#i’m kind of dreading this for whatever reason and i think it’s because i know winter is coming up

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[lives-between-lines]

With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - poly!marauders x slytherin!reader

─

Summary: Preparing for the dreaded OWLs proves to be a difficult task for one tightly-wound Slytherin. How do Remus, James, and Sirius each offer assistance, and how does she handle it?

Notes: No Voldemort, but pureblood elitism is still very much a thing. Story starts at the end of the Marauders and Reader’s fifth year. I don’t know the most about all the Marauders Era headcanons so I kind of did what I wanted, sorry if you don’t like it. 

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~7.8k

p.1

─

I huffed as I reached for another heavy book on the shelf from one of the dark back corners of the library. I wasn’t in the restricted section just yet, but getting close to it. Between the weight of the other five books stacked in my arm and the height of the shelf I was trying to reach I nearly dropped them all. 

“Careful, there, Princess. Might break something lugging around all those books,” someone said next to me. I nearly jumped as I hadn’t noticed anyone come down this same aisle. 

I shot a glare at him for startling me. It was none other than Remus Lupin, one of those pesky Gryffindors who was constantly fighting me for my space at the top of the class. My glare intensified when I realized who it was.

“Yes, and it would sure be a shame if I managed to drop these on your foot and break something there,” I snarked. 

He looked amused at me. “Whoa, Princess, no need to get feisty with me. I was just going to offer my assistance.”

“And what kind of assistance should I accept from you when you’re just as likely to try and trick me?” Lupin gave me a weary look. Typical of Gryffindors to think everyone is as blindly trusting as them.

“No tricks, Princess, just offering a bit of help,” he said with a shrug.

“Would you stop that? Stop calling me that,” I snapped at him before turning back to the book I needed. Before I could make a second attempt to reach for it, Remus stepped up next to me and I froze. But then he grabbed the book for me and set it on top of my stack then took a step back. 

“Not a fan of your nickname?” He was of course referring to me being known as Slytherin’s Princess. Sometimes I like to pretend the nickname came about because I’m always top of the class, making my house proud, but I know the real reason is because I come from a wealthy, pureblood, Slytherin family and everyone thought me rather spoiled. 

“I am not some simpering girl in need of a man to save her and it’ll do good for the people in this school to remember that.” Despite his significant height, I lifted my chin to Remus Lupin and dared him to say otherwise. 

“Of course, of course,” he agrees, nodding his head and holding up his hands. “But you are Slytherin’s Princess, aren’t you?” His eyes light up in amusement at my frustration. 

My nostrils flare as I hold back my anger. It doesn’t do me any good to blow up at some stupid Gryffindor, not when that is exactly what he wants and I am not in the business of giving Gryffindors what they want.

Instead, I turn to walk away. Take the high-ground as they say. 

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Remus calls after me, quickly catching up to and following me. “Seriously, dove, I’m sorry. I was only joking. Please, let me help you with whatever on earth you could possibly need all these books for.”

I stop abruptly and turn toward him. “And why should I accept help from someone like you?” I nearly growl at him, barely holding back my frustrations.

Remus looks taken aback by my words. “Someone like me? You mean a half-blood?”

It’s my turn to be startled by him. “I mean a Gryffindor,” I bite out. This was exactly why I couldn’t stand this brutish group, they were always so quick to jump to outrageous assumptions, thinking the worst of someone like me just because I’m in Slytherin.

He looks relieved and confused at the same time, but I don’t really care to help him unpack his complex emotions about the exact reasoning behind why I don’t trust him. 

I dump my books down onto the table I had claimed earlier and began to scour the table of contents in the first one. Uninvited, Remus took the chair next to me and began looking over my shoulder at the book. 

“Can I help you, Lupin? Or are you just interested in being a nuisance?” 

“I’m glad to be a nuisance any day, but as I’ve said before I was actually hoping to help you.”

“And as I’ve said before I’m not looking for any help.” 

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Is that this close to our OWLs you’re scouring books for something that you think you’ve missed, but you’ve been at the top of our classes all year, so I highly doubt you’ve managed to miss anything of real importance.” I give him a confused look, trying to discern how he’s figured me out so easily. Except he’s wrong, of course, I did somehow manage to lose the year a specific herb was realized to have certain medicinal properties. “So now I’m trying to answer the question of what does little miss Slytherin Princess think that she desperately needs to know, and will that really be the determining factor in her score on her OWLs?”

I glance around to make sure no one else is listening to me admitting defeat in front of a Gryffindor. “I don’t have the year we began to use hyssop to treat earaches,” I murmur. 

Remus’s face seems to fall at my admission. “That’s what you’re so concerned about? A minor herb’s medicinal use? Not even that, you already know that, but what year that was discovered? That is such a niche detail, there is absolutely no way Sprout asks us that.”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously Sprout’s not going to ask us about that, it’s Binns that I’m worried about,” I explain. Although I really shouldn’t be giving my enemy any help in preparing for our upcoming tests. I was just as desperate to best him on these tests as I’m sure he was me. 

“Binns?” He asks, outraged. “Binns would never ask about that in a million years.”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that. We had a lecture on the history of medicinal herbs, hyssop was one of them.”

“And so you really think that from that one lecture he’s going to ask us when hyssop was discovered to help with earaches?”

“I was reviewing my notes and I had written down the year but it got smudged.”

“You’re actually a raving lunatic,” Remus tells me. He looks around the library like he might get up and leave, but then he turns back to me. “I realize these are the most important tests of the year, but I think you have way overestimated the difficulty of the questions that will be on them.”

“And I think you can never be too safe.”

We hold each other’s gaze for several moments. Remus finally blinks and then sighs. “Confound it all, fine. Hand me one.” He holds his hand out expectantly. 

I stare at him, confused. 

“Well? Are we going to look for this blasted year or not?” I blink out of my stupor and hand him one of the books I had grabbed. 

We sit in silence for a long while, pouring over the texts. The only sound in this part of the library is us turning pages. The first book I look through doesn’t contain my answer, and neither must the book Remus has. Although I am tempted to go back later and double check he didn’t find it and not tell me in an effort to trick me. 

After I get through two more books and Remus goes through three, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that had been nagging in the back of my head the entire time. 

“Why exactly are you helping me? Surely you’d much rather be focused on your own studying.”

Remus slowly pulls his attention away from the book in front of him. He blinks at me and then furrows his brows. “Sorry, I know you said something, I just didn’t quite catch what,” he admits. 

I can’t help the small laugh at his honesty. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d want to be studying for your OWLs.”

“I am studying for my OWLs,” he replies, tauntingly. I roll my eyes at him. 

“Come on, you know what I meant,” I push. 

He shrugs and I think that’s going to be all the answer I get, then after a pause he says, “you’ve intrigued me. I’m curious now to find out when we started using hyssop for earaches.” There’s something about his tone that’s off, but I mark it down to him just teasing me. “Besides, I’m already plenty prepared to get a perfect score and take my spot at the top of the class.”

I laugh at his taunting. “Clearly not prepared enough if you’re not well versed in the history of hyssop,” I tease back. 

He gives me a winning smile and something in my chest stutters at it. I must just be unsettled by his obviously false flattery. 

“Can I ask you something in return?” He asks after a moment. 

I consider him, then reply, “I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.” 

He smiles again and this time it feels like my heart has been squeezed just a bit. “Well I suppose that’s fair. But are you always so…” he trails off and I get nervous at where he’s going with this. “Well, are you always so intense about knowing every little detail?” He finally finishes. 

It must be relief that floods my veins when he doesn’t ask anything backhanded or rude. I actually give him a smile before glancing down at my lap. 

“I have to be, don’t I? There’s one way to stay where I am and it’s by rigorous study,” I admit. 

“Is it really so important to stay at the top that you have to obsess like this, though?” 

I think back to what happened when I would slack off with my studies at home before coming to Hogwarts. I can’t help the way my face falls at the memories. 

“I suppose it might not be so important to a Gryffindor, but success is a high priority in Slytherin,” I finally respond. It seems when I don’t know how to react I lash out, although Remus is lucky to have caught me in a good mood as I let him off rather easily. 

Nonetheless he still looks a bit dejected by my response. I feel a bit bad for shutting him down when we had been starting to get along rather well. 

“We should probably focus on the matter at hand, though, if we ever want to find our answer before curfew,” I say, returning to the book in front of me. 

“Right…” Remus murmurs. Part of me expects him to leave at that point, after all that’s when everyone else does. He surprises me when he stays and doubles down his efforts. 

I open my mouth, to say what I’m not entirely sure. I close my mouth again when I realize that I want to apologize. There’s no way that Remus wants some half baked apology from me. 

Time passes in silence, the both of us occupied with our search, but my mind keeps wandering to the way I had snapped at Remus. I didn’t understand why he had sat down to help me, but I shouldn’t have antagonized him for asking a simple question. It wasn’t his fault that the answer wasn’t so simple. 

I can’t help stealing glances of him every few minutes, which significantly hinders my speed in reading my book, but Remus doesn't seem to notice and I can’t get myself to stop. This means that I notice almost immediately when Remus freezes suddenly. I try not to react, not wanting to have been caught looking.

“Holy shit!” He nearly shouts, someone nearby shushes him loudly, but he’s too busy jumping out of his seat to mind. “Oh, Merlin’s beard I actually found it!” He whispers loudly this time and pumps his fist. Standing at his height above me while I sit next to him I have to strain my neck to look up at his face, but it’s such a beautiful sight with how excited he is.

“You mean you actually found the year?” I ask, matching his excitement.

He nods enthusiastically at me then points to the line of text that contains the answer we’d spent hours searching for. “Yes, yes, look! It’s right there.”

We celebrate as quietly as we can and I quickly jot down the information into my notes. 

“Oh, thank you, Remus! You’ve just saved me probably three hours.” I stand to join him. It’s then that I finally check the time and realize just how close it is to curfew. “Ah, shit,” I murmur. “We should turn in for the night. I don’t fancy having a run-in with Filch tonight.”

“Let me walk you to your dorm?” Remus offers.

“What? It’s nearly curfew, you’ll risk getting in trouble with Filch. No, I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself to my dorms for the night,” I reply firmly. 

“Don’t worry about me, dove, I can handle myself. Let me walk you to your dorm.” This time Remus sounds more like he’s telling me than asking me. Nevertheless I nod in agreement and we make our way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. 

On the way down, Remus teases me lightly about how obsessed I must be to dedicate so much effort into finding such a small detail. I tease him back about him being a nerd for helping me look for the answer. It’s lighthearted and easy and part of me thinks I could get used to having Remus as a friend. Another part of me questions what it would look like for me to be friends with a Gryffindor and whether my parents would approve or not. Then the first part kicks the second part for being such a self-obsessed ass. 

Just outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room I wave goodbye to Remus and wish him a good night. I try not to blush when he calls me “dove,” and dart into the safety of the common room. 

─

The next few weeks Remus seems to make it a habit of running into me in the library when I would otherwise be alone. In the past I had tried studying with Narcissa or Andromeda but the pair of them had bad habits of wanting to chat while I wanted to actually study, so my time in the library had previously been spent alone. 

Remus was different, though. He understood my desire to focus on the material in front of me and not whether or not his hair was looking frizzier than normal. 

Before I knew it I had come to rather enjoy his company. It felt almost reassuring that there was someone else who was similarly interested in studying, but wanted to do it with me. Somehow it was like studying at the same table as him made studying that much better, even if nothing of substance had changed. 

─

On a Saturday morning, a couple weeks before we were to begin taking our OWLs, I went out to the Black Lake just before the sun rose. I had slept fitfully, getting more and more nervous for the tests ahead of me. There was so much pressure to do good on these, I didn’t know what I would do if I were anything less than perfect. 

I don’t know why exactly I came out here, I just knew that I needed fresh air. Without much else of a plan, I sat down at the trunk of a tree and pulled out my wand. I practiced a couple small charms and transfigurations on the branches and rocks around me. 

“I’d say that rock doesn’t stand a chance against you, but I’d like to know what it did to deserve such treatment in the first place.”

I dropped the spell I had been using to propel the rock in the air and it fell swiftly. There likely wasn’t anyone in the school who I would not have been shocked to see, but I was especially shocked it was none other than James Potter. He’s a fairly popular boy my age in Gryffindor, mostly known for his outspokenness and disruptive behavior. If my memory serves me right, which it always does, he’s actually friends with Remus Lupin.

“What are you doing out here so early?” I can’t help but ask.

“I could ask the same of you,” he points out. I finally take him in at that moment. He’s wearing loose shorts and an old Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt that he’s cut the bottom half off to show off his athletic build. His curly hair is a mess atop his head, but I get the notion it’s always like that. When I meet his eyes I’m struck by how blue they are that I can notice even with him standing several feet in front of me. I can’t help but think to myself how pretty he is. He gives me a dorky smile, as if used to the attention but still not sure how to respond.

“Couldn’t sleep so well. Thought some fresh air would do me some good,” I finally answer, not acknowledging how I’d just been looking at him.

“Some fresh air and tormenting rocks?” He teases.

“Is that all you think we Slytherins do? Torment everything?” I huff. 

His face twists at my response. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all. It was just a joke, most people laugh at them.”

I sigh and lean back against the trunk of the tree. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge,” I admit, though I’m not sure why I feel the urge to open up to this next to perfect stranger.

James takes a few steps closer and I tense up, but he just takes a seat next to me under the tree. “What’s got you so on edge?” 

“Is that another one of your jokes? The OWLs obviously.”

“Oh, right. I suppose those are coming up soon.” He pauses and tears some grass in front of him. “What’re you stressed over those for?” 

My brows pinch together and I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “They’re only the most important tests of the entire school year, of our entire schooling career thus far! These will determine our entire futures.”

It’s James’s turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “They’re just another test, though. And I really don’t see how they’ll determine our entire futures,” he says plainly. 

I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to a Gryffindor to blow off something so important. 

“Look, I know you’ve got this whole thing about being perfect in every subject and staying ahead of everyone else, so I’ll make you a deal.” I turn to him, my interest piqued. “If you do any less than perfect on each of your OWLs, I’ll turn all the professor’s hair purple,” he offers.

My jaw drops at his suggestion. “What on earth would that accomplish?”

“Well I figure people won’t be talking about what grade you got on your OWLs if they’re too busy talking about Dumbledore with a lilac beard,” he’s laughing even as he says it. I laugh, too, at that image. 

“Make it bright pink and I’ll help you,” I reply through giggles. 

James gives me his award-winning dorky smile and I can’t tear my eyes away. 

“Seriously, though, I’ll bet you’ve already gotten perfect scores on every other test this year, there can’t be anyone else more prepared than you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, not used to outright compliments that weren’t also an insult. My gaze falls to where James is still fiddling with the grass. “A bit antsy, are you?”

“Sorry,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to work on that. I actually came out here to go for a run, it helps me burn some of my extra energy before the day so I can focus a bit better.”

I can’t imagine wanting to start the day by burning through energy, I often woke up with barely enough to make it through the day. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to be keeping you. I can go back inside if you want to run by yourself,” I offer and even before I finish talking, I’m pushing to stand up. 

“No, no you’re fine!” He’s quick to reassure me. “Please, stay. Actually if you want you could join me, it might help you clear your mind.”

I consider for a moment before deciding to agree. There couldn’t be much harm in it, it was still at least another hour before most people would get up for the day and I didn’t have anything better to do. 

While we run I can’t help glancing over to James, who’s clearly in his own world.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, slowly illuminating our path. At one point the sun is behind James when I steal another glance at him, and the way the light catches on his features makes him look like a real life angel.

James proves to be right, the run did help me to clear my mind. When we stop back where we had started I’m feeling significantly lighter than before, even if I am breathing significantly heavier. 

“That was… fun,” I am slow to admit. “Thank you, Potter.”

“Anytime, darling.” He gives me another goofy smile. “Feel free to join me whenever you like, I come out at the same time everyday.”

“I just might take you up on that.”

─

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I take James Potter up on his offer every day for a week straight. I quickly come to enjoy the ritual of it, waking up before dawn, sneaking out of my dorm, getting the fresh air and clearing my mind before the day. 

James’s presence was a reassuring one, even if we didn’t always talk much. I had the sense that he would listen to anything I needed to say and offer encouragement. 

As our OWLs loom ever closer I come to rely on our runs to center me in the mornings more and more, but I also question how long James will continue to let me join him. He never says anything to indicate he doesn’t want me to join, though, so I take him at face value and keep meeting him under our tree every morning. 

─

The night before we’re to start our OWLs I find myself unable to sleep for even a minute. Of course this wasn’t a problem for my dorm mates who had fallen asleep at least two hours ago. 

I toss and turn, thinking that maybe if I could just get comfortable I could get to sleep. Of course I have no such luck. Eventually I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures. 

I don’t have to worry about being too quiet as I climb out of my bed, pull on a jumper, and slip on my sneakers. I’ve mastered this routine from sneaking out for my morning runs. 

Two years prior Narcissa was sniffling and sneezing her brains out, but didn’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey for medicine. Andromeda insisted we could take care of her ourselves, she just needed a good, hot cup of tea to clear her system. I never knew where she learned it, but she showed me a way to slip into the kitchens undetected. She then showed me which cabinet to find the herbs in, and also which herbs were the right ones. And then she showed me how to use the kettle. 

It was amazing how much better Narcissa was able to sleep after she finished her cup of tea, and the next day she was right as rain. I quickly became obsessed with the simple magic behind a “good cup of tea” and asked Andromeda to tell me everything she knew about the different recipes and ingredients. When her knowledge proved to be rather limited I went on a rampage in the library until I was satisfied─ a good two weeks later. 

My plan was a simple blend to help me sleep and settle my nerves. Chamomile and cinnamon was sounding particularly tasty, although I was considering whether I might like lavender with rosemary more. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice at first there was already someone else in the kitchens. Thankfully when I did I only jumped a little. 

Confused, I stared at Sirius Black as he took a kettle off one of the stoves. He gave me an amused look in return. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He guessed.

“No, I’m quite afraid not.”

He gave me a sad smile in understanding. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cup,” he offered. I can’t say why I listened, but I did. Maybe in a moment of weakness before a highly stressful event I didn’t care that I didn’t know him much, I just wanted to let someone take care of me. 

“Any preference on what kind?” He asks.

“Hmm, I was debating between chamomile with cinnamon or lavender with rosemary,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I proceed to list off my many thoughts on the benefits of each ingredient and what might best suit my current situation. 

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Sirius has made a decision for me and already started steeping the herbs in the water. I’ve somehow veered off onto what might make a good combination if Sirius was having a headache, or if his headache was caused by a cold and he had other symptoms what could help with that. 

To his credit, he never once interrupts or even looks bored. In fact the entire time he seems to regard me with mild amusement, and I begin to get the impression that everything he encounters in life amuses him. 

I don’t even stop rambling about tea when he sets my cup in front of me. After taking a sip, I start to tell him how very fond I am of lemon balm, then pause when I finally realize the cup of tea is already made. 

For the first time since Sirius asked what kind of tea I wanted, he is finally given a chance to say something. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”

I scoff at his suggestion. “Don’t be absurd, Slytherins can be just as studious as Ravenclaws, we just typically hold our cards a little closer to our chest.”

“Right.” He nods. “This was you holding your cards close to your chest?” He then questions.

“Well it’s not like there’s any great secret behind tea. And besides, even if I haven’t been able to sleep I am quite tired.” A yawn escapes me just then to prove my point. “Narcissa always complains about my tendency to ramble when I’m tired.”

“Why would she complain? I found it rather entertaining,” he says, lightheartedly. Even though his tone has a hint of joking to it, I feel like he’s being honest. 

I give him a small smile before taking another sip from my cup. It’s still quite hot, but the flavors are still strong. “Mmm, this is quite delicious,” I compliment. “Is it chamomile with… rosemary?” 

Sirius gives me a proud grin. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he jokes. A smile falls on my face. 

“What have you made for yourself?” I ask, glancing at his cup. 

“Vanilla and rose.” 

“That sounds lovely. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before.”

“James’s mum makes it for us all the time. Do you want to try a sip?” He offers. I nod quickly and he passes over his cup. Sure enough it’s a delightful mixture. I tell him such and he tells me the measurements so that I can make it for myself. 

“So what’s keeping you up on this otherwise peaceful night?” Sirius asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan. He looks at me dumbly, confused as to what the obvious answer might be. “We start our OWLs tomorrow,” I scoff. 

“Merlin, you can’t really be this stressed about it.” He sounds disbelieving, though I’m not sure why. 

“I can and I am,” I say, matter-of-factly. He rolls his eyes and turns to begin putting away the tea kettle. “Why are you up, if not because of the OWLs?” I then ask.

“Not for any good reason. Have always had trouble sleeping,” he says, but the tightness in his voice, and the way he tugs at a lock of hair behind his ear tells me there’s something else he doesn’t want to share. I can’t fault him for that, though. “Which of your OWLs do you feel most prepared for?” He asks after a moment of tense silence. 

It throws me off for just a second. Most people want to know which test I’m most nervous for, want to know what area I’m weakest in, where the chip in my armor is so that they might strike there. I consider for a moment, not wanting to say something that I end up bombing. Eventually, I decide on my favorite subject. Sirius seems to accept that answer without pushing any further, so I turn it on him. 

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answers almost immediately. “I want to be an auror,” he brags. 

I roll my eyes at the proud smirk on his face. “Of course you do.”

“Well? What do you want to be?” Sirius asks as if expecting a lame answer such as archivist. 

“My parents want me to be an alchemist,” I reply in what I would guess is a lame answer.

“That’s great for them, what do you want to be, though?” Looking into his eyes at that moment feels as if he’s staring into my soul. 

“I… I don’t know,” I mumble slowly and my brows furrow. I can’t help but look at my cup of tea, half empty at this point. No one had ever asked me what I wanted before, not when it came to something so major. It was always assumed I would follow the path my parents laid for me. 

When I find the courage to look back up to Sirius he has a sympathetic look on his face. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.

In return, Sirius’s face pinches in anger. “I wasn’t looking at you any type of way,” he defends.

“Yes, you were, you had this look on your face like you were sad for me,” I accuse. “Don’t be sad for me.”

“I’m not sad for you─”

“Good, because you have no reason to be. My life is great and everything is perfectly fine.” The way I say it even Sirius can tell that I’m trying to convince myself more than him at this point. I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to say something about how I’m a great witch and I’m meant to be an alchemist, but another voice in my head whispers to explain how I really feel.

“Look,” I start, then trail off. 

“It’s complicated,” he finishes for me. “I get it. I’m sure you know about my family, you know I get it.” His voice is so soft as he talks to me, as if I’m a frightened animal. But despite my flaws I am still a Slytherin, and I do not appreciate being treated like a frightened animal. 

“Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so self-absorbed they assume everyone knows their tragic tale of woe. Maybe instead of staying up late to make tea and trying to relate to girls you hardly know you should work on your form for your smokescreen spell.” The words spill out of me before I even consider them. I don’t even take the time to be shocked at my outburst. Instead I storm off. 

“Yeah, you’re one to talk about self-absorbed, Princess!” He shouts at my back. I nearly flinch at the nickname, but keep going out of the kitchens and straight back up to my dorm.

─ 

The morning before the first day of our OWLs testing I follow my same routine. I wake up early to run with James, and he tries to ask if I’m feeling alright, but I brush him off and neither of us acknowledges the way I push myself harder on this run than I ever had before. 

After our run, I go back up to my dorm to shower and get ready for the day. My dorm mates still haven’t caught on yet that I’ve started getting up hours earlier. They do ask if I’m feeling flush and press their hands to my forehead, though. I shove them off with a grumbled, “I’m fine,” and shove my things for the day into my bag. 

In the Great Hall I can hardly stomach a plain slice of toast, but I just manage to get it down with some orange juice. I feel a bit queasy, but today is too important to pay that feeling any mind. 

On my way to the first test of the day, I think back to Remus’s reassuring words from our study session the night before. 

“Look, I know trying to reassure you that you’ll do great won’t get through to you, even if I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Remus says softly, almost hesitantly. “Instead I hope you know that it will be okay if you aren’t perfect.” My heart hits my stomach and I drop my quill. I start to shut down, prepare to lash out. Why would he say that? He thinks I won’t be perfect? 

“Maybe other people will have different opinions, but I will still be your friend and I know that everything will turn out okay for you.”

Oh. My heart flutters back to life. We’re friends? 

For once in my life, I do not lash out at someone for trying to get closer to me, for saying something honest that I wasn’t ready to hear. 

I give him a sad smile. “Thanks, Remus.” I pause for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” I whisper. Then, because I’m not sure how to proceed after that, I stiffly turn back to my notes. Remus, ever the gentleman, goes back to his book and doesn’t push me any further. 

I don’t think anyone had ever told me before that it was okay to be anything less than perfect, but his words become my mantra for the day. 

“It will be okay if I’m not perfect,” I think to myself as I walk into the classroom. 

I take a seat next to Narcissa. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

The professor instructs us to start. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

I read over every question three times. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

I double check each of my answers. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

I finish the last question. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

I walk up to the front of the class and turn in my test. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

As I leave the classroom I’ve almost convinced myself that it will be okay if I’m not perfect. 

My stomach begins to churn and I walk straight to the nearest bathroom, into one of the stalls, and promptly begin to lose my breakfast. I hear the door open behind me when I’ve stopped heaving. 

“Think you’ve found yourself in the wrong bathroom, Princess,” someone says mockingly. Footsteps come closer to me. “Oh shit, are you okay?”

I hadn’t bothered to lock the stall door behind me, so I’m able to turn and see Sirius Black. Again. I give him a horrified look. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing in the girls’ room?” I nearly shout at him.

“Actually you’re the one who’s walked into the boys’ room,” he informs me. I give him a disbelieving look until he shifts and my gaze falls on a line of urinals behind him. My face blushes profusely and I stare at Sirius, mortified. He gives me a pitying look. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’re clearly not feeling well. Stay there for a moment.”

Still in shock, I stay put. I hear the sink running for a moment, then Sirius comes back with a damp towel. He hands it to me to wipe my face. 

“Thanks,” I murmur. 

“Don’t sweat it,” he replies. With a tender hand, he helps me to my feet when I’m ready. “Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey, then.”

“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. It must’ve just been something I had at breakfast,” I lie. 

Sirius gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve clearly worried yourself sick and we both know it.”

I don’t reply as I follow him out of the bathroom. My plan was to start going in the direction of the hospital wing, then double back to the library to keep studying. Sirius’s plan was to follow me.

“I’m more than capable of walking myself to the hospital wing,” I say tersely. 

“And I’m more than capable of walking with you. I’m glad we’ve determined our abilities for this excursion.” 

I shoot him a glare that would scare off most other people. Sirius doesn’t even blink at me. My new plan: ignore Sirius as he insists on walking me to see Pomfrey. 

“How did you feel about it?” He asked after a moment. 

I don’t respond. 

“I personally thought some of the questions were a bit repetitive, like I had to explain myself multiple times.” 

I stay strong. 

“But maybe that’s a bad sign that I didn’t do as good as I thought.” 

Just keep staring straight ahead, he has to shut up eventually, I think to myself. 

“On the second question─”

“Would you just shut up already?” I snapped. I was stressed enough over how I did without reliving it with someone I didn’t even like. 

Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “Someone’s cranky,” he says with a laugh.

“I am not cranky, I just don’t particularly care to discuss the test with you.” My eyes roll of their own volition. 

“What should you care to discuss then?” He asks. 

“With you? Not much.” Maybe if I can discourage him enough he’ll grow bored and wander off. 

“It’s a bit of a trek to the hospital wing from here, though, and I’ve found conversation to be a great way to pass time.” Of course, I should know that Gryffindors are not so easily discouraged.

“I’ve found that there’s no reason for you to walk all the way to the hospital wing with me.” 

“Wow, are you like this all the time?” He finally snaps back.

“Like what?” I pretend to be ignorant. 

He scoffs at me. “Rude, Princess. Are you always so rude?”

I flare up at the nickname. The way he says it, it feels like he knows I don’t like it. 

“Nobody asked you to pester me,” I say. 

“Most people would consider this an act of kindness, not pestering.”

“How unfortunate for you that I am not like most people.” 

“It would do you a bit of good to learn something from them, maybe you could start with some manners.”

“I’m perfectly well mannered, thank you very much. You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you I was fine to walk by myself, and you’re the one working yourself up by staying with me when you could bug off to literally anywhere else.” With that I begin to speed up to leave him behind.

Sirius actually stops for just a moment, as if really considering my words. Then he rushes to catch up to me. “No, I want to know what’s so bloody great about you,” he says. 

I give him a strange look. “I never claimed for anything to be so great about me.”

“Maybe not but you sure act like it, so tell me: what is so bloody great about you? What makes you so special that you think yourself better than everyone else here?”

It’s my turn to stop in my tracks. “Who the hell said I think I’m better than everyone?”

“No one has to say it, Princess.” The way he says Princess feels like venom on his tongue. 

I want to hit him. Punch him in the face and give him a great bloody nose. I want to hex him. Maybe knock him off his feet. I want to scream at him. Scream that I don’t think myself better than everyone, that I’m just an imposter pretending to be perfect all the time. 

It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was eleven and my family was getting ready to drop me off at Hogwarts for the first time. 

“Do not cry, darling, it’s unbecoming,” my mother says to me. “Soon you will be sorted into Slytherin and prepare to continue your family’s legacy. You must show strength at all times, even if you do not feel it. We can not be perceived as weak.”

A single tear snakes out of the corner of my eye and down the apple of my cheek. I look down and it falls to the ground by my feet. Another tear falls, and before I know it I am fully crying. I start to struggle to breathe. 

When I look back up to Sirius he looks terrified. He must think he’s what’s made me cry. The truth is it’s the last five years that have built up to weigh on me continually. It’s the way my life was gilded and no one had ever cared to look below the surface until a few weeks ago when Remus Lupin offered to help me study. Until James Potter offered to go for a run. Until Sirius Black offered me a cup of tea. 

My quiet tears begin to turn into choked sobbing as I realize how sad my life really was, that these three Gryffindors had shown me a kind of genuine caring that I hadn’t known could exist. 

Hesitantly, Sirius takes my hand to lead me over to a nearby bench so I can sit down and try to collect myself. It takes several minutes for me to control my breathing, and several more for my tears to subside. I finally look down to notice that I’m still holding Sirius’s hand, that I’d actually been holding it quite firmly. 

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I release his hand from my grasp. “You were right. Everything is so very complicated.”

Sirius gives me that same look he did last night, and I realize. He wasn’t sad for me, he understood me. But how was it fair that he would get to leave, when his brother and I were left behind with our authoritarian families? Selfishly, I think maybe he could show me the way.

I sit there, lost in my thoughts, for a long while. Sirius stays with me. Eventually the bells toll to indicate it was time for lunch. When I glance up at Sirius, he’s already looking at me. 

“Can I make you an offer?” He asks. 

I grow weary at his words. “I would suppose that depends on what the offer is.”

“Well, your eyes are red and swollen and you’ve got mascara tracked down your cheeks,” he starts and I grow horrified as I realize what I must look like. There was no way I could go into the Great Hall looking like the mess I surely am. He lets out a small laugh at my expression. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll grab us some lunch from the Great Hall. We can meet in the south courtyard.”

I was amazed that even after I’d been so mean to him, he would still be so kind to me. 

“That would be quite nice actually. Thank you,” I reply softly. 

Sirius gives me a swift nod, then helps me to stand up. We go our separate ways, me to my dorm to wash my face and apply some fresh mascara and concealer, and Sirius to the Great Hall. 

─

I’ve just sat down in a corner of the courtyard for a couple minutes when Sirius shows up. I try not to look too shocked when James and Remus appear with him. Of course, I knew they were all friends, they went galavanting around the entire school proclaiming themselves marauders, but I’d never interacted with all three of them together. 

It suddenly occurs to me that they likely share a dorm, and very well could have planned this all to be some grand prank on me. But they had all seemed so genuinely kind to me until this point, and I was so tired of constantly second guessing everyone’s intentions. I decided that if this were some prank I would let them have their fun at me, then show them the real wrath of Slytherin. 

The three of them quickly set up a small picnic and begin lighthearted conversation. James compliments the way my hair looks today. Sirius teases James for the way his hair looks everyday, although I would argue it flatters him I don’t say that aloud. Remus gives me a knowing look as the two begin bickering. 

Spending time with the three of them is easy, and feels right. Like it was always meant to be the four of us all together. None of them mentions my earlier breakdown, or even anything to do with our tests. I wonder what Sirius told them before they all came out here. Whatever it was, none of them shows me any judgment so I can guess he must have skipped over my rude behavior. 

I’m sad when the bells ring again to signify the end of lunch. We clean up our area of the courtyard, then head back inside. Over the course of my time with the boys I feel my spirits lifted significantly, feeling much better and ready to face the next two weeks of tests. 

It will be okay if I’m not perfect, I think to myself again, and this time I really do believe it. Because even if I’m only just getting to know Remus, James, and Sirius, I know that they are my friends and they’ll be there for me.

[g1rlken]

⊹ ࣪˖Dreadful Birthdays⊹ ࣪˖

Felix catton x rich fem!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, shitty father, death of a parent, hurt comfort, childhood trauma, curse words?

Summary: start of a friendship on a lie to umbrella issues with opening up, fluff?

Standing outside, away from the party in a quieter atmosphere to attend a phone call in the small of the currently empty smoking zone garden outside the pub. Wearily y/n paced around in small steps as she talked on the phone, “But why?” She asked in distressed as voice on the other line seemed to reason something. “My break’s not that long I can’t come next month! You said-“ she was cut off with a reply on the call midway.

“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?” She argued yet a faint softness remained in her tone despite her frustration. “This is really unfair-you can’t do this to me last minute-“ the ongoing call was declined from the other like halfway through her sentence as she heard the monotone beep. She felt like throwing her phone on the ground, instead she kicked the metal vase instead. “Fucking arsehole!” She cursed to herself as a clearing of throat made her turn her head.

“Everything alright out here?” Felix asked her, he’d came out for a cigarette in the smoking zone but happened to listen the last of whatever ordeal she was going through with someone on the phone and seemed hugely upset about it.

“Oh-uh yeah.” She nodded hastily somewhat embarrassed he may have heard that and her swearing at the metal vase. Felix didn’t exactly know her, but y/n did. Like everyone’s dynamic with the ever so charming Felix.

“You’re..” he trailed off trying to remember her name because he did recognise her from some of their past meetings and he’d seen her around campus often, “Y/n? Yes y/n right? You were the TA last semester who returned assignments with stickers.” He mentioned and chuckled slightly.

“I’ve gained a reputation with the English majors?” She joked raising her brows with a small smile, surprised he remembered her.

“Rightfully so.” He nodded smiling, “I’m Felix.” He introduced himself lending out his hand for her to greet as she accepted but let out a huff.

“I know you.” She said in an obvious tone and reciprocated the smile on his face.

“So who was the fucking arsehole on the phone?” Felix inquired curiously given she didn’t seem so composed just a few moments ago.

“Oh that-“ she paused taking in a deep breath for a second, she contemplated a whole coursework worth of thoughts and stories on wether or not to tell him the truth. “It’s was my boyfriend…” she trailed off, lying. “Stupid argument.” She added feeling awfully strange what it was that came over her to outrightly lie.

“What happened?” He asked, now interested as he leaned by the table and lit a cigarette offering her the second puff.

She took him up on the offer for his cigarette as she took a moment to think through her supposed lie “It’s nothing huge really…” she said trying to downplay is so he would maybe not be interested in it.

“Come on, honour the cig.” He urged her with his charm as she took another drag and retuned his cigarette to him.

Coming up with a hastily put together story, “I’m long distance with my boyfriend currently, he’s uh studying code in Estonia and he was coming here so we could spend the summer break together” she sighed. “But he signed up on a project there and bailed on me last minute.” She briefed him feeling proud and miserable of herself for having a peculiar story like that right off the top of her head.

“What an arsehole indeed” he replied matching her frustration as he scoffed “How dare he sign up a stupid project with a girlfriend as pretty as you?” Felix gave her his chivalrous smile, knowingly flirting with her but her boyfriend was a douche so it was alright.

“How awfully kind of you.” Y/n said playfully rolling her eyes at him as their night progressed in dumb conversations of here and there it was 4 in the morning by the time the pub waiter asked them to leave. They talked until sunrise and that is how y/n befriended Felix.

Despite the lie that the actual phone conversation was with her father and not a fake boyfriend in Estonia like she told him, “Then you can fly in for the weekend after this month, we’ve got a big launch for the company and if you’re here then the PR team will want you at the inauguration and I don’t want that. I don’t want you around on big company occasions, too much trouble as it is.” Her father said sternly on the phone, the rich were shallower than it seemed.

“Why do you always do this? Why does it always have to be this way?”

“Stop being so dramatic and grow up for a second” he told her off sighing, “You are not wanted here. You can’t come home now, I don’t want you to be associated with the company whatsoever. I don’t want the ‘dad’ rep on me with you. Simple as that.” He said to her harshly as he pronounced the word you in an exaggeratedly disgusted sense. As she tried to whine more about how unfair it was to her last minute he simply declined the call not wanting to handle any more of her tantrums.

-

Those two weeks of her friendship with felix blossomed and proved to be rather wholesome. Y/n was genuinely glad for his company, the charm of him could never make one feel unwanted. Felix hated not having his new friend for all of summer, it took quite a lot of convincing and begging on his side to get her to come to saltburn with him. Firstly y/n was really unsure if she could do so given they had been friends for just two weeks despite the closeness of their bond. Secondly if her father found out about her rendezvous, not that he’d care whatever she was upto but he would be mad if it could somehow bring a bad light upon him. Which in itself was a rare case because as felix stated his estate was in a remote place and she felt she could live her summer on her terms.

“You are crushing my eyes!” She exclaimed giggling as felix tightly held his palm over her eyes and his other hand guiding her through the large hallway to the decorated living room, for her. It was a well planed surprise so he didn’t want her looking through the gaps of her fingers at the last moment before the whole thing.

“Just a second” He told her as y/n felt him guiding her into a room where the conversations silenced themselves when he entered with her. Finally he pulled his hand away and held her from her shoulders. “Surprise!” The entire room echoed as confetti spread across the elegant happy birthday decorations. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out if you didn’t tell me?!” He exclaimed laughing as leaned forward from behind her and wrapped his arm around her.

Y/n was overcome with emotions as everyone cheered on happy birthday and surprise, Farleigh still bursting the confetti cracker. Felix attempted to walk across the room to take the covered plate from his hands,“How’d you know?” She held his wrist to stop him and asked him, hugely struck with the surprise.

“Your TA, I-card which you wore around like a badge of honour, it had your birth date mentioned.” He told her as he laughed and gave her a side hug when Elspeth approached her. Felix paced away for a moment to get the cake from Duncan.

“Felix shall throw you a godawful themed party or so later but I wanted to cherish you in a more traditional manner.” She said warmly as she held her by her face and kissed her forehead, the traditionalism of birthdays was long lost with the children growing up into party animals however the grand hall could have used a soft and sober gathering of the occasion of a birthday. Besides she really liked y/n, amongst all of felix’s wild friends she was awfully gorgeous and tender of heart.

“Thank you-“ Was all she could reply, extremely overwhelmed at this moment. “Really-“ she added feeling her gratitude shortening but nobody in this room would realise how big this was for her. She was soon pulled away with all the birthday hugs and warm wishes, a room full of people..gathering at 12 to celebrate her? With her? This was the hardest breakdown she had ever had to fight back.

Venetia pulled her to the table where Felix rearranged the candles on her cake for the final time. The sight of the cake with her name, the hugs she was receiving. She couldn’t hold it in anymore as tears brimmed her eyes. “Hey” Felix noticed as he leaned a bit lower to look at her eyes when she looked away confirming tears welled up her eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh, it was adorable to note how sensitive she was. “Hey…come here!” He pulled her into his embrace with his arms holding her from the side.

“Come on!” Venetia laughed along as she fixed y/n’s hair “don’t cry, you want your pictures perfect.” She said trying to cheer her up.

“God I’m sorry-“ she said shaking her head and pulled away from felix’s embrace as they sat next to each other by her birthday cake and everyone around them, “I’m just—I’m really touched by this, I-I don’t think I can come up with words that could hold my gratitude right now…” she said through her tears as felix chuckled wiping them “Truly, this means the world to me-you’ve all shown me such affection and-I-“

“By the time you finish that speech we’re all going to be in dentures” Farleigh said growing impatient and received an elbow via Venetia.

“Im sorry-this is just very thoughtful of everybody…” y/n said with a chuckle as she wiped her tears yet the hurt in heart where they came from lingered alongside the joy of such experience.

“Blow the candles!” Felix encouraged as he rubbed her back. She was about to when she was urged to make a wish. Closing her eyes with a big smile on her face she did so and the celebration furthered. Just another cake cutting at saltburn was going to be the most treasured memory for y/n.

-

Later that night, almost two in the morning the birthday giggles hadn’t yet died down as y/n lounged with felix in her guest room. She sat legs crossed by the stone bay window as the moonlight reflected through the room. “You really love that cake don’t you?” Felix commented leaning back on the chair across her as he laughed.

“It’s my birthday cake!” She exclaimed emphasising on the word my. It was as it is her third plate of the night.

“Whatever the birthday girl wants.” Felix said chuckling and remembered “Hey has our Mr.Arsehole called yet?” He asked and leaned backwards to look at the time on the clock, as her boyfriend he should’ve called her when the clock struck midnight.

Her face fell at the mention of it, she was planning to tell him sooner or later that she made that up. But she was looking to end that facade at a better time, it had been over a month now searching for that better time. She couldn’t keep her best friend in the dark like this. “Look I have to tell you something about that…”

“You guys broke up?” He asked almost instantly as if he was hoping for it however he kept his tone neutrally curious.

“I don’t have a boyfriend who’s studying in Estonia” she breathed as she sat her plate aside “I-I made that up when we met.” Felix was dumbfounded for a second he couldn’t wrap his head around what she was trying to say. “Look…when we met I just wanted to seem like an interesting person to you I didn’t think we’d become friends like this-“

“And this whole time you didn’t think you should tell me?” He inquired sternly as a frown fell on his face. Felix felt as enraged as he did hurt, “I’d never have considered you to be a two faced person like that!” He scorned standing up from his seat to account for his frustration.

“I’m not!” Exclaiming she replied sensing the rightful hurt and anger radiating off of him, “Felix, seriously I was planning to tell you about this.”

“When? When were you planning to tell me huh?” He asked as he rested his hands on his waist demanding an answer.

She didn’t have an answer for that because she knew this conversation would lead a follow up conversation which would require her to explain about her father to him, that situation is what she was running from. “I..I am sorry felix.” She said. She felt awful not being able to say ‘hear me out.’ Because he so clearly wanted to, he wanted the rational explanation she had but couldn’t tell him.

“Sorry?” He scoffed looking away for a second, “Who was it then? On the phone that night?” He seethed and waited for her to reply, everything within him begged for her to come up with an explanation which would make his feelings for her warranted for again. He had those this entire time, he’d known her boyfriend and her would eventually break up. He was looking forward to this moment ever since he met her but this was the most unideal situation.

Y/n’s silence agitated him even more so, he couldn’t stomach he’d have to let go off his feelings for her. It had been a long while he’d felt like this for someone, this deeply and unwaveringly and he could feel his heart having to say goodbye to it all soon enough and he hated that she couldn’t even reply or meet his gaze. “You owe me an explanation y/n! Just tell me who was on the phone.”

Her gaze as fixated on the floor as she felt the world crumble around her, it felt like standing in the ruins. She created herself, the pattern wasn’t unknown to her. “It was my father.” She told him, however much she wanted to lie with something else she felt like she’d reached a dead end. “I’m not on the best terms with him” and I didn’t want you to see me as another spoilt brat that night, I didn’t want you to think I’m another awful ungrateful child, I didn’t want to open up then as I don’t now.

“And? How so” He asked, it felt like he had to push it out of her to speak but he would, with two strides he reached upto her seat and held her face in his hands, “I am not asking a lot of you am I? Why are you doing this to me? I want your hurt and your truth as raw as it is, I want it as I want all of you, fairly I deserve it. Please. Please talk to me y/n.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she held his hands in hers and pulled them away from her face. The desperation in his voice made it worse as she stood out of her seat.

“I was..I was supposed to go home, back to New York for summer. But my father cancelled it last moment.” She told him with a sigh turning slightly to the side from him, she could not say this to his face without breaking down. Opening up felt like being knifed from the inside. “And I was talking to him about it on the phone, I just didn’t want to tell you then.”

“Why did he cancel it?” He asked and moved her to face him.

By now she realise she couldn’t beat around the bush this way, he wouldn’t move past this and she couldn’t lie now “He said I’m not wanted back home.” She told him redirecting her father’s words. “He had a big launch for the company, it’s bad PR for him and he doesn’t like me around on big occasions.”

“What about your mum?” He asked softly and noticed how she felt silent to muster up proper words.

“My mum’s not—“ y/n breathed “she died giving birth to me. Labor complications at the hospital” she said as mildly as she could, this was her truth, the loss that defined her and it was strange how it hurt the same narrating it each time.

Felix was speechless as his gaze softened it took a lot in him to fathom her grief because she never looked it, “that’s why you got emotional back there, with the surprise.” He thought out loud.

“Yeah my dad forbade it…celebrating my birthday.” She mentioned, she’d grown up to digest it too. Who would deserve a celebration on the day their mother died?

“What about as a child?” He asked really shocked, he got the idea she was emotional and probably didn’t have the best birthdays but absolutely none?

“Not really, my nanny would get me cupcakes with candles till I was six and I was a sheltered kid so that was an ideal birthday to me” she said plainly “But I was-I think I turned 11, the house help with our kitchen staff organised me a small party it was on the kitchen table, balloons and chocolate cake…but my dad got home early that day, he tore down the happy birthday banner, threw the cake and the gifts, fired the staff and I was grounded, I haven’t really celebrated since.”

“At eleven?” He said taking in a sharp breath, it was more than a difficult life for a child to grow up without their mother and have a father like hers. “That’s just cruel”

“My birthday is a dreadful day for him, he loved my mum very much” she said trying to give him the reasoning she gave herself. Both of them were sitting on the floor cross legged leaning by the wall.

“You were a child. He resents your birthday’s enigma in the shadow of his grief.” Felix told her.

“He was a different man once, before me” she tried explaining it to him, despite of how resentful her father was to her how uncaring she wanted to be at the end of the day it was the only parent and only family she’d known all her life. Even her father yelling at her was the sound of her home. “The enigma of my birthday..” she repeated his words with a dejected huff “won’t change the fact that I’m the reason his wife isn’t in this world.”

Felix personally took an offence in that. Her father’s indifference had seeped that poison into her “Absolutely not.” He told her sternly and took her hands in his, “none of it was your fault. You didn’t ask to be born, but as his daughter you’re his daughter. His blood. He treats you with resentment that is a lack in his character. With the loss of his wife he also gained you…a daughter he was supposed to cherish.” He told her what she had to hear but he didn’t mean for her to cry again, opening up was difficult enough for her as it is. Enlacing his arms around her he pulled her into his lap and rubbed her back as she wept in his arms. Soothing sweet nothings he kissed the top of her head rocking her back and forth. “The world gained one of the purest souls with you.” He told her and pulled away to look at her face. Her eyes were full of tears as he wiped them again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “and if it wasn’t for you I’d have never felt this deeply for anyone.” He told her as it warmed her heart with all the pain through it and in his arms, for now, the world seemed just fine.

—

HIIII this is a new acc and English isn’t my first language also I’m a struggling stem major who writes to get over a bad test, pls be kind🙏

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND GO DRINK WATER NOW

[strawberrynightmare]

Mikey, Baji & Inupi getting whacked while they're trying to wake you up

Content warning: These take place during/after a sleepover! Tickling, something awful happens in Mikey's fic

Mikey

~Modern problems require modern solutions 🤠

~Late, late in the night, you were playing all kinds of games. Cards, truth or dare, illuminati, board games, video games, fire boy and water girl, you name it. Mikey was reaching the peak of competitiveness and you were not far behind.  

~And you would have been long knocked out had it not been for the sugar rush the two of you were on. Needless to say… the two of you were more than a bit hyperactive. 

~It was good after two am that a blood-curling crisis made its way into your blissful playtime. 

The two of you looked at each other in horror, as if to make sure you were not imagining things. But this dreadful situation went beyond human imagination. After a few minutes of deadly silence, your lover spoke in a quiet, shaky voice. 

“We ran out of snacks.”

~Even though the two of you stocked up so well beforehand, it was all gone now. After some good 15 minutes of crying about it, a rock paper scissors match began. Of course, the loser had to go through the hardships of getting their ass up, dressing up, going to the nearest 24/7 convenience store and buying some more food. 

~And he lost.

~As he dragged himself through the room, you could swear it looked like he was going to his own execution. He mumbled under his breath but the two of you were so out of it, you didn’t care and he didn’t even know what he was mumbling in the first place.

~He was back pretty soon but still found you passed out on the floor of his room. Your boyfriend didn’t think much about it when he began to gently kick your side. 

“Wake up, y/n I’ve got your favourite cookies.” ~Guy who looked and sounded like a zombie

~He knelt down to unpack the two bags of snacks while continuing to nudge you with his hand. And next thing he knew was a kick to his jaw as you shifted from laying on your back to your side. 

~He blinked a few times, instinctively touched his chin, sat there for a while, then stood up to turn off the light and fell asleep next to you. 

~Via the two of you trying to figure out how he got a bruise on his jaw after you woke up. 

Baji

~Aaand he took that personally 🙄

~It was definitely not a great idea to have a sleepover at his house on a Wednesday, but he got a bit impatient. For three whole days, you listened to him complaining about not sleeping well and insisting that the cure would be you sleeping over. 

~”What is it? I’m telling you, my mom likes you anyways. And if I sleep well, my grades will be better too!”

You’ve slept well for so many years, and the good grades were never in sight.”

”That’s foul, y/n!”

~In the end you settled for a study sleepover. Instead of messing around, the plan was to study together for some time and then go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Yeah, the plan was all it was.

~You were able to go through two pages of your textbooks before getting utterly distracted and doing whatever the hell you wanted. You ended up sneaking out even before the clock struck midnight and enjoyed the city basked in the night to your heart’s content. It was heavily past 2am when you came back and it was only because it started raining.

~Soon afterwards you fell asleep cuddling into his chest with his arm around your shoulder.

~And he recklessly followed you into the land of dreams without any awareness of what was going to happen in the morning. 

~He was woken up by his mother at the usual hour. Mrs. Baji brought you two breakfast straight into his room and as he was half awake, she urged him to wake you up as well. In a half-awake state, he barely began to complain and tell her to wake you up herself before she cut him off with “I tried”.

~In his defence, he thought that shaking your arms lightly and calling out your name would be enough to wake you up. Jokes on him, you didn’t even budge. He tried everything his mother ever used on him, taking away your blanket, rubbing your back, hell, he even tried to wake you up with a kiss - nothing worked.

~He was absentmindedly poking your cheek while trying to come up with something else. All he could think of was a glass of cold water or calling his friends. It was then that he suddenly got smacked in the face with a pillow. The force of the hit was enough to have him rolling out of the bed. His traitor pillow was dropped right next to him. All you did was roll onto your side. Still asleep. 

~If his loud ‘HAA????’ didn’t manage to wake you up, you might as well have been dead. Anyways, prepare because he took that as a declaration of war. How does a sleeping person prepare for anything

~He climbed back, pushed you onto your back and began to mercilessly tickle you in all the weak spots he was aware of. He even took a feather out of his pillow and began tickling your feet and that was the final straw, for you to wake up completely disoriented, fall from the bed and instinctively kick your boyfriend off the bed. Both of you ended up on the floor, but Baji didn’t even notice that. He was too busy patting himself on the back and praising his genius for managing to wake you up.

~All while he existed there in a half-conscious state, trying to comprehend the whole situation. 

~And then he dragged you to school. You were late because waking you up almost took him a whole hour. 

~Surprisingly, he managed to take the test and actually answer enough questions for you to consider him passing it. 

~So now he has an excuse to invite you in more often. Although he did learn to only do this on weekends so that you can sleep for as long as you wish, Sleeping y/n is the one person he’s too afraid to face again.

Inupi

~Bro gave up 💀

~It happened during a sleepover. The two of you were on the couch and watching a movie late in the night. He excused himself for a while when he noticed someone koko calling him. The call lasted longer than expected and when he came back, you were already asleep.

~All he wanted was to gently wake you up by rubbing your cheek so that you could move to his bigger and more comfortable bed. Totally not because he wanted to cuddle you. Not at all. 

~But then he got smacked with a pillow you  were clutching to your chest so hard, the force made him fall backwards and land on his ass. You were still asleep as he sat there, trying to comprehend what just happened. 

~He wasn’t even sure whether you were just pretending to sleep to take the sofa or it was really just you reacting to unwanted stimuli. 

~He sighed and simply went back to his room to gather the blankets and cushions. Then, he slipped a cushion under your head, gently fixed it into a more comfortable position and wrapped you up in a blanket. After that, he just made some adjustments for himself and sat next to you, leaning his body on yours.

~This fixed the issue the two of you always had. The issue was called ‘Who takes the bed?!’. While he insisted that you should take it, you insisted that it was his bed and you were fine with the couch. But he was also fine with the couch and he couldn’t just- sleep comfortably in his warm bed and make you sleep out there. Sharing the bed felt so intimate that none of you dared to suggest it although i know some of ya simps would jump at the first gotten chance to share a bed with him

~...So the two of you are now sharing a couch, but he swore that the next time, you’re taking the bed even if he has to drag you in there himself.

[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

☝️first part

👈previous part

👉 next part

☕🥐💕?

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part three

authors note: hi! its me again. i had some free time and most of this chapter was completed, sans gaps and editing, so i figured why not?

thank you everyone for all of the kind words, like im still so floored just how many people like the random shit that comes from my head!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angsttttt, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 4.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

You were sixteen years old the first time you drank alcohol. Truly, a result of peer pressure. Alcohol never seemed as amazing as your friends tried to preach it to be, not with the amount of hair you’d held back while your friends retched their entire days consumption in toilet bowls. 

Just didn’t seem all that appealing.

And then it was homecoming, and your school won the game, qualifying them for state. The whole town was in celebration, but no one was as lit as the football team. And, of course, dating the quarterback at the time and as cheer captain, your presence was damn near a requirement. High school politics and all.

So, you, Amir, and your closest friends spent the night house hopping, partying at one place for a little while before moving on to the next. And at some point, at some stop, you’d been convinced to try a beer. Honestly, it was disgusting as fuck, but a small part of you didn’t want to be the one prude of your group, so you downed it. And then another. Followed by another. Which preceded one more. 

And by the end of the night, you truly were white girl wasted.

You thank God that you had good friends at the time who made sure you made it home safely, because you absolutely did black out. Amir did too, hence him not being the one responsible for your care.

When you woke up that morning, the first thing you did was dart to the bathroom where you emptied your guts. The second? Panic. You were terrified of your mother finding out that not only had you engaged in underage drinking, literally violating the damn law, but you’d gotten so wasted that you blacked out. It was incredibly stupid and highly dangerous. Your chest tightened and stomach coiled at how she would react if and when she realized what you’d done.

That was the most scared and nervous you’ve ever been in your entire life.

Well, up until now.

Because all you can focus, think, and obsess about is the fact that Joe will be in your state, in your town, in your damn apartment in a matter of hours. He’d text you in the middle of the night a screenshot of his flight information indicating an arrival time much earlier than you were hoping for. 

Dread swept over as you sent him a message asking if he would stay at the same hotel he usually used when visiting, not that it got much use. He typically stayed with you during his visits. But, you offered to meet him there instead, feeling more comfortable if you were out of this setting, not in your apartment that had some type of reminder of Callie in damn near every room.

It took longer than you liked for him to respond, and his answer only served to increase your anxiety and trigger some anger.

No. I’m coming to you.

That was it, no explanation to your follow up texts which you know he read cause bastard had his read receipts on. Just radio silence.

That pissed you off even more, because why the hell was he ignoring you? Wasn’t he about to come talk to you about something anyway?

Oh.

Your stomach tightens. Not knowing what the hell he wants is driving you insane. You know why you reached out to him, but why did he seem so keen on speaking to you? It’d been nearly five years, what could have happened to trigger this sudden desire to reconnect?

And why the hell did he respond so quickly to your initial message? Truthfully, you expected no response whatever, convinced that he’d probably changed numbers after his massive increase in fame. Or, for him to at least hit you with the ‘who is this’? But, he didn’t, he called you and immediately knew who you were.

A tiny gasp leaves your mouth. That must have meant he still had your number saved, the same way you still have his in your contact list.

You….you don’t know what to make of that, don’t know what to make of it at all.

“Mommy, why am I spending the night with Aunt Mariah?”

Callie’s soft voice temporarily eases you from your panic, granted it also makes you aware of how she’s clearly unhappy about this. You know why too. Sundays are always your ‘special days,’ where you spend the entire day together doing the most random of things from baking, to playing game, to random dance parties that sometimes result in neighbors politely asking you to keep the noise down. It’s a tradition, and this is the first time since starting said tradition that it won’t be happening. 

Closing up her drawer where you were just digging for some pajamas for her, you move to sit next to her on her bed. Her head is down as she plays with the stuffed animal in her arms. “I’m sorry, baby. I know this is our day, but mommy just has some business she has to take care of.”

She keeps her head down, voice low. “Can’t you do it tomorrow?

Fuck. You hate disappointing her. “I wish, baby, but it can’t wait.” More like he won’t wait. You’re not sure what you would have proposed regarding a time to discuss, well, Callie, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the next damn day. “Hey, how about this? Why don’t you and I stay home tomorrow and have a special special day on Monday?”

At that, her head lifts, eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. “Really?”

“Yup. Mommy can take some time off, and you can miss a day of school. It won’t kill us.” You rarely ever take time off as it is, mostly because a teacher’s salary isn’t anything to write home about. You have to work your ass off to keep a roof over your and Callie’s head. But also….you’re not even sure what frame of mind you’re going to be in following this meeting with Joe, so better safe than sorry. “But only if we can watch The Lion King first.”

Clearly pleased with this compromise, she offers you her pink finger. “Deal!”

You two seal the deal with a pinky swear as you hold her into your side and sigh heavily. You wish that you two could stay like this forever. “I love you, Callie. Okay? Always remember that.”

________

“He’s what?”

You anxiously chew on the nasty ass protein bar Mariah offered you after you realized you’d barely had anything to eat today. It was a part of the latest dietary plan she was following, probably something she found from one of those weird ass dieting groups she was a member of on Facebook.

You loved Mariah, dearly, but as you two grew older, especially after having her baby boy, Micah, she’d become increasingly insecure about her body. Always the smaller, thinner, more athletic of the two, you knew that she struggled with how much weight she’d put on over the years, especially when her plan to drop the baby weight didn’t pan out. You're not sure she’s lost any of it, to be honest. 

It wasn’t even a massive weight gain, and truthfully, you thought curves suited her well. But, it didn’t matter what you thought. What mattered was how she felt, which wasn’t the best, despite your best efforts to build up her confidence.

“He’s coming into town,” you finally answer, debating if you should offer her the rest of this grass in bar form. Why the hell is it so damn grainy?

“Today? He’s coming into town today?” You nod. “I’m sorry, I must have missed a couple chapters.”

“More like volumes,” you murmurs, sourly. It’s a great opportunity for you to set aside the dirt bar and explain to her everything she’d missed, from Callie’s initial inquiry to your calling him, to him sending you an itinerary for a flight arriving in roughly three hours at this point.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, careful of her volume despite Micah and Callie being occupied in the living room watching Bluey. “What are you going to do? What are you going to say to him? This is….this is bad, girl.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You lay your head against her kitchen island and force yourself to take three, big, deep breaths. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

You hear her exhale. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious, Mo. I—” You lift your head and try your best not to cry. Tears won’t do anything to help the situation. “I don’t know what he wants, but it’s obvious he’s angry with me already, and I can’t imagine when I tell him about Callie that he’s gonna feel any better.”

“You think he’ll be upset?”

“Of course, he will.”

“No, not that. I mean, yeah definitely, about that. But, I mean, you know….that you kept her.” It takes a minute for you to process what she’s asking, and it’s a question you hadn’t thought about in some time.

You’d been so consumed about how upset he would probably be that you kept Callie hidden from him that you hadn’t considered the alternative. What if he was more upset she even existed in the first place?

The thought alone takes you to a dark place. Feelings of rejection and abandonment that you yourself experienced and probably haven’t fully processed. Feelings you swore with your life you’d always protect Callie from. 

And always will.

“Then he’ll continue to not be a part of her life.” Your voice is sound and resolute. Mariah also recognizes that all too familiar look of determination that fills your face. 

“But what will you tell her then?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” A motto, a mantra, an oath. You’ve hit hard times before and always pulled through. This will be no different. Whatever's needed to keep your daughter from the trauma you experienced, you’ll do. No matter what.

Mariah knows better than to try to reason with you right now, not that there’s a ton of that needed. As a mother herself, she fully understands the intrinsic desire and borderline need to protect your child. She just also knows that you can be stubborn, and when you put your mind to something, nothing and no one can change it.

She just wonders how that’s going to bode over with whatever is about to go down.

You finish off the conversation with thanking her again for her last minute availability. You know you could have asked your mom as well, but she would have had questions, questions you don’t have the answers for nor the desire to explain just what’s happening.

Hell, you don’t even fully know what’s happening. 

As the time gets closer, you realize you need to get home and straighten up. Maybe vacuum or some shit. 

“Will you call me before I go to bed?”

“Of course, I will, mama.” You push back some of her hair, hating to see her sad again. She’s wearing that pout that you just realized is similar to Joe when he scowls. Shoving that from your head, you add, “and don’t forget about our big day tomorrow.”

That seems to win you a small smile, enough to make you feel less shitty about ditching her, even if it’s completely beyond your control. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“You bet your butt it is, kiddo!” You bring her in for another hug, holding her close and tight. “I love you, Callie Bear.”

“I love you too, mama.” 

Callie expressing her love for you is the soundtrack in your head as you drive home and even as you move around your apartment, dusting and vacuuming. You even clean the baseboard, something you’re sure you haven’t done since you first moved in when you were 22. 

You even make the controversial decision to leave up the photos of Callie or both you and Callie together in the living room and don’t really do much to move aside the indicators that a child lives here. Like her toy bucket near the TV or pink kiddy cups lined up near the kitchen sink. 

It doesn’t make much sense to you to hide these things when the sole reason you even reached out is to make him aware of why those things are there and who they belong to. You’ve stopped letting yourself try to figure out why he wants to speak to you or why he’s upset, realizing it was only making your anxiety ten times worse to the point where you felt like you were going to vomit.

Recognizing you have some time before he arrives, you decide to take a shower that’s much longer than necessary and will probably have you upset at yourself when you get your next water bill. 

But, it’s a nice distraction. Being fresh, clean, and moisturized is always a nice pick me up. Granted, you find it almost silly as you struggle to figure out what to wear. It’s Joe. Not Beyonce. Also, your outfit should be the last thing on your mind, as you eventually settle on a graphic shirt and some shorts. 

And realizing you have nothing else to do, you plop down on the sofa and wait. Wait for whatever the hell is about to happen once you open that door. Strangely enough, your anxiety seems to be settling. Granted, you wonder if that’s being replaced with denial, because you’re also starting to tell yourself that it won’t be that bad.

It may not be, but that’s not a good hill to die on. Preferred but not reliable. 

Needing another distraction, you scroll aimlessly through your Instagram, liking a few posts of friends, family, and former classmates from both high school and college. It’s interesting seeing how everyone ventured down different paths, some homemakers, some business execs, and of course the aspiring musicians aka unemployed. 

And then there was you, the small town teacher raising her secret love child of a WWE superstar in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. 

Your stomach twisting and turning tells you the anxiety is returning, but it doesn’t have as much time to heighten because the doorbell rings.

He’s here.

There’s this irritating yet quiet ringing in your ears and anchor on your chest, both of which make it harder to untangle your limbs and move off the sofa. It’s like watching yourself slowly make your way to the door, the tremble in your hand noticeable as you undo the lock and start to turn the knob. 

I love you too, mama.

Callie’s sweet, reassuring voice floods into your head providing the sweet relief needed to return from dissociation and snap back to reality. Eyes shutting, you take another deep breath and carefully swing the door open.

Truth be told, you weren’t quite sure what you expected to feel upon seeing Joe again, not sure what you should feel. This was a reunion, but only in name. Nothing about him being at your doorstep was warm and inviting. That much is obvious by his stoic, unreadable facial expression, which isn’t entirely out of character. Contrary and both similar to his current heel portrayal, Joe has always been more on the quiet side, not as easy to read. More open and warm once you get to know him.

You’d found that out firsthand.

Taking in his countenance, you can’t avoid observing the rest of him. He’s somehow even bigger than the last time you saw him in person, almost taking up your doorway, rippling muscles on full display in the plain, black fitted shirt he wears. His hair is pulled back as usual, clean line up, and beard fuller than you remembered him liking it. He’s aged, obviously, but well. Very well.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you step to the side, allowing him inside. You hate how you close your eyes as you inhale his scent.

He always did smell so damn good.

The physical distractions dissipate when he’s inside, the door locked, and it’s just the two of you. 

You notice almost immediately how he seems to be intent on keeping his back toward you, playing it off by taking in your apartment. Not that much, if anything, has changed. He can’t be that damn interested. 

It was painfully clear that Joe was already frustrated with you just by his texts, but his anger is even more palpable in person, borderline suffocating. 

Just what the hell did you do to upset him so much?

Clearing your throat and crossing your arms over, you decide that someone needs to say something because this silent shit is not working for you.

But then Joe angles his body, still not looking toward you but something else. And that’s when your anxiety starts up all over again.

You watch him, intently, as he walks over to the side table near the sofa, the one that has pictures on it. 

Pictures of Callie. 

He picks one up, and you’ve never been so still in your life. It’s torture, not seeing how he’s looking, unable to read his facials, clueless to what he must be thinking. He’s quiet for too long, so you decide to bite the bullet and say something. 

“I—”

“Is she mine?”

Waves. Heavy, plunging waves of emotions splash at you with a ferocity that nearly floors you. His question, so simple, isn’t what you expected to leave his mouth. It’s posed so quietly, lowly, emotion evident but not enough for you to know which one. Anger? Sadness? Confusion?

It stumps you, and for a second, you try to convince yourself that he doesn’t mean what you deep down know what he means. 

“What–what are you talking about?”

He curses quietly, and you hear him say your name before he asks again in a dangerously calm voice, “is she mine?”

You recognize this tone, the tone he takes when he’s trying his best to tame his temper, but there’s no guarantee that he can. And that in and of itself is not a good sign, Joe rarely ever gets mad. He’s irritatingly adept at maintaining his composure in all situations. 

Except this one.

You just want to take a nap, take a break from all of this. Everything seems to be happening so fast, too fast. It wasn’t even 24 hours ago that Callie first asked about her father, and now the man is standing in front of you asking you to confirm she is his daughter. You’re so confused about everything. How could he tell so easily? You always said and thought she favored him, but did she favor him enough for him to take one look at her and know she’s his daughter?

That doesn’t even seem possible nor plausible. 

You have so many questions, but there’s no need in delaying the inevitable.

Rip the Band-Aid off.

“Yes.” 

It’s at that moment he finally decides to turn around, and you can see the moment it happens, the moment the floodgate of emotions rush through him like a tsunami. He’s shocked. He’s confused. He’s angry.

“How did you find out?” Putting the pieces together is a slow progress, but one that’s progressing nonetheless. He clearly came here with that question prepared and ready to launch. He knew about Callie, knew when you texted him, knew when he decided to call. Knew before he even walked in and saw a picture of her.

He just needed you to confirm as such. 

That seems to be the wrong question, because anger is suddenly more prominent, both vocally and physically. “You’re seriously asking me how the fuck I found out I have a daughter?” Any attempt to control his anger is out the door, replaced with visceral emotions. “No, the real question is why the fuck you didn’t tell me I have a child?”

You’re not sure what it is, the emotionality of it all, the fact that you’re face to face with the man you’ve worked so hard over the years to get over, or even just the fact that he’s speaking to you this way. Maybe all of it. Regardless, you’re not about to just take it lying down. “First of all, watch your tone. You’re not going to talk to me any kind of way. Second of all, you are married, Joe. What was I supposed to do? Send you and your wife copies of the sonogram?”

“Don't put this on that,” he dismisses, swiftly and curtly. “Jadah has nothing to do with you telling me I'm a father. Don't you think I had a fucking right to know?”

“Of course you had a right.” He did. He does. You won’t deny him that, but it’s also not as cut and dry as he’s making it out to be. “But—”

“There’s no but, Y/N!” He cuts you off, and you have to take another deep breath. This time though, it’s not to lessen anxiety. It’s to calm your own anger that’s rising. Who the hell does he think he is to speak to you this way? Like you’re some damn child. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Are you going to actually listen to me, or are you just going to keep yelling? Cause I don’t respond to disrespect, Joe. You know this.”

He actually smiles, smiles at your words. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m disrespecting you? You keep my child from me, and I’m disrespecting you?” He scoffs and looks up at the ceiling, probably to settle himself. “Did you know when you ended things between us?"

The surprising questions just keep on rolling. “What?”

“I swear to God.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Did you know you were pregnant when you told me to leave? Is that why you did it? So I wouldn’t find out?”

This time, you’re the one scoffing, trying to rationalize how he could even think to ask you this. “Seriously, Joe? I told you why I ended things.”

“Yeah, well, you’re clearly not the most honest fucking person, so I don’t even know what to believe anymore.” 

You hate the fact that his words don’t further anger you but instead sadden you. You see how he’s looking at you, with a level of disdain and disgust. It’s such an unfamiliar experience, an unwanted one. “So, I’m a liar now?” It should have come out much stronger, firmer, showing him that you’re not putting up with his bullshit. Instead, it’s a damn near whisper.

He looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, like he doesn’t get what you’re not getting about this. “What do you call what you did?”

Your head is starting to hurt. This is going exactly how you feared it would go. 

Bad.

It’s all becoming too much, your voice weighed down with the emotions of it all. You feel like you’re on the verge of tears, and you hate that. You won’t let him see you cry. “We’re not….we’re not getting anywhere here, Joe. I think—”

“You should get a lawyer.”

Your heart stops. “What?”

He runs both hands over his face, the heaviness of this conversation clearly weighing on him as well. “We need to figure out some type of custody arrangement, and I don’t think us handling it with each other is a good idea—”

“Custody?” The room is starting to blur again, items moving wayward and sideways. The ringing in your ears is also returning. “What—you—you want to take her from me?” You need to sit down, your legs feeling like they’re ready to give out at any moment. Take her. He wants to take her from you. Unable to control yourself, you snap, “she doesn’t even know you!”

He matches your tone and volume precisely, clearly unwilling to back down. “Exactly, I’m her father, and she doesn’t know me because of you!”

You can barely believe the words coming out his mouth, incapable of processing that he’s actually standing here threatening to take your child from you. This has gone from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. “So, you think taking her away from me is the way to get to know her?”

His volume levels down a bit, and you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of sympathy. “I don’t want to take her away from you, Y/N. I just can’t trust you to not keep her away from me.”

This is disastrous. You never could you have envisioned this conversation playing out the way it is. Desperate, you move over to him, needing him to see you, to hear you, really hear you. “You’re here now, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough?” 

His answer surprises you with its austerity. He’s so angry. “No, because it took almost five fucking years for you to call me in the first damn place.”

He moves away from you, obviously headed for the door. He has nothing else to say. Your head is throbbing, vision still murky, but you manage to rush past him, obstructing his leave. “Joe….wait.”

You’ve never felt so small, so desperate, so helpless in your life. It’s reminiscent of the last conversation you had with him five years prior, that same boulder on your chest, bigger now. Much bigger. 

“Please.” You’re not even trying to hold in the tears anymore. That’s not even important. Not in the slightest. This is your child.  “Please don’t take her away from me. She’s my baby, Joe. She—she’s never even been without me before.”

He looks at you, and you can see it now. Finally see it. Finally see past all of the hurtful threats, the dismissiveness, the refusal to hear you out. He’s not angry. He’s hurt. “And she’s never been with me.” He moves past you, but not before one last statement. “Maybe now you’ll know how I feel.”

________

just curious, ya'll think joe trippin? personally, i'm team callie cause both reader and joe are wrong in one way or another but im also biased so ignore me.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Everything

Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend, Y/N goes home with her tail between her legs, praying that her roommate, Dean Winchester, isn’t there to witness yet another failed relationship. But fate doesn’t work that way, and what seems like the universe conspiring against her might actually be what she’s needed all along.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, break-up, language, douchebag ex, Dean’s a bit of a dick at first, insecurities, heart to heart, frenemies to lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I’m so sorry. This summary is awful. I hope you enjoy whatever this is 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

The rain pours down, and thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. You laugh bitterly at how the weather reflects your mood. Rain soaks your hair and clothing, your feet sodden and squelching; the stilettos you’re wearing offer zero protection from the torrents of water falling from the sky and running down the sidewalks.

You’re grateful for it, truth be told. At least this way, no one knows the mascara that runs in black streams down your cheeks is from the tears you’ve been crying over that asshole. The asshole you’ve been dating for two months who just dumped you at your local bar while sitting next to his date for the night.

Fuck, how did this become your life? How did you become this gullible, desperate woman who keeps falling for these kinds of men? Men who date you and sweet talk you, saying all the right things until they get what they want from between your legs and then leave you for someone prettier. Someone younger.

Maybe the asshole’s right. Maybe you are the type of girl to have a fun time with, not the kind to take home to meet someone’s mother. But fuck, that hurts to admit and fuck, you lose more of yourself with every asshole that spews those kind of lines to you. If you’ve said it once, you’ve said it a million times. You’re done with men. And this time, you mean it.

You turn the corner onto your street and stop in your tracks. Dread settles in your stomach as you see your roommate’s car parked on the side of the road. He just had to choose tonight of all nights to stay home, didn’t he? That’s all you fucking need right now. You consider turning around and walking away. Hell, he wouldn’t miss you. You were meant to be staying at the asshole’s place anyway.

But, this is your home. Well, the place you live, at least, and you need to go there eventually. Might as well get it over with. Your lip trembles, knowing you need to face the one person you really don’t want to right now, especially in this state. He already thinks you’re pathetic enough as it is.

You walk up the stairs, dread settling heavily in the pit of your stomach the closer you get to the door. You cast up a silent prayer that the only reason Dean is home is because he’s got female company over. At least then, you can get in, grab some whiskey and get to your room quietly and unnoticed.

“Hey, what are you doing home so early? Thought you were staying at Chuck’s tonight?” Dean says from the couch, not even turning to look at you.

“Yeah, well, plans change. Why are you here? Thought you’d be chasing some skinny ass, barely legal bitch at the bar.” Your tone conveys pure disgust, and you curse yourself for it when he turns to look at you. And, of course, he laughs.

“What the hell happened to you?” he buckles, scanning your absolutely hilarious appearance. “You look like someone threw you in the river and left you to claw your way back out again!” Dean laughs, and you huff, desperately trying to stop the fresh batch of tears threatening to stream down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Dean, there’s a torrential downpour out there.”

“Yeah, that explains the puddle at your feet, but not the rest of you, bitch,” he laughs, and that does it. You know he’s not being serious; you constantly hurl insults at one another, and it doesn’t usually get to either of you, but this time, it hits differently.

“The only reason I kept you around so long is because you’re like a bitch in heat. Always needing to be fucked. But that’s all you’re good for, and it grows old pretty quickly.”

Your eyes water, and your lip trembles. A sob escapes unchecked, and you wish the floor would open you up and swallow you whole. “I’m going to bed,” you mutter and turn to walk away.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean says, his face softening into concern.

“What, Dean? What? You wanna laugh at me more? Call me a bitch again, huh? Look, I know you don’t like me, but you know what? A little compassion can go a long way. Some humanity might make me actually believe you have a heart.”

Your mind replays every conversation you’ve overheard Dean having about you with his brother, his friends, and his conquests, and your heart sinks to the floor at how true your words are.

“Who? Her? She’s just my roommate. Baby, you don’t have to worry about her. We’re not even friends, and she’s not my type. She’s basically my live-in maid. She cooks and cleans for me and pays me for the privilege.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what happened?” Dean asks, stepping towards you, frowning when you step back.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniffle.

“Come on, you’re upset. Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“Why? So you can make fun of me like you always do? We're not even friends, Dean. Stop pretending you give a damn about me.” The hurt furrowing his brow surprises you, and you scoff. “Don’t look so hurt, Dean. I’m only repeating your words back to you. I’m the live-in maid, remember?” you turn and walk quickly to your room, slamming the door.

Whiskey will have to wait until Dean’s gone to bed.

It’s been quiet in the main section of the apartment for over an hour now. It’s probably safe to assume Dean has gone to bed, and you can get the whiskey you’re so desperate to drown yourself in.

Leaving the sanctuary of your bedroom, you pad down the hall in your bare feet, trying to be as quiet as possible. Dean is a light sleeper, and he’d complained before about you waking him whenever you get up in the middle of the night suffering from a bout of insomnia.

“I was wondering when you’d come out,” Dean’s voice makes you jump as it rings from the small dining table by the kitchen window. He’s sitting in the dark, with just the moon’s light shining enough to see his silhouette. “I was getting worried,” he states, sipping from a tumbler.

“Oh, so you do have a heart?” you respond. It’s a bitchy comment, and you know it, but you’re in defence mode after Chuck. “Might want to show it once in a while.”

“Nah. Makes me look weak,” he chuckles. His joke caught you off guard, and you let out a little huff of laughter. “See? I knew I could make you smile!”

“Barely,” you quip back and sit across from him, grabbing the whiskey bottle and filling the empty glass Dean must’ve put on the table for you.

“What happened, sweetheart? You left here tonight looking stunning and happy, and when you came home—”

“I was crying, and you called me bitch,” you state, watching Dean’s head drop.

“Not my finest moment, I admit,” Dean says as he reaches for the bottle and refills both glasses. “I didn’t know how upset you were, and I was only teasing you. If I’d known that it wasn’t just the rain that made your mascara run, I’d never have said it, and I hope you know that.”

“I really wanna believe that, but you’re always saying hurtful things,” you say, draining your glass.

“The things you said earlier,” Dean nods. “I didn’t mean… look, Y/N, you’re a beautiful woman, and some of the girls I bring home get jealous, you know? I say those things to keep them sweet.”

You nod, thinking it’s a fair excuse. Dean does have a lot of women over, and you’ve pulled out the sting from more than a few of them.

“As for what I say to Sam and my friends, well, they tease me about living with a pretty girl and don’t believe me when I say we’re just roommates,” Dean continues. You have to admit that was also sound reasoning. It didn’t excuse it; he was still a dick, but you understood it a little better.

“It’d just be nice if you stopped for a second and thought of me as a person with feelings before you say those kinds of things in front of me,” you say, filling your glass again.

“Alright, sweetheart, I promise I’ll work on that,” Dean agrees, and you notice he’s watching you intently.

“What?” you ask, feeling uncomfortably exposed under his gaze.

“What happened with Chuck,” Dean asks again.

“I don’t want to tell you,” you sigh.

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing,” you whine and hit your head on the table.

“Come on,” Dean says, topping up their glasses again. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise whatever it is, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

“I got to the bar, and Chuck was there with another woman. He told me we were over and that Anna was his date for the night. Then, to rub salt in my wounds, as I was walking away, he told me that all I was good for was a great time in bed. Always up for anything, like a bitch in heat.”

“And then you came home, and I called you a bitch. Y/N, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Dean takes your hand in his, and you can see that it’s a genuine apology, and he really does feel awful about it. “You know he’s wrong, right? You’re worth so much more than that?”

“I don’t think I am. He’s not the only guy to tell me that,” you shrug. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m done with men and dating.”

“You don’t mean that. You think I don’t know about all the romcoms you watch on Netflix? All those girly books you read.”

“Yeah, well, a fat lot of good they did me. I’m starting to see why people are boycotting Disney Princess movies because they’re filled with romantic disillusionment and give a false idea to women that their Prince Charming exists somewhere out there.”

“This is more serious than I thought if you’re losing faith in the Disney Princesses!” Dean chuckles, and it makes you smile slightly. “Seriously, though, I think this is more about the men you date than you, sweetheart. They are way out of your league.”

“I am not out of anyone’s league, Dean. If anything, it’s probably the other way around,” you huff a bitter laugh.

“I’m out of your league,” Dean says quietly.

“You have that backwards. I’m the one out of your league. You’re gorgeous and charming, and I have seen the girls you bring home, and they are the most stunning women I’ve ever seen. I can’t compete with that.” The words spill out of you before you can stop them, and you think Dean might be blushing, but it’s hard to tell when the only sliver of light comes from the moon shining through the kitchen window.

Dean laughs, and it takes you aback slightly. “I have called you beautiful or some other variation of it several times tonight, and not once have you picked up on it. Those women are hot, sure, but you… You are on a whole other level of hot. You are stunning and so much classier than they will ever be.”

You scoff at his words, not believing them but not wanting him to know they affect you. You know Dean’s type, and it is definitely not you. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better, Dean.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. There’s a reason Sam and Cas and Benny are on my case so much about you, and it’s because I really, really, like you—”

“So, all the insults and barely tolerating my presence was what,” you smirk over at him, “you pulling my pigtails and pushing me over in the playground?”

“When you put it like that…” Dean cringes. “I guess it was. Look, you’re hurt and sad, and we’ve had a lot to drink, so I’m not going to push you to tell me if this is one-sided, but I will talk to you tomorrow when we’re both sober.”

The warmth of the sun wakes you, and you stretch in its gentle heat. You’re not nearly as hungover as you should be, and for that, you’re grateful. Dean had some interesting things to say last night, and you’d rather your brain was running at full capacity.

Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen, mindful that Dean’s door is closed, so it’s likely he’s still sleeping, and start the coffee machine. 

You busy yourself with clearing up from the night before. You rinse dishes, put them in the dishwasher and put the almost empty whiskey bottle back in the cupboard. You grab your and Dean’s favourite mugs and place them next to the coffee machine.

Taking the cleaning spray, you spritz all the surfaces and wipe them down while patiently waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

“How did I manage to find the only person in this city who likes cleaning?” Dean’s groggy voice sounds from the doorway, and you smile.

“Morning, Dean,” you say as you pick up the coffee pot and fill his mug. You place it on the breakfast bar and fill your own before hopping onto one of the stools and making yourself comfortable.

“Morning, sweetheart. Thanks,” Dean says as he picks up his mug and takes a sip. “So, about last night…”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “Straight to the point, huh?”

“I’ve wasted enough time, and now that my feelings are out there, I can’t sit on this any longer,” Dean pauses to take another mouthful of coffee. “I meant what I said. I like you, Y/N. I’m sorry if anything I did when I was in denial of my feelings hurt you. And I’m sorry for pushing you away and making you think I hated you so you wouldn’t find out how I really feel.”

“Dean, I don’t know what to say,” you say. “I used to like you in that way, but with how you were with me, I turned it off because, for the past year, I’ve been thinking you don’t like me, and I don’t know if anything is still there for you.”

Dean nods, looking a little deflated by your words, but it’s clear he accepts them. “Can I at least try and make you get it back?”

“I don’t know—“ you begin, but Dean cuts you off.

“Please, Y/N. One date is all I’m asking for,” Dean begs, and you feel your resolve waning. You know you still have feelings for him.

“I’ve seen the girls you bring home, Dean. And I’m nothing compared to them,” you try. It’s your last bit of fight, the last time you’ll be able to give him an out from this.

“You’re everything, Y/N. And I mean that. You are smart, funny, kind, beautiful… you’re everything they weren’t. Please,” Dean begs again. “Just one date. Let me prove it.”

“Okay,” you nod with a small smile.

“Yeah?” Dean says, breaking out into a boyish grin.

“Yeah. I’ll go on a date with you, Dean.”

“Awesome!” he grins, looking like he just answered the million-dollar question. “I promise you won’t regret it!”

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[ladyrowrites]

"EX-BOYFRIEND NANAMI"

A/N: This was a request by @patpatspatz yes, it's long and there will be a part 2 :)

Pairings: Nanami x Afab reader

Warning: Little bit of angst, swearing

Part 2

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who broke up with you two years ago because he was afraid that he’ll lose you like he lost Haibara. You told him it was a stupid reason and that Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live long so why not be happy and be in love while you still can. He was adamant about his decision so you told Principal Yaga that you're moving to Kyoto to teach there instead. 

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who saw a glimpse of you walking the aisles of Tokyo Jujutsu High as all the sorcerers were called in a meeting of planning the defeat of Geto Suguru on December 24th. You still look so beautiful, he thought, especially now that your hair is longer. It suits you so well. He shook his thoughts immediately because he believes he doesn't have the right to think of you that way now. You had been dreading this meeting because you really don't want to see your ex but you can't say that because 1.) That’s so unprofessional and 2.) Geto Suguru is a threat now! But why the fuck does he look so good in that beige suit?! When did he become this hot? Ehem, you mean professional looking with his slick hair and blue glasses. You have been hiding yourself behind Miwa so he doesn't notice you but you can’t help glancing secretly at him (Fuck, he’s so handsome) but little did you know, he knew you were peeking at him so he hides a little smirk. Did you even listen to the plan or were you busy eye fucking your ex boyfriend?

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now 2 feet away from you because Principal Yaga called the two of you after the meeting. You wished your Jujutsu technique was invisibility because you really want to vanish right here right now. Principal Yaga announced that the two of you will be assigned partners on December 24th as both of your techniques go well together and will help the Tokyo team a lot. Also, as the seniors in the Jujutsu world, it is both your duties to protect the younger sorcerers. “Uhm, sensei, I’m in Kyoto now, I can help there.” You protested. He shook his head and said, “Your techniques will be more valuable here and also they have Todo there and I’m pretty sure you've taught your students well, Y/N.” He eagerly smiled at you. Ugh, you should have left the Jujutsu world instead, you thought.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who understood and bowed to Principal Yaga and you turned around and left first. When he got to the door, you irritably whispered to him, “Don't get in my way.” When you were about to walk away, Nanami held your wrist in which you gave him ‘the let go of me or be killed look’. He immediately gently let go of your wrist and said, “I just want to say I’m sorry.” Then walked out. What the fuck was that? Why was he saying sorry? You wanted to hit him with your shoes just to ask him what was that all about but it’s too childish so you let it go.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now arguing with you about your tactics on your mission as you both agreed to meet up before the D-day. He wants to go on a defensive game plan but you want to kill as many curses as you can. 

“See that is the problem with you! All action but no thinking! You think you’re kind of like a superhuman who doesn't die?” He was losing his patience. You roll your eyes at him for the 10th time. He was really getting on your nerves, “Uhm? Last time I checked, I am a superhuman Nanami-san! I am not weak! So no, change your fucking plan or I’m going back to Kyoto!” 

“Yeah, sounds about right? You always run away! That's so you, Y/N!”

If you could use your Jujutsu technique on him, you would, you sighed and gave him a dagger look, “Run away? Fuck you, Nanami! I didn't run! You pushed me away, let’s be clear about that.” and with that, you left and fuck whatever plans you two were making. You're both sorcerers, for pete’s sake! Attack, kill your enemies, and don’t die! What's so hard about that? 

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was following behind and then came up in front of you – he tried to stop you from leaving, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I do apologize for my words. It was harsh and I didn't mean it. Just please, let's calmly talk about the plan. I just want you to be safe, Y/N.”You look at him defeated. He was right…so you both come back to the room again and discuss what needs to be done.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami came to the rescue when you were struggling with exorcising a curse. He killed it for you. You wiped the blood splattered on your cheeks and said frustratingly, “I don’t need your help. I told you to stay out of my way.” He just nodded and that pissed you off more so you ran away from him which was not the plan. The plan was to stick together and kill curses as a team, especially the special and semi grade curses. But you were pissed off because it felt like you were so weak that you can’t kill off a semi grade curse, so fuck the plan and go find that you can put your anger to.

You were now in the alleyway and you felt a breeze near you and now it’s blowing your face. You immediately went into defensive mode and made sure you had your katana ready. Your power is creating a portal by cutting through anything or any person with your katana. You were ready to slice the air but the special grade curse spoke which you felt in your spine. You were taken aback by the special grade’s words, “Weakling.” Was what it said – it was soft but with wrath. It landed a blow in your arm and now all you can see is red. You moved your stance and stabbed it hard on its stomach – you portal it now to your dimension. You can move more freely now, you thought, but it laughed at you and said, “Not bad.” While healing its wounded stomach. This special grade is a huge one eyed monster with a green talon that has daggers – it wagged its tail but you cut through and sent the daggers in another portal but it was fast and now on your face and licked your cheek. It burned so bad that you wanted to wail but you were able to do a split and slashed its legs. You continued your slashing until it was screaming pain. It kept regenerating so you stood up fast and tried slitting its throat but before your katana could land a blow on it – it escaped your portal and now landed a strong punch in your stomach and now you are laying on the ground in the same alleyway with its talon about to stab you.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami who was now looking for you worriedly. His whole being turned lifeless when he saw you laying out cold with a tall ugly curse hovering you. He immediately used his curse technique and struck the special grade in the heart with his cleaver. It turned to him and attacked him with its talon but Nanami caught its tail with his tie and crushed it. The special grade falls to the ground in pieces.

Ex-Boyfriend Nanami ran to your side and took you urgently to Shoko. All you remember was you were saying something to him and he was smiling faintly. 

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

Again, there will be part 2 :)

All I can say is Nanami is the greenest flag there ever is! 💚

[skrrts]

white silk (oneshot) mature!

✧ afab!reader x yeosang ✧ genre: non-idol, dating, long distance, mature ✧ word count: 1,5k ✧ warnings: suggestive, description of body, nickname (babe/baby), teasing, lingerie, undressing & dressing, video call, minors dni!

Six months of long distance seem far too long but Yeosang finds ways to ensure you still spend special times together, spoiling you with gifts the both of you are likely to enjoy.

a/n: i wanted to try something different for a change because usually my suggestive is closer to making out ... no real plot, just you looking pretty for him

Six months felt like an eternity, and you dreaded every moment of it, realizing how spoiled you had been to fall for someone who lived barely fifteen minutes away, allowing you to meet whenever you desired. Now, Yeosang was on the other side of the country, stuck in a timezone opposite to yours, and you barely made it through the first month.

It was late in the evening for you when he called, right after you had stripped out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable after a long day at your office job. You knew exactly why he was calling — a mysterious package had been waiting at your front door when you arrived.

You checked your appearance in the mirror before placing your phone beside it and settling yourself in the large chair with the fur blankets over it, smiling as you accepted the call.

“Hey, handsome,” you smiled, knowing it was quite an early morning for your boyfriend, who already looked like he stepped out of a fashion magazine. Now, you regretted how little effort you had put into your appearance, but at least your makeup was still decent.

“You made it home safely,” he looked relieved to see you. Yeosang was always worried about it. He was a man full of unexpected characteristics: many thought of him as reserved when he was simply an observer, and while kind-hearted, he had quite a temper if he felt anyone was mistreating others, especially you.

“It’s a quick way home, but as always, I didn’t stray and made sure to go directly. I really don’t think there’s a reason to worry anymore.” A little before he left, some drunk idiot didn’t take no for an answer and followed you almost all the way home.

“Still, I want to make sure my baby is safe and comfortable,” his tone changed, his voice now hinting a playful purr, and you gladly accepted the change of topic.

“I am, but it’s a little difficult considering how much I’m missing my favorite person.”

You tilted your head, giving him a playful smile. Yeosang seemed pleased as he shifted on the chair he was seated in, giving you a better view of his outfit. While it was long-sleeved, it was slightly too large, slipping down one side of his shoulder and revealing parts of his collarbones.

“I know, which is why I made sure to take some time off just for you before I venture into the dull world of business and treat you a little. I take it the person I asked to deliver the present did so on time?”

You nodded and leaned in: “I waited to open it together with you.” Yeosang had sent you a few gifts since he left six weeks ago: a cute plushie to keep you company, a pearl necklace, and now something else.

The small grin on his lips promised that it had been a good decision. You quickly learned how he enjoyed watching you get excited about whatever he got you. You reached for one of your scissors and carefully removed the tape to open the cardboard box, revealing a fancy white gift bag with a ribbon to hold it together.

You placed the box aside and looked at it: white and silver were certainly his favorite colors. Your fingers carefully removed the ribbon, and you glanced at your phone where Yeosang was tilting his head, eyes on you.

The first item was an expensive-looking hairbrush in the shape of angel wings. Your long nails slowly brushed over it, producing a gentle tapping sound.

“A brush, huh? Are you telling me to wear my hair down more often?” You often just tie it up into a bun when at home but knew he liked it open much more.

“Maybe. You know I love to play with your beautiful hair, running my fingers through it, but I also enjoy watching you do so by yourself when you get ready for sleep. Today’s present is to make you more comfortable for bed,” his deep voice made you shiver a little anytime he spoke about you like that, conjuring images of all the evenings when his fingers played with your hair.

“I’m sure we can do this,” you hummed and reached out for the rest in the bag. It only took a moment to feel the soft fabric between your fingers, brushing from satin to lace. A hint of color appeared on your cheeks as you slowly pulled it out.

The lingerie Yeosang chose was tasteful but still allowed room for imagination. While only the lace part really offered a view, it was a little tighter and quite short. The matching panties were made of the same lace as the dress.

For a moment, you found yourself staring at it but finally moved when you heard a soft chuckle on the other end of the call.

“Don’t you like it, baby? I thought you’d look quite good in it, but if you’d prefer something more comfortable, I’ll be sure to send you something else another day.”

You also forgot how much of he tease he was when nobody else was there, just the two of you. When you started to date, it had been a welcomed surprise. It never failed to make you feel excited.

You quickly cleared your throat, shaking your head. “I was just admiring it. Maybe wondering a little how you manage to pick all these things while being on the other side of the world.”

As you stood, Yeosang was quietly shifting in anticipation. “You only deserve the best, and while I’m away, I’ll make sure you know it.”

You playfully let your hair down, fingers removing the ribbon that held it up, and let it fall over your shoulder before slowly turning around.

“And maybe, just maybe, you’re also a little selfish, handsome?”

He loved it when you went from shy to teasing, so you made sure to give him plenty of it. In your mind, you tried to decide what to do about it. Yeosang would never ask you to change in front of the camera; he always respected your boundaries and would simply enjoy seeing you wear it. But you were at a point in your relationship where you trusted him blindly and maybe wanted to explore more.

You took the two pieces and placed them on your bed.

Very slowly, you stripped out of your clothes, dropping them mindlessly on the floor once you turned around. You gave him a view of your back, your long hair falling to the middle of it, and your curves nature had been quite generous with.

For a moment, you stood there bare, looking over your shoulder to flash him a small grin before carefully stepping into the lace panties, pulling them up slowly and bending over to ensure he got a proper view. You could hear him exhale sharply as you finally reached for the dress.

Although it seemed a little tight, the fabric was comfortable on your skin, fitting perfectly and showing your curves without being restrictive. The lace managed to hold your breasts just fine, decorating them with a complex pattern.

After a moment of consideration, you picked up the pearl necklace he had gifted you and placed it around your neck. Once done, you slowly turned around, making sure Yeosang could see your outfit from all sides.

“Stunning. Now I regret not buying you something like that before,” he hummed, shifting once more. His dark eyes were all on you, and you couldn’t deny you were enjoying this just a little.

“Thank you, handsome. I love it,” you purred and slowly returned to your makeup table to sit, making sure to shift slightly to the side so that your upper body was pleasantly displayed as you finally reached out and picked up the brush. You very slowly pulled a few strands of your hair over your shoulder and started to brush them, biting down on your lower lip sensually.

“I miss you. Tell them to send you back sooner,” you playfully pouted, licking your lip.

Yeosang’s gaze returned to your face: “Mh, my baby is so impatient. I know, it’s far too long, but time will go by quicker than you think. Once I’m back, I’ll make sure we catch up on every moment we missed. I’ll shower you with all my attention.”

You brushed your hair a little longer: “I’ll be quite needy for it when it finally happens.”

As you placed the brush aside and picked up your phone, you slowly moved backward towards your bed, laying down on it.

Yeosang hummed, doing the same.

“Well, until then, we better make sure you get as much of it this way as you can. Now that you’ve spoiled me getting ready for bed, it’s my turn to do the same for you.”

As you lay down, you bit your lip again, although this time because it was hard to take your eyes off his body as Yeosang slowly pulled off his shirt, allowing you to admire his perfectly shaped muscular form and the way his deep voice said your name.

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Don't Be a Sweat

Pairing: Gamer Yunho x Gamer Fem Reader

Genre: Smut & Fluff

Warnings: Sub Yunho, dom reader, fem reader and parts but no fem names, cum eating, exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe pls), cursing, if its anything I missed pls let me know.

Word count: 4.8K (one day I'll get past 4k lol)

A/N: First sub Fic, I think I did an okay job but let me know if you like it!

Minors dni

Smut under the cut

The door to your best friend’s room opens and you and her walk into it, you both plop down on her bed tired from a long day of socializing. You both decided to do attend a "group date" that the designated match maker of your friend group set up. 3 hours of karaoke with the lamest guys you think you've ever met it was so dreadful and boring, you would have much rather been home streaming yourself playing overwatch or the new PSN free games of the month.

"I know what you're thinking Y/N." Your best friend turned to you and said,

"And what am I think little Ms. Mind reader."

"You're thinking "God those guys sucked I bet they couldn't even beat me in a 1v1 on Minecraft." or something like that." you both laughed.

"Good effort but you can't 1v1 on Minecraft there is no fighting on it, Minecraft is-"

"Ah- spare me the nerdy details I hear enough gamer bullshit with my brother. Anyway, what the hell was she thinking setting us up with that pack of losers of the year." She laughs and shakes her head.

"Oh god did you hear the one ranting about all women wanting money." you joined her in her laughing.

"If you're gonna ask me my income you're gonna need to cook and clean blah blah blah go live in the fucking 50s then! Oh, and the one that hounded you when you told him that you're a streamer."

"I bet I could beat you at this! I bet you've never heard of this! Like gag me, literally."

You two started laughing louder at your impressions of the men, they truly were just that pathetic, but to you, every man was.

Being a streamer, you run into your fair share of overly misogynistic incels that hate you just because you like games and have a vagina but in reality they would crumble at your feet if they ever saw you. Hot women that play games make men angry for some reason and you wanted nothing more than to break them down . Beating them after they whine about how you're a terrible and only popular because you're pretty, always made you smile. It was kind of a sick enjoyment you got out of beating them but who care, sweats get no sympathy from you.

Speaking of sweats as you and your best friend were enjoying having a laugh you suddenly heard loud knocking on the door. Your best friend rolled her eyes.

"Ugh What!" she knew exactly who it was.

The bedroom door swung open and in walked your best friends twin brother Yunho. Yunho was also a gamer like you, very tall and handsome but you two have never seen eye to eye. Ever since the day you became friends with BF/N Yunho terrorize you. Calling you names,  embarrassing you in front of guys, making fun of your hair and outfits and just being an all-around bully. Eventually feelings became mutual, and you only put yourself around him to hang out with your friend but other then that you and Yunho couldn’t even have a conversation with out arguing.

“Can you guys shut the fuck up already? I’m trying to play squads with the guys, and they can barely hear me over you two.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever they will live.” Your best friend said while trying to wave her brother off.

You let out another giggle “You guys can barely shoot straight I’m sure we aren’t the reason you guys are losing, y’all just suck.”

You and BF/N started laughing together again as she slapped your shoulder.

“Ohhh Y/N maybe we should invite Yunhos friends over they are actually kinda hot and a few game like you, you’ll really like the really hot one uhm what’s his name- oh San!”

“Ooouuu, he sounds sexy, maybe we should invite them over.”

“As fucking if, my friends would never date a chick like Y/N.” Yunho rolled his eyes.

“And what the hell kinda chick am I Yunho.” You folded your arms and tilted your head ready to pop off at him.

“The kinda chick who can’t keep a guy even if he was locked in her basement because no one wants her ugly ass.”

“Now I’m ugly? Well, who dyed their hair Blonde just to get a girl that ended up fucking everyone BUT you.”

His ears and face turned red in embarrassment.

“Sis, you told her about that?”

“Yuyu, I had too, I wanted her to feel bad so you guys could talk, and you could finally tell her you like her.”

Boy if his face wasn’t red then it sure was red now, he even tried wiping the embarrassment off.

“What !? As if I would like some girl that spends all her time gaming and talking shit online like a fucking loser. I’d never date someone like her!”

“Good cause it’ll never fucking happen, maybe I should do what BF/N said and fuck your friend just to piss you off!” You stood up at this point, who the hell does he think he is calling you a loser.

“Fuck you Y/N!” He yelled before walking out and slamming the door, thank God Yunho and BF/N moved out and into their shared apartment so their parents didn’t hear the argument.

You plopped back down on the bed.

“God what the fuck is his problem? It’s like he hates my guts for no reason.”

“It’s just like I said Y/N, the boy likes you.” She yawned and stood up to change into her sleeping clothes.

“What? BF/N be serious here.”

She finished getting ready for bed and you got up to change into the shorts and shirt you brought with you to spend the night.

“I am being serious; he’s always liked you that’s why he’s mean to you.”

She got up and turned off the lights and got under the covers, you did too, you two faced each other.

“If you don’t believe me, ask him yourself tomorrow, good night, Y/N.”

“…night.”

You two eventually drifted off to sleep but your mind was still racing, did Yunho really like you? Isn’t that “boy is mean to the girl he likes” trope only in moves and poorly written fan fics? (Girl I’m trying my best)

Around 2am you were woken up by Yunho yelling, he was most likely playing the game with his friend, you could hear him faintly saying “Bro get him” and “Fuck” in the next room. You were going to go back to sleep but decided to see if what your friend said was true because it was slowly eating you up. You got up and walked to the room next door and knocked on his door. You could hear him telling his friends he would be back and then he opened the door. He had on random graphic tee and some grey sweatpants; fuck why does it have to be grey sweatpants. His room was nice, the lights were out but the LED strips around his bed still lit up the room.

“Oh, its you, what do you want?”

“Um, well can I talk to you for a second?”

“I mean I guess…” he walked back over to the gaming chair that was stationed in front of his TV and sat back down.

You decided to sit on his bed on the edge facing the TV and there was a brief awkward silence before he broke it.

“You came to my room just to sit here and stare?”

“No…um…”

“Spit it out dude God, what’s your problem why can’t you be normal?”

Even with you trying to talk to him he just pisses you off.

“I heard you got the new street fighter game, lets play it.”

“What ?”

“Yea let play, loser has to do whatever the winner says.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, no I’m going back to playing with my friends.” He picked up his controller and put his headset back on. You just couldn’t understand why Yunho was so mean to you, what you ever did or why he just woke up and chose to treat you this badly. If what your friend said was true then you needed to find out, tonight! While Yunho continued to play with his friends you took matters into your own hands and snatched his headset and controller.

“What are you-“

“Sorry, Yunho is busy he’ll get back on later.” You said directly into the mic then quit his game mid match.

“Y/N What the fuck is your deal?”

“Shut up.”

He sat quietly while you started up the street fighter game, you tossed him back his controller and grabbed the unoccupied one and turned it on.

“Now like I said, loser has to do what ever the winner says got it?”

“…fine”

“Good.”

You two selected your characters and the match started, 3 rounds, unlimited time. You and Yunho played while making random grunting sounds and shouting one worded taunt but even he couldn’t match up to your acute game skill. The match ended with you as the winner, and you raised your hands in victory.

“That was such BS.”

“Don’t be a sore loser YuYu.”

“Don’t call me that! I’m not a kid any more Y/N.”

“Whatever, since I won you have to do whatever I say now.”

“What do you want me to do.”

“Hmm…for now you have to sit next to me on the bed.” You said in a slightly shaky voice.

He arched his eyebrow but chose not to question it getting up from his gaming chair and sitting next to you on the edge of the bed. Your heart started to beat a bit faster, Yunho has never made you feel this way before but with the thought that he may like you in mind it made you feel a bit shy.

“Earth to Y/N, come on let’s go again.”

“Y-yeah okay let’s play.”

Why was this making you so shy, you aren’t that kind of person especially for Yunho, so why is the thought of him liking you driving you crazy. You had zoned out thinking and didn’t realize you were losing, by the time you snapped out of it you had lost the match.

“I thought you were supposed to be some awesome ass gamer, that was terrible.”

“Shut up! What do you want me to do ?”

“How about you play in just your bra from now on.”

You scoffed because you knew that he was doing this to embarrass you, you knew he just wanted to belittle you. Even if he did like you, he was still an ass, and you were determined to finally put him in his place.

“Fine you want to play it like that, say less.”

You took off your night shirt and Yunho looked back at the TV to get ready to play the next round. Round after round Yunho lost to you because you had to show him who’s the top gamer here. You kept his theme of stripping, and he was left playing in just his underwear, his face was red as a tomato, and he was flustered playing. The next round started, and he pulled the ultimate foul move of gaming, pausing to see the move list.

“Come on YuYu don’t be scared of losing.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

He growled lowly. “Shut up, why are we even doing this anyways?”

“I have my reasoning, so come on and lose like a champ.”

Your eyes focused back on the TV and before he could unpause the game to take his loss, a message from one of his gaming friends came up.

xX_CallMeDaddyMin_Xx: Yo, Yunho did you screw that streamer chick your sister is friends with finally lol.

You both read the message and before you both could react another friend sent another message; you realize it’s coming from the group party chat. You disconnected his mic but forgot to leave the party too.

__bl00dy__San__: Yeah, tell her how you always watch her streams, probs jack off to them to lmaooooo.

Before anymore messages could come through, he turned off the TV.

“Ge-Get out I’m going to bed.”

He was a blushing mess, everyone just kept outing his little secrets today, he got under the covers and covered his face, and you couldn’t help but giggle at him, he was so cute when he was shy, and you hated to admit it. You crawled up next to him, now was your chance to get some revenge.

“Come on YuYu, tell me if what they said was true.” You snaked your hand under the covers slowly, trickling down his leg.

“Leave me alone.”

“Do you watch my streams YuYu?”

“Go the hell away Y/N” he said in a muffled shy voice, you needed to tease him more now, this was your area of expertise. Once again you were used to toxic guys trying to come into your streams to harass you, but you had a love for turning those same yelling dickheads to whimpering messes, it gave you so much power, and to finally have that advantage over the same guy that has bullied you for years. You were going to enjoy this way more then you should, and so was he, you reached up and whispered into his ear.

“Why YuYu? Don’t wanna admit you like to watch me stream even though you hate me.”

Your hands reached his V line, you played with the band of his boxers.

“I-I don’t hate you…”

“Oh really? How do I make you feel then YuYu?”

Your hands dived into his boxers, and you found his semi hard length, you started to rub up and down the shaft slowly to really tease him. One thing you hated to admit about Yunho was that he was packing. You grew up seeing him in all kinds of clothing and sometimes would see the outline, but you’d rather choke then admit he had a big dick but now that you’re feeling it it’s undeniable.

His bit back a small moan at the feel of your fingers on him, his mind was racing, the girl he’s been madly in love with since they were snot nosed was in his bed feeling him up, how could he possibly function.

“….you’re okay I guess.” He continued to hide his face in the covers.

“No, no little baby, I need a better answer then that, or do you just want me to stop and leave.” You stopped moving your hands but didn’t take them out of his underwear.

“No…please don’t stop.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to stop YuYu? Am I making you feel good? Is that why you watch my streams? Because I make you feel good baby.”

He didn’t respond so it was time to push these answers out of him, or more so rub them out of him. You gripped the base of his length and started to slowly pump his dick, he let out a soft moan at the sudden friction and it made your clit jump, you needed more and so did he.

“You…you look nice when you’re gaming.”

“Aww thank you baby but I’m asking you how I make you feel, so tell me that.”

Moving your hands up and down his shaft you directed your attention to his tip, pumping it tightly as precum slowly oozed out of it, you spread it over his tip the more you pumped, you wish he wasn’t so shy so you could watch his pretty pink tip be teased right now.

“Do I turn you on Yuyu? When I watch and degrade those guys on my stream does it make your dick throb? Do you wish I was talking to you?”

He could barely focus, the slow stroking on his length made him dizzy because the sensation was so strong.

“How about you let me see you Yuyu, let me see you fall apart for the girl you claimed to hate all these years.”

You pull the cover back and pull his dick out of his boxers, his dick was red and ready to burst, the tan shaft had pretty veins bulging on it, he had some girth, but the length was something to look at.

“Wow Yuyu your dick is so pretty for an asshole.”

He covers his face and looks away from you, he didn’t know rather he wanted to disappear or cum, your teasing was so sexy, but he didn’t envision the first sexual encounter with you going like this, but he wasn’t mad at it either. You started to pump his dick even more and moved down to it. As you pumped his dick faster, he bit down on his lips hard.

“Don’t hide YuYu let me see what you look like when you cum, is that what you want baby? You want to cum for me like a desperate little slut?”

“…yes…please…”

“Please what baby?” You kept a steady pace as your grip tightened a bit.

“…please let me cum for you Y/N.”

You grinned a bit at his begging.

“Show me Yuyu, show me how you touch your self when you watch my streams.”

He was shy but he was desperate, he sat up and you removed your hand from his needy dick, and he replaced it with his own. He avoided your gaze, his whole face was red, and his eyes were low, he wanted to cum for you so bad it was driving him crazy. He started to pump his sensitive cock, throwing his head back onto the LED lit bedframe, breathy moans coming from his plush M shaped wet lips.

“Ah…Y/N…please watch me cum.” He tightly closed his eyes as he could feel his climax steadily approaching.

You had a lustful yet evil smile on your face.

“Of course, baby I’ll watch you stroke your slutty dick all night if you want me too, but I want to see more baby so don’t cum just yet, okay?”

He opened his eyes, his vision was hazy, his climax was right on the horizon and having him hold it only made it worse.

“Please…please let me cum for you Y/N” his grip on his shaft was firm as he continued to fall apart under you gazes.

“Mm well since you ask so nicely and you’re so desperate, go ahead and cum for me Babyboy.”

His moans were soft but got louder as his strokes became faster until his came. He shot hot ropes of cum from his throbbing cock, he continued to pump as it shot out and landed on his legs. His chest puffed in and out as he held his dick in his hands, he tilted his head on the side of the headrest of the bed. You giggled at his fucked-out state.

“You’re actually so cute YuYu.” You gathered up all the cum that came out onto your fingers, his eyes opened to see what your next step was. You put your now cum covered fingers into your mouth and sucked all of it off as he watched.

“Come on Yuyu, I want to play some more.” You sat on your legs and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, when you removed it Yunhos eyes was glued to your 2 mountains. You took it a step further and removed your shorts and underwear. Yunhos breathing spiked again and his softened rod started to rise once again.

“Do you want to touch me Yuyu? Go ahead and touch me wherever you like.”

He eagerly nodded his head and reached out both hands and gripped both your breast, he started to massage them.

“Ah~ that feels so good, touch me more okay Yunho.”

He brushed his thumbs over your nipples, and you moaned even more, your aching cunt became hot as you threw your head back.

“Ca-can I kiss you?” he shyly asked.

“Of course, baby.”

He didn’t waste another minute and planted a hot kiss on your lips. You’ve had sex with plenty of guys before and kissed lots of them, but this wasn’t like any kiss you’ve ever had, this kiss had dept and meaning to it, however now that you realized it, this whole moment felt so sensual. His touch on your breast gave you goosebumps and his tongue entering your mouth made you want him even more, you never realized just how much your body yearned for Yunho until now. Your tongues were doing an elaborate dance before he disconnected your mouths.

“Y/N…I need to taste you please…” Before you could even respond he pushed you down and got between your legs.

“You’re such an eager little baby, you want to taste my pretty little pussy that bad?”

He once again nodded eagerly, the look in his eyes looked like he wanted to literally eat you. You decided to give him what he is craving, and you spread your legs nice and wide so he could get a nice view, he leaned down and put his face inches away from your soaking cunt, he was so close you could feel the small breaths he was taking.

“It’s so pretty Y/N” Your face got hot at the compliment, one of the rare times he has complimented you and its about your pussy, you felt like melting. He licked one long stripe from your hole to your clit, then flicked his tongue on your nub, your legs flinched to close, and he swiftly brought his hands up to hold your legs open. He was eating your pussy like he was on death row, and this was the last meal he requested. Your back arched and staggered moans started to come from your mouth. He inserted one then two fingers into your hole, your pussy clenched and unclenched repeatedly around them as he sucked your clit like it was a lollipop. Your hands gripped his newly bleach blonde hair.

“You’re doing so good Yuyu, I’m going to cum on your pretty face if you keep going baby.”

“Please Y/N, please cum on my face, I need more of you.”

He hadn’t even entered you yet and he was already pussy drunk, he kept licking your core like his life depended on it. Your hips started to buck and you grinded down on his face, the feeling of his lips wrapped around your clit and his long slender fingers deep inside you, you had reached your limit. You came on his face, your clit throbbed, your hole started to squeeze his finger tightly, you had a firm grip on his hair, and he kept lapping up your juices. Over stimulation started to kick in and it seemed like Yunho had no plans on stopping anytime soon. You tried to push his face away, but he was stronger than you and kept going.

“Yunho! I’m gonna go crazy and wake your sister up, stop!”

He finally released your swollen nub from his lips and took his fingers out of you, he looked up at you with his face covered in your wetness, his eyes looked to pure and sincere yet the entire scene of him still having your legs spread wide was everything but pure.

“I’m sorry…I just need you so bad Y/N…”

“Then hurry up and fuck me Yuyu.”

His eyes gleamed like a kid that just got told he can open his gifts on Christmas eve and not Christmas.

“R-really? Oh my god okay let me grab a condom.” He excitedly got up and walked over to his dresser. He grabbed on condom from the top drawer, and you could swear you saw his invisible golden retriever tail wagging, he was so cute you giggled to yourself. He walked back over as he was tearing open the condom, he fully removed his boxers before getting back between your legs. He rolled the condom all the way down his length and lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this Y/N? We don’t have too if you don’t want to.”

You reached up to cup the side of his face and smiled warmly at him.

“I want this Yuyu, please take me, I need you just as much as you need me right now.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply and inserted the tip into you. You winced as your pussy began to stretch around his dick. He kept the slower pace as you moaned into his mouth, his length just kept coming, it felt like it was never ending. Once he bottomed out in you, he stopped the kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay baby, I promise.”

He stroked into you once. Twice. Three times. Then stopped deep in you and closed his eyes tightly as he held his position inside of you.

“What’s wrong? I told you I’m okay, you can keep going.”

“I-I know but- I’m not” a rosy blush covered his high cheeks bones yet again and that’s when you put two and two together.

“Yuyu did you…did you cum?”

“…yeah”

He pulled out of you and the condom was filled with his cum, he took the condom off in embarrassment and tossed it into his bedside trash You wanted so badly to tease him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, instead you reached your arms out to invite him in for a hug and he gladly accepted it. He dropped down on your body, and you hugged him tightly, even though he just came his dick was still hard as rock.

“Are you still horny Yuyu?”

“Yea but that was my last condom.”

“So, you are a little slut huh?”

“Not now Y/N” he was still sad that he couldn’t fully experience his first-time having sex with you the way that he wanted too.

“…Are you clean?”

“Of course, what kinda question is that?”

“…well, I am too.”

“What are you saying right now Y/N?” He leaned up to make sure he was understanding exactly what you were saying, and he wasn’t just hearing what he wanted to hear.

“I’m saying…if you want to keep going without a condom…we can…I trust you.”

That was all Yunho had to hear, he leaned back down onto you, and you hugged him again, he reached down and lined himself back up into your entrance and slid his dick back into you. His ear was right by your mouth as you let out a throaty moan, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, pumping into your pussy slowly and deeply. You gripped both his shoulders and drip your nails into them.

“You feel so good inside me Yuyu it’s so deep.”

He started to pump into you deeply, his tip hitting your spot like it was a drum as he drilled into you. He groaned as the over stimulation and his soon approaching climax was rushing forward.

“I’m about to cum Y/N please cum with me.”

You dragged your nails up and down his back leaving red streaks up and down his back as he stroked deeply into you. You started to see stars; you tried your best to moan quietly but you couldn’t the feeling was too amazing. In perfect sync you two came together, you could feel the hot liquid deep inside you, thank God you were on birth control or you’d for sure be good as pregnant.

He still held you tightly and gave no signs of letting go, his dick softened inside of you.

“Yunho pull out so I can wipe up.”

“I want to stay in you forever Y/N, I love you so much.”

You couldn’t help but smile when he said that.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so awful to you, it’s not an excuse but you drive me so crazy, and hearing about that stupid group date my sister dragged you too pissed me off so bad. I want to be the only one taking you out, I want to be the only one seeing you like this…” He kept going, just spilling out all these feelings he had held in for years, you felt like your heart was going to explode. As he was still talking, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I like you too loser.” You kissed him again and he slid out of you, you could feel everything seeping out of you, he reached over to his bed side table and grab a few of the tissues that were in the tissue box. He carefully wiped out your overstuffed pussy and threw the tissues away. He pulled the cover over you both and brought you in too cuddle.

“Yunho, I have to sneak back into your sisters’ room before she wakes up.”

The door swung open, and your best friend stood in the door frame with dark circles under her eyes.

“Too fucking late for that, I’m glad you two worked out your feelings for each other but next time do it quietly and when I’m not fucking home.” She slammed the door as she left, and you and Yunho just laid their giggling with each other.

[flagellant]

I remember you once giving an EXCELLENT explanation of how magic “Doesn’t Exist but is Real” and how that kind of contradiction and reconciling it is so powerful?

Whenever you feel like answering this could you restate those concepts? I am working on actually thinking about my Practice and it’s Methods more lately and I feel that I highly agree with that sentiment you gave, but Tumblr’s search sucks.

I think I’m just now understanding a lot of that much more than when it was first said so I’d like to compare when you’re able to restate it

Religion isn't unscientific at its core. I think that's how I might phrase the contradiction these days: the idea that religion is fundamentally not unscientific at its core. Whatever else you can say about it.

Religion is fundamentally magical thinking, though, or at least often incorporates magical thinking. Religion is a sort of magic, also, after all--organized or unorganized, it is belief in something else. Something unexplainable. The idea that there is something you cannot see or cannot understand, but that this something matters to you, to your world.

And looking back, we see religion form again and again, in vacuums and when cultures meet and share and intermingle or oppose. Studying history at the end of the day will always require at least a little bit of studying religion with it. It is omnipresent--for better and for worse--in the way that it affects us, changes how we think, influences how we behave, structures the societies we live in.

Humans are illogical creatures, made of emotions and subjective dread. Magical thinking is fundamentally illogical. It is an attempt to find and understand reason in darkness, to comprehend the things we only see in the peripheries of our visions--but not always. Only often.

Because just as much as religion is magical and illogical, it was often borne out of our craving for understanding, for logic or explanation. We see a rainbow in the sky and we do not know where it comes from, or why we can never seem to reach it, so we try and find a logical explanation for this apparent impossible thing. The answer is magic--fairies, gods, witches. Or perhaps we look at the catastrophe of a storm, look at the all-encompassing wreckage of our homes, and we need to find a reason why this could happen to us. This couldn't be an accident, it has to be by design, because if it happened for a reason, we can understand it; we can give ourselves, if only slightly, the illusion of control. We propitiate an angry god, or we find someone who we have decided isn't like us and blame them for it.

Because the thing is, as much as we are creatures of illogic, we are terrified of it. It becomes existential rather quickly--the idea that all of this is for nothing, for random accidents, that you or your community isn't special or noteworthy or safe? The idea that your pain is shapeless and your terror is aimed at nothing at all? That's hard to imagine, let alone to find comfort in. Gods give a shape to the suffering. The invention of them is one which lets us take the illogical thinking and turn it against illogical thinking. Yes, it is unreasonable. No, it doesn't make sense. It is emphatically unempirical and there will likely never be any concrete proof of any religion's magical thinking being definitively confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt as True.

But it isn't unscientific. It was borne out of the same reason as science, the desire to understand and comprehend. It went only in a different direction than scientific thought did.

The space between science and religion is the difference between what exists and what is real. We walk along paths of trying to understand the world around or within us, and the paths in between those two points is where magic can be found. Neither existing nor unreal.

[portaltothevoid]

you're losing me part xiii

ao3 link

warnings: so much angst, tears, smut; fingering, hand job, thigh riding, quickie, little bit of a spit kink, p in v, rough sex, squirting, semi-public sex, (kind of accidental?) voyeurism, cum eating, weed use! smoking with papa!

word count: 11.3k (longest chapter yet!)

Hidden amongst the halls of the Ministry was a place where you would go for solitude. Not many people had reason to pass by here since the rooms in this wing of the top floor were mostly unoccupied. Centered in the hallway, overlooking the bustling grounds below, sat one of the many giant picture windows with a ledge just big enough for you to comfortably sit. You’d been curled up here for a while now, avoiding people. 

You’d managed to evade Copia over the past couple days. He was busy with not-so-secret meetings to prepare him to be the substitute Papa while you had been busy bonding with Phantom and the other Ghouls. They gave you comfort you didn’t even know you needed and felt like you had the family you always wanted. It was only a matter of time before your worries and stresses came back knocking, demanding your attention.

Today was his last show. You couldn’t stop thinking about him as much as you tried not to. Your thoughts clung to him like a magnet on a fridge. 

Your head had been resting on your knees, but as your mind circled the drain again and again, you leaned your head back with a groan. Even if you could do something, your hands were tied. You let your leg opposite the window slip down to touch the floor as you anxiously started to move it. Resting your temple on the cold glass, you tried to focus on the scene below you. Siblings and Ghouls alike were out for afternoon strolls, on their way into town for a night of fun, helping Primo tend his greenhouses… You chewed on your lip as you felt like a princess stuck in her tower. 

Lost in your pity party, you blocked out any and all sounds, missing the sound of footsteps that had become more and more familiar to you. It wasn’t until you felt a warm arm wrap around your calf and a head nuzzle into you near the bend at your knee, did you pull yourself from the inner workings of your mind to see Phantom curling up to you. 

“You’re so sad, Tater Tot,” he pouted. You really couldn’t stand the formality of being referred to as Your Eminence, so you asked the Ghouls to come up with something. You’d been munching on tater tots (for the second time that day) and after saying something sassy, Swiss responded with “Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Tater Tot!” After squeals from Cumulus and Sunshine, you’d been bestowed a Ghoulish nickname of your very own. 

No matter how deeply you sighed, it did nothing to relieve the crushing sorrow that had been currently placed on your chest. You longed to feel excited for what was to come, but the only thing you really allowed yourself to acknowledge was the dread of the unknown, of living a life you didn’t want, but need to for the “greater good.” You haven’t even ascended and already you were sick of it. 

“There are ways to keep things in these halls a secret if both parties are willing. There’s nothing that says you can’t have it all. You just have to be very clever and cunning about it.” And then of course, Secondo’s words kept echoing in your mind.

“I’m sorry, lovebug,” you sighed as you dropped your arm to rub his back. “Is it… is it really affecting you?”

You felt his shoulder rise and drop before he shook his head. “It’s a bit distracting, but only because I don’t know how to help.”

“There’s nothing you can really do… I don’t even think there’s anything I can do.”

“Do you… wanna talk about it? I was told about the prophecy before I was summoned for you, but it’s all… it gets confusing to keep up with everything.” You could tell by the way his eyes crinkled behind his silver mask that he was looking at you shyly. 

“The more I try to not think about Terzo, the more I do. I wish I could still hate him. That would make things so much easier,” you lamented as your head fell back against the cold marble behind you. “I just… I get this sick feeling in my gut when I think about what they’re doing. I think… I think this is why Terzo tried to bring about the prophecy the way he did, behind everyone’s backs? The more I think about everything in retrospect, the more I see power wasn’t what he necessarily wanted, but he did want to keep it away from those that don’t deserve it. He thought I would be able to… I don’t know, rise up quicker than I did to stop that? I just see what’s happening now… With how Sister Imperator is controlling everything, to how Copia’s changing slowly but surely… They say I have freewill, but I don’t think I do.”

Phantom nodded. “The greatest sacrifices are always greatly rewarded.”

You blinked, shocked by this sudden sage advice. “Wh-what?”

He chuckled. “Didn’t expect me to be so wise, huh? That’s a message from Lady Lilith. I was told I would give it to you when the time was right. You have power and you have intuition. You’ll know what to do. The only people you need to trust are Lucifer, Lilith, and yourself.”

“You have a wise Ghoul,” a voice sounded from across the hall, making both you and Phantom jump. As your heads whipped across to see the owner of the voice, you saw a very dapper man in a white suit with flowling silver hair and glowing red eyes. He was smirking at you. His shoulders moved in such a way that you knew he was silently laughing to himself, having scared you. 

Phantom scrambled to kneel in front of the man, bowing his head. “Oh, please, we needn’t be so formal right now,” he smiled as he waved away the Ghouls actions. “You’ve been questioning your freewill a lot, haven’t you, my child?”

Your mouth hung open slightly as you turned your body to fully face the man and that was when the realization hit you like a well-aimed kickball in gym class. “Lord Lucifer,” you breathed.

He nodded as he pushed himself off the wall. “I planned on visiting you a bit later, but even the most vital members of my flock need unprompted guidance sometimes,” he spoke smoothly as he sauntered towards you.

“I’m so afraid of making the wrong choice. I want to put the flock first, and myself last, but I don’t want to lose… everything in the process.” Your words spilled out in a panicked rush.

He paused to look at you thoughtfully. “Everything? Care to be more specific?” 

“I mean like…” Your shame, or maybe even your guilt, made you avert your eyes, looking at the floor and away from the Ministry’s patron deity that stood before you. Sucking in a shallow breath, “I don’t want to lose myself,” you revealed meekly. 

Now standing in front of you, he put his hand on your heart. The heat that radiated from it, you swore it would burst into flames at any moment. When you pulled your gaze from the floor and brought it up to his blazing irises, he was nodding. “Yes, you are being guided to make a certain choice. There are many reasons for that. Reasons you will not know for some time and reasons I cannot tell you right now. But trust. Confido fidei (trust faith). No one knows what is to come after the choice is made, not yet. There are much bigger things planned. Continue on the path you’re on. Don’t fear it. You are why we will be able to achieve more during this lifetime than ever before. Let them think they hold the power. Let them believe they have control. Soon you will see, my dear child. And you will laugh in their faces when they realize how they underestimated you. Both of you.” He leaned forward to gently kiss the top of your head.

Your eyes fluttered shut and when you opened them, you weren’t sitting on a windowsill at the abbey. You were on a couch. Phantom was still at your feet. Faint music could be heard surrounding you. In your shocked daze, you finally were able to listen closely enough to make out what you were hearing: Mummy Dust. That was the song being played.

Lucifer had transported you to the show. Terzo’s final show. 

You were quite literally pulled out of your stupor when Phantom excitedly tugged at your arm, dragging you out into a hallway. “Phantom, wait! What if someone sees us!?”

He kept walking as he turned to look back at you. “You named me Phantom for a reason. No one’s gonna see us! Come on, I wanna see Papa!”

Generally, the Ghouls bestowed upon the highest members of the clergy were almost always quintessence ones. Their abilities of teleportation and invisibility were used for safety. So, naturally of course, with you being on a fated course to be Lilith’s mortal representative of sorts, that was the element of your Ghoul. 

As the two of you meandered through the halls to get onto the floor to watch the show from front of house, you couldn’t help but ponder over why Lucifer put you here, why He wanted you to be here. Just when you thought you figured out your fate, more facets appeared. Clearly, there was more to the ascension than anyone had begun to realize.

When you both finally found a spot to watch the remainder of the show, Phantom bent down and patted his shoulders. With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you climbed on, gaining an unobstructed view over the crowd in front of you just as another song started. The second the first chorus began, it was like Terzo had zeroed in on you. 

The world is on fire.

His gaze, in particular his piercing white eye, which stood out amidst the man-made fog that clung to the stage, seemed to be looking right through you. Well, technically speaking he was since you were supposed to be invisible. Your body was supposed to be invisible. Not your essence, your presence. Even while focused on performing, perhaps it was merely subconsciously, he could feel you were there. Undoubtedly, there was a deep connection between the two of you, and neither had even begun to scratch the surface of it. Yet. 

And you are here to stay and burn with me.

 He outstretched his hand like he was reaching for you, just you. Absent-mindedly, you did the same. Two moths drawn to the same flame. An unspeakable nexus between you and him. 

He tore his eyes away from yours to continue with the performance of one of your favorite songs. You thanked and praised Lucifer for bringing you here. Being able to experience this, one last time… A gift you didn’t even know you desperately needed. Even during most of the encore song, you were able to enjoy yourself. But reality slapped you like a brick to the face once you remembered why you were here.

“Come on, sing it a little bit louder!” Terzo encouraged the crowd.

Your whole body tensed. He had no idea, even still. The crowd barely even reacted, but you saw them. Two burly men from a stage right door walked out, grabbing Terzo by the arms off the amp he was standing on. “Che cazzo! Ma che cazzo fate (What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing)?!” he shouted before the mic fell to the stage.

You could feel the panic rising from the Ghouls on stage. Aether tried to run after Terzo. When you noted more movement from the same side of the stage where the two goons came out of. This time, there were three. Two similarly dressed guard-looking types and a frail old man in white Papal regalia. Fury began to burn inside you. One of the men was carting an oxygen tank. 

Nihil. Papa fucking Nihil. Of course, Sister would have sent him here for this. You had seen enough.

After rapidly tapping on Phantom, he put you down. “We have to get to Terzo. Now,” you commanded. Before you could even take a step, you felt Phantom’s hand wrap around yours and the next thing you knew you were in the same room as before.

He won’t be able to see us until I know it’s safe. Phantom informed you telepathically while Terzo was pacing around the room. Omega was here too. He looked in your direction, but didn’t react when Terzo shouted, “Ho bisogno di risposte, Omega (I need answers)!”

You sighed angrily as you broke free from Phantom’s grasp. “Terzo,” you started to say as you rushed towards him. You stopped when he yelped like a scared puppy, since to him, you appeared out of thin air.

“Che cazzo, amore! What– Why are you– How did you–?” he stuttered, tripping over his words. 

“Um… Lucifer brought, or well, put us here,” you said hesitantly and almost bashfully.

“Lu— Lucifer?!” he stuttered again, still in shock as his adrenaline was on overdrive. “You saw Lucifer?”

“Yeah, but we have to talk about that later.” You stepped towards him, your hands outstretched to take hold of his arms. He stepped forward, meeting you in the middle. Gravitating towards the other like magnets, you held each other's arms just above the other’s elbow. “They’re officially revoking your title as Papa. That’s why you were pulled off stage. It’s… I don’t know what’s going on beyond that, but Terzo, they’re up to something. It’s not good, whatever it is. They did it this way because it’s for whatever’s next for the Ghost Proje–”

“You knew…” he breathed, his lips barely even moving. As if he touched hot iron, he took his hands away from you and stepped back a couple paces. “You knew and you didn’t… tell me?” he said, slightly more audible, but not any less hurt.

“Yeah, and it’s real shitty to be left in the dark, isn’t it? Look, we don’t have time for this! We need to get out of here!”

“And how do you think we do that, hm? I’m sure they’ll let us both walk right out the front fucking door!” he snapped.

You rolled your eyes. “There are two quintessence Ghouls here? We need to get back to the Ministry,” you said forcefully as you walked over to grab Phantom’s hand and dragged him over with you as you grabbed Omega’s.

“But Imperator forbade us from using unsanctioned teleportation…” Omega warned.

Your head whipped towards the towering Ghoul. Your eyes turned blacker than his outfit. “Aw, ‘but Imperator forbade us,’” you droned, mocking Omega, before shouting, “I don’t give a fuck what Imperator allows. Who allowed you the ability to talk? Me. Now grab Terzo and get us back to the fucking Minstry!” 

Omega nodded in panic. Both he and Phantom lunged at Terzo, wrapping their hands around his forearms. “Che–” he started to say, but before he got the next word out, they were already standing outside of the main entrance to the Ministry.

“ –Cazz-UGH!” Terzo finished his sentence by turning and throwing up into a nearby bush. 

You nodded. “Ah, is that why we’re outside and not inside?”

Omega shrugged and nodded. “He’s mostly human still and they don’t take very well… to… sudden teleportation.” 

This being your third time teleporting in the past hour and, well, ever… you were unaffected by it. The reality of your life made your stomach flip from Omega’s wording. Just because this had been your everyday life as of late, didn’t mean you had begun to process any of it. You shook your head and let out a breath hoping to expel some rising nerves along with it as you walked over to Terzo, rubbing his back. 

He shrugged you off as he stood up and stormed inside. 

“Hey!” you called after him, trotting to catch up to his fast pace fueled by anger. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm and spun him around to face you. Never in all the time that you’ve known him, had you seen such a fury shine through his eyes. “Hey,” you repeated, much softer this time. “I’m on your side.” Your grip loosened and you dragged your hand down his arm til your hand enclosed around his. “I’m on your side,” you repeated, staring into his eyes, and hoping the look on your face conveyed the conviction and sincerity you spoke with.

His body relaxed slightly as his hand tightened confidently around yours before his expression morphed into one of determination. “Then let’s go confront the bitch.”

Together you walked the halls of the Ministry to Sister Imperator’s office, hand in hand, feeling like a more solidified unit than you had in quite some time. You were about to round the last corner that led to the corridor which housed the senior most clergy members' offices, when you gently tugged at his hand, bringing your small group to a halt. You looked at Terzo with worry and sorrow etched into your face.

“We can’t…” You looked down at your joined hands, reluctantly pulling yours back to your side. “We can’t go in there like this.”

“I know,” he agreed quietly.

“I have to pretend– They have to think I’m theirs. Fuck, there’s so much I have to tell you.” Your shoulders sagged as a breath was pushed from your lungs by the weight of everything left unsaid.

“I know, amoruccio. I know.” He placed his hand on the side of your neck, fingers wrapped around towards the back, allowing him to angle your head down. With a half step forward, he leaned his forehead against yours. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your thumb across the back of his still gloved hand. After a few moments, he let go of you. One of his telltale smirks brightened his face. “You really do. You haven’t even introduced me to your Ghoul yet.”

Phantom did a little hop so he was in Terzo’s line of sight and waved to him. You happily rolled your eyes at the Ghoul’s antics. The other two couldn’t help but stifle their laughter. 

A calm settled over the four of you. The brief calm turned to sobered reality when the realization of what brought all of you to this moment settled on you like a weighted blanket. “Follow my lead?” you asked Terzo when a sudden plan popped into your head.

“Sempre (always),” he said with a nod, which you returned. 

After a deep breath, you shouted, “Goddammit, Terzo!” as you resumed the warpath to Sister Imperator's office. Turning the corner you continued, “This has nothing to do with me! It wasn’t my place to tell you!”

“So, you admit it, you did know! You knew the whole fucking time!” he shouted back, quickly figuring out the scenario you were acting out. 

“Aw, see? Being the last to know about something that’s happening to you really fucking hurts, doesn’t it? Gotta love karma!”

“Don’t even go there. This is completely different and you know it. You could have at least given me a heads up!” 

“I don’t owe you shit,” you retorted as you stood with your hand on the door knob. “And you know what? I’m sick of you taking your shit out on me. You wanna yell and whine and cry to someone?” You threw the door open. “Fucking have at it!” you concluded, holding the door open and he stormed in.

Sister Imperator’s eyes were round, nearly growing in size as she registered that it was actually Terzo who was bearing the brunt of your aggression and accompanying you as you burst through the door. Copia was in her office, too. Oh, how convenient. He didn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face, especially when you walked over to him and leaned on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. He flashed you a quick smile, a pleasantry which you didn’t return, playing it off due to being too annoyed from the situation at hand. 

“Well? Is anyone going to fucking say anything or just sit around and fucking gawk at me?” Terzo huffed, throwing his arms up in the air.

“The show only ended less than an hour ago. How is it that you are already here?” Sister Imperator raised an eyebrow and directed her authoritative gaze at you. “And what were you doing with them?”

“Ghouls, obviously, Sister,” Terzo said condescendingly to the older woman as he rolled his eyes.

Your palms went up in an act of defensive surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into this. Phantom and I were coming back from a walk outside and poof!” You imitated a sudden burst with your hands. “They just appeared right in front of me.” 

“Unsanctioned teleportation is forbidden,” Sister chastised. 

Terzo let out a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a squeak. “For fuck’s sake, with her here,” he waved his whole arm in your direction, “all your rules for the Ghouls are null and void. And I think my Papacy being publicly revoked without any indication whatsoever warrants an emergency teleportation to get some fucking answers!”

With a heavy sigh, she curled her lips in, shaking her head while looking to the ground as if in a silent prayer for strength. “She will not and currently does not have the proper authority to override rules that I set in place until her ascension is complete.”

“Uh, okay, and Ghouls can use their words now because of me, but sure, yeah. What authority do I have?” You rolled your eyes now. “Omega, I think you did a fine job taking care of the human you are bound to in his time of distress.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” Omega acknowledged aloud with a nod, which earned them an ice-cold glare from Sister Imperator. 

“Well, would you look at that…” you mumbled indignantly, while shooting Imperator a look that said ‘told you so.’ 

Copia even let out a short burst of laughter at your defiance, especially when Terzo shot you a look, which he took to be one of frustration for being ignored. You, on the other hand, knew it was more of a warning. You had to tread lightly.

“Enough.” Sister Imperator briefly pinched the bridge of her nose as she collected her thoughts and quieted her frustration, before she turned her attention to Terzo. “Your album cycle is over now. Therefore, publicly, we need a fresh and younger face to represent our Ministry. We need to redirect the path you were leading us down.”

“A path that led us to our first appearance on American television and a Grammy, but yes, what a sordid path that was. Let’s change course!” Terzo interjected snarkily.

“Somewhere along the way you lost the seriousness of our teachings. Quite frankly, you were too goofy. For me, the kazoo was the last straw along with your blasé attitude.”

“Don’t insult my kazoo finesse! It is more difficult than it looks.” You had to suppress a giggle that wanted to escape, so you bit down hard on your lip. Memories of Terzo and his kazoo flooded your mind, but now wasn’t the time to reminisce. So, you shook your head, trying to dispel them. Luckily the simple action just made you look as tired as Sister Imperator was of Terzo’s antics and flare for the dramatics. 

After another heavy sigh, Sister continued, “With the ascension looming, it is the perfect time for the transition. Copia will become our new Fidei Defensor (Defender of the Faith) of sorts.”

You let out another scoff. “So what does that make me? Anne Boelyn?” You dropped your voice to grumble agitatedly to yourself, “Maybe this is a fucking monarchy…”

Copia reached over to pat your leg. “No, cara mia. I’ll always choose to work through our issues, not behead you.” He quietly laughed at his own joke, but really it was more of a subtle jab, which he made a point to direct his smirk at Terzo, whose similar dichromatic eyes blazed with fury.

Sister Imperator cleared her throat. “Copia is not officially recognized as being a part of the bloodline, and with Papa Nihil still being alive, he will appoint Copia who will take over leading the Ministry for the time being, seeing as how he is our current most senior clergy member. I already have preparations being made to inform the audience of the Ghost project of the news.”

“Thank you, Sister,” Copia said with a nod and held out his fist for a fist bump, but when he just stared at his hand, he just knocked twice on the desk with his knuckle. 

“So that’s it. I’m thrown away like yesterday’s newspaper and replaced with… him?”

“Terzo, you will always be our Third Papa. We could not have gotten where we are today without your…” she paused for a moment, clearing her throat, “without you. We still hold you in the highest regard and with the utmost respect,” she smiled warmly at the now-former Papa, but still, the smile seemed forced. She was acting like the head of HR letting a star employee go due to budget cuts: formal and fake. 

“Now, we need to focus on the upcoming rituals,” she continued with her commanding, all-business tone in an effort to steer the subject away from the Papacy before Terzo had even more of a meltdown. “Tomorrow evening, each of you will pledge yourselves to your patron deities. Our star of the show will be pledging herself to Lilith, of course. As for you two,” her eyes darted between Terzo and Copia, almost hesitantly testing the waters as if putting the two of them together in the same sentence would set off some kind of chain reaction, “your deity will present themselves to you. They will offer you all guidance for the final ritual. The following day, you will meet with our High Priestess to receive a tarot reading for clarity on the next phase of your journeys. This isn’t a requirement for the ascension, but any and all wisdom should be welcomed. Through tomorrow’s ritual, our soon to be Papessa Electus Prima will provide us with insight for the ascension itself. We have knowledge of the basics, but more intricate details have to be divinely provided so as to preserve its sacredness. Now that we are all on the same page, please get the hell out of my office.”

“Okie dokie, thank you. Thank you again, Sister,” Copia said as he slapped his thighs and rose from his seat. He bowed slightly at Imperator who smiled, a warm twinkle in her eye. Quickly that faded when she watched Terzo storm out of the office. You were too busy being concerned about Terzo to even register that Sister Imperator had said what your title will be once the ascension has been completed.

Omega, tell him I’ll find him later tonight. I won’t let him go through this alone. You thought to Terzo’s Ghoul just before he stepped out into the hallway. 

You got it, Tater Tot.

Phantom shifted awkwardly, ringing his hands together. Before you could offer him any comfort, you were distracted by Copia’s hand on the small of your back as you stood. Together you walked out of the room. Copia closed the door behind you, but not before turning back and offering a small wave to Sister Imperator. As the three of you started to walk, Copia asked, “Will you be joining me for dinner tonight, or will your company be the Ghouls?”

You couldn’t have planned your alibi better if you tried. “I was going to join the Ghouls for one more night. You know, just to get more acquainted with them.”

“The past few days haven't been enough?” he laughed nervously, but somewhere underneath that you could hear his annoyance. 

“I wasn’t supposed to say anything…” Phantom spoke up, “but we have something planned for Her Eminence tonight. Uh, since the Ghost Ghouls will be back, and I haven’t met them yet, um, I would feel a lot better if Tater Tot, um, I mean Her Eminence! I’d feel better if she was there with me.”

“Tater Tot?” Copia’s eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Hm, cute nickname. It suits you.” That nickname was only for your Ghouls to use. It sounded wrong falling from his lips. You caught yourself before you started to ball your fists, so you played it off by waving your hand up to his chest. 

“I won’t stay there the whole night, but I don’t know how late I’ll be…” you tried to reassure Copia. You came to a stop as you reached the part of the Ministry where the clergy’s quarters were to the left and the Ghoul den was to the right. Slinking your arms around his waist, you gently started to sway as you put on your cutest smile. “In the morning, I’m all yours.”

Letting out a breath through his nose, he placed his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. He leaned down so his forehead was touching yours, causing you to still as you looked into his eyes. “Lucky for you, sono molto paziente (I’m very patient).”

Pushing up on your tiptoes, you kissed him. His hands slid up to gently hold your face between them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away. “Are you sure I can’t convince you?” he whispered.

Phantom stepped closed, crouching down between you both so the attention would be diverted to him. “It is a really good surprise. We’d be so sad if we had to wait!”

You shrugged, looking at Phantom and then back to Copia. “Come on, look at those puppy dog eyes. How can I say no?” Both of you chuckled softly. You moved one of your hands up to his face to trace along one of his sideburns. “Duty calls…”

“Sì, sì. I know. I just miss you,” he sighed before he gingerly kissed your forehead, stepping out of the embrace. One corner of his mouth turned upwards into a sly smile, “Tomorrow morning though, you’re mine.”

“All yours…” you said, or technically lied, as you held onto his hand. You needed him to believe that truth. Turning your Ghoul, “Phantom, go ahead without me. I won’t be long. Help them get the surprise set up,” you winked at him. I have to play along, tide him over. Your quick thinking was perfect. You added in your thoughts. 

“Okay, don’t take too long… Sodo might come looking for you. You know how impatient he is,” Phantom laughed as he turned to silently glide away towards the Den. 

Copia eyed you suspiciously as you turned back to him with a grin so mischievous it rivaled that of a succubus. There was an alcove tucked away nearby. With his hand still in yours you pulled him towards it. “Amore, what are you—?”

“Shhh,” you shushed, putting a finger to his lips, pausing briefly before you slowly dragged it down and then traced his bottom lip. “I know I haven’t been around lately and we don’t have much time now, but maybe I can still make it up to you…” Slowly you trailed your hands down the front of his cassock, until you forcefully grabbed the fabric of his pellegrina. Hastily, you guided him towards you as you spun around, backing yourself into the alcove and up against a wall. 

To steady himself, he put one hand against the wall beside your head. The other was tightly holding your hip. Roughly, you pulled him towards you until your bodies were flushed against each other. Your lips crashed into each other’s. The kiss was sloppy and crazed, near manic. He tried to slot his thigh between your legs, but the long fabric of his cassock got in the way. He broke away from you, muttering “Goddammit,” as he started to undo some of the buttons. You bent down to undo the lowest ones, working your way up until you met his hands that trembled from anticipation. Flinging the red fabric behind him, you hooked your fingers in his belt loops to bring him closer to you once again. 

He wasted no time sliding your habit up to your hips as your barely concealed core met his leg. Your quiet moan was muffled by your mouth moving against his as you began to grind on his thigh. You never stopped your movements as he breathed out, “What if someone sees us?” 

“Then let them see,” you smirked. His eyes searched yours as you saw the carnal, practically animalistic lust finally cloud his eyes. Unceremoniously, your lips crashed against his. You kissed up the side of his face, before dragging your tongue under his sideburn. When your mouth neared his ear, you nipped at his lobe. “Take what you want from me,” you growled. 

He pushed you harder into the wall as he used his leg to widen your stance. His left hand took hold of your shoulder, while his right dropped between your legs. With the gusset of your now dampened underwear out of the way, he dragged his leather-covered fingers up and down your folds as his thumb drew circles on your clit. 

Tucking your lips around your teeth, you hummed, leaning your head back against the wall. Involuntarily, your hips jutted against his hand, desperately trying to increase the friction. 

Suddenly, his movements stopped. You opened your eyes and before you could even whimper, “Eyes. On. Me.” he commanded. 

Wrapping your hand around his forearm attached to your shoulder, your eyes locked on his. “Brava ragazza,” he murmured, plunging two fingers inside you. Your nails dug into him as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. You leaned forward to unbutton and unzip pants, freeing his cock that was screaming for attention. Bringing your hand up to his face, you held out your palm in front of his mouth, which he lewdly licked. When you then cupped your hand under his chin, he spat in it. He hissed as you began to stroke his cock, matching the pace of his curling fingers. If it weren’t for the gloves, you could have seen his knuckles turn white against your shoulder. 

When the obscene sounds emanating from your cunt were loud enough for a passerby to easily hear, he abruptly took his fingers out of you. You let go of him as he took himself in his own hand to drag his length up and down your folds before he rubbed the weeping tip against your clit. “Fuck,” you groaned, as you rutted your hips along him, clawing at the back of his neck. 

Just when your nails had dug into his flesh almost to the point of drawing blood, he lined himself up and pushed himself inside you until there was no space between his hips and yours. With ease, his length filled you, stretching out your walls almost painfully slow. It took all you had for your legs not to buckle underneath you. Especially when he swiftly increased the pace of his thrusts and drilled into you relentlessly. You could feel your juices start to drip around his cock. That was when you brought your hands to his shoulders, pressing down as you hoisted yourself up to wrap your legs around his waist. 

With a grunt, he pushed you further into the wall as you enclosed your arms around his neck. The slight change in angle was everything you needed. Copia moaned into the crook of your neck, before biting your collar bone with a guttural growl. You shut your eyes, feeling the coil so close to snapping. “Diavolessa mia,” he groaned.

My she-devil. She-devil.

Truthfully, you couldn’t decipher if that turned you on or enraged you, but you felt something inside you snap, or rather, come alive. Whatever Infernal gift that lived inside you, now overrode your emotions. It heightened the disdain, the irritation, the hatred you felt for the man who thought this was a depraved act of love. No, for you, this was now just a means to an end. You were using him and the fact he believed the opposite spurred you on with a sadistic glee. Love had no place here with you, only a primal kind of lust. 

When you opened your eyes, you knew they were darker than the shadows that shrouded you. Copia couldn’t focus on anything else besides you, but in that moment, you managed to hear soft foot falls, the slight clacking of dress shoes, growing louder as they grew closer. From the ferocity of Copia pounding into you, you could care less about quieting the pants and moans that spilled from your lips. Your volume only increased, partly from the added arousal of being seen and partly to distract Copia from the fact someone would see. You watched as the person came into your line of vision and walked by, looking down at the ground, albeit with a smirk on his face. Slowly his head turned up to give you some sort of kudos for the defiant act of sin you were partaking in. 

You were so lost in the haze of an impending orgasm and not able to quickly recognize who exactly just entered your line of sight, who was within earshot. Purposefully, your moans got a bit louder still. 

But he would have recognized those sounds anywhere.

The accidental voyeur’s head snapped up, his mismatched eyes met your demonic ones. That look was all it took to send you hurtling over the edge. Instantly, your walls clenched around Copia. The coil didn’t just snap, it shattered. He pulled out of you just in time for your release as your whole body shook, but your eyes never wavered from the man in front of you. With an otherworldly growl, you could feel your juices drain out of you, sounding like someone dropped a glass of water onto the marble floor. 

Terzo’s mouth hung at the hinges as he looked to the floor, then back up at you. As he stared into your obsidian eyes, his white eye burned. You could feel it too, like an electric shock. You knew your aftershocks were because of him, because it was Terzo’s gaze that was boring into yours. Any emotion you had been feeling towards Copia was adamantly replaced with this deep feeling of longing for the man in front of you that you couldn’t… that you weren’t supposed to have. Slowly, Terzo pulled himself out of his trance. His face devoid of his Papal paints gave way for the anger and hurt he felt to shine through like a beacon in the night. Having seen more than enough, he retreated.

You barely noticed how Copia had pushed himself inside you again to chase his own release. It was only when he whispered, “I’m close. Cazzo, I’m gonna–” gruffly in your ear, did you pull yourself out of your own trance you had found yourself in. Your eyes returned to normal as you dropped your unsteady legs to the floor and lowered to your knees. 

Gazing up at Copia, looming over you as he now stroked himself at a relentless pace, you waited, open mouthed and tongue out. Just the way you knew he wanted you. Mere seconds after he placed the tip of his cock on your tongue, he leaned forward bracing himself again with one hand on the wall. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth of his cum hit your face and tongue. For the moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it was someone else standing before you. The fantasy was short-lived when you heard nothing but your heaving breaths. 

Dutifully, you took him in your mouth, sucking off any of his spend that remained. Swallowing as you stood, his eyes shone with admiration for you. Had it not been for the previous distraction, you would have been proud of yourself, but all you could feel was guilt ripping apart your chest. 

No sooner had you removed the back of your hand from your mouth, it was replaced with a hard kiss as Copia held your arms in a vice grip. Any remaining cum on your face, he licked off of you. Again, he rested his forehead atop yours as you both came down from two very different highs. “Grazie,” he said through a breathy chuckle.

“Told you, I wanted to make it up to you,” you remarked with a half smile. 

“You sure you won’t be, eh, too worn out for your little Ghoul party?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t you worry.” You weren’t sure who you were reassuring: him or yourself.

Gently, he kissed your forehead, then backed up to tuck himself back in his pants and straighten out his cassock. “‘Til tomorrow morning then, topolina mia.” He started to leave and just as he was about to exit the alcove, he turned just enough for you to see his profile. The way the light hit him made his smirk seem almost sinister. “I understand why you were so enamored with him. We’ll have to do this again sometime, hm? Oh, and, ehm, have fun with your Ghouls… Tater Tot.” You noted the subtle shake of his shoulders as he laughed while he left to return to his quarters.

You froze in place at his words. The hem of your habit barely moved past your hips. Darkness swirled in your eyes like the oncoming of a hurricane’s eye wall after the eye had passed. All you wanted to do was run after him and grab him by the back of his neck and watch his blood stain the white marble underneath you. Your eyes scrunched shut so tightly you could feel the surrounding muscles working overtime. As you focused on breathing in and out slowly, Terzo’s dejected expression flashed through your mind. You had to find him. Seeing you like that… That was the last thing he needed to see today. 

After smoothing out your habit and fixing your hair, you started off in the direction you had seen him go. Luckily it was in the same direction as the Ghoul’s Den. 

You knew you needed to give him some time and desperately wanted to remove any trace of what just happened, so no sooner had you walked through the threshold of the den, did Cumulus and Sunshine rush right to your side. Aside from the look on your face and your disheveled state, you’re sure they could smell part of what you had just done. 

They ushered you to a nearby bathroom that was en suite to one of their rooms. “Oh, honey, what happened? Your emotions don’t match…” Sunshine wondered.

Everything started to pour out of you as the Ghoulettes assisted you getting yourself cleaned up. How you’ve come to despise Copia because of the prophecy and Imperator’s games, how your worry about Terzo somehow called in Lucifer who brought you to him, which brought you to Imperator’s office, which led you to try to satiate Copia with an alcove quickie. Something that was in fact an idea you did actually borrow from your time with Terzo, so Copia’s comment, you knew, was premeditated, only fueling your rage even more. The only reason you even came up with that plan was to get him off your trail, so you could go and see Terzo, but he just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Now the image of his pained and despondent expression was burned into your memory. 

“He was here, you know, Papa Terzo,” Cumulus said almost hesitantly. Sunshine nudged her in the ribs, but she waved the other Ghoul off. “He was giving something to Omega. I think it was… It doesn’t matter what it was. He loves you, Tater Tot.”

“I know,” you spoke with a hushed tone, but even that didn’t keep your voice from breaking. “It’s like no matter what we do, we’re destined to hurt each other.”  

Sunshine handed her a pair of black pants that were part of their uniform and a matching black button down shirt. The pants fit perfectly, but the shirt was oversized, so you tied it at your waist. You tossed your hair up into a messy bun, allowing your bangs and stray curls to frame your face perfectly. 

The Ghoulettes nodded at you in approval. “He won’t hate you for what he saw.”

“I don’t think he could hate you if he tried or if Omega’s life depended on it,” Cumulus said, her eyes sparkling. 

You let out a quick breath of a laugh, nodding in agreement. Sunshine put her hand on your shoulder. “Go to him,” she encouraged.

You remembered how he headed back the same direction he had come. It didn’t take long for you to realize that that way, while also leading to the Ghoul’s Den, also led to a side door, which led to a path that went through Primo’s garden. While the path wrapped around the perimeter of the Ministry grounds, not too far off on the outskirts of them was a lone sycamore tree just before the river that was hidden by the neighboring forest. 

For whatever reason, despite its majestic beauty, Siblings never frequented this spot. Rarely anyone sought refuge under its branches. Except Terzo. This was his spot. His place for respite from the troubles which plagued him because of his place in the Ministry. It wasn’t long before it became your spot too. In fact, one of the first times he requested your company, alone, he took you there. Whenever you both ended up at that tree, he was always honest. He was vulnerable. 

If he was anywhere within the Ministry, that was where you knew you would find him.

The gravel crunched under your shoes as you crossed your arms over your chest in an effort to shield yourself from the crisp, autumn air as the setting sun fell with the temperature. Ahead of you, you could just make out a figure sitting under the sycamore tree. A cloud of smoke drifted away, carried by the wind in front of him. There was a moment you almost smiled. Memories of happier times danced into your mind, but they were quickly squashed by the worry of what you would even say when you did reach him. 

Guilt clawed its way into the forefront of your thoughts. You shouldn’t feel guilty for what he saw. Not after what he did to you. Not after you discussed with him the choice you knew you had to make. And yet, there it settled on your conscience like a cinder block. No matter whether you were together or not, it seemed like all you did was hurt each other, sometimes intentionally, sometimes inadvertently. You hated it. All you wanted was for this ordeal to be over. Even if that meant your happiness would be confined to the shadows.

The scent of weed wafted towards you as your footfalls became audible to the man who sat holding a lit joint between his fingers. You didn’t say anything as you sat down next to him, staring ahead at the expanse of nature before you. Wordlessly, he held it out to you, which you took, silently thanking Satan for the mental relief that was moments away. After a couple hits, you went to pass it back, but he just shook his head. It was three quarters of the way gone already, so you took it upon yourself to finish it. Once you snuffed it out, you pulled your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them for something to rest your chin on.

There were a few beats of silence. Enough time for your lids to feel heavy and your thoughts to quiet slightly. You tried your best to be present in the moment as you listened to the rustling of the dying leaves above you, felt the coolness of the grass underneath you, watched the shadows of the tree dance on the ground in front of you. 

“Did you feel something when you realized it was me…?” Terzo asked you, being the first one to break the silence, his voice cautious and barely above a whisper.

“It was like… this jolt of electricity.”

“Hmm. I felt it too. In my eye. The white one. Wonder what it means…”

“Maybe it was because we have this strong connection, I don’t know,” you guessed with a shrug, but then the obviousness of your statement dawned on you both. 

Slowly your heads turned toward each other. The two of you erupted into laughter, the most either had laughed in days. Laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe, you pressed against him as you leaned to the side. He pushed back into you. You shifted enough so his leg was against your back as you looked up at him, giggles slowly subsiding. The way he looked down at you, a wistful smile on his face, his eyes shining with an amusement you’d almost forgotten as of late, the way his hair fell away from his face… You’d be lying if you claimed it didn’t make your heart skip a beat. 

He closed his eyes, shaking his head, his hair swishing back and forth. “I think you’re onto something, amata mia,” he chuckled. 

“You know, I just have this hunch…” you giggled again. 

He took one of your hands and laced his fingers through yours, staring off in the distance in front of you as he absentmindedly caressed your thumb with his. He let out a heavy sigh, serving as a reminder for the circumstance of the clandestine meeting. 

“I’m sorry you had to… that you saw that…” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze as yours locked on your intertwined hands. 

“Why are you sorry? That’s the least I deserve. It’s karma. It’s karma for something I can never atone for.”

“It’s in the past. It fucking sucked but…” Your eyes closed as you tried to expel your melancholia. “I just wish we could stop hurting each other.”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore, amore.” You looked up at him again to see how he clenched his jaw as he swallowed. “Tell me how your summoning ritual went,” he murmured.

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. “I went into the trance and there he was. Started out like a black mist and then slowly got more human-shaped. He said Lilith had sent him. He asked me if I wanted to bond with him and the next thing I know I’m, like, jolted back into my body. And then there he was! I ran right over to him and told Secondo to get him a robe, because he shouldn’t be exposed like that while adjusting to mortality.” While recounting the events to Terzo, you were staring up into the tree, but slowly dragged your eyes to him when you heard a giggle. “What’s so funny? How’s that funny? How would you feel if you were zapped out of your Hell home and thrown into… whatever this is!” You glared at him with half-opened eyes as you lazily, yet emphatically waved your hand around.

“It’s just a very ‘you’ thing to do,” he laughed, shaking his head slightly. “We’ve always given a newly summoned Ghoul their space, approach them slowly and with caution. No one’s ever just ran right up to them.”

“Yeah, because most of the clergy treat them as just ‘The Help’ and forget their human side,” you grumbled.

“I don’t treat my Ghouls like that!” Terzo glaring at you defensively.

“I said ‘most of the clergy.’ Not all. Chill, Stoney Tenerone (big softie),” you reassured with a smirk. He just rolled his eyes. “Anyway, now I know why everyone seemed kind of shocked. So, then we did the blood bond. I spoke to him my way, so I guess that’s also why everyone was shocked. We just kind of went and did the thing… silently. And then I grabbed him and we went to the Ghoul Den and got him his outfits. I got to meet more of the Ghouls and I basically spent all my time with them. Which was perfect because I did not want to deal with Copia.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust.

Terzo scoffed. “Trouble in paradise?”

“1.) Fuck you. 2.) It’s far from paradise. And 3.) He pissed me off.” Terzo raised an eyebrow, wordlessly encouraging you to elaborate. “Well, first he casually dropped the bomb that he knew what was happening to you at the final show after we… made up…” You cleared your throat. “He’s starting to get… possessive. Like– like the power is already going to his head…” Your thoughts drifted for just a moment. Quickly you continued before Terzo got a chance to ask you to explain. “Anyway, the next morning, apparently Imperator told him I needed to make an appearance at breakfast. So, of course, that was the last thing I wanted to do. All I wanted to do was sleep. But noooo. Right as I was about to enter, I kind of clammed up and didn’t want to go in. And you know what he fucking said to me?”

“Something stupid?”

“He compared me walking in there and having everyone’s eyes on me because of whatever they think is going on with me as if it were just like the times when I went in there with my head held high when everyone was whispering about what you were doing behind my back.”

“And you didn’t try to kill him for saying that?”

“Not that time. I just showed him who has more power and that it’s not him. I went and sat in your seat at the clergy table.” You beamed at him triumphantly.

He let out a laugh. “I’m sure Imperator loved that.”

“She told me to move and I just flashed her my eyes and was like ‘I think I’ll stay right here,’” You reenacted, showing him how easily you could switch back and forth from your infernal gaze. “Then he tried to order one of my Ghouls to get him breakfast and I shut that down so fast. He tried to make it seem like I was putting on a show because of what was happening to you, but I basically just said how for once people are gossiping about me and what I’m doing and not whose bed I’m in. That shut him up. Then Secondo saved me by helping me with the ritual prep.”

“So when was the time you wanted to kill Copia?”

“Earlier tonight. He’s getting more… I don’t know. I just don’t fucking trust him. First, he called me la sua diavolessa. Then when I… When we were done… He fucking smirked and was like ‘Oh I see why you were so enamoured with him. Let’s do this again. Go have fun with the Ghouls,” and then used the nickname that they call me! As if it was his to use! It’s fucking not. And the way he fucking knew I got the alcove move from you. Like. He’s just trying to upset me at this point.” You let out your frustration with a heavy exhale through your nose. Suddenly as your train of thought veered slightly from the path it was on, your face softened as you looked up at him. “Hey, do you remember when you asked me if I loved him?”

His brows knitted together, unsure of where you were going with this. He only cautiously nodded in response. 

“I don’t think I ever did. I thought I did, but… He was just giving me what I needed to fill a void. I needed comfort and somehow he was just always… there.” He brushed hair away from your eyes. It was impossible for him to hide the smirk on his face. “Don’t even say it,” you warned with a light tone.

“Say what? That I was right and you would choose me in the end? No, I’d never say something like that,” he teased. “Wait, you saw Lucifer.”

“Speaking of the end of all this… yeah. He mentioned that and how we need to let this play out, let them underestimate the both of us.”

“The both of us?” he reiterated.

“Phantom said the only ones I need to trust are Lilith and Lucifer. It’s us against them, I guess. I sure as shit will never trust Sister Imperator or Copia for that matter…”

“I never did either. Why do you think I didn’t tell anyone about how I… about what I was–”

“I knew it!” you squealed as you bolted upright and turned to face him. “I finally realized that today. Just before I saw Lucifer. I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“No,” he interrupted sternly. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It doesn’t matter if you understand now or not. I should have trusted that you would understand. I should have told you. I never should have–” He stopped himself from continuing. His intake of breath was shaky at best. “There’s a reason she calls herself Imperator,” he snarled. 

“She wants all the control. She… she knows more than she lets on.” Just then, as cliche as it was, a lightbulb went off in your head. “Hey, how did you even think to start looking into the prophecy?”

“Porca puttana!” he growled. “When we first started being intimate, I noticed the mark on your back. I looked up the mark of Lilith, but there was nothing about a prophecy. Until… Our summer holiday. You were in the pool. Sister stood next to me and said something about your birthmark. I responded by saying it was almost as if you had her mark. Within days after getting back, somehow there were texts on my desk that led me to the prophecy. She knew. That bitch fucking knew.”

“She knew you’d get obsessed with it, didn’t she?”

Terzo nodded. “She knew the whole fucking time! Cazzo, and here I was thinking keeping it from everyone was the safe way to do it.”

“How much do you think she knows? How much does Copia know? Fuck. Fuck! Are we still in the dark? Do they know more than us?!” Your voice started to rise with your panic.

Terzo rotated at his torso, putting both hands on your shoulders to turn you towards him. “Listen to me. Lucifer showed himself to you–”

“Yeah and he showed himself to Copia, too. That doesn’t make me–” You cut off Terzo, but he did the same to you.

“Yes, it does. You are special, amata. They chose you.”

Your brows furrowed, realization flashing across your face. With a distant voice, you spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself that these words were true, “He… Lucifer said that it’s because of me they’ll be able to achieve so much…” 

“See?” he said in a hushed tone, moving his hands up to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed soothingly along your cheeks. You couldn’t help but let your eyes close as you leaned into his touch. Resting his forehead on yours he continued, “Believe in yourself, like He does, like I do, like I always have.”

Worry pulled at your eyes as you gently pushed him back enough to look at him. “This kind of shit doesn’t come without a price, even I know that. I just have such a horrible feeling this isn’t going to end well. No matter what we do. I don’t think…” your voice cracked, rendering you unable to speak the words that danced on your lips.

“Nothing is going to keep me from you. Niente.” You nodded in agreement as he pushed himself back, turning so his back was against the tree. He widened his legs, “Vieni (come here),” he beckoned. 

You maneuvered yourself around, scooting up so that your back was flush against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. Crossing your arms over his, you intertwined your fingers together.

Out of nowhere, your upper body started to shake from the way you were laughing. After teasingly kissing your neck, he drawled, “What’s so funny, amata?”

You moved your head to the side, craning your neck away from him. “Secondo told me how there are ways to keep this a secret. We just have to both be willing and, uh, I think he said we have to just be clever and cunning about it too.” 

“Hmm, davvero (really)?” he murmured, pulling you even closer as he constricted his arms around you while nuzzling into your neck. 

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in agreement as he started to leave a trail of kisses up the side of your neck. You sighed, turning your head as you leaned back as when he neared your jaw. Bringing your hand up to his face as his lips met yours. When his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, your hand slid behind his head as you let him in. You could feel the vibrations in his chest from his quiet moan against your back after you tethered your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and started to pull.

Swiftly, you broke away from the kiss and turned yourself so you were facing him, knees on either side of his hips, straddling him. You grabbed his face, holding him gently in your hands as you leaned down to kiss him with a higher intensity than before. His hands fisted the linen fabric of your shirt at your waist. It didn’t take long for you to start grinding your hips down and against his, but he let go of your shirt to push back your hips. 

It wasn’t until he broke away from the kiss did you fully realize he was stopping you. You eyed him curiously. “What’s… wrong?” you spoke slowly, trying to find your words between the high you still felt and the daze from the kiss. 

“Amore,” he looked up at you, his eyes pleading, “we can’t–”

“No, we shouldn’t.” You leaned back in and started to kiss his neck.  “Can’t and shouldn’t… are two… different things,” you muttered in between continuous kisses.

His hands moved up your arms to your shoulders where he gently pushed you back again. Your hands slid down to his chest. His eyes were watered down with sadness. He shook his head.

You pushed back to get a better look at him. Your lips parted in disbelief and disappointment. “Why?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. “Is it because of the tree?”

“Wh-what? No? Wait, what kind of spell do you think I cast over this tree?”

“People can’t, ya know, do stuff under it?”

He sighed, shaking his head at you. He wanted his demeanor to remain serious, but he couldn’t help but crack a small smile at you. “No, amore. Wait, how high are you? We’ve ‘done stuff’ here on more than one occasion. It’s not that you can’t lie with another under this tree, but that you can’t lie to another. Very simple misunderstanding I never bothered to correct to ensure Siblings avoided this area… ” he chortled. 

“How the hell could I forget?” you giggled as you dropped your head into your palm. “Hey, wait!” you exclaimed, snapping your head up to glare at him. “So, now you don’t want me? What the fuck, Terzo! Who knows if we’ll get this chance again before the ascension or what’s even going to happen after it!?”

“If we go through with this, I’m not… I don’t know if I’ll be able to hide it, to hide from you.”

“Or you just don’t want to be kept a secret. Terzo, you’re gonna have to figure it out if we’re gonna make this work.”

He blinked at you. “Che..?” When it sunk in what you were saying, he moved to get out from under you. You followed suit as he stood up. “No. No! Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart.”

“I could– I will never love Copia the way that I love you. Fuck, I can’t even lie to you here! I already told you I never loved Copia, that it was never like that! It was never like what we have!”

“I can’t. I can’t risk losing you.”

“You won’t. I’m willing– I want to make this work. Even if we have to hide it. You’re the one I want, Terzo.”

“I’m the one you want,” he scoffed. “Yeah, you want me, but you won’t fucking choose me!”

“You know why I can’t. I told you already! My hands are tied! I have to see this through the way They want– the way Lucifer wants.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Lucifer wants!” he yelled, throwing his arms up in the air as he moved past you. You were quicker though, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to face you.

“This is bigger than us. Bigger than our relationship,” you said, your jaw clenched as you tried to fight the raging fire that was threatening to consume you from the inside out. “Terzo, I love you. It’s always been you.”

“But you’re his now,” he muttered. He kept his voice low in an attempt to keep it from cracking, but you could hear the tremble that he couldn’t hide.

“He’s the only one that thinks that.” You let go of his arm only to take his hand in yours. “Terzo, please,” you begged.

He moved his arm in a circular motion, breaking free from your hold and took a step away from you. “Don’t. Don’t do this to me,” he warned. His voice cracked as he couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. 

You stepped towards him, your hand outstretched. He shook his head, hair falling to cover his eyes. A tear cascaded down his cheek. “Don’t,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, before he stormed back towards the Ministry. 

Your face dropped as you watched him flee. You couldn’t call out to him; you didn’t know what to say. Any possible word, even his name, died in your throat. Tears now pricked your own eyes. Backing up, you shook your head, and kept going until your back hit the sycamore behind you. Slowly you slid down along the rough bark. Without taking your eyes off his retreating form, he soon blurred from the tears that began to fall in rapid succession. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you broke down. 

Suddenly you felt warmth beside you. You looked up to see Phantom putting his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Turning to bury your face in his shirt, you sobbed.

There was no comfort in knowing you would laugh in the face of those who think they hold the power, in knowing that somehow eventually you would be standing beside the one you loved. It didn’t matter that Lucifer himself was the one that told you this information. All of that was in the future, a future so unclear and shrouded in a fog so thick, it might as well be nonexistent. Right now, all you were left with was the overwhelming feeling of your heart breaking, over and over again.

part xii | part xiv

taglist: @beelzebzb @bitchywitchygardener @calitmediondell @copias-juicebox @copiasprincipessa @da-rulah @deetz-ghuleh @discountdemonwarehouse @fishwithtitz @ghostfangirlsweden @ivycasket @justa19 @ladyrevealedofcloak @lurancyvenom @popiaswife @sodoswitchimage @water-ghoulette @zombiesnips-blog

[teaberrii]

Relief

You get much more than you bargained for when you visit the newest doctor in town.

Baizhu/You

Warnings: Smut

Notes: Cross-posted on Ao3

This idea came to me so suddenly and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. So... HERE IT IS.

You are never a fan of visiting the doctor.

But after telling your friend about how bad your insomnia is getting, she “strongly recommends” you see the newest and, apparently, hottest doctor in town. You’ve heard about him. Tall. Mysterious. Handsome. Skilled. You raise an eyebrow at how she described him. He sounds like a male lead who walked out of a romance or erotic novel... and you cannot deny your curiosity. So, even though you always dread visiting the doctor’s office because of past experiences, you ultimately decide to try and see if this doctor is really as good and hot as everyone says.

As soon as you walk inside the clinic for your appointment, something about it already makes you feel at ease. Perhaps it’s the cool, calm colours of the wall. Or the soft hum of the music. Whatever it is, you’re not regretting it… so far.

“Hello.” A woman around your height walks up to you. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes.” Then, you give her your name.

She smiles. “Right this way.”

You follow the woman to a room at the back. She opens the door, and you see a man sitting at a desk. When he spins around, you meet a pair of snake-like eyes. He has a relaxed demeanour, something not too different from what you're expecting. Yet, despite his kind smile that unexpectedly makes your heart race, something about him feels off, and you don’t know why.

“Hello,” he says. Great. Even his voice is dripping like honey. He gestures for you to sit on the patient's bed. “Take a seat.”

As you do, the woman closes the door, and your hands start fiddling with each other. “Are you nervous?” he asks, eyes on your hands.

“Oh, um”—you stop fidgeting—“it’s a habit,” you say quietly.

“Don’t be nervous,” he chuckles. Then, he looks you in the eyes. “I won’t bite.”

His eyes are so entrancing that you forget to speak.

“So, what seems to be the problem today?”

His voice snaps you back, and you say, “I’m having trouble sleeping at night.”

“Is it stress, perhaps?”

“Well…” Your eyes land on a corner of the room.

“There are many reasons for insomnia, my dear.”

That’s a nickname you never imagined he would say.

“Stress… a poor environment… depression… have you talked to anyone else before me?”

You slowly look back and see him staring at you with that gentle smile. “No,” you say quietly. “But I’ve been looking things up online and trying different remedies, but nothing seems to work.”

“I see… What have you tried?”

So, you tell him about making tea, switching sleeping environments, changing your sleep schedule, and drinking less. But nothing has worked.

“Would you mind telling me when and how long your insomnia has been happening?”

You aren't surprised he asked this, but you wish he didn't. Well, at least you came prepared to answer the question.

"Um, well… I've been stressed lately. Both in my personal and professional life. And, I think it started when"—your face turns slightly red—"when I can't find pleasure in sex anymore." You're relieved when his expression doesn't change. Rather, he looks even more focused than before. "That has always relieved my stress and helped me sleep. But now it's just… frustrating."

“Did you have a partner?”

“My ex-boyfriend,” you say quietly.

“...I’d like to try something if you don’t mind.” You look at him curiously. “It’s a type of sensual massage.”

Did he just say… sensual massage? This is not what you signed up for. Rather, you’re expecting a doctor’s note for some medicine you probably never heard of.

“You… aren’t going to give me some weird medicine?”

He chuckles softly. “I could if that’s what you want. But my medicine tends to be quite bitter. Bitter than most. And”—he steps toward you and slightly leans forward—“I’d rather try something sweet on you.”

His low voice sends a delicious shiver down your spine. Good Lord. It’s only been fifteen minutes, and you’ve told this man more than you told your friend in weeks. You swallow thickly, your curiosity once again getting the best of you.

Then, before you can stop yourself, you say, “...Okay.”

"Of course, you're free to stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable," he reassures.

He grabs another pillow and gestures for you to lie on the bed. Once your head hits the pillow, you have one underneath your back. He puts one hand beside your head, and with that gentle, charming smile, he says, “Bend your knees, my dear.” You do so. Then, in a low whisper, “Now… open your legs for me.”

You can hear your heart hammering in your chest. Is it fear? Excitement? You can’t tell anymore. Your emotions are spinning round and round as he dims the lights. You hear his quiet footsteps approach you and feel the gentle touch of his hand brush your hair out of your face.

He moves behind you, and you close your eyes and hear him softly say, “Breathe in…” You do. “And out…” You do. "Now... close your eyes"—he once again watches you do as you're told—"and just feel."

His hands start warming up your shoulders and up to your neck. Your body is already relaxing despite the absurdity of the situation. It doesn't take long for him to move down, and you hear his footsteps beside you. You open your eyes and see he's looking at you, but his eyes are surprisingly… dark compared to the gold rim of his glasses. When his hand finds a clothed breast, you arch into his touch, getting lost in the way his fingers dance, knead, and pressure your bosom. The soft, breathy moan you let escape from those soft lips is everything he needs to hear.

You feel his other hand slide underneath your shirt. Slowly, he moves his hand up, the cool touch of his fingers sending a tingling shockwave throughout your hot body. He brings your shirt along until your bra is fully exposed in front of him. Your face grows warm, but the dark look in his eyes doesn’t change.

Instead, he leans over and asks, "May I, my dear?" As soon as you nod, he unclasps your bra from the front and puts it aside. Then, in a low voice, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Your blush worsens when he cups your breasts in his hands and slowly moves his thumbs in opposite directions… until one of his hands gently squeezes a nipple while the other continues its gentle caress.

“Ah…” you sigh.

As he uses the pad of his thumb to circle a hardened nipple, he leans forward.

“How do you usually like it, my dear?” he asks lowly. “Soft? Or…” One hand suddenly gets needy… rough… as he squeezes…

“O-oh!”

…and fondles…

“Nngh…A-ah…!”

…like no one has before.

You feel something wet and see his tongue has replaced one of his hands. He looks up at you, his gaze almost daring you to tell him to stop. But that lustful look in your eyes is everything he needs to know. Your body arches as his tongue work wonders on your bosom.

Then, your eyes widen when you feel his hand massaging your inner thigh. A squeeze... and another... until he uses the heel of his hand to gently apply light, smooth strokes toward your pelvis. He stands upright and smiles at you as if admiring your flushed face.

As soon as you feel the pad of his thumb encircling your clothed sex, you gasp. He leans closer and closer until his face is inches from yours.

“I want you to do me a favour, my dear,” he says quietly. You allow him to take one of your hands and put it over a breast. “Touch yourself as I kiss you.”

It's then your lips are no longer yours. One kiss after another leaves you craving more… and more. You're glad you're lying down as you're sure your knees would give from the greedy, hungry kisses that show you're a woman to be desired, something your ex-boyfriend has never shown you before. As you fondle yourself while feeling the warm caress of his tongue, your other hand weaves its way into his hair, holding him in place. He gradually applies pressure on your sex, and you instinctively roll your hips into his touch.

More. You need more.

He stops kissing you as if reading your mind, and his lips curve into a slight smirk. You watch him move to stand in front of your open legs. He pulls off your bottoms, including your underwear. You hold your breath as he slowly massages your stomach and moves down until he's about to reach your sex.

You watch him oil his hands. Then, he starts with the outer lips, squeezing them gently with his thumb and index finger. You sigh in satisfaction when he moves to the inner lips and rubs them with his fingers.

As soon as he looks at you, you know he's taking it a step further.

“How do you want to be touched, my dear?” he asks. “Directly…?”

"Mmpth…" you sigh as he gently holds your clit. Then, he gives it a gentle tug, and you gasp.

“Or… indirectly?”

When you feel the tip of his finger circling your clit, your breathing turns heavy.

Clockwise.

“Ah…”

Counterclockwise.

You exhale deeply.

He goes harder.

“O-oh… yes…”

Slower.

“M-more,” you whimper.

He chuckles. “My… my dear. You’re so wet.” His dark gaze flashes toward you. “That’s a good sign.”

Slowly, he slides his middle finger inside and lightly pressures your walls at different points. As it gradually increases, you bite your bottom lip.

He smiles. “You’re too quiet. Should we fix that?”

He gently slides in his index finger and moves them in a come-hither motion at the top of your walls. Then, he applies more and more pressure until he moves his hand and arm up and down.

You've never been stimulated like this before. This feeling is as if your entire body is on fire. Then, feeling his lips on your inner thigh, you gasp and arch your body off the bed once more.

"Relax," he says softly, using his other hand to guide your body back down. "Just listen to my voice…." He flashes you a heated look as he continues working his fingers on your G-spot. "Do you know how hot you look right now, my dear? Face red… mouth open… eyes in a trance…" He slowly kisses further up your thigh. "It makes me want you… so. Fucking. Bad."

He suddenly applies so much pressure that you come on the spot. A long, loud moan leaves your lips as your sex releases the pent-up pleasure that almost feels foreign. Your body is still coming down from the high when he leans over and puts his hand over your heart.

“How do you feel now, my dear?”

You can’t find the words. You can only look at him as realization dawns upon you what had just happened. “I…”

He puts his finger on your lips. "Would you like me to show you how you made me feel?"

You allow his mouth to take you. Slow. Sensual. All those emotions you felt a moment ago come flooding back from this one kiss that feels so right that it proves every other kiss you had is wrong.

Then, he breaks away too fast, too soon. His gentle smile returns. “I hope you sleep better now, love.”

As he fully leans upright, you’re still lost in your emotions on how one visit to the doctor’s office has made you feel so wrong, so right all at once.

Tag list: @lxry-chxn @lordbugs @suoshiii @seirenspinel

[nexility-sims]

Hi, there! Love your story!! Any advice for a first-time simmer looking to do this sort of thing?

i'm gonna say from the outset that you surely did not request an automobile manual's worth of expounding on such a simple question, but ... that's what i've given you :^) partly, i wanted to cover all the of the bases of what you may have meant, so there are three parts: "general advice for thriving," "specific advice for knowing when you're ready," and "specific advice for doing what i do." hopefully these are useful and not completely derivative of what other people have said recently. beyond that, i'll just say i am always, always happy to talk about storytelling, to answer questions, and to give feedback on anything and everything. thanks for the question—and the kind words, too !

ONE - general advice for thriving

JUST START TELLING YOUR STORY ALREADY. maybe it’s obvious, but the best advice is to dive in. it’s like going for the first swim of the season and knowing you’ve got to take the plunge but dreading the cold of it. once you finally submerge yourself, you’re having fun. it’s easy to get caught up in endless preparation. planning is important, whatever that looks like for you, but you’ve got to know when it becomes procrastinating. being ready to start is not the same thing as being 100% confident and 100% polished. i’m willing to bet none of your favorite storytellers, people whose stories have been ongoing for years with dedicated readers, started off confident and polished. it may not be universal, but i think there’s a common reaction when a new reader likes your very first story post: cringing because it’s your worst work but knowing it only gets better from there. storytelling is something you have to practice, and the basics of it become more intuitive and effortless as you go.

continued and continued and continued below ...

BE INTENTIONAL ABOUT WHAT BRINGS YOU JOY. to feel satisfied and stay motivated, prioritize your passions. you want to tell this specific story for a reason; you want to do simblr storytelling, specifically, for a reason. the former is likely because you’re inspired by your plot/characters. the latter could be because you enjoy taking screenshots, you enjoy writing dialogue, you love reading simblr stories, or any number of technical reasons why the medium speaks to you. there are probably things you don’t love as much—posing sims, filling plot holes, realizing your skills don’t fully line up with your ambitions. in my experience, being able to name why you’re doing this translates into being able to crafting a story around those priorities. that, in turn, means having the motivation to power through the parts you like less. 

i hate making poses, so i approach my work from the perspective of, “i’m not going to get hung up on having the exact right poses, and i don’t want to slow my story down by wasting time in blender.” other people love making poses or decide having the right one is what’s important to them. being purposeful saves you the trouble of agonizing over things that aren’t actually necessary or, worse, that eventually lead you to burn out and abandon the work altogether. we have to make compromises to tell good stories—maybe you hate writing outlines but know doing it will make things easier later—and it’s invaluable, imo, to know why you’re making those choices. there are jacks-of-all-trades with infinite free time and buckets of inspiration among us, but you’re likely not one of them. don’t worry, though, because neither am i. 

FALL IN LOVE WITH OTHER PEOPLE'S STORIES. this one is huge, albeit ostensibly a step removed from the immediate task of storytelling. something i’ve noticed is that people who genuinely engage with other people’s work get more love for their own. it makes sense when you think about it. ideally, if someone is taking the time to catch up on my story, to ask me questions about my characters, to demonstrate that they see what i’m doing, then i want to reciprocate that. to me, it’s actually off-putting when someone only ever publicizes or discusses their own story. that being said, it’s easy to get caught up in our work—using our finite free time to make sure our project gets done—and not allocate time for getting to know other people’s. it’s no crime or even a bad thing. yet, to me, that defeats the purpose of joining a community like this one. it also makes our stories weaker, to reference the wisdom that writers must also be readers. talking to someone about their characters, their writing process, how they stage a scene in the game (or observing those elements while reading their posts) makes me reflect on what i’m doing. paying true attention to other storytellers is a practice of reciprocity that builds community, and it gives you solid examples to learn from as you go. 

FOCUS ON GROWTH, NOT WEAKNESS. relatedly, the learning element is so important! a common pitfall, especially for someone just starting out, is getting hung up on what you think you’re doing wrong and comparing yourself to others. maybe their stories are more visually pleasing. maybe their plots have better pacing and impact. maybe their characters get more engagement from readers. step one is to not compare, but i suspect most of us will cop to failing that step. step two, then, could be turning those negative feelings into motivation. if your options are getting down on yourself and abandoning your story versus pushing through and improving ... well, it’s clear to me which is the better option. step three is figuring out how to push through and improve. my advice is the above tip: make some friends whose stories you admire and who are willing to give you encouragement and feedback. most simblr folks, i find, are generous like that.

IT'S A HOBBY AND A CRAFT AND A COMMUNITY. that leads me to my final point, which is basically a bundle of generative contradictions. simblr is a hobby, which means you can’t take it too seriously. storytelling is a craft, which means you have to take it seriously to get better. story simblr is a community, which means the best way to have fun and get better is by doing it with other people. if your goal is to have a hugely popular story that hundreds of nameless followers adoringly read, then, statistically, you’re going to fail. a more reasonable goal is becoming part of a collective who are working on stories they mutually enjoy. maybe you’re in a writing group or have a beta reader. maybe you’re collaborating with another simblr. maybe you have a handful of mutuals with whom you interact exclusively through likes, reblogs, and replies. having done all of the above, my experience is that i’m most excited about my story, most motivated to work on it, most likely to get the positive engagement i want when i’m actively trying to have fun, get better, and be part of the community. from someone who is not infrequently stymied by social anxiety and perfectionism: you can’t reap benefits you don’t sow. 

TWO - advice for knowing when you’re ready:

TURN YOUR IDEA INTO A CAST AND A NARRATIVE. i say narrative instead of “outline” for a few reasons: 1) not every story is event-driven, 2) the traditionally imagined outline structure doesn’t work for everyone, and 3) pre-defining everything doesn’t work for everyone either, plus 3a) frontloading too much detail is a lot of work and 3b) can dampen creativity. maybe you have a bulleted list, an illustrated storyboard, a well-organized playlist … regardless of what it is, you should know roughly what the sequence of major experiences or events is, how they’re connected, and what you want them to convey to the reader. i did a ton of winging it when i started my main story in 2021, and i did a lot more planning with this current project; as you go, you’ll figure out what kind of preparation makes the most sense for you, and that may change, too.

MAKE DECISIONS ABOUT THE LOGISTICS. it’s important to emphasize that you can and perhaps should change your mind / experiment later, but some things are nice to have settled before you start posting. among them, i would recommend several. one is figuring out if you do scripts or screenshots first. another is knowing if your story is more gameplay-based or will rely on poses. you should also have a sense of the locations you’ll need and whether those will be existing in-game lots, builds you download from others, or ones you build yourself. are you editing your screenshots visually, in canva, photoshop, gimp, photopea, etc? are you using reshade / gshade in game? are you writing dialogue, prose, or both—and are you then putting it on the screenshots or as text below them? what’s your posting schedule going to be, if you choose to have one instead of posting as you go? these are just some considerations, but i would say they’re significant. for every combination of ways to tell a story, there’s almost certainly a simblr doing it. there’s no right or wrong, only what’s right for you.

RUN YOUR PLANS BY SOMEONE ELSE. it’s not essential or always feasible, but feedback can make you feel better about the whole thing. having someone give you constructive criticism, whether on your outline or your planned posting schedule, is helpful. even more helpful is knowing someone is already familiar and enthusiastically waiting to see more of your project. an added benefit is that, if you’re nervous about how your story will be received, this can be a practice run at sharing it! 

THREE - advice for doing what i do:

i describe my story as historical drama, as an anti / decolonial worldbulding experiment, as being about intergenerational family and the exercise of power. so, if you’d like to enter the royal simblr genre (or thereabouts) and do something that is—i think i can say—unique, then here’s my anecdotal advice.

HAVE A STRONG INSPIRATION BASE. if you’re not faithfully basing your country on a real world location, then you should at least have a solid idea of where your inspiration is coming from. i consider my story an indigenous story, and my inspiration is mainly histories and cultures in the western hemisphere—primarily but not exclusively in what’s currently mexico and central america, plus from what’s currently the united states and also some histories of the iberian peninsula. i’m not trying to recreate any particular nation or culture, but knowing the origins of influence both helps my creations feel more cohesive and gives me a reliable source when i need inspiration.

DO YOUR RESEARCH WHEN IT MATTERS. relatedly, you can’t be inspired by the real world—by real everyday people’s real cultures—without using them respectfully. more often than not, that means doing research. i suppose i think of it as, “if someone sees themself in my story, how is that going to make them feel?” i don’t let that thought discourage me or make me fearful; i use it as motivation to ensure i’m producing good representation. i know where my expertise and personal experience end, and i’m willing to put in the work to make sure i’m not being careless. that being said, research isn’t just about cultural sensitivity! doing your research—especially for historical settings or with institutions / processes you haven’t personally dealt with, like royalty or executive governance—makes the story stronger. you don’t have to bore your readers with reams of findings or shoehorning details into places they don’t belong. understanding the context in which your story takes place will help you intuitively and subtly render the world more realistic and immersive, write characters who are more believable and engaging, and craft plots that make more logical, interesting use of the setting in which they’re unfolding.

FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR PROTAGONIST. this is obvious, but it’s especially true when you’re writing a story the way i do. my storytelling is character-driven in the sense that, more than the events of the plot, i like to focus on moments that develop the characters and their relationships. it’s also character-driven in the sense that i choose a character or two and let them drive the narrative. i just don’t have the adeptness for ensemble casts; i can’t handle the moving parts, and i naturally close in on a particular character’s emotional world rather than zooming out. to make these inclinations work, it’s key to really know your lead characters(s) and feel comfortable working inside their mind / heart. i’ve harped on this before, but motivation is the single most important thing you can know about a character. it puts you on the path to answering so many other key questions, from what their desires are to how their backstory shaped them to how they struggle in the present to what their next move is. if you love your protagonist, then thinking about these questions is more fun than burdensome. 

EMBRACE THE MESS. there is a tendency to avoid messiness, one that is well-meaning but can undermine the story. if you aren’t comfortable with thematic gray areas, with unresolved loose ends, with lingering emotions, with conclusions that aren’t definitively happy, then i think you miss opportunities. these are all issues that have two sides: one is the dreaded plot hole or some equivalent writer’s mistake that leaves readers disgruntled; the other is challenging your readers and giving them intrigue to chew on, to dissect and debate, to feel as they read. my advice is that you can have contradictions and complexity and even ugliness in your story, but you have to purposefully put it there—or take control of it, if it arises on its own.

DO IT FOR YOURSELF, NOT FOR OTHER PEOPLE. at the end of the day, the story that you pour your heart into just won’t connect with or excite everyone. the characters, the plots, the world, the genres, the way you post, how you talk about the story ... it won’t always resonate the way you hope. being okay with that is what makes storytelling sustainable. sometimes i wonder why i put so much effort and thought into what i’m doing, especially when it seems like no one seems to notice. what i have to remind myself is that some people do appreciate it and, more importantly, the process brings me joy. to reference earlier advice, i’m putting effort into the parts that are my priorities, and i’ve made connections with a handful of people who give me the enthusiasm i need on days when simple enjoyment isn’t enough. “being okay with that” isn’t a permanent feeling; it’s a decision you, as a hobbyist storyteller in a casual community, have to make and remake.

it’s okay to do it for other people sometimes. i’m including this caveat because my current project is a collaboration that i started for an audience of one, and i do make a habit of trying to put a ton of effort into all of my few collaborative enterprises. one of the reasons i gravitated toward royal simblr is that it’s a very collaborative space, but i think the best ones really do build reciprocal love for someone else’s story. if you’re going to care what other people think of your work or make choices with their opinions in mind, then i suggest doing it for people who are involved—who know what your priorities are, who love your characters, and who understand what you’re trying to do well enough that their opinions actually do make the story better. like i said, we're here to have fun, to get better, to be part of something.

okay, that's it, whoever read this far down is an angel possibly with too much time on their hands. as i said at the top, happy to be a resource or a supportive voice in whatever ways are helpful ! ♥️

[valkyriepegusus]

I woke up this morning and had the unfortunate experience of seeing one of those “acotar hot takes” on my fyp (which is 98% of the time just Bat Boy propaganda, but I digress), anyways one of the slides said something like “Elain shouldn’t not choose Azriel just so she doesn’t hurt “sweet baby boy Lucien”” and I just want to talk about that for a sec…

1. Elain already didn’t choose Azriel. She returned his gift. That was SJM using literary devices to tell the readers, “she rejected his gift, she rejected him, the door is closed” if you don’t like or “agree” with that, well that’s not really anyone’s problem but your own.

2. The absolute disrespect towards Lucien to talk about him as if he’s some fragile, docile little child who couldn’t handle Elain rejecting him is beyond me. It’s actually funny because the only one who has treated anyone like a fragile docile child is AZRIEL TO ELAIN!!! I like Azriel don’t get me wrong, but the bonus chapter really just showed everyone that HE is the one not in control of his emotions (which is great setup for his soon to come book 🤭😉). Lucien has been nothing but patient, caring, understanding, and kind towards Elain and her feelings, whereas Azriel pouted and got pissed when Rhys told him he needs to stay away from another man’s mate, which is a totally reasonable thing to say on Rhys’ part and it’s actually crazy that people think Rhys was in the wrong. Again if you disagree, I literally do not care.

3. Which leads me to my third point, let’s say for one second, the door to E/riel wasn’t slammed shut, let’s say she kept the necklace or whatever else E/riels like to pretend happened. Elain should still reject Azriel and, believe it or not, it has nothing to do with Lucien!!! Azriel has explicitly stated (through his internal monologue, so we as the readers know this as fact) that he has literally not thought about anything more than “the fantasies he pleasured himself to” about Elain. In case any wandering e/riels stumble upon this post, this means that he has only thought about Elain in a sexual context and nothing else (NOT in a romantic OR loving way 😨😨😨). Azriel continuously undermines Elain (“there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that Elain should not be exposed to”), Azriel is still not over Mor (again we know this), Azriel told her to her face, that kissing her would be a mistake, Azriel does not credit her for killing Hybern, Azriel doesn’t understand her!!! And these are all just the things he’s said, either to Elain or other people, there are so many more reasons we could draw just from his thoughts and behaviors towards Elain.

I want to make it very clear that I very much like Elain, Azriel, Lucien, and Gwyn as characters. I genuinely enjoy reading about them and I’m very excited for all of their books, anything I post is not me shitting on ANY of them at all. But I won’t pretend these characters don’t have flaws. Azriel is a deeply flawed character which will undoubtedly be explored in his book. Elain has many issues that she needs to work out, which will be explored in her book. There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that these characters are not perfect and I in no way mean to make it seem like I dislike ANY of them, because I don’t.

[v3x-y0urs3lf]

Blooming Panic if MC was the author.

Unfortunately I haven’t written fanfic in over 2 or 3 years so you’re all getting headcanons.. even then I’m high as shit and barely know what I’m talking about. Expect this to be halfassed.

Okay, this mainly follows Toaster’s storyline just.. without romance to be more accepting to everyone’s tastes.

I know canonically the servers been around for like 2/3 years and MC (who I’m just going to continue to call MC for the hell of it.) only has just joined.. but what if they were also BloomBot?

Like, assuming MC doesn’t ACTUALLY work in finance and assuming that they’re actually good enough at coding to make the server possible.. it’s not too bad of an idea.

Hear me out. BloomBot secretly being a person this entire time, watching their chat history, listening in on calls but being unable to actually say anything? Probably gets lonely.

.. So MC makes their own account and joins in, pretending to have no idea who any of them are.

Or another idea - BloomBot just belongs to them and is just your average bot, Mc joins because they themselves have lost all motivation for the series and doesn’t know what to do with it.

I also really like that idea.

Imagine just MC writing and rewriting the final chapter over and over again, or better yet, imagine MC NOT writing the final chapter. Just staring at a blank document with 0 ideas. Likely in tons of stress and no motivation to continue writing but knowing they have thousands of fans waiting for the next chapter.

MC joins a ton of fan servers to try and get some inspiration from ideas but only one really clicks with them - the super secret discord server that we all know of.

There’s moments of guilt within them when Jules or Nightowl are worried or upset with no sign of the final chapter but the chapter continues to be prolonged.

I promised there’d be no particular romance forced into this despite it being Toast’s route but here’s a slight snippet of what I think would happen depending on characters.

Toast.. isn’t much to say really. It’s similar to his natural route where he tries to find who’s behind this, maybe some deep coding down and he might get an email from BloomBots code (Can you tell I know nothing about coding? lol.) I’m not saying he’d know that MC is the author, I just wouldn’t be surprised if he started offhandedly mentioning that sometimes a long break from work is needed and VERY MUCH okay to do so when MC is in call with him.

Nightowl is stressed with both his own school problems and NOW he doesn’t have a way to escape the dread of exams and finals. In a way.. He can relate to that reason the anonymous update was explained with. It might just be me but the way the update described it, it’s pretty obvious the ‘author’ was under stress. He can relate to that stress and probably rants to the MC about it in a late night call.. Knowing someone can relate with you and that you aren’t alone does wonders to someone’s mental health, especially since Nightowl is still pushing through his stress and still moving forward.

Quest.. I completely forgot his character but I think he’s a bit too busy to think about the problem deeply. Sure, The last chapter probably won’t be uploaded but.. it’s not the end of the world? He has work and being the server mod.. the biggest problem he has is making sure everyone else is calm and okay. If MC ends up confessing that they themselves are pretty stressed for whatever reason then he totally gives some great advice, tells MC to take life slow and to take breaks if they need to.. which actually kind of helps knowing you can take your time and go at your own pace.

Xyx is actually bummed out about the whole thing. If blooming panic ends then.. does that mean the community ends? People like having a community to go to and ESPECIALLY when someone is so adrenaline hungry like Xyx then things can be.. hard during times like this when it’s suddenly ending. Xyx isn’t one to vent about it but if he sees MC down about it then he’ll definitely find a way to make them spill (as in vent.) One way or another he’ll convince MC to take a break and he tries to cheer them up.

I understand a lot of this was probably mischaracterised and I apologise for that. I do really want to hit it off as a writer but I’m honestly not really good? Lol. I really am trying, I promise. Thank you for your patience.