

Under the same Texas moon, two lonely hearts thought in tandem if the other may be open to loving them again.

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 1

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | In progress

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

“Tell me again how it happened.”

It’s a standoff in the kitchen. Ellie’s face, flushed and furious, twists in a pout. Joel grips the back of a dining chair with one tight fist.

One week. It’s been one fucking week since school started, and Ellie has already come home with the pink slip of all pink slips.

“She tried to take my pen. Twice.”

“And?”

“So I…I took my knife out…”

“Uh-huh.”

 “...and I stabbed it into her desk…”

Joel winces.

“...and I told her if she tried that shit again I’d do the same to her fucking finger.”

“Ellie–”

“It’s not my fucking fault no one taught her to keep her hands to herself!”

“I know, and she–she shouldn’t have done that, Ellie, but you can’t just–”

“It’s not like I actually stabbed someone, Joel!”

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, kid. You can’t–you can’t do that shit here. This ain’t FEDRA. There’s no hole. Keep it up and they’re liable to put us outside the damn wall.”

“Tommy wouldn’t–“

“He doesn’t run this place. An’ Maria’s already on my ass about…everythin’.”

“Maybe we should leave, then,” she huffs.

“You don’t mean that.”

“We made out okay. We could do it again.”

“Ellie,” his voice softens. He draws his palms down his face. The start of a headache pulses behind his eyes. “Look, I know it’s…different. But we’re here now. We gotta make do.”

Four months in Jackson. Four months since he shot his way out of a hospital in Salt Lake City and carried the unconscious girl to safety. Four months since she asked for the truth and he told her the whopper of all lies instead.

When he thinks about it that way, things are going about as well as he has any right to expect.

He’d hoped going to school would give her some structure, that she’d make a few friends, but so far, every morning has been a trudge, every night a standoff. When she’s not clinging to his side like a lost lamb or waking from nightmares to crawl into his bed, she’s hurling sharp words and slamming doors and stomping around.

Months on the road together, but he’s never seen her so goddamn bratty.

He’s taking a lot of deep breaths. He’s counting to ten. He’s trying not to see the judgmental frowns from his sister-in-law when Ellie storms out of a family gathering or calls him an asshole at the caf in front of the whole fuckin’ town.

She’s never had the space to act out, he reminds himself. She’s never been fed enough, warm enough, safe enough, loved enough, and he gets the brunt of her anger. The way Sarah would come home after a long day at school and turn into a grouchy wildebeest for him after being an angel for her teachers.

It’s normal, he tells himself on the worst nights. Ellie’s making up for fourteen years of repression.

But he’s tired and she’s strumming his last nerve like it’s a fuckin’ guitar.

She’s holding out another note, this one hand-written and co-signed by members of the council. He notes Maria’s signature at the top with some disdain.

“Counseling,” Joel sighs, skimming it. “Mandated. Twelve weeks.”

“You’re not really gonna make me go, are you? C’mon, man, it’s a death sentence!”

“Hardly. You’re lucky they didn’t suspend you.”

“I wish they had. Then I wouldn’t have to go to that stupid fucking school.”

“Ellie–”

“I hate it here,” she spits out. Her lower lip trembles and he has to look away, eking out a tight breath.

“Yeah, kid. I know. But you gotta give it a chance.”

“I did, and it sucks.”

“You’re not giv–”

“Going to my room,” she huffs, already moving for the stairs. 

“You need to eat first,” he says, gritting his teeth when she rolls her eyes. “And you’re grounded.”

Those words have never come out of his mouth. He doesn’t even know what being grounded looks like in this day and age.

“What?! Joel–”

“You heard me,” he says, making it up as he goes. “Two weeks. You’re back here every night after your assignments. No wanderin’ around with your friends.”

“Lucky for me I don’t have any fucking friends.”

“That ain’t–“

“This is bullshit,” she seethes, then turns on her heel and stomps up the stairs.

“Damnit, Ellie, you need to eat–”

“I’m not hungry!”

The door at the top of the stairs slams shut, ending the conversation and leaving Joel to collapse into a chair with his face in his hands.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself. “Yeah, this is bullshit.”

~*~

One week later she’s sulking over breakfast at the house.

“The guy wants to talk to you,” she says through a mouthful of eggs.

“‘The guy’? And close your mouth when you chew.”

Ellie wrinkles her nose, opening her mouth wide to show him her half-chewed breakfast, a move that’s painfully reminiscent of a different time, a different kid.

“I told you at dinner. The counselor guy.”

He frowns. “It’s a guy?”

She rolls her eyes. “And women can even be doctors! Dude, you are so old .”

“S’not what I meant, smartass,” he mutters. “I just…I know you’ve had some, uh…issues with…guys.”

Since Silver Lake , he doesn’t say.

“Only the creepy ones,” she says, stabbing a piece of potato. “Ezra’s not creepy. He’s, like, cool. He has a huge record collection.”

“Uh-huh. An’ he needs to see me why?”

“I don’t fucking know, dude. Unlike you, I didn’t give him the third degree.”

He bites his tongue. “Alright. When?”

“Before school. Today.”

Joel looks at the clock, then back at Ellie. 7:50 .

“So we need to go…right now,” he mutters, draining his coffee and gathering his dishes to put them in the sink. “Thanks for the notice.”

“I told you last night! Not my fault you’re deaf.”

Admittedly, she’d talked a lot at dinner last night. Mostly about how some kid named Dina was a jerk who deserved to have her finger taken off for being a ‘fucking klepto’ with her pen. But he’d been so tired and the headache behind his eyes won’t give him a rest.

“Alright, let’s go,” he sighs. “Don’t forget your bag.”

They step out into the streets of Jackson on a mild September morning. It’s the rush hour–if a town of a few hundred can be said to have a rush hour–with shift changes on the wall and everyone off to their assigned duties. They pass familiar faces; neighbors Joel still doesn’t have names for, kids he recognizes from Ellie’s school who give them a wide berth. Joel hunches inward, following the maroon cast of her sweatshirt through clusters of Jackson residents.

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” she says out of the blue.

“You know I do,” he frowns.

“No duh. But you don’t have another brother, right?”

“Not that I’m aware of, kid.”

“Like, what if your dad had a secret family–”

“Christ, where do you come up with this stuff?”

“C’mon, it can happen! I just–I wondered–”

“What the heck are you gettin' at, kid? Spit it out.”

“It’s nothin’,” she says, but there’s a weird little smile on her face. “You’ll see.” 

She leads him to the little house at the other end of town and knocks on the blue door. Ellie keeps looking up at him with the same funny smirk.

A dark-eyed man answers, peering through the screen. Dark, fitted T-shirt, slim black jeans. Younger than Joel by at least ten years, probably more, with a wide smile and messy black-brown curls with an odd streak of white at his temple.

He looks like a fuckin’ punk.

“Hi, Ezra,” Ellie says breezily. “This is Joel.”

“Hello, young prodigy,” he smiles, drawling in a southern accent that Joel can’t quite place. “Come in, come in both of you…join me in my humble abode.”

He leads them inside and to the right, to a little den just off the entry. It’s a snug office with a couch and chair, a coffee table in the center, and bookshelves lining the walls on either side. A record player sits on a podium in one corner.

Joel puts out his hand, realizing too late the other man isn’t able to reciprocate, lacking an arm with which to do so. Ellie watches with a smug smirk, lips twitching a little as Joel drops his right hand and fumbles through a handshake with his left. He shoots her a glare.

Couldn’t have mentioned that?

She shrugs, feigning a wide-eyed innocence, then looks between the two men with a kind of manic glee, as if waiting for something.

“...what?” Joel finally asks.

“You don’t see it?” She gestures to the other man.

“I don’t–”

“Jeez, I know you’re deaf but I didn’t think you were blind, too,” she groans. “He looks like you! If you weren’t, like, ancient.”

Joel’s face flushes as Ezra tries to hide a smile behind his hand.

“Enough of that, you little shi–smartypants,” Joel mutters.

“I suspect your young prodigy here gets the sense we might be of blood relation based on a similar, uh, distinguished profile.”

“That’s not, uh…that’s not possible, kid.”

“I agree,” Ezra says smoothly. “The universe is rife with serendipitous occurrences, and I do believe that’s what we have here. The mind is a funny thing. We see what we want to see, Ellie.”

“Seriously?!”

“Your dad here–”

“He’s not my dad,” Ellie corrects automatically. Joel can’t help but feel a pang of indignation at the speed with which she pipes up.

“My apologies,” Ezra murmurs. “I stand corrected. This is your…?”

“He’s just Joel.”

“Of course, gem. Just Joel,” Ezra smiles in his direction. “So I asked your Joel here to ensure you understood what we’re doing. As your guardian, Joel needs to be an integral part of this process.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that–what exactly are we doin’ again?” Joel asks.

“I suspect your young prodigy here is finding the adjustment to life in Jackson a bit…finicky. I’m here to help ease that transition in whatever way I can.”

“You can start by telling the other kids to stop fucking touching my stuff,” Ellie adds.

“Christ, Ellie–”

Ezra holds up his hand, cutting off Joel’s growl and addressing the girl. “Let’s not get weighted down by the minutiae of the situation we find ourselves in, gem. Suffice it to say, we have some work to do, and we need to do it cooperatively.”

Ellie crosses her arms and huffs, but Ezra’s easy manner seems to soothe something in the girl.

“Now that you’ve delivered your…Joel…to me, he and I are going to have a little tête-à-tête . Nothing damning, just the facts. And you, if I’m not mistaken, will be late to school.”

He leans down to scribble something on a notepad, then hands it to Ellie. “Give this to your teacher.”

“You go straight to school an’ home after chores,” Joel adds, watching the late slip disappear into the pocket of Ellie’s jeans. “You’re still grounded, ‘member?”

“Like you’d let me forget,” she mutters, trudging out the door, leaving it cracked slightly.

They hear the front door open and shut, but Ezra holds up one finger, watching the entry with sly eyes.

Wait.

Joel catches his drift.

“Ellie,” he says.

“Aw, c’mon, man,” she grumbles from the entry. “If you’re gonna talk about me, I should get to hear it.”

“We’re not going to talk about you, gem,” Ezra says. “But this is a private conversation between your esteemed guardian and myself. Please give us your discretion and make haste.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Ezra goes to the office door and gently shuts it. Suddenly closed in the small room with a stranger, Joel feels a familiar but unwelcome prickle of fear take root. It’s the same feeling that has him sleeping with a gun under his mattress and locking his door at night, despite Tommy’s assurances that Jackson is safe as houses.

Without thinking, he reaches for his holster–the holster that isn’t there, because he doesn’t wear it unless he’s on patrol, because Jackson is a community and not the fucking QZ. It’s a subtle tic, but Ezra notices.

“We can open it if you’d prefer to partake of the fresh air.”

Joel swallows his fear with a dollop of shame. “S’fine.”

Ezra nods. “Have a seat if you like.”

He takes the chair across the small room, considering Joel through thick lashes. His face is kind, but something about the man’s gaze leaves Joel uneasy, like a bug under a magnifying glass. There’s a warm, simmering coil of tension in his gut that he can’t place.

Indigestion , Joel decides. Too much coffee.

He settles on the couch, old cushions and springs protesting, then leans forward on his knees, glancing around.

“You, uh…you like music?” he says, gesturing to the shelves of vinyl just behind Ezra.

“I do,” he says. “I was fortunate to find this sizable collection in the attic upon being assigned a house. I’ve added to it as I find new treasures to trade. And you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you enjoy music, Joel?”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” he says, rubbing at his lips self-consciously. “Play a little here and there. Guitar.”

Ezra’s face lights up. “Ah! A musician!”

“Hardly.”

“Speaking as one who can’t carry a tune in a bucket, color me impressed.”

The office window is wide open, a cool autumn breeze floating through and rifling the other man’s already unruly hair, but a deep heat has settled at the base of Joel’s neck and the room suddenly feels like a hot summer’s day.

He clears his throat. “So, uh…Ellie says you’re a counselor?”

“Indeed.”

“An’ you have, uh, qualifications? Somethin’ that says you’re the man for the job?”

Ezra grins at this. “I know I don’t look the part of the sage, and I can appreciate your frank concern. I do have some experience in this area, surprising as that may be. Before the outbreak, I was a Master’s student in clinical psychology. Although I didn’t get much opportunity to practice for reasons that should be quite obvious.”

“Right.”

“The fine folks of Jackson have been kind enough to give me a place and a profession that suits my abilities. I’m not much use drawing a plow or riding a horse, I’m afraid,” Ezra continues, nodding to his right shoulder.

“But before we proceed, I should like to understand your expectations and to set a few of my own. For one, I’m not here to play Freud. And I’m hardly qualified to make a diagnosis of any sort,” he continues. “A diagnosis isn’t worth a damn in this day and age, and I suspect you’d agree.”

Joel bites his lip. “Look, uh, I’ll be honest. Last time I set foot in a place like this, it did jack shit and ended in a divorce. So you’ll forgive me if I ain’t entirely comfortable with my…with Ellie…comin’ in here and talkin’ your ear off.”

“Trust that you are not the first to express concern or have a, let’s say, downright suspicious quality about this particular practice. But I hope you’ll humor me when I say that I, like you, only want what is best for Ellie. She’s a bright girl, that one. Very perceptive.”

Joel huffs softly. “Too damn smart for her own good sometimes.”

This elicits a tiny smile, leaving Joel worried he’s spoken too harshly.

“But she’s a good kid,” he adds quickly. “A really…good kid.”

Ezra nods. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but I think she could benefit from the ear of a friend. As I said, she’s bright. I wanted to try to get a clearer picture of her through your eyes. Your family dynamic, if you will. I take it there’s no Mrs. Joel? Or…Mr. Joel?”

Joel snorts. “Just me an’ her.”

“And she’s adopted?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel murmurs, scratching his chin. “We, uh…I had a job to move her out here. From Boston. Was supposed to find, uh…her relatives…but that didn’t work out and my brother, Tommy, gave us a place here.”

Ezra nods but doesn’t say anything further. He sprawls in the chair, legs spread, almost slouched, one forearm draped over the side. Relaxed but intent, eyebrows drawn together with an unspoken question. Joel swallows, finding his mouth suddenly dry.

“You, uh, need to write this down or anythin’?” Joel coughs, gesturing to the notepad on the coffee table in front of them.

Ezra shakes his head, smiling slightly. “No…no, we’re just having a conversation. No need to put it on the record for now. So…Boston to Jackson. That must have been quite the excursion.”

“You could say that.”

“I expect it wasn’t exactly uneventful?”

“No,” Joel says, almost too quickly. “No, it was, uh…she went through a lot. Stuff no kid should have to see…to do. You’ll have to ask her about it, though. S’not my place to talk for her.”

“I intend to do that,” Ezra nods. “I look forward to getting to know her over the next twelve weeks. And hopefully beyond, if she’ll give me the chance.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Joel mutters. “She’s a bit…gunshy. Especially around, uh, men. Even Tommy…she can’t be alone with him, an’ he’s about as tame as they come.”

“But she feels safe with you?”

“Think so. I mean, I’m all she had for months…out there,” he shrugs. “But that went both ways. We’re prob’ly what you shrinks call, uh…codependent.”

Ezra nods, voice softening. “A little codependency can mean the difference between life or death in a difficult time. And I imagine it’s been an adjustment…all this. I know we–I–found it difficult at first. Even the thickest of walls aren’t enough if we don’t feel truly safe in the heart and mind.”

Joel bites his lip. “Yeah…yeah. It’s different.”

“And how about you, Joel?”

“How ‘bout me what?”

“You’ve been through a similar ordeal, I presume, traveling together. And now you find yourself the unexpected father figure to a dynamic and spirited young lady–”

Joel bites back a scoff. “This ain’t about me.”

Ezra shrugs. “I don’t mean to pry, and you’re free to pass on anything you don’t feel comfortable answering, of course. I’m just trying to build a picture in the interest of aiding my work with Ellie.”

The temptation to pass is strong, but that heat in his gut is still there, a distraction loosening his tongue. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s, uh…it’s been a lot. For both of us, but mostly her,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She’s not used to havin’ someone in her corner. She’s…she was an orphan…before.”

He sighs, allowing himself to sink back into the couch cushions, shoulders loosening a fraction.

“I told her not to bring that damn knife to school in the first place,” he says, glancing down at his broken watch. “But she needed it when we were on the road. She’s prob’ly needed it all her damn life. Seems wrong to ask her to give that up when we’ve only been here a few months. Not that she’s s’posed to be waving it around at folks, or…y’know.”

“Mmm,” he says. “Well, I don’t intend to lay blame here. Raising a child…alone…comes with its fair share of hardships and trials. Regardless, it’s a noble endeavor, to take one into your care.”

He snorts. “Think she’s done more to take care of me than the other way around.”

“If I may be so bold…I suspect you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you,” Joel says drily. “Kid’s not one to hold back.”

Ezra grins. “I sensed as much.”

He stands, offering his hand, and Joel takes it. The man’s grip is firm and warm and the memory of his touch lingers on Joel’s skin long after he’s left. That warm flare in his gut throbs, a not-unpleasant heat licking gently at the base of his spine, and he finally places it.

It’s been so damn long since he’s felt that particular burn, being on the road for months, never safe, never alone given Ellie’s constant companionship. There was probably a time or two in his early days with Tess when he found himself surprised by desire, but it was easily smothered, tamed, wrested into submission.

That night, Joel tosses and turns and finally gives into the low-level arousal that’s plagued him all damn day, palming himself roughly through his sweats until he’s fully hard.

He imagines Ezra’s eyes on him, watching, remembers the feel of the man’s skin against his palm. He bites back a groan of pleasure when he eases his waistband over his cock and takes himself out, allowing his grip to tighten and find a familiar, easy rhythm. He can’t get the younger man’s voice out of his head, that low, rumbling baritone, so oddly soothing.

He presses his face into the pillow to muffle the sound when he comes.

[cheynovak]

 When we were young

Ben (Soldier Boy) Harrison x F/Reader Y/N           

Contains/warnings: 18+, Smut, Childhood/ family trauma, puberty, losing virginity, dead of parent(s), time jumps, angst, fluff, hurt, ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language    

Words:  7000

*Does not follow the boys storyline – Set in a time period where Ben was not yet a supe. Since we don’t know his last name, I came up with Harrison for this story.*  

-- 

Y/N is a young girl who works with her mother as a maid in the household of Mr. Harrison and his son Ben. Since Ben was mostly in boarding school and Y/N till this summer in a normal school, they didn’t know each other very well. 

This summer it all changed, Y/N had to help her mother financially and Mr. Harrison was so kind to let her work with her mom in his house. That’s when she met Ben, his son who was only a year older than her.  

Soon the kids became best friends... but is that all there is? Friendship? 

-- 

It was the hottest June I could remember, the kind where the air felt thick and the sun seemed to never set. Mom had worked at the Harrison estate for as long as I could recall, her hands roughened by years of scrubbing and polishing.  

She always said it was honest work, and I believed her, but I couldn't help but wish for something more for us. That summer, I started working alongside her. It was the first time I'd be spending most of my days in the grand old house on the hill, a place that seemed to belong in a different world altogether.  

The Harrisons were well-off, and their home reflected it, with its sprawling lawns, marble floors, and rooms that echoed with emptiness. Mr. Harrison was a stern man with a permanent scowl who owned half of the steel industry in town, the kind that made you feel like you were always doing something wrong, even when you weren’t.  

Ben was home from boarding school for the summer. I’d heard about him from Mom, seen his pictures in the grand hallway, a boy with green eyes and freckles, always looking slightly out of place in his stiff school uniforms.  

He looked nice, a clean boy with mystery in his eyes, mom told me that he lost his mother a few years back, since then his father sends his to boarding school. He had the posture of his father but the kindness of his mom. But nothing could prepare me for meeting him in person.  

I was dusting the library when I first saw him. The door creaked open, and I looked up, expecting to see Mr. Harrison, but instead, it was a young boy about my age, his green eyes wide with curiosity while he hung against the frame.  

“Hi,” he said, a little shyly. “I’m Ben.” “I’m Y/N,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “I work here with my mom.” He nodded, “I know. I’ve seen you around the house this week.”  

“How old are you?” He asked “Thirteen,” I said while continue doing my job. “How ‘bout you?”  I saw his perfect lips curl into a smile “Fourteen.” 

We stood there for a moment, awkwardly, until he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the rows of books. “Do you like to read?” “Sometimes,” I said, following his gaze. “But I don’t have as many as you do.”  

Ben nodded, a shadow passing over his face. “Yeah, I get that.” I didn’t know then about the things he carried, the weight of his mother’s death earlier that year or the way his father’s harsh words echoed in his head.  

“Here.” He said handing me an old book. “It’s my favourite.”  

He was kind but I could see the sadness in his eyes, the kind that doesn’t go away with time. As the weeks passed, we fell into an easy companionship. Ben would help me with my chores, carrying buckets of soapy water or reaching high shelves that I couldn’t. I didn’t think he liked the work, but he just wanted someone to talk to. 

We talked about everything and nothing – books, school, the future we both dreamed of but felt so far out of reach. One afternoon, we were sitting under the old oak tree in the backyard for my break, the sun filtering through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the grass.  

Ben was unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Are you okay?” I asked softly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s my dad. He… he’s... Everything I do is wrong. I can’t make him happy.” I didn’t know what to say.  

I’d seen Mr. Harrison’s temper, the way his face would turn red and his voice would rise until it seemed like the walls themselves were trembling. “I’m sorry,” I said finally. “That sounds really hard.” Ben nodded, his eyes meeting mine.  

We sat there for a long time, the silence between us comfortable. As we were getting up from the grass so I could work again, Ben took the heavy bucket out of my hands, just as Mr. Harrison walked out. His eyes zoned in on Ben helping me, his face contorted with anger. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Benjamin?” he roared, his voice echoing through the hallway. “I don’t pay you to laze around, girl! I pay you and your mother to do the work. Not him!” I froze. Ben’s grip tightened, his knuckles white against the handle.  

He flinched at his father's words, shrinking back as if he’d been struck. I could see the fear in his eyes, a raw and vulnerable look that made my heart ache. “Dad, I was just...” Ben started, his voice small and shaky.  

“You were just what?” Mr. Harrison cut him off, stepping closer. “Just wasting time? Just shirking your responsibilities? You think you can just do whatever you please?”  

“It’s my fault,” I said quickly, stepping forward. “I asked Ben to help me. It won’t happen again, sir.” Mr. Harrison turned his glare on me, his eyes cold and hard. “See that it doesn’t,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Get back to work."  

He stormed off, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. Ben and I stood there for a moment, the bucket between us, the weight of his father's anger still lingering in the air. “I’m sorry,” Ben said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s not usually this bad, he just has a bad day.”  

I shook my head, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. Let’s just finish this.” I worked in silence for the rest of the day, the easy companionship we’d found overshadowed by the tension Mr. Harrison had left behind.  

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Ben had flinched, the fear in his eyes. It wasn’t right. No one should have to live like that. That night, as Mom and I walked home, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.  

“Mom, why does Mr. Harrison treat Ben like that? It’s not fair.” Mom sighed, her shoulders heavy with the weight of her own experiences in that house. “Life isn’t always fair, Y/N. Mr. Harrison… he’s a hard man. Losing his wife made him even harder. Ben’s caught in the middle of all that anger and grief.” “ 

But it’s not Ben’s fault,” I insisted, frustration bubbling up inside me. “He’s just a kid, you never treated me like that when dad left.” “I know, sweetheart,” Mom said gently. “But sometimes, people lash out at those closest to them when they’re hurting. It’s not right, but it happens. All we can do is be kind and supportive where we can.”  

Sometime later, at the end of the summer, I was dusting the grand staircase when I heard voices coming from Mr. Harrison’s study. The door was slightly open, and I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation inside.  

“I don’t want to go back to boarding school, Dad,” Ben was saying, his voice strained. “You don’t get a say in this, Ben,” Mr. Harrison replied harshly. “You’ve been spending too much time with the maid, what will people say. You need to learn your place and some manners. Boarding school is just good for you.”  

“But, Dad...”  

“No! Pack your things. You’re leaving tomorrow. ”I stepped back, my heart heavy. The thought of Ben leaving filled me with an unexpected sadness. He was the only person in that big, cold house who made it feel warm and alive.  

That evening, as the sun began to set right before we were about to leave, I sneaked up to Ben’s room. The door was slightly open, and I could see him inside, his suitcase half-packed on the bed. He looked up as I entered, surprise and relief flashing in his green eyes.  

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I heard you’re leaving,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. He nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Dad’s sending me back to boarding school.”  

I took a step closer, my heart pounding. “I just wanted to say goodbye.” Ben stood up, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, neither of us moved, the air between us thick with unspoken words. Then, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. It was a quick, desperate motion, as if he was afraid to let go.  

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. The feeling of his arms around me was both comforting and electrifying, and I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t expected.  

“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair. “For being my friend.”  

“Always,” I whispered back, my voice choked with emotion. “You’ll be okay, Ben. You’re stronger than you know.” We stood there for what felt like an eternity, neither of us wanting to break the embrace.  

Ben pulled back, “I’ll write to you,” he said, his voice firm. “Every chance I get.” I nodded, blinking back my own tears. With one last, lingering look, I turned and left the room, the weight of our goodbye settling heavily on my shoulders. 

The next day, I watched from a distance as the car took Ben away, his face pressed against the window, watching the house grow smaller. I waved, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. And as the car disappeared from my view, I made another silent promise to myself: I would be here, waiting, whenever he came back.  

Almost a year had passed since Ben left for boarding school. True to his word, he wrote to me whenever he could. His letters were my lifeline to him, filled with stories about his life there.  

At first, they were full of loneliness and homesickness, how he didn’t have many friends and felt out of place. But gradually, the tone of his letters changed. He wrote about sneaking out of the dormitories, getting into trouble, and even about a girl he met while sneaking out, who had kissed him. 

I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when I read that part. It felt like he was slipping away, becoming someone different. Someone who wasn’t just my Ben anymore. His letters became less frequent over the winter, and I was disappointed he didn’t come home for Christmas.  

It made me worry about the kind of person he was turning into. But now it was summer, and he was supposed to stay for at least a few weeks. I felt a mix of nervous and happy to see him again.  

Nervous because I wasn’t sure what to expect after all this time. Happy because, despite everything, he was still Ben, and I missed him more than I cared to admit. The day he arrived, the sun was blazing, and the air was thick with humidity. I was helping Mom in the garden, pulling weeds and tending to the flowers. We heard the car pull up, and my heart skipped a beat.  

I wiped my hands on my apron and stood up, trying to calm the fluttering in my stomach. There he was, stepping out of the car, taller and more confident than I remembered. His green eyes still had that familiar spark, but there was something different about him.  

A new hardness around the edges, a maturity that hadn’t been there before. He saw me standing by the garden and smiled, a slow, almost hesitant smile. “Y/N!” he called, waving. “Ben!” I called back, unable to keep the grin off my face.  

I ran to him, my heart pounding with a mix of joy and anxiety. He met me halfway, and before I could say anything, he pulled me into a hug. It was different from the last one, more grown-up somehow, but it still felt like coming home.  

The butterflies in my stomach were back, more intense than ever. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice soft in my ear. “I missed you too,” I replied, pulling back to look at him. “You’ve changed.”  

He shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Boarding school does that to you, I guess. But it’s still me, Y/N.” “I know,” I said, smiling. “Come on, let’s go inside. You must be tired or hungry, I can make you something.”  

Mom watched us getting back to the house, Ben smiled polite and nodded to her when I pulled him by his arm. I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. He was here, and for the next few weeks, we would be together again.  

As we reached the door, I glanced at him, hoping that the boy I knew was still there, underneath all the changes. And as he looked back at me with that same old twinkle in his eye, I felt a flicker of hope.  

Maybe things hadn’t changed as much as I feared.  

That night at dinner, the tension in the dining room was palpable. Mr. Harrison dominated the conversation, droning on about business and politics, while Ben and I sat in uncomfortable silence.  

Ben's father hardly acknowledged him, only speaking to tell him what he should or shouldn't be doing. I was helping Mom serve dinner, carrying plates of roast chicken and mashed potatoes from the kitchen to the table.  

When I brought a fresh drink to Ben, he looked up at me and winked. It was a small, playful gesture, but it caught me off guard. I blushed, my cheeks heating up, and in my flustered state, I accidentally spilled some of the drink onto the table. 

Mr. Harrison's face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Ben. “What’s the matter with you, Benjamin?” he snapped. “Haven’t you learned not to upset with a young girl like that, is that what they teach you in school? Look at the mess you’re causing.”  

Ben's expression tightened, a flicker of the old fear and anger flashing in his eyes. “It was an accident, Dad,” he said quietly. “An accident,” Mr. Harrison scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ve been back for less than a day, and you’re already causing trouble. You’re an embarrassment.”  

Ben clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists on the table. I could see the effort it took for him to stay silent, to not lash out. My heart ached for him, wishing I could do something to make it better. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “It was my fault. I wasn’t upset, Ben didn’t upset me, Sir.” Mr. Harrison barely glanced at me, his attention fixed on his son. “Maybe you should learn from Y/N’s example, Benjamin. At least she knows how to take responsibility for her mistakes.”  

Ben’s eyes met mine and I could see the hurt and frustration in them. He gave me a small, tight smile, trying to reassure me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. After dinner, I helped Mom clear the table while Ben retreated to the library.  

Once the kitchen was cleaned up, I found him there, staring out the window into the darkening yard. His shoulders were slumped, the confident, playful boy I’d seen earlier replaced by someone who looked tired and beaten down.  

“Ben,” I said softly, stepping into the room. “Are you okay?” He turned to look at me, his eyes weary. “I’m fine, Y/N. It’s just… him. He always knows how to get under my skin.” I walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to let him. You’re stronger than he thinks.”  

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.” I could feel the heat of his skin coming through his shirt “You’re not alone. I’m here.” I said. He looked at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. I smiled back, my heart fluttering, my eyes land on his perfect plump lips.  

“Come on. Let’s go outside. The night’s too beautiful to waste in here.” We slipped out into the garden, the cool night air a welcome relief from the oppressive atmosphere of the house. As we walked, the stars twinkling above us, I could see some of the tension easing from Ben’s shoulders.  

For a while, we just walked in silence, the only sounds the chirping of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Finally, Ben spoke, his voice low and thoughtful. “I hate that he makes me feel like this,” he said. “Like I’m never good enough.”  

“You are good enough,” I said firmly, stopping to look at him. “Don’t let him make you forget that.” He looked at me, his green eyes bright in the moonlight, his skin had a cool glow. “You’re amazing, Y/N. You know that?” I blushed again, looking down glad the night sky didn’t show it.  

“I’m just being honest.” I said. 

He reached out, lifting my chin so I had to meet his gaze. “And that’s why you’re amazing.” For a moment, we just stood there, looking at each other. Then, slowly, he leaned down.” My heart raced, I closed my eyes. “He kissed my cheek, a soft, lingering touch that sent a shiver down my spine. “Thank you, for being my only friend.” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. 

I opened my eyes, I don’t know if I had to be glad or disappointed but I knew he meant well.” Same goes for you.” I whispered.  

That summer, Ben and I spent as much time together as we could. We explored the woods behind the estate, swam in the cool creek that wound through the property, and lay in the grass watching the clouds drift by.  

Every moment felt precious, like I was storing up memories to carry me through the long months when he’d be gone again. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but hope that Ben would start to feel the same way about me as I did about him.  

But as the days passed, it became clear that his heart was somewhere else. Or rather, with someone else. Her name was Emily. Ben had met her while he sneaked out on night, and he couldn’t stop talking about her. Emily was funny, Emily was smart, Emily loved to read the same books he did.  

Each mention of her name felt like a small, sharp pang in my chest, but I forced myself to smile and listen, pretending it didn’t hurt. One afternoon, we were sitting by the creek, our feet dangling in the cool water.  

Ben was skipping stones across the surface, his eyes alight with excitement. “And then Emily said,” he began, launching into another story about her. I nodded, trying to keep the smile on my face. “She sounds great,” I said, forcing the words out. “She is,” he said, grinning. “I wish you could meet her. You’d like her.”  

“Yeah,” I replied, looking down at the water. “Maybe one day.” He didn’t notice the strain in my voice, too wrapped up in his own thoughts he just kept rambling on “That’s great, Ben,” I said, my heart sinking. I wanted to be happy for him, I really did. But it was hard when it felt like I was losing him to someone I’d never even met.  

As the weeks went by, I tried to push my feelings aside, to focus on the time we had together. We laughed and talked and shared secrets, and I clung to those moments, hoping they would be enough to sustain me. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the sadness that settled in my chest whenever Ben mentioned Emily.  

It was a constant reminder that his heart belonged to someone else, and no amount of wishing could change that. One evening, as we sat on the porch steps watching the sun set, I couldn’t hold it any longer.  

“Ben,” I said softly, staring at the horizon, “do you ever think about the future?” He glanced at me, a curious look on his face. “Of course. Why?” “I just… I wonder what it’ll be like. For us, I mean.” I kept my eyes fixed on the setting sun, afraid to see his reaction. He was silent for a moment. 

He reached out and took my hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "You’re important to me, you know that right?” A flicker of hope washed over me. “You’re my best friend.” at there goes it again, my heart sank. “Thanks, Ben,” I whispered, squeezing his hand. It wasn’t the answer I wanted but I couldn’t tell him. 

As the summer drew to a close, I tried to make the most of every moment we had left. I laughed at his jokes, listened to his stories, and pretended my heart wasn’t breaking a little more each day.  

When the time came for him to leave, we stood by the gate, the same place where we’d said goodbye the year before. He hugged me tightly, and I held on, trying to memorize the feel of his arms around me.  

“I’ll write to you,” he promised, pulling back to look at me. “I know you will,” I said, forcing a smile. He gave me one last, lingering look, then turned and walked away.  

-- 

Dear Y/N,  

I hope you’re doing well and everything’s good back home. How’s your mom? I miss you both. The house must feel so empty without all of us around. Sometimes, I miss the quiet of the estate and the sound of the creek we used to visit. Things here at school are… well, they’re complicated.  

Remember Emily? Turns out, things didn’t work out between us. She left for another school, and we kind of lost touch. It was hard at first, but I guess it was for the best. Life moves on, right? 

Speaking of moving on, there’s someone new I want to tell you about. Her name is Cathy. She’s got this incredible red hair that shines like copper in the sunlight, and she’s got the most beautiful long legs.  

She’s not just pretty; she’s smart and funny, too. We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and she makes this place a little more bearable. Cathy’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. She’s confident and knows what she wants. I feel like I can be myself around her, which is a nice change.  

She’s been helping me with my history homework, and I’m helping her with different things. It’s a good balance. 

I can’t wait to see you again. I’ll be home for Christmas this year, so we can catch up properly. Maybe we can visit the creek and talk like we used to. I miss those talks. 

Take care, Y/N. Write back soon and tell me all about what’s happening there. I want to hear everything.  

Yours always,  

Ben 

** 

Dear Ben,  

It was so good to get your letter. I’m glad to hear things are going well for you at school and that you’ve met someone who makes you happy. Cathy sounds wonderful, and I’m really glad you have someone like her in your life.  

Things here have been… difficult. My mom is very ill. The doctors don’t know if she’s going to make it till Christmas. It’s been so hard watching her get weaker every day.  

Your dad has been kind enough to pay for the medical bills, but I have to work twice as hard now. The house feels so empty without you, and I miss the times we spent together more than ever. 

It’s strange how life can change so quickly. One moment, everything feels normal, and the next, it’s like the ground has shifted beneath your feet. I’ve been trying to stay strong, but some days it feels impossible.  

Your letters help, though. They remind me of better times and give me something to look forward to. I miss you, Ben. I miss our talks, just having you around, you know? The creek feels lonely without you, and the oak tree doesn’t feel like our spot without you sitting beside me.  

I hope you can come home for Christmas. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I really need a friend right now. Take care of yourself, Ben, please write back soon.  

Your letters mean the world to me.  

Yours always,  

Y/N 

-- 

A few days before Christmas, everything changed.  

My mom’s battle with illness came to an end, and the world seemed to stop turning for a moment. The grief was overwhelming, and I felt lost in a sea of sorrow. Mr. Harrison was kind enough to allow me time off to arrange the funeral, but it was a blur of tears and heartache.  

On the day of the funeral, Ben came home. I didn’t expect to see him so soon. But when he heard what happened he jumped on the first train home. On the day of the funeral, he stood at the back during the service, a quiet figure under a tree, watching from a distance.  

When it was time for one more greeting, he walked up to me last. His presence brought a small comfort, a reminder of the friendship we shared. I couldn’t hold back the tears when he approached me.  

He held out a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen. They were a mix of roses and lilies, vibrant and full of life, just like my mom had been. I took them from him with trembling hands, unable to find the words to express my gratitude. “They’re for your mom,” Ben said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought… she deserved something beautiful.” 

My tears now flowed freely, a mixture of grief and relief to see him there. Ben didn’t say anything at first; he just pulled me into a gentle hug, his warmth a balm to my broken heart. After a moment, he stepped back and looked at me. I knew he knew what I felt.  

After the funeral, Ben stayed with me as I faced the daunting task of packing up my mom’s belongings. His presence made the sorrow a little easier to bear, his quiet strength a steady anchor in the storm of emotions.  

As the days passed and Christmas drew nearer, Ben helped me with everything, from organizing, to going to the shop and putting up the tree and lights. His kindness and understanding meant more to me than words could express.  

On Christmas Day, they sat in the dining room, the twinkling lights of the tree casting a warm glow over the room. It wasn’t the Christmas I had imagined, but it was good that I had to work, I could at least try to keep my mind off of things. 

During dinner, while I was busy working around the table, Mr. Harrison's question caught me off guard. "Y/N, where will you live now?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. I paused, setting down a plate, unsure how to respond.  

With my mom gone and my dad out of the picture for many years, the reality of my situation was stark. I couldn’t afford to keep our room anymore, and I hadn’t yet figured out my next steps. 

Mr. Harrison continued, his tone almost compassionate, "You know, Y/N, the house feels empty. I could use some extra help who lives in house. You wouldn’t get paid as much anymore, but you’d have a roof over your head and three meals a day. What do you say?” 

His offer took me by surprise. “I… I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, feeling a mix of gratitude and hesitation. “Your mom has been part of this household for so long, Y/N,” Mr. Harrison said, his expression softening. “You’re like family. It’s the least I can do.”  

I glanced at Ben, who was watching silently from his seat. His eyes met mine briefly, and I saw a flicker of understanding and support. “Thank you,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I gladly accept your offer, sir.” Relief washed over me, knowing I would have a place to stay, at least for now.  

It wasn’t what I had imagined for myself, but in that moment, it was the best option I had. I would figure out the rest as I went along.  

After dinner, Ben knocked softly on the door of my new room, and I welcomed him in with a smile. The space was bigger than what I was used to, but it felt warm and safe, a stark contrast to the uncertainty I had felt just days ago.  

He climbed on my bed, my hearts raced, As we lay side by side on the bed, the room illuminated softly by the lamp on the bedside table, I couldn’t help but remark, “You know, Ben, this is the nicest room I’ve ever slept in.”  

He chuckled softly, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light. “I’m glad you like it. You deserve to have a nice place to call home.” He reached out and squeezed my hand. “You’re family, Y/N. We take care of each other.”  

We talked late into the night, sharing memories of our summers together and dreams for the future. The weight of my grief felt lighter with Ben by my side, his presence a comfort in the darkness. Then, in a quiet moment, Ben confessed,  

“I broke up with Cathy.” Surprised, I turned to look at him. “Oh? What happened?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It just wasn’t working out. She was so jealous all the time, always questioning where I was and who I was writing to. It got exhausting.” 

“I’m sorry, Ben,” I murmured, feeling for him. “That must have been tough.” He nodded, his expression somber. “Yeah. But maybe it’s for the best. I want someone who trusts me and who I can be myself around.”  

“You’ll find someone like that,” I assured him, squeezing his hand. he smiled and turned to me "maybe" he said, I could have sworn I saw his face move closer to mine. Or maybe it was just my mind playing tricks. 

A little later I drifted off to sleep, a sense of peace settled over me, knowing I was safe and cared for in my new home. Ben’s presence beside me brought a comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time.  

As I lay there, he settled in beside me, his arm pulling me closer, his hand gently caressing my arm, I couldn’t help but feel a deepening connection between us.  

In my dream, I saw him clearly, crawling on the bed hovering over me, like I was looking at an angel. The early morning sunshine streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over his face.  

His freckles stood out like constellations against his skin, and his green eyes sparkled with a warmth that reached deep into my soul. His light brown hair, now kissed with hints of blond from the sun, framed his face perfectly. I couldn’t look away.  

Mesmerized by his beauty, I felt my heart swell with a mixture of admiration and something more, a longing that I had been afraid to acknowledge until now. His perfect eyes looked at my lips before he closed the space between us. 

I took a deep breath and as I woke from my dream, the lingering warmth of Ben’s touch on my skin brought a sense of comfort, but as I fully emerged from sleep, I realized he was no longer beside me.  

A pang of disappointment and unease settled in my chest. I glanced around the room, half-expecting to see him there, but it was empty except for me. The covers beside me were cool and I couldn’t shake the feeling of his absence. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, trying to push away the lingering traces of the dream and the sense of loss it had left behind. 

Ben had left before morning, and although I knew it wasn’t unusual for him to be up early, a part of me wished he had stayed, just a little longer. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet.  

The emptiness of the room echoed the emptiness in my heart, reminding me of the fragile balance of our new arrangement. With a sigh, I stood up and began to get ready for the day, pushing aside my mixed emotions.  

-- 

Ben’s POV:  

As Ben woke that morning, he felt the soft weight of Y/N’s body nestled against him, her warmth a comforting presence in the early light filtering through the curtains. Opening his eyes, he watched as sunlight gently kissed her face, casting a serene glow over her features.  

She looked so peaceful asleep, a stark contrast to the worries and uncertainties that often plagued their lives. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, Ben couldn’t help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions.  

In the quiet of the morning, with Y/N in his arms, he allowed himself to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for her. Her friendship had always been a constant in his life, a source of strength and understanding.  

But now, as he looked at her sleeping form, he realized that his feelings had shifted, deepening into something more. He broke with any girl the second he realised they weren’t like her. Why he didn’t confess to her? He was afraid to let her go, afraid of losing the bond they had shared for so long.  

The thought of risking their friendship for something uncertain weighed heavily on his mind. Yet, in that moment, with her soft breaths against his chest and the warmth of her body against his, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards her.  

Quietly, he traced the curve of her cheek with his finger, saving the moment to memory. Ben reluctantly untangled himself from Y/N's embrace. Her soft breathing and the warmth of her body lingered in his mind as he quietly slipped out of the room.  

He paused by the doorway, casting one last glance back at her sleeping form, conflicted emotions swirling within him. He knew he had to leave before she woke up. The weight of their evolving relationship and the fear of jeopardizing their friendship weighed heavily on his heart.  

Closing the door softly behind him, Ben took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts. 

-- 

Weeks passed and I didn’t receive a single letter from Ben yet. I wondered if I did anything wrong? Mr. Harrison was very nice to me the days Ben wasn’t home. I did do the household as told but he asked me to join him for dinner.  

He said eating alone wasn’t fun for the both of us, so he asked me to join him in the dining room. I accepted since I was the only maid who stayed at the house and ate the same meal.  

Ben’s POV: 

Ben had made a few new friends at boarding school. Since he beat up a fellow student some of the tougher guys at school started to like him. And found himself in a situation he had never anticipated.  

His new friends, older and more experienced, had convinced him to sneak out for a night of drinking. As they laughed and joked, the thrill of being accepted by this group masked his growing unease.  

In the dimly lit bar, the boys stood amidst the haze of alcohol. It was a quiet night, only them and a woman, who did seem to approach him. She was older, maybe around 25, and her confidence was palpable. Ben felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as she leaned in close, her perfume enveloping him. " 

“Hey there, handsome," she purred, her voice husky with allure. "Care to join me for a drink?" Ben's heart raced. He had never been in a situation like this before. His friends egged him on with knowing smirks, whispering encouragement that only fuelled his curiosity and apprehension.  

Caught between the desire to fit in and the uncertainty of what was happening, Ben hesitated. He wasn't sure how to respond to this bold advance from a woman who seemed so sure of herself.  

Deep down, though, he knew this wasn't what he wanted. He thought of Y/N, the girl who had always been there, understanding and kind. As the woman leaned closer, her perfume enveloping him in a heady haze, Ben felt a surge of conflicting emotions, excitement, fear, and a deep-seated longing for something more meaningful. 

As Ben agreed to accompany the woman to a more private booth, backs facing his friends. His mind raced with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness. His older friends continued to joke and laugh at the bar, seemingly unconcerned with what was unfolding.  

In the dimly lit booth, the woman wasted no time in making her intentions clear, her hand caressed his thigh, her eyes never leaving him, while her tongue moved ever so slow over her lips. She moved close to Ben, her touch bold and unfamiliar.  

Her actions were assertive, almost aggressive, leaving Ben feeling overwhelmed and out of his depth. As she leaned in closer, whispering suggestive words in his ear, Ben struggled to respond. His thoughts raced back to the one girl he truly cared about, the one he wished he could share moments like this with Y/N.  

He felt a pang of guilt and regret, knowing that this experience was far from what he truly wanted. He didn't want to appear inexperienced or foolish in front his new friends, especially after they had egged him on and joked about the situation.  

With a mix of nervousness and a desire to please, Ben hesitated for a moment. The woman's eyes searched his, a mix of anticipation and assurance. In that fleeting moment, Ben made a split-second decision, he leaned in and kissed her. The kiss was awkward and uncertain, lacking the passion and connection he had imagined in his fantasies.  

It felt more like a performance, a scripted response to the situation he found himself in. But his teenage body thought differently. The physical sensations sparked by the kiss and the woman's closeness stirred a primal reaction.  

His heartbeat quickened, adrenaline surged through his veins, and a sense of exhilaration momentarily masked the discomfort and uncertainty he felt. In that fleeting moment, the physicality of the kiss overpowered the intellectual and emotional dissonance he experienced.  

His teenage body, attuned to new experiences and heightened sensations, responded with a not to ignore erection. 

Her hand moved down and Ben did his best to keep his breath steady. The woman looked over her shoulder to his friend, but all of them were too busy to get drunk. She slipped in between his knees, Ben’s eyes widen.  

“What are you...” But she hushed him with a finger over his mouth. Within a minute he felt her lips around his erection. The feeling made him react on instinct, throwing his head back and letting out a deep breath.  

The second after that he felt a little unsure, looking around, the woman noticed, ordering him to look at her. Unable to think straight he closed his eye, his mind raced back to Y/N. The sight of her working him made it hard not to let go.  

When she noticed he had a hard time keeping control he lifted her skirt and straddled him, it was the first time Ben had felt a woman like that, it wasn’t what he expected of it, but it was nice, almost an addicted feeling. A few rough bounced from her and he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

While he tried to hold his groans quiet, she pulled him to her chest. The second his release ebb away she stood up and walked away towards the bar. Ben let his head fall back out of breath and watched her. She walked over to his friends, one of them handed her money.  

He looked at Ben and smirked, he just shook his head thinking that his friends were crazy. As he rejoined them, they all laughed. Saying how he now was a real man. The one who paid smacked a hand on his shoulder. 

“Since you seemed unable to find a girl who was willing to all the way with you, we thought we might lend you a hand.” Ben shook his head smiling. “By paying a fucking hooker?” The guys started laughing. “Yeah, well next time you need to find your own pussy, Benny-boy.”  

He smiled like the rest of them, but deep down he felt guilty. How was he supposed to act around Y/N now? How was he going to be able to look her in her eyes and act normal ever again? 

--

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[doe-eyed-fool]

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter Eight|

"Michael, I really can't waste time." Y/n says as she walks with Michael. "I have to tell God of my vision before it's too late. Sera is somehow still letting the extermination go on, he needs to know!" Michael stops once they were completely alone, and faces her.

"Sera isn't in control of the exterminations anymore, Y/n." He tells her. Y/n furrows her brows. "Then...why is it still happening?" She asks. Michael sighs, his eyes avoiding her as he speaks. "That's because God has decided to continue it."

Y/n felt her world slow to a grinding halt. "What are you saying?" Why would God allow for the exterminations to continue? He knows there are human souls down there. But human or not, the killings were senseless and unnecessary. So why would he let this go on?

"Y/n, listen, it's not what you think." Michael tries to explain. "Not what I think?" Y/n repeats. "God is allowing the massacre of countless defenseless people! They're already damned for eternity, this is just insult to injury!"

Michael reaches for her hand. "Y/n..."

Y/n took a step away from him. "It's wrong! And you know it's wrong!" She turns and starts to walk. "And God should know that too. But apparently not."

Michael hurries after her. "You can't see him right now. If you must speak with him, then come back-"

"You don't understand!" Y/n stops. "When that extermination starts, it will result in a battle between Adam and Lucifer! Adam will not return! Do you really think it's worth sacrificing the first man for this idiotic slaughter!? Not to mention Lucifer is now involved with this mess!"

"Lucifer has always been involved! He's the one who allowed it!" Michael exclaims.

"Yes, but don't you think he's had enough to actually try and stop it this time? Adam will nearly Charlie for Heaven's sakes! Of course Lucifer is going to be furious!"

"And he knows what awaits him, if he were to get too furious." Michael clenches his fists tightly. Y/n slightly taken back by his change of tone. "Michael..."

"The same goes for the overlords." Michael starts. "The exorcist angels are strong. If enough of them fight together, they can take down an Overlord. But only if there's just one. Overlords have countless souls, and if they ever decided to work together..."

"An exorcist army could prove to be useful. It seems to have intimidated them enough in the past. They know what kind of power Heaven holds and they fear it."

Y/n could understand the fear of demons uprising. Especially from the Overlords and Sins that reside below. But there had to be some other way to keep them from attacking. Surely, extermination was not the answer.

"You never answered my question." Y/n mutters. "Is God willing to sacrifice the first man?" Michael was silent. "There is no outcome where Adam returns. And in the future where he does return...Charlie will be killed. And Lucifer will declare war on Heaven. Do either of those futures sound favorable, Michael?"

Y/n could see the conflict in his eyes as he remains quiet. He had no real answer to give, not one that would make anything about this situation better.

Y/n continued walking. "If you are so instant I can't speak to God, then you can tell him of those futures. Goodbye, Michael."

Michael only watched as she grew further and further away from his sight. He wished he could do or say anything to make her feel better. He's upset her, and he hated himself for it.

But there was nothing he could do now. It's already been decided.

To change the future meant risk, risks that could result in very dire consequences. The slightest bit of altering could lead to disaster when not careful. Y/n knew this better than anyone. And yet, the risks, the consequences did not scare her. Not right now.

Y/n had looked into that same future again, this time she's learned that Charlie and her friends would fight back against Adam using angelic weaponry. One of the Overlords in Hell, Carmilla Carmine, had been producing angelic weapons for some time now. What's more impressive, is that she managed to kill an exorcist angel during last year's extermination.

Y/n knew that this could lead to trouble. If God knew they had gotten their hands on angelic weapons, and were able to kill angels, he might decide to do something far more drastic than just exterminations.

In fact, there was a very real possibility of that happening. An all out attack against Carmilla to cease the production of angelic weapons would occur. Carmilla would of course fight back, but ultimately would loose.

With one Overlord now dead, it would lead to more Overlords striking back. War would be the outcome of it all.

It was then Y/n decided to make sure that future never happens. So, she would do probably the most boldest, and dumbest, thing she would ever do.

In the dead of night, Y/n stood alone in her home, arms outstretched in front of her. She took deep breaths to steady herself. This was acting very far out of line. What she was about to do, could land her in deep trouble. But the very future was on the line, if there was any way she could save it, she would do it.

That same hot air brushed against her skin, causing her to reopen her eyes. There it was, the portal to Hell right in front of her. Y/n could hear her heartbeat in her ears, her shoulders tensed up. She inhaled before taking a step forward.

And there she was, in the belly of the beast. The heart of where all evil lies. This was Hell, in all it's terrible glory.

Up ahead, resting on to of a steep hill, was the same Hotel Y/n had seen so many times in her visions. Y/n hid away her wings and halo to look a little less conspicuous before walking up the path to the hotel.

Y/n didn't know what lies beyond these doors, but she raised her hand and knocked anyway. She waited for a moment before the door was opened, causing her breath to catch.

"Hel...lo?"

Charlotte Morningstar, stood before Y/n with a half smile. It looked as if she were trying to figure Y/n out. Sure, her wings and halo were hidden, but there wasn't much she could do about her robes. It seems Charlie already knew what she was.

Y/n offered a smile. "Hello."

"Uh...Hi?" The princess mutters.

"Charlie, who's at the...What the fuck!?" A shorter demon with long white hair exclaimed. The next thing Y/n knew, there was the edge of a spear pointed at her.

"Wait!" Y/n puts her hands up. "I'm not an exorcist! I'm only here to help!"

"Yeah right. Angels don't help demons." The grey demon scowled. "Wait a minute Vaggie." Charlie says, placing her hand on her shoulder. Charlie looks to Y/n. "Who are you?"

"My name is Y/n." Y/n starts. "I'm here to speak with Lucifer."

"My dad? Why?" Asked Charlie.

"Well, it involves Heaven and the overall state of it, or rather, the state it will be in. I'm hoping I can speak with him to come to some sort of compromise." Y/n tells her.

"Compromise? Wait hang on, what's going on with Heaven?"

"Well, since your last visit, all of Heaven now knows about the exterminations. All but the civilians, of course. I had hoped the exterminations would come to an end, now that it was no longer a secret. But...it seems the exterminations proved to be useful..."

Charlie had a look of panic. "So, there's really no stopping it?" Y/n shakes her head. "I'm sure you know Adam will arrive tomorrow with his army of exorcists. Unfortunately, there is no way I will be able to stop him. This fight is destine to happen, and, the outcome will spark new tensions between Heaven and Hell. And that is why I am here. I wish to prevent a future like that from occurring."

Charlie blinks. "Future?" Y/n then chuckles lightly. "Yes, I can see into the future. I have been able to for many many years. I saw the development of this very hotel shortly after you were born."

"Oh..."

"Anyway." Y/n clears her throat. "I need to speak with Lucifer as soon as I can. May I?"

Charlie nods. "Sure but...He's not like, in trouble is he?" Charlie knew of her father's relationship with Heaven and the angels who inhabit it. She didn't want anything to happen to him, especially now that they've rekindled their relationship.

"No, he's not." Y/n smiles. "Don't worry, as long as I'm able to speak with him. There will no need to worry about anything else. Not for now at least. The future can surprise in many different ways."

"If you say so." Charlie smiles weakly. She then directs Y/n the way where her old home is. There, would be Lucifer. Y/n hasn't even left to find him, and she was already nervous.

She hasn't seen him in so long. She can't help but wonder just how much he's changed over the years.

Y/n landed just outside of the palace gates, she looked up at the towering castle above. It was so quiet, and empty. The people of Hell must have known better than to challenge their king. Y/n did not know of his power, but it must be great to warrant no guards being around to watch for potential threats.

Y/n's heartbeat would be the only thing she'd hear as she grew closer to the entrance. She took a breath before pushing on the large door. It gave way easily, much to her surprise. If the outside was quiet, the inside was dead silent.

Still no guards. No maids or butlers roaming the halls. No servants of any kind. Just...emptiness.

Y/n made her way through the halls, the walls above her decorated with family portraits of the Morningstar family. Y/n stopped in her tracks as she reached one that caught her attention.

It was of Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie. Charlie looked to be in her late teens, she stood between her mother and father with a nervous look. Her shoulders tensed, and her smile forced. Lilith stood to her left, her beauty just as haunting and captivating as all the other portraits.

Then there was Lucifer to the left. Y/n took a step closer to it. Though he was smiling, there was a look in Lucifer's eyes that Y/n couldn't quite describe. But she knew for certain, it was not happiness.

"You have exactly three seconds to explain yourself."

Y/n gasped sharply at the sudden voice behind her. That voice...

Y/n tensed, unmoving as her breathing came to a stop. She knew that voice.

"Well?"

How could she ever forget that voice?

Y/n slowly turned around, and was met with the King of Hell himself. His horns elongated, a small flame in the center of the two. His beautiful white wings, only broken by red feathers, flared out from his back. His deep red eyes bore into her own.

There he was, in all his hellish glory.

Lucifer Morningstar...

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