#she isn't the god everyone thinks and reference to be

[dualisume]

|| I'm not certain if i should consider this a headcanon but it's more of a study to furina & focalors biblical references but that i want to establish in my way of writing them but here we go !

The thing is everyone claims that furina is a representation of Jesus, the perfect human, but i think that mihoyo had made Furina be referenced to many more biblical figures. First, is furina being referenced to Mary && focalors being Angel Gabriel. Focalors && furina's first meeting is the enactment of the beginning of new testament , basically the creation of jesus. When focalors, showed up into the mirror, saying the same thing as what Angel Gabriel stated to Mary when he announces the great news, although for furina, the great news isn't as great since she is the same person who have to carry all the sins after all she was a perfect human but No. She isn't , which contradicts to what focalors claim because Furina, is also a reference to people's sin, worshipping Fake Idols, instead of the real God in the bible.

Furina in her 500 years of acting as the Hydro Archon , had earned her a lot of fanatics, not for her being the ' archon' but being the ' idol ' of Opera Epiclese , the diety of being able to show twist and giving a good spectacle && good time . You can see in the bible, that people have sinned multiple times, again && again with them praising a Fake Idol , one popular story is the book of Exodus, where Moses broke the 10 commandments due to his people praising the wrong idol. This is the same with the people of fontaine, they do not praise the hydro archon as the archon that protects them but instead she is being praised as someone who can give temporary amusement && enjoyment. It's so easy how people of fontaine turned their backs to Furina, whenever there's no good trial being offered, cause just like in the bible the fake idols are only there for worshipping && praising when there's happiness && no problems, but when there are problems they immediately blame and toss them away.

another popular depiction of furina is the story of whore of Babylon but everyone knows about it already being the reference to the ruler who believed that she would reign over the earth forever. She said in her heart: “I am, and there is no one besides me; I shall not sit as a widow or know the loss of children" , so I'll not dwell much to that for now

and lastly the whole act 5 finale, in which furina && the cast i being referenced to as the last supper , although furina is said to be jesus here but that isn't quite true, i see that furina is just the reference to enactment of the crucifiction process in the bible.

The whole trial is a reference to the part of the bible where the Romans are asking for jesus to be crucified , the shit show of where everyone is turning their back and screaming at her was a reference to jesus parading himself carrying the cross , where people would insult jesus , spit & call him fake && the other cast , most especially Traveler, is a reference to Judas, turning his back and betraying furina, with their whole plot to make her stand in trial && admit her sins, ( i see Neuvilette here as more of pontius pilate, cause i do believe that he thinks furina is innocent but due to everyone's desire to know that truth, he was forced to do it.) but after the death sentence is being in the process, furina for me doesn't reference jesus here but more of like the sins of the people on the process of forginess, && neuvilette is the one who reference him , since it was his rebirth after the death of Focalors, gaining all his powers and very whole divinity, like how jesus was resurrected, after 3 days, with him being powerful and divine enough to escape the death.

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

[catssluvr]

it would be sososo wonderful if you wrote a cute little blurb abt Spencer and fem!BAU!reader both coming into work with little doodles all over their arms and the team notices or something <3 (yes this is the same anon that sent the headcanon lol)

hii! i loved your headcanon and am so glad you requested this 💌

𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔, spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

you relationship with spencer is revealed when you both show up to work with doodles on your arms <3

warnings: none <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Spencer reaches for the mug full of hot coffee, taking a generous sip. His button up feels almost immediately too hot, body warming up due to the hot beverage. He rolls up his sleeves without a second thought, arms covered in little doodles on full display to anyone in the bullpen who decides to look at them.

"Hey, pretty boy. Did you see- are those hearts?" Derek approaches his desk with a teasing smile already making it's way to his lips. Spencer scrambles to cover his arms up, clumsy pulling his sleeves down.

"Did i see what?" He feigns innocence, crossing his arms over his chest as he's way too nervous to actually button up the sleeves. There's no way he's going to out the relationship he's been hiding for a good few months because of some doodles.

"Oh no, you're not running away from this. Why have you got cute drawings all over your arms, uh?" He teases even further, trying to take a peek at the skin under Spencer's button up.

Your gaze immediately shoots up to them once you realize what Derek is referring to, quickly faking a normal expression once you realize your eyes have widened. You pretend to be looking at the files in your table, waiting for the answer. Your table is not far from his so you really have to keep it cool.

"I uh- i was bored and drew them." Spencer says the first excuse that comes to mind and realizes rather quickly how bad it sounds. His neck turns red and it soon spreads to his cheeks and ears too.

"You want me to believe you were bored and decided to draw hearts and butterflies on your arms? Sure, Reid." He chuckles, making sure to give him a hard time.

"Aw, does my sweet boy genius have a girlfriend?" Penelope snoops in, a less teasing and more bright smile on her lips.

"It sounds like he does. Unless he's suddenly ambidextrous and is able to draw perfect hearts on both of his arms." Emily comments, just as interested to make Spencer flustered as Derek.

"I- What if i am?!" Spencer's voice comes out a tad bit squeakier than intended, facade crumbling very easily. He looks at you almost desperately, trying to find a way out of this interrogation without having to reveal your relationship.

"Come on guys, leave the poor boy alone." Rossi saves him before you can, but he seems just as curious as the rest of them. Raised eyebrows and looking directly at him.

"Do you know anything about this, gorgeous?" Derek turns his gaze to you. Spencer gulps nervously, trying to act as normal as possible now that you're also about to be involved.

"Me? Why would i know?" You question a bit too defensively. Lying isn't exactly your forte and now that everyone is looking at you, it feels even harder.

"Wait- do i sense jealously?" It now feels like you're the next chosen victim to their interrogation. You might have aimed for careless but it definitely came off as defensive and bothered.

"You really don't." You roll your eyes as you answer, noticing the way Spencer gives you an apologetical look. You smile for long enough so that he notices but quick enough so no on else sees it.

"I think we do." Rossi agrees with Derek.

You sigh exasperatedly, hand coming to rub your forehead. What you don't notice is the way your shirt rids down, exposing your also covered arm.

"Oh my god- she has them too!" Penelope gasps, not holding back the surprise.

You wonder how they hadn't figured out you and Spencer are dating before. You both aren't exactly great liars and it was just a matter of time until someone caught one of your stollen kisses on the workplace.

"Oops?" You mutter out, cheeks painfully hot as you give up on trying to hide it. There's no way they would believe any kind of excuse now.

"Can't say i'm surprised." Emily is the first to say anything, leaving to go back to her desk as if nothing had happened.

"I'm so happy for you guys." Penelope ruffles Spencer's hair with a smile that's definitely making her cheeks hurt, while Derek resumes to shaking his head with a chuckle.

Spencer gives you a lopsided smile and you quickly realize he's trying to know if you're okay with all of it. You nod with a smile of your own, fingers tracing the doodles on your arm.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[mickyschumacher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄  .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+

𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.

In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.

Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.

A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.

To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.

But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.

You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.

You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.

The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.

You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.

And that was that.

By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.

And you did.

It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.

"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.

Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.

You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.

Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.

You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.

"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.

You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."

You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.

That was kind of the point.

You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.

"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.

You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.

"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.

"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.

"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.

Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."

You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.

You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.

You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.

How did you even get here?

Right. The grocery store.

You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.

The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.

Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.

Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.

"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.

You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?

You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.

"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.

You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.

You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.

You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.

It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.

You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.

Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.

“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.

You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.

"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.

Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.

"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.

You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"

Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.

You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.

Okay... you got this.

"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."

The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."

You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."

Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."

"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.

Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."

"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.

Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."

You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"

"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."

The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."

Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.

You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.

The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."

She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.

You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.

Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"

Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.

Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.

You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.

Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.

You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.

Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?

The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."

Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.

You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.

"Carlos–"

"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.

The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.

Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.

"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.

"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.

"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"

"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."

You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.

Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?

Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.

Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.

With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

"Carlos..." You called once again.

Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"

"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."

Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."

In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.

The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."

You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."

Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.

The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.

But you gladly would for him.

"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."

Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."

You raised a brow. "Am I?"

He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."

Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.

Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"

"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.

But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."

Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.

Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.

You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.

Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."

Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.

You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.

You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.

He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.

Christ.

You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.

"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.

Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.

You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.

Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"

You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."

Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.

You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.

You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.

Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?

Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.

He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.

You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.

Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.

A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.

"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.

Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"

Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.

"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.

"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."

Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.

Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.

Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.

You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.

"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.

You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."

Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.

With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.

Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.

"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.

Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.

You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.

Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."

Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."

Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."

You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.

The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."

Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.

Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.

A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.

Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.

With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.

Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.

"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.

"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.

You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.

Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.

"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.

The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.

You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.

Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.

"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."

"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.

Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.

You were going to be the death of him.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[artaxlivs]

Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.

"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.

"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?

Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.

"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.

He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.

Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"

The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.

"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.

"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"

"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.

Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.

Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."

"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.

Gross. So gross.

"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."

Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"

Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'

Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."

"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."

Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.

Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.

Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"

What?

"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.

He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.

Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.

"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"

"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.

Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"

Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.

What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.

Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"

"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.

Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.

The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.

Holy shit.

And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.

Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.

[nyx-is-missing]

Hi! Can I request a Clarissa × Fem!reader, where reader is spending a lot of time talking to someone from Athena's cabin and she gets jealous. you can decide what cabin reader is in :)

Jealous jealous girl

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (apollo's kid)

Summary: when the girl she likes is being friendly to someone, Clarisse might see red.

Warnings: no major fights actually, fluff (a bit) kissing (yes today no clickbait) medíocre writting and im sorry.

(I didn't review it, don't sue me, English isn't my native language, that's probably why it's mediocre, love ya

"Have you actually read that book? Oh my gods really? I felt like i was the only one who knew it"

Clarisse watched with red eyes as (Y/n) got excited and laughed togheter with some kid from Athena's cabin.

They werent exactly...togheter yet, but they WERE something, everyone was sure of that.

Clarisse mind couldnt comprehend then, how even though EVERYONE knew they had something, that particular girl would not back off of her.

(Y/n) laughed togheter with the girl at some book reference she had made, and the final straw for Clarisse was when the girl had the courage to touch her girl's knee.

Her sunshine?

The disrespect, was she not seeing Clarrise looking at them? Like 10 steps behind?

The.disrespect.

Oh that will end right now.

Walking over to the girls with a fake smile who people would perceive of normal happiness, however, if you did knew her, her eyes had a hint of red rage in them.

"Love? Would you come with me for a second yes?"

She took (Y/n) by the hands but before she could even get up the Athena kid made herself seen.

"Excuse me? Cant you see we're talking? So rude."

"Oh yes, excuse you really, i dont think a need a cue to talk to my girlfriend, now shut up before I make you eat that book for dinner."

Not waiting for any more words Clarisse took reader by the hand again.

"Clarisse that was not nice, she was my friend- dont even start to speak right now, we'll talk in my cabin, it must be empity right now, we dont need the camp seeing something they dont need"

Letting (Y/n) guide her, still holding her hand, Clarisse had a confused look on her face.

"But we are not going to fight, not today"

"Says who?"

They got inside the cabin and bingo, empity empity, all the Apollo kids must be doing its activities, or getting ready for dinner, as always.

"Me, Love. We wont fight, we'll talk."

Clarisse sat down at the bed she knew it was (y/n)'s waiting for her to do the same.

Choosing to stand, she had a blank look on her face.

"You said we would talk, talk to me, why be mean to my friend clari?"

"Because im jealous. Im not made of steel, love, i cant see a girl from a rival cabin flirting with my sunshine and go around skipping like a kid, you know me"

"We were not flirting clari, she is my friend!"

"YOU were not flirting, she wants to be more than that"

Clarisse corrected

"And you have a right to do something about it since when? Everytime you talk about me to your friends im a friend too, but suddently when its convenient i turn into your girlfriend? Oh please"

Clarisse looked at her, and extended her hands to grab (y/n) hands, when they finally touched Clarisse got (y/n) to get closer and closer to her, now she was standing in between Clarisse's legs and had to look down to see her.

"I never said i was right love, im sorry for hurting you, i swear.....i was insecure about that, im so sorry really..."

"Clari you dont needed to-"

"Date me"

Clarisse interrupted her mid speech.

"What?"

"Date me, let me introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend, i wont make you hurt anymore, date me....-"

Please

That was the word missing, would it make clarisse apear as desperate if she used it?

Fuck it, she was inside the Apollo cabin, that gave her enough poetic justice to be as luvestruck as she could

She found herself resting her hands on (y/n) hips, looking up to her with heart eyes.

"Please... date me"

.

.

.

"Say something, please"

Whoever first said that acts spoke words was very much right, because the kiss Clarisse received was nothing short of a love letter.

Clarisse felt hands on her cheek and neck, caressing her.

The kiss was slow and carefull at first, like the first time they kissed, so very sweet, until it wasn't.

When the kiss deepened, Clarisse's hands sunk more onto (y/n) hips, and then started to pull her down, to sit on her lap.

It was the very first time both felt like this, the absolute need to just become a fusion, hug so tightly a loved one that they would just morph into one.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you"

Clarisse said, breathing in her girlfriend's neck when they separated to breath.

When (y/n) was going to speak, she felt a small bite on her lower neck.

"Clarisse- ah"

"Sorry.."

Clarissed giggled before she went back kissing her mouth, when did she became one of the girls that giggled?

They heard the cabin door opening and then a

"Oh fuck sorry i just...ill come back later, and you (y/n) will tell me everything about later or ill change my name, bye lovebirds"

They looked at each other resisting the urge to laugh.

"Well i guess we wont need to introduce ourselfs to anybody, by tomorrow morning they'll know"

[venusdandy]

God's Rival

[Hazbin Hotel x GN!reader] [Platonic]

[Part One]

Story Summary: The Demiurge is what they decided to call you. You aren't human, angel, or demon. You're something else entirely—an enigma in each realm. The only being who had ever shown you kindness was the fallen angel Lucifer since he freed you from Heaven's prison by offering Eve the apple from your tree. You promised him a fruitful favor in exchange, but he has not asked anything from you. Until now, that is.

Chapter Summary: After the death of Adam, the residents of the Hazbin Hotel discuss ideas of how to protect Hell from Heaven's potential wrath. Reluctantly, Lucifer mentions he knows someone who owes him a favor and quite literally may be the only deity able to help them.

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns). No use of (y/n). The reader is genderless and AroAce—platonic relationships with the characters only.

The reader gets referred to as the "mother of chaos" once (in the same way one refers to mother nature). Nifty calls the reader a "bad boy" once (before meeting them). The reader is only referenced in this chapter without appearing yet.

Part 1 [Here] Part 2

The residents of the Hotel are gathered in their new lounge discussing the most recent extermination, or more specifically, Adam's death and the consequences. Heaven hasn't made any contact with Hell yet, but then again, it's only been a few days.

"I still think my idea is better," Angel smirks as he leans back on the couch comfortingly.

Vaggie growls with frustration, but Charlie quickly intervenes by gently touching her lover's shoulders. "Angel, we appreciate your help, but um," Charlie smiles tensely, "I don't think you seducing the angels in Heaven will help."

Angel shrugs. "Best idea anyone's had in the last hour."

Well, he isn't wrong. They've been severely lacking in the brainstorming department. After the conclusion that killing the first man has undoubtedly set off alarms in Heaven, for the past three and a half hours, they've all been discussing potential ideas to protect Hell from Heaven.

So far, Husk has thrown out that they should just set Nifty loose in Heaven (which Vaggie actually considered), Alastor has been making angelic puns (not at all helping), and Charlie has been pitching many civil plans to persuade Heaven (all her plans are in song form).

Lucifer has been very quiet throughout this. He's only been partially listening to everyone, as he is too focused on his worries. He's been mentally debating bringing up his idea; it's potentially the only way they'd stand a chance against all of Heaven's wrath.

But so much could go wrong. . .

Charlie must have noticed the faraway look in her father's eyes. She gently calls out to Lucifer, making him jolt out of his thoughts. He straightened up in the armchair and forced a smile. "Yes, Char-Char?"

Charlie holds one of her dad's hands with concern. "Are you okay? We can take a break if it's too much."

Lucifer sighs, letting his body sink into the chair, and his smile drops. "No, no, it's okay. I just. . .I have an idea."

Charlie perks up at this, a big smile shining on her face. "That's great!"

Lucifer opens his mouth but closes it again. He really doesn't want to mention you, but they've been shoved in a corner, and it's starting to look like only you can break down the walls.

With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer asks the others, "Have you heard of the Demiurge?"

Alastor hums with amusement as his grin stretches. "If you don't have ideas, there's no need to make up words. Just admit that little head of yours is empty!"

Lucifer, unknowingly falling for Alastor's rage bait, glares at him. "I'm not making up words, you oversized dried cherry! That's their title!". Lucifer then specifies your actual name.

Charlie clears her throat, awkwardly trying to distract the two demons. "Okay, let's calm down and hear what Dad's idea is."

Lucifer crosses his arms, still glaring at Alastor as he explains. "The Demiurge is responsible for a lot but mostly known for creating the mortal realm and overall shaping the material world. They're the maintainer of chaos."

Husk scoffs and mumbles under his breath, "Did a shit job maintaining the chaos in my life."

Charlie anxiously shifts her weight from leg to leg. 'Maintainer of chaos' doesn't sound very appealing. "Soooo, are they. . .nice?"

Lucifer finally looks away from Alastor; his smile is pissing him off more anyway, and he shifts his body to face his daughter. "Nice?" Lucifer repeats, "Maybe? From what I remember, they treated their creations with kindness."

"Creations?" Vaggie asks with a raised brow, "What does that mean? Like weapons or. . .?"

"Life.", Lucifer clarifies, "The Demiurge is capable of creating intelligent life forms."

This hooks everyone's attention. Even Nifty stops herself from stabbing a bug and looks up curiously. The little unfortunate bug quickly scurries across the floorboards, trying to escape, only for Nifty to leap at it again with her knife closing in on it.

"Like God? The fuck?" Angel asks with astonishment.

Lucifer nods. "They're powerful, so I thought about summoning them to help us since they owe me a favor anyway."

"Favor?", Charlie asks curiously and slightly worried.

Lucifer was about to explain further but decided to tell the Demiurge's origins so everyone could better understand who you are.

With a wave of his hand, a large and old book of the universe's secrets lands in Lucifer's lap. He opens it to the exact page of your tale and takes a deep breath before reading out loud.

.

"Before time, there was only the Celestial power in a realm called Heaven. But that power balance began to tip when an unknown angel mothered a deity with unbelievable divine powers that she abandoned their child in a clouded realm. The young deity lived for millennium alone, thinking they were the only being in existence. With no guidance from their mother, their power was disorganized, and they created galaxies, planets, and even complex life forms in their clouded realm.

After discovering the mysterious deity and their divine powers, Heaven deemed them a possible threat to the universe's balance. Questions rang in Heaven, wondering where this God-like creature came from. Only one angel knew who the deity was and where they came from, but she stayed quiet in fear she would be punished. It was her very own sinful thoughts and overwhelming emotions that had birthed her child.

The deity was elated to witness life forms they did not create, as they were not as alone as they formerly thought. At first, knowledge was transferred in civil conversations to understand each other's existence. The deity showed their realm, and in turn, the angels showed theirs. Heaven was more lenient towards them after witnessing their calm and happy nature. The deity behaved much like an angel, Heaven thought, so they let them remain in their realm of creation.

It was during that time the deity discovered they had a mother and how she abandoned them over her selfish desire to protect herself. The deity then lashed out with exasperated grief. The one who gave them life was ashamed of them. Their creations began behaving more aggressively and rigidly as the deity's emotions swam in negativity. Once again, Heaven became alarmed by the deity's power. They threatened the deity to stop, or Heaven would have no choice but to force them to stop by the power of the Heavenly Father. But the deity was too far lost in their rage of despair to listen. So, Heaven destroyed the deity's creations to almost extinction and trapped their soul within an apple tree. This massive tree became known as The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

After 65 million years, the Heavenly Father created the first humans within the Garden of Eden. As long as the humans didn't eat the forbidden apples of The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, they would live a pleasant life under God's guidance.

But, the life balance for humans forever shifted when Eve accepted the apple from the serpent and took a bite.

The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil vibrated until it burst into golden flames. The deity stood freely with their power surging through their veins once again. There was no longer only peace; now, there was chaos in the world.

That was the rebirth of The Demiurge."

.

After Lucifer finishes reading the timeless tale, he gently closes his book and teleports it to where it belongs with cloudy red magic. It's been a few millennia since he's sat down and read the origins of the Demiurge like this.

Nifty squeals from her spot on the floor laying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air. "A bad boy!" She giggles.

Lucifer quickly clutches his fists in his lap as he realizes he's shaking with anxiety. Honestly, Lucifer does NOT want to call upon you. So many things could go wrong, and the first thing that comes to mind is how awkward it'll be. He can't just be like, 'Oh hey, haven't seen you since Eden! Could you fight Heaven and protect Hell for us? Thanks!' ABSOLUTELY NOT!

The second reason is that Lucifer has only a vague idea of what you're capable of. He knows you're powerful; he was one of the angels investigating you and your realm of life.

You treat your creations with love and gentleness, as Lucifer's father does with his creations. But you're the Demiurge, maintainer of chaos. Your mere existence allowed chaos and evil to spread in human souls. What motivates you? What are your aspirations?

. . .And would you be a threat to Charlie?

Vaggie's eyes are narrowed, glaring at where the book just was. Having the radio demon managing the hotel is enough of a risk as is; she will not allow some powerful entity- the maintainer of chaos, that is, anywhere near Charlie.

Husk is the first to break the tense silence with a slight smirk on his lips. "That's some serious mommy issues."

Angel snorts. "Careful, whiskers, the Boogieman might just catch ya for saying shit like that."-he suddenly scoots closer to Husk on the couch, invading his personal space. "But don't ya worry, I'll hold ya real close for safety!"

Without even looking at Angel, Husk shoves him off the couch. "OOF!"

"Boogieman?" Alastor asks with some amusement.

Angel sits up on the floor and shrugs in response. "They sound creepy, like the Boogieman." Angel grins wide with a laugh, "Hey, maybe you and them will get along then, Smiles!"

Alastor only raises a brow at Angel's comment. If anything, the Demiurge will most likely piss him off like Lucifer does. But either way, he's deathly curious about you. What exactly can you do? Or rather, what can he exploit from you?

Lucifer groans and throws his head back against the armchair. "I don't know if we should ask the Demiurge for help. . ."

Charlie quickly shakes her head. "What, why? You said they can help, and they owe you a favor anyway! We have to ask, at least!"

Vaggie rests a hand on her lover's shoulder. "I'm not sure about this either, Charlie. This isn't your average favor exchange."

Charlie is about to argue more but closes her mouth. She bobs her side to side in acknowledgment. "Yeah. . .but Dad freed them from the tree, and helping us protect Hell from Heaven is sorta like freeing us, right?"

Now, Vaggie nods but sighs in exasperation. "Babe, we can't trust the maintainer of chaos who, might I remind you, brought evil into the world."

Lucifer, without a second thought, jumps to your defense, "Now, I wouldn't say they brought evil into the world. Evil already existed; human souls at the time couldn't comprehend evil. That's how they were originally designed. The Demiurge brought the ability for humans to understand evil, and I gave humans free will." He rubs his neck awkwardly and mumbles, "And I mean, it was their world before Heaven took control of it."

Husk scratches his chin in thought. "Sounds like they'd be eager to fight Heaven if that's the case."

Charlie claps her hands together in determination. "Exactly! I'm not for the idea of revenge, but they already aren't on good terms with Heaven. And it sounds like we- as, in Hell, are on neutral terms with them?"

Lucifer nods, but he's still not convinced he should summon you. . . Indeed, you've never shown malice towards Hell, but you've also never shown any signs of supporting Hell.

Well, you've shown respect for his family, which he is confident of. Lucifer can recall how each year, on his and Lilith's anniversary, they'd receive a generous gift from the Demiurge. They especially received a lot of gifts from you for the baby shower Lilith held for the nearing birth of Charlie.

Now that Lucifer is thinking about the Demiurge more, how'd you even know these dates? Neither he nor Lilith invited you to their wedding or baby shower, yet you still sent them gifts. Lucifer always assumed word had got around, and that's how you heard of it, but you were always so precise with the timing, too.

For instance, when their marriage started going South, instead of receiving one gift from the Demiurge on their anniversary for them to share, Lucifer and Lilith received their own uniquely catered gift. He was so emotionally distraught back then that he never realized how odd and borderline creepy that was. How could you have possibly known that Lilith and him weren't doing well? Not to mention how after they split apart, they received no gifts from you! How do you know all of this?! Are you hiding in his castle walls or something?!

Alastor knocks his cane against the wooden floorboards to gather everyone's attention. "I must agree with our dear Princess! We need extra assistance for what's to come, and it sounds like the Demiurge is the one for it."

Lucifer glares at Alastor. Well, now that he knows Alastor wants you to be summoned, Lucifer wants to summon you even less now!

"Plus!" Alastor continues with a stretching smile, "Our little King and the Demiurge are bound by a contract! They must fulfill their end of the bargain whether they want to or not."

"Preferably wanting to!" Charlie quickly adds, "Actually, only wanting to! We aren't forcing anyone to do anything they aren't comfortable doing!" Alastor subtly rolls his eyes.

Lucifer takes a breath in through his teeth at that realization. "Uhhhh, we didn't shake on it soooo. . ."

Vaggie immediately facepalms. "Are you serious right now?!"

Alastor's neck snaps at an angle toward Lucifer. "You didn't. . .Make an official deal? Then what makes you think this creature of chaos would willingly do you a favor?"

Lucifer stands from his chair with a glare and points an accusing finger at Alastor, "Excuse me for having more important things on my mind like, I don't know, getting out of Eden alive!"

Alastor's brows furrow together with irritation, and his smile sits tightly. Leaning onto his cane for stability, he bends forward to reach Lucifer's much shorter height. "You're excused."

Lucifer starts rolling up his sleeves. "Alright, you pompous prick-"

"Okay! That's enough!" Charlie quickly intervenes by leaping between the two demons with a nervous smile. "How about we finish this discussion tomorrow after thinking more about it? Sound fair?"

Reluctantly, Lucifer backs off, blowing air out his nostrils with pent-up anger. Alastor shows no further vexation as he straightens up, firmly placing his hands on his cane.

From the floor, Angel raised one of his hands. "So, question about the Demiurge."

Lucifer sighs with exhaustion but brings his full attention to Angel anyway. "Ask away; I'll answer the best I can."

Angel smirks as he asks, "What do they look like? Are they sexy?"

Husk and Vaggie groan at the question, not even surprised. At that, Husk stands from the couch and goes to the bar. He needs a drink—or maybe 12.

Lucifer, on the other hand, was genuinely pondering the question, the first half at least. "Uhh, from what I remember, the more humanoid form they take on have ears and a tail like a lion and golden scales on the edges of their face, around their eyes, and just scattered around their body, I think."

The term 'humanoid form' catches Alastor's attention. According to Lucifer, it sounds like the Demiurge is a creature that naturally doesn't look like a human and instead takes on that form, most likely for simplicity purposes. From the spiritual knowledge Alastor has gathered throughout his time in Hell, he's come to find that beings of higher ranks typically have a more abstract form. In that form, they are the most powerful, so to harness and control their magic, they take on a humanoid form.

"How interesting," Alastor hums, "A feline and a reptile."

Finally standing up, Angel whistles with a grin. "I've been with both, and I gotta tell ya, those scaley motherfu-"

Angel gets cut off by Vaggie punching him in the gut with the dull end of her spear. "Shut the fuck up, Angel!". Angel only laughs as he clutches his stomach.

Charlie winces and immediately but gently grabs her lover's elbows, making Vaggie lower her spear. "Okay, I think it's time to get ready for bed now."

The residents of the Hotel each do their nightly routine before ending the eventful day in their respective rooms. Though, with the most recent events taking place, they all find difficulty relaxing.

Can the Demiurge truly help them. . .?

They can only hope so.

[krirebr]

More Than This 5

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬

Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.

So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang. 

Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.

You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Honey! How are you?”

You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”

“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”

“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.” 

She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”

A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”

“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”

“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.

Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying. 

You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.

There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.

You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door. 

Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.

He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.

“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.

The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”

You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”

“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”

You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”

“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”

You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.” 

You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.

“What are you doing?”

“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”

“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.

“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.

“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge. 

You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”

You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”

He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”

Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs. 

When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.

It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.

Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.

For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten. 

The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.

Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.

Saturday came too soon.

Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again. 

Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.

You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”

“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room. 

“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him. 

The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.

You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.

The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!” 

Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”

Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.

Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan. 

Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.” 

“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”

“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”

You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”

Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!” 

Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible. 

Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all. 

“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”

“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”

“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?” 

The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture. 

“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.

Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.

You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.

You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”

Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?

“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?” 

They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them. 

Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.

Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.

It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.

“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”

Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”

“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?” 

That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?” 

“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.

From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat. 

“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”

“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did. 

Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”

“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.” 

You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.

From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”

“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”

You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”

“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”

From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.

“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.

“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”

You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time. 

The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.

You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”

Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.

And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there.  There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–

Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.

“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.

You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?

“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.

“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”

Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.

“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”

“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”

“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”  

Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”

“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.

“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.

“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”

“No! Does Ransom know?”

“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”

Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”

“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.

And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?

You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction. 

You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.

It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.

“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.

“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.

“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.

After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”

You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.

That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”

You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”

You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.

When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.

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[miniy00ng1]

Not Yours

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1845

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiii lovelies! i really enjoyed writing this, i will probably make a part two since the ending isn't really an ending, but i just wanted to get something posted! in this piece i refer to Viktor's character as Vanya since in the series at this time he did not come out yet! as always please ignore any grammar errors, give me feedback, and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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A bright blue flash appears in the foyer of The Umbrella Academy, from the flash comes the Hargreeves siblings, slowly coming to after being disoriented from time travel. The siblings surround the singular round table in the room, sitting atop the table was a newspaper.

Five Hargreeves, the youngest looking of the group, snatches the paper off the table frantically searching for a date. “Holy shit…I think we did it. It’s April 2nd, 2019, the day after the apocalypse.” Five lets out a dry chuckle, surprised he and his idiot siblings succeeded. 

Klaus lets out a cheer of excitement, he rests both arms over the shoulders of his two nearest siblings, pulling them close, “Go team! I mean look at us, we’re so amazing you guys. I think we should celebrate by breaking into Dad’s very special liquor cabinet.” The siblings laugh, all relieved they survived and saved the world, yet again. As the group begins to wander towards the sitting room, Five stops in his tracks–something, no, someone was missing.

Five looks at the bunch ahead of him, he counts their heads once—only five, and then recounts afraid that he’s made an error. He whips his head behind to check for the missing person–his missing person. Five releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding, panic beginning to set in, “You guys…where’s Y/N?” The siblings immediately become aware to the fact that you were missing.

“Maybe she ended up in another part of the house? We should split up and look for her.” Vanya suggested. The group murmurs in agreement, designating sections of the house for each sibling to search. Before the siblings can break off, something strange catches Diego’s eye, “Hey, why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?”

The siblings immediately gather around the mantel and stare in confusion at the painting of their dead brother, which was previously a painting of their missing brother. “Shit, that can’t be good…” Five hisses, trying to figure out what was going on. The siblings attention is pulled away from Ben’s painting as a figure abruptly stands up from a nearby chair. The fireplace sheds light on the figures, it was their previously dead father—Reginald Hargreeves.

“Dad, you’re alive.” Luther says softly. The older man scoffs and speaks in his shrill voice, “Why shouldn’t I be? And I am not your father, boy.” The monocled man corrects Luther causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. “What? What’re you talking about? Yes, you are. This is the Umbrella Academy.” Allison questions. “And you would be wrong again. This is not The Umbrella Academy, this is the Sparrow Academy.” As if on cue, six figures appeared near the railing of the balcony in the room.

“Those are my children, The Sparrows. After meeting you lot in the 60s, I was so put off by you that I made it a point not to adopt you, and instead found the others. I was quite successful and adopted eight of them.” Reginald states proudly, his hands behind his back. Another familiar voice grabs the attention of the Umbrella’s, “Dad, who the hell are these assholes in my house?” Ben Hargreeves, formerly dead, but now clearly alive stands before the group. Five squints his eyes at Ben, trying to determine what was off about him. Was it the hair?

“Oh my god! Ben-er-ino is that you? You look so good alive! Well, I mean beside that haircut, but I can look past that. Come give your favorite brother a hug!” Klaus squeals in excitement, approaching Sparrow Ben with his arms wide open. Sparrow Ben meets Klaus with a solid punch to the face. Klaus stumbles back and Luther manages to catch him. “What the hell was that for Ben?” Klaus groans, holding onto his nose.

Five examines the Sparrow siblings, trying to size them up, “You said you got eight. Where is the last one?” Five questions out loud. Suddenly, a small teenage, female figure appears seemingly out of thin air next to Ben. The Umbrella siblings slightly jump at the appearance of another person in front of them before they calm down and realize it’s you. But why are you standing next to Sparrow Ben and why are you wearing a school girl outfit with a sparrow logo on it.

“Y/N?” Five calls out, you tilt your head in response to hearing your name. You squint at Five with confusion, “How the hell does the kid know my name?” You look to Reginald for answers to which he doesn’t provide any. The rest of your siblings join you and Ben in front of the strangers in your home. “I think it’s about time you guys leave.” Marcus states, puffing out his chest. “We’re not going anywhere, this is our house.” Diego replies stalking closer to Marcus. “All right, it looks like we’re going to have to settle this the old fashion way.” Both groups of siblings get into fighting stances, readying themselves to beat the shit out of each other. 

You roll your eyes, your siblings have always had a flare for the dramatics and it’s just never been your style. You use your powers–manipulation of your appearance, to make yourself invisible once again. You study the way the young boy immediately looks for your presence, trying to get even the smallest hint of where you’ve gone. As your siblings start to fight with the strangers in your house you sit back to enjoy the show.

Each one of your siblings is matched up and fighting one of the Umbrella Academy siblings and with the way things are going down, you’re betting on the Sparrows. Marcus is clearly winning against Luther and you’re becoming bored watching them hit each other back and forth. You then come across Diego riding around on Christopher asking him repeatedly about “who his daddy is” this makes you giggle. You then make your way into the foyer where you observe two more pairs of siblings fighting.

Something on the table catches your eye. A sleek, black briefcase rests in the middle, you don’t recognize it, but recall that the Umbrella’s first appeared in this room. You snatch the briefcase and decide to keep it, just in case. “Y/N! Come here and look at this freak!” You hear Jayme call your name from the top of the staircase and follow her voice. Once you reach the top of the stairs you make yourself visible and see the teenage boy, who they call Five, making out with the air. “Guess who the little perv is macking on.” Jayme says wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Gross Jayme, why do you have to say it like that?” You say scrunching your nose in disgust. “Let me deal with him.” You signal Jayme to go away. The boy is still stuck in his daydream and continues to make out with the air. In order to get him out of the dream state you hit him in the side with the briefcase, knocking him off balance. Five rolls to the floor, shaking his head trying to re-enter reality. Immediately realizing his compromised position he quickly gets to his feet raising his fists but once he realizes it’s you, he drops his arms.

“I’m not going to hit you Y/N. I would never fight with you.” As Five lets his guard down, you use this to your advantage, immediately swinging your body in an attempt to roundhouse kick him in the face. He blinks away, dodging the kick, and appears on the other side of you causing you to stumble back since you missed your target. You prepare to hit him again but he blinks away for the second time, this time right behind you and pressed to your backside. Five’s arms wrap around your body, holding you in place, the briefcase still tightly clutched in your hand.

“Love, stop this. I am not going to fight with you.” Five says through gritted teeth as he holds you arms down to your side. You struggle against his grip trying to wiggle free, “I am not your love.” In that moment you swing your head back hoping to knock into his head but a flash of blue light surrounds you. You’re back in the foyer with Five and a couple of his siblings. “Someone hold onto her and make sure you don’t lose that briefcase. I’ve got to make sure Vanya’s okay and then we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Five calls out to his siblings, Luther takes over the hold on you as Five blinks away and snatches the briefcase out of your hand. “I will kill you if you don’t let me go you fat gorilla.”

The Hargreeves siblings manage to “win” the fight against your siblings thanks to Vanya’s powers and take you as hostage without the Sparrows noticing. Luther carries you over his shoulder while the group tries to find a place to rest. Once arriving at a nearby park, the siblings sprawl out and complain about their aches and pains. Luther sets you down on a park bench laying his legs over yours to hold you down. “Get off of me you overgrown monkey! Let me go home or I’ll make you regret it!” You say trying to come off as threatening but Luther doesn’t take you seriously. “You know Y/N, you used to be a lot nicer. Now you sound like Five, and he’s an asshole. Here’s a fun idea! Why don’t you go back to being the nice Y/N we all know and love.” Luther sighs, covering his eyes with his arms and ignoring anything else you say or do.

Five sits up straight from the table he’s sitting at, “Luther quick, hand me the briefcase. Maybe I can time travel us back to the correct timeline.” Luther groans at the thought of having to move, he brings his hand to the floor in search of the briefcase to which he finds nothing. Luther lets out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah…about that…I might have dropped it when that blind one was chasing us with her scary birds.” Luther winces in preparation of Five’s wrath. The look on Five’s face turns murderous, “I ask two simple things Luther, that’s it. So simple even a monkey could do it…or maybe not. Keep my wife safe and don’t lose the briefcase. Is it that damn hard!” 

You let out a laugh and tune back into the conversation at the mention of yourself, “Not your wife short stuff!” Five’s attention is now back on you, his nostrils flaring in frustration, “Yes Y/N, you have made that painstakingly clear. And you’re certainly not as sweet and loving as my Y/N and you’re annoying as hell. But until I can get my Y/N back, you’ll have to do. Not to mention, you’ll come in handy once the Sparrows realize you’re gone.” Five lets out a breath as an attempt to calm down, “We need a game plan and a place to stay seeing as we don’t have one anymore. Anybody have any ideas?” 

part two, part three

[avatar-anna]

Can you write something about reader having an ED and Harry doesn’t notice at first but then starts to notice And then eventually helps you through it?

Try To Find a Way Back

trigger warning: mentions and direct references to eating disorders. please be cautious if you find this topic triggering

so, i don't know a ton about eating disorders and what it's like for someone who has one to be actively struggling with it, and writing about something i don't completely understand makes me nervous bc i don't want to get it wrong. however, since you asked, i'm going to do my best to write this!

in case anyone is curious, this is the article i referenced while writing

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"I just don't understand what her issue is. If I was in her shoes, I'd get help. It's that simple."

"I don't know if—"

"I mean, it's not like struggling with eating makes her special. Like, everyone has body image issues and we just deal with it. Harry will probably break up with her because of all the reassurance she needs. Poor guy probably didn't know what he got himself into when he asked her out. God what a headache for him."

You backed up slowly, not wanting to hear the conversation that was so clearly about you anymore. You'd gone to grab drinks for yourself and who you thought were your friends, but now your hands were shaking so hard you worried the contents in the two wine glasses would come spilling out, glass shattering to the floor. Your heart pounded in your chest, bile rising in your throat. Finding the nearest server walking around with an empty tray and, you set the glasses down before booking it out of the club.

Tears were already starting to pool in your eyes as you ordered an Uber to take you home. Phoebe was one of Harry's friends, but she'd been kind to you since the day he introduced you to her and the rest of his close knit group of friends he'd had for years. You'd been incredibly nervous. You were an outsider, not a model or a writer or a musician or an actor. You weren't extraordinarily talented or beautiful, you were just...you.

None of that seemed to matter to Harry, though. He'd been nothing but flirtatious since the moment he met you. Well, once he was able to look past his nerves. He'd been a bit of a stuttering mess at first, and it wasn't until an hour into talking to him where he really got comfortable enough to flirt, and flirt he did.

It took not one, not two, but three tries to get you to go out with him, your insecurities getting in the way the first two times. But that had been a few months ago, and now you were pretty sure you were in love with him, except now you knew his friends hated you.

She doesn't understand, you thought. It isn't so black and white. You would love to just fix yourself, to make yourself see a doctor, seek help. But eating disorders were a behavioral disease, and when you were in the thick of it, it was hard to shake. You'd told Phoebe about your struggles with your weight and eating disorder in confidence, thinking she was someone you could confide in, only to find her mocking your pain behind your back to someone else, and now you didn't know what to do.

Your phone buzzed with a text message, and you tensed when you saw who it was from.

Bubbie: hey where'd you run off to?

You: not feeling well. heading home

Bubbie: why didn't you say anything? let me take you home

Wiping away a tear, you typed out a text. In most cases, being around Harry would've brought you comfort, but right now, you just wanted to be alone. You couldn't let him see you like this, so unsteady.

You: it's ok. enjoy your first night back with your friends. kissies xx

*.*

You'd been avoiding Harry for the last week and a half. Phoebe's words sent you into a bit of a tailspin, and shame kept you from speaking to him, not wanting to involve him in your issues. Because you realized Phoebe was right. To some extent. You should've been able to ask for help, you should've been able to tell Harry how much you were really struggling, but your shame kept you from reaching out to anyone or asking for help, along with the desire to keep up your habits, which created a toxic cycle.

"It seems like this boy is doing you more harm than good, honey," your mom said over the phone. She was the only one you told about what you overheard Phoebe say.

"He's not the problem, Mom. I just—"

"You were doing so well up until you started seeing him. I just don't want you to slip again. I worry about you, and if being with that boy is causing you problems, then you need to look at the bigger picture."

Her heart was in the right place, it really was. Your mom had been there for a lot of your darkest moments and was rightfully protective of you and your health. But Harry really wasn't the problem. He'd never made you feel like you needed to change your body for him, it was quite the opposite in fact. He constantly praised the way you looked, and not because you needed reassurance or asked him to, despite Phoebe's assumptions. He just really thought you were beautiful.

"I can't just live my life alone, Mom," you said eventually, not wanting to admit more. "He makes me happy."

You heard your mom sigh, but she thankfully didn't press the matter further, even though you knew she had lots to say. She always had lots to say where your boyfriend was concerned. The last thing she said on the matter was, "Just...be careful."

Once you hung up the phone, you fell back against your bed for a few minutes before standing up and walking to your kitchen. A trip to the grocery store was in order, just based on the meager items in your pantry and refrigerator—pasta and no sauce, cereal but no milk, veggies but they weren't organic, and did you really need the family size bag of Doritos—

You took a breath, willing those thoughts away. You were fine. You were just upset about what Phoebe had said about you, nothing more. "It's just the grocery store," you murmured. "You go all the time."

*.*

The grocery store had never looked bigger. There were too many labels, too many colors, too many brands making promises of health and wellness. Your hands gripped the shopping cart until your knuckles were white, eyes wide as you carefully browsed the aisles. Everyone else was going about their business just fine. You watched as people grabbed what they needed with ease, scratching items off their lists and moving into the next thing.

How did they know which bread to buy? How did they decide on a cereal? Whole grain or multi grain? They didn't even look at the nutritional facts before putting something in their carts, didn't stop to do the math, counting calories and carbs and grams of sugar against what they already had. How could they just exist without caring about—

Your phone buzzing pulled you from your anxiety-riddled thoughts. With shaking hands, you pulled your phone out of your oversized zip-up, Harry's face popping up with the notification that he was calling you.

"H—Hello?"

"Hey, you! I feel like I haven't heard from you, so I thought I'd call and check in."

You smiled, despite the anxiousness that still had your shoulders tensed. "Sorry, I've been...busy."

"God, me too," Harry said woefully. "But I've let work get in the way far too much this week. I need to see you. Are you free tonight? I can come over and make dinner for the two of us."

The word dinner filled you with dread. That wasn't a good idea right now. The idea of anyone seeing you eat, even Harry, felt terrifying. But what could you do? Saying no would involve having to explain yourself, and you wanted to do that even less.

"I'd love to," you said, all that anxiety coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah? You're in for a treat, I happen to be a fabulous cook."

"Can't wait."

You couldn't even feel excited to see Harry. The dread of having to sit through dinner took up too much space in your mind. You tried to will it away. You liked Harry too much to let your mind get in the way of messing up the good thing you had going.

*.*

A few weeks later, and you were at Harry's house for dinner again, only this time it wasn't just the two of you.

Your date with Harry went better than expected. You picked at your food and pushed it around, shame eating away at you as you lied through your teeth about not feeling very well when Harry asked why you'd hardly eaten anything. He'd been so sweet, making you a cup of tea, laying down with you on his couch to soothe your fake stomach ache, kissing the top of your head and rubbing a hand over your stomach comfortingly.

You felt horrible for lying to him, and you very well couldn't come clean after the fact, but it was better than talking about it. The less you talked about it, the better.

Tonight, you'd been carefully picking at your food again, making sure to take bites that were big enough to look normal and trying not to look like it was making you physically unwell. Each bite was excruciating, your mind telling you not to eat anymore and that you could never exercise all those calories away. It was all you could do to not focus on all the ways you knew how unhealthy this dinner was. It didn't match at all with your diet journal and you'd have to make up for it by—

"—just so hard, don't you think, Y/n?"

"Huh?"

Phoebe smiled at you, but it didn't feel very friendly. You'd avoided talking to her all night so far, had even taken the farthest seat away from her at the table.

"We were talking about how hard it is to live here in LA," she said, gesturing vaguely to the people around her. "It feels like there's a new diet trend every week, and it's just so hard to lose weight while not looking completely anorexic—"

"Phoebe," Harry said tightly, cutting her off before she could finish.

Your grip was tight on your fork, unable to meet anyone in the eye. Did they know? You'd been careful tonight, and any of the other times you'd seen Harry or his friends recently. You didn't want their pity or their questions or their judgement. Nothing would've been worse than the disappointed look on Harry's face, or the look of disgust if he discovered the truth.

That still wasn't enough to stop, though.

"What? I didn't mean to be offensive. I'm just saying how hard it is to get to that perfect size. Y/n knows what I'm talking about. God, I feel like I can taste every calorie I eat, can't you, Y/n?"

"I—Not really," you said meekly. This was not the conversation you wanted to have right now, especially since it felt like you could feel everything you'd eaten tonight, every single bite, sinking to the bottom of your stomach.

"God, I wish I could just throw it up, you know? Then I could eat whatever I want and not feel guilty about it. No more diets, no more counting calories, I could—"

"That's enough," Harry said, voice sounding harder than you'd ever heard it. He glared at Phoebe, whose mouth was still open from stopping mid-sentence. Her eyes were wide with shock as she tried to justify her conversation topic.

"Excuse me," you murmured to Harry, standing up on shaking legs to step away from the table.

"Y/n—"

"I just need to use the restroom," you said, trying your best to talk around the lump in your throat.

You went upstairs to one of the guest bathrooms where you wouldn't be disturbed, though you locked the door to the toilet for good measure. Panic and guilt and self-loathing swirled through you, tears burning your eyes.

For weeks, you told yourself you had it under control. Your behavior was strict, but not worrisome. And effective, too, but that only made guilt and shame mingle with the feeling of success. Your jeans were loose, but you took to wearing baggy clothes so no one would notice. The scale in your bathroom got lower, but it never seemed low enough. Your stomach was taught, rib cage starting to poke through skin, but that just made you feel even worse about yourself and how quickly things escalated. It was a neverending cycle, but as you continued to lean over the toilet, you told yourself it would be just this once. Just this once and you wouldn't do it again. Just this once—

"Y/n? Can you let me in?"

Tears fell harder when you heard his voice. You couldn't let him see you like this. You couldn't face the humiliation, how disappointed he'd be when he realized—

"Y/n, open the door, or I'll break it down, I swear to God," Harry said with urgency in his voice.

Wiping your eye and then your mouth, you stood up, trembling as you turned the lock. You opened your mouth, unsure if an apology or an explanation would come tumbling out of your lips. But Harry pulled you to his chest before you could say a thing. You couldn't help the sobs that wracked your body as he held you up. His hand held the back of your head fiercely, but not harshly, the other one pushing you as close to him as he could.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've said something sooner. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't realize—I never should've—I'm so sorry."

You didn't find out what Harry thought he shouldn't have done because he rested on top of your head, kissing you repeatedly. He squeezed you so tight, as if he worried you would slip away if he didn't. You couldn't focus on anything else but your own emotions, too ashamed at being caught and guilty for having slipped so far in the first place.

"I was okay," you sobbed. "I thought I was okay. I thought—I thought I could control it."

Harry finally leaned away from you, just enough so he could hold your face in his hands and look you in the eye. "This is not your fault. Do you understand? It's not your fault."

More tears streamed down your face, but Harry's thumbs were there to wipe them away. His eyes roved over your face, searching for something, but you didn't know what. Eventually, he said, "There's so much I want to say, but I think for now...I think you should rest."

You agreed, so you didn't try to object. You were exhausted, just wanted the whole evening to evaporate into thin air. You didn't even care if Harry's friends were still in the house or not, you just wanted all the thoughts in your head—the ones still screaming at you to finish what you started and the ones begging you to let Harry help—to stop.

"I just want it to stop," you mumbled.

Harry rested his forehead against yours, breathing in deep. "I know."

*.*

"You're doing so well, love."

It didn't feel like it. In fact, you felt the exact opposite of well. But Harry was holding your hand as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store, his encouragement pushing you to take each step. "I don't think I can do this today."

"What did your eating disorder say to make you think that?" Harry murmured, causing you to grumble under your breath, but it did the trick. You took another step and grabbed the jar of pesto off the shelf.

He'd been doing that a lot recently. Ever since you came back from the treatment facility, he talked about your eating disorder as if it were a separate person, like it was a little devil with red horns talking over your shoulder and not a disease. It grated on your nerves at first because it made you feel like he was talking down to you, and because he was right. Your eating disorder had been the voice in your head and making you make unhealthy decisions. How he saw it first, you had no idea, you were just thankful he was still here, still with you on your road to recovery.

The trip to the grocery store took longer than it probably should've, especially since you only needed a couple things. But the minute you stepped inside, your body tensed up as you took everything in. It was a struggle not to turn packages over to read the nutritional facts, and even harder to put things in your cart. Today was re-introducing day, which meant eating a meal that had foods you'd actively avoided in the past. It scared the shit out of you, which was why Harry was here.

He'd been incredible, more patient than other people would be. He put up with your mother's harsh words when she blamed him for your relapse, he was there every day he was allowed to visit, and he picked up every phone call when you eventually came home. Whether it was to talk you down or talk about random things that came into his head to distract you from dangerous thoughts, he was there.

You honestly didn't know what you did to deserve him.

"How can I help?" Harry asked when you came to another stop.

"Do we really have to buy the parmesan cheese?" you asked, eyeing the aisle filled with various cheeses with a queasy stomach.

"I think you can do it," Harry said, not entirely answering the question. "I can tell you a story while I put it in the cart for you, if that helps."

"Okay," you said, not really sure if it would.

"Right, let me think for a moment," Harry said, mostly to himself. "Oh. Got it! Okay, so one time I went on this blind date, right? And I normally don't like them because my friends seemed to think I can't function without a partner, which is horribly embarrassing, and I normally have a horrible time, but I went to the bar I agreed to meet this person at, and—"

"What? You hated it?" you asked. Part of you thought it was weird that Harry was talking about a date with someone else, but it was doing its job.

Harry raised his brows at you. "I talk, you push."

You rolled your eyes, but pushed the cart another inch, trying to focus on his voice and not where you were headed.

"As I was saying, I get to the bar, and I'm like, holy shit, because I see the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life, and as I go over to talk to her, someone calls out to me, and I realize the girl I saw wasn't who I wasn't supposed to go on a date with, it was someone else. But I can't just ditch this other girl even though I'm dying to just go over to the girl by the bar, so I stay put and try to engage in conversation and laugh when I think I'm supposed to, but I just—All I could think about was the girl in this cute little mini skirt and vest and what was making her laugh so damn much."

"Mini skirt and vest...at a bar...Wait, you don't mean—You were on a blind date when we met?"

The bar in question wasn't one you frequented. It was an upscale one, and you went because your friend dragged you inside, curious to see if she could get any CEOs to buy her a drink, and you...you were just there to make sure your friend got home okay. But somehow you bumped into Harry, though now you supposed you knew why.

"Not technically," Harry said. "The date was over when I walked up to you, and, well, you know the rest. I charmed the pants off you."

You snorted. "That's not what happened."

You'd known who Harry was when before he introduced himself, it was kind of hard not to. You'd seen music videos and heard his songs on the radio and seen him on your TV more than a handful of times, but it was definitely surprising to see him in person, especially because on screen he seemed so chill and cool and cute, the Harry you met was cute, but he could hardly get a word out.

"Nonsense. I remember it differently," Harry said with a sniff.

"You were so nervous it was so cute," you said, wrapping your arms around one of his while he took a turn with the cart.

Kissing the top of your head, he said, "If that's how you want to remember it, fine. But I do remember talking to you for hours and feeling like no time had passed at all. We closed down the bar, do you remember?"

"Mmhm," you said, nodding against his shoulder. "And then you tried to take me home."

"Can you blame me? I met the girl of my dreams, I couldn't just let you leave."

"You mean that?" you asked, looking up at him.

With everything you'd been through recently, it surprised you to know Harry was still with you. This battle you were fighting was lifelong, and you wouldn't have blamed him for leaving somewhere down the line. You loved him, and it would've hurt like hell, but you would've understood. But he never did, and every time you asked him about it, he just said he wasn't going anywhere.

Eventually, you stopped asking.

"I do," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You did it, love."

"What?" Raising your head off his shoulder, you looked around. You were at checkout, all the items you and Harry set out to buy today sitting in your basket. "We did it."

"You did it, Y/n. I'm so proud of you."

Relief rushed through you. It was one hurdle, just one, but each one was a victory, and Harry was there to help you celebrate each one. It was too public to kiss him, even though you felt the urge to, so you squeezed his hand and kissed the top of it instead.

"I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too," he said, taking you by surprise when he tilted your chin up for a brief kiss. "You ready to check out?"

Anxiety filled your belly once more as the weight of your situation bore down on you once again. Squeezing Harry's hand again, you shook your head.

Harry wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his side. The warmth emanating from him was a comfort, and you breathed in deep, letting the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent flood your senses to distract you.

"Don't listen to the disease, Y/n. Listen to me, okay? How about another story?"

You nodded. "Please."

"You're going to be alright, Y/n, I promise," he said.

And maybe you didn't believe him completely now, but you trusted him enough to believe it for you until you did.

[sanjisboyfie]

yandere luffy headcanons

HAS BEEN LIVING IN MY BRAIN FOR A BIT TOO LONG it needed to be on the interest for everyone to see

yandere ! luffy . . . does not like at all when people eat up too much of your time, it really, really ruins his mood. he's seen people on the islands you've visited be really attracted to your charisma and it really pisses him off. he doesn't even want to imagine someone else coming into your life and being more important than him. no matter how angry he gets about it, though, he won't blame you. he'll blame the other person.

he's making unsatisfied noises at how long you've been standing and talking to the old lady about the prices of the goods. to him it was too boring to be conversing about it for so long, but now he was also getting annoyed with how attentive you'd been to her.

"let's go! let's go! let's go!" luffy began berating you for staying there for so long, trying to tug you away from the old lady.

"ah, he's quite lively isn't he?" she didn't seem bothered by his behavior, but luffy was bothered by her comment.

"you're takin' up too much of our time, old lad-" a hand clamped onto luffy's mouth before something rude could properly leave luffy's lips.

you bowed apologetically to the woman and dropped beri into her hands and took your share of the groceries.

"yay, thank god," luffy sighed, draping himself over your shoulders to increase skinship, "let's just go back to the sunny, please!!!"

yandere ! luffy . . . very clingy, beyond the normal bounds of that word. he feels as though it's only right that he should be practically living in your skin. he's your portable human backpack, wrapping his arms around your neck and legs around your waist. he also accidentally found out it was the perfect way for him to spy on you and whatever you did. he'd be watching with an attentive gaze at the tasks you do, who you talk to, etc. and he loves it. all he has to do is rest his chin on your shoulder and then he gets to see everything you see? he loves it.

yandere ! luffy . . . who definitely has zero concept of what manners are when it comes to people besides you. he doesn't really care if the person he's talking to thinks his tone is rude or brash, they're not you so it doesn't really matter to him how he speaks to them. he just looks at them as if they're weird for demanding more respect from him and then he blatantly refuses to give it to them. why should he respect other people that aren't you? that's weird...

yandere ! luffy . . . asks the most invasive questions, with an innocent smile on his face too. another thing he does with an innocent look is threatening people, wayyyy too casually.

"do you want me to kill them?" he grinned, laughing to himself - as if the idea would be funny. the person he was referring to was some woman that was shooting her shot with you. she was smiling ear-to-ear and gently asking if you'd like to spend time with her, somewhere quiet. luffy overheard as he was sitting behind you and whipped his head around, looking her up and down.

"luffy!" you'd scold him, chopping down on his head at the threat. he didn't pay your words any mind though, a displeased look on his face.

"she's interrupting our time together, though," luffy whined, pointing a finger at the woman who was now more baffled than bashful, "you! don't think you'll get away with this! i'll beat you up!"

"luffy! stop!!" you defended the poor woman, but she had already ran away in fear.

"good, she's gone! c'mon, have some of this meat!"

yandere ! luffy . . . places his strawhat on your head knowing that it makes everyone that interacts fear for their life. the hat has become an image associated with the intimidating captain and the destruction he brings to enemies that step in his way. also it makes him happy, fuels a possessive desire in his soul.

yandere ! luffy . . . doesn't really know exactly what he wants in terms of a relationship with you because he just isn't informed or has experience in that stuff. but ! he does know he wants you, completely. he wants you and will not stop striving for you until all of you is his to have, own, and keep. (emphasis on keep because you won't ever be leaving him)

[hederasgarden]

Today I’m thinking about a somehow equally nerdy navy medic with a crush on sweet Bob and Phoenix and hangman obsessed with trying to get these 2 to realise they like each other that’s all…

Hangman would be so amused, I think, and view it as his personal reality TV show. Maybe Rooster catches on because Hangman is staring awfully hard at Bob one day.

“Working on a crush there, buddy?" Rooster asks, tilting his head in Bob's direction. "It's okay, you can tell me. This is a safe space."

“Huh?" Jake asks before he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "No. But someone else is," he says, drawing the other man's attention to the way you're leaning against the wall, openly staring at their WSO. You're watching him so intently that it takes you a few tries to find your straw with your tongue. It's almost endearing how inept you are.

Then the two of them end up working together to help you get the attention of a clueless Bob and oblivious Phoenix. After a few mishaps, Hangman decides a direct approach is necessary because as oblivious as his two teammates are, you’re even worse.

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Word count: 700

Rating: Gen. Humor and flirting.

Hangman first comes to you after you've finished the annual mandatory CPR training course for the pilots.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in close enough for you to get a whiff of his overpowering aftershave. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. “I get it, you’re a little inept at this whole thing but I’m here to help.”

“Okay, buddy...I think I know way more about anatomy than you do,” you tell him, packing away the CPR dummies. His friend with the mustache coughs and Hangman arches one golden eyebrow looking bemused. It takes you a few seconds to realize what you said. Before you have the chance to feel embarrassed or over explain yourself, he speaks.

"I get it," he assures you. "But I was referring to your little crush on Bob and Phoenix."

“That's not… what… you're crazy," you sputter, shaking your head. "You're way off base," you go on, internally freaking out because you'd been SO careful to play it cool and keep it on the DL. You were a consummate professional every time you interacted with Bob and Phoenix. Calm, cool, and collected. Smooth as butter.

"Uh-huh. There's no need to be shy, sweetheart. We're gonna help you get your man. And girl," he adds.

You're not sure if it's his insufferable smirk or the ridiculousness of the situation but your embarrassment fizzles out and you're left feeling more annoyed than anything else. Who did this guy think he was?

"First, Lieutenant Trace isn't a girl. She is a woman and an accomplished pilot to boot. Also, don't call me sweetheart. It's weird and creepy.” You poke him in the chest to drive home your point. "Also, you can tell Tom Selleck over there I don't need his help either."

“Woah, hey," the other man says, hands raised. "I'm just an innocent bystander here."

"What's your plan?" Hangman questions. "Stare at them some more?"

You scowl but before you can reply another voice interjects. “This guy bothering you?”

Your freeze at the familiar voice, your surprised expression mirroring Hangman’s. Phoenix’s dark brown eyes meet yours when you turn and oh god, she looks so effortlessly beautiful. You should reply with something witty and funny but it’s all you can do to stand there, slack jawed until you see Bob right behind her.

He offers you a bright smile and Phoenix touches your shoulder as she leans in to mock whisper, “Hangman’s not always the best at knowing when he’s not wanted. Like now for example.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Hangman asks.

“As entertaining as it was to watch you obsess over this whole thing, I decided the direct approach was easier for everyone involved,” the mustached man says.

“Okay, Tom. You’re good people,” you finally say.

“It’s Rooster actually and I know. Such a good person,” he says with a wink, nudging Hangman.

“Bye, Bagman,” Bob says, staring at the other man until he finally leaves with Rooster.

“Now,” Phoenix begins, fingertips dancing down your arm to capture your hand in hers. “What’s this about you having a crush on us?”

[lavenderlyncis]

Join me in reviewing Olivia Rodrigo's album GUTS. I've waited years for this!!

all-american bitch - 9/10, big fan. I love it when she screams because the world is unfair. same girl, same

bad idea right? - 10/10. I know this one is controversial but I LOVE her more punky songs, I think that's when she's best

vampire - 10/10. I'm not always a fan of piano ballads, but the bridge and outro really make it for me. The hurt turning into anger and despair is just so cathartic. And the video is one of my faves of all time

lacy - 1000/10. What the hell. Did not expect to feel this much emotion from that title. Uhhh... yeah, same. I super relate to that. Whether or not lacy is supposed to be a real person or a manifestation of the beauty standard, this hits. Also, idk if I'm making this up but I dig the romantic undertones, they sell it

ballad of a homeschooled girl - "I made it weird, I made it worse"/10. OLIVIA HOW DID YOU KNOW that I lie awake thinking about all the weird things I did and said, Olivia, did you write this for me specifically??? Every day I am alive IS social suicide. I'm sorry, this is my song, actually. "Can't think of a third line", she's so real

making the bed - "I'm playing the victim so well in my head"/10. How. Does. She. Do. It? I could write an entire essay about this song. Maybe THIS is my song?? She's so good at saying exactly how I feel. I already know that this song will play a million times on my phone. Also I love the drivers license references. Big fan of the making the bed metaphor

logical - 9/10. favourite crime vibes. She's good with these songs about bad relationships. Used to be my favourite thing she did, but now I'm more invested in the songs that are about her/other experiences. That being said this song is really fucking good. This is the Olivia I fell in love with and she's still amazing at doing piano ballads

get him back! - 9/10. Olivia having ANOTHER song with speak-singing where she wants to get back with her ex?? Yes, PLEASE. Bad idea right 2.0. Fucking obsessed

love is embarrassing - 10/10. I said it before I'll say it again, angry Olivia is the best. And she's right, love IS embarrassing as hell

the grudges - 10/10. She does the paino ballads SO WELL. I think this is my favourite one on here. Because, wow, yeah, that is how it is

pretty isn't pretty - i can't rate this/10. GOD, I love it when she talks about insecurities. And don't think I don't see that skipping lunch line. It's sp hard to articulate how this song makes me feel. Especially since I've been low key comparing myself to her, even though we have entirely different bodies and faces. It's nice to know she also struggles with this. And she's right, you could do literally anything to change your appearance and you'd still be unhappy

teenage dream - 100000/10. "Is it recording? Of course it is.", the way I gasped. Okay, I love the interpretation of it ending with a child to be about growing up and childhood innocence. But the line she says?? Especially combined with the meaning of the song it feels a lot like it's about taking away youth by recording it and putting it out there just like she was supposed to be everyone's teenage dream as a child actor and young musician. This feels so personal to her while also being relatable to others. I'm 19 too, Olivia and I are born in the same year. And this is exactly how I feel about growing up. I hope it gets better, my teenage years were crap, I'm tired of being young, but it's also the only thing I can hold onto. I'm honestly terrified of turning 20. But hey, Olivia did it, so... it'll get better, right?

[waywardsunlight]

I think Luz's trauma due to being an abuse victim gets ignored a lot in favor of other characters. Luz has an odd role in the fandom as this character who other characters rely on, or who isn't an abuse victim but is supportive of her friends who are, and I think that ends up missing a huge part of her story.

Belos compliments her a lot, which is partially because he wants to reach out to her and mostly because he thinks he can manipulate her. He does some backhanded compliments, telling her she's improved but she still has work to do to catch up to him. He also thanks her quite a few times. The way he thanks her intentionally triggers her guilt, especially when he thanks her for helping him with Hunter. He also compliments her to put other people down, like when he tells her she's "better than this" (implying their race makes them morally superior).

He also uses the same manipulation tactic on Luz that he does on Hunter, although it doesn't work as well on her. He tries to remove his own agency for his physical violence by blaming the Curse. The biggest example is in King's Tide, when he pretends he can't hear her as he's racing after her to try and kill her. He ends up cutting her face while pretending to be out of control and then in the same sequence has full control and clarity to talk to Hunter and the Collector. He gaslights Luz by trying to make it seem like it was The Curse causing him to act in the way he did.

He refers to Luz as "crazy" to invalidate her emotions and harming Hunter in front of her also is a form of abuse. He's obviously aware that hurting Hunter traumatizes Luz (and everyone else) but as his focus transfers from Hunter to Luz in Hollow Mind, he starts targeting her specifically by harming Hunter to hurt her (especially in TTT). Belos shifts the blame for events from himself to Luz and also attempts to make her feel guilty. Hunter seems to understand that Luz is also being abused and tries to reassure her that Belos is an abuser and she shouldn't take what he says at face value. Luz ends up taking that advice to heart after she's able to forgive herself and face Belos. She doesn't speak to him but is able to hear his manipulation tactics and just. stare at him bc he's full of bullshit.

Just because he 'only' hits her a few times and isn't her guardian doesn't mean he can't abuse her or that he didn't. It's not really a protagonist-antagonist relationship as much as it is "adult man nuking 14 year old repeatedly until she becomes god and kills him". The idea that child abuse can only come from parents and not role models or other adults in your life is odd, because he distinctly holds a position of power over her (literally an Emperor and an adult who intentionally isolates her and the other kids alone to abuse them) and uses it to emotionally and physically harm her.

Papa Titan has to reassure her that she's okay to kill Belos because he's literally a serial killer who's lying about his intentions. Luz still slightly falls for Belos's sympathetic line until that moment because he very intentionally tried to get her to feel bad for him and also feel guilt about herself.

This is also why I really detest any fandom takes where Belos canonically is supposed to care about her, or Luz owes him anything. Manipulation is not sympathetic. Belos committed premeditated murder and then used the remains of his murder victim to try to make a "Better Version" of his murder victim which was actually just a way to punish him repeatedly and keep taking out revenge on kids who had nothing to do with the original conflict. Belos is Luz's abuser also, and Luz doesn't owe him any sort of kindness or consideration and her anger is valid.

Luz is an abuse victim of Belos's in addition to Hunter and the Collector (and Vee/Lilith by extension), and she should be considered as such rather than her trauma being invalidated in favor of other characters.

[fayes-fics]

Innuendo Bingo

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Crack fic. Modern AU. Someone knows a LOT of stupid synonyms for orgasms...

Warnings: Teen and up. Sexual humour, a lot of stupidity. Non-explicit references to sex acts. Basically, I'm sorry.

Word Count: 0.8k

Authors note: Request fill for @sorryallonsy, who asked for Benedict crack fic with him coming up with stupid names for orgasms (ask HERE). I'm sorry this took SO LONG, especially as it is so short. However, I was in the mood to polish off (heheheh) something silly today, and this was just the ticket. Unbetaed cos it's ridiculous. Thanks, and err, enjoy, I guess? <3

Bridgerton family brunch happens once a month and is always memorable. The family usually takes over some swish eatery in central London for a few hours with their unique brand of noisy, chaotic camaraderie. Being Benedict's girlfriend, you are now a part of this melee. It’s one such Sunday when you are finishing your quite delicious but oversized meal that Benedict leans in.

“I can't wait to have you naked again,” he rumbles right in your ear.

You almost spit your last mouthful all over the table. After a few beats, you recover enough to reply.

“Your mother is right there!” you chastise sotto voce, nodding imperceptibly across the table, pulling a pointed expression, even as your mind is filled with images of him waking you up just this morning with his tongue between your thighs.

“Please,” he withers good-naturedly. “I have seven siblings. Do you really think this libido isn't genetic?” he jests, a hand on your knee now. 

“Stop it!” you giggle, not wanting to think of his mother that way.

 “Also, she is not paying us any mind,” he points out, crowding closer. 

Indeed, she is engrossed in a chat with Kate and has one of Daphne’s kids ensconced in her lap, diverting all her attention.

“Besides, are you telling me you don't want to have another orgasm today?” he goads, lips warm on your neck as those fingers spider higher up your thigh, knowing precisely what your weak spots are and exploiting them.

“Well, now… I didn’t say that…” you counter, eyes fluttering closed briefly at his onslaught. “But I might need a few hours after all this food,” you mime a bloated stomach.

It's his turn to chuckle, a warm sound that skitters over your skin. “That's fair,” he assesses. “Can't be releasing the Kraken if you have a food baby…”

You can't help but emit a bark of laughter at that. Everyone at the table looking briefly askance at you before resuming their discussions.

“The what?” you wheeze.

“You heard me,” he quips warmly. “Don't like that? I've got a million more,” he vows, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Don't…” you warn softly, but that just seems to goad him on.

“Making waffles? Popping the weasel…?”

“Waffles?” you frown, “I thought it was whoopee?”

“That too,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in that adorable way as he continues. “Petting the cat? Nulling the void? You can cuff my carrot, and I’ll dial your rotary phone?” each phrase is delivered full of mirth, close to your ear, and you can't help the stupid grin on your face.

“Stop it,” you protest weakly, nudging him gently with your elbow but having to muffle your laughter into his shoulder.

“I’ll stop when you stop finding them funny…” he counters genially. “Marching the penguin? Downstair DJing? Turning on the sprinklers? Debugging the hard drive?”

Each one has you hopelessly sniggering to the point you can't breathe, and little tears form at the corner of your eyes.

“What in God's name are you doing to your girlfriend, Benedict?” Anthony’s voice suddenly rings out from the head of the table. “It looks like she is about to die… hands where I can see them, please!”

Everyone at the table twists to look at you and laughs as both of you instantly raise your hands as if being held hostage; you mortified by the idea everyone thinks you might be up to things in front of them all, even though you know Anthony is joshing. 

But then Benedict murmurs a quiet parting shot out the corner of his mouth. 

“Chastising the family… jewels...”

And yeah, your loud snort is definitely undignified.

—

You are back at his place relaxing on the sofa a few hours later - When Harry Met Sally is playing on the TV - when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Fancy doing a Meg Ryan?” he whispers, his tone laced with levity.

“Bit late for that. We left the restaurant a few hours ago,” you sigh in mock disappointment, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“I don't mind a private performance,” he breezes, trailing a hand over your neckline and nuzzling your cheek. “I rather like the idea of watching you paddle your pink canoe….”

Yeah, no, you definitely lose it at that one. 

Collapsing into him, your laughter does not even subsidise when he unzips your dress with his practised skill.

“Please… one ticket to the solo show just for me?” he implores, kissing along your jaw. “Visit that safety deposit box? Orbit Venus? A little double-clicking?”

“You are going to need to stop…” you object faintly, an odd mix of lightness from giggling so much and arousal coursing through you as his fingers circle over your underwear.

“Never…..” he teases in that gravelly tone that always persuades you.

“Fine, but only if I can watch you polish your bannister…” you throw back, pushing off your underwear with a comic flourish.

His laugh is deep and all-consuming, racking his whole frame as he suddenly scoops you up and strides towards his bedroom.

“Deal!”

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa @urfavnoirette

[shadow-fell]

Notes on Cazador's Spawn

Mostly for my own reference but hey, someone else might find it useful.

Cazador Szarr becomes the Master Vampire of Baldur's Gate in 1276 (list of master vampires) completing the Rite of Perfect Slaughter on his master, Vellioth.

Astarion's gravestone gives his years as 229-268 DR. There are two assumptions we can make here: the first is that this is just being written without the 1, so he's turned in 1268 DR. The second is that it isn't DR, but instead meant to be Northreckoning - which would make the dates 1261-1300 DR.

We have a few choices here: if it is in DR, either the 1276 date is wrong, or Astarion was somehow turned before Vellioth was killed. Because of that, I think it's a bit easier to assume NR, especially since he's "one of the first" and not "the first". But this is a bit nitpicky.

For the rest of the spawn:

Petras is around ~1390 ("one hundred years eating rats and dogs" from the Flophouse convo)

Yousen is around ~1430 ("only sixty years" after Cazador's defeat)

Dalyria was Physician General to the Parliament of Baldur's Gate (journal). The Parliament of Peers was founded in the mid-1400s, so she would have been turned after this point ~1450

Leon is at least from 1486 (6 years of favored spawn) maximum ~1480 (turned while Victoria is alive based on diary)

Violet and Aurelia have nothing that concrete. However, Violet does offer a prayer to Kelemvor after Cazador's defeat, so I'm going to assume she didn't pick up worship of a new god as a vampire, which makes her turning after Kelemvor's ascension in 1358.

This leaves us with like a century gap, with Astarion (and maybe Aurelia) being turned around 1300 and everyone else in the 1400s. But there's an answer to that as well...Jaheira and Astarion have a party banter

Astarion: Cazador always warned us to stay clear of this neighbourhood. Never said why, though. Jaheira: The last spawn who tried was sunk into the cobblestones and left for the sun to find. I had an unfortunate taste for theatrics, in my youth. Astarion: Ah. Yes, that was probably it.

The original BG games are set 1368/69 - so probably around then or shortly after is when Jaheira killed at least one of the spawn; we can assume there's a few more that got killed and replaced in the 1400s to get back up to magic number seven.

(more on the Szarrs below the cut)

The Szarrs were a merchant family. In 1479, they had been wiped out in an attack that destroyed their home in Tumbledown in the Outer City, leaving only Cliffside Cemetery within large caverns, and which were home to strange lights that could be seen from the river. Rumors about the Szarrs being seen as ghosts were commonplace.

The crypts under the Szarr Mansion we see in BG3 are the Tourmaline Depths, discovered by Donnela Szarr the architect - based on the article while she was Master Vampire in 1138-1204, but potentially earlier. I think it is reasonable to assume that the Depths are connected to the Cliffside Cemetery and Szarr family crypts underground (deeper than the Sewers or Undercity).

Amanita Szarr, or Lady Incognita, has a series of journals dated to 1477 recounting her turning.

Alturiak: describes that she was raised near Anga Vled, and rarely visited her 'Uncle' Cazador

Tarsakh: summoned on her thirteenth birthday

Mirtul: references every living (well, vampire) Szarr as Uncle Cazador, Granddam Fistula, Great-Aunt Dralia, and Cousin Blovart.

Kythorn: describes being turned, imprisoned in the attic. for refusing to participate. Then she drank human blood, and at least a year later, sent up a captive.

Flamerule: "succumbed" and declares herself Lady Incognita.

These span over 6 months (skips Ches after Alturiak). Reasonably, I think these were written during the period of the "captive" sent up, which puts her turning proper probably in 1476, born ~1462. We can probably date the death of her parents to be the killing of the Szarrs, while she was very young. About 15 years before 1479 is perfect time for a ghost story to develop while gangs to take over.

(Anga Vled is a gnomish village between Baldur's Gate and Elturel, along the Risen Road - so not far at all from where Act1/2 are set)

If we assume that the relations Amanita describes are accurate, the tree would look like this. Given that they're an elven family (or at least, Cazador is elven) that means we have a lot of space to work with, timeline wise, but the quotes around 'uncle' might mean he's actually Dralia's son or Amanita's great uncle, to give a bit more space.

??? (Donella Szarr?) |-------| Dralia Fistula |-------|--------| Cazador ??? ??? | | Blovart Amanita

The question is: if the Szarr family are all vampires, then what does it mean that they haven't shown up? And that Vellioth was apparently not a Szarr but was still the Master Vampire (and definitely in charge over Cazador?) Who turned them?

My personal theory goes something like this:

Donnela Szarr, wealthy (but not Patriar) elven merchant has at least two children, Dralia and Fistula (probably not real name because come on)

some time from 1019-1138, Donnela Szarr, while investigating the tombs below her family's estate, encounters Hideous Gathwycke and is turned as his spawn.

1138, Donnela Szarr kills him and becomes Master Vampire

Donnela turns Vellioth

Donnela potentially turns her children to grant them immortal life

1204, Vellioth kills Donnela, becomes Master Vampire

Vellioth takes control of the Szarr family (intimidation, magic, or potentially turning Dralia/Fistula, if they're his spawn and not Donnela's)

Cazador is turned by Vellioth (at least 1260, probably earlier)

1276, Cazador completes the Right of Perfect Slaughter

~1460, other Szarrs die; Amanita sent to the countryside.

~1475 Amanita turned

I imagine that Cazador was fairly young when Donnela was killed (young enough to not be turned yet), and knew Vellioth already, even if it might have been some time before he was turned. I'd put him at no more than 100 when Vellioth becomes Master Vampire; their relationship (and "martinet") feels very 'strict teacher' which makes me wonder if he was a tutor beforehand.

The debate is whether the Szarrs were killed for mundane reasons (rival merchants), by vampire hunters, or by Cazador himself. If he killed them, it might be for refusal to let him turn them into vampires (Blovart as the exception), or some level of sibling rivalry? Amanita's parents are presumably not vampires since she was turned, but that doesn't remove the chance of monster hunters.

Based on the timeline, Blovart may have died sometime after Lady Incognita's entries, placing Leon as his replacement for the seven spawn (maybe the Favoured Spawn room was his by default, and became a competition after? The fact it only goes back 6 years is interesting). Perhaps related to how she left or died herself.

Dralia and Fistula's absence might be that they don't live with him, but I could also see if they discovered the Rite of Ascension and tried to usurp him and got killed for it. Cazador is fascinated by the idea of family, and I could see him very much wanting to keep his family intact but also has no qualms about killing his own mother / aunt if they actually posed a threat to his real goals.

All of this + the Lady Incognita stuff is very rough, presumably a lot of it having been cut with the Upper City/shift in direction for Cazador's story. For more links/information, there's also this masterlist.