#she received the least for bringing the most to the group i would argue and i still love every one of them

[a9saga]

miss a - only you // 9 years ago I got into kpop with this and exo's "call me baby"

[moonlightisdancing]

Like A Virgin/ j.t.k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI practically smut w no plot, mentions arguing/drinking/parental issues, sneaking out, consumption of weed, pure awkwardness, some fluff, oral sex (m+f receiving), loss of virginity (m+f), penetrative unprotected sex

as always please lmk if anything’s missed

inspired by my dear nick & this song

a/n: sorry if this is kinda cheesy/short/whatever… just needed to write a virgin jake fic

——————🌸——————

“Yeah, maybe we can hang out this summer!”

Those were the last words you’d hear from Jake Kiszka after graduation as he scribbled his phone number and a smiley face next to his picture in your yearbook. He must have known you had a small crush on him that may or may not have developed during senior year calculus after some group work.

His number was saved to your contacts that day but it wasn’t until August came around before you ever texted him, but he wasn’t your first thought. You knew he lived relatively close to you, one block to the left and over the train tracks, all the way at the end of the street. Meanwhile, you only lived a block away from your best and really only friend, Kiera, so she’s who you’d spend most your time with.

Today has been the longest day of your life. A screaming match with your mom over the gap year you decided on last minute, your dad drinking again, an entire summer of pent up anger bouncing around the walls of your home had finally bursted at the seams. You spent all night crying, your mind traveling to the darkest of places. It just felt like you needed a hug, for someone to hold you and tell you it would all be okay.

“Hello?”

It took five rings before Kiera answered her phone. In her defense it was roughly two in the morning and you should have been asleep, too.

“Kiera? I-I could really use your company if you can.” The sobbing hadn’t stopped, the words barely coming out.

“Y/n… My parents won’t let me out this late, you know that.”

“Even if I walk there? I-Kiera, I just need a hug or a blunt, something. And I don’t know anyone else.”

“Well, you know Jake, and his mom’s much nicer than mine.” She sounded irritated but you knew she was trying her best to be patient.

“I haven't talked to him since grad, I can’t just hit him up.”

“Just text him? He posted on Snapchat like fifteen minutes ago and he lives right there.”

“Okay, okay, fine. But what if he thinks-”

“Just do it and let me know, okay? I love you, good night.” She hung up before you could even respond.

Breathe, Y/n, it’s fine, everything is fine.

You: Heyyy Jake it’s Y/n

Jake K: Hey stranger, what’s up?

You: So super awkward, but I’m in desperate need of a blunt and a hug

Jake K: Done and done. Remember where I live?

You: Yeah

Jake K: Come on by, porch lights on

How could you forget where he lived? Sure, you went once for Jake and Josh’s graduation party, but after learning how close your highschool crush lived to you, you’d never forget. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and splashed your face with cool water in attempts to bring down your swollen red eyes. A little bit of deodorant and some perfume would be the finishing touches before returning to your room. You couldn’t leave through the front door, the dogs would bark and it would add one more thing to the list of arguments yet to be had. It doesn’t matter you’re eighteen, as long as you lived under your parent’s roof, it was their rules. You opened your window and climbed out, using the junction box outside your window for leverage.

It takes eleven minutes to walk from your house to Jake’s, where he’s already standing on his front porch waiting for you. He’s in basketball shorts, slip on Vans and a pullover hoodie, and somehow he still looks good as ever. You weren’t half way up his driveway before he began walking towards you with his arms wide open. At graduation he only offered an awkward side hug, so this sure was new to say the least. Jake wraps both his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You inhale his scent, he just smells like home. Not yours, most likely his, but home with a hint of worn off cologne. Your heart begins racing a lot faster than you want to admit as he holds you until you let go.

“Shall we?” He asks in a deep silly voice as he leads you through the gate to his backyard. There was a firepit in the middle of some chairs and a cute little picnic table off to the side. You follow him towards the mahogany stained wood and sit across from him. The only light was that of the full moon washing over everything in a blue tint.

“Do you know how to roll?” Jake asks as he empties the contents of his pockets on the table.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head.

“S’okay, I can show you.” Jake turns the flashlight from his phone on, handing it to you to hold. He walks you through the process, admittedly you paid more attention to the way his fingers moved than the actual task itself.

You watch as his tongue parts his lips and licks across the blunt, sealing the weed inside. Jake reaches for his phone, his fingers brushing gently against your knuckles. The two of you stand awkwardly from the table, the moonlight illuminating Jake’s soft features.

“C’mere, I know a spot.” He holds his empty hand out towards you and waits until you place your palm in his. Jake guides you to the side of his house and down a tiny path that leads to a creek. There resides an old metal bench that Jake directs you towards. He places the blunt between his plush pink lips and brings the lighter to the end, the red hot cherry casting a golden hue against his cheek bones. A couple silent puff, puff, passes happen before you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. Life’s just been kinda…” You trailed off.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” He shifts to face you, bringing his one leg up. “We’re here now, that’s what matters.”

More silence occured as the blunt was worked down to nothing, but the silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to talk about your problems and ruin the safe bubble that naturally surrounded Jake’s existence, opting to ask him about his plans instead.

“So, is the band doing good or are you gonna go to college?” You ask, matching his stance by turning to face him.

“Band’s going places, I think. I dunno, gotta wait for Sammy and Danny to finish school, then we’ll really know. You?”

“Taking a gap year, but who knows? Maybe I could be some rockstar’s girlfriend.” Sheesh, the weed had you feeling ballsy.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The comfortable silence had now grown awkward as you struggled to even look in Jake’s direction.

“You should hear me play some time. I-I mean if you wanted to I can right now.” Jake stumbles over his words, presumably a mix of anxiousness and marijuana.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” You nod and stand at the same time Jake does, taking his hand once again as he held it out for you. His palms feel warm and clammy, usually you’d be off put but his nervousness is endearing.

He opens the little side door to the garage and flicks on the light. It smells very garage-y, the whirring of the fluorescent lights really tying it together. He walks to the opposite side and grabs his acoustic guitar before suggesting you sit on the couch next to him.

“We’ve been working on this one for a little bit, it’s called Flower Power.”

He plays chords to a song you hadn’t heard, singing chunks of lyrics alike. It was a beautiful song nonetheless, maybe even one you’d listen to on your own accord.

“Wow, she must be a lucky girl.”

“Think so? Why’s that?” Jake giggled as he discarded his guitar. He flicked on a lava lamp before shutting the flourecent light off and returning awfully close beside you.

“Are you kidding me? If someone wrote that about me, said that to me?! I think every girl wants to be loved that way.”

“Yeah?” He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Yes!”

“And what if I told you someone did?”

“What?” Your cheeks flamed red, matching the color of the lamp beside you.

“That’s your song, Y/n.” Jake reaches his hand out to yours again for the third time tonight, this time interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Mine?”

Jake nodded before some force pulled the two of you together, your lips crashing into his. After months of wondering what he tasted like, the flavor of weed and spearmint on his lips was one you’d never forget. The kissing grew quickly heated as Jake’s hands found purchase on your hips, his knee planted between yours as he hovered over you. You found yourself rutting your hips up against his as he did the same, the feeling of his hardening length against your clothed center driving you places you’d never been. The kissing led to shirts being removed, ultimately leaving you in your bra and underwear, Jake in his shorts.

“What d’ya wanna do?” He whispered between kisses, his hands migrating to your breasts.

“Um, not sure… I’ve never-”

“No, me either, it’s okay.”

“I can- do you want head?”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah,”

Jake sat beside you again as you stood between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees. You’d never given head before, or done anything along these lines. Your body filled with an unfamiliar sensation as you progressed, dipping your fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers. His length sprung straight up and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Never would you have thought he’d pack so much heat. You gently wrap one hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his length as you work your lips over his blushed tip. You watched a few videos here and there to sort of have a general idea, trying to remember anything from those as you bobbed your head up and down. Jake’s hands cupped either side of your face as he moaned and whined before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed with him in your mouth, his dick twitching in response.

“Can I give you head?” He asks, lifting you from his length. You nod eagerly as Jake laid you down on the sofa, kicking off his shorts and boxers. He kisses up the inside of your thighs before hovering over your center. You’re embarrassed by the polka dot cotton panties you wore, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his fingers into the elastic waist. He looks up at you and waits for approval before pulling them down your thighs, tossing them amongst his.

It’s a matter of seconds before his tongue begins exploring you alongside his fingers. Jake’s mouth marries perfectly against your aching bud as he switches between flicking his tongue and sucking. His fingers tease your entrance as he finally pushes a finger in, his mouth continuing its task. You watch him grind his hips against the cushions, his groans growing louder the faster his mouth and fingers move.

“Jake?” You whine, writhing under his touch.

“Hm?” He pulls away, staring at you with his soaked chin and lips.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Bold. The weed was giving you all the courage you could ask for.

“I don’t know where there’s a condom.” He kneels on the cushions in front of you, stroking his length.

“You don’t have one like in your wallet?”

“Why would- I’m a virgin.”

“Right, sorry.” It was kind of implied earlier, but hearing the words leave his mouth felt foreign. It truly astounded you that he was a virgin. People said he got around a lot, it was one of the reasons you felt you had no chance.

“Maybe just the tip? Just to feel?” He shrugged, placing his hands on your knees.

“Yeah… But what if it feels too good? And we wanna keep going?”

“Pull out?”

You knew that was almost always a bad idea, but you let yourself think with the wrong head as you agreed to the idea. Jake pushes your knees apart and slowly brings his hips forward, the pillowy head of his cock rubbing against you. You reach a hand down and situate him at your entrance, bringing your legs up to ease him in. Jake places his hands against the armrest of the couch above your head, his chest hovering over your face as he slowly introduces his length.

“More.” You begged through a breathy moan, wincing as he did exactly as you asked. Jake feeds his entire length inside, his thighs flush against yours as you both revel in the feeling.

“Fuck, this is so… You feel so good.” Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before trailing his mouth down to yours.

The pain of his thick cock stretching your tight pussy quickly subsides as he begins slowly moving his hips back and forth, his lacking rhythm quickly being found. His lips remain on yours, only pulling away from time to time to check if you were okay. Your nails find a home digging into his back each time his hips crashes into yours. With each thrust came the familiar warmth washing over your body causing you to tighten around Jake.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah,” You respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Suck for me, baby.” Jake brings his middle and index finger to your lips, pushing them into your mouth. After you coat his digits with your saliva, Jake brings them to your clit, rubbing circles over your bud. That only brings you closer to your orgasm, one that feels more powerful than any other. The pleasure that rips through you simply could never be replicated by your own fingers again.

“Jake, fuck, mm,” Your moans begin to sound like cries as your body shakes beneath his.

“S’okay, I got you, pretty girl.” He brings his hand back up, wrapping his arms behind your back as he hugs you to his chest. “I’m gonna cum, too.” Jake removes himself from your aching pussy, resting his cock on your belly as he lowers himself and begins thrusting again. It takes seconds for his hot release to paint your skin, being spread by his weight against yours.

“So do you wanna be a rockstar’s girlfriend?” He asks kissing up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

“I would love to.”

[wosoimagines]

Surreal

part 5 of rivals

Jo gets to celebrate winning her first World Cup with not only the national team and New York, but also her niece's birthday.

3,336 words

previous part| |next part

I grinned as the final whistle was blown. There were really only two people who I was looking for. I didn’t even have to really search as I was wrapped in a hug after just a few moments.  

After Becky let me go, I was wrapped in another hug. But this time, I was lifted off of my feet. I grinned as I turned to look at Alyssa. 

“I thought you didn’t like hugs.” 

I had quickly learned that Alyssa wasn’t really one for much physical contact. Not that I had minded. Becky would give me all the hugs I wanted. 

“I think this calls for one.” 

I pulled the two in a proper hug this time. But when I let go of them this time, Becky was pushing me toward some of the others. 

“Go,” Becky said. She gave me another push. “Go. Go crazy with Kelley or Pinoe.” 

My grin widen at that. I was quick to take off before I was crashing into Christen and Tobin first. The two gave me a hug before we were quick to talk about our plans for celebrating now.  

“You know that you can’t have any alcohol, right?” Christen said as she looked down at me. I nodded at that. It had been a topic of discussion that I had with the coaches in the previous days. “No champagne. No beer. None of it.” 

“I know,” I groaned. It was kind of unfair that the rest of my team would get to celebrate while I had to sit out of the drinking. But I knew that I would still have a fun time. “Can I at least spray the champagne?” 

“Of course!” Tobin said as she pulled me closer. Christen was already shaking her head and opening her mouth to argue. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t drink any, Chris. But spraying the champagne won’t hurt anyone.” 

Christen closed her mouth at that. I didn’t miss the slight glare she sent Tobin’s way, but I didn’t have much time to comment on it as this time it was Tobin pushing me away. 

“Go tell Kelley and Pinoe that you’re gonna be the first to do it. They’ll both wanna do it, so tell them you get to since you can’t drink,” Tobin said.  

I immediately nodded my head as I took off to tell the others. I had faltered slightly when Christie overheard what Tobin said that I could do. The two of us even getting into a slight argument which I won with support from both Kelley and Pinoe who had even agreed that they wouldn’t try to sneak me any alcohol if I was allowed to be the first one to spray the champagne in the locker room. 

Once that was decided, I was directed to the sidelines for an interview. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face as the mic was placed in front of me. 

“Congratulations on becoming the youngest player to ever win a World Cup at sixteen years and a hundred and twenty-seven days. What’s going through your head right now?” 

“I don’t even know!” I chuckled. It was true. It was really hard trying to sort my thoughts right now. “I’m just really happy that we won! I know that Jill had received a lot of criticism for choosing to bring me to the World Cup, so to just be able to silence all of those doubters it’s a really good feeling and I’m glad I got to do it with this team.” 

“What was the key to making the most of your time on the pitch?” 

“Yeah, you know, I knew going in that I wouldn’t being seeing an insane amount of time on the field, so I knew that I had to make every chance count. Jill had laid out the game plan to me for the group stage months in advance, so I was prepared to do everything I could to make sure we succeeded there, and we did.” 

“You played in five matches out of the seven that the team played. You started in two of them. What’s that like?” 

“Surreal. There’s no better way to describe it. Even just starting a match at my age is absolutely insane. I knew that Jill wanted to start me against Nigeria, but then to have the chance again when we played Colombia in the Round of 16, of all places, is exhilarating. I just feel bad for my club teammates cause this is all I’m going to yap about for months.” 

“All right, well, thank you for your time and congratulations again on the win today.” 

Instead of being ushered to where the rest of the team was, I ended up being pulled along with Carli and Hope. I was confused by the decision because I knew that I hadn’t won the Bronze Boot because I had only scored four goals, so I was just out of contention for that. There was no way I played enough time to be in talks to receive the Golden Ball. 

“Friends, we congratulate the winner of the Best Young Player award, Jo Knox!” 

I froze for a moment before Hope pushed me forward. I glanced back at her and Carli, who were both urging me forward.  

I snapped out of my shock since I hadn’t even been warned that I was nominated for the award. I was quick to make my way up to the stage. I shook the hands of the FIFA officials that I passed before I was handed the award. I turned to see where the rest of the team was before I held the award up. That only caused the team to cheer even louder for me. At least until I was ushered off the stage. 

I waited to the side of the stage as the other awards were handed out before I got a picture with Carli and Hope as they both had won awards as well. Once that was wrapped up, we were lined up with the rest of the team to receive our medals. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I wiggle to the music that was playing as everyone in front of me had their medals placed around their necks before I was walking the stage again shaking hands with all the officials from FIFA and even the USSF officials that were here before the medal was placed around my neck. 

Becky was quick to pull me into her side as I stood next to her and Kelley. I chattered aimlessly with Kelley until Alex had gotten her medal and then Kelley was quick to attach herself to Alex. It was long after that when we had all received our medals. Christie stepped up to take a hold of the trophy from the FIFA president. 

We all cheered and jumped up and down when Christie and Abby lifted the trophy. With the trophy being passed around it wasn’t long before we were headed into the locker room to start our real celebrations. I had even made sure that I would be the first one into the locker room and grabbed the first pair of goggles that I could. 

I waited until Kelley and Pinoe had made their way in before spraying them with the champagne in my hands to their surprise. It led to the rest of the team cheering and laughing at the two. But it wasn’t long until they got me back as they both sprayed me with champagne. But as promised, I kept away from drinking any of the alcohol that was passed around the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

I grinned as I stood on the float with the others. I looked out at everyone who was here to celebrate with us. I knew that most of my teammates had already had a couple of drinks and you could tell in the way that they were so freely dancing on the float. 

I still hadn’t drunk any kind of alcohol as promised to Christie after our win. That didn’t mean I didn’t celebrate just as hard as the rest of my teammates. I was just able to actually remember what had happened the next night. 

I got distracted from watching Kelley chug the beer she had in her hand once I spotted someone familiar looking in the crowd. I had to do a double take to make sure I was seeing things correctly. 

Spoiler alert.  

I wasn’t. 

As I looked at the young girl, I realized that she just looked eerily similar to Sky. I soon focused on the shirt she was wearing, and it only made me smile at just how similar she was to Sky because it was a shirt with me on it. Then I had the chance to read the sign in her hands. 

Before anyone could stop me, I was jumping down from the float despite all of my teammates yelling out in protest. I darted to where the girl was. She couldn’t seem to stop waving as I got closer. 

“Hi,” I greeted, “I’m Jo.” 

“I know! You’re my favorite player! Look, I made this shirt!” 

My grin got wider as I took in just all the pictures that were on the shirt. Most of them were from goal celebrations but there was a couple from random videos that the USSF had put out that I was in. 

“I made you one too!” 

This time it was the girl’s father who passed the shirt over to me. I took it from the man before looking at the front of the shirt before pulling it over my head. 

“If you have a pen, I’ll sign yours if you’ll sign mine.” 

The girl perked up at that as the man handed over a sharpie to me. I quickly signed the girl’s shirt before letting her sign mine. I grinned at the name that was now on my new shirt. Andy Thompson. 

“You’ve just made her day,” the man said. I looked up to meet his eyes as I sent him a soft smile. “Thank you.” 

“You guys have made my day too,” I told them. I really couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “I don’t tend to get a ton of attention from the fans so to have someone give me a custom shirt means a lot.” 

I got a picture with Andy before I moved to take off to get back to the float. 

“I wanna be just like you when I grow up.” 

I froze at that. I had gotten used to hearing it from Sky. But to hear it from someone who wasn’t related to me? That had me absolutely floored. 

My eyes darted up to meet the girl’s. And all I could see was Sky telling me of her dreams of following in my footsteps. I knew that this was what I wanted to really define my career. How many young girls I eventually inspired to play the sport that I loved so much. 

“Who knows, Andy Thompson? Maybe one day I’ll get to watch you playing in a World Cup alongside my niece.” 

With that I gave Andy a wave before running back toward the float. It took me a moment once I caught up to it to get back onto it. I didn’t even mind as I was scolded by Becky and Alyssa for getting off in the first place as I showed off the shirt I had gotten. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Can I see it? Can I see it? Can I see it? Can I see it?” 

Sky’s voice came through the house before I even saw her. I grinned as she came barreling out the back door and into the yard. I opened my arms up as I crouched down. Sky was still chanting to see the medal as she ran into my arms, and I lifted her up. 

I didn’t stop Sky as she reached out to pick the medal up off of my chest.  

“Can I bite it?” 

I chuckled at that but nodded none the less. 

“Not too hard though,” I said softly, causing Sky to stop just before she could bite the medal. She tilted her head. “If you bite it super hard then you’ll leave teeth marks. Gold is a pretty soft metal so if you really bite it then you’ll damage it.” 

Sky nodded before she softly bit the medal. 

“One day, I’m gonna win my own.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

“Will you come watch?” 

“You play in the World Cup?” I asked Sky. She quickly nodded as she dropped the gold medal so that it fell back against my chest. “Who knows? Maybe if you’re good enough to make the team before I retire, we could win one together?” 

Sky started to wiggle in my arms as her face lit up. I didn’t hesitate to put her down before she was pulling me toward the makeshift goal we had in the backyard. 

“Come on! You gotta help me get better.” 

I grinned as I tucked the medal into my shirt so that it wouldn’t get in my way as I helped Sky practice her shots. There weren’t a lot of skills that Sky could really get the hang of just yet since she didn’t have the coordination, but I helped her with the few skills she could do. 

Neither of us had bothered to pay attention as the rest of our family started to decorate the backyard for the party we were having. That was until Sky’s friends started arriving. Once they did, I imagine I began to feel how Marley usually felt once Sky spotted me since I was left by myself with no explanation.  

I didn’t mind though as I moved to join where most of my siblings were. Most of them were talking about their plans for the rest of summer. I knew that my summer would be filled with joining the national team for the Victory Tour. A couple of my teammates had also been talking about making sure I got the chance to watch them in the NWSL this summer. 

“So, when are you going to be training with Mia Hamm?” 

I furrowed my brow as I was snapped from my thoughts about what my own summer would look like. My eyes found Stevie who had been the one to ask me the question. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“What am I talking about?” Stevie asked as everyone turned to look at us. “Everyone’s calling you the next Mia Hamm.” 

“I don’t know why they are,” Hendrix added on. I sunk in my chair at that. I had heard similar stuff plenty of times from him, Elvis, and Mick since I joined the national team. “You only started two games at the World Cup.” 

“I’m sixteen,” I defended. Not only was I younger than Mia had been when she was at her first World Cup, but Mia had been playing with the team for four years by that time. “I still played in five games. I’m three years younger than Mia Hamm was during her first World Cup. And I scored two more goals than she did in her first World Cup. Besides, I’m not Mia Hamm. I shouldn’t be compared to her because our journeys are different and I'm playing in a different time of the game anyways.” 

“Because you know you’ll never be as good as her.” 

I rolled my eyes Hendrix. 

“Because I know I’ll never develop into the same player that Mia Hamm was. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever be as good as Mia was. It just means that the team doesn’t need me to be Mia Hamm,” I said. I didn’t understand why it was so hard for my brothers to grasp that I didn’t need to be compared to Mia Hamm to be one of the best players. “If I ever do get to train with Mia Hamm, it’ll be a great experience, but I’ve got a team full of world class players that help me out in the meantime.” 

The boys stayed quiet for a moment as I glanced down at my empty cup. I knew that if I wanted to get away from them, I should just use the excuse. But I gave it an extra moment to see if any of them would try to apologize or at least something similar since I had never had any of my siblings tell me sorry in my life. 

None of them did. I took it as my cue to get up. 

I refilled my drink, but I also made sure to distance myself from my brothers. Hanging around my sisters wasn’t bad. At least they didn’t throw insults at me like my brothers. They just weren’t that interested in soccer. 

But I spent most of the party pretty much on the side even as a few people offered me their congratulations on my win at the World Cup. I didn’t really mind, but it would have been nice if at least my siblings had made an effort to spend time with me. I knew that most of my older siblings weren’t entirely sure what to do with me since there was such an age gap and most of the others were just closer to the siblings their ages. Which is what made it so unfortunate that Hendrix, Elvis, and Mick were the closest to me in age. 

When Sky had told me at the end of the party that she was going to have a sleepover with me, it made up for the lack of attention from my siblings. 

“Did you like your cake?” 

I was taken back by Sky’s question as we were laying in my bed. 

“Go to sleep, Sky.” 

“You liked the cake though? I asked Mom to make sure it was red velvet cause I know that’s your favorite.” 

I furrowed my brow at that. There hadn’t been a red velvet cake. It was something I only ever got for my birthday. 

“Your cake was good. Well, as good as a vanilla cake can be.” 

Sky stayed quiet after that for a moment before she had suddenly rolled on top of me. I let out a grunt as Sky looked down at me. 

“Why didn’t you eat your cake? Mom said that they would get you a cake to celebrate too.” 

“Sky, my birthday was in February. It was months ago. Why would we celebrate.” 

Sky furrowed her brow as I could see her getting concerned. 

“You won a World Cup. Why wouldn’t we celebrate?” 

I sighed at Sky’s question. She obviously still hadn’t picked up on just how our family had worked. 

“It’s okay, Sky. It’s important that your birthday was separated from celebrating the World Cup.” 

“No. No, it isn’t. Mom said that we weren’t going to do anything for you,” Sky said as she shook her head. “I asked. I asked her if we could celebrate you too. Cause the whole family was here. It’s important. It’s important that we all celebrate you winning. I want to.” 

“Sky...” 

“No! You deserve cake for winning. Cause you’re my hero. And you did something no one else in our family has done.” 

I sighed as I sat up so that I could face Sky in a more comfortable position. 

“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I promise. I still have the Victory Tour to celebrate. And I got to be part of a ticker tape parade. I promise my win isn’t going uncelebrated.” 

“You still deserve cake.” 

“Then how about we make one tomorrow?” 

“Can we?” 

“If you want to.” 

“I’d like that. Can we smash some into the twins faces?” 

I chuckled at that. I knew that Jo hadn’t liked how Elvis and Mick had talked about me and how they always seemed to be putting me down. 

“Sure, but after we eat a piece first. Or else they won’t let us have any.” 

“Deal!” 

[evereverest2]

Tacos — Terzomega

~part two of the Little Monster series~

2.2k words - smut

Omega escorts Terzo back to the Ministry after a party. At least, he tried.

this one is a little sillier but it sets up the third more serious part (closer to the tone of part 1)

[parts:] one | next

—

The sonorous music vibrated through the building, thumping in his chest with every bright drum, reverberating every dark guitar. There were people, dozens of them, dancing, screaming, drinking, getting high. Omega stood against the wall, hands behind his back, staring forward out from his mask. His eyes were trained on the most tangled knot of humans on the floor. In the center, with one hand in the air and the other sloshing beer on his black shirt, was Terzo.

The crowd of people overwhelmed Omega, with throes of minds and emotions soaring from the group. It reminded him of a concert, but this time, he could not distance himself with the stage or block out the feelings. He had to hold on to Terzo’s thread, only to make sure he was not suffocated or trampled by the rowdy crowd.

Omega was annoyed to be there, just a body for Terzo’s protection. He was living it up on the dance floor, yelling and dancing and drinking, his black makeup smearing with sweat beneath his sunglasses. Omega was the only one they trusted not to join in. That irritated him more— chosen not to have fun.

He checked his watch and found the first good news he had received all night: it was 1:11 a.m. Curfew was at two; otherwise, the ministry would be locked up tight with no admittance. It was around a forty-minute drive back, meaning they had to get going as soon as possible— much to Omega’s delight.

He walked through the crowd, his large stature splitting them like a boat splitting the ocean until he reached the center. Terzo did not even notice him. He was lip-locked with a woman. Omega seethed and grabbed his shoulder.

“Huh?” He looked up at the ghoul.

“Time to go.”

“Ah, then I will bring with me this bellezza, hm?” Terzo grabbed the hand of the brunette he had been playing tongue hockey with.

Omega felt a rage boiling within him. He had been annoyed before, but this surge of anger had arisen from nothing.

“No. No guests.”

“Si guests. Come along,” he began guiding the woman out of the crowd with him.

“No.” Omega stood in front of Terzo, a stone wall.

“Who says I cannot bring guests?”

Omega was silent. He would not argue with Terzo; perhaps because there was nothing to argue. Besides the headache of escorting her out and calling her a taxi in the morning, there was no reason to deny him. Omega had helped Secondo sneak in dozens of women before without a problem.

After a moment of unwavering, Terzo threw his hands in the air. “Fine, you win. Goodbye, bellezza. I hope to see you again.” Terzo kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. She giggled and nodded, her eyes flashing towards the imposing Omega.

“Let’s go then, hm? Asshole,” Terzo muttered, threading through the crowd. Omega was close behind, texting the car to pull around.

They waited outside, the air cooler than within. Stragglers hung out in the yard of the mansion, bottles in the grass. This was the house of a particularly prolific politician who recieved many ‘donations’ from the Ministry. He often invited the Papas to parties, though due to some brewing political tensions currently at play within the Ministry itself, cardinal Terzo was given a pass to go.

Terzo removed a small baggie from his chest pocket, dumping its contents on the back of his hand. He tossed the now empty baggie on the lawn, plugged one of his nostrils, and snorted it off his hand. He threw his head back, sniffed a few times, exhaled, and wiped a drop of blood from his nose.

“You’re a real cockblock, Omega ghoul.”

“No outsiders in the Ministry.”

“Oh, I’m sure you kept Secondo to that rule, too.”

Omega was hoping Terzo did not know that. “You’re still a cardinal.”

“How could I forget?” He laughed. “Papa’s are exempt from Omega ghoul’s cockblocking!”

The sleek black car pulled around. The driver opened the door for them. Terzo climbed in first, then vindictively slammed the door shut behind him. Omega shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. The driver looked at him awkwardly. Omega shook his head, entering on the other side.

“The Ministry?” the driver asked after getting in.

“No, I’m hungry. Let’s stop at that, ehh, taco… ring?”

“No. We’re going to the Ministry.”

“Taco ring!” Terzo demanded. “Do it or you’re fired!”

“You can’t fire him, you’re just a cardinal!” Omega erupted.

“I’m an Emeritus. Emeritus says taco ring!”

“It’s called Taco Bell!” Omega yelled.

“No, that’s not it,” Terzo shook his head. The driver glanced between them, eventually turning to begin driving.

“Where are you driving?” Omega asked.

The driver hunched slightly. “I have to listen to the cardinal… sorry.”

“Tell him we’re going back to the Ministry,” Omega leered at Terzo.

“How about you blow me, signore cockblock?”

Omega slammed the screen shut between the driver and the back, which made it both invisible and semi-soundproof.

“What is your fucking problem?” Omega hissed. “If we don’t go back now we’ll get locked out.”

“I’m hungry.” Terzo was indifferent to his rage.

“There’s food at the Ministry!”

“Yes, but I hear taco ring is excellent for the high.”

“Do you want to be locked out?”

Terzo shrugged. “Then we can go back to the party.”

“If we aren’t there in the morning, Imperator will chew us out.”

“It is not my fault you stop me from getting my stones off, monstriciatto. You are the one who told me we had to stop. I find someone else, and you say, ‘No, Terzo, you cannot have anyone else.’ What is deal?”

Omega glanced at the partition. He whispered, “You can do whatever you want, I was just trying to get us back in time for curfew.”

“But you are jealous, si?”

“No.”

“Then why you get in my business?”

Omega blew out a frustrated breath. “What the fuck do you want from me, Terzo? I just want to be back before two.”

“I told you, Omega ghoul. Blow. Me.”

Omega glared at him. “You’ll tell the driver to go to the Ministry?”

Terzo nodded, grinning.

Omega again looked at the partition, checking it was shut. His fingers quickly jumped to Terzo’s lap to undo his pants. Terzo wiggled them off. Already erect. Figured.

Omega dipped his head down to his lap, quickly taking Terzo in his mouth and bobbing his head. Terzo threaded his fingers in his hair, just below the back of the mask.

Omega did his best work, which was, of course, excellent. He was well-practiced, after all. It was almost as if his fangs had disappeared from his mouth, the way he sucked and bobbed and licked. Terzo immediately melted, moaning constantly. Omega paused to play with his tip using his tongue, which made Terzo’s head fall back and his grip tighten.

“Oh, monsticiatto… I missed you…” Terzo sighed.

Omega hated hearing that. He had broken off their tepid affair very soon after the night Omega discovered Terzo’s deep, secret misery. Having sex with him was not the same, knowing of the deep sadness that most certainly drove his addictions, his need to block out the world with sex and drugs and alcohol. He still did not know why he felt that from him. He tried to never think about it, because doing so would stoke a flame of guilt deep within his gut that he refused to acknowledge. It would make him think of Terzo having a soul, a tortured soul, and Omega could not bring himself to do that. Not to mention how alarmed he was that Terzo could hide and continue hiding that pain from him.

Yet, there he was, sucking the man off in the back of a car. Omega tried to convince himself it was for a purpose, an exchange. But hearing Terzo’s sweet moans again, feeling his warm body shake, his cock twitching in his mouth, was pulling him back to old passions. Omega never realized how much he missed it until now, which was why hearing Terzo say it made him so angry. He was not supposed to miss fucking Terzo. What they had before was nothing. No feelings, nothing between them. Now Omega was getting riled up and horny, finding that he wanted Terzo to cum in his mouth just so he could spit it into his.

Terzo sighed lightly. With Omega’s focused effort, he was a goner. His hips jerked upwards, finishing in Omega’s mouth with a gentle moan. His grip relaxed on Omega’s hair.

Omega sat up, giving in to his urges. He grabbed Terzo by the throat, using his other hand to hook into his jaw and force open his mouth. He could see his eyes just beneath the sunglasses, staring widely. Omega spit the cum into Terzo’s mouth, shutting his mouth with his hand, continuing to hold him by the throat as he struggled to swallow.

Omega returned to his seat, wiping his mouth. Terzo coughed a few times.

“Tell him,” Omega growled, now riled up but unwilling to admit it.

Terzo held up a finger, thumping his chest a few times as he finished coughing. He panted for a few seconds, then opened the partition.

“Err, cancel the, eh, taco ring…” he said, voice raspy and breathless.

“We just pulled up to the drive-thru,” the driver informed them.

Omega’s head swung towards the window. Indeed, they were already there.

“Hooray!” Terzo cheered. “I would like the… tacos. What would you like, Omega?”

Omega gripped the vinyl seats with his claws, enraged. “Nothing.”

“He will have… the… tacos.” Terzo nodded confidently. “Oh, and do they have the… err… the explosion? The blue beverage?”

“Baja blast?”

“Yes, I hear that is very good. Get Omega one too.”

Omega suddenly shut the partition. “You said you’d tell him to go back!”

“We’re already here, mostriciatto.”

“Dammit all.” Omega buried his head in his hands.

“You worry too much for a little lecture. Have some fun, Omega ghoul. A sense of adventure, si?”

Omega was frustrated in all kinds of ways. He chose not to respond.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the partition. The driver handed Terzo an entire box of tacos and a carrier with two neon-colored drinks.

“Ooh, grazie. Did you get any for yourself?”

“No.”

“Have a taco. And to the Ministry!”

“Pardon my saying so, cardinal, but we will not make it back before two.”

Omega groaned. Terzo laughed.

“To the nearest hotel, then! And another taco!”

Terzo threw two tacos through the partition, then unwrapped one for himself. He took a bite and started giggling. “These are terrible!” He devoured it and took another.

Omega was surprised he did not ask to go back to the party, though he was so intoxicated he may have just forgotten.

“Have a taco, monstriciatto. They are so bad, they are good!”

Omega sighed. There was no point in fighting now, and his mouth still tasted sour. He ate one, finding he, surprisingly, liked the taste. He tried the neon soda, which he liked much less. It was too sweet.

The car began moving again. All three silently munched on mediocre tacos, at least, except Terzo, who was not silent at all.

“Can we stop at the liquor? This would taste so good with vodka,” Terzo lifted his cup of baja blast. The driver began poking at the GPS to find somewhere that was open.

Omega glared at him. There was no way he needed any more alcohol in his system. But after the last negotiation attempt, he knew asking Terzo to do anything else would be fruitless.

They quickly ended up in the parking lot of a Walmart.

“The finest bottle you can find,” Terzo told the driver. “And get something for yourself if you like.”

Then, as soon as the driver left, Terzo dove across the seats to climb into Omega’s lap. The box of tacos was knocked to the floor in the process.

“What—!”

Terzo planted his lips on Omega’s, huffing impatiently as his hands started climbing up his body.

“Terzo!” Omega held him back. They stared at each other for a long moment. His sunglasses were askew, revealing his left eye. It was bloodshot, made more obvious by its whiteness.

“I told you we were done,” Omega finally said.

Terzo frowned. “Then we are done. Can we not fuck, then?”

“No, that’s what done means.”

“Eh, what’s a one-night stand? You are hard anyway.”

Terzo grabbed him by the bulge, making him flinch. He began kissing him again, and this time, Omega did not stop him.

Again, it was familiar, and it was something Omega found he had been craving for far too long. His warm lips, though they tasted of alcohol and tacos, were a welcome sensation. Terzo had a knack for knowing just what Omega wanted. That was another thing that irked him— it was his entire existence to know the feelings and desires of others, and yet, Terzo constantly eluded him.

They were distracted for a long time until the opening of the car door surprised both of them. Omega pushed Terzo off his lap, and he ungracefully scooted back to the other side of the car. The driver, with no indication that he had seen anything, handed the bottle of vodka through the partition and started the car.

“Fuck yeah,” Terzo grinned. He rolled down the window, dumped half of the baja blast out, then refilled it with the vodka. He swished it around and took a sip through the straw. He nodded, satisfied, then picked up another taco. Omega turned to stare out the window until they arrived at the hotel.

[parts:] one | next

buy me a kofi <3

[springseasonie]

Complicated | NJM (M)

Best friend's boyfriend x fem reader

Summary: you love your best friend. you've known each other for practically your whole lives. she knew practically everything about except for one thing: your relationship with her boyfriend Jaemin. all you wanted was to be like her, but now you've taken it too far and are suffering for it.

Warnings: sexual content, kitchen sex (scandalous), vanilla sex, oral (fem receiving), mentions of arguing/yelling, lots and lots of cheating/infidelity, lots of angst grrr, Jaemin is kinda mean tbh :/, may contain errors even though I proof read :p

Word count: 3,4k

Song recs: tread carefully by sza, open the door by lolo zouaï

A/N: heyyy. this is my first official onsehot that I'm posting 😭 kinda nervous to post it ngl. I wanted to post something before my birthday at least and I wrote so many other things but they didn't really stick. I like this this one enough to post it, so I hope you all like it too. Please let me know if I'm missing any warnings. Feed back is always appreciated 🩷🩷 also just know that Maya is just a character and not at all related to Maya from XG PLEASEEEE 😭

You felt so guilty, you really did. You hated yourself everyday for giving into your selfish desires, sinful needs, intrusive thoughts. Your best friend was important to you, the most important person to you in the world, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him, you needed him, and unfortunately he gave himself up to you.

It all started on a camping trip you and your friend group went on last summer. Maya wouldn't leave his side the entire time and it pisses you off. You didn't know why it pissed you off, but something about the way she stuck to him like glue was annoying.

"Jaemin, where are you going," she whined, making a childish pouting face.

"I'll be back. I'm just going to get more beer," he replied.

"I'll come too." You stood up following behind him back into the cabin.

Jaemin loved Maya, he really did, but he couldn't help finding himself becoming more and more irritated by her as the trip went on. Her constant nagging, need to be near him, treating him like he was her personal assistant. He had enough of it but couldn't tell her, in fear it would fuck up the vibe of the group.

Jaemin opened the door, allowing you to walk in before him. "Are you getting more beer," he asked.

You were taken by surprise, expecting for the both of you to walk to the kitchen in silence. "Oh no, I just wanted to get away from the outdoors. I don't like bugs and they get rowdy at night, you know?"

Jaemin chuckled softly at your statement, opening the fridge. You smiled as you watched him. Maya didn't really get him like you did now that you thought about it. Jaemin always laughed at your jokes. There wasn't one moment where the both of you felt uncomfortable around each other. You didn't know if it was because of his friendly nature or his good looks. Maybe it was because he reminded you of the dad you never had. You always felt envious seeing him beside Maya, protecting her, holding her, even when he didn't want to.

You've always envied her since a young age. She was perfect, probably everything you wanted to be. Perfect body, likable personality, amazing fashion. You never really understood why she was friends with you, the both of you being so different from each other. Maya never had trouble when it came to dating, but when you met her new boyfriend, you couldn't help but lothe how perfect their relationship looked and how much you wanted it too.

"Well if you aren't bringing anything, do you mind taking some of these for me," he asked.

"Yeah, sure I don't mind." Jaemin placed a couple of beers in your arms. You began to walk, but tripped on your own feet in the process. You felt your feet struggling to gain balance as you tried to pick yourself up, holding the bottles at the same time.

"Woah, woah. I got you." Jaemin wrapped his arms around you, balancing you. Your back was against his chest, and you could've sworn you felt his heart jump out his chest for a second. "You okay?" Jaemins face was leaning down from behind you. His closeness startled you, but didn't scare you enough to move away.

"Yeah! I'm fine just a bit-" you turned your head slightly, lips almost touching his. Jaemin swore time stopped at that moment. He hadn't felt this way with Maya in a while, but something about you was different. He was intrigued, but he knew he couldn't go further. The both of you knew you couldn't go further.

But at that moment, he didn't care. He didn't care that he was leaning into you, lips brushing over yours, sending tingles through your spine.

"Jaemin stop. You're dating my best friend," you say, trying to reason with him. You want your words to be convincing so badly, but the way they come out in a small whisper makes Jaemin feel insane.

Before Jaemin could even speak, he heard the door open with a loud call for his name. The both of you separated at the speed of light, you clinging onto the bottles and him pretending to look in the fridge for something.

"Jaemin," Maya called in a sing-song voice,"where are you two?"

"In the kitchen," he called back.

Maya waltzed in the kitchen, immediately gravitating to Jaemin. You stood there and watched as she hooked her arms with his. She looks so in love. This was the first time you felt the guilt hit you like a truck. Seeing her so happy, and realizing how you almost ruined it a second before she came into the room was your wake up call, and you were sure you wouldn't fall asleep again.

But it's never that simple is it?

You and Jaemin kissed later that night cleaning up the outside of the cabin. It was the most romantic thing that ever happened to you in your life. Under the moon and stars, in front of a campfire, his hand holding yours. You couldn't get it out of your head. The next morning when you saw Maya, you wanted to run and hide. You wanted to tell her right away, but something in you couldn't pull it out. You couldn't break her heart and neither could Jaemin, so the both of you decided to keep it a secret and never let that happen again.

"Jaemin, please. I need you so bad."

Jaemin kissed your neck feverishly as he sits you on your kitchen counter. His hands grasped your hips tight as his tongue ran down the sides of your neck. Jaemin moved his hands from your hips to your thighs, opening your legs wider. His hands make quick work of your shirt and shorts, throwing them somewhere in your kitchen.

You quickly unncliped your bra, shaking it off your shoulders and arms. Jaemin steps back watching you with hungry eyes as he pulls his shirt over his head, taking it off swiftly.

The guilt came in waves sometimes. It was there, then it wasn't. On some days, it was like a tsunami, flooding and pouring all over your mind. The heartbreak you couldn't escape not just for your best friend, but for yourself. You try to convince yourself that it wasn't all your fault, but instead all Maya and Jaemin, no matter how much they meant to each other, they were not good for each other. There were so many times where she called you crying or where you heard him yelling and shouting at her despite how perfect they looked on the outside. Maya was never as sensitive and soft as she looked though. She had a mean streak everyone around her knew about. Always taunting him and bringing up his parents when she knew him and his mother had a bad relationship. They were truly awful for each other, but at least they had each other.

Jaemin immediately attached his lips to yours, hands gripping your legs hard enough to leave marks. He bit your lip, tugging at it softly. When Jaemin pulls away, his eyes are foggy, almost like he'd been crying. He looks so pretty to you, it doesn't matter what he does. Jaemin dropped to his knees, pulling your legs apart even further. He makes quick work of your underwear, tugging them down roughly and throwing them somewhere obscure. Your hands tangle in his brown hair, watching him kiss up your thighs.

"Don't take your eyes off me," he mumbled against your skin.

And with that, his face completely disappeared between your legs. All you could feel was his lips and tongue working at you like he was made for you. You wanted to feel guilty right now. You wanted to hate yourself and him, but how could you, especially when he made you feel this good.

Jaemin held your legs to stop them from clamping around his head. You hissed in pain feeling his nails dig into your skin. His tongue moved against you quickly, making you against his mouth roughly. Your mouth opens, soft gasps and curses leave your lips.

Jaemin watched you as you basically fell apart right above him. You looked so pretty to him every time you fucked, never a dull moment with you. He didn't feel this way with Maya. Feeling like he could do whatever he wanted to you, the feeling knowing he could ask you if whatever and you would argue. Sometimes he wished that it was you he got to hug and hold and kiss and show around to everyone, but he was grateful to you for even letting him in your apartment.

Your brows furrowed as you felt yourself getting close. You let go of his hair, immediately moving your hand to the back of his head pushing his mouth closer to your core. "God, I'm so fucking close."

Jaemin nods, pulling your body closer to his. You let go of his head, placing your hand behind you to keep your balance. You feel your whole body shiver as a tight ball from your stomach. Your moans escape louder, filling the room and Jaemin's ears. His name spills past your lips over and over while you cum on his tongue, giving him satisfaction. Jaemin stood up, kissing you without giving you a chance to breathe. He pulled you off the counter and turned you around, immediately bending you over the surface.

"I-I thought you had something to do with Maya," you asked.

"She can wait."

You weren't as discreet with your excitement as you thought, but it didn't matter that much to you. Jaemin knew you didn't care and he didn't care either. He didn't care that he was doing something he wasn't, saying things he wasn't supposed to.

Jaemin pulled his length out his sweats, taking a condom out his pocket. You watch him as he quickly slides it on. You don't feel guilty, you never have. In fact, you couldn't be happier, especially when he's pushing himself into you slowly, filling your insides like right now. Every time he fucks you, you swear he was made for you.

Jaemin rocked his hips into you slowly, holding your hips firmly. Soft grunts left his lips while you let out soft moans, head resting on the counter.

"Fuck," you mumbled.

"That feel good?"

You nodded, moans becoming whiny with every movement. Jaemin loved every sound you made. Every moan, groan, whine, even gasp felt so genuine, so real. Only you could help him in his fucked up stressful days. Just your voice, body, just you, but he would never admit that, especially while he was with Maya.

"Faster Jaemin."

Jaemin obliged, thrusting inside of you faster. Your moans became louder with each movement, some muffled by your hands. You looked back at him, immediately being met with his piercing gaze. He loves looking in your eyes when he fucked you. It was something he never really did with Maya because she hated the emotional part of sex. But the emotion was something he always had with you, even with no eye contact and that's what scared him the most.

Jaemin's hands never left your sides, especially when you reached back and clasped your hand with his. He thrust deeper into you, making his brows furrowed in pleasure.

"You feel so good," he mumbled.

"I know baby.."

"Fuck Y/N.."

Jaemin leaned down, leaving small kisses on your neck. You tilted your head giving him more access. Jaemin, who was too wrapped up in his emotions, bit your neck softly. Maya told you he did that to her a couple of times, that he only does it when he's in a heated state of mind. This was the first time he did it to you, and probably the first time you felt so close to him in a while.

"I'm so close Y/N," he moaned softly.

"Me too."

"Cum with me okay?"

He watched as you moaned his name, throwing your head back. The grip you had in his hand grew tighter as your moans grew louder. You were close, so close.

"I-I'm cumming Jaemin," you whined loudly.

He nodded as he felt you squeeze around him tight, making him groan in pleasure. Jaemin came right after you, pressing his hips into you. The both of you stood there, Jaemin slumped over your body in pure bliss that was soon taken over by the irritation of having to leave right away.

You could tell how quickly the mood shifted when he lifted himself from your body and pulled out of you carefully.

"I have to go," he said plainly.

It took everything in you not to break down and cry right there. It was embarrassing really- a girl who just fucked her best friend's boyfriend for the 100th time- is sad because he has to go back to her. You're sad because he can't just stay with you for the rest of the day, just lay with you and cuddle. It shouldn't break your heart but it does every time.

"Can't you just say for a little bit?" Your voice came out small, shaky from trying not to break down. You were pulling on your clothes, hands shaking as he stood in front of you with a blank expression.

"I have to leave," he replied sternly.

"I never ask you for anything-"

"You do this every time." Jaemin's voice began to raise a bit. He often yelled when he was angry, you've heard it and experienced it on many occasions, but it was nothing like what Maya had to go through.

"Why do you act like I'm holding you hostage to stay here? Cut the fucking attitude."

Jaemin clenched his jaw, eyes scanning your face when you lean against your counter silently. He didn't want to leave you. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of your angry text, your threats, your attitude. "Why can't you just understand that I have to go and leave it at that?"

"Because you come here and fuck me, then leave and expect me to deal with it and not be upset," you confess.

"You shouldn't be upset. We shouldn't even be doing this," he groans in his palms.

You look at him, hurt filling your eyes. You hated it when he said it out loud. It's as if he doesn't know the torment that occurs every time you see him at your front door. You shouldn't be doing this, but neither should he.

"This wouldn't be happening if you didn't kiss me," you mumbled.

Jaemin moved his hands from his face, a shocked and confused smile on his lips. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

You looked at him, rolling your eyes. "What," you asked with indifference.

"Did you just try to blame this on me," he questioned angrily.

You stood there silent just staring at him with your arms crossed. You couldn't answer. Jaemin walked up to you, looking down at you with an intimidating, dangerous gaze.

"You can't talk all of a sudden," he taunts.

"Fuck you."

Jaemin let a dry, unamused laugh leave his lips. He backed up from you and leaned on your fridge. "Cursing at me isn't going to undo anything we just did you know."

"Do you think I don't feel like shit when you walk in here? You think I feel good knowing how much I'm hurting Maya?" The tears you tried so desperately to hold back began spilling. You frantically wiped your tears when you looked at you.

"No I don't," Jaemin answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I think you don't care enough to have been fucking me all this time."

"You're one to talk. You initiated this-"

"And you agreed. If you were a good friend, you would tell her, but you're not." Jaemin spoke plainly, heartlessly. His words cut through you like glass and it hurt him a bit more than it should. You needed to hear it though. It was the truth after all. "And you might not think so, but I feel guilty too."

"Coming here fucking me doesn't show it," you spat.

"You're not a saint." Jaemin was beginning to grow tired of your victim mentality. Nothing was ever your fault in your eyes. It was always him or her or them, but nothing was ever on you.

"I don't try to be," you yelled. "I'm going through a lot and-and I'm trying to work on it okay? Jaemin what we have is complicated-"

"Complicated," he questioned. "It's not complicated. Nothing about this is complicated."

"So you're telling me you feel the same way with her," you questioned.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're telling me when you leave here and go back to her you don't think of me?"

Jaemin's mouth opened to answer you, but he had nothing to say. He did think of you, all the time in fact, even when he was with Maya. Sometimes he couldn't wait to get away from her just to see you for 10 minutes at most. The first time he realized that was the first time he felt guilty. At first, it was just you and him and a small fling, but when you began arguing, that's when he knew it was much deeper. Maya wasn't good for him, but neither were you.

"Y/N…"

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces hearing the way he said your name. You knew what was going to happen. You thought about it a lot more often than you should, but what did you expect? The relationship you built with him was nothing more than spontaneous. It wasn't supposed to go on for this long, just some fun for the both of you.

"Jaemin, please." The tears were spilling from your eyes freely, fat drops of salty water filling on your shirt. You were shaking, emotions at an all time high.

"We can't do this anymore," he said, a pained expression on his face.

"P-please Jae. I can't handle it. We can work something out," you sobbed. You grabbed his hand, holding it tight as hot tears fell from your face.

"I'm done with this, and I'm done with Maya. I can't keep doing this to the both of you and myself. I'm sorry," he mumbled. He watched you cry, wanting to just hold you in his arms, but he couldn't. He couldn't say the things he wanted to say, do the things he wanted to do. "We're gonna have to tell her.."

You looked up quickly, fear taking over your broken heart. You couldn't tell Maya. You've seen what she did to people who crossed her. Maya might've been sweet and funny, but she was ruthless to people she hated. You didn't want to be hated by her, that's the last thing you wanted from her.

"No, no, no. We-we can't," you stuttered, shaking your head.

"I know you're scared of her, but there's nothing that she'll do to you that she won't do to me," he said, attempting to comfort you.

"You don't understand, Jaemin. She will kill me. Please don't tell her," you begged.

Jaemin frowned, letting go of your hand. "I wish you would at least be truthful to her after this time. You don't have to do it for yourself or me, just her. She deserves to know that her best friend broke her trust.'

His words stung your heart. It was like him rubbing salt in the wound over and over again, reminding you of what you did. "Whatever, just leave."

He let out a heavy sigh grabbing his phone and keys from your counter. "Please know that I didn't want any of this to happen."

And with that, Jaemin left. You couldn't watch him walk out the door, not wanting to cry again in front of him. It's unfortunate that the person you had to fall for had to be your best friend's boyfriend, but that's the way life works sometimes. In the end, you'll always be the secret or the second choice. You were used to it and this was no different.

You stood there for at least an hour, staring at the door or your phone hoping he would come back or text you, but you got nothing. The months of just you and Jaemin finished as fast as it started. Not surprising to you in the slightest, just not what you envisioned. You wanted it to end on a poetic note, much more intimate and emotional, but how could you ask him of that? After all, what the two of you were was complicated.

It didn't matter now, what was done was done, and all there was left to do was wait for everything to crash and burn.

[rufousnmacska]

Firsts

A manorian one shot that has all my usual tropes. I have a long standing head canon that Manon secretly watches Dorian a lot. She thinks it’s just out of curiosity since he’s a human. And that’s part of it, but there’s a bit more 😏. Also, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about all the first times they didn’t get in the books. So here are some, thrown into one fic.

Thanks to @mrstrafalgardshanks (for sparking some parts of this fic) and @itach-i (for her beta reading and constant manorian trashiness)! ❤️❤️

***

The heavy rain darkened the red of her cloak, turning it into a deep wine color. This was lucky, Manon thought. The cloak was the best way to hide her white braid and allow her the freedom to sneak in without being seen. A group of merchants sped by, heading for the castle entrance, and she jogged to catch up with them. The guard waved them in out of the weather, not looking twice as she pretended to be with them.

She’d never been in the castle. At least, not this part. She’d watched his balcony for hours that one night so long ago. Then she’d seen his bedroom. After it was destroyed by that Yellowlegs bitch. Manon grinned, remembering how Abraxos had disposed of the witch’s wyvern with one snap of his ironteeth. She’d never been able to feel remorse over that. Not when Dorian had been so close to his end.

They’d written, but this would be the first time seeing each other since the war. Manon had decided on a whim to come, and here she was. The sleepless nights had caught up so quickly. Meetings with her council passed without much input from their queen, and she’d begun to forget things. When Petrah offered to oversee the Wastes, to give Manon a break, she hadn’t argued. If nothing else, her kingdom deserved a queen who could remember the orders she’d given. A few days away might bring her back to herself.

Watching Rifthold’s people filter through the entrance hall into the throne room, she peered through her hood at the faces. The nobility and upper classes wore the usual pinched expressions of wealth and privilege, making her wonder how closely they’d allied themselves with Erawan to survive the war with their riches intact. The thought made her cheeks heat in rage.

The others, civilians wearing dingier clothing and awed looks at their surroundings, had suffered. These were the residents left homeless by the witches and valg king. Conscripted into Erawan’s monster army, set free by Southern Continent healers, and likely left with no memory of those months. If they were lucky. It struck her how difficult his job as king would be in the coming years.

As Manon skirted around the walls, she remembered Dorian’s most recent letter. He’d written about the nightmares he’d been having, images of pain and hell inflicted by his own hands. Images of those hands morphing into his father’s.

Perhaps that was why she hadn’t argued with Petrah. It made a good excuse to come here. To check on a friend.

A loud, vivacious laugh caught her ear and she saw Yrene across the crowd. Quickly, Manon pulled her hood a little tighter, hoping the material was still dark enough to blend in.

The line to speak to the King was long and enough people had come simply to watch that Manon was able to get into the throne room unseen. Taking a spot in the back corner, she resisted the urge to stand on something in order to actually see the throne.

She didn’t know why she was sneaking. It felt ridiculous. Childish.

But the thought of having planned a visit, or being received as the Witch Queen, with all the pomp and attention it required, made her skin itch. She’d considered waiting for him in his rooms and surprising him. But after sending Abraxos away to hunt at the city wall when they’d arrived, she’d heard about the Audience with the King happening that day. It would be boring, of course, watching Adarlanians petition Dorian for things or settle disputes. But her curiosity had been piqued. As a queen, she’d wondered how his court was run and thought this might be a good learning experience.

She hadn’t really thought it through though. It was impossible to hear and she could not get a clear view of him no matter how high she stood on her toes. There were simply too many people.

About to give up and go find a way into his rooms, Manon pushed through the people in front of her. Suddenly, and for just a moment, there was a break in the crowd.

Dorian was sitting at a table, Chaol next to him along with others. Advisors, she guessed. The throne sat empty behind him. A couple was speaking to him, gesturing wildly to a snarling merchant. Dorian wrote quickly while the others at the table listened.

When he finally looked up, she got her first sight of his face in months.

His black hair had grown, curling around his crown. But other than that, he looked the same - bronze skin, a quick smile, and sparkling blue eyes. Even from this distance, the sunlight caught his eyes.

But no, she realized, as something else sparkled too. He was different.

His crown.

She’d never seen him with it on.

It was a thick band of gold with three large stones, rubies, set along the front. Simple, but well crafted. There were designs incised along the band but she couldn’t make out the detail.

He looked like a king.

Her king.

The break filled in again and she was shuffled aside, back against the wall. Growling under her breath at the rudeness, she regretted being disguised and almost reached for a dagger.

As she turned to leave, that thought - her king - fluttered into her mind again. But she pushed it away and focused on the shove by the crowd, letting her annoyance take over as she left the castle.

…

Dorian closed his door and sagged against it, exhausted by the day and so many people. This was the fourth audience held in Rifthold since the war. After the first one, he’d called for a table and abandoned his throne, wanting to actually get something accomplished. He’d started the practice with the hopes of letting his people see him, speak to him. Trust him. And while that seemed to be happening, albeit very slowly, a part of him was regretting it.

It was the same part that longed for the adventures and romance that he read about in his novels. The part that wanted to be a normal man, anonymous and irresponsible.

But that part was small enough that he could tuck it away and forget about it.

Not the longing for romance though. Golden eyes, moon white hair, a fleeting smile given only to him. That was something Dorian refused to forget, even if it might not ever happen.

We’ll see.

Those two words spoken with that not-quite-there smile. Manon had looked at him, smiled at him, when she said them. The hope she’d sparked that day still filled him. Especially on nights like this when he was dead tired yet afraid to try and fall asleep.

Pulling himself away from the door, he strode through his outer rooms into the bedroom. Dorian glanced at his desk and thought about writing to her. But he’d just sent a letter last week. He should at least wait for a reply. With a laugh at himself, he thought he should try to maintain some semblance of control.

Grabbing a glass, he poured himself some wine and stared at the mess around his desk. Piles of books, papers, even some containers of soil that were given to him by a farmer at the last audience day. The man insisted his additions to the soil would improve crops across the kingdom. Dorian kicked at one, telling himself he needed to look into the claim.

After draining his wine, Dorian put the glass atop a stack of novels and reached for his crown.

“Leave it on.”

Dorian spun, his magic noticeably not flaring to defend him.

Manon sat on his bed, back against the headboard, her bare feet crossed, a book open in her lap.

As he stared at her, trying to decide if she was real or a figment of his imagination, she stood and walked toward him.

Her eyes, glowing in the light of the fire, caught on his crown. “It looks good on you,” she said.

Real. Her scent, her presence, her voice filled him.

“Hello witchling.”

Manon smiled then. A true smile. For him.

“Hello princeling.”

She reached for his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Dorian watched, using every bit of self control he had to let her undress him. It struck him that they’d never done this before. Every other time had been hurried, either to avoid the cold or to pretend there was nothing between them. Hell, they’d never even used a real bed.

So he let her slowly unbutton his shirt, let her remove her leathers, enjoying the show she made of it, his eyes drinking her in, her eyes never leaving his.

And when she led him to his bed, he kept his crown on.

…

The next morning, Dorian woke early to send two messages - one to Chaol canceling all his meetings that day, and one to the kitchens for enough food to last until tomorrow. Then he returned to bed, where Manon still slept.

Later, when they were enjoying a very late breakfast in in bed, he caught her smiling. “Is something funny?” he asked lightly.

Manon bit into a piece of bacon and looked around the room. He followed her gaze but saw nothing amusing.

“I’ve never spent a day lazing around in bed,” she finally replied. “Unless I was injured. I suppose with all your many lovers, this is nothing new for you.” She was teasing him, but he responded seriously.

“You’ve never done this? Never wanted to stay with someone after?” He saw the answer in her face, the way her smile faded. Pushing the tray of food away, he pulled her onto him, her legs straddling his waist. “Ask me who I will do this for now,” he demanded.

Manon said nothing, but the heavy rise and fall of her chest gave away her excitement.

Dorian kissed her, using his magic to pin her hands behind her back and yank her closer while his real hands tangled in her hair. Her teeth scraped over his lip and he moaned.

“Ask me.” His voice was rough and commanding as he freed her mouth to speak.

Barely a whisper, she said, “Who.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, letting her squirm in his lap as his magic caressed other spots. When she groaned, a mix of pleasure and annoyance, he said, “Just you, witchling. No one else.”

…

Manon was so close to the edge, driven there by his lips and phantom touch and the sharp demand in his voice. But those words pulled her back. The promise, the declaration of … something … something they couldn’t say. Yet.

The thought of that yet made her soften in his arms. He felt it and dropped his forehead to rest on hers. “Just you, princeling.” She saw his smile, his relief.

That promise, that declaration in her words cracked a barrier inside her. Slowly, tentatively, she cupped his cheek and said, “Tell me about your nightmares.”

Dorian’s eyes flashed, either from her touch or the question. But instead of answering, he ran a knuckle under both of her eyes. “Will you tell me about yours?”

Manon nodded.

Then he kissed her, so softly and tenderly, it could have been her first kiss. It took her a moment to open her eyes and when she did, Dorian was smiling at her. She couldn’t help but return it, and soon they were laughing, at what, she didn’t know. But it felt good. Right.

They spent the rest of that day and night in and out of bed, never leaving his rooms.

Dorian taught her how to luxuriate in a hot bath, kept warm by his magic. Manon taught him how to properly sharpen the dagger Sorrel had given him a lifetime ago. He showed her the symbols on his crown, which was heavier than she’d expected.

They spoke of their nightmares, of how last night was the first time either had slept, truly slept, in forever. They shared their worries of ruling, each boosting the resolve of the other.

The next day, they had breakfast with Chaol and Yrene. Their baby stared at Manon, making her fidget in her chair despite Yrene’s reassurances that Josie was always like this with new people. Everyone watched, Chaol nervously and Dorian amused, as Yrene sat the babe in Manon’s lap.

Manon held her carefully, not wanting to drop her. Josie reached for Manon’s braid and tugged on it playfully. When she cooed, everyone laughed. That was when she realized she’d never held a baby before. She wondered how different her life, the world, everything, would be if Asterin’s witchling had lived.

Sensing the change in her mood, Dorian reached over and took Josie, distracting them all by bouncing her on his knee until she broke into a fit of giggles. Manon caught his eye and he winked at her.

A day later, Manon said goodbye to her new friends. And Dorian. It was harder to leave this time than it had been in Orynth. He walked with her to the city wall where she’d find Abraxos. They were both hooded and cloaked to avoid stares. And he held her hand - another first, and probably not the last - as he led her through streets and alleyways.

But she would return. And he would visit her. Soon. Because they’d both agreed, though not with words, that this time together had been important. They needed each other. And while she didn’t understand the full implications of that, yet, she knew it felt right. He felt right.

Her king, and his queen.

***

Thanks for reading!

Fanfic master list

And to the anon/s who sent a few requests a while back, thanks for your patience! I’ll try to get to those soon. 🤗

[cintasfics]

Blue eyes and the tie to match

pairing: carlton lassiter x oc

wc: 551

summary: a case involving models and a fashion designer causes some changes to occur within the group style-wise, and marley can’t help but voice her appreciation

warnings: none

a/n: a quick little piece based on 02x15 where shawn and gus go undercover as male models. juliet was looking fine in her new clothes and I thought lassiter looked so cute in his new tie! though I have to say that I’m a proud member of the striped tie gang, they’re probably my favourite on him.

The trio made their way into the station, on their way to inform the chief of the plagiarised designs and newly uncovered motive, but they were frozen in place as Juliet crossed their path in her eye-catching new outfit. Joined in the hallway by Lassiter, they all took a moment to take her in, admiring her hair free from its usual up-do, her cinched waist, and the open-toed heels adorning her feet. They all shared a look of awe before following after her.

‘What happened to you?’ the chief was similarly stunned by the detective’s new appearance.

‘I am a woman, chief. And I am choosing to dress like one,’ came Juliets proud response, the outfit and her friend’s reactions giving her ego a boost.

‘You can say that again,’ Marley’s whistle of appreciation earned her a wink and a flick of the hair.

‘You can’t do that, O’Hara,’ protested Lassiter, not used to seeing his partner so glammed up.

‘I paid for it myself. I was feeling good about myself, it was my lunch break and… Carlton, is that a new tie?’

Not wanting to admit that the heartbroken model’s critical appraisal of his clothes got to him, he rebuked her observation with a quick ‘don’t be ridiculous.’

~}i{~

As the group made their way to the cars out front, set on paying Emily Bloom a visit, Marley fell into step beside Lassiter.

‘I like your new tie, by the way.’

‘Oh, uh, thanks.’

‘It really stands out against the grey of your suit, plus it brings out your eyes.’

Taken aback by her unexpected compliment, he stumbled over his words, ‘my eyes- you like-.’

His heart was already beating faster than normal from her words and the shy smile directed his way, but Shawn’s hand suddenly landing on his shoulder made it feel like it was about to jump out of his chest.

‘Hey Marls, I can’t deal with Gus’ lavender scented everything anymore, so I’m gonna ride with Lassie and Jules to save myself the headache.’

‘What? That’s not fair! If I have to suffer through it then so do you,’ her own timidness from working up the courage to comment on Lassiter’s new tie was quickly forgotten in favour of arguing with Shawn.

‘I’ve suffered enough dealing with Fabio over there as well as my dad’s ‘relationship’ issues all alone while trying to crack this case, while you’ve been off galivanting doing god knows what, so I deserve this small bit of respite.’

‘Galivanting? I’ve been working, Shawn!’

Lassiter shrugged Shawn’s hand off his shoulder as he and Marley continued to fight over who would ride in what car, his heart rate slowly returning to its normal rhythm.

It wasn’t often that Lassiter received compliments, not sincere ones at least, and certainly not about his appearance. Most compliments he received these days were almost entirely to do with his work, so the fact that Marley had taken the time to comment on his tie (as well as his eyes), made him feel… warm inside? The feeling was so unfamiliar at this point that he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it.

All he knew, as he watched the woman walking away as she argued with her friend, was that he would be wearing blue ties more often.

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

Tangled Destinys

I accidentally posted this on the wrong blog apparently

Chapter two~ I wanna contribute to the chaos

Chapter summary~ The boys discuss Adira's true intentions, and realize she is as clueless as they are.

Chapter title from Twin Size Mattress by The Front Bottoms

I sat in the dining room of the boys home, their intense glances piercing my soul. I thought back to the events which brought me here. I was supposed to be killing these men, now they- or at least one of them- were giving me a new home. None of the others seemed extremely happy about it, Sam asking Damien if he was crazy when he offered. The others' looks showed that they agreed with Sam, but Damien gave the group a look, receiving a hesitant nod from James. I denied the offer at first, knowing my presence would only bring more issues and commotion. Damien argued that with other options considered, he was more than willing to fight off other demon hunters. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was so dead set on saving me from my fate, but I was extremely grateful for his kindness. James made me promise that I would help fight any intruders, since it would be me who attracted them, and that promise was instantly given. Matthew and Erik were indifferent, not being rude to me but understandably lacking any trust in me. Damien was very kind to me, telling me that it would be okay, and before anyone could question him he was shaking his head. Sam didn’t speak to me, glaring at his food as if it were the one who attacked him while James just glared at me, his glare so intense that I could feel the tension it brought in my shoulders. I promised to help with chores, but informed them getting a job may be difficult as I lack a highschool diploma. James reluctantly agreed to use his magic to forge records of my existence, as there were little to none. 

After we ate quietly, Damien led me to my new room. It was plain, the furniture mostly consisting of off white frames and some decor. Once we were in the room, Damien lended me a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “I’m sure Erik will be willing to take you shopping tomorrow.” I could tell by his tone that he was not sure, but dropped it.

“Thank you, truly.” my smile faltered as I sighed, rubbing my arm. “But why the hell are you letting me stay?”

He smiled softly, sadness in his eyes. “You can’t help who your family is. I can tell you have a good heart.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to take in his statement. “Damien, I was sent to kill you.” I said, my tone slightly harsh.

He just nodded. “But you didn’t. And I know how hard you fought to save us. You put your morals before your life, something most people are unwilling or incapable of doing.”

I didn’t respond, my eyes moving down to the tattoo on my wrist. It was simple, a small circle around indescribable symbols. To a typical human, it was no different than any other tattoo, but any being involved in some magic could recognize the mark of a hunter. It was placed right on the vain of my arm, meant to prove one's dedication to their job. I shuddered at the memory, being strapped down to the table. I was young, no older than 5 when my mom decided it was time to mark me. She did the tattoo herself, since no sensible tattoo artist would even consider tattooing a child. She ridiculed me when I screamed and cried at the pain, calling me weak and other names. If you're going to be a hunter, you need to handle a small needle. She would tell me, rolling her eyes and laughing when I asked her to stop.

Damien must have heard my thoughts, because suddenly his hand was on my shoulder catching my attention. “You should sleep. Don’t worry about the others, they’ll come around.” He said quietly before walking out, leaving me alone in my room.

I walked over to the mirror, staring at my features. I had almost black hair which came down to my shoulder, and freckles across my nose and cheeks which were enhanced thanks to the sun this time of year. The entire day made no sense, but I was too tired to truly examine the situation. I changed into the clothes Damien brought and climbed into the extremely comfortable bed, letting much needed sleep take over my body.

- - -

The incubi were all gathered in the dining room, per the request of James. Damien sat quietly, preparing himself for the questioning regarding the young woman who slept upstairs. Once everyone was seated, James led the conversation as normal. “We need to discuss everything that has happened today.”

Sam snorted, obviously unamused. “That’s one way to put it. The hell are we doing sheltering a demon hunter?”

Damien shook his head. “She isn’t like the others. I wouldn’t have offered to let her stay with us had she been.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “You need to be more specific than that, Damien. She has the mark of one and attacked us.”

Damien took a deep breath, taking in the overwhelming amount of questions in his brother's minds. They all varied significantly, Matthews being hopeful while Sam’s were murderous. “Her family has raised her to be the ultimate demon hunter, teaching her magic from a young age while sheltering her from the world. She didn’t even have communication with those outside her family until she was in her teens.” 

Sam furrowed his brows. “So what? She still tried to fucking kill us. I mean it sucks that she was brainwashed into thinking that was okay, but you can’t expect us to change her mind.”

James cringed. “Sam, please watch your language.”

“I mean, he has a point.” Matthew spoke up, defending his brother. 

Damien shook his head. “She doesn’t think it’s okay, and she didn’t try to kill us.”

“Did you forget what happened earlier, or did you hit your head when she used magic to knock us all on our asses?” Sam yelled, pissed at Damien for trying to defend her.

Damien closed his eyes. “I remember, but her intent wasn’t to kill us. She was sent to kill us, yes, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Adira actually tried to refuse multiple times, but she was told that if she didn’t do it, her mother would kill her and us. She told her the assignment was given by angels, but Adira was never fully convinced. When she arrived, she planned to make us angry enough to kill her. We would be aware of the danger of other hunters in the area, and she wouldn’t have to die at the hands of her own mother. Her training was intensive, and I believe if she truly was intending to kill, one of us would have died at the very least. She knows less about the world than we do, without even realizing it.”

Damien attempted to block out the sudden increase in volume of thoughts. Guilt, sorrow, confusion and anger filled his brother's minds. “Angels wouldn’t have sent her, we haven’t communicated with humans about our powers since arriving.” James said matter of factly.

Matthew frowned. “Why would her mother lie about that?”

Damien shrugged. “She doesn’t honestly know, she just knows her mother has always had some resentment towards demons, specifically incubi and succubi.”

After a few moments of silence, James spoke. “She was going to sacrifice her life for us, so we will treat her with kindness and respect. That being said, be careful. Her mother will likely come for her soon or will begin to watch from afar. If in the unlikely chance angels are involved, we must be extra careful in our interactions with other humans.”

James could relate with Adira being trained to be someone you didn’t want to be. He was pretty sure Damien was right about her intentions, but still wanted to be cautious. “And do not, under any circumstances, give her your demon name. We could be wrong about her intentions.” He said sternly, and everyone quickly agreed.

“Well, if that's all, we should get some rest.” Erik said, standing from his chair. 

- - -

I groaned as the sun began to shine through the window, infuriatingly on my face. The feeling of unfamiliar sheets jolted me awake, but then the events from the day before flooded  my mind. God, I’m an idiot. Now my mom is going to come after them too. Realistically, I knew my mom couldn’t kill any of them. Her potential in magic and her energy levels were high, but her ability to apply that to combat was little to none. She was, however, efficient in a form of enthrallment. Technically, only demons were supposed to be able to use that strong of mind manipulation. Because my mom is human and has this ability, angels snatched her up immediately. She didn’t live up to her potential, and she became obsessed with me being what she was supposed to be. If she trained me, and I became efficient, then it proved to the angels how incredible and talented she was. 

As I rose from my bed, I heard a small knock on the door. When I opened it, Damien was standing there with his kind and warm smile. “Goodmorning.”

I smiled back. “G’morning.” I moved over, giving him room to walk in. “I’d give you back your clothes, but I don’t really have any others.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Erik will be taking you shopping in a few hours. You can wear those until then. Some humans wear pajamas to the store, so it should be fine.” He said, looking around the room slightly before turning his gaze back to me. “Breakfast will be ready if you’re hungry.”

We walked into the dining room, the mood being significantly lighter than the night before. Maybe Damien was right, they aren’t glaring at me today. Sam and Erik were sitting at the table while Matthew and James were walking back from the kitchen with lots of breakfast food. “Goodmorning, Miss.” James greeted me.

“Goodmorning.” I smiled at him, sitting down with Damien following me. 

“Well, did Damien tell you of our plans today?” Erik asked, and it was only now that I heard a seductive glint from his tone.

I nodded, smiling. “I really appreciate it. I know yesterday was…I really appreciate you letting me stay.”

Erik waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful.” I began to blush furiously, until James cleared his throat and shook his head at Erik.

Eventually, we all ate breakfast and the food was incredible. They made sure I was included, and all of them, with Sam being the exception, went out of their way to include me. Eventually though, my mother became the topic of conversation.

“Miss, we must know how strong your mother is.” James said. “We need to know how capable of defending ourselves without energy we are.”

I sighed. “Honestly? It depends. She has more energy and magic than some demons, but she isn’t great at using it. You're all more than capable of defending yourselves against her, and I am willing to give my energy when needed.”

James shook his head. “That is a generous offer, but I assure you that likely won’t be an issue.” 

I smiled at him. “I know. Just putting it out there. There is one thing though.”

The boys all looked at me expectantly as I took a deep breath. “My mother has an ability only found in demons. She can use mind control, it isn’t great and can easily be fought off if expected, but no one expects a human to use enthrallment.”

James furrowed his eyebrows and Damien nodded, likely confirming that I was telling the truth. I frowned a bit, knowing that it would be awhile before any of them trusted me. I probably wouldn’t be here long enough for that anyway. After a minute of unnerving silence, Sam shrugged. “We can take her, easily.”

I smiled and nodded, but a slight pain in my heart formed at the idea of my mother being killed. I quickly pushed down the feeling as we all finished our food. 

A few hours later, I was sitting in the backseat of a minivan. Erik and Sam were sat up front. The others had work, so it was just the 3 of us. 

“We will make sure you have everything you need, Princess.” I blushed at the pet name, knowing it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Um, th-thanks.” I managed to stutter out, Erik chuckled in response.

A few hours went by, and I was now sitting in the back seat of a minivan. Erik insisted Sam come along, saying he needed to get out of the house and that he should come in the event they needed to defend from Malix, a devil who has been hunting them since arriving in town. I played with my hands, listening to the classical music Erik had turned on the radio. That was until it suddenly changed to a rock station.

“Sam? What are you doing?” Erik asked, extremely annoyed.

“That shit was BORING. You made me come, I get to pick the music.” Sam retorted.

They continued to bicker before Erik sighed and relented, making Sam flash a toothy grin. I laughed quietly at their antics. “What’s so funny, princess?” Erik asked, looking at me in the window.

I blushed lightly, embarrassed. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was an only child so I’m not used to seeing siblings argue.”

“Do you have any other family, cousins perhaps?” He asked, curiously.

I sighed. “No, not that I know of. My mom lost all of her memories before I was born and was taken in by angels, so if I did I’d never know.”

Erik nodded, and I could tell he was curious but didn’t pry further which I was thankful for.

Shopping was interesting and slightly overwhelming. Erik helped me pick out some clothes while Sam just stood there, awkwardly following us. Erik also bought me shampoo, toothpaste, and other necessities which I was thankful for. I started to realize how little I know about my surroundings, despite being in my twenties. It was my first time being in the mall, and I was slightly comforted by learning the boys didn’t know everything yet either. 

When we were walking back to the van, I suddenly felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. “Something’s here.” I said, freezing.

Erik and Sam both became alert, looking around. “What do you feel?” Erik asked, his voice a few pitches higher then he likely meant.

I closed my eyes trying to pick apart the sensations and energies before focusing on one. My eyes shot open. “A devil.”

Sam tensed his fists, preparing to fight when Erik stopped him. “Don’t be ridiculous Sam. We haven’t fed in weeks. Let's go back.” 

Sam glared at his brothers. “And let them follow us? The protection spell only lasts so long now that Harolds dead.”

“I should be able to recast it.” I offered, only slightly worried I may be overstepping my boundaries.

Eventually, Sam got back into the Van with us following. His rage energy was practically bouncing off the walls of the vehicle, and no one spoke in the fear of provoking him. Erik drove above the speed limit, quickly getting us back to the mansion.

[notmine213]

Tangled Destinies

Chapter two~ I wanna contribute to the chaos

Chapter summary~ The boys discuss Adira's true intentions, and realize she is as clueless as they are.

Chapter title from Twin Size Mattress by The Front Bottoms

I sat in the dining room of the boys home, their intense glances piercing my soul. I thought back to the events which brought me here. I was supposed to be killing these men, now they- or at least one of them- were giving me a new home. None of the others seemed extremely happy about it, Sam asking Damien if he was crazy when he offered. The others' looks showed that they agreed with Sam, but Damien gave the group a look, receiving a hesitant nod from James. I denied the offer at first, knowing my presence would only bring more issues and commotion. Damien argued that with other options considered, he was more than willing to fight off other demon hunters. I wasn’t entirely sure why he was so dead set on saving me from my fate, but I was extremely grateful for his kindness. James made me promise that I would help fight any intruders, since it would be me who attracted them, and that promise was instantly given. Matthew and Erik were indifferent, not being rude to me but understandably lacking any trust in me. Damien was very kind to me, telling me that it would be okay, and before anyone could question him he was shaking his head. Sam didn’t speak to me, glaring at his food as if it were the one who attacked him while James just glared at me, his glare so intense that I could feel the tension it brought in my shoulders. I promised to help with chores, but informed them getting a job may be difficult as I lack a highschool diploma. James reluctantly agreed to use his magic to forge records of my existence, as there were little to none. 

After we ate quietly, Damien led me to my new room. It was plain, the furniture mostly consisting of off white frames and some decor. Once we were in the room, Damien lended me a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. “I’m sure Erik will be willing to take you shopping tomorrow.” I could tell by his tone that he was not sure, but dropped it.

“Thank you, truly.” my smile faltered as I sighed, rubbing my arm. “But why the hell are you letting me stay?”

He smiled softly, sadness in his eyes. “You can’t help who your family is. I can tell you have a good heart.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to take in his statement. “Damien, I was sent to kill you.” I said, my tone slightly harsh.

He just nodded. “But you didn’t. And I know how hard you fought to save us. You put your morals before your life, something most people are unwilling or incapable of doing.”

I didn’t respond, my eyes moving down to the tattoo on my wrist. It was simple, a small circle around indescribable symbols. To a typical human, it was no different than any other tattoo, but any being involved in some magic could recognize the mark of a hunter. It was placed right on the vain of my arm, meant to prove one's dedication to their job. I shuddered at the memory, being strapped down to the table. I was young, no older than 5 when my mom decided it was time to mark me. She did the tattoo herself, since no sensible tattoo artist would even consider tattooing a child. She ridiculed me when I screamed and cried at the pain, calling me weak and other names. If you're going to be a hunter, you need to handle a small needle. She would tell me, rolling her eyes and laughing when I asked her to stop.

Damien must have heard my thoughts, because suddenly his hand was on my shoulder catching my attention. “You should sleep. Don’t worry about the others, they’ll come around.” He said quietly before walking out, leaving me alone in my room.

I walked over to the mirror, staring at my features. I had almost black hair which came down to my shoulder, and freckles across my nose and cheeks which were enhanced thanks to the sun this time of year. The entire day made no sense, but I was too tired to truly examine the situation. I changed into the clothes Damien brought and climbed into the extremely comfortable bed, letting much needed sleep take over my body.

- - -

The incubi were all gathered in the dining room, per the request of James. Damien sat quietly, preparing himself for the questioning regarding the young woman who slept upstairs. Once everyone was seated, James led the conversation as normal. “We need to discuss everything that has happened today.”

Sam snorted, obviously unamused. “That’s one way to put it. The hell are we doing sheltering a demon hunter?”

Damien shook his head. “She isn’t like the others. I wouldn’t have offered to let her stay with us had she been.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “You need to be more specific than that, Damien. She has the mark of one and attacked us.”

Damien took a deep breath, taking in the overwhelming amount of questions in his brother's minds. They all varied significantly, Matthews being hopeful while Sam’s were murderous. “Her family has raised her to be the ultimate demon hunter, teaching her magic from a young age while sheltering her from the world. She didn’t even have communication with those outside her family until she was in her teens.” 

Sam furrowed his brows. “So what? She still tried to fucking kill us. I mean it sucks that she was brainwashed into thinking that was okay, but you can’t expect us to change her mind.”

James cringed. “Sam, please watch your language.”

“I mean, he has a point.” Matthew spoke up, defending his brother. 

Damien shook his head. “She doesn’t think it’s okay, and she didn’t try to kill us.”

“Did you forget what happened earlier, or did you hit your head when she used magic to knock us all on our asses?” Sam yelled, pissed at Damien for trying to defend her.

Damien closed his eyes. “I remember, but her intent wasn’t to kill us. She was sent to kill us, yes, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Adira actually tried to refuse multiple times, but she was told that if she didn’t do it, her mother would kill her and us. She told her the assignment was given by angels, but Adira was never fully convinced. When she arrived, she planned to make us angry enough to kill her. We would be aware of the danger of other hunters in the area, and she wouldn’t have to die at the hands of her own mother. Her training was intensive, and I believe if she truly was intending to kill, one of us would have died at the very least. She knows less about the world than we do, without even realizing it.”

Damien attempted to block out the sudden increase in volume of thoughts. Guilt, sorrow, confusion and anger filled his brother's minds. “Angels wouldn’t have sent her, we haven’t communicated with humans about our powers since arriving.” James said matter of factly.

Matthew frowned. “Why would her mother lie about that?”

Damien shrugged. “She doesn’t honestly know, she just knows her mother has always had some resentment towards demons, specifically incubi and succubi.”

After a few moments of silence, James spoke. “She was going to sacrifice her life for us, so we will treat her with kindness and respect. That being said, be careful. Her mother will likely come for her soon or will begin to watch from afar. If in the unlikely chance angels are involved, we must be extra careful in our interactions with other humans.”

James could relate with Adira being trained to be someone you didn’t want to be. He was pretty sure Damien was right about her intentions, but still wanted to be cautious. “And do not, under any circumstances, give her your demon name. We could be wrong about her intentions.” He said sternly, and everyone quickly agreed.

“Well, if that's all, we should get some rest.” Erik said, standing from his chair. 

- - -

I groaned as the sun began to shine through the window, infuriatingly on my face. The feeling of unfamiliar sheets jolted me awake, but then the events from the day before flooded  my mind. God, I’m an idiot. Now my mom is going to come after them too. Realistically, I knew my mom couldn’t kill any of them. Her potential in magic and her energy levels were high, but her ability to apply that to combat was little to none. She was, however, efficient in a form of enthrallment. Technically, only demons were supposed to be able to use that strong of mind manipulation. Because my mom is human and has this ability, angels snatched her up immediately. She didn’t live up to her potential, and she became obsessed with me being what she was supposed to be. If she trained me, and I became efficient, then it proved to the angels how incredible and talented she was. 

As I rose from my bed, I heard a small knock on the door. When I opened it, Damien was standing there with his kind and warm smile. “Goodmorning.”

I smiled back. “G’morning.” I moved over, giving him room to walk in. “I’d give you back your clothes, but I don’t really have any others.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Erik will be taking you shopping in a few hours. You can wear those until then. Some humans wear pajamas to the store, so it should be fine.” He said, looking around the room slightly before turning his gaze back to me. “Breakfast will be ready if you’re hungry.”

We walked into the dining room, the mood being significantly lighter than the night before. Maybe Damien was right, they aren’t glaring at me today. Sam and Erik were sitting at the table while Matthew and James were walking back from the kitchen with lots of breakfast food. “Goodmorning, Miss.” James greeted me.

“Goodmorning.” I smiled at him, sitting down with Damien following me. 

“Well, did Damien tell you of our plans today?” Erik asked, and it was only now that I heard a seductive glint from his tone.

I nodded, smiling. “I really appreciate it. I know yesterday was…I really appreciate you letting me stay.”

Erik waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful.” I began to blush furiously, until James cleared his throat and shook his head at Erik.

Eventually, we all ate breakfast and the food was incredible. They made sure I was included, and all of them, with Sam being the exception, went out of their way to include me. Eventually though, my mother became the topic of conversation.

“Miss, we must know how strong your mother is.” James said. “We need to know how capable of defending ourselves without energy we are.”

I sighed. “Honestly? It depends. She has more energy and magic than some demons, but she isn’t great at using it. You're all more than capable of defending yourselves against her, and I am willing to give my energy when needed.”

James shook his head. “That is a generous offer, but I assure you that likely won’t be an issue.” 

I smiled at him. “I know. Just putting it out there. There is one thing though.”

The boys all looked at me expectantly as I took a deep breath. “My mother has an ability only found in demons. She can use mind control, it isn’t great and can easily be fought off if expected, but no one expects a human to use enthrallment.”

James furrowed his eyebrows and Damien nodded, likely confirming that I was telling the truth. I frowned a bit, knowing that it would be awhile before any of them trusted me. I probably wouldn’t be here long enough for that anyway. After a minute of unnerving silence, Sam shrugged. “We can take her, easily.”

I smiled and nodded, but a slight pain in my heart formed at the idea of my mother being killed. I quickly pushed down the feeling as we all finished our food. 

A few hours later, I was sitting in the backseat of a minivan. Erik and Sam were sat up front. The others had work, so it was just the 3 of us. 

“We will make sure you have everything you need, Princess.” I blushed at the pet name, knowing it couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Um, th-thanks.” I managed to stutter out, Erik chuckled in response.

A few hours went by, and I was now sitting in the back seat of a minivan. Erik insisted Sam come along, saying he needed to get out of the house and that he should come in the event they needed to defend from Malix, a devil who has been hunting them since arriving in town. I played with my hands, listening to the classical music Erik had turned on the radio. That was until it suddenly changed to a rock station.

“Sam? What are you doing?” Erik asked, extremely annoyed.

“That shit was BORING. You made me come, I get to pick the music.” Sam retorted.

They continued to bicker before Erik sighed and relented, making Sam flash a toothy grin. I laughed quietly at their antics. “What’s so funny, princess?” Erik asked, looking at me in the window.

I blushed lightly, embarrassed. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was an only child so I’m not used to seeing siblings argue.”

“Do you have any other family, cousins perhaps?” He asked, curiously.

I sighed. “No, not that I know of. My mom lost all of her memories before I was born and was taken in by angels, so if I did I’d never know.”

Erik nodded, and I could tell he was curious but didn’t pry further which I was thankful for.

Shopping was interesting and slightly overwhelming. Erik helped me pick out some clothes while Sam just stood there, awkwardly following us. Erik also bought me shampoo, toothpaste, and other necessities which I was thankful for. I started to realize how little I know about my surroundings, despite being in my twenties. It was my first time being in the mall, and I was slightly comforted by learning the boys didn’t know everything yet either. 

When we were walking back to the van, I suddenly felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. “Something’s here.” I said, freezing.

Erik and Sam both became alert, looking around. “What do you feel?” Erik asked, his voice a few pitches higher then he likely meant.

I closed my eyes trying to pick apart the sensations and energies before focusing on one. My eyes shot open. “A devil.”

Sam tensed his fists, preparing to fight when Erik stopped him. “Don’t be ridiculous Sam. We haven’t fed in weeks. Let's go back.” 

Sam glared at his brothers. “And let them follow us? The protection spell only lasts so long now that Harolds dead.”

“I should be able to recast it.” I offered, only slightly worried I may be overstepping my boundaries.

Eventually, Sam got back into the Van with us following. His rage energy was practically bouncing off the walls of the vehicle, and no one spoke in the fear of provoking him. Erik drove above the speed limit, quickly getting us back to the mansion.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers reaction to the reader referring to them as their boyfriend/partner to other people for the first time?

The Slashers reacting to their S/O referring to them as their Boyfriend/Girlfriend to other people for the first time:

Thomas Hewitt

It was no secret that you and Tommy were together, always by each other’s side, acting lovesick. 

Luda May wasn’t shy about voicing your relationship, already referring to you as Thomas’ partner and to Thomas as your boyfriend, she already had her mind set on a future of weddings and grandbabies. 

Her talk had always made the two of you flustered and embarrassed, neither of you really confirming her claims of your relationship.

You had been down at the gas station with Luda May and Thomas, she had asked Thomas to come to help move some crates and you had already been there to help her watch the place.

A group of travellers had pulled in, getting some gas and stocking up on snacks.

Being a friendly and trustworthy face, you were sent out to greet them and ask if they needed assistance. Thomas had been lifting another crate and had looked over to you, always protective over you, especially when it came to strangers. Eventually one of the men had commented on Tommy’s staring as he worked, scoffing to himself.

“Oh, that’s Tommy, my boyfriend. He’s just a little protective, you never know the type you might run into ‘round here” you reassured them with a smile, fully knowing that it was the Hewitt family that nobody wanted to run into around here.

Of course, Thomas overheard you, and your declaration instantly made him blush, quickly busying himself with his work again.

He’s overjoyed though, hearing you refer to him as your boyfriend, sounding so proud of him, he loved you so much and each day you convinced him that you felt the same. He also likes that these strangers know that you’re together.

Michael Myers

You were seeing some friends and Michael had gotten bored, heading out to find you and continue with his usual stalker shenanigans since he seems to enjoy stalking you when he’s bored and you’ve left him at home. He saw you talking to some of your friends, you were saying goodbye.

They had tried to get you to stay a little longer but you had smiled, telling them that you had to get home to your boyfriend. Of course they had demanded to finally meet this mysterious boyfriend but you shook your head at them before heading home, where Michael would already be when you arrived.

So, you had been referring to him as your boyfriend to your friends for a little while...he isn’t going to bring it up, he’ll act like he never heard it, like he was at home this whole time.

He won’t say anything but he ponders it for a moment, if that’s how you want to refer to him...he’s more than okay with that. Maybe more okay with it than he would admit to himself.

Jason Voorhees

You had gone on a walk through the woods and had wandered into the old camp. You hadn’t been aware of intruders but accidently stumbled upon a group of trespassers who had just arrived and where getting bags out of their car.

The group had turned to you, surprised but friendly. You, on the other hand, panicked a little, knowing you shouldn’t interact with them too much. Jason would be coming to deal with them some time soon. 

“Uh sorry...I was just looking for my boyfriend...bye!” you practically ran off, back towards the cabin, knowing that Jason would want you to be somewhere safe and out of the way. 

Jason had seen it all from his hidden spot in the trees. At first he had been worried when you stumbled upon the group, worried that you would get hurt or something.

But his heart fluttered when he heard you referring to him as your boyfriend, liking the way it sounded and how it made him feel.

You had been staying with him for a while now and the two of you had become close, certainly entering a more romantic relationship. But that was the first time you had used the title, and you had done so with so much ease.

Yes, he was your boyfriend, and he adored you.

Brahms Heelshire

You and Brahms were certainly dating, at least he definitely thought so and believed that you did too.

The delivery boy had come with your most recent grocery delivery, and you had answered the door. 

The two of you were chatting for a while, slowly irritating Brahms, who was sure that the delivery boy had a thing for you.

You had never really thought the delivery boy liked you but he was getting friendlier lately and you knew how much it bothered Brahms, so you had just casually slipped in some talk about your boyfriend (not mentioning Brahms’ name of course), just to get the point across to both of them.

The delivery boy had always been friendly and that had always made Brahms a little jealous but now that the man knows that you have a boyfriend, Brahms feel more confident that he won’t try anything and it makes him just a little less jealous.

Brahms is looking pretty smug when you close the front door and he comes to greet you, you barely have the chance to roll your eyes at him before he’s pulling you into a kiss. 

You can’t help but smile fondly at how proud and happy he seems with his new title.

Bo Sinclair

You and Bo had been getting closer, what you had definitely wasn’t ‘casual’ but neither of you had really talked about it. Bo didn’t like talking about that kind of stuff and you didn’t want to bring it up and put him in a bad mood. 

It was fine...until a group of visitors arrived in Ambrose.

It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman had flirted with Bo and he had allowed it, even flirted back to lull the strangers into a false sense of security. This would be the first time it made you jealous and you had every right to feel that way.

The flirtatious woman had laid it on fairly thick, Bo had only chuckled but hadn’t really returned the flirtations. You appreciated that but you still wished he would just tell her to stop or be a little less encouraging. You understood, you just didn’t like it.

Bo was looking at their car while you went to tell the group what was going on, telling them that ‘your boyfriend was just checking their car and should be done soon, he’s very good at his job’. You saw how the woman pulled a face at that, which satisfied you at least a little.

Bo had already been on his way over and had overheard how you had referred to him, making him smirk to him, both because of the title but also because of your jealousy. 

Now, he just had to mess with you.

He walked over, announcing that their car needed a new fan-belt as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

You knew that he was being extra obvious in front of the woman, probably more to mess with you than anything, and you knew that he was going to tease you for this later on...but at least he was showing off your relationship in front of these strangers.

Vincent Sinclair 

When visitors to Ambrose came by, Vincent would watch from a distance (especially when it came to you, just to make sure you were safe). 

He’d listen to conversation he could catch, and he was currently listening to you speaking with the group about their car that they needed help with.

“Sure, I’ll just get my boyfriend, Vincent, to go pick up your car” you told the group politely with a smile.

Vincent was taken back by how you referred to him as your boyfriend, and how you did it so causally. He wondered if you knew he was listening, that he could hear you.

Obviously the two of you had gotten very close as of late, sharing more than a couple romantic moments, but you had never brought up the topic.

It’s fair to say that Vincent is a little flustered when he next sees you but you had truly made his day, made his week even.

Lester Sinclair

You were in Ambrose when a pair of strangers walked into the garage, telling you that their car broke down and some guy gave them a lift into down, saying that his brother owned the garage. 

“I’m guessing it was my boyfriend who gave you a ride” you chuckled fondly, obviously knowing that it was Lester but keeping up some sort of act. 

“Yeah, he did” Lester beamed proudly as he walked into the garage behind the pair. 

You blushed a little, getting a little flustered by getting caught referring to him as your boyfriend, not that he seemed to mind.

When he heard the way you referred to him, it just put a huge smile on his face. He kind of knew that he was your boyfriend but this was the first time you had actually said it.

He greeted you warmly, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, still beaming. It was sweet really. If Bo had seen, he probably would have gagged.

Bubba Sawyer

The brothers had been bickering and arguing, which was nothing new. Of course, you had started to defend Bubba, since he was pretty unconfrontational.

Drayton had scoffed and complained about you defending Bubba. 

You had just responded with “well, he is my boyfriend”, without even thinking about it.

Nobody else (other than Bubba) was surprised by the word ‘boyfriend’. Just rolling their eyes at you and continuing with their bickering.

Bubba had the biggest smile on his face.

He accepts his new position as your boyfriend instantly. Yes, he is your boyfriend and he loves you so much.

He just gets a little giddy and wants to give and receive a lot of affection from you after that.

Billy Lenz 

You had been on the phone with a friend. They had invited you out for the evening but you had politely declined, telling them that you were spending the night in with your boyfriend.

Of course, Billy had been listening in on the conversation, and as soon as you referred to him as your boyfriend he was grinning like an idiot.

It was more than obvious that the two of you were in fact dating, you just hadn’t put a name on it and Billy hadn’t really thought to do so. He felt like you had just made the relationship official, but he was more giddy at the thought of other people knowing that he was your boyfriend, that you would talk about him so fondly to your friends.

As soon as you put the phone down, Billy is on you, wrapping you up in his embrace, making you giggle as you returned the gesture, wondering what had gotten into him.

“I’m your boyfriend” he stated proudly, grinning from ear to ear before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle again.

“Yes you are” you agreed fondly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

You were at Asa’s home when you got a phone call from a friend, asking if you wanted to hang out that evening but you already had plans with Asa. And that’s what you told them.

“Sorry, I’m spending the evening with my boyfriend” you told them, smiling when they complained about not having met your boyfriend yet.

As soon as you hung up, Asa appeared next to you, holding out a drink for you. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, knowing he had heard and also knowing that you hadn’t really defined your relationship like that yet.

“You could have told me” was all he really responded with as he sat down beside you. Clearly not minding the way you referred to him.

Asa isn’t an idiot, he knew that’s where your relationship was, he just hadn’t brought up the conversation yet. Now it seemed like it didn’t have too, and that was good to know.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

You had decided to visit Jesse at his office, which he had told you that you could do whenever you pleased. When you arrive and were asking for him and the location of his office, you were met by a woman who seemed pretty hostile about your presence.

You definitely didn’t want to cause any trouble at Jesse’s work but she was being rude and you were getting tired, you just wanted to visit Jesse for lunch. 

“Look, I’m just here to visit my boyfriend, I’ll just call him and let him know I’m here” you sighed, about to give up as you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

Luckily, Jesse had just been passing through the reception and had witnessed the end of your conversation. Smirking to himself when you referred to him as your boyfriend.

He approached before you could unlock your phone, tucking it away again as you smiled up at him. 

Jesse nods to the woman, placing a hand on your back before guiding you up to his office.

Once you’re alone, he will playfully question you about how you had referred to him. After messing with you a bit and making you a little flustered, he reassures you that it’s perfectly fine. He is happy to call himself your boyfriend and to call you his partner.

From then on, everyone knows who you are and that Jesse is your boyfriend. You won’t be stopped or questioned again, don’t worry.

Otis Driftwood

You and Otis had gone to a nearby bar together, just to get out of the house and have a little fun. You had wandered over to the bar without him and when Otis looked over, he saw some guy flirting with you.

Jealousy and protectiveness (maybe some possessiveness) had Otis marching over to the two of you. 

“Uh, yeah sorry, I have a boyfriend” he heard you tell the man, shifting away from him in discomfort. You glanced around and relaxed when you saw Otis approaching. “There he is!” you smiled brightly, you were quick to push yourself away from the bar and meet Otis.

He instantly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, protectively and possessively as he glared the man down.

Damn right, he’s your boyfriend. And he’ll make sure everyone here knows it.

You had never actually called him that before, never actually made whatever the two of you had official. But now you had, that’s all he had to know.

Baby Firefly

You and Baby had gone out to a bar to have a few drinks and probably cause some trouble. She was dancing even though nobody else was, just her, having a great time, as you watched on adoringly.

Some guy and come up beside you and asked who she was. 

With a grin, you had proudly exclaimed “that’s my girlfriend!” 

Of course, Baby had heard you and smiled about it to herself.

Once she finished dancing, she returned to you and the same guy moved closer, introducing himself to her and asking for her to introduce herself in return. 

“I’m their fucking girlfriend” Baby stated proudly with a grin of her own, wrapping her arms around you as if to get her point across even more.

Yautja (Predator)

Of course introducing your family or your friends to your current partner (or ‘mate’, as he would call you) wasn’t really an option at the moment. But you had mentioned that you were seeing someone.

You were on the phone to a friend when they started asking about this mysterious person you had been seeing.

So, finally you told them to give your boyfriend some privacy, the two of you laughing before ending the call.

He had been referring to you as his mate for a while now and you assumed that was the same level, if not even more serious, than the title of boyfriend, so you figured it was okay.

And your mate thought so too. He knew what ‘boyfriend’ meant since you explained human dating to him, so when he heard, he knew what you meant and it just filled him with pride, knowing that you definitely felt the same as him.

[samwisethewitch]

An Open Letter to Christian Witches

On this blog, I often champion the idea that witchcraft is a practice, not a religion, and that a witch can practice any religion, provided that religion does not explicitly forbid witchcraft. I still very much believe this, and the point of this post is not to tell Christians that they can’t be witches. However, as a non-Christian witch who has been deeply traumatized by Christianity, I do wish Christian witches would be a bit more mindful of how they show up in witchy spaces.

Recently, I’ve noticed a pattern of self-identifying Christian witches dominating the conversation and centering their own beliefs in spaces dedicated to witchcraft. Now, I wholeheartedly believe that this is unintentional, and most of these Christian witches seem like lovely people. But it’s still deeply frustrating and upsetting to be promised a safe space and support from other witches, only to be preached at.

Or be told that I’m doing witchcraft wrong because my ethics are not the same as someone else’s.

Or be told that I don’t understand Christianity, despite having spent the first two decades of my life fully immersed in it.

Or have my trauma invalidated because, “Not all Christians are like that!”

Or spend the majority of our time together reassuring and comforting a Christian witch who is uncomfortable with the inclusion of pagan and/or occult elements in a ritual.

These are all genuine experiences I have had with Christian witches in 2021. And in every single one of these situations, the Christian witch had a very negative reaction to any kind of constructive criticism or request that they be more mindful of the diverse beliefs and experiences in the space. Any suggestion that their actions may be causing discomfort for others was met with defensiveness, if not straight-up denial. The result is a situation where Christian witches are at the center of every discussion and demand (knowingly or not) coddling or hand-holding from teachers and facilitators, while those of us who are not Christian are left deeply uncomfortable but unable to express that discomfort without upsetting someone or being accused of creating conflict.

And I get it. I really do. Because for most of the people in the above scenarios, this was the first time they encountered a situation where their religion wasn’t the norm. But what I need Christian witches to recognize and be mindful of is that this discomfort of being surrounded by people who do not share your beliefs is something those of us who are not Christian experience every day.

In the Western world, and particularly in the United States, Christianity is a religious hegemony. (A hegemony is a group with total political, social, economic, and/or military dominance in a given area.) Everything in Western society was designed for Christians, to serve a Christian worldview, and to reinforce Christian hegemony. Everything from our government to our business practices to our media reinforces Christian values. For Christians, this creates the sense of comfort and security that comes from being part of the in-group. For non-Christians, it meas being constantly bombarded with someone else’s religion. For former Christians with church-related trauma, it means reliving that trauma constantly.

Here’s a look at an average day in my life as a formerly-Christian pagan with religious trauma. Please note that this is not an exaggeration — this is a description of what I experienced on the day I wrote this post.

I get up and, because I live with Christian family members, I walk past exactly five images of Jesus and/or the Virgin Mary on my way from my bedroom to the front door. On my commute to work, I drive past at least a dozen churches, including the one I used to attend, where my religious trauma occurred. I stop at a red light, and the car in front of me has a bumper sticker with an image of a cross and the message, “If this offends you now, just wait until you see it on judgement day!” I happen to know that these bumper stickers are for sale not at a local church, but at a privately owned, nominally secular business. When I get to work, the woman who greets me at the front gate is wearing a crucifix necklace.

I work in diversity education. When I get to the office, my boss asks me to join the local Interfaith council because I am the only person in our department who isn’t Christian. My current big project at work is trying to get a transgender speaker to visit our organization and help us lead a workshop to work towards amending a history of transphobia in our organization. My boss tells me today the she isn’t sure the speaker I arranged will be approved, because our administration might not think it is in line with our organization’s values. When she says this, I know she means evangelical Christian values. She doesn’t have to spell it out — there’s a chaplain down the hall from our office.

After my lunch break, my coworkers are talking about a church event one of them attended over the weekend. I do not contribute to this conversation. It has been several months since I attended an in-person religious event with people who shared my faith. As I’m leaving the office at the end of the day, I pass a Bible study group that has set up in our recreation area. On my drive home, I pass the funeral home where my grandfather’s memorial service was held earlier this year. The programs for that service had the Lord’s Prayer printed on them. My grandfather was an atheist.

This is my level of exposure to a religion I not only don’t believe in, but have been actively hurt by, on a daily basis. This is my normal. I’ve learned to live with it, tune it out, and self-soothe, because there is no other option.

When I’m finally able to be around other witches, many of them are coming from similar experiences. I am finally in a space where I can be vulnerable, where I can talk about what I really believe, and where I can receive support from like-minded people. But if there is even one Christian witch in the group, it’s highly likely that this space too will be dominated by Christian hegemony.

It’s a noted fact that a person exists within a hegemony, they have very little ability to tolerate challenges to this hegemony due to a lack of exposure. This is the origin of the term white fragility, which sociologist Robin DiAngelo uses to describe the discomfort and defensiveness white people feel when confronted with “racial discomfort” such as being asked to consider racism as a system they are complicit in and benefit from rather than as the actions of lone extremists. White fragility is something I have personally experienced as a white woman involved in antiracist work, and it’s something I have taken years to work through and am still actively working on. Since DiAngelo popularized this term, similar terms have been used to point to similar phenomena in other hegemonic groups, as in the cases of male fragility/fragile masculinity, cishet fragility, and yes, Christian fragility.

I’m not trying to argue that all hegemony is the same, and I am definitely not trying to say that my personal religious trauma is anywhere near the level of pain caused by the mistreatment of Black and brown people by white supremacist society. My point here is simply that being part of the dominant group breeds a very low tolerance for exposure to other groups.

Christian witches are members of a hegemonic group entering a space historically occupied by marginalized people, which creates an imbalance of power. (And yes, you can benefit from hegemony even if you are marginalized in other areas. Identity is multi-faceted. Queer Christians, disabled Christians, Christians of color, and yes, Christian witches still benefit from Christian hegemony.) The only way things are going to get better is if Christians are willing to do the work themselves of building tolerance for religious discomfort. The rest of us can host as many interfaith and secular events as we want, but if Christians aren’t able to tolerate the inclusion of other belief systems, we’ll never truly be on equal footing. Until Christians stop centering the Christian experience, it will continue to dominate interfaith spaces, including witchy spaces.

TLDR: I’m asking Christian witches to be mindful of the privilege they bring into interfaith spaces. I’m asking you to be willing to feel uncomfortable, and to recognize that your discomfort does not invalidate the work your facilitators have put into creating the space and/or program. If you truly can’t stand the discomfort, I’m asking you to politely excuse yourself instead of demanding emotional labor from other witches.

[rwprincess]

Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 26 - The Higher Realm

The Higher realm continues. So close to the end!

Master post linked here

Enjoy!

______________________________

Time passed, but it was difficult to tell how much. Time worked so differently in the different realms. How long did we really spend trying to save one lower realm? Minutes? Decades? It felt like no time and forever. Adonis and I traveled to lower realm after lower realm, fixing the stories, stabilizing the world before heading back to the higher realm.

Some lower realms were easy, if a bit annoying, such as the high school dramas. In those I would often play the “average” new girl at a school. I would meet new people, and was supposed to go on to have romance, betrayals and coming of age realizations. I quickly realized that befriending all my supposed romantic leads instead of dating them, reconciling with my rivals instead of humiliating them, and pushing towards success all together was a much more satisfying strategy. Fortunately, graduating valedictorian with a happy and psychologically healthy group of teenagers often stabilized worlds that had been torn apart by half-baked character design or infighting between rivals.

I took calculus so many times that I could recite lessons in my sleep, but at least the worlds were saved. Despite our success, however, Adonis was often frustrated. He had his own vision of how we were to save these realms. His plans almost always involved us dating, making the high school romance “successful”.

I refused.

He had been a lot more likable since our first meeting, and I was able to consider him a close friend and ally… but I felt uncomfortable at the idea of even pretending to have a romantic relationship. It was definitely a more difficult route to stabilize the world without a romance, but I chose it every time. Adonis pouted and complained, but couldn’t argue with success, and I was successful.

Some lower realms were more difficult. In particular, zombie apocalypse stories were my least favorites. The worlds often couldn’t be stabilized until a cure was found or humanity’s survival was assured. This meant that Adonis and I sometimes spent decades within these realms, working to build armies, or teams of scientists. There was hardly ever any running water, which meant showering was few and far between.

My unwashed self was made even filthier by my absolute failure at using anything with range. Bow and arrow, guns… anything that would keep me out of the gore, I couldn’t hit even the largest of monsters. Fortunately I picked up a sword with relative ease, which allowed me to fight… but this also meant I got covered in rotten blood and guts.

I hated zombie worlds the most.

Realm after realm. We worked constantly, spending very little time in between in the higher realms. Adonis would often try to use those moments to push his ideas regarding fate and the higher realm’s story, but as soon as I rejected him, which I did every time, he would simply scowl and pull us into the next lower realm to save.

It was getting old.

“How many lower realms are there?” I asked one evening as we recovered from our latest mission, rubbing my sore shoulder where I had taken a blow in the last sci-fi alien battle. The wounds disappeared with the realm traveling, but my mind still could feel the wound, projecting the pain long after I had left that form behind.

Adonis leaned back in his chair, his grin a little too bitter to be a natural expression. “How many unfinished stories are there? Infinite, Bel. There are infinite lower realms. We will never be able to save them all. Not like this.”

“It’s not like there’s a lot of options.”

“There are options. You just don’t want to hear them.”

“What, this fate you keep talking about?” I sighed, closing my eyes, tired. “ It sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It’s not.” His voice was quiet, but the intensity shown through all the same. “It’s our duty. Everyone’s survival depends on it.”

“But what you’re saying is: we follow along some sort of script…”

“Fate.”

“…fate… here, in the higher realm. And that is somehow supposed to fix the lower realms?”

He chuckled. “You’re oversimplifying it, but pretty much. We follow our fate, and the heroes of the lower realms will find their happiness tied to ours.”

“What if they don’t want that ending? What if they don’t want that happiness?”

“Of course they do! Everyone wants a happily ever after with their destined one.” He snapped. My eyes flickered open to study his enraged expression.

“I don’t.”

“You’re selfish!”

I shrugged. “Am I? If you’re right, we submit to fate here, everyone in the lower realms gets an automatic happy ending… but most of those worlds aren’t breaking because they don’t have a happy ending. They need a wider world, different ideas… and what about the side characters, even the villains… what about their happiness?”

“They don’t matter.”

“Why not?” I raised an eyebrow. “Just because they’re the villains?”

“They’re evil.” He stood up, trying to tower over me. An intimidation tactic, one that might have worked before we’d spent countless years fighting in life-or-death battles together.

“Have you met the heroes and heroines of some of these realms?” I laughed. “They’re not much better. I don’t think these roles are as clear as you would like them to be. And I don’t think you and I having a happy ending together, and forcing a simplistic ‘and they lived happily ever after’ on all the lower realms will actually fix them. In fact…” I stood up, and he stepped back slightly at the danger in my tone. “I bet we would break them all the more. Are you really so foolish as to think that saving a universe of worlds would be so simple?”

“…” Adonis was gritting his teeth, his hands clenched so tightly the knuckles were white. But I didn’t back down. Didn’t step back. I knew he wouldn’t hit me. He wouldn’t dare step out of the role he imagined himself to be in. Wouldn’t dare cross a line that might ruin his chances at the happy ending he seemed to crave so desperately.

“…” The silence stretched on between us. We were at an impasse. He wanted to follow fate. He wanted clearly defined roles and rules to follow. And I?

I wanted freedom.

*** Soul transfer 11% complete. ***

It’s been forever since I last saw those words… I thought it had disappeared. For some reason, I felt a deep sense of relief at the glowing blue sentence. Something within me had frozen during these many trips to the lower realms, but finally it was growing again.

“The next world is waiting.” Adonis spoke up, his tone flat. I noticed an odd shifting of his gaze, a reluctance to meet my own, and felt a sense of unease.

I won’t like this next world. I cracked my knuckles and gave him a thumbs up. Well, no sense running from a challenge.

We left.

______________________________

I woke up in a luxurious canopy bed. Staring up at the fabric , I raised my arms and have a cheer.

“YES! NOT A ZOMBIE WORLD!”

On the downside, the setting appeared to be a more primitive era, medieval at best, which meant no running water, but at least I appeared to be noble or wealthy.

At least if I suffer, I’ll be clean while I do it!

“Princess?” A young woman dressed as a servant entered the room, seeming very confused. “Are you all right? I heard you yelling.”

I smiled brightly at her. “No worries. It was just a nightmare.”

She visibly relaxed. “Even so, you seem in a much better mood, if I may say so.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you haven’t broken a single thing this morning.” She, unfortunately did not seem to be kidding. “I’m so glad you’ve accepted your father’s decision.

I didn’t have my character’s memories yet. I needed to accept the mission first. In the meantime, acting too out of character could destabilize an already poorly functional world.

“I’m still… thinking it over.” I spoke up cautiously.

“It’s not so bad, your highness.” She smiled at me. “Most young girls feel a little uneasy when their father arranges their husband. But you’ll be happy. I just know it.”

Arranged marriage?

“After all, Prince Harold is reported to be a true gentleman, a might warrior, and a handsome young man!” She sighed dreamily. “Any woman would be thrilled for a chance to be his bride.”

“I’m. Sure.” I spoke through gritted teeth, the satin sheets crumpling in my grip. Adonis, when I find you, I’m going to make you regret every life decision you’ve ever made… and the ones you’ve only considered making. What kind of lower realm did you land us in? As I plotted my revenge, the mission screen popped up.

**** NEW WORLD: A Divided Kingdom****

This is a romance fantasy story featuring a prince and a princess from different kingdoms, putting aside their differences to save the world.

“I already don’t like this.” I muttered.

The Princess Alaire of the Yenlar Kingdom was a clever, independent woman, horrified at the idea of an arranged marriage. Prince Harold of the Bestion Kingdom felt differently. He fell in love at first sight and vowed to woo the young maiden. The couple was different in almost every way, and seemed destined to bicker and fight.

“Then how about we don’t get married?”

But fate had other plans…

“Of course it did!”

A terrifying beast threatened to destroy both their kingdoms, and to survive, the political marriage had to go forward. Uniting the kingdoms, and therefore their armed forces, was the only way to save their people.

However, despite the happy ending, the first book was not well received by readers and the trilogy was abandoned due to poor sales. The reason given was that the romance was “forced” and unbelievable.

Your mission is to bring a satisfying end to the story, while making ensuring the survival of both kingdoms.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

“Quick question.” I spoke quietly to the glowing words in front of me. “Do I have to marry the prince to ensure an ending?”

The kingdoms will not unite without the political marriage.

“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked if I HAVE to marry the prince. What if I can save both kingdoms without a political marriage?”

The stability of the world is all that matters.

“No lecture on the necessity of fate?”

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION? ****

YES? NO?

I grinned. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

As the words faded away, I jumped out of bed. My head spun slightly as I accepted the memories from the poor princess of the original story.

She had not been happy.

She had dreams, ambitions. The Kingdom of Yenlar allowed for women to inherit the throne, and as the firstborn she was ready to take over from her father, to rule her nation. She had spent her entire life preparing. Studying law, economics, warfare…

And all of it had meant nothing in the end.

She had begged for a political treaty. One that did not involve marriage. The Kingdom of Bestion had refused to even discuss it. They stated that there was too much distrust between the kingdoms to move forward without some sort of permanent assurance. Even the threat of annihilation from the ancient beast of legend wasn’t enough to have them reconsider. That wasn’t the full story, though.

Later she discovered that Prince Harold had seen her at a party. He had supposedly fallen in love with her at first sight, and became determined to marry her. He had learned of her plans to marry a minor noble, one who would support her position on the throne without causing an imbalance of power within the nobility. He had no chance, as far as she was concerned. The threatened destruction of their people was just the perfect opportunity to force the matter.

She had lost all power. Becoming a figurehead, a beautiful statue beside the true king, Harold. He ruled over both nations with an iron fist, treating her own people more harshly, much to the approval of his staff. She slowly became bitter and deranged, watching the destruction of the people and the nation she loved so dearly.

Beyond the end of the first book, when the realm’s story ended, she had attempted to poison him and failed. Harold had been disappointed, but felt that she still had use as a figurehead. They faked a stroke, and kept her mute and weak with poisons. A lovely doll. A perfect figurehead.

…is this a fantasy or a horror? Sheesh, no wonder the trilogy wasn’t going to sell. I shuddered, still standing awkwardly next to the beautiful bed that had belonged to a lovely young woman.

I will change this story. I spoke silently to the memories, feeling a sense of relief that didn’t belong to me as I did so.

First, let’s try to reason with Adonis. He and I had worked together in multiple realms, side by side. We were friends. We may not see eye to eye when it came to our approach towards fate and the lower realms, but he had never forced me to do something I didn’t want. He had always respected me and backed off when I said no, even if it made him unhappy.

Hopefully this time will be the same. I thought uneasily. Hopefully he will listen.

______________________________

“No.” His tone was gleeful, but his face was calm, towing with a silver goblet rather than meeting my gaze.

“Are you joking?” I leaned forward, keeping a gentle smile on my face to fool the guards and our fathers who sat on the other end of the enormous dining table.

“I’m perfectly serious, Princess Alaire. Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to work together. We can only work together if we trust each other. The only way the Kingdom of Bestion will trust the Kingdom of Yenlar is with a marriage alliance. It’s out of my hands.”

I reached forward and took the cup from his hands, forcing him to look at me. “Why are you forcing this, Adonis? You know it didn’t work out so well for the originals.”

“Careful Princess.” His eyes glanced over at the nearby guards. “You don’t want anything to destabilize the situation further, now do you? Better to act as a proper princess should.”

“Answer the question. This plan already failed. Why do you think it will work?”

“Simple.” He leaned forward and plucked the goblet back from my hands. “We’re different. You may not want to admit it, but we have spent lifetimes at each other’s side. Growing up, going to school, facing enemies, fighting together… we could make this work. It would be a wonderful ending.”

“You know what happened to Alaire after the first book.”

“I would never do that to you.”

“But you are.” I growled, wishing I could punch him. “You are trying to make me a beautiful figurehead, just like Harold did to Alaira.”

“We would rule side by side.”

“What use is that promise, if you are already ignoring my wishes and forcing me to do this in the first place?”

He shook his head. “You have to trust me. This is the only way we can defeat the monster, and stabilize this realm. We’ll save this world. Together.” He smiled. “It’s our fate.”

I threw a plate at him, forcing him to fling himself on the floor to avoid injury. Walking out, I ignored my father’s shouts of rage. Picking up a bag I had packed ahead of time, just in case, I changed into some light armor, grabbed a sword, and headed out into the forest.

If I couldn’t win by a political alliance, I was going to find another way to save the world.

I was going monster hunting.

I searched Princess Alaira’s memories of the legends and stories, going out in a northern direction towards the area known as Death Valley.

As I marched onward, my thoughts wandered over the time I had spent since I had woken up in the Higher Realm. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Adonis. He might truly think that he was saving the world by insisting on going through with the marriage, but his lack of willingness to even consider other options was frustrating. He was the only person consistently by my side through every one of these worlds, someone I considered a friend, and being unable to rely on him served to make me feel all the lonelier.

My mind briefly touched on the assassin of the first realm, Liam. I had thought with his comments and actions that he had known about my mission… that he might be from the higher realm too. But no matter how much I looked for him, no matter how much I hoped to see him again, I never did.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was someone from the lower realm, and I’ll never have the chance to see him, to thank him.

I felt a sense of despair. How long can I keep doing this? Is this why Adonis preaches following our fate so much? Is he as tired of traveling, tired of the missions and the different lives? Is he just hoping to end all this?

I sighed, keeping moving. I’m not that tired, not tired enough to sacrifice my freedom. Not yet, anyways.

It took several days of traveling. Fortunately from my years of experience in zombie worlds, I was well prepared to survival in the wilderness. At least here the rivers were clean, allowing me to bathe occasionally. Finally I was at the entrance of the valley, staring up at the pillars on either side.

There were ominous words carved deeply into the stone.

Only death lies ahead.

I stared at the words silently for a few moments, and then shrugged.

“Still better than marrying Adonis.”

I moved forward.

______________________________

The valley was dark, a deep fog settled in permanently, apparently unaffected by the weather beyond its borders. Dark twisted purple trees rose all around me, their roots tearing through the earth desperate searching for nutrients. The valley was quiet, suffocating in an unsettling silence. My presence there felt like an intrusion, my instincts screaming at me to run away, to escape.

I kept moving.

There were no other signs of life. But I knew at least one other being lived here, the reason why nothing else dared to.

The Ancient beast.

There were no descriptions of it in the legends. Just that it was deadly, enough to take on entire armies. And that it was terrifying.

I feel like I should have seen something by now, if it was so large. I sighed, sitting on one of the trees, staring up at the mountain ahead of me. Shouldn’t it be easier to find an enormous beast that terrified an entire world?

…

Wait.

I looked up, struggling to see the top of the mountain in front of me.

I’m in a valley…

The mountain moved up and down, with regular motions.

There shouldn’t be a mountain here.

It was breathing.

I drew my sword, inwardly despairing. I had underestimated the sheer scale of the monster. I had thought it would be the size of a house, an elephant. Instead it towered stories above me, unimaginably large.

I was doomed.

There was a rumble as the beast in front of me shifted. I couldn’t tell the shape, just an impression of scales and spikes. Slowly, something lowered down in front of me, stretching forward in all directions, filling my vision. I saw teeth larger than my own body, the white of them contrasting with the dark fog around us. As I prepared myself for my death, an eye opened to stare at me.

It was a beautiful dark blue.

“…”

Suddenly, I felt relief. It was incomprehensible. I was standing in front of an ancient beast, enormous and terrifying, and instead of fear and dread… I felt safe.

I raised a hand, almost despite myself. “Hello there.”

The eye blinked. I comforted myself that it hadn’t eaten me yet.

“I think you look awesome. I’m Princess Alaira from the nearby kingdom of Yenlar. I actually came here to kill you, to protect my people… but now I realize that you could crush me like an ant, and that was a bad plan.”

The eye blinked twice. It seemed more confused than anything.

“I have a much better plan, if you would be willing to listen to me.” I let out a laugh, slightly startled at how… villainous it sounded.

*** Soul transfer 20% complete. ***

The creature let out a sound like thunder. I felt that it was laughing too.

______________________________

The wedding was this morning.

I was surprised as I drew near to see the party going. You would think that after I disappeared, they might have canceled or delayed it. I assumed that Adonis had felt sure that I would agree with him in the end. That I wouldn’t be able to let the world end just because I didn’t want to marry him.

Well too bad, buddy. This princess has a different plan in mind!

I could see him, standing on the elevated stage before two thrones, waiting. I couldn’t see his expression from this distance, but I imagine he was barely hiding his worry. Alaire’s father and Harold’s father were also waiting on the platform, their postures betraying their impatience.

“Let’s get this party started!” I yelled.

ROOOOOOOAAAAAAR!

The ancient beast let out a triumphant roar as he flew closer and lowered his head, letting me jump down onto the platform before landing behind me, a large, threatening mountain of a creature.

“Alaire?” The king called out, confused. “What are you doing?”

“Hello, Father.” I also nodded to Adonis, who stared back.

“What is this?”

“Your daughter is a witch!” The King of Bestion shouted, drawing his ceremonial sword. “She betrayed us!”

“Hold on, father.” Adonis held out his hand, stopping his attack. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

I grinned.

“Nope. It’s exactly what it looks like. I’ve teamed up with the Ancient being. We’re friends now.” I gestured at the monster high above us, who let out a grim chuckle, shaking the ground. “So now I make the rules, got it?”

“…”

“I’ll take everyone’s stunned silence as happy agreement! Now, first rule: Wedding canceled.”

“What?”

“What?”

“You can’t do this!”

The three other royals on stage shouted simultaneously. I simply pointed again at the enormous creature.

“I can do whatever I want. The big scary monster behind me says so. Next, the kingdom of Bestion will surrender to me, as will the kingdom of Yenlar.”

“You want to rule the world?” Adonis’s gaze was… disappointed. I grinned shamelessly. “Nope. But here’s the thing: Our kingdoms face certain doom at the hands of the ancient beast. The only way to survive is to convince the monster not to kill us. The monster only trusts me. So I have to rule both kingdoms.” I shrugged. “It’s out of my hands.”

I threw his words from earlier back at him, and felt satisfied as he winced in recognition.

“We… surrender.” His words were quiet, defeated.

“You unruly child!” My father tried to shout, but a roar from the monster above us silenced him. He quickly surrendered too. I accepted both surrenders, quickly organizing the meetings to bring our governments together under one rule. Fortunately, the princess’s years of study served me well, guiding me smoothly through the process.

______________________________

I had one more confrontation with Adonis, the night before the coronation. He was escorted to my rooms by guards, saying he had a request. I hesitated briefly, but allowed him in, waving the guards behind the door so we could speak freely.

“What was that?” He shouted as soon as they had left.

I stayed sitting, forcing myself to be calm. “I fixed the story.”

“You ruined everything! Even if it stabilizes this world, it will ruin it in the long run.”

“Says you.”

“Trust me.” He threw up his hands as he paced back and forth. “Everything will go a lot smoother if you STOP CHANGING THE STORY.”

“I thought that was why we were here, though?” I sighed, leaning back in my chair and cleaning my nails with a blade. “To fix the lower realms, to save these worlds? That requires change, right?”

He paused in his movements, glaring at me. “Stop acting stupid. These worlds are broken because they didn’t follow the rules. We have to follow them perfectly.”

“I don’t want to though.” I shuddered. “No offense, but if the story is going to require us to have a romantic relationship, I’m finding an alternate solution.”

“That’s what the story requires, you have your role to play. You know the consequences of not playing the right part.”

I sighed. “No, there’s always different paths to take. You’re a good friend, and I’m glad to have you by my side, but that’s different than love.”

“…”

“You clearly don’t love me either, so why are you making such a fuss about this? As long as we complete what we came here to do, that’s all that matters, right?”

“…”

“Right?”

Adonis stepped closer to me, his atmosphere slightly threatening. “Why are you so different from what you are supposed to be?”

“What are you…?”

“Why can’t you just accept.”

His hand grabbed my wrist, the grip painful.

“your.”

He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart. His bright blue eyes were blazing with anger as they stared into my own.

“fate.”

Letting me go, he walked away, putting some distance between us, before turning back to face me.

“This lower realm is stabilized. We should return.” His smile was cold. “The next mission is a little different from our previous ones. We’ll talk about it later.”

“…”

“And next time…?” He laughed, a bitter sound. “You’ll play your part whether you want to or not.”

THUD.

The blade in my hand threw through the air, stabbing into the wall inches from his face. I smiled cheerfully as he looked back at me, shocked.

“Try touching me again, and I’ll cut off something you’ll miss. We’ll discuss missions and roles again in the higher realm, but for now?” I rang a bell and guards came in, escorting him out. “I have a coronation to plan.”

______________________________

My coronation was held outside so that the Ancient beast could stand behind me. It seemed cheerful, letting out victorious roars and swaying from side to side. The people cheered as well, seeming a lot happier than I expected them to be. I guess they’re relieved that they won’t be eaten by the giant monster? I wondered idly how I was going to incorporate the creature into the day to day life of a monarch. For an odd reason I had very little doubt that the monster would stick around.

However, all my plans came to nothing. As the crown was placed on my head, bright blue words formed in the air in front of me:

100% complete.

**** You have finished the mission! ****

It was time to go.

At little sad, I looked up at the ancient monster above me. “Thank you, friend for your help. I wish I could stay with you longer.”

A mournful cry echoed through the world. It seemed to understand that I was leaving. Before I could say anything more to reassure it, the world around me shimmered and disappeared.

Only to reveal a furious Adonis standing in front of me.

“Happy now, Your Majesty?” He sneered.

“Oof, someone’s still a little angry that I used an ancient monster conquer the world. Believe it or not, I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you. But you know why I did what I did. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”

I walked away, feeling his glare on my back long after I was out of sight.

______________________________

When I woke up, I realized that I couldn't move.

I panicked, struggling to move my arms and legs, only managing to turn my head slightly. Enough to see Adonis’s smug expression as he sat by my bed.

“It’s time for our story to progress, Bel.” His smile was strange, twisted. I couldn’t talk back, I shook my head slightly side to side.

“I’m the hero, you are the heroine. If the relationship between us can’t be advanced by working together, than it must be forged in adversity." He reached down and picked me up, carrying me out of the small cottage I had arranged for myself and into the castle courtyard. Whatever drug he had injected me with was slowly wearing off, and I struggled in his arms, finally able to shout.

“Put me down!”

To my surprise he did, and although I struggled to stay upright, I kept my balance and glared at him.

“What are you planning?”

He sighed quietly. “I’m tired of always being the one to compromise. It’s time for you to make a sacrifice, Bel. I’ve avoided this so far, worried that progressing our story this way would kill you, but it seems that it is our fate that we take this risk. It’s… unfortunate. I do very much hope you don’t die.” He paused, trying to smile at me. “Don’t worry. It’s only temporary. I’ll come and rescue you soon.”

“A sacrifice?” I felt cold, even as I stood in the warm afternoon sun. My thoughts were slow to form, possibly a side effect of the medication. “Why?”

He shrugged. “There’s an order to everything. Rules. Law. They are all that stand between us and pure chaos. No one can ignore them. Not you. Not even me.”

“Then sacrifice yourself, asshole! Why send me?”

He shrugged. “It’s your role to play, not mine. Your fate.”

“Screw fate! I don’t care if you say it’s temporary or not! Friends don’t sacrifice friends!” I was furious, still weak and feeling helpless.

His hand reached out and brushed my cheek, the touch freezing my skin. I wanted to move away but I could still barely move, only managing to glare at him. “Don’t look at me with those eyes. It’s not my fault. If you want to blame anyone, blame the story.”

“Ad…”

“Sorry, you must accept your fate.” I felt a pinch in my arm, the stick of a needle as he injected something into the muscle. Immediately darkness overwhelmed me.

“We all do.”

Everything faded into darkness.

______________________________

When I woke up, I was in a strange world, surrounded by forest. I lay on my back, still feeling weak, fury coursing through my veins.

Adonis and I had worked well together, despite arguing multiple times in the past. But now… any goodwill I had towards him was gone. He had betrayed me. Knocked me out and sent me to somewhere dangerous, somewhere I could be killed, just to follow his precious fate. To get the story he wanted.

“Are you lost?

I looked over at the source of the voice. It was a tall young man with dark hair, wearing grey, non-descript clothing. He kneeled down next to me, and I found myself staring into dark blue eyes.

“Seems a good description for my current situation.” I smiled despite the dizziness. “Nice to meet you, Stranger.”

He grinned, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Call me Liam.”

Liam? Could he be…?

“…Nice to meet you, Liam.” I laughed. “Or should I say: nice to see you again?”

*** Soul transfer 25% complete. ***

[waitimcomingtoo]

The Proposal ~ T.H

chapter six: the end

Synopsis: fake marriage, real trouble

Series Masterlist

A week later, you sat in a hotel room in Canada with papers all around you. The process to becoming a citizen was a long one, so you wanted to get started right away. You were pulled away from your work momentarily when you heard a knock at your door.

“Who is it?” You called out.

“Room service.” A muffled voice called back. You furrowed your eyebrows before going to the door to inspect the random visitor.

“I didn’t order any-“

You opened the door to see Tom in his regular clothes with a Starbucks cup in hand. You didn’t have to drink from the cup to know it was a matcha latte.

“Good morning.” He smiled shyly and held the cup out. “This is for you.”

“Tom?” You asked in disbelief. “How did you get here?”

You took the cup from him to be polite and took a sip, smiling a little at the correct order.

“I followed the yellow brick road.” He said simply. You gave him an unamused look and took a long sip of your drink.

“Sorry. Was that a bad time for a witch joke? It feels like it was a bad time. Oh God.” He began to panic and looked down at the ground.

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “But what are you doing here?”

“I came to get you back.” He told you. “The office isn’t the same without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Part of you couldn’t believe he had flown all the way to Canada just to try to get you back, but another part of you knew that was exactly the kind of thing Tom would do.

“And also, I really miss you.” He added quietly. “I really, really, miss you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You admitted, bringing a smile out of him. He pulled out an unused barf bag out of his pocket suddenly and you noticed that he had written all over it.

“Sorry. I came up with this whole speech on the plane and I didn’t want to forget it.” He cleared his throat before beginning to read off the bag. “I know why you ran away. You ran because you were scared. You’re scared of being a part of a family again and allowing someone to love you. Am I right?”

“You might be a little right.” You mumbled as you adverted your eyes.

“You’re scared of having people who love you in spite of all your efforts to shut them out.” He continued. “You’re scared of that because you want it more than anything.”

He folded the bag suddenly and shoved it back into his pocket, deciding to speak from the heart instead. He took your hands in his, prompting you to look at him.

“It’s all here.” He said sincerely. “It’s waiting for you. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

“And what about when it’s not there anymore?” You asked in a weak voice. “When it goes away, like every good thing does, then what? Who’s gonna love me then?”

“I know you think it’s been a long time since you’ve been a part of a family, but it hasn’t.” Tom told you. “You and me sharing that office the past two years, that was the start of our family. All the late nights we spent reading page after page. Every moment you took to teach me something so that I could be better at my job, so I could be like you. All of that was us, you and me, being a family.”

“No it wasn’t.” You pulled your hands out of his. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“You told me you were falling in love with me.” He ignored your efforts to make him leave. “Did you mean that?”

“Yes.” You said after a minute of silence.

“I meant it too.” He smiled softly.

“You don’t love me.” You sighed. “You don’t even know me, Tom.”

“But I want to.” He insisted. “Despite every effort you’ve made to shut me out, I’ve spent the past two years trying to know you. And every time you let me in just a little, I’m reminded why I never stopped trying.”

“You’re not in love with me. You just have some school boy crush.”

“I started as that.” He agreed. “But it’s different now. It’s real now.”

“Don’t you get it? This doesn’t change anything.” You gestured between the two of you. “Even if we developed feelings for each other, our engagement is still fake. You could still go to jail. I care about you and your family too much to risk that.”

“Okay, here me out.” Tom began. “Could jail really be that bad?”

“Oh my God.” You groaned and tried to shut the door.

“And it’s not even guaranteed I’d go to jail.” He continued as he held your door open. “Chances are, the IRCC never finds out that the marriage started as a scam.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying it’s worth the risk to me. I would risk potentially going to jail to give us the time we deserve. Because I do love you.” He promised. “And I know you love me. As much as you don’t want those things to be true, they are. So suck it up, and let me love you. For Gods sake, woman.”

“I’m sorry, was that a proposal?”

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his eyes. “There are like 500 hotels in Canada and I was up all night trying to find the one you were in.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckled a little.

“Let me try again.” He asked before getting down on one knee. “Y/n, will you marry me so that we can date?”

“What if we don’t work out?” You fear as you chewed your bottom lip.

“What if we do?” He shrugged.

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” You chuckled.

“Is that a yes?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll marry you.”

“Did she say yes?” Sams voice came from somewhere in the hallway.

“Shut up!” Harry answered him. “I can’t hear.”

“Both of you, knock it off.” Nikki snapped her fingers. “I can’t hear her answer.”

You looked at Tom with a raised eyebrow as he got off his knee.

“Okay, my family is in the hallway.” He admitted. “But it wasn’t my idea. They begged me to come along.”

“All of them?” You asked.

“They really missed you.” He shrugged, making your face light up.

“I said yes!” You yelled out, loud enough for the family to hear. They all came rushing into your room and enveloped you in a group hug, cheering and crying over the news.

“We’re getting married!” Tom yelled over his family’s cheers.

“Fuck the government!” You yelled back before pulling him into a long, reunion kiss.

One month later

“And now, the vows.” The priest said as he took a step back.

You were standing across from Tom on the alter in his aunts hotel on your highly anticipated wedding day. You’d been staying in the UK on “vacation” as you planned your wedding, adding in a few more details now that you had more time. You were still in Nikki’s wedding dress, but this time, you were wearing Toms old tennis shoes. Paddy had lent you a blue handkerchief of his, which you had tied into your hair. Your entire office had come out to see you, all of them insisting they’d never miss your big day. Best of all, Tom was fresh off getting lovely reviews from the media after his book was received by the public.

“Tom.” You began your vows. “You are the most patient person I have ever met. You have overcome everything I’ve thrown your way with grace and resilience. And I have thrown a lot. I even threw a pencil sharpener at his head once.”

You paused to let the crowd laugh at you joke, even though you weren’t joking.

“Over the past two years, you have been by my side every single day without fail. And after today, you’ll be be my side for the rest of my life.” You continued with a smile. “And I couldn’t be happier about that. I’m so lucky to have found someone who refuses to give up on me. To have found the first person to take the time to get to know me, despite every effort I made to never let such a thing happen. Tom looked past all the walls I put up and decided I was someone who was worth getting to know, and for that I’ll forever be grateful. I’ll forever be grateful for a lot of things he’s done.”

“I did not like Y/n for a long time.” Tom began, making the guests laugh. “I thought she was mean and cold and weird for drinking matcha. Like, who lives in England and doesn’t drink tea? I’ll never understand it. But I’ll never understand a lot of things about Y/n. Like how I can’t stay mad at her, even when she throws things at my head. Or how right when I think I have her figured out, she does something completely out of nowhere. Like publishing my book that I didn’t even know she read. Y/n may come off as mean and frigid, but she’s not. She’s actually really sweet when she wants to be. But only when she wants to be. And if you’re lucky enough to gain her trust, she’ll let you in. And that’s when you’ll meet the one the most intelligent, passionate, beautiful, bitchiest women in the world. And you’ll fall just as deeply in love with her as I have.”

You smiled brightly at Tom as a tear of joy slipped from your eye. He reached forward to wipe it with his thumb as the priest went on.

“Do you, Tom, take Y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He asked. “To have and to hold, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

“And do you, Y/n, take Tom to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“If anyone should have any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You held your breath and looked at the crowd, anticipating at least one person to object. To your surprise, there was not one dry eye in the house. Everyone, including your employees, was in tears. You looked back at Tom in disbelief and he gave you a wink.

“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest said. “You may kiss your spouse.”

Tom was quick to put his hands on your face and pull you into a kiss, as he had been anticipated it from the moment you walked down the isle. You kissed him back as the crowd erupting into applause and cheers. Once the pictures were taken and the final words were said, you ran down the isle hand in hand.

The reception was held in a room right next store as Toms family and your employees gathered together. You changed into a casual white slip dress and kept your tennis shoes on so you could be more comfortable. After the reception and a few goodbyes to his family, you drove back to your apartment to spend the night.

“I can’t believe it.” Tom sighed happily as you walked through the front door. “We’re really married.”

“Not yet.” You reminded him as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “Our appointment is at 8 am tomorrow at city hall. Harry said he’d be our witness.”

“You made my family really happy today.” He smiled up at you while his fingers drummed your waistline. “They really like having you around.”

“I like them.” You replied. “I’m honored to be a Holland.”

“You don’t have to change your last name if you don’t want to.” He said softly. “I know it’s a sexist tradition and everything. I wouldn’t be offended if you kept yours.”

“Tom, I want to take your last name.” You chuckled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the last name of someone who loved me.”

A fond smile tugged at Toms lips before he stepped forward. He silently pulled you into kiss, letting his rough fingers spread across your face. You tugged him by the tie as you stumbled back into your bedroom, never letting your lips leave his. Tom pulled away for a moment to pull his tie over his head and place it around your neck, using it to pull you closer as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“You know.” You smiled against his lips. “We might just get away with this.”

“Oh, darling.” He sighed happily. “I think we already have.”

Three years later

“Hello. My name is Sandra.” Your IRCC agent sat in front of you and smiled tightly. “I’ll be handling your case today. You two must be Mr. and Mrs.-“

“Holland.” You finished her sentence with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well.” She nodded and shook yours and Toms hand. “I see you’re applying for naturalisation.”

“Yes, sir.” You replied. “I would like an adjustment of status for my citizenship.”

“I see.” She said as she looked over your file. “How long have the two of you been married?”

“Three years.” Tom answered.

“Have you lived in the UK the whole time?” Sandra asked.

“Yes, we have.” You nodded as you slipped your fingers through Toms. He brought your enjoined hands to his lap and held them there while his leg anxiously bounced.

“And you both work?”

“Yes.” Tom said. “We’re the chief editors at the Bullock Publishing Company.”

“And Toms a published author.” You added. “A successful one, too.”

“Wow. Chief editors.” Sandra raised her eyebrows. “So, are you familiar with the process of naturalization?”

“Yes. I have all my forms right here.” You handed her a folder full of your processing forms.

“And you passed the life in the UK test?” She asked as she looked through the folder.

“On her first try.” Tom added. “She didn’t even have to study.”

“Have you ever broken a law?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Not even a speeding ticket.”

“Hm.” Sandra looked between the two of you skeptically. “How long were you together before you were married?”

“Two years.” Tom answered. That was the only part you had to lie about, but the rest of your story was truthful. You’d been living in the UK for the past three years as Toms wife, and now it was time to become a real citizen. Sandra looked between the two of you again, not liking how seemingly perfect your story was.

“We met at work.” Tom added when he sensed the doubt. “I used to be her assistant.”

“He stills gets my coffee for me, though.” You smiled at him. “Even after three years of working in the same position as me, he gets my coffee like he’s my assistant. Isn’t that sweet?”

“I don’t mind.” Tom insisted. “After we were married, she changed her coffee order to match mine. Cute, right?”

“We drink tea, actually.” You piped up. “Because who would live in the UK but not drink tea?”

You gulped loudly as Toms leg continued to bounce. You’d managed to get away with it for three years, and you could only hope this meeting wouldn’t jeopardize everything.

“Okay.” Sandra sighed and put your forms down. “We’ll review your case and get back to you in the next few months.”

“Okay.” You smiled nervously. “Thank you so much.”

You grabbed Toms hand and pulled him out of the office as fast as you could.

“She didn’t suspect anything.” Tom said once you were in the car. “I think we actually got away with this.”

“I know.” You laughed in disbelief. “Did we just successfully pull off a fake marriage?”

Tom quieted down all the sudden, looking down at his lap before staring out the window.

“Do you...do you still think it’s fake?” He asked quietly without looking at you.

“Tom, no.” You put your hand on his face and made him look at you. “The engagement was fake. Or, for fake reasons. But the marriage is real to me. It’s been real to me since your mom walked in on us kissing that one day.”

Tom smiled a little a nodded, feeling better now that you reassured him. He took your hand off his face and kissed it as he held eye contact with you.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “I was just wondering because I always thought of it as real.”

“Okay, good.” You squeezed his hand. “Then we’re on the same page.”

6 months later, you found a letter from the government addressed to you in the mailbox. You opened it as you walked back inside the house, freezing in your tracks when you realized what it was.

“Whats that, darling?” Tom asked when he noticed your expression.

“The Home Office approved my citizenship.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I passed. I’m officially a UK citizen.”

“What?!” He rushed towards you and scooped you into a hug. “Thats incredible. Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe it.” You squeezed him tightly as tears of joy streamed down your face. “I’m a citizen. This is amazing.”

Tom pulled away to give you a congratulatory kiss. He pressed kisses all over your face as you giggled in his arms.

“Wait.” He let go of you with a sad look on his face. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you mean?” You wondered.

“Well, you’re a citizen now. Technically, you don’t need to be married to me.” Tom said quietly. You gave him a sympathetic look and stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I know.” You told him. “But I want to be.”

“You do?” He asked hopefully. “You still do, even though you don’t have to?”

“I do.” You promised. “I told you, this is real to me.”

“Okay.” He sighed in relief. “Good.”

“You don’t have to worry about me running anymore, Tom. You’re my family now.” You smiled softly and rested your hand on his face. “And I’m not anywhere.”

“Me either.” He said as he pulled you into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

THE END

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[binniesthighs]

wetter | reader x minho

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho 

Genre: smut, angst,  pwp 

Tags: harddom!minho, sub!reader, fuckboi!minho, fratboy!minho, waitstaff!reader, hookup au, degredation, penetration (r), oral and facefucking (m receiving), several mentions of gagging bc of deepthroating, fingering (r), semi-public sex (bathroom), quickie, cumshot (face), several allusions to infidelity 

Word count: 2.5k 

Requested: “hard dom!minho... with degradation...pls...”  &  “my thoughts are filled with hard dom!minho with degredation 🤤” (original ask)

There’s something intoxicating about hooking up with a person when the only thing that you know about them is the heat from their lips. 

Some would argue that this makes them less of a “person” but more of a fantasy. If you had know their name, it would’ve made other strings twist in the mix. If you had known their name, maybe you would have been inclined to look them up maybe, or even worse, fall asleep with their name running over and over in your mind. 

It was best when they tasted like sin and like the daydreams that you had never uttered. 

He wasn’t like the other men that you would lead into the spotless bathroom of the country club which practically shone from the hard work of janitors who were paid less than the meals served at the god-forsaken place. As a part of the wait staff, your pay was dismal, but at least you could get a good fuck out of it once and a while. 

Then men that would frequent the country club and golf course were always the kind that had starving hands and dicks that would twitch under their belts from the slightest brush of your hand. They were the kind of men who had wives, mistresses, and even handsome young men who could be at their beck and call. You liked to think that you were unlike those who they secretly craved. If anything, you were their daydreams. 

This man seemed to be no different--at least in looks. 

He sat with his legs spread where he socialized with his young friends on the veranda. The small group ate their salmon on bagels and caviar along with expensive cocktails that you barely knew the names of. A couple of them already had girls on their laps, and they fed them cherries which stained their plush (and likely fake) lips. 

This man sat alone with his cardigan and perfectly pressed pants and loafers that appeared to have never been worn before. He had barely touched his food, but rather seemed to satiate his appetite from the teasing and dumb laughter of his friends. Judging off of his chunky and extravagant watch, there must’ve been no way that he had paid for the thing himself. Daddy or Mommy’s money made him appear as if he was some heir or prince. He even smelled like one too. 

The male patrons would often follow the way that your hips moved when you walked to and from their table, or how your hands would rest on the crystal glass tables as you took their orders. You knew they must have been imagining what your fingers would’ve looked around their cocks. 

He even gave you the same look. 

You had guessed that he must’ve been college age or some kind of graduate. His friends wore Greek letters, so you assumed that he must have been one of the “brothers.” A long time ago, someone had told you to be especially careful of his breed of boy. 

“Care to accompany me away from this crowd?” He had whispered into your ear, tickling it, when you had reached across to grab the plates. 

 The other boys had decided to go to the pool or the gym--not that it mattered--and his hand crept behind your waist as soon as he had excused himself from the rest of the group. 

“I’ve got to call my mom real quick. If she wasn’t such a nag all the time...” 

He held your hand as if he had known you, but it was likely not to rouse suspicion. 

“Nice to meet you.” He sneers, looking back and passing the crowds of women in their feathered hats and other golfers in their finest designer polos and slacks. 

You nod, noting that his hand feels strong and domineering in your own, and you can’t even begin to wonder where he might be taking you. If you were lucky, they would take you to their rooms and lay you down on the California King Sized Mattress, then you wouldn’t have to bend uncomfortably. However, this wouldn’t always be the case. Most of them favored coat closets, bathrooms and powder rooms. 

You kept your head down as he pulled you further down hallways, praying that none of your coworkers would take notice. Some of them already had, however it wasn’t like any of them cared...not when they would often indulge in the same vice. Unhappy marriages were where most of you found some brief moments of happiness. 

The young man snickered finding his hiding place and promptly lead you along with him into the towel closet which had been unlocked by the pool boys. The door was painted white and louvered with slits for airflow. It was then when you knew this would have to be one of the times when you would have to bite your tongue back. 

He closed the door as quietly as he could, then turned to shove you back against it, and smear his heavy breaths over your mouth where he slicked his tongue against yours immediately. As he did so, his heated fingertips set to shrugging off your apron and hastily throwing it aside. You returned by sinking your fingers under his leather belt and jingling the metal around. If he was to see you bare, you wanted to see him too--something told you that he had something to show under his designer cardigan and this cotton shirt which must’ve cost a similar fortune. 

His abs were toned as you had expected, and they rippled under your fingertips. The young man popped the button to your pants, and you reciprocated doing the same. Just like the others, it barely took anything for him to get hard. His length swelled against your stomach and he grinded it into you too just so you could feel his eagerness. 

“You were practically asking to get fucked? Weren’t you? You whore.” 

The young man smiled out his poisonous words, but they felt as luxurious as they usually did when you had heard them grace your ears. He kissed you once again with a mixture of teeth and tongue that ran your lips raw while you pulled down his pants to his ankles and tugged at the elastic to his briefs. 

“Fuck, you really do want it that bad don’t you baby?” 

His hands palmed at your own quivering sex which had slicked with your own arousal from his greedy advances. His hand pushed at the confines of our underwear and pants where he started to rub incessantly, then ate up your shuddering moans which floated from your lips to his. 

All at once, he removed his hand and left your knees to buckle from the sudden lack of contact. With a deathly glare, he brought his fingers to your gasping mouth. 

“Wetter.”  He demanded before dipping them onto your tongue. You lathered them with your salvia where he twisted them around your muscle with the taste of bitter sweat and your own cum. 

Once he saw fit, he drew his soaked fingers back down to your waistband and resumed teasing at your sensitive skin. 

“You’d like to taste my cock wouldn’t you? Are you hungry enough for it, kitten?” 

You nodded, trying to hide your whimpering from his touch. 

“Get on your fucking knees then.” 

He nearly shoved your shoulders to the ground, but you didn’t need him to prompt you. You pulled down his briefs on your way down his body, springing free his hardened member that was wrapped in thick veins. You firstly jerked at his hooded shaft beading with his cum, and you kissed at his tip roughly too for good measure. 

“Did I say to tease me? Take me in your throat, you slut.” He slapped at your cheek, then aligned his dick with your lips. “What? Scared that it’s too much for you?” 

“No.” You answered while testing him from below. “I can take it.” 

“Show me.” 

You did so--even though his considerable length burned and stretched out your throat at first. You knew that sometimes they liked it when they saw you cry, so you let the tears well at their own will. You hummed against his dick while he pushed at your gag reflex. With your right hand, you took his shaft back to twist at it while your head bobbed. Your steady pace kept your gags at bay, but every so often he would jerk his hips a little with a grunt, and you would nearly loose your composure. 

“Is that as deep as you can take it? Fuck...here I was thinking that you would feel different...” 

The young man laced both of his hands to the sides of your face: the exact place to give a cue into his intentions. 

“Let me know if you need me to stop.” He growled. 

He fucked your face deeper and deeper, gradually working up to a pace that felt comfortable while you puffed up your cheeks. Gag after gag he teased, and the strings of your drool slicked and bubbled on his cock while dripping down your neck too. 

“Your pretty, tight, little throat feels so fucking good on my cock. Is that how you like it you cockslut?” 

Hot tears dripped down your cheeks while you nodded the best you could in response, and your feet startled to tingle where they had fallen asleep where you knelt. 

“Oh fuck yes.” 

All that you could do to steady yourself was claw at his lower back, then moan helplessly against his length which stretched you out so well, it was impossible that it had felt this good before. 

The young man pulled out after leaving your lips raw, pausing to pant like a wild animal while still firmly holding your head. You gasped, open mouthed, and sucked in air greedily while your spit strung from your lips to his cock. 

“Stand up.” He commanded, and pulled you to your shaking feet. “Ready to get fucked sweetheart?” 

“Y-yes.” You said, lightheaded, wiping the drool from your mouth onto your uniform sleeve. 

The young man smirked out before turning you face first into the door. “Good. Don’t make a fucking sound doll. That is, unless you want to get caught? To have someone see you fucked out like this?” 

“N-no...”  

“Lets feel then how tight this hole of yours is.” 

He let out a devilish sounding chuckle while bringing his hips to yours and coaxing his cock into your leaking entrance. He was just as thick in your hole as he had felt in your throat, and you squeaked out feeling the challenge. With your face pressed against the wooden door with ventilation slits, you could see the feet of those walking past, barely even knowing what had been occurring on the other side. Light from the hallway peeped in and striped over your whole body which the man ravished. 

“Spread your legs farther...that’s it...just like that.” 

The stranger thrust slowly at first, like he could just barely give you a taste of his full length; like you barely deserved it too. 

“Fells good, doesn’t it? Such an obedient little fucktoy for me, aren’t you? I bet you were dreaming of this happening weren’t you? ...Looking at me the way that you were...” 

“P-please...” You begged for him to quicken, but that wasn’t even your place. 

“Do you fuck everyone like how you fuck me? I should have guessed that you would put out for anyone with those coy glances. I’m no idiot.” 

“H-harder...fuck me harder...” 

“Harder?” The rich young man scoffed, “I get to decide when I go harder.” 

The man rolled his hips, and the patting of skin filled the darkened room. He gasped out while finding his rhythm, then reached around his fingers to tease at your lips once more. 

“Wetter.” He chanted. 

You did as you were told, he and rewarded you with the harsher grinding of his hips. Once his digits were properly wetted again, he brought them back to your throbbing sex, and rubbed at it with the same ferocity that he snapped. 

“Cum all over my fingers you whore, cum like you fucking want it.” 

His words were dizzying, and you gently rocked yourself over his hand and focused everything you could to drawing out your orgasm which was nearly there. 

“That's right. Fuck my fingers kitten.” 

The stranger too began to shake and you could sense that he had started to let go as well. The door rattled where he had you pressed against it, but he didn’t appear to care in the slightest. 

“Oh god,” You peeped as quietly as you could, and felt your orgasm begging wildly. 

He stopped for a couple moments to tap lightly into your arousal nearly on the edge, then laughed wickedly at the way that your whole body shook in response. All the while, his hips maintained their quick drags. 

“Cum for me.” He demanded once more, and you obliged, finally erupting over his fingers with the cream of your cum lathers over your thighs and wrapping around his digits. 

The words came out airy and broken, “S-shit....s-shit...” 

He had become unchained, then turned his whole attention to the way that his fingers dug into your hips and how he could graze you so deep inside, it was like nothing you had known of before. He then grabbed at your ass with the bite of his fingernails while he pumped with hitched breaths. 

“Back to your knees.” The command was sudden, but soon you found your shaking legs right back on the ground. 

The stranger jerked himself fervently with eyes screwed shut and his own soft moans trailing from his pink lips and wetted tongue. 

“Look at me.” He whispered. With one more flick of his wrist, he sent himself spewing his white and warm cum all over your face; ruining every feature. You closed your eyes to protect them but permitted your tongue to him freely where he jerked out the last of his milkly liquid directly onto your taste buds. His cum had painted your cheeks, and dripped from your jaw. At last you swallowed down the most you could with the bitter aftertaste that you had loved so much. 

“Well, that’s certainly a sight.” The man reveled at his work. 

You gasped out for him and grabbed a nearby towel to wipe the rest away, although he appeared somewhat disappointed by this. He too took a towel to wipe off his length and sweating forehead. After, he was silent picking up his clothes, and jingling his belt once more back over his waist. It often ended like this: the few words spoken in the moments before they left. 

“Thanks for that babe.” He grinned. “Name’s Lee Minho. ‘Hope I’ll be seeing you around again.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

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[dreamslesbian]

so i've been thinking of morality, redemption, atonement and the claim that c!dream is "too evil" and has done "too many awful things" to deserve anything but death at this point, and it reminded me of one of my favorite shows of all time:

the Good Place!

i'll be talking about the ending of the show so spoilers ahead !

so basically, for those who haven't watched it and don't care for spoilers, the Good Place centers around a group of people stuck in the Bad Place (think of Hell, non-religious but same concept) who are initially led to believe they're in the Good Place. a Lot happens but they eventually befriend the demon in charge of their neverending torture and manage to fix the entire afterlife system.

and they do this by acknowledging that punitive justice just isn't fair. that making bad people suffer only ever brings more pain.

"people improve when they get external love and support. how can we hold it agains them when they don't?"

"no one is beyond rehabilitation." -michael, 4x08

the entire thesis of the show is that people can be Good if given the chance, that no one should be considered beyond saving, that everyone deserves a chance to do better, to be better no matter what they've done. the Bad Place gets redesigned so that people just get to try and try, again and again to be good until they are. they get help, they aren't isolated but rather encouraged to socialize and create meaningful connections, and when they fail they are not punished but instead steared into the right direction. it's implied some may take hundreds or thousands of years to get better but it doesn't matter because no one is beyond help, no one gets left behind.

and the series actually shows several examples of people who one might consider irreademable, it doesn't make it entirely comfortable for the viewer to accept that people deserve to be rehabilitated. the abusive and neglectful mother of the protagonist is actually used as The example for people being able to change and how much good allowing people to be better can bring to others. it doesn't erase the hurt she inflicted on her child and tbh while watching i was a bit dissatisfied with her lack of repentance for all she put eleanor through. but still, i could see that wanting revenge or wanting her to repent/apologize in a specific way wasn't the point.

then there's michael, the one who says the lines i quoted above. he is a demon, entirely cruel and "evil" at the start of the show. he tortures the cast for the entirety of the first season and lies and manipulates them a bit more afterwards too. and yet he changes, you could argue that he is a demon and it's in his nature to be evil but that's just not true. by the end of the show he is one of the most empathethic and caring characters on the show, which means he was always capable of being that way. he wasn't given the opportunity or the enviroment to be that way up until the events of the show and that's the entire point! moreover the entire cast would be justified to never forgive him, he tortured them for thousands of lifetimes after all, but they are in the Bad Place for a reason too. they aren't perfect themselves, they've hurt countless people as well. maybe it's not comparable, maybe they aren't equally as "bad" but that doesn't matter. what matters is that they help each other, they forgive each other, they get better together. they don't demand michael to be subjected to the same torture they did or for him to receive any punishment at all. they just forgive him. admitedly he does have to undergo trials and hardships through the show but it's never framed like that is comuppence for all the hurt he's inflicted.

so yeah, maybe c!dream has hurt a lot of people, maybe his actions are worse than the rest of the server combined, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a chance to change and be better. nothing good comes from him suffering or dying, nothing good comes from senseless revenge and violence. i don't think everyone should forgive him or that his road to redemption should be easy or hell even successfull but at the very least let him try.