#trying to process all these feelings and stay sane

[tinycowboybro]

he is so me when i’m sick:

no but actually- when pisaeng had the flu he told kawi (jokingly) to not cry for him and to move on if he died (even to find a better boyfriend which is just not possible pisaeng please)

kawi’s happiness/comfort is the most important thing to pisaeng even if it means breaking his own heart in the process (i.e. all the times he loved kawi from afar in the different futures for kawi’s sake)

and i just really hope this isn’t foreshadowing for pisaeng’s thought process on how he’s going to handle keeping Past kawi from getting sick again

because we can clearly see that pisaeng would not be able to survive losing kawi-

but will he be able to realize that kawi wouldn’t be able to survive losing him either

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

can you guys all please actually actually be so kind to each other and I mean it tangibly like stop being a coward about what you’ll lose cause it doesn’t fucking matter more than being kind and you know it just fucking do what you can we’ve already lost so much what is the fucking cost of being kind to you anymore. people are so fucking desensitized to their own bullshit they’re dealing with like they’re so casual and blaise and ignorant about things that even harm them directly like why not at least be kind about it why not at least deal with the bullshit that comes from being kind instead i am so sad abt this why do people have to make it so hard. like I get capitalism and colonialism and whatever plays into people being raised to be unkind but are we that fucking fallible like that really fucking sucks bro

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 x reader (gender not mentioned/implied/specified); SYNOPSIS: Your first meeting with him was anthing but charming. Especially when he cornered you to the point, where you know you'll have no choice but to submit. TW. implied age gap, manipulation, threatening (?), red flag, power imbalance;

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Be my sugar baby."

You blinked owlishly, trying to process what this customer said and if it was on the menu. When in fact it turned out that it isn't and you connected the words and their meaning, you were ready to burst out laughing.

He can't be serious.

Just by looking at him, you can tell he occupies a high position in some fancy corporation. You were even ready to bet that he was a CEO! It was a mystery itself why he was here, in a food chain restaurant in the first place. An enigma why he even said something like that to you, a plain worker who is pretty much opposite in every aspect one could think of.

He is handsome, you give him that. Probably older than you, since his face was more defined and mature. His suit, which you imagned to be tailor-made, colonge that was so strong you could smell it from behind the counter and all the expensive accesories (I mean look at his watch! Worth univesity tuition installment or two!) he had on were probably worth more than what you owned now.

But no, you aren't stupid. Sleep deprived, yes. Hungry, yes. Broke, also unfortunately, yes. But not stupid.

This man must be high then. No other sane and sober and filthy rich man would propose something like that to the (broke) food chain worker during the first meeting.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. He is still your client and you are fighting to be this employee of the month. You can already envision your photo hanging by the cashier and feel the additional money in your bank account. You won't lose your cool now.

Instead, you plastered your best fake smile.

"I'm afraid that's not on our menu sir. Do you fancy something else?"

The man chuckled, as if you told the best and poshest joke known to mankind. Your eyebrow twitched, yet your smile didn't budget.

Calm down...he is high...let him laugh...employee of the month...additional money...!

"You're more amusing than I thought." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Trust me sweetie, I love how you call me 'sir' but that doesn't change the fact that my request still stays. I want you to be my sugar baby."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir."

"Ho ho, everything is possible." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 hid his hands in the pocket of his pants. He was staring down at you, like you were the most interesting thing he saw in a long while. You began to feel uneasy and slightly curled into yourself. You didn't like how mischievous his smirk looked.

A beat of tense silence passed, before he spoke again.

"I won't back down, sweetie. You know, I've learned that when you really want something, you should fight for it till you'll achieve it. This situation is no different than a business. I provide you safety and money, while you agree to be mine and fulfill my (every) requests." He finished his speech with a smile worth a million dollars, showing off his pearly white and straight teeth.

"Sir -- "

"After all, you wouldn't want your current life to crumble, hm?" You froze when his expression became sinister and his voice lowered to the point of mocking. In your gut you began to feel dread. You knew this feeling bery well. It appears whenever you sense danger. Currently, this man in front of you was a person who you should be afraid of. One thing for sure, he wasn't lying when he said he can destroy you in a matter of one call.

Money rules the world.

"Your measly, little thing, who believes something will change. That it is just a stepping stone. But what if I make it your prison? Force you to be stuck here until you break under pressure? In the end, you'll still agree to be mine, sweetie. It depends on you if you want to suffer or not."

And destroy those who are too weak and gets crushed under its ruthless rule.

"This choice is yours." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 straightened his back and only now you realized he was holding a sheet of paper. "All you have to do is to sign this..."

You knew you have no choice.

"So pick carefully, sweetie."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[stxrvel]

losing myself

memories of how you lost yourself trying to keep your best friend afloat. content. angst, depression and suicidal thoughts. this is post-suguru's death, except the first memory. a/n. i just can't seem to bring myself out of the angst for jjk, i apologise in advance!

jjk main masterlist | main masterlist

Helping Satoru was a way of losing yourself. When Haibara died and Suguru abandoned them, Shoko dealt with it in her loneliness and the only thing Satoru could lean on was you. Your shoulder was his support, the only thing that kept him sane to reality as you both tried to graduate and made the decision to teach school, you for a much more selfish reason than Satoru's human reasons.

Helping Satoru cost you a lifetime of loneliness. You loved your friend and after what happened you were so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were willing to do anything, even if it meant losing everything that once made you who you were and all motivation. You thought your identity didn't compare to the pain and helplessness of not being able to do anything while everyone walked away, but your decision led to a lonelier life than you had thought.

“Hey, everything okay?” Shoko approached through the hallway, the darkness relenting once she was standing next to you. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine. Just a little tired.”

The clouds around you enveloped them on either side, a somber feeling settling in between the space Shoko kept her distance with.

“Well, we've graduated. From now on the pains can't be so great.”

“Yeah, right. We're past the worst of it, aren't we?”

“I'd like to think so.”

Her cocked smile thawed a little of the chill settling in your chest, but her eyes told you everything her lips didn't. She knew, everyone knew, that you hadn't been the same since Suguru left. Satoru was staying afloat because of his goofy personality, but trying your best to keep it that way, the sparkle in your eyes disappeared. The person who used to be told that she brought the sun in her eyes had completely clouded over. Shoko saw the storms in your eyes, the impenetrable and unceasing tempest. She couldn't cross it without dying trying.

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

That was what she said every time, even though you never took her at her word. Shoko always proved she could survive on her own, however she had done it, whatever process she had to go through, the smile she gave you in those moments at least was more genuine than yours.

Satoru was too wrapped up in his own world, his own head and his own pain to stop for a moment to notice yours, which Shoko and the others could. You never placed that guilt on Satoru's shoulders, nor did you need to, but it was something you were sadly aware of. Satoru didn't push you aside because he was selfish, it was simply his way of processing things, so internally and individually inside his head. Just as you had made it your way of processing grief to help Satoru tirelessly, to the point of almost becoming his shadow.

“I don't know what to do anymore, y/n,” Satoru cried, hands holding his head and knees against his chest.

Utahime had called out to you, barely passing you out of eagerness and blurting out a couple of words that you could deduce were about Satoru. It was painful as you knew you had to prepare in advance to see him, because it was heartbreaking to have to help him process his pain while you had to keep your own at bay.

“I'm tired of dreaming about it. I'm tired of… seeing him.”

Your hands moved over his hair, his cursed technique disappearing every time you were near. You tried to contain the trembling of his body by holding his shoulders, but having you closer only made him more vulnerable.

“Not sleeping is not the solution, Satoru.”

“That's the only way,” raising his head, his puffy blue eyes returned your gaze. At times like those, you didn't know how he hadn't noticed your sunken eyes or the black bags that even years later still wouldn't go away.

But it was about him. Satoru was in bad modd. You had to help him. You had to hold him.

“No, it's not. I'm here,” your knees touched his feet, his face contracting as a fresh tide of tears lashed his chest. Cold hands wrapped around you and your numb hands wrapped around his neck. “I know you miss him. I know you regret it.”

His sobs against your shoulder grew louder and louder, but Satoru kept his grip with hostility. He held close to you as his lifeline, the float that carried him across the ocean, shipwrecked in his own pain, lost in his own mind.

“But you know you don't have to carry that pain alone, Satoru.”

“I don't know what I did, y/n…”

“You did what you had to do.”

“No…”

“If you hadn't done it, I would have.”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes crystallizing and pain written all over his face with the trail of tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

“It wasn't anything either of us would've had to have done,” you shook your head, trying to contain the memories in the back of your head, trying to focus on pain your friend in that moment, on what really mattered. “It wasn't anything either of us had to endure.”

“But you're fine…”

You almost snorted, controlling yourself enough to let out a sigh. His naive eyes wouldn't leave yours, almost as if he was constantly wondering what you were doing to deal with all that he wasn't. As if there was something wrong that he was doing or something he wasn't doing that you were, because in his eyes, up until that moment, you were fine.

“I'm fine when you're fine.”

“I'm not fine right now.”

“I know.”

You seemed to think a glimmer of understanding crossed his eyes. You didn't know, you couldn't be sure, but his face returned to your neck and the tears stopped falling. Minutes passed in silence.

“I'm sorry,” was the last thing he said that night.

Helping Satoru was something you would never regret, even when you had lost your spark and the students loved him more than you.

“I thought you were going out tonight.”

You ran into Nanami on your way to your dorm. It was getting close to the time of the outing Satoru had proposed for that night and you knew that if you didn't go no one else would show up there. You hated to think of dashing your friend's hopes, but he had already developed enough strength to go through such a disappointment. It had been months since he had becone strong enough to deal with such situations on his own.

“I'm tired.”

“For something specific?”

It was common for your friends to dance around the elephant in the room, and sometimes you allowed yourself to think how different things would be if they had at some point been more daring with their approaches, as you were with Satoru. What would've changed, then or in the past, if Nanami or Shoko had been more insistent? Where would you be now? Where would you be later?

“Nothing specific. I'd just like to get more rest tonight,” you sent Nanami a smile, the kind you had mastered to avoid such conversations.

“Very well. You know I'm just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Nanami.”

Were you really that selfish? In all their remoteness, your friends were still concerned about your well-being. Had enough time passed for you to not care? If you didn't want to be unwell, why was it so hard for you to accept their help?

“You've lost weight,” Satoru was right beside you from the moment you left Yaga's office.

“The mission went well, Satoru, thank you for caring.”

You tried to dodge him to go back to your room, but of course the white-haired man wouldn't just walk away just because. Lately he was closer, more attentive, more condescending…

“Are you eating well?”

Satoru was trying hard to ignore the way his words brought back dark memories. From the moment he realized what had been happening, his mind was scheming every second of the day in trying to find a way to bring you back to your original state. He couldn't even fully concentrate on the missions, but that was no obstacle for him.

“I'm tired, Satoru. It was three days. I need to sleep.”

“I told Yaga many times to let me go with you…”

“I handled it just fine on my own, Satoru.”

“I know! I'd just like to be of some use-”

“You want to be of some use? Leave me alone!”

The bed was freezing cold as it was every night. You changed the sheets that morning and organized the entire bedroom in a strange spike of energy. You felt a little better afterwards, but not enough. It had never stopped looking and feeling so empty, no matter what you did.

Satoru called you a couple of times that night, but as usual, he'd give up after a couple of tries.

You wondered again, drowsily, what would be different if only he had insisted a little more…

[chaoticloving]

afterparty

frat/hockey!harry styles x reader

summery: after an intense after party from harry winning the game, the fire alarm get set off, revealing a secret relationship

warning: allusions to sex

a/n: TESTS DONE FUCK YEAH

The after party was intense, to put lightly.

After another amazing win by Harry and his team, they organized a party at the frat. Beer, booze, and vodka was all throughout the house—sprite for the designated drivers—and cheers could be heard all along campus.

Y/n and Harry had a quite relationship, no one knew that the future hockey star and the genius future lawyer were dating. An unluckily pair that met during an Economics class, in a time where Y/n had no clue what she wanted to do in her life and Harry had little confidence in his hockey career. They happen to sit next to each other, taking subtle glances at each other. But it was when Y/n noticed Harry’s excelling scores in the math heavy portion of the lesson class that she saw her chance to strike, and start conversation.

It’s all history now. They are older, their last year in college, plans in the works for the rest of their lives; nothing was for certain, except that they would stay together. They are confident, they found their right path and are happy—they just can’t fess up to their friends that their together. They both feel guilt, but it’s their life, and they can inform people on certain aspects of it at the right time.

But at the party, they hung out, talked with friends, drunk, played games, drunk, and made subtle gestures to each other that everyone was too drunk to realize how crude they were. The party was loud, music tearing the eardrums of people as they danced, and it was packed. It was for certain that you would have someone’s sweat on you by the end of the night.

But that wasn’t the after party.

It wasn’t an official party, in fact, only Y/n and Harry were present. It was intimate and loving moment between the couple; close, passionate, and sloppy. They were drunk, so it wasn’t the most complex of sex that they’ve ever had, but it was damn good.

The aftermath of laying naked in Harry’s bed was just as great, sobering up and loving the heat radiating from each other. Harry had his face buried in Y/n’s chest, arms wrapped snuggly around the women’s torso as Y/n had her hands mixed in his hair, massaging his scalp nicely. Harry’s thumb was softly rubbing her skin, brushing away any and all insecurities she had.

Harry softly hummed when he was drifting off, a way to not let his mind wonder to worrisome thoughts and that was subtle enough to allow Y/n to rest. He liked making up melodies or replicating some song he heard at the gym.

His humming was coming to a end though—Y/n’s heart rate was softening and causing Harry’s to do the same, he was drifting off, mind mush of wacky dreams of Y/n. She had fallen asleep around five minutes into his humming, passing out after the exhausting party and the even more tiring sex, but made sure her love for Harry was known to settle any worrying midnight doubts.

A loud blaring alarm ruined their night though. Harry had fully awoken first since not being in REM in the first place. He turning over and noticed the sound coming from the fire alarm. His eyes went wide as he used his arms that were around Y/n and gripped her hard, pulling her up with him and waking her in the process.

“Wha’s that noise.” She mumbled, eyes not even fully open.

“Fire alarm. We need to get out.” Harry had put a sweatshirt of his on Y/n guiding it through her head and then put boxers on straight after.

He grabbed a pair of boxers for himself, turning around to see Y/n a little more awake as she put her arms in the sleeves and stood up. Harry was panicking, so he did the sane thing and lifted her up and took her through the house to the closest exit.

Him and Y/n were met with the cold wind of three in the morning. Other members of the team were outside the house, all equally shivering and trying to warm themselves up in their boxers and shirts. A few were straggling behind the couple, but no one until Louis noticed there was one more person accounted here then what should be.

“Alright, who’s extra is here!” Louis shouted over the alarms. “I’m gonna need to know for the report!”

The guys murmured, snickering about one of their friends getting cocked block by a fire; until the eyes fell on the only guy in plane boxers, hugging someone to his chest, Harry.

“Damn, Harry?”

Laughs roared out as the boys nudged one another. Louis smiled and walked over to his best friend.

“Alright!” He called out the group of boys, getting them back into their own business. Louis looked over the couple, curious as to who the girl it. But when he heard the voice, he was shook.

“Hey Louis.” Y/n mumbled, still a little out of it.

“Y/n?” His mouth is open, head looking up at Harry and then back at the girl; his frat brothers watch the interaction too, all tsking and others smiling, mumbling about getting some cash and pizzas. “No fucking way—are you two just hooking up or..?”

“Together.” Harry asserts, arms tensing more around his girlfriend. “Don’t get any ideas, dick.”

Louis put his hands up, stepping back. “Hey. I wouldn’t, just glad everyone’s out here and safe.”

Louis went over to the fire chief, probably telling them what he knows. Harry hugs Y/n though, looking for a bit of comfort with his friends peering eyes. One of the reasons Harry was unwilling to tell the boys about his relationship is just how much they liked Y/n; he knew damn well she was hot and sexy, so did the other boys, and if they knew she’d be around a lot—no way they wouldn’t make their lives a living hell.

“You good, H?” She whispered softly, thumb stroking Harry’s arm.

“Cold.” Is all he spoke, but Y/n wasn’t buying it.

“Embarrassed?” Y/n offered.

Harry shook his head and kissed his girlfriends shoulder. “Never embarrassed of you, love.” Harry hesitated before continuing. “Just don’t like the idea of the boys knowing we sleep together—I’m terrified for the pranks their going to pull to try and get you to go out with them now.”

Y/n smiled kindly at the dumb boy, he was lovable, but he could be a little stupid sometimes. “No prank or shirtless boy could take me away from you.” She chided.

She squeezed Harry’s Harry’s hand three times, then another three times after. I love you.

After a minute of Louis using wild hand and arm gestures to the fire captain, he finally rallied the boys and Y/n back and gave told them the cost was clear. “And Niall?”

“Yeah mate?”

“Never put another pop tart in the toaster ever again.” Every had an annoyed groan and people started to, playfully, shove the man for interrupting their sleep while simultaneously laughing that he cocked blocked Harry.

“We were sleeping!” Harry would shout back at any man that made that same joke which only made them burst out with laughter even more.

Eventually, since the damages were only a ruined toaster, everyone went back inside and Y/n and Harry snuggled under the covers. Although Harry would never admit it, he loved being the little spoon but facing inwards so his face would rest on Y/n’s boobs, and that’s exactly their current position now.

“Think maybe we should spend tomorrow night at mine?” Y/n offered. “Think Lila is there though.”

Harry snuggled even closer to his girl, drifting off slowly. “Maybe we should just move in together.”

Y/n giggled softly. “As much as I’d love that we are broke uni students. Wait till your off playing Hockey professionally and I have my job; then we’ll talk.”

“Hmmk.” Harry hummed. “Can’t wait until we don’t have to be quite anymore when we have sex.”

“I think you mean you don’t have to be quite anymore.” Y/n sighed softly.

“‘scuse me for telling ya how good ya feel.” Harry words were slowly slurring together, but also talking about sex slowly got him riled up.

“Let go to sleep before you get hard.” Y/n sighed. “Too early for morning wood.”

“Never to early to be horny for you babe.” Harry shifted his body and slightly rolled the couple over so Harry was completely on top of Y/n. “Could fuck you right now.”

“Sure you can.” Y/n said, eyes closed but knowing Harry’s are nearly there too. “Tomorrow we can wake your mates up so let’s save it for then.”

“Alright.” Harry kissed his loves nose. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Heyyyy. So happy requests are open again. Had an idea it's kinda random but wanted to get it out there. So Lemon gets a girlfriend and wants tangerine to meet them for the first time. Tangerines obviously REALLY weary cyz it's tan and it's his brother. Lemon also wants to invite reader (tan and reader aren't dating yet) and tan is all for the idea cuz he needs some support so that he isn't bored the whole night. So on the night he picks reader up and they get there earlier than Lemon and his gf so reader is trying to calm tan down and they sort of just have each others backs the whole night. Idk u can decide but i feel lems gf is an ass so tan and reader are quietly blinking at each other the whole night and when there's a chance they break away to the dance floor and are just processing how rude the gf is and reader tries to ease tans anger and they both end up like giggling school girls by the end of the night. It's so unlike tan and I feel like its when tan realises he has feelings for reader. Ik this is long but hope u can do it cuz ur amazing :)))))

hii bb!! really really love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 hope you’re well

ICE.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 801

summary. you & tan meet lemon’s new girlfriend, and both of you are unsure of her

A few hours earlier, you received a string of spam texts from Tangerine, his incessant mithering asking you to join him for drinks tonight. The chat was far from cohesive, just rambling messages about how he wants to shoot himself in the face, Lemon, something about a pub and his brother's new apparent girlfriend. 

After calling him, trying to understand - you found out that you'd essentially be Tan's helper for the night, being someone to keep him sane throughout the evening of faux pleasantries.

Tangerine had pulled up outside your house and was now knocking at your door - his signature rhythmic tune indicating it was him. You open the door, seeing him on the other side wearing smart clothes: dark trousers, a nice top, and an unenthusiastic look on his face.

"You don't look happy," you chuckle, entertained. "You're acting like you don't want to go," you tease, picking up your handbag from the sideboard.

"I can't be fucked," he simply says, his tone short and unpleased.

You step outside, closing the door behind you. "Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," you attempt, trying to put a positive spin on the night. "She might be nice, you don't know."

"No, I do know," he replies, opening your door - holding it for you. "He's got shit taste in women. Always has," he mumbles, closing your door and walking around to get in on the driver's side.

You plug your seatbelt in and turn to face him. "What makes you say that?"

He pulls away from the kerb, shaking his head softly. "For someone that claims to see through people, he sure does a shit job when it comes to dating. They always end up breaking his heart."

You and Tangerine arrive at the pub first, and you head inside to grab a table - ordering a couple of drinks to ease yourselves. He sits at your side, his wide-spread arms nudging into you. You hear him mumble a quiet 'fuck' as he eyes up the door, spotting Lemon and his new girl. 

"If it gets too much, say 'ice', and I'll make up a lie or something— will say I feel sick and want you to take me home— I don't know, I'll improvise," you murmur discreetly behind your hand, secretly talking to Tan.

He hums, standing to greet his brother - bringing him in for a hug, then shaking the hand of his girlfriend by his side, acting pleasant. You follow suit, lightly hugging his girl and then embracing Lem in your usual friendly way. 

They both head to the bar while you and Tangerine stay back at your table, whispering your consensuses to one another. 

"Seems like a right bitch," Tan murmurs, taking a sip of his beer.

"You just met her," you reply, talking against the rim of your glass. "Give her a chance."

"Don't like the way she looked at me," he shrugs. "Looked at me like I was shit on her shoe."

"She's probably just nervous." 

Rather than retaliating, he goes quiet, noticing them on their way back over. 

An hour slowly crawls by, every minute stretched out by the dragging conversation - his girlfriend dominating the talks with her new business idea. You and Tan gave each other little nudges under the table every time she mentioned start-up money - both of you seeing her true intentions.

But Lemon just looked so happy listening to her talk. He looked smitten, and you could feel the internal conflict within Tangerine next to you. 

"Ice has melted," Tangerine nods to your drink, emphasising the safeword. "Let's get you another," he stands, helping you to your feet, his hand seeking yours.

"You guys want anything?" you offer, looking between the others on the opposite side of the table. With a shake of their heads, you leave, following after Tan.

You stand beside him at the bar, attached at the hip. "Doing good?" you ask, head tilting to look at him.  

He nods, pulling out his card to pay. "Can't stand her. But she makes him happy, so I dunno," he shrugs, passing your new drink to you. 

"You're in a pickle," you add, weakly smiling - attempting to ease him. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't like her either. She's really rude to your brother— not a fan."

"It does a bit," he dryly chuckles. "What a fuckin' ballache," he exhales, taking a sip of his beer - meeting your sweet expression over the top of his glass.

"Go have a smoke, clear your head, and we can try again in a bit. If not, I can fake a tummy ache," you smile, picking up your glass - nodding to the back patio doors. "I'll sit with you, keep you company."

[chaifootsteps]

I see your Ozzie punches Stolas and give you the following alternative:

Blitzo has his first meeting with Ozzie and is impressed by how professional he is. He accidentally lets slip how much less stressful being under his supervision will be and Ozzie asks what he means.

Blitzo immediately tenses and starts stammering with before finishing with a sheepish 'Stolas didn't tell you?' (even though his stomach is already sinking because of course Stolas wouldn't mention anything that would make him look bad)

When Ozzie demands to know what Blitzo tells him - reluctantly, while habitually minimizing what Stolas did to him. When Ozzie bursts into flames he's terrified - but Ozzie sees straight away and calms down, reassuring Blitzo he isn't mad with him.

Other nobles know to send demons trying to get to the human realm to Ozzie for official processing, but Stolas risked a powerful grimoire to sleep with a lower class demon?

He gets all sorts of ick thinking about the power difference but he asks Blitzo if they at least had some kind of safe sane & consensual agreement or contract in place so no one was doing anything they were uncomfortable with.

Blitzo says no and when Ozzie asks why he tells him Stolas had so little concern for his safety when he first proposed the deal that Blitzo thought trying to rearrange terms was pointless. Then when Blitzo tells him what exactly happened when Stolas proposed the deal, Ozzie is so quiet Blitzo is worried he's going to combust the whole office.

Instead the sin asks, very quietly, if he can give Blitzo a hug. After he agrees Ozzie reassures him that Stolas is an embarassment to the Goetia and he's sorry for everything he was put through. Blitzo is too teary eyed to speak, so Ozzie asks him to stay with Fizz while he goes to take care of something.

Cut to Fizz and Blitzo eating comfort ice cream together while Hell news catches live footage of Ozzie busting into Stolas' palace and dragging him out by the ermine cape to haul him in front of a tribunal to face the music for breaking demon law and coercing Blitzo. Stolas squirms and tries to throw Blitzo under the bus, but luckily Fizz is there for emotional support and Blitzo gets a curious 'Good for you. Was hopin' you'd be free of that fuck someday' text from an unknown number that's signed with a cowboy hat & clinking beers emoji so all in all it's a pretty good night.

How this entire ask makes me feel:

Thank you for this, Anon. I'll be keeping this one very close.

[sagau-my-beloved]

Death At The Hands Of A God Pt. 2

Warnings: general sagau, imposter au, light descriptions of violence/gore, you're resurrected after being killed (by Venti), not really angst but not really comfort or fluff either

-

Death was not as dark or empty as you had come to expect...

Was this death? Or maybe something in between—

Yes, that seemed like a better way to describe what you were experiencing, something in between real and unreal, existence and nothingness.

You couldn't think, see, feel, anything, as if you were simply a disembodied form of consciousness, waiting.

For what?

You didn't possess that answer, nor the ability to even contemplate the question. If you had the ability to think, you would have wondered briefly if this was what the characters you played as experienced when falling in battle, a void detached from both time and space.

This state of mere existence didn't last long, or, perhaps, it did. Perhaps it lasted many lifetimes, eons upon eons. It's not as if you would have recognized the difference, no different than how time passed when asleep.

You were pulled passively away, out of that void which welcomed you so, called for you, urged you to stay in its own impartial way. A call you didn't have the ability to respond to, as it simply wasn't your choice.

When you opened your eyes again you were met with something unfamiliar, the only hint of recollection stemming from a strong sense of déjà vu and nothing more.

It took you a moment to regain a sense of thought, of consciousness, remember that you were, in fact, an organic being even capable of having thoughts.

You blinked gently, taking in the scene before you, the soft breeze and wide planes spanning on for miles, the sparsely scattered trees, and the brief reflection of a river. You recognized it, in a way, and something in the back of your mind screamed that you were in danger, as if your subconscious knew of what your conscious self was trying so hard to remember.

It took but a second to move your head downward, your eyes finding themselves looking upon a kneeling form that seemed rather unaware of your presence, despite being directly beneath you. It took another moment for your brain to process what exactly you were seeing and why you felt so stricken with terror.

Oh.

Oh god.

As if having the air forcibly removed from your lungs, you felt the world around you collapse, instinctually bringing your hands up to your own throat where you last remembered feeling anything at all.

The sharp inhale is what caught his attention, what caused the previously silent archon, you had come to recognize as no other than your murderer, to raise his head in an unsure movement of fear and hope.

It was you, oh god, it was you.

The weight of every conceivable emotion that tangibly existed ran through his body, only an underlying inkling of self-restraint stopped him from lunging at your feet. He had been praying to you before your sudden appearance, begging for forgiveness, and what else could this be?

It had been only a month since your "passing", and Venti found himself engaging in ritualistic prayer every day since. It was the only thing that kept him sane with his past actions weighing on him constantly, a way to remind himself that you were still alive in spirit. While your mortal shell may be gone, the essence of the almighty creator would forever linger. It was only during these moments of prayer that Venti felt any semblance of the freedom he lost, the freedom he mourned, so he could pretend, if only for a moment, that everything was no different than how it was before that night.

The month had been the purest form of heavenly torture, and no amount of alcohol or sleep could distract him long enough to even pretend that all was well. His presence all but disappeared from the face of Teyvat, as he simply spent more time staring at one of your many shrines than breathing most days. The death of the creator, the murderer of an eternal god, a curse he alone had to bear the knowledge of.

His restraint broke quickly as you seemed to stumble backwards, creating more distance between the two of you than he was comfortable with.

"Your grace."

Felling your title on his tongue, feeling how it passed through his lips, he dreamed nightly of this moment, when he was able to dream of anything other than you so gracefully falling and the golden essence that seeped from your form where his arrow pierced it.

"You."

His heart fell, dropped down into his stomach, and shattered.

"You grace I—, I..."

Despite his seemingly endless internal thesaurus, the bards' mind drew a blank on what to say next.

What could be said? Was this not forgiveness? Was it not your will to grace him again with your presence after an agonizing month alone?

He didn't know you, not really, not personally. All he could attribute you to was the subtle feeling in the back of his mind, the strange whisper helping to guide his choices, the feeling of being watched over, before his mistake that is.

He knew of your legend, too. All the thousands of songs composed in your honor by heart, the unrelenting chattering of people carried by the wind when your name graced their lips. Every short story and unprovable myth about your existence prior, your power of creation and how you passed that power down to the mortals you created.

He knew the idea of you, no different than how his people knew the idea of Barbatos, though never truly him. Yet, as he looked upon you, past the fear, past your human vessel, there was a sense of deep familiarity that rang out and flooded his senses. A feeling that made him want nothing more than to simply know you, know everything unspoken and hidden beneath the layers of divinity, stay with you always and cherish every new piece of information, no matter how miniscule.

You glanced quickly to the left, thinking very carefully about simply making a run for it, wondering how much time you'd have before he could draw his bow and why he hadn't done so yet. Your body froze slightly at the thought, flashes of your prior life running through your mind and the unbridled fear they brought.

Venti seemed to pick up on your train of thought and couldn't stop himself from jumping into action at even the notion of more space being forced between you.

"I'm so so so sorry. I know I can't begin to repent, but please. I took care of the offender! You don't have to worry about them now—"

While rambling, Venti was inching ever closer to where you stood, trying to get close enough to safely grab on to any part of you and never let go. If he could just touch you, just secure the fact in his mind that you were alive.

Your mind was spinning with all the information, still not working at full capacity, muddled and hazy.

"Offender?" Was all you managed to choke out, wondering briefly if he was referring to your past life.

His face paled slightly at your tone. Did you really, truly not know the reason he was forced to—?

"The one in your throne, the one who took your place... The one who— who ordered your... death."

It hurt him to say the word, physically pained him, as if it was a blade caught in his throat, a harsh reminder of his transgressions.

"I— what?"

Venti had made it close enough to wrap his arms around your legs, clinging on for dear life as he reviled in feeling you, prepared to take any blows from your hand if only to stay there, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and it would be blasphemy to deny anything you were gracious enough to give him.

You jumped at the sudden contact, but it was obvious he meant you no harm, though, that fact was particularly hard to convince your mind as it screamed at you to run away from the offender.

For a brief moment, the Venti you knew flashed in your mind as you felt his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes, clouded your vision with how often you used to admire him, back when this was all nothing more than a game. Just a simple game. The concept felt so foreign now.

You shifted your weight slightly and felt him hold on tighter. It took you a moment to realize he was crying, silent tears adorning his soft features.

What could you do? Was it even humanly possible to forgive something of this nature? Had any other being ever been faced with making this choice?

You had to clear your mind, ignore everything around you and focus on what you now knew. This was real, you were some figure of importance— or at the very least looked similar to one, and your death was ordered by someone who had control of even the gods of this world.

You looked down again at him, how he looked so desperate and utterly heartbroken, how he really believed himself to be the bearer of the ultimate transgression.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to his face, brushing your fingertips against the flushed skin, damp with tears. His eyes opened at your touch as he looked up at you, his hands moving from around your leg to your hand, grasping it tight as he held it to his face. This was certainly an odd form of comfort, if it could even be called that, but any touch from you was nothing but divine bliss for him.

Venti mumbled things against your skin now as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing again, as if in prayer. He spoke breathy promises of love, devotion, and repentance, of an infinity without pain or sorrow under his watch, how he'd spend his entire immortal life by your side if you'd allow it, making up for his grave sin.

The few words you caught only led to a growing concern. This wasn't the carefree and playful bard you knew, nor was it the caring but serious god who loved his nation, this was something else entirely, something desperate and zealous, something dangerous...

You started to wonder how long it would take for you to regret your inevitable resurrection when faced with an immortal god who would not live to see you part from him again…

[hetafice]

Hi! Could I request the allies with an overworked s/o? Thanks!

hi! as usual reply is beneath the cut.

America:

It could go one of two ways with Alfred.

Alfred’s solution to the problem may just be to have you quit your job and find a new one.

As someone who gets paid to occasionally loaf off, he might not understand whatever incentivized you to stay at a job you weren’t completely in love with. In his eyes, if your job is too boring or too hard, just leave!

And should you try to explain that you do enjoy your job, just not the overbearing workload, he would be at even more of a loss. 

Another possibility is that you both end up being overworked together and forming a sort of late-night ritual where you work side by side. Sometimes talking, sometimes complaining, sometimes eating, sometimes sitting in comfortable silence as you both hustle to meet a deadline.

Although he is free by nature, Alfred is also keenly aware of just how constraining responsibility can be. To complete his duties to the fullest, he can also lose himself in pursuit of perfection. As someone who’s constantly moving the goalpost for himself, it’s sometimes difficult for him to slow down, to pace himself. As such instead of encouraging you to leave a situation that does not suit you, he might instead choose to remind you of your commitments and why you chose them in the first place.

He isn’t a complete robot, however. He understands the toll that hard work and sacrifice bring, so he’ll try and do something nice to take your mind off of things. It would likely involve one of his favourite coping mechanisms - food. Expect him to either drop food in front of you while you work at random increments or to be pushed into the car and accompany him to the closest fast food drive-in window.

Russia:

To Ivan, there is no such thing as success without a little bit of blood, sweat, and tears. While he may sympathize with you on some level, he believes that struggle is a necessary part of working hard and actualizing one’s dreams; and that to aid someone along the way is just to coddle them. 

On one level, you are someone he deeply cares for, and so he does not wish for you to suffer. However, he also knows from personal experience that without learning the lessons that come out of hard work, you are likely to take things for granted and make simple mistakes in the process of completing your goals. To help you at all would teach you that weakness can still beget success, which would not only then inspire weakness in your future endeavours and prime you for failure, but also place a massive target on your back.

In his eyes, weakness of any kind is ripe for exploitation and is to be avoided at all costs.

Besides, given his history, he knows that people can get pushed and pulled far beyond their limits before they break, so consider this a sort of litmus test. How far can you be pushed before you can’t take anymore? Where do your limits actually lie?

Canada:

Matthew has likely experienced the same things before and is naturally empathetic, so he is a great person to confide in in this scenario.

He would try his utmost best to ease your burdens in whatever capacity he could. If you were busy with work or school, he would compensate for that by doing most, if not all the work around the house. He would check up on you throughout the day to see if you need help with any tasks or even just a general morale boost.

He is more than happy to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on. His advice is usually pretty sound, and he could help you think of ways to better organize your time and/or minimize your workload. If that isn’t an option he could offer various mindfulness and wellness tips to help you keep sane until your workload naturally tapers off.

China:

With his work ethic and general philosophy on life, Yao would push you to be stronger, go harder, and do more. 

In his eyes, hard work is a unanimously good thing. If you are feeling overworked it means you're just coming closer to another limitation that can be surpassed. You may be dealing with uncomfortable feelings, but this discomfort will teach you a lesson and lead to character growth. What bad has ever come of that?

To be completely honest, he may very well be the one overworking you. 

If you are enduring mistreatment in the workplace, or it looks like things may be too much for you, he may try to offer a few words of advice. He would propose that the knowledge this experience would give you was well worth all the struggle, that it would likely aid in cultivating your character, and that you shouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip through your fingers; or worse yet, quit right before the finish line.

Should your body start to take a toll from the overwork, he would offer reminders to take care of your health, but his general stance would not change. Yao is not the type to intervene when things like duty and honor are concerned.

France:

Francis would not understand why you would willingly put yourself through this.

If it’s getting to be too much, why not just leave your responsibilities behind? If your superiors are giving you too many assignments, why not raise hell about it? Meekly sitting in silence is doing nothing to help the problem, and only teaches others that they can walk all over you. Why not just take a few weeks of leave and lounge around with him?

If for some reason, the prospect of potentially missing out on opportunities in favour of spending uninterrupted time with this man is not your style (shocking, I know), he would support you in your endeavours and try his best to help you unwind at the end of every day. He would make sure you ate regularly and continued to sleep well, while also providing you with as much wine as you needed to get you through it.

England:

As he has matured, Arthur has gotten better at consoling people. With that being said, he’s still not the best at it.

Expect an awkward, albeit endearing pep talk coupled with a bit of well-intentioned advice.

He may not be the best with words, but he’s the most concerned when he sees signs of physical exhaustion in you. Despite finding it a bit awkward to voice his concern for you, he’s seemingly always nearby with a cup of tea for you and refuses to head to bed unless he knows you are right behind him.

He’s more than willing to accompany you on those restless nights. Sitting beside you, either reading a book or getting ahead on a few of his assignments. He still remembers his younger days when he frequently worked late into the night. At the time, he secretly wished for a companion, and so now he happily fulfills that same role for you. 

A part of him also feels less worried knowing that should things go on for too long, he can step in and stop you before you work yourself too hard.

[jamimix]

Nothing to Fear

Yandere Sans!Undertale x Reader

This is so random (●v●) I'm not in the fandom anymore. But since @iloveartaaa said pls, I'mma just post it.

Also, this was made some time in 2019(?) so it's not gonna be that well-written. Didn't proof read this either so...

Warnings: Mentions of killing, Stalking

It's already midnight when you stepped out of your workplace, tired and wanting to go home. Luckily, it's only 15 minutes away from your house if you take the right shortcuts. Though, you still felt annoyed at having stay out this late.

Blame goes to your stupid coworker who kept getting you in trouble.

As you walked, you couldn't help but feel as if you're being watched, a bit of paranoia getting to you. You would've ignored it, but your gut says that this probably isn't from your usual stalker.

Ahh yes, your stalker. You knew of him too, quite close to him in fact. But you never really minded, felt safer to have at least someone watching over you to make sure you're safe. And he only ever stalked you when you're outside, so it's fine.

Though, of course, he doesn't know that you know.

Turning a corner, you suddenly hear a scream from where you were. Curious, you turned back to the corner and took a peek.

And then you quickly turned around and walked away from the... disturbing scene.

Ignoring it with the thought of just going home. You felt like you should be shocked, disgusted, or even afraid. But honestly? You're not even shaken from what you saw.

You knew from the moment that you caught each others gaze that he's not as -for the lack of a better word- stable as he seems. And the fact that he's a stalker, well... that doesn't really scream sane, does it?

Sans has always been...something.

You're not sure if he knew that you saw, ('he does' your mind supplies.) but right now, your main course of actions is to really just go home. This has been quite a bothersome day.

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

Why are you not surprised that he's already at your home? The lights are off, the only way that you knew of him being here is because of his glowing eyelights. You held back an annoyed sigh as you stare back at him through the dark.

"What are you doing here, Sans?" You say, breaking the silence. Though, he chose to remain silent, just watching you. You rolled your eyes at him and looked towards where the light switch should be.

You moved towards it, but before you could, you suddenly found yourself in an almost bone-crushing embrace of the skeleton. Trying to pull away was fruitless, as he only tighten his grip, leaving you gasping a bit for air.

You sighed annoyed and then grimaced as you inhaled the stench of iron.

"....you need bath" you grumbled, face squished on his hoodie making your words come out as a mumble. He heard it anyways, the surprised chuckle says so.

"Of all things..." You hear him say, more to himself, in surprise.

Another silence then enveloped you both. Not uncomfortable, yet not comfortable either. Well, that's what you think the atmosphere felt like. You're legs are kinda getting a bit too tired, so you let yourself go limp, closing your eyes in the process.

Surprised (again), Sans adjusted his hold on you so that you wouldn't fall. A part of him worried, thinking that you suddenly just passed out. But a large part of him is quite giddy to have you in his arms.

Now holding you bridestyle, he couldn't help but grin wider with the already permanent smile on his face. He's not sure why you're not screaming and trying to get away from him, but he's not going to complain about it. This is basically saying that you're accepting him for who he is.

This is a blessing.

He couldn't help the laughter that came out at the thought. From the Underground, he and all of the other monsters, with the help of a human child, got out. The humans on the surface welcomed them with open arms, an 'apology' for the years of imprisonment.

When he and Papyrus moved here at the surface, he met you. The moment he saw you, it was like love at first sight. He was smitten.

It was then that he followed you around. Even became close friends with you just so he could have an excuse to hang out. And then now, even after getting caught killing someone, you seemed fine with it, with him.

He sure is lucky, isn't he?

But his expression darken when his thoughts went to the resets that he had gone through. No matter how many times that Frisk apologized, it can never fix what's been broken.

A sudden tap to his cheek brought him back from his thoughts. Looking down, he sees you staring at him with a questioning gaze.

"You 'kay?" He beamed at your worry, eyelights turning to heart shapes.

"S'nothin'" He says to you, holding you closer to him as he nuzzle his face to yours. You fluster at the action, but didn't do anything to stop him, merely letting him do what he wants.

Safe to say that, he'll N E V E R let you go.

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

I cringe at my past self. my writing sucks.

[cyjammy]

Angel’s Early Struggle

Can we talk about Angel being bothered by Sir Pentious being praised by Charlie? Because I don't think that's been talked about enough if at all.

Angel up to this point and well past episode two puts up a front. His persona empowers him, gives him a shield against his abuser, critics and even himself. Angel's self-imposed egocentrism gives him the opportunity to gain attention whether that be positive or negative. He wants to play the part of a self-assured, overly-sexual porn star because he knows that's how he has to be.

All of this we know already after episode four.

This skepticism and refusal to change is a byproduct of his negative self-image caused by his circumstances. Valentino has ruined Angel up to this point. He allows Angel to continue his self-destructive tendencies and isolated him to the point where his only friend was Cherri Bomb - someone who also enables him. Valentino does this all for his own benefit. Angel is a toy to him - one that makes him money. To Valentino, his feelings are non-existent, what matters is what he can get out of him, how much use Angel is to him.

Whether that be through physicality or being an entertaining plaything, Valentino doesn't care.

When Angel uses his persona, that pleases the person he spends the most time around. Valentino considers him worthy of the little bit of praise he will give before taking it away at the first opportunity. The inconsistent treatment Angel receives from Valentino is traumatic in itself, couple that with sexual and physical abuse and Angel is barely hanging on. Nobody can remain sane from that without having some way to cope.

After all of that mistreatment that solidified Angel's thought process, his fears and insecurities, he finds someone else who gives him attention with zero strings attached through Charlie. Angel is obviously skeptical at first, considering the things Valentino did to him. He knows Hell is unforgiving, that he had already made a mistake trusting a ruthless overlord, so it was a no brainer that he wouldn't trust Charlie, at least not right away.

So Angel emulates Valentino's behavior, he uses Charlie for a free place to stay with minimal intentions of trying to be redeemed. At any opportunity where Charlie doesn't have Angel under watch, he took the chance to do drugs, start fights, and simply revert back to the way he was when he was on his own. Angel does show some kind of remorse, unlike Valentino, before reigning himself back in to pretend he doesn't care.

Even in the pilot you could see the beginnings of character development in Angel. Not everything was as it seemed.

At this point, Angel has no reason to stop this behavior. This is Angel's rationalization: It's Hell, nobody else is going to try Charlie's plan, redemption doesn't exist, why try?

In this endeavor, Angel can't be considered a failure or disappointment. There aren't grave actions for falling short in the Hotel like there would be if he failed Valentino. There is no threat of physical harm, verbal or emotional abuse and manipulation. He may get yelled at by Vaggie and Charlie, but he had just met them, he doesn't care about their opinions or feelings to the point that it would viscerally affect him.

However, Charlie did whittle him down by being genuine. She cares for the hotel’s patrons and her plan for redemption. Charlie stays consistent in a way that Valentino doesn’t.

After a long night of filming, Angel gets to return to the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie are there and Angel stays unbelieving of her plans for redemption. After Alastor joins, Angel also has Nifty and Husk.

He doesn’t have to stew in his misery within the same vicinity as his abuser. He gets to have a distraction and a support system no matter how dysfunctional they may seem.

When Sir Pentious joins the hotel as a spy for the Vees, Angel has to compete for attention where he never had to. Sir Pentious is the patron of Charlie’s dreams. He appeals to her notion of instant conversion by obediently following her orders no matter how nonsensical or small.

Angel continues to put up the same front since it hasn't stopped working for him before. Charlie starts a group activity, Sir Pentious succeeds, and Angel says it's stupid.

Charlie has them act out a scene, Angel is critical of it and Sir Pentious plays the part perfectly.

Charlie freely gives him praise.

Angel has never received praise from Charlie up to this point. At least, nothing direct. Charlie would placate him, use language that wasn't insulting, but those comments weren't compliments.

They were meant to redirect, produce a productive conversation and ultimately help Charlie achieve her goal. She never checked in on Angel's well-being. With everything going on, she was so concerned with her plan that she didn't focus on anything else.

Angel doesn't make an event out of it. He states that he's leaving and when the attention is off him he doesn't try to bring it back.

There is simply defeat.

Angel doesn't process these feelings well. He momentarily considers the hotel just as bad as any place in Hell. He considers returning to Valentino. At least in the studio he's the center of attention, he is good at what he does. There is no need to think of ways to be better or earn redemption, he can be a degenerate and a sleazeball all he wants.

While he is certainly being used at least he is of use. He has a purpose and he isn't disregarded because he doesn't measure up. Angel has his part and he plays it well.

So there is that choice to return back to the studio until he is snapped out of his stupor by remembering his reality. There were good moments with Valentino, but those would never outweigh the bad and the downright horrible. The voicemails Valentino left him highlighted that too well.

Angel had no choice but to stay.

But where did that leave him? He felt like a disappointment. Charlie wouldn't see someone as broken as him worthy for redemption. Sir Pentious had that role and he was better in that department. Angel firmly believed that he couldn't change.

Valentino's hold on him remained strong in the earlier months of his departure. Angel struggled with this mindset of self-destruction. He continued to ruin opportunities for himself, but it was so deeply ingrained in him he couldn't stop himself.

So, he goes to cope. He wants to drown his misery away.

And through that he discovers Sir Pentious's true intentions. He wasn't this perfect patron taking Charlie's attention. Angel's skepticism was justified. He didn't have to be perfect nor did he have to try because Sir Pentious was in the same boat as him.

He prioritized his interests over redemption.

And I wish we could have seen the change with a few more episodes because there is no way this distrust faded in a day.

Knowing that there were months of development in between these moments clears up a few things, but it wasn't on screen so we're left to speculate.

Now, instead of being spiteful, Angel is back to acting as he would with anyone in the Hotel. Sir Pentious has been brought down off his pedestal, he didn't have pure intentions, his dreams of becoming a powerful overlord were crushed and he was cluelessly following an untested path to redemption because he had nowhere else to go.

Angel's attitude persists until Loser, Baby. This is the second moment where he realizes that Hell is shit and nobody is better than anyone, especially if they ended up here. Husk is there for Anthony, a guy who isn't putting on a front and just made a few shit decisions.

As the months go on and Angel only has to interact with Valentino in a business capacity, he gains confidence. There's a system in place that's benefitting him, he has friends and a reason for being.

He even goes as far as to defend his new friends - his faux family - against the biggest threat to his wellbeing.

He has hope for the future and I love that all of it was revealed in Season 1. All you have to do is pay attention.

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

ghost of a smile.

sirius said, “you fall in love with anything with a pulse.” so naturally james proves him wrong.

tags: james potter x reader,, they/them pronouns,, you’re a ghost,, sirius is vv protective of james,, wolfstar (it wasn’t supposed to be but then when i kept writing it just felt right),, crack,, age gap(???),, magical inter-racial relationships(???)

“prongs, it’s a fuckin’ ghost.”

“i love them.”

“it’s a ghost!” sirius punctuated the sentence by grabbing james by the shoulders and literally shaking him to sanity. but proved to be futile as the messy haired man clicks his tongue and shrugs off sirius’ hand as if it offended him.

“i know that, and my feelings won’t change. they make me feel alive.”

sirius groans, oh the irony, eyes wild in disbelief and turning to the rest, hopefully as exasperated and bewildered as he is. the look on his face as if saying, can you believe this guy?!

peter still looks disturbed and mooney looks like he’s trying to understand what james’ thought process was.

but that’s the thing. there is no thought. that’s why they’re in this situation in the first place. sirius likes to think there is no sane person to fancy an incorporeal being. much less, ugh, love them.

but leave it to james to prove him wrong. sirius almost laughs at the absurdity of it all.

“i know you like to go above and beyond expectations. but when i said you can fall in love with anything with a pulse, i didn’t mean for it to be a challenge.”

you cleared your throat, “i’m guessing this isn’t the best time.” you interjected sheepishly. hovering just a little above the floor. sirius thinks you almost look like a normal student. if normal students were translucent and dead.

when nobody said anything, but gave sheepish (remus and peter), worried (james) and judging (sirius) looks.

“i should just go and let you gentlemen talk things through. i’ll see you later james.”

“no don’t go,” he pouted. actually pouted! the love sick fool. “i’ll come with you.”

you shook your head, translucent hair swaying with the movement. “no it’s alright, you can stay and talk with your friends.” you smiled.

you gave him an encouraging nudge, or so to speak, since he can’t really feel you. because, again—dead.

james just nodded, and like a puppy, stayed.

once you were gone, remus was the first to speak,

“james, i think what sirius is trying to say here is how did this even happen?” remus asks softly, scratching his cheek, like he does when the puzzle he’s solving isn’t as easy as he thought it would be.

james sighs, he actually sighs like a besotted maiden, “i was— just a lost soul,” sirius blanched. “—wandering on this earth and then i met them, my beautiful love.”

“that isn’t the only lost soul that day, i bet.” sirius scoffs.

completely ignoring sirius now, james continues, “and then it just feels like everything clicked into place. they were always there when i needed someone to talk to. they were always so warm and kind. they always listened to me, they don’t make fun of my feelings. they don’t disregard them. they’re so beautiful and so smart. they’re crazy smart, knows a lot of things about history and all. you two would get along well, mooney.”

“they should know about history considering they died in it.” sirius hiss out but ultimately ignored.

“but james…” remus starts, and sirius almost sighs in relief at least somebody was also using their brain.

but then james interrupts, “i know they’re a ghost, and there’s not much else i can do about that. but remus, i can feel them. when we talk, i know they understand me and i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about someone before.”

sirius rolls his eyes, having heard a similar speech when james said he fell in love with the store clerk in a muggle record shop in london.

sirius wanted so badly to scream out louder, in hopes to wake his friend from his delusion.

james clearly isn’t sound of mind right now. and it’s his duty as his best mate to help him. with the help of remus, they can do it. so he took the first step.

“james—“

“i think that’s beautiful james.” remus cut in.

sirius have never felt so betrayed in his life. and by remus of all people. and his face made sure to show this betrayal. lips curling into a horrified gape, eyes in a frenzy of rage.

remus clicks his tongue at him and covers his face with his large warm hand.

“thank you remus.” his crazy friend gave his crazier friend a lopsided smile.

hells, he was even blushing.

“are you fucking serious right now remus? they’re dead!” he shouted, muffled by remus’ hand.

remus ignored him turning to a now frowning james, “why don’t you go ahead and catch up with them while i talk to sirius quickly.”

james gave sirius a brief look and nodded. walking back, searching for the poltergeist in the castle.

“what’s wrong with you?!” remus hissed once james was out of sight.

sirius removing the hand on his mouth, growling as he says, “me?! i’m not the one getting it on with a soul, remus. what you’re okay with this?”

“yes,” remus gave a noncommittal shrug, “i’d be okay with it even if you were the one totally enamoured by a ghost.”

sirius gave him a dead look, “you’d be okay with your boyfriend in love with a ghost.”

remus rolls his eyes, a light dust of pink glowing on his cheeks and ears, “not like that, i just mean if the situation was different, you’d want somebody to support you. besides, it’s james, i’m sure this is all harmless.”

“harmless?! am i really the only thinking this is down right strange? i mean it’s a spirit for merlin’s sake! i know my family isn’t exactly picky with their romantic counterparts, fucking cousins and all, so i might not be the best person to defend my case. but this is a dead thing! a ghost. haunting hogwarts. that has to cross some boundary, right?”

remus softly groaning in frustration, “do you think i don’t know that? of course i think this is crazy! but what else could we do? when has james ever listened to us? especially with his penchant for following skirts.”

“and the occasional pants.” peter added with a shrug.

“it’s even crazier that you agree with me but is still willing to let this go on?!”

“if it’s anything like his previous escapades then i’m sure this won’t last as long.” remus sighs, rubbing his neck and stretching his neck.

“ultimately, let him make a fool of himself then. great idea.”

“i think we should trust james more,” peter shrugged, “i mean i’ve seen more weird pairings than a wizard and a ghost. my neighbour’s first boyfriend was a goblin, you know.”

remus lifts his hand to peter, as if to say, see? peter gets it!

“et tu peter?” sirius deadpanned. “traitors. both of you.” turning away as he swiftly walks away from the group.

“what did i do?” peter calls out to him.

“you, especially were no help!” sirius shouted back. his huffs and angry steps echoing in the stone castle.

if they weren’t going to stop james from being barmy then it’s up to him to stop this from going further.

it was a week later and james was still dating the damn ghost. he was even off celebrating some obscure couple holiday. maybe it was your death anniversary, who knows. sweet circe, james is down bad.

sirius slammed a thick dusty old book in the quiet corner of the library.

madam pince already looking over to them aggressively hushing the group.

remus immediately called out a flustered apology before turning to sirius to whisper.

“what is that?”

with smug grin and a hand on his narrow hips, “this, my sweet mooney, is the answer to our haunting problem.”

an ancient, dusty, dirty book that was practically falling apart titled, polly’s practical practices to the paranormal and poltergeists.

“i told you to leave it.” remus clicking his tongue and glaring at the overly smug man.

peter gingerly grabbed the book and started to comb through the pages. “how is this going to help?”

“go to page 189, it talks about exorcisms.” leaning over peter’s shoulders.

“you’re going to exorcist james’ lover?” the tone remus used was full of judgment and condensation. and sirius does not welcome that energy into his space. so, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms— ready to shut down the negative energy.

“it also says on page 7 that ghosts are simply souls that are unable to cross through the spiritual realm. so if anything, i’m doing them a favour.”

peter chewing his lip in contemplation. “shouldn’t we tell james about this first?”

“james is biased, therefore his opinion is invalid.”

remus leaning back into his seat in a slump, “james is a grown man. he can decide for himself what he wants to do in his free time, even if that includes hanging around with a ghost all day.”

sirius feels a twitch in his eye coming. remus for every ounce of his prettiness, equates that to his stubbornness. so you can just imagine how stubborn this man is when he wants to be.

“babe,” sirius groans out, “i don’t understand how you can just let james make a fool of himself like this!—“ there’s a distinct shushing sound, and sirius looks over to sheepishly nod in apology, continuing in a much lower but just as aggressive tone, “he’s dating a fucking ghost, and i’m going to stop it, okay?”

remus levelled him with a glare. “have you even tried getting to know them?”

“the ghost?”

remus levels him with a stare, “they have a name.”

“whatever.” sirius scoffs before straightening up and looking at two of his friends betrayal dawning on his face, “don’t tell m—“

“i’ve gotten to know them very well actually, peter has too. hung out multiple times now.”

“you have? since when? how? why didn’t you tell me?”

peter, closing the book softly, “since james told us, they’re actually pretty cool. not as mental as the other ghosts for one.”

sirius gawks, the familiar sting of disappointment and betrayal brewing in his navel. “and you didn’t think to inform me of this development?!”

“mr. black, please leave the premises if you can’t keep the decorum expected in the library!”

“—sorry!” sirius calls back, before turning back to them, whispering harshly, “some friends you are.” swiftly grabbing the book back.

“someone has to be since you’ve refused to talk to james.”

“because he’s gone crazy, i don’t talk to crazy people— already had enough of that from my mother.”

remus now reaching for the book and reading the table of contents, “how do you even know if this book is accurate?”

sirius rolls his eyes, “it’s the only book left about ghosts,”

remus raised an eyebrow at that, “the only book left? or you just don’t know where to look?”

peter snickered. “considering this is the longest time he’s been in the library for the last six years, i’m guessing he doesn’t even have a library card.”

sirius let out a quiet gasp, petulant as he defends, “this is not the longest time, i know where the sections are.”

“right. well good luck on whatever it is you’re planning. if i wasn’t clear enough— i want no part of this whatsoever, assuming it all blows up in your face.” remus raising a scarred hand in the air and sauntering away.

sirius clicks his tongue, annoyed, “peter, hand me some parchment. i need to make notes about cleansing haunted areas.”

sirius already has a solid plan. he had thought of everything! he’s already practiced the ceremony in the dorms, with peter acting like the ghost. he even practiced drawing the runes and the enunciation of the incantations. he just needs to know where you usually reside in the castle, so he can draw the runes.

the only problem is, he doesn’t know where you are and what better way to know than from romeo, himself.

“james,” sirius calls out.

“here we go.” he hears peter wince, but resolutely ignoring him.

taking a deep breath, “i want to apologize for the way i acted, you deserve to be happy. and if they make you as happy as you say they do, then okay. as your best mate, i’m going to be more supportive of you.”

james, like a big softie that he is, immediately beamed a smile, grabbing sirius by the shoulders and crushing him into a hug.

“i knew you’d come around!” he gushed in his ear. sounding so utterly elated that he almost feels guilty for lying. but he has to do this. for james. “sirius you’re my brother! of course, i forgive you! i don’t think i can even go on for longer not speaking to you. bugged me like mad.”

remus all but looked at sirius in complete suspicion, which he ignores in favour of looking as earnest as he possibly could. peter looking down right nervous as his gaze filters through all three of them.

“to prove my support. i want to meet y/n and be their friend. get to know them a little bit better.”

and if it was even possible, james shone even brighter, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling in excitement. he hadn’t seen that look on his face for quite some time now. looking equivocally happy.

“let’s go right now!”

“now?!”

“yeah, they should be on the third floor.” james grinned. walking a brisk pace and everyone jogging to keep up.

“what are you doing?” remus whispered as he power walked beside him.

sirius feigned innocence, “i’m supporting my best mate.”

remus frowned, not buying it, “and this is after you exorcise them or? or do you plan on damning their soul now?”

sirius clicked his tongue, “you told me to support james and when i do, you doubt me. it’s like you don’t love me.”

“you better be supporting james or i swear to god—“

“so james!” looking ahead, resolutely ignoring the stare burning to the side of his face. “anything i should know before meeting this special apparition of yours?”sirius says, lips stretching into an easy smile.

james slowed his pace, perfectly chirpy to divulge any information about his lover. glowing pink on his cheeks as he starts, “well, they’ve been a ghost in hogwarts since 1902, they were sorted in—“

“do you know how they died?” sirius cut off. resulting in a rude elbow jab from remus and a small frown from peter.

“what?” he said indignantly. isn’t that a vital question to ask? asking how a ghost died?

“they said there was an incident, an ogre got into the castle and, um, killed them,”

yikes.

the book said ghosts may not know how they died. associating their willingness to pass because they haven’t had the closure to move on. though if you knew how you died, it seems counter-productive to tell you about your death in order for you to pass on. so that’s crossed out.

“so are they secretly disembowelled or something? like almost-headless nick?”

james looked back and pursed his lips, gaze turning a little bit sharper, “no, they look perfectly okay. beautiful even.”

oh sure, he thought.

“they do,” remus piped up giving him a stern look. as if he heard him, “very pretty.”

sirius rolls his eyes, “oh of course, puts veela’s to shame, i’m sure.” waving his hand, opting for nonchalance as he continues, “so, what do you usually talk about with them then? surely common interests with an old ghost is hard to find.”

“they’re actually quite young compared to the other ghosts. that’s why they mostly keep to themselves on this floor.”

sirius grimace, fighting a shiver down his spine. “yes being over sixty. very young.”

james glared at him, and he raised his arms in surrender, “just joking.”

“—we talk about a lot of things, quidditch is one.”

“quidditch.” he repeated. do ghosts even follow the leagues?

remus placing an arm around james, “they used to play quidditch, a chaser.”

“quite good too, found their name on past rosters in the library.” peter grinned.

james beamed, encouraged by the others to prattle on. louder and faster like he can’t help but talk about you. like he was just waiting for a reason to. “and they liked potions, helps me study sometimes—“

“study.” he repeated. “with your ghost lover.”

“—oh, we’re here! my love?” james calling out into the alcoves and the barren hall. “i bought my friends, are you here?”

and then like a chill going up his spine, you showed up. floating a hair just above the ground, making it look like as if you’re walking.

you were a pale translucent thing. he had hardly looked at you the first time he’s seen you. confidently thinking he didn’t have to until james inevitably moves on from you. frankly, he didn’t know what to expect once he saw you, again. maybe look a bit alive, since his very much alive friend is very much in love with you.

you looked pretty, sure. but it was nothing to write home about. certainly not the kind that he would be willing to overlook the state of your mortality. but yeah, sure, pretty.

he almost wants to rolls his eyes.

“james, i was going to look for you.” you breathed. looking equally enamoured.

“what for my love?” he asks.

then you noticed the other approaching individuals, “oh hello, remus, peter, and—?“

“this is sirius, remember? i told you about him, didn’t i?” james but all grinned, going up to you and raising his hand as if to touch you. if he even can.

you looked like thin sheets blowing in the wind. if thin sheets can talk and haunt.

“that you did.” you laughed, and then your hand started to look fuckin’ solid. like a solid, human hand grabbing james’ and even squeezing back.

“nice to see you again, y/n, how have you been?” peter smiled.

you shrugged, smiling a little strained. “still very much dead, and here. thanks.”

sirius looked at your joined hands. tight and secure.

remus nudges him out of stupor and he flashes a strained smile.

so you can materialize. at least that answers some questions. though it opens a new array of questions for him now. questions he has no problem vocalizing.

“you can materialize?”

you turn to him, looking beyond nonchalant and relaxed with the whole situation. you obviously also hold no objections to the peculiar relationship. looking all too willing to be james’ dead lover.

“if i try hard enough, yes.”

“how long can you materialize?”

“if it’s just my hands, i can probably hold for a good hour or so.”

the book didn’t mention this.

sirius looks at you, up and down, apprehensive and suspicious. “can every ghost do this then?”

“i think so, though i haven’t seen them attempt it. i’m guessing they never really had any reason to.” you turn to james and grin at him. like some secret was just shared.

james looked at you twice as bright and giddy. hopelessly, happy and pink.

sirius thinks he’s going to hurl.

“so, do you just go materializing your hand, touching school boys every decade or so?”

“pardon?”

“sirius!” remus hissed.

sirius smiles the fakest smile he has, “just a joke.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment. he can feel the heat of james glare and hear the insistent shuffling of peter to his side.

“why did you decide to date james? are you planning on possessing him for his living body?”

“sirius black!” remus grits out, pinching his side.

james stepped forward to shield you, a frown deep in his face, but you just tug at his arm, and he softens.

you laugh, “no, i don’t plan on possessing my boyfriend. as for why i’m dating him,” you turn to look at james again, sharing a secret smile again, “well, i quite like him.”

sirius clicks his tongue.

the night continued on. he asked questions, and you answered them.

he would be, admittedly, very difficult. maybe even down-right rude but you seem to assimilate to his attitude soon enough.

every jab and attack he would aim at you. you would receive with grace and an amused ghost smile.

eventually james wanted some alone time and sirius was just glad for a reason to finally leave.

“you know you could have been a bit nicer or at least decent to y/n.” remus hissed once james and casper went away.

“oh trust me, that was me being nice.” he scoffs.

“asking insensitive questions is not nice, last i checked.” peter said.

shaking his head, “i could have said it was fucking creepy that james is fucking dating a ghost. or maybe tell james he needs to make an appointment with a mind healer soon —that his impulsivity with the concept of “falling in love” is all twisted and, let’s face it, short-lived— pun-intended. i could write to fleamont that his son is fracking with a soul trapped in hogwarts! but i didn’t. trust me that was being nice.” he all but shouted, panting as his face blotched red.

“finally dropping your supporting your best mate agenda then, are you?”

sirius turns to remus, huffing and beyond betrayed, “have you not been listening?!”

remus clicks his tongue, “i understand, but it’s just as you said. all of this is short-lived that will eventually die out. so why bother stressing about it? y/n is a pretty cool spirit if you get to know them.”

“it’s a spirit from the 1900, what else is there to know?”

“you are a real piece of work.” remus giving him a hard glare, pulling at his fringe hard.

peter all quiet and mousy said, “i don’t even know why you’re so worked up about all this.”

sirius groans, “the reason why i’m so worked up about all this is, because it is james, we all know how he is. this is going to be another repeat of him falling for somebody, getting his hopes up and fall face down on the ground. and i’ve seen him fall way too many times to let it happen again. it’s a fucking ghost. there is no future with them. james doesn’t see reason, so it’s up to us to help him.”

remus blinked, and then sagged.

“i get it, okay? i get where you’re coming from. but i think out of everyone here, james is the one that understands this the most. just trust him on this. he’s not daft, he knows what he’s doing.”

“but what if he gets hurt again?”

“then we’ll be there for him.”

you can still somewhat hear them argue in the empty halls. you were sure james can too, if his frown was anything to go by.

“sirius is… lovely.” you hummed.

james groans, pulling you to to sit with him on one of the benches. “i’m so sorry about that, he’s just—“

you raise hand to stop his blabber, “i completely understand, he’s protective of you. i feel the same way.” you whispered.

james looks at you abashed and pink, before he looks away. still, rubbing his thumb to your knuckles even as it slowly becomes faint and pale, once again.

“he’ll warm up to you soon,” he nodded.

you smiled, “should i be worried if he doesn’t?”

he turns to you again, looking at you completely besotted, “you shouldn’t, he’ll like you.”

“you sound sure.”

“because i know him, and i know you. you are, after all, the most charming ghost in the castle.” he grins.

“what a title,” you softly sighed.

“just give him time,”

suddenly you’ve been reminded why you wanted to meet with him. you felt the phantom rhythm of your dead heart thrum through your veins. nervous after so many decades, funny.

“i’ve been reading, lately.”

“oh? about what?” he grins at you, cheeks a healthy glow of life and eyes bright like the light in the morning.

you almost falter, but thank merlin you don’t.

you were sure you wouldn’t be able to tell him if you postponed any more.

“about… leaving.”

“leaving?” he straightened. “what do you mean?”

you flowed to the other side of the room, higher than you would usually go, whenever you were with him. wanting to keep the illusion of normalcy of walking with him. like you were still alive. like a normal student with their boyfriend.

“i’ve been researching about this for a while, even before you came here—hogwarts, i mean, and i think i’ve found some sort of break through. this is what i wanted to talk to you about before— before meeting sirius and all that.”

“what like leaving the castle grounds? or—“ he gulps, looking absolutely terrified. “or leaving?”

you know he was smart enough to answer his own questions. but you also considered he would be in denial, unabashedly hopeful, so you clarified. “about passing on. leaving, for good. i’ve already talked to some other spirits in the castle, who wants to go too and some have already agreed.”

“but don’t you—“ james licked his lips, shifting one foot to the other, “don’t you want to stay with me?”

your chest is hollow, nay, non-existent. but the way he looks at you, his voice, and his warm hand reaching out to you, made you think your chest might be aching with pain.

for all your years in purgatory, haunting and never moving on. all these years of weaving through the halls, seeing different faces every year, it all seemed so short.

and the stretch of your time comprising of moments of when james potter was seeking you out. talking to you. making a companion out of you. and being with you. making you feel alive again.

he was young, bright, and callous, and rough. but he is also sweet, soft, and kind.

you knew from the start, this would never last.

you knew, like everyone else, that he’ll eventually leave too.

there was no life with you. that ended decades ago.

but he still has time.

“james,” you softly called out, floating over to him. thinking long and hard to be corporeal. even if it’s just your hands, so you could touch him.

“don’t.“ he looks down, biting down on his lips, refusing to look at you now. but he did nothing to move away from your hold, he never did, instead lifting his own to touch yours, soft yet firm. “don’t tell me some bull about living my life.”

you sigh, lifting his head to see his ever beautiful eyes, “but you have to.”

he softly shook his head in your hands, his grip tightening afraid to let go. “and i want to spend every moment i can with you,”

“and then what?” you ask.

he stops, his gaze moving all around your face, as if memorizing it to the fullest extent.

“i’m to stay now, and then you leave, and then i stay here? forever?”

he shook his head, pouting like kid, and you always endeared.

“i could get a job here and live here all year long, you can stay in my quarters where we can talk and be toge—“

you laugh letting him go, your hands turning translucent like before, like always. “there is no life with me, james. we’ve talked about this.” you look at him. you see his lip harshly bit down, gnawing, as he pulled to release the blood.

“you know this.“

james turns away from you. scratching his neck, his eyebrows furrowed. like the first time you saw him in the halls. after another failed attempt at wooing birds.

“i know.” he conceded. “i’ve been reading too. i’ve checked out books on how you can pass on. i think i’ve checked out every damn book about ghosts in the library.” he laughs bitterly.

you didn’t know this. he didn’t tell you. somehow that made the pain in your chest clench more. you always thought he would be against you leaving. something on your face must’ve shown this because he clarifies, before looking down again.

“i thought that if— i was the one to find the solution, find the way for you to move on, it wouldn’t feel— it wouldn’t hurt. i thought if it was on my own terms, i would be able to accept it easily. but i’m wrong, of course. it wouldn’t be that simple. especially not with you. with us.”

“you were looking for a way for me to pass on?” you ask gently, stopping low to catch his gaze.

he looked as earnest like the day you met him, nodding as he said, “because i know how miserable you felt. i know you—you don’t have enough reason to stay here any longer than you have. i know us, being together, isn’t reason enough for you to be stuck here for all eternity. i know this, but i was still hoping—”

“oh james,” you sighed.

“some irrational part of my brain wants you stay. i even thought of being with you here too. be with you after—“

“james potter.” you sharply cut in, gaze hardening in anger. but his gaze of despair made you soft and sigh again.

“i will not let you.”

you think of all the ghost trapped in the castle. you see them through the years, losing all sense of themselves more and more. becoming irate and miserable. seeing the same grounds, the same routines, the same days, mashing together in an endless cycle. never moving forward.

and then you see his eyes so full of love, and life, and bravery, and sweetness and roughness. even just thinking he might succumb to the cycle—

“i will not let you.” you repeated.

james reached out again, “i love you,”

you smiled at him, the faux fuzziness spreading down to your phantom toes. “you’ll find someone else to love james. someone who can spend more years of life with you, with so much love to give, i have no doubt about it.”

you think back to the boy crying with a broken rose in the halls, another heartache. the bright eyed look you see him give the person he’s chosen to love that day. another love. always so earnest, always with so much love that he has to give it to someone else.

you brush over his soft cheeks, committed to feeling him for the last time.

“do you—“ he breathed, leaning into your touch and bashfully looking down, “do you think i could see you on the other side?”

you gave a loop-sided smile, seriously how utterly charming, you thought. “i would like to think so. i can even greet you myself once you arrive if you’d like.”

he looks up at you, giving you a pretty smile, “yeah, okay.”

you didn’t leave immediately. you waited for another week.

james drew the runes for you, with sirius eagerly helping. you spent your last days, exploring the hidden parts of the castle with james, showing him all the secret passages you’ve come across. you spent your last day with james talking. taking in a full-body corporeal form and hugging him for the first time. and kissing him.

you left quietly, in the night when he was asleep.

he looked for you in the halls, the next morning, hoping you’d change your mind.

when you didn’t show after an hour, he left—blinking the embarrassing tears collecting in his eyes.

eventually though, james will move on. he doesn’t quite understand true love all that well yet. he’ll still mistake other feelings for love. maybe fall quickly. maybe love more than one person at the same time. eventually, he’ll fall in love, for real this time, find someone else to give his seemingly endless amount of love to and it’ll be returned ten-fold.

or at least it’s what sirius says to remus and peter. after remus reprimanded him for being too happy that you were gone.

extra:

later, when james opens the door on that halloween night. the living room glowing bright with green and the echoes of his son’s cries and his wife’s fast stomps upstairs. he would close his eyes in a swift end. thinking how peaceful it is, how quick— his face graced with a ghost of a smile, he would think of you, and hope you’re waiting on the other side.

[vapolis]

Hey, I've discovered this game recently, but I've been pretty confused - or maybe conflicted (?) - about some stuff from the intro post, and after playing like half a chapter I still am haha. So I prefer to just ask at this point!

So, I believe I saw in an old ask that you said you consider characters who are bad people trying to be better is more compelling than good people forced to do bad things, or something like that. Because of the setting, circumstances and what not, I was obviously not expecting the MC to be a "nice" person (including one forced into their position), but I'm curious if they can actually strive to be better one way or another as the story progresses?

I'm not really interested in playing a "bad guy" who will stay that way, and I'm pretty on the fence about morally grey characters as IF MCs too - I really prefer "good guys" when it comes to protags in this media, but I also love a good "redemption story" or stories about someone trying to be better and stuff like that.

Thing is, I can't really get a good feel on the directions this story will allow us to take in that regard, so I think it's better to just avoid the risk of frustration altogether and ask you directly! This may simply be a "not for me" case, but since I can't really tell as it is...

Thank you!

hello! I've been seeing quite a few people being conflicted about that recently, so it's nice to clear that up here.

the merc will never be considered a good guy, not with the kind of past they have and the things they have willingly done during that time. they can strive to be better and that's reflected by the choices offered. a more merciful approach sees them stray from the more brutal ways they can go about jobs and if your choices are more in favor of the sane stat, the merc can come to realize what damage they have done and try to redeem themself in their own way and free themself of the reputation of being orla's if they desire.

that doesn't however mean that they suddenly no longer are a mercenary and cut off all contact with orla/jax and the others yet to be introduced for plot reasons and it is a complicated process overall.

I'd say the merc has to be a morally ambiguous protagonist to make the story work and can't be considered a really good character. they can try to be better, but they might not bc of the choices you can make.

none of the characters are entirely good which seems to be smth a lot of people have issues with as well, but that's just the nature of the story I want to tell :) if that's not your cup of tea I totally understand and hope you do find a game that reflects your taste better!

[veranavera]

Who I am, what I do, and why I do it :)

Hello people of Tumblr!!! My name is Vera and I'm a trans woman who spends her time hiking a trans pride flag up many mountains (here's a list of all of them!!!). Over the last two years, I've done this on over 500 peaks in the Eastern US, and now I've shifted out to the Western US where I plan on doing this many more times over the next few years! This post is kind of an intro to me, and if you have any more questions, feel free to send them my way! Also do be aware that I'm a Reddit refugee who's new to this site, so if you have any helpful advise, please let me know because I'm still figuring things out as I start to transition away from that dumpster fire of a website! :)

Who am I???

My full name is Veronica Ashcroft (she/her), though I usually refer to myself by my nickname, Vera. I am a transgender hiker and aspiring mountaineer from the Northeast who spends a lot of time outside. I recently bought a van and have converted it into a little mobile-living space, and that combined with my recent decision to do seasonal work means that I have a lot of free time on my hands – free time that I intend to spend hiking and peakbagging as much as I can!

What is peakbagging?

Peakbagging is a style of climbing mountains where the goal is to summit a peak. This can take on many different forms, from just generally trying to summit peaks as a goal of climbing/mountaineering, to religiously pursuing lists of mountains grouped together because of their height, significance, etc. The way I personally approach peakbagging is to summit as many peaks as I can within a given timeframe, usually following some list that I either created myself or borrowed from an outside source. Most people who peakbagg do so over the course of months or years, so I'm definitely on one extreme with how much time I put towards my peakbagging projects

Which mountains have I done, which am I working toward, and what will I tackle in the future?

In the summer of 2022, I took a trans pride flag up the Northeast 115 4000fters list, which is a rather descriptive name, given that there are *basically* 115 4000ft mountains in the American Northeast. In the spring of 2023, I bagged the New Southeast 202, which includes the tallest and most prominent peaks in the Southern Appalachians. I spent nearly a year after that grinding through most the New Northeast 131, which comprises a number of the 1000ft prominence peaks in the American Northeast. Although I had to put that project on indefinite pause, I still climbed over 200 peaks as part of it. This fall, I'm road tripping through the American Southwest and will be climbing a number of peaks there - stay tuned for the specifics of those!

Why take a pride flag up mountains?

The simple answer is because I was already going to do these mountains anyway, and taking a pride flag up them allows me to promote trans visibility in the outdoors and spread some positivity in the process. And we trans people need some positivity in the world right now. Politicized transphobia is on the rise, and trans people have become one of the key targets of right-wingers. It was already bad a few years ago and it has gotten worse - I invite you to look at the news if you wanna see what I'm talking out. Obviously taking a flag up some mountains isn't in the same league whatsoever as these political assaults from the right, but we really do need some positivity to stay sane and hopeful in these times. And I'm certainly not going to single-handedly do that - I'm neither that arrogant nor ambitious to claim something like that. But even if my projects positively impact only a small group of people for a brief period, that will be good enough for me

Why take a trans pride flag though?

I'm trans, and I'm also a lesbian and sometimes gender nonconforming - I like to joke that I'm a couple different flavors of queer. Intersectionality is important, and when I started these projects last year, I choose to emphasize my trans identity by taking a trans flag up because that was the part of my identity most under-assault. Truth be told, I was originally planning on using a rainbow flag for my current work for the reason of trying to have my projects appeal to a wider queer audience. But then, the onslaught of anti-trans laws intensified last year, and I was being reminded daily that a lot of people really do hate me for who I am, and I know that those people would already be angry to see a queer person taking a rainbow flag up mountains - but they'd be livid to see a trans woman doing the same with a trans pride flag. Or to put it another way, on a personal level, my trans identity is the target for most of the bigotry I face, and so that's the part of my identity that I want to push back with the most

Why am I not doing something more useful with my life?

With the onslaught of bigotry showing no signs of relenting, I see queer people all over wondering what we can do to fight back. And to be entirely honest, hiking a pride flag up a bunch of mountains definitely isn't the most efficient use of my time and energy right now in that political context. It would probably be a much better idea for me to join one of the many political groups and organizations fighting back against this onslaught of bigotry, rather than doing projects like these. And I know for a fact that some people will look at my project and be disappointed that I'm choosing not to do that. But honestly, hiking makes me really happy, and I've spent the majority of my life profoundly unhappy dealing with issues of depression and gender dysphoria. And now that I'm in a position where I can actually do something like this, I'm gonna, because for most of my life I couldn't even imagine myself having agency over my own life. And, although I'm well aware that the scope of my project is ultimately quite small, I've had enough people both online and irl come up to me and tell me that my projects helped inspire them, or at least just brought some trans positivity in an era that is increasingly frightening for queer people - and, to me, that makes it worth my time

What can you do to help?

If you enjoy my project, please reblog and share it with other people - the more people who view/follow what I do, the more effective I'll be in getting the message across!!!

Is there anywhere else you can follow me?

Yes! I also have a reddit and an insta that I post to, along with an account on peakbagger detailing the nitty gritty of my hikes. Additionally, I have a personal website where I put detailed trip reports and lots of photos, so be sure to check those out!!!

What if you have any other questions?

Reach out! I love it when people message me! Do be aware, I do spend most of my time in mountains with spotty reception, so I might take a few days to get your message!!!

[wajjs]

I think the funniest things that could happen if Hal fucked Kyle and Wally are the ensuing mental breakdowns.

Wally is developing catholic guilt in a non-catholic way about it and it doesn’t stop him per se, but it drives him nuts.

I could see Kyle using Roy as like a way to confess because there’s no way he’s telling any sane person, but he also can’t tell Guy because that’d be a whole thing. I feel like Roy would be the type of friend to get dragged into this type of shit all the time.

Hal would not spend a second dwelling on any of this. He would not unpack or try to process anything about it until months after. He is deeply unwell and about to get drunk and burst and about to unload it all on some poor random bartender.

Wally is going crazy. Which is not a rare thing, but it is a thing nonetheless, and it is happening to him, to Wally, which in turn affects Kyle, and Kyle does not like that. He does not like that one bit.

Wally is going crazy. He's vibrating through the walls faster than he can eat to replenish his energy. Well. Almost faster. Even in the midst of a crisis Wally doesn't forget to keep up with his needed calory intake.

Kyle drums his trimmed fingernails over his phone screen, waiting for Roy to answer to his text. Of course Roy takes three to seven business day to reply. Of course. Typical Roy, to always be busy with his own things to get back to them when they are having a crisis the size and shape of one Hal Jordan who casually sneaked out the window when no one was looking.

"It's just," Wally starts with the exact same phrase he's used to start his previous ten sentences. "He's my uncle!"

Kyle's right eyebrow twitches. "So?"

"I fucked my uncle!"

"He's not really—" his phone buzzes. Kyle lifts his index finger, ordering Wally to wait, which of course makes Wally irate, because as Kyle checks the notification to see it's spam, Wally is also snatching Kyle's phone and throwing it on the messy covers all bundled up at the end of the bed. "Hey!"

"I fucked my uncle, Kyle!" Wally screams at him, and it is also when Kyle realizes it's kind of funny that they're still naked with Hal's jizz cooling up their asses. "I fucked a guy!"

"Well, that's an improvement from uncle." Kyle leans back until he's back to laying down on the bed. "So you fucked a dude. What's the big deal? We fuck all the time."

Turning around, Wally starts the process of looking for his clothes. "You don't count."

"I don't count," Kyle nods first, thinks the words through after. "HEY. What do you mean, I don't count?!"

"You're just some idiot!" He's got his pants on and his underwear in his hands. Kyle glares at him, sitting back up again, and throws a drooled on pillow at his face. "Hal is! Hal is... he's Hal."

Kyle huffs, rolling his eyes as he does. "Big deal. He left us without even a wet towel to clean ourselves with. I'm still here, aren't I?"

"You were just texting Roy. I saw."

"Yeah, but I'm here. Hal isn't."

"I wouldn't stay here with you either."

That's it. Kyle jumps at Wally, hands aimed at his throat, and they both fall to the ground with one loud and painful thump!

[armpirate]

Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 17

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events. 

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with. 

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months. 

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate. 

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position. 

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel. 

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was. 

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it. 

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself. 

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 15 minutes

Chapter warnings: smut, dirty talk, explicit content, female masturbation, teasing

San was gripping on his wheel tight, bothered at the idea of her ex boyfriend showing up there to see her, and claiming her as if they were still together. Coming all the way to Seoul from London... No one would be as stupid to do something like that, unless he thought there was a chance his trip would be worth it.

The click of her tongue broke his thoughts, turning his head for one second to notice her furrowed eyebrows, while the lighting from her screen lit her face. She was typing something, moving nervously in her place.

—Is everything alright?

—Well, considering my ex boyfriend stalked my Linkedin, and showed up in the hotel... No, I could be doing better, to be honest.

—You didn't tell him where you were working? —he looked so calm, in contrast with how he was feeling inside.

—Tell him? I haven't spoken to him since we broke up —she could only shake her head while trapping her lip under her teeth—. Who in their sane mind would do something like this? And why the hell didn't he tell me?

—So you wouldn't run away —he suggested—. It's quite obvious he showed up so you wouldn't have any time to think.

He knew, because he had lived that.

After dealing with his father for so long, San had a master degree against manipulation and guilt tripping. He knew everything about the tricks that type of people used, and how they always found the right way to appeal to their softer and weaker side to trap them. If he hadn't showed up, Y/n would've probably agreed on going out for dinner with him -since he bothered to fly so far away from home just to see her-, and that dinner could've ended... He didn't want to think of how it could've ended.

—Where are we going? —she asked, locking her screen to leave her phone over her lap.

—To have dinner —he turned to her—. I also need to discuss some things with you, and I think it'd be better to do it in a neutral place.

Last time he said something like that, they both ended up making out in his car, and that made her heart beat faster in excitement. Mainly because she wanted more than just a few kisses after he left her so close to the edge she could see glimpses of the aftermath.

His car stopped in front of a restaurant, with San moving faster than her to get out of the car and surround it to open the door for her. His hand, skillfully placed on her lower back, guided her inside to the elevator in front of the main door. And that spot went cold as soon as he moved his fingers away, placing them back on each side of his body to wait to get to the rooftop where the restaurant was placed.

The decor of the restaurant was contemporary with a touch of elegance, featuring large potted plants with flowers that were placed every two and three tables. The ceiling had a unique, textured design with a warm, golden hue, adding to the luxurious feel of the place; and contrasting in light with the night sky in front of them and the lit up buildings of the city.

Again, air was stuck in her throat when his hand took back that spot on her back, helping her walk behind the waiter that led them to their table, next to one of the large windows.

—This place is amazing —she giggled, looking around to get a grip of all the details she could be aware of.

—I'm glad you like it.

It was the first time she saw him smile that way ever since they hopped in his car, with his dimples almost going unnoticeable before his expression turned back to a neutral one.

San waited patiently. He only looked at her, admiring her big eyes glancing over the establishment with attention, endeared by her barely parted lips and subtly curved corners. He only looked at her until the waiter took their order and served them their drinks, with Y/n going for a freezing beer while he followed his tradition and picked the glass of wine he always drank when he went there.

—How did you feel when I didn't let you cum earlier today?

Y/n felt like choking on her beer when San brought up that topic with such ease, that she wouldn't ever have expected it coming.

—I... I don't know —her brain was glitching, processing the images that came back with his words.

—Did you like it? Did you feel comfortable giving me that level of power? That's what I want to know. It's really important for me, Y/n.

Liking it? She loved it. She never thought she'd be so into being controlled and left to be taken care of, but it was the best feeling she had ever had, only being surpassed by the night they spent together during that masked event.

—It was weird —she frowned—, but I did like it. I didn't even care about... you know.

That second smile made his eyes crinkle, while his fingers played with the base of his glass.

—Cumming —he finished for her—. Let's call things as they are, shall we? —he left his laid back posture, sitting back straight when fixing his eyes on hers— And it's something you aren't going to do, at least until you earn it.

She wasn't experienced in that type of sex, but she wasn't a virgin to be stranged at what he was trying to do. He was punishing her for something, and she couldn't quite understand why.

—You look good with a mask, but you look way better without it —he added, looking through the window. She gulped the thick load of spit when his eyes were back on her after a blink—. So that was what you were doing in my office the other day?

—How did you find out?

—Oh, honey. That's definitely not the question you should be asking —he assured her, poking his tongue against his lower lip.

—I didn't want to make things weird between us. So I thought it was better if I was the only one knowing about it.

—And of course confessing while I was knuckles deep in you wasn't an option —he squinted his eyes at her—. Sugar, edging you will be a fairytale compared to what I'll do to you for lying to me, I can promise you that.

Her lips were pressed tight, while her eyes dropped to her empty and clean plate, trying to think of the best way to overcome that situation.

—It made sense it was you though —he commented out of nowhere.

—Because I didn't speak in Korean? —she tried to guess, remembering how most of the conversations she overheard were in his native language.

—Well, that was a hint I chose to ignore —he tilted his head.

A lot of the clients that spent a night in his hotel were foreigners, so hearing someone in the Spadix speaking in another language that wasn't Korean wasn't something that alerted him. Although he did find it curious that day.

—These weeks I've been thinking about you non-stop, so it just made sense you were the only one able to distract me from you.

His confession was so unexpected that she could feel her heart pumping against her rib cage, attempting to break it if he kept looking at her the way he was doing.

—And what were you thinking? —she dared to ask, supporting her head in her hand.

—How good you'd look tied up to my mercy, maybe with a gag in your mouth so you'd stop speaking when you aren't supposed to —when he trapped his lower lip, she knew he wasn't done, but he stopped himself from sharing his dark thoughts with her—. But before any of that happens, I need to settle some things with you.

—Rules?

—Agreements —he corrected her—. The type of sex I enjoy isn't the usual.

—Oh really?

—Y/n, you're already in trouble. Do you want to keep adding onto it? —his warning had her backing up almost immediately— I'm a dom, which means not only your pleasure is under my control. Your emotional, mental and physical health also is. But it doesn't mean you don't have any control. You set the limits, you say when you want to stop or when it's being too much. And, for that, I need you to be vocal. Communication is key in these relationships. I don't want to cross any lines, and even less find out later you were uncomfortable with something we did, only because you didn't dare to speak up.

—That's what the safeword is for?

—It's a good tool for that, yeah —he nodded—. But that's more for the part where we are already at it, and you aren't comfortable with something we agreed on doing. But I need you to set limits you're pretty much sure you don't want to cross ever. A way of calling you, a way of treating you, a gesture, a practice you don't want to try... Anything.

—Do you also mark those limits?

—I do —he smiled fondly, nodding at her question—. Our pleasure stops where the other starts feeling uncomfortable. Bdsm can hurt, you might feel pain, but there will always be pleasure added to it. The second there's none of it, it's where the dynamic doesn't work.

—What are your limits?

—I divide them into two, actually. Hard limits and soft limits. With hard limits being a straightforward no, and soft limits being something I could think of doing only, and only, if you really want to do it —something about him already speaking to her as if they were already an item had her folding on the spot—. As a hard limit: non-con roleplay. Others enjoy their subs pretending to be opposed to what it's being done to them, but it's not my case. I want to hear you moaning, so loud that your sounds vibrate through my eardrums for days —his lips puckered while he thought—. Add gore, scat and bodily fluids that aren't cum or sweat. The second I see blood, the only place you'll be running to is to the emergency room. Sharing you in the Spadix, or any other room is a big no as well. Non-negotiable.

—I don't get it —she frowned—. When we had sex, you started fingering me in front of everyone.

—Sharing your pleasure is one thing, sharing you is another. I like being seen, I like others witnessing how I top you. But have someone lying a hand on you and the night is ruined. And that's another point I wanted to discuss with you. You won't be able to go to the Spadix alone. I don't want to see your name on any of those lists if it hasn't been with me.

—Does that mean I can't meet other guys? I know this isn't a romantic relationship, but...

—You aren't allowed to have another dom and go around those circles without me. In those places, you're mine only. But, of course, I won't stop you from living your life and meeting someone. I understand the nature of this relationship isn't normal, and sometimes things just happen. You don't control when you fall in love —he shrugged—. Actually, if you ever fall for someone while being with me, you'll be the one ending this up by yourself.

It was something that already happened to him, he was no stranger to having one of his agreements finished because the other part found something he wasn't willing to give out.

—I understand —she nodded.

It wasn't like she was looking for a relationship. If she was honest, she was grateful to San for that freedom he was giving her; because the last thing she needed -and wanted- was to be involved with someone else romantically -at least, in a long time.

—I also need you to know that, just like I like sharing your pleasure with the rest, I'm also the type to pull some shows there —he mentioned, looking at her over the curve of his glass while he drank—. Remember the first night you went there and you got so flustered that you ended up running away? If you're mine, you'll be the one on those shows.

She remembered how nervous and strangely uncomfortable she became when she witnessed such an explicit scene, even more after seeing the people around the stage just enjoying what they were seeing as if there was no one else around them. And while she had never thought of doing something similar to that, the thought of her being in that woman's place, while San just did with her what he wanted created a feeling that her blood was running through her veins a bit faster.

After a few seconds of silence, that were so long that started to weight on her shoulder -to the point of making her move uncomfortably on the spot-, she spoke again:

—I have a hard limit. I mean, apart from the scat and bodily fluid thing you mentioned. If we go to the Spadix, I don't want to show my face.

She was able to let herself go the way she did the last time only because no one knew it was her. The same way she sneaked inside, she knew there would be coworkers going around there, and she wasn't willing to deal with the consequences of just some minutes of pleasure.

—It's acceptable —he nodded—, and you won't have to worry about it. Either way, your first times won't be in front of everyone —he assured her.

Of course he wasn't going to expose someone who was just getting started that way. Her first contact should always be with him only and then, when she had broken her shell, he'd guide her step by step towards the outside.

—Will I have to wear latex and stuff like that? I have sensitive skin —she admitted in a whisper, causing San to chuckle.

—I'm not into costumes, so your skin is safe.

When Y/n got up, and he was able to see the way her dress flew with each step he took, he couldn't help but be reminded of the way his hand was hidden under the light fabric. Right there, and with the biggest inspiration of his muse, he got an idea of what her punishment would be like.

The dishes came, and San rushed to put his aside, holding hers to cut her steak in a bite size, leaving her plate right in front of him. Y/n loved playing with fire when it came with him, and he was going to give her a light dose of her own medicine.

Y/n was confused when she saw a plate on the side of the table, while hers was in front of him, with San calmly looking at his phone while he waited for her. His eyes lifted innocently when he heard the clacking of her heels approaching where he was sitting.

—You have a new seat.

Her eyes wandered around their area, confused at his statement, until the chair squeaking when he dragged it enough to leave her some space helped her catch a glimpse of what was about to happen.

At first, she tried to work as hard not to leave her whole weight over his thighs, dividing it between her feet and calves, only to finally give it up and hear him let out a heavy breath when her ass covered his dick.

—Now eat all of your food, without making a sound. And I might rethink your punishment.

After she finally let go of her own weight, she thought it'd be no problem to deal with it. She wasn't the one who was uncomfortable, he was.

Or so she thought.

The edges of her skirt tickled her legs as San moved it up from the right side, until his fingers reached her panties.

—Eat your food, and don't let anyone know what's going on under here, hmm? —shiverings ran over her body when his warm breath caressed her earlobe.

She couldn't help but jump when his fingers found her clothed core, sliding its tips over her fabric so softly that she thought she'd melt, unconsciously spreading her thighs a bit wider. She'd have been able to deal with that, chewing slowly on the juicy and tender steak in front of her.

The movements of her jaw stopped, clenching at the sudden and direct touch of his fingers against her wet slid when they moved lower under the elastic of her panties.

—Fuck, sugar. You like being exposed so much? I didn't have to do anything and you're already getting me all wet —he mumbled against her shoulders, while his fingers started rubbing against her clit up and down—. Eat your food.

Aware of how she stopped, she took another bite, rewarded by his fingers pressing a little harder while making circles around her button.

—You're working so hard to get my cock inside of you —for a quick moment, his fingers pinched her clit, making her sit straight—. Next time I have you sitting like this on me, you'll be keeping my cock warm. How does that sound?

But Y/n was too focused on keeping her mouth full with food, and her lips sealed so not a single moan or whine would escape them. And that made San proud. Seeing her so close to the edge, so close to losing herself, yet at the same time working so hard to keep it all between them... he was damning himself for taking so long to speak with her and getting to where they were.

With each rub, her jaw clenched a bit tighter, her breath got shakier, and her brain was working harder to ignore the growing sensation on her belly to focus on chewing.

Her skin was burning with the first orgasm, closing her legs unconsciously, placing her heels over his feet to find some stability, thinking she'd have some time to recompose after. But his fingers didn't stop moving, keeping the speed, causing an electric feeling to shake her from head to toe as San prolonged her orgasm.

She even felt forced to drop the fork, with a piece of steak still pinched on its dents, just so she could try to reach his wrist to stop him from going on.

—It's been just one. You're already asking me to stop?

The second orgasm after that one was even bigger, momentarily feeling how her eyes moved to the back of her head.

If it weren't because he wanted their first time to be all about themselves only, the next route they'd go to would be that bathroom. But he'd have time for that another day.

Y/n was next to him in his car, looking through the window with a pout she wasn't trying to hide. She didn't care about cumming four times with just his fingers, and having her legs shake so much that she was barely able to stand up later. She wasn't embarrassed when a waiter almost caught them as she escaped a soft moan when he passed by. But she did expect some naughty and dirty sex in the bathroom as a reward for doing what she was told.

Instead, he patted her leg after the desserts and guided her to get up so they could leave the restaurant and he could drop her off at her place.

He had set her on fire twice that day, only to send her off somewhere else instead of his bed.

—Anything you want to say? —he lifted his eyebrow.

—I can't understand how you're so calm after what you did —she muttered, trying to keep her tone as low as possible.

—Did you feel bad about it? —he mocked her with a grin.

—No —her answer was so quick that even she was surprised at how she exposed herself—. It wasn't on my bingo card, but since you started, you could've finished it.

—Someone still doesn't understand the roles, huh? —he rested his back against the seat of his car— Fine.

—I do understand the roles, but...

She recognized the street, but she was even faster to point out the man who was waiting outside of her building. She couldn't understand how Andy knew where she was living, but it made even less sense how he showed up there after she clearly stated she wanted to have nothing to do with him.

—Bend forward and don't move until I say so.

That time, Y/n had nothing to say, nothing to fight back for. The car started beeping when she undid her belt, able to bend her body forward as much as possible, and hide from anyone who could peek through the window.

She had always been grateful to her years doing skating, but her flexibility was one of the things that she thanked the most for keeping.

She didn't know where they were going, or what they were going to do. But one thing was for sure: she trusted San and the uncertainty around him more than her ex boyfriend and whatever scene he could come up with. 

Taglist: @brown88