#2 out of 4 of the things in the last prompt are things that actually legit frighten me

[buzzinrusso]

7+2 - Leah Williamson

Genre :fluff

Prompt: seven times where you and Leah had to hide your relationship, and two times where you didn't care.

(Hiding it.)1.

You and Leah were having a very chill night at your house .

By chill you mean turning on a movie and then proceeding to ignore the said movie and make out with your girlfriend.

That's why you were startling her lap with your mouths connected perfectly in a very intimate kiss, her hand were slowly guiding your hips to grind against her own.

You groaned when the door bell rang, you hated having to be separated from your current position on top of your girlfriend.

"Ignore it, it'll go away. " you mumbled as Leah tangled her hand in your Mid-lengh, brunette hair.

You let out an annoyed sigh as rung the person rung the bell rapidly. "Go see who it is, maybe they'll leave earlier. "

You frustratingly got up from her lap, letting out an annoyed sigh as you made your way to the door to shoo away who you assumed was a person who had the wrong address.

Imagine the surprised look on your face when your opened the door with a huff, ready to tell someone off , only to find your arsenal teammates at the door.

Beth, Viv, Kim, Katie, manu, and Lina,your new teammate were all at the door.

"Oh! Hey guys! " you said extra loud so that Leah could hear you. "What are you doing here? "

"Team bonding. Did you not see the chat?"Beth said while pacing her way into your living room followed by the rest of the team.

"Hiya" Leah said as the team approached where she was sat. You let out a sigh of relief as you noticed that she had managed to remove all the romantic things that were set up, candles, flowers, etc..

"Leah? What are you doing g here? "

"Uh, I thought I'd come early to help her , you know? " Leah stammered on her words, eyes nervously shifting between you and the girls who all took seats.

"Yeah, she actually came in just a few minutes before you guys. "

2.

"So, Leah, " Amanda started with a grin "you seem really happy. "

"Uh yeah, of course I am. " Leah nodded "physio is going great and I'll be back on the pitch in no time. "

"Yeah, that great! But I meant to ask you if you were seeing someone. "

"Mum, I wasn't seeing someone last week, or the week before that, and I'm not seeing someone now. " Leah stated firmly. It was clearly a lie.

"Okay, I was just asking. " her mother shrugged with a knowing smile on her face. "But if you were seeing someone, you would tell me, right? "

"Of course I would mum. "

That was the end of their conversation about relationship, the rest of night was filled with talks of football, life, etc... With Leah, of course, sending you messages every now and then.

3.

You were out on a girls night with you university friends, you went to Cambridge University and there you had met one of your many friends, Eva.

It was about 11pm when you and Eva were left in the corner with your friends Amy and Charlie , conversations sparked up about Amy's latest hookup / situationship which caused everyone to start talking about their significant other.

Your lips turned slightly upwards as you thought about your girlfriend. You had come to the conclusion last night that you and Leah were meant to be. It was a late night , you and Leah were laying in bed , not doing anything and just talking. The moment you realized that you were meant to be was when Leah broke out into uncontrollable laughter at a story you told, and then proceeded to tell a story of her own while you just stared at her in admiration.

"What about you babes? You seem awfully happy, have you got a special someone these days? " Charlotte asked while wiggling her brows teasingly at you.

"No, not really. " you kept your reply short and simple , not giving anyone any room to suspect anything else.

Except for Eva.

She knew you inside out.

Your phone pinged.

𝑬𝒗𝒂

Lair. 😉😉

𝒀𝒐𝒖

I'll talk to you later, don't worry

4.

"Come on, let's go. " Leah grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the training grounds to the car.

The action made you both get looks from your teammates, who were still in the dark about your one year relationship.

"Why are you leaving together? By the way, this isn't the first time you both came in the same car, or left together. " Beth pointed out abruptly interrupting the loud chatter happening around you in the locker room.

You quickly said the first thing that came to you head.

"Of course we do Beth, her house is about two minutes away from mine, why waste my gas when I can waste hers? " Beth, viv , Jen , and lia erupted into quite laughter at your rusher out words as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, as did Leah.

5.

You were getting ready for an event that you and Leah were invited to by sponsors, you were putting on a black fitted long dress that compliments your body's curves perfectly and Leah just couldn't keep her hands off of you.

"Leah seriously, don't start anything you can't finish. " you mumbled as Leah wrapped her arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck and then her hands started to move up from your waist to the rest of your body.

"Who says I can't finish. " it was more of a statement than a question as she continued to kiss down from your neck to your shoulder blades.

"Leah, seriously. We can't be late. " you gently pushed Leah off making her let out a quite whine.

For privacy reasons (keeping your relationship a secret) you and Leah decided to leave in different cars, not In Leah's car as you usually would, meaning you had to leave now, meanwhile Leah had to leave in about 10 minutes so you would arrive at separate times to not raise suspicions.

So, as you tried to leave because your assignee driver was waiting g outside, Leah was still in the middle of applying her finishing touches.

"Ughhh, babyyy, please , one minute. "

"Leah Mr. Adams is honking and waiting for me, I can't be any later than I already am. " you hated to do this but it was all worth it when le walked into the room while you were sitting in the corner with Alex Scott.

The suit she was wearing looked spectacular on her, and it quite literally took your breath away.

Thought you and Leah couldn't physically interact that much during the night, the stolen looks and kisses in the bathroom certainly made up for it.

6.

The stadium erupted as the ball sailed into the back of the net. Your arsenal teammates ran to you to celebrate you game winning goal.

Leah was the first to get there and she immediately launched her entire body weight onto you as you happily let her arms and legs wrap around your body as she repeatedly kissed your forehead and as much as you wanted to kiss her, you knew you couldn't.

With your teammates watching and a very large fandom watching from both inside and outside of the stadium, you knew you certainly could not do what you 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 wanted to do.

You have now grew to hate the fact that you and Leah were forced to hide your relationship, but Leah, as always, promised that you both would go public soon, it wasn't really for the clout, as people would assume. You just really wanted to show her off and hold her hand in public and in front of your friends.

You really did not care what people think of you two to get her, as long as you guys were content and happy, you didn't mind any of the hate you would receive.

But, as you and Leah said, you would wait a couple of months until the right moment to tell everyone.

7.

Your teammates were starting to speculate.

Beth was 100% sure that she saw the both of you kissing, which was true but you were a good enough liar to convince her that she was imaging stuff from how Drunk She was.

Everyone ha their own theory and it was getting a bit annoying to keep hiding your relationship.

You and Leah have had fights about this, but in the end you both came to the same conclusion that you needed to reveal your relationship.

You didn't care how you would do it, you just had to do it.

But, you were doing it after the euros, so both you and Leah could focus on your respective national teams. You, with the Spanish team and Leah with the lionesses.

Leah, obviously, knew about the situation at the Spanish camp so she made sure to call you every night.

It was the little things she does that made you fall more and more in love with her, and her little messages every now and then were really reassuring to you.

At the end, you knew that life would always lead you back to Leah, one way or another.

1.(the times where you didn't care.)

You were a sobbing mess on the field after the whistle blew, officially knocking your team out of the euros.

Instead of celebrating, Leah immediately made her way to you ,kneeling down in front of you and holding your head in her hands as she wiped the tears off of your red face.

"It's fine my love, I'm so sorry. You'll be fine. " she whispered timidly into your ear as you were still crying.

"Can you do one this for me, por favor? " you asked in between breathes. Leah quickly nodded, ready to do anything to help you calm down. "Kiss me? "

Without hesitation, Leah leaned in and connected your lips into the most perfect, magical kiss.

Your lips moulded perfectly together, as you both blocked out the sounds around you, only focusing on each other for the moment as your lips moved in sync almost too well.

Her hands had subconsciously moved to hold your cheeks and pull you in closer, the heated moment then got interrupted by Beth yelling in both of your ears as she ran towards Leah just as she pulled away.

"WHAT THE FUCK?I KNEW IT! " She pulled you and Leah up and planted your feet onto the field as she pulled both of you into a big hug .

Just as she pulled away, you got pulled I to multiple other hugs by both of your international teammates, all of them wishing well for both you and Leah.

2.

"Mum, this is my girlfriend, y/n."each said nervously to her mother as this was her fist time introducing you to each other.

"Girlfriend? Well isn't this lovely! " instead of shaking your extended hand, she pulled you in for a bone crushing hug that you gladly accepted as you were used to this kind of welcome in your home county.

"Come in, come in! "

Later that night at dinner, the questions began rolling in.

"So y/n, how serious are you about my Leah?" Amanda asked tentatively.

"I am very serious about her, I love her more than anything in the world. "

"When did you and Leah get together? "

"We have been together for about a year and three months "

"That long?! And you didn't tell me? " the last question was directed at her daughter.

"We weren't ready yet. " Leah replied immediately. She was heavily nervous for this day since it was planned.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about his sooner? Are you ashamed of my daughter? "

"mum ! We both agreed on this, it want just her. We didn't want to be in the spotlight. " Leah quickly jumped in to defend you against her mother's accusations.

Amanda raised her hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, sorry, I was just making sure. " she gave you a pointed look, you k ew exactly what it meant

It was the typical "don't you dare hurt my daughter " look.

You gave her a firm nod and a tight lipped smile as a response.

It was safe to day that the rest of the night went perfectly well, with Leah's mum giving in slowly to your Spanish charm, and accepting that you were going to be a permanent factor in Leah's life.

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

[snaileer]

Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

7.

8.

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

[mingigoo]

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet. 

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable. 

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual. 

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty. 

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room. 

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you. 

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you. 

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something. 

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you. 

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up. 

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody. 

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows. 

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this. 

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

— 

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance. 

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating. 

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights. 

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity. 

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk. 

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled. 

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.” 

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking? 

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder. 

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you. 

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside. 

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.” 

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features.  “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly. 

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry. 

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment. 

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other. 

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy. 

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out. 

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. 

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.” 

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one. 

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish. 

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you. 

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts. 

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich. 

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance. 

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier. 

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace. 

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second. 

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion. 

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim. 

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified. 

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained. 

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more. 

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before. 

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss. 

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have. 

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you. 

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit. 

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants. 

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath. 

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you. 

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark. 

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life. 

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it. 

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure. 

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak. 

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. 

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours. 

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. 

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start. 

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness. 

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.” 

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll  probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?” 

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him. 

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life. 

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

[tarot-by-e11e]

PAC: "What do you need to let go of?" (call-out from your guides)

"Once we rid ourselves of the shackles of our own self-imposed limitations, we will be able to soar higher and further than the birds in the sky." - said by me

(reminder: this is for entertainment purposes only. Only take what resonates) Choose with mic will lovingly call you out~

Pile 1:

Pile 1: 8 of Coins, Judgement, 7 of Cups, 3 of Cups

Right off the bat, the first phrase I heard was, “unrealistic high standards”. Oomph. *nervously looking away*

Pile 1, by any chance, are you known as the “resident heartbreaker” in your community because of the trail of broken hearts you leave behind? It’s great to have standards but you need also to remember that nobody’s perfect, not even you dear pile 1.  There’s this journal prompt(?) I’ve encountered before about listing down all the characteristics you want in your ideal partner, then sitting down and reflecting if your ideal would wish to have a partner like you. It’s such a humbling yet eye-opening journal prompt TBH. Don’t expect the best if you won’t show up as the best version of yourself. Like… if you want the best, you have to be the best version of yourself as well.

What you also need to let go of Pile 1 is your hyper-self-awareness. Granted that it’s great knowing what your strengths and weaknesses are but there is such a thing as too much. I heard, “A healthy balance is key” in your case. Sorry for the call out Pile 1 but from the second card as well, your perfectionistic tendencies are slowly making themselves known. You might have these “all-or-nothing” tendencies, like a “black-or-white” mindset sometimes. It seems you have high standards for others and yourself, so you tend to intellectualize your feelings instead of feeling them. Again, apologies for the call-out Pile 1.

The last card feels like a desperation for external validation. Like, you feel you always need someone to impress or win over to feel like you’re good enough. There’s this unworthiness wound that needs to be addressed. Also, chronic people-pleasing tendencies to the point of immediate self-sacrificial tendencies. Pile 1, you need to learn to let go of this unhealthy thirst for external validation. Because the moment you lose your “audience”, you feel lost and listless. You need to remember that you are worthy of love, happiness, and success in life because you exist.

Pile 2:

Pile 2: 2 of Cups, Tower, 10 of Swords, Strength

I’m saying sorry in advance Pile 2 but the first thing I heard was, “You need to learn to be happy alone.” Pile 2 either is the type that can’t stand being single or is a hopeless romantic that has more fictional crushes than actual human relationships. (Apologies to all the romance genre bookworms all over the world). This pile falls under those two categories~

So for the serial daters, it seems that you need to take a bit of a break/pause and assess what do you want in a partner, your non-negotiables and negotiables. You are asked to don’t say to every person that asks you out. Also heard that, don’t date just because you’re bored, lonely, or have a lot of time to spare. Basically, you are called to only get into a relationship for the right reasons.

Now for the hopeless romantic who prefers fictional men to real men, I understand that you might have heard stories or had experiences that made you always choose the bear every single time. Those horror stories are an unfortunate reality for people into men. But I can’t, in my good conscience as having nephews, say that all men are despicable human beings. Granted, not all men but still they’re men. So… what I’m saying here is, that your fictional boyfriends would want you to actually experience happiness through real human interactions too. So yup, keep your guard up to those who wear their red flags with pride, but do try to give a chance to good men out there.

What you also need to let go of Pile 2 is your destructive coping mechanisms whenever you feel triggered by your traumas. Yes, I’m sorry to have it break it to you. You kinda felt this would eventually be mentioned, right? You are aware of your own destructive tendencies when triggered. You are aware that you unintentionally hurt your loved ones whenever they trigger you. And you also know you want to stop hurting people in the process. If therapy is expensive, try searching for somatic exercises and eft tapping. You don’t always have to swallow a pill to get better at managing your anger issues and self-sabotaging tendencies. You just have to give yourself a safe space to be able to honor and validate your feelings/pain/trauma. Treat yourself as gentle and compassionate as possible, like you would a child who’s just learning how to walk and talk.

Lastly, you are called to let go of your arrogance. I’m really sorry for the call-out Pile 2 but the cards have spoken. It’s great to know within yourself that you can walk your talk but you might have the tendency to bulldoze anyone that crosses your path. This might even cause an issue with authority figures. There’s a fine line between arrogance and confidence that you need to learn to master. It’ll help with the harmonious dynamics between you and your coworkers.

Pile 3:

Pile 3: 10 of Wands, 6 of Coins, Queen of Coins, Wheel of Fortune

Pile 3 feels like my burnt-out workaholic pile from the get-go. Being burdened by too much on your plate. Pile 3 might actually tend to take on other people’s problems. I understand you want to help out but you need to understand that you have limits too. You are asked to let go of the burdens that aren’t actually yours to begin with. You’re also asked to reprioritize your needs and responsibilities first before even considering helping someone else with their problems. I kept hearing, “You can’t pour out of an empty cup.”

Why does it feel like Pile 3 is my overly giving and generous pile? Sweetheart, please… I get how you want to help others out and give whenever you can. Just don’t forget to keep some for yourself, okay? I’m not asking you to stop being generous. I’m asking you to discern who genuinely needs your generosity and who is abusing your kind and loving heart. Unfortunately, not everyone deserves you and your generous heart.

Pile 3, your pile really has me crying and whimpering, “Please stop letting people walk all over you.” No wonder y’all are burnt out, you are the most loving, generous, and nurturing souls in the world to the point of being easy prey for abusive, manipulative narcissists. I’m begging you Pile 3, discernment and boundaries. You’re so nurturing and caring to the point of ignoring someone’s red flags. So… you have to actually learn how to have healthy boundaries and practice discernment. Don’t entertain the idea/potential of a person and see them for who they really are.

The last card feels like you need to let go of being too much of a “going with the flow” to the point of not taking charge of your own life, Pile 3. I understand you’re adaptable and know how to roll with the punches, but it also feels like a drifter with no roots. Always letting yourself be carried wherever the wind blows, can be interpreted as letting people dictate how you should live your life. It seems that pile 3 tends to take a passive approach to living your life. I understand that people who are of authority claim they want what’s best for you, but that’s what’s best based on THEIR values and preferences, not YOURS. So… please Pile 3, take the time to figure out what do you actually want to do with your life, in your own way. You are not just someone’s child, not just someone’s sibling/parent, not just someone’s friend/classmate/coworker. You are your own person, with a heart that feels and a mind that can think for themselves.

Pile 4:

Pile 4: 2 of Coins, 6 of Swords, Knight of Swords, Chariot

The first card of Pile 4 feels like you need to let go of only prioritizing your needs while disregarding your desires. It’s great to know how to be practical and resourceful, but you tend to only focus on nurturing the physical and basic needs, you tend to forget your emotional needs too. You tend to forget that you can let yourself enjoy your life while you work hard to provide for yourself and your family. I’m hearing, “self-care” is something you need to prioritize. Don’t just say, “Oh, I can just enjoy the fruits of my labor later” then realize your knees can’t even be stable enough to carry your body to your bathroom. The last I heard from the first card was “Go on a vacation and treat yourself while your body is still able to live and move with ease.”

The next thing you need to let go of is your cut-off game, specifically your tendency to ghost people. It seems that Pile 4 is quite quick to cut people out of your lives without notice. It seems that pile 4 also tends to cut someone out of their life on impulse. Like, no explanation, no notice, no last goodbye. This is giving “ghosting” vibes. It’s like, the person you cut off didn’t even do anything wrong, yet pile 4 while just going ghost without a valid reason. Like, pile 4 may go ghost whenever someone is getting a bit too close to your heart and you tend to run before they even get a chance to offer any friendship/commitment. Pile 4, are you a commitment phobe?

Pile 4, what you need to let go of is your impatience. Not just towards others, but also towards yourself. The littlest inconveniences make you lose your cool quicker than a mic drop. Not everyone is capable of keeping up with your demands and requests, not even you. So please, learn to be more understanding and patient with yourself and other people. I understand that you want to just go-go-go, but you need to know that you shouldn’t bulldoze your way through life. Learn to pace yourself by taking the time to smell the roses. There’s nothing wrong about going after what you want to get done, but you just need to remember that you don’t always do everything perfectly in the first try. You too make mistakes. You too need time to learn from your mistakes and become a better version of yourself. So please, show yourself and others the same compassion and patience you wished someone would give you.

Finally, the last thing pile 4 needs to let go of is “being controlling”. I’m really sorry for this call-out Pile 4 but you must have heard this from someone else before. Just because you know what’s best and know how to do it best, it doesn’t mean you should always take the reins and just control everything and everyone to bend into your will. Your way isn’t the only way to do things. You might be surprised that there are other ways to go about a task with minimal damage and effort. So please, let go of the concept that you have to always take charge and always be the leader.

Thank you for trying out my PAC reading. Feel free to give me a feedback on how your pile resonates with you.

[moonstruckme]

And then I have one but idk which marauder to make it for so I’ll let you pick whoever you think it fits better. I have to take medicine for my OCD and anxiety but it’s embarrassing. So I’m like imagining who you pick staying the night with the reader and her skipping her medicine because she’s embarrassed but being off medicine messes you up. So clearly the reader would be alittle down and out of it so her friend asks her if she’s okay and if she took her medicine. Welllllll the marauder hears that and later that night when they are getting ready for bed he simply hands her a glass and asks her to take her medicine please and mentions how he wants all of her that includes the quirks, need for medicine, and need for comfort sometimes too.

I decided to make this part of the Sirius x Remus' roommate saga, hope that's alright! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: some symptoms of withdrawal, reader takes prescription meds

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Apparently, even when Sirius gets you out of your flat for the weekend, Remus is still always in the middle of things. 

“I can’t believe you got him to watch New Girl,” Remus complains over speakerphone as you make yourself a cup of tea. Sirius had offered to do it for you, but you’d brushed him off, and he’d been too busy secretly delighting in how comfortable you are in his flat to argue further. “James and I have been trying to get him to watch the first episode for years.” 

“Mmm, you’ve got to start on season three to get people interested, then go back,” you tell him wisely. “I showed him my favorite episode, the one with…uh…”

You trail off, and Sirius looks at you over the top of the couch. There’s a dissatisfied pinch between your brows.

“The one with the spider?” Remus prompts knowingly. 

“Right.” You blink a couple of times, refocusing on your mug as you pour hot water in over the teabag. “That one.” 

“Well, the apartment is quiet without you, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

Sirius’ mouth curls as he waits for your response. Though he sometimes still gets jealous of the easy intimacy between you as roommates, he’s come to enjoy the entertainment value of your banter with Remus. The apartment’s just as quiet with me, you’ll say, or You don’t even want to know what kind of fun we’re having. 

But your gaze has gone distant, and after a few seconds, the reply doesn’t seem like it’s going to come. 

Sirius feels worry snake around his ribcage, a light but noticeable pressure. A few hours ago, you’d complained of a headache, and ever since then you’ve seemed in an odd headspace. You’re quieter than you’ve ever been around him, you claimed not to feel like lunch, and he’s caught you stumbling or losing track of your thoughts on more than a couple occaisions. He’d asked once if you’d wanted to go home, but you’d promised you were fine and Sirius didn’t want to push the issue. He loves having you here, he really does, but he hopes it’s nothing about being in his home that’s making you seem so…off. He’d compromised by suggesting you show him that show you’re always referencing (Remus and James were right, it actually is pretty good) in the hopes that a few hours of relaxation would help restore you to yourself, but you don’t seem to be feeling better. 

Even over the phone, Remus picks up on it too. “You alright?” 

“Mm?” You blink. “Oh, yeah.” There’s a forced cheer to your voice, and Sirius watches as you roll your shoulders as if bracing yourself. “I’m just a little tired, I guess.” 

Remus hums, the sound crackling through the speaker. “Did you take your medicine last night?” 

You take him off speaker. Sirius turns when your eyes dart towards where he’s sitting on the couch, taking the coward’s way out on instinct and pretending he wasn’t paying attention. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly into the phone. Sirius can’t hear Remus well enough anymore to make out his response, but he recognizes the slow, coaxing inflection of his friend’s voice. Your own tone sharpens in contrast, though you sound heartbreakingly exhausted. “I’ve got it. Yep, thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

You blow on your tea as you join Sirius on the couch, not a trace of apprehension about you. He extends his arm invitingly, and you slot underneath it like it’s home. 

“I gather you two aren’t used to time apart,” he teases, trying to entice a smile from you. 

It works, albeit only slightly. The curve of your lips is minute, but he’ll take it. “We’re both homebodies,” you say simply. “We’ve grown too used to being around each other.” 

“His privilege and your curse,” Sirius laments, exaggerating his grunt when you elbow him in the ribs. “Fine, you’re both very lucky. I’m just glad I managed to snag you for one weekend.” When he aims a saccharine smile your way, he suspects you set your cheek on his shoulder as a ploy to hide your blush. It melts him regardless, like ice cream in the summertime. “Want to watch another episode, lovely girl?” 

He frowns when all that gets out of you is a hum, rubbing your bicep as he presses play. 

He manages to get some dinner into you by insisting you try takeaway from his favorite Thai place in the neighborhood, and you seem amenable to the idea of an early night, all but drooping over the sink as you brush your teeth. 

Sirius will never admit it, but his heart is pounding as he takes a glass down from above the kitchen sink, filling it with water. He hopes this isn’t a massive overreach. This thing between you is still relatively new, and the last thing he wants is to make your first stay at his place awkward for either of you, but he cares about you. From what Sirius can tell, you’ve withdrawn into what seems like an unhappy place inside your head, and he can’t just leave you there by yourself. 

He catches you just as you’re leaving the bathroom, passing you the glass of water as casually as he can, as if it's the most routine thing in the world, before taking your place at the sink. “Don’t forget your medicine,” he says softly, taking his toothbrush from beside yours in the cup.

For a moment, you’re quiet. Sirius squirts toothpaste onto his brush, trying his damndest not to look for your reaction in the mirror. 

“You heard Remus on the phone.” It’s almost a whisper. Nowhere close to a question.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius apologizes, glancing up at your reflection. You’re looking distant again, your gaze fixed somewhere to the left of his face. “I’m sorry if I heard something you didn’t want me to, but it’s…did you forget?” 

You take another long moment to reply. Sirius is careful to stay quiet, giving you space as you chew your lip, but when your eyes meet his in the mirror you look so crestfallen his heart nearly stops. “I didn’t forget,” you admit. “It’s just so embarrassing, I didn’t want you to know.” 

He can’t stay still anymore. His toothpaste drops with a wet smack into the bowl of the sink when he sets his toothbrush on the rim, and he’s got your hands in his in a second. “Sweetheart, what do you mean?” He keeps ahold of one of your hands, letting his other one coast up your arm to your shoulder, where his thumb massages your collarbone familiarly. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s just, it’s something you need to be yourself. Like…my sparkly doc martens, you know? Or Remus’ chocolate hoards.” 

Your laugh is brief, more a huffed exhale than anything, but Sirius grins at you nonetheless. His hand moves up to cup the back of your neck, thumb soothing over the edge of your jaw. 

“You know what I really like about you?” he asks. You don’t look inclined to answer, but your left brow flicks up as if to say Go on. “Everything.” 

You scoff, seeming lighter even as you pull away from grasp. “Shut up.” 

“No, really,” he insists, vying for your hand back. “Getting to know you, it’s been amazing. Every new thing I learn is just something more to like.” You finally stop fighting him, eyes wary as he grips you by the shoulders, keeping you in place. “I want to learn everything there is to know about you, whenever you’ll let me. And I know I can’t expect it all at once,” he says, voice dropping into a more sincere register, “but I want all of it, including the parts you think—wrongly, I might add—are embarrassing.” He gives your upper arms a light squeeze. “Got that, pretty girl?”

A light blush colors your cheeks, and Sirius grins. You’re getting harder to fluster these days, but he delights in making it happen whenever he can. “Okay,” you say, still a tad sheepish for his liking. He plants a kiss on your cheek. 

“Good. Now go get your meds. I don’t want you passing out during breakfast tomorrow because of withdrawal.” 

“That’s not how it works,” you snipe, but he hears the rattle of pills as you dig through your overnight bag. 

“Whatever,” he says breezily, picking up his toothbrush to put a new dollop of paste onto it. “I just can’t reckon with the idea that Remus still knows things about you I don’t. Shouldn’t I outrank him by now?” 

“You’ve had roommates,” you tell him, coming back into the bathroom with the glass of water half empty. “You’re really going to tell me that they don’t know more about you than I do right now?”

Sirius makes a noncommittal, muffled sound, pointing to his toothpaste-filled mouth as excuse not to answer. 

“Right,” you say drily. “Maybe we should call your pal Remus and see if he happens to recall.” 

Sirius has never spit so fast in his life. 

[widowbitessting]

Bedtime? What Bedtime? A Sugar Mommies Drabble

Prompt: Reader/baby reacting to getting a bedtime after not resting enough in one of her exam periods.

Word Count: 908

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom! Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

“A bedtime?” You say, eyes nearly bulging from your head. “What am I? 4?” 

“The way you’re acting right now, yes, yes, you are.” Natasha replies. 

“I am not going - no! No way! That’s ridiculous! Wanda, back me up here!” 

The older woman just shakes her head and holds her hands up in a mock surrender. 

“Normally I would, but this time I actually side with Carol and Natasha; baby girl.”

You glower at her. How could she? 

“I am not having a bedtime.”

“How much sleep did you get last night, detka?” Natasha asks. You open your mouth to reply, a cocky response on the tip of your tongue, your inner brat riling up, ready to swing; but when the red head raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrow, your brat vanishes in a puff of pathetic smoke. 

“I - why is that important?” 

“Because your dom is asking you, that’s why.” She replies. “Now answer the question.” 

“...I don’t see why I have to…” 

“5.” 

“What?” You stare at Wanda. 

“4.

“What is she doing? Why is she counting?” 

“3.” 

“...Wanda…” 

“2.” 

“Answer Natasha’s question, Y/N. Your final warning before things get ugly.” Wanda says, her glare fixed just on you.

“I don’t know…I finally…I…crashed around 3…maybe 4am?” 

“When did you wake up?” Wanda asks, stepping towards you. You automatically try to step back but Carol is there behind you, blocking your body from any chance of escape. 

“7…”

“That had better be PM babygirl.” Carol whispers into your ear. 

“A-AM…” 

“So last night, you’re telling me, you slept for 3 hours?!” Natasha shouts, she really doesn’t mean to, but she knows for sure people at the local Starbucks heard her.

“Maybe? I mean…it was like a nap…”

“Not helping your case there, bunny.” Carol murumers. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think that through.” You try to move from around Carol’s body but her grasp tightens around your wrists and she doesn’t let you budge.

“Oh no, sugar.” She smirks. “You’re not getting away that easily.” 

“What are we going to do with you?” Natasha sighs. 

“Oh I know perfectly well what to do with her,” Wanda glares at you, causing you to let out a pathetic sound and burrow into Carol.

“Save me and I’ll do your chores for a month, Danvers.”

The blonde cackles, momentarily letting you go, and you take your chance. Making a dive for freedom that is short lived. Carol snatches you back up and holds you in a hold so tight that no amount of wiggling will set you free.

“Nice try, baby, but you aren’t going to bribe me that easily. Now be good, accept your punishment like a good little brat.”

“But -” 

“No buts, unless it’s yours.” Carol says. 

Your grin slides off your face when you make eye contact with Wanda. 

“Now, whilst we discuss your brand new and very permanent bedtime, you may go to your corner and kneel, and think about the apology letters that you will be writing to each of us.” 

“Each?!” 

“With no complaints.” Her tone is firm and you really have to fight the urge to roll your eyes at her. Instead, you just gape at all of them.

“I - what…?” 

“Off you go, sweetness. The grownups have some stuff to discuss.” Wanda tells you, squishing your cheeks as you pass her. “You know what to do and what position we like. I’ll come and tap your shoulder when you’re done; understood?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers squeeze just a little harder.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, mommy.” 

“Good. Off you go.” 

That night, at 9:55pm, you’re lying in bed with Wanda as she reads to you another chapter from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. You lie there, facing her, head cradled against her chest as she reads some of the dialect from Albus Dumbledore and you can’t help but shake the exhausted feeling in your body. Your eyes are heavy, burning with sleep and you fight with them to stay open. It’s when you yawn, do you catch Wanda’s attention and she leans down to kiss your temple.

“Sleep, detka. Don’t fight it. We will all be here in the morning when you wake up.”

“But -” 

“- and you can finish your work too, with breakfast if you’d like.”

“No…I wanna know what happens in the book.”

Wanda giggles, and looks down at you with adoration.

“How many times have you read these, baby?” she asks.

“...couple…”

“And yet you want to know what happens?” 

“Just call me Dory.” 

That earns you another laugh and this time, a peck on the lips.

“How about this, if you fall asleep, I stop reading immediately and we can continue on during breakfast. Does that sound okay?” 

“...I’d like that.” You yawn again.

“Good girl,” she says. “Now shut those beautiful eyes for me.”

You do as you’re told.

“And don’t forget, bedtime is at 10pm, yes?”

“Mhm.” 

“One day it might even be 10:30. But for now, 10pm works just fine I think. Don’t you think so?” 

She’s baiting you. But you’re far too exhausted to bite. So you just sleepily agree and vow to fight her on bed time tomorrow, when you’re fully refreshed. 

It’s a very good plan. Foolproof some might say. 

You fall asleep as Wanda reaches the end of the chapter and dream of nothing.

Smiling when Wanda tucks you in and settles down for the night also. 

One word on your mind: bliss. 

[bri-cheeses]

Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 3

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 662 | Part 2 can be found here |

-

“Merlin, you two are hopeless,” Regulus mutters under his breath.

Evan goes tense and looks over to see Barty’s reaction, but Barty is much too preoccupied with staring at Evan’s torso. It’s slightly unsettling, to be honest.

“Bee?” he prompts. “What are you looking at?”

Barty’s eyes climb up from Evan’s chest to his eyes, causing Evan to shiver.

“You’re wearing my hoodie,” he says.

Evan breathes in sharply.

“Oh,” he manages, then tries his hardest not to stumble over his words as he blurts, “I can take it off if you want. It was just the closest piece of clothing by my bed—” a blatant lie— “and I didn’t look at it before putting it on—” another lie— “and I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right now and—”

Barty’s hand covering his mouth cuts him off before he can start spiraling.

“It looks good on you,” he says, holding eye contact with Evan, who can feel Barty’s heartbeat against his lips. There’s something deeply intimate about the moment, and Evan doesn’t dare break eye contact as Barty slowly lowers his hand and opens his mouth to say something.

“Merlin,” Reg mutters again, because of course, “take the bedroom eyes somewhere far away from me, please.”

Evan immediately wants to scream at him, because that’s the second time today that Reg has ruined one of Evan’s moments with Barty. But the damage has been done, and he can feel the shift in energy before Barty even says anything.

“I mean, we can if Evan wants to.” Barty grins wolfishly up at Evan, eyeing him in a way that’s downright sinful. Evan tries not to feel too disappointed at the change in topic. After all, this is exactly what he had signed up for.

“Not today, Bee,” Evan murmurs as he turns back to his work. It might just be the hardest he’s ever had to try to focus on schoolwork. “I need to finish this essay.”

There’s a beat of silence as Evan scans through his previous work in an effort to resume his earlier train of thought, Barty a tempting distraction to his left. Barty tends to have this effect on him. Especially when he looks at Evan like he wants to drag him to the dorm and not let him come down for a good long while.

“Barty’s feeling neglected, Evan,” Regulus proclaims, breaking the silence.

Evan can’t help it. He looks over to the boy beside him, and sure enough, Barty’s gone back to pouting. Seriously, he needs to stop with this whole “wanting Evan’s attention” thing, or Evan’s going to get the wrong idea.

Evan aims his next words at Regulus, because it’s just easier.

“Tell him to get over it,” he says.

“He says to get over it,” Reg parrots, and Barty glares at him with enough force to make a weaker man wither.

But Regulus just blinks calmly and dips his quill into his ink pot, then writes his name on his essay with a flourish.

“Done,” he pronounces. “Now, I’m going to go get some dinner. Have fun and please don’t burn the library down.”

“Reg, we still have another twenty-ish minutes until dinner starts,” Barty points out, very obviously ignoring that last barb.

“He’s going to see Potter,” Evan stage-whispers. Barty snickers as Regulus’s face goes red.

“You know,” Regulus begins, narrowing his eyes at them, “before you said that I almost felt bad about leaving the two of you here alone together, considering everything going on between you, but now I’m actually pretty interested to see how this all plays out. Have fun dancing around each other like always,” he finishes, gathering his stuff.

Barty and Evan are both stunned into silence as Reg stands up and begins to walk away.

Only Barty recovers in time to call after him as he leaves, “Nice jersey, Reg,” and Evan groans because now is most definitely not the time.

Regulus simply gives them the finger in response, then disappears around the corner.

-

(Part 4 will be coming out on Saturday)

[cosyvelvetorchid]

buck/tommy: single dad tommy looses his son who wanders off after a fire engine. firefigher buck to the rescue

This was such a freaking adorable prompt! Thank you!

As always you can send me bucktommy, saltommy, or Tommy prompts to my ask. Fluff or smut or both. 🩶

*****

"Lucas can you please put your shoes on?" Tommy called out from the kitchen. He could still hear the cartoon blaring from the living room. More than once he'd imagined what harm he'd like to cause the person who invented Bluey. He finished packing their lunches, shoving them into his bag, and grabbed his phone and car keys before walking into the living room and turning off the TV. Lucas whined.

"You have 5 seconds to put your shoes on or you won't be riding the engine." He told him sternly. "5..4.." The 4 year old knew daddy meant business and quickly ran to the door and put on his shoes. "Good boy." Tommy smiled and lead him out to the car.

He was taking him to the annual community fire safety event they held down town. There were lots of exciting things for kids to do - rides, entertainers, and of course a chance to sit in a real engine! Usually Tommy would be working it but this year he had actually managed to get the day off to take his son.

Lucas had been buzzing with excitement about it since Tommy had first told him about it last week. He was counting down the sleeps like he did at Christmas. It had been the first thing he'd gotten excited about since his mom had died the previous year.

He was only 3 when she died and he didn't really understand what death meant, just that mommy was in heaven with the angels. But he certainly felt the loss of his mother. His personality was diluted. Tommy had taken him to a therapist specialising in grief therapy for children, and slowly but surely he began coming out of his shell more.

Evangelina and Tommy had been best friends since they were teenagers. The type of friendship where even when they lost contact for months or even years because of all the things they each had going on in their lives, when they reconnected it felt like no time had gone by.

5 years ago she had asked Tommy to help her get pregnant. She was desperate to be a mother but she was single and time was running out. They had many, many conversations about how it would work, how they would co-parent.. if Tommy even wanted to. They decided that if she were to get pregnant, when the kid was older they'd tell them about how they came to be, but until that point he would be Uncle Tommy.

As it happened, one trip the the fertility clinic, 1 donation and 1 insemination and Evangelina had a bun in the oven. The first few months of her pregnancy went like clockwork. Until the 2nd trimester when she found a lump in her breast. Cancer. Stage 3. She was given 2 options. Terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment, or delay treatment until the baby was born, which would risk the cancer spreading. She chose the latter. After many arguments with Tommy about it, he finally accepted that this was what she wanted.

Watching his son being born was the most beautiful thing Tommy had ever witnessed. He didn't think a human heart had the capacity for that much love. Sadly, within days of Lucas' birth they received the devastating news that Evangelinas cancer had spread to her lymph nodes and other organs. It was terminal. She fought like hell to live, but a month after Lucas' 3rd birthday she passed away.

"Come on, little man. Let's go see some fire trucks!" Tommy let him out of the car, taking his hand.

"Daddy look!" He pointed to a a giant Bluey mascot dressed in turn out gear. Tommy cursed under his breath. He couldn't get away from that little blue shit. "Can we go see him?" Lucas asked.

"Of course, buddy." He said with a smile leading him over. As much as Tommy couldn't stand that damn dog, the smile on his sons face was worth it. After that they rode the teacups, Lucas met some real life firefighters (that weren't his dad), he got to sit in an ambulance and blare the sirens, and he got given so many free stickers Tommy was already imagining having to remove them from the furniture at home.

There was one more thing to do and that was to sit in an engine. Except, what Lucas didn't know was that Tommy had organised with Capt Nash of the 118 a surprise ride in the truck. But first lunch needed to be eaten. A hangry 4 year old was not what anybody needed to deal with on a Sunday afternoon.

They found a picnic table and Tommy handed Lucas his sandwiches and chips. But in the rush trying to Lucas out of the door he'd forgotten the drinks.

"Shi-shoot!" He corrected himself. Trying to police his swearing wasn't easy now that Lucas was of an age where he repeated everything he heard. Thankfully there was a booth in the picnic area that served drinks.

"Lucas, I'm going to get us something to drink. I need you to stay right here, okay? I'll just be over there-" He pointed to the booth no more than 7 or 8 meters away "-you can see me the whole time."

"Okay." Lucas sang.

"You stay here, okay? You must not get off this bench. Do you understand?"

"Yep." He replied, peanut butter and jam smeared all around his mouth. Tommy walked to the booth, looking back every few seconds to make sure Lucas was where he should be. The lady in front of him in the line dropped her purse, spilling it everywhere. It only took Tommy 10 seconds to help her pick everything up but by the time he stood back up and looked to Lucas he was gone.

His heart immediately thunder against his chest.

"Lucas?!" He called out running over to the table. "Lucas!" He looked around. He was nowhere to be seen. Panic began to set in. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. This had happened before in a grocery store a few months before and after Tommy spent 15 minutes freaking out, multiple calls over the annoy and a call to the police, Lucas was found at the other end of the store watching Bluey on one of the TVs.

There were tonnes of things at this event that a child would gravitate towards. He probably made a beeline for the Bluey mascot or an engine. No, Tommy wasn't going to freak out yet. He'd look for a few minutes first then get security.

***

"Buck have you given away ALL the candy?" Eddie asked.

"What? They're all just so adorable I couldn't say no!" Buck tried defending himself.

"You're such a push over." Eddie told him. "I'm gonna go get a coffee. I'll be back in 5." Buck waved him away as he bent down to the 4 year old standing in front of him.

"Hi" He said with a big smile. "Whats you're name?"

"Umm.. I'm not s'posed to say. You're a..a stranger."

"Thats good thinking. You're absolutely right." Buck looked around but there were no other adults in the vicinity that looked like they could be this kids parents. "Hey Buddy, are you parents here?"

"My daddy brought me to see the firetrucks." The kid told him.

"Well that's a cool dad you have, huh? Hey do you known where he is? Can you see him?" The boy looked around and lifted his hands up in an exaggerated shrug.

"Okay. Well you see this?" He pointed to the radio on his chest. "This is my very special radio. I can talk to some very cool people and maybe they can find your dad. How does that sound?"

"Okay." The boy said.

"Do you think it would be okay if you told me your name? That way I can tell my friend on the radio and it will help us find your dad." Buck asked. The boy thought about it for a second.

"My name is Lucas."

"It's nice to meet you Lucas. My name is Buck. You wanna sit in the truck while I radio my friend?"

"Yeah!" He said excitedly. Buck opened the door and lifted him up onto the seat, before getting on the radio. "Hey Cap?"

"Captain Nash here. What is is Buck?"

"I gotta kid here that seems to be lost."

"Im with Sergeant Grant now. Can you describe the kid?"

"How old are you buddy?" He asked Lucas.

"Im 4"

"He says he's 4 years old, names Lucas. Dark curly hair, wearing blue jeans and a black tshirt with a helicopter on it." He spoke into the radio.

"This is sergeant Grant. We have the father here. Where is the boy now?"

"I've got him in the engine."

"Keep him there, we're on the way."

"Good news, your dad's on the way." He told Lucas.

"My daddy is a fireman too." He said

"He is?"

"Yeah. He.. he flies helicopters too!" He said pointing to the picture on his shirt.

"Wow that is very cool!" Buck said. "You wanna put the lights and sirens on?"

"Yeah!"

"First things first, before we go to an emergency we have to be safe. So.." he grabbed a helmet from the back and gently placed in on Lucas' head. "There we go, now you're ready. See that button right there? Press it." Lucas leaned forward and pressed it and the sirens rang out.

"Woah!" Lucas cried out with a big smile. Buck smiled back, his heart melting at how adorable this kid was.

"Daddy!" He shouted pointing through the windscreen. Cap and Athena walked towards the engine with an unfamiliar man. Something shifted in Bucks stomach at the sight of him. He was tall, with a large muscular frame. A piece of his dark curly hair had fallen onto his face. Buck suddenly felt nervous. Buck switched off the siren.

"Lucas?" The man called as they reached the engine.

"Daddy! I got to put on the siren!" He said as Buck removed the helmet from him and lifted him down. The man bent down to his eyeline.

"Lucas, how many times have I told you, you cannot wall off like that? It really scares daddy when you do that." His voice was soft but strained. He hugged the boy tightly. Bucks chest tightened at the image in front of him of a scared father.

"Im sorry daddy."

"It's okay buddy." He kissed the top of his head and stood up. His eyes met Bucks and he caught a breath. The man in front of him was gorgeous. As tall as him with a slightly smaller build but long legs. He had an adorable pink birthmark by his left eyebrow underneath a head of gentle dirty blonde curls.

"Were you the one who found my kid?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah. Bu.. Evan. Evan Buckley."

Evan. Tommy couldn't help notice the similarity. Evangelina was all about signs from the universe, which He'd always waved away as hocum. But now..

"Tommy Kinard." He responded, somehow feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Thank you. For finding him." He smiled. Something about those smile lines around his eyes made Bucks heart beat a little faster.

"He actually found me if I'm honest." He laughed. Tommy looked at his son.

"I need to put bells on this kid I swear." He said. Buck smiled and Tommys mouth went dry.

"Hey Tommy, you still want that surpise thing?" Bobby asked walking over.

"So long as my kid stays in the damn truck, sure."

"What surpise?" Buck asked confused.

"Well-" Tommy said lifting Lucas up into his arms "-how would you like to go on a real life ride on an engine?" He asked Lucas.

"Can I daddy?" Lucas asked practically vibrating.

"I don't know. What do you think Captain Nash?" Tommy turned them to face him.

"I think that would be okay." He smiled.

"Well let's go then!" Tommy said to Lucas putting him the back of the engine.

"Buck, Eddie is dealing with a broken ankle by the teacups, so I need you to jump in." Bobby told him.

"Got it Cap." He jumped in the back as cap got in the drivers seat. Tommy buckled Lucas in, they he snd Buck sat either side of him. They caught eachothers gaze and held it for a few moments. Something sparked in both of their chests.

"You ready, kid?" Bobby called from the front.

"Yeah!"

"Here we go!" Bobby put the sirens on and turned on the engine.

[villain-crown]

heart | @jegulus-microfic | words: 855

* I’m running late on the prompts whoops

critical care, part 6 (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7, part 8, part 9)

a Jegulus nurse!AU

“Wow, he’s mean.”

“I’m meaner,” Regulus replied and holy shit James believed him.

He could picture it now: Regulus, a relentless, demanding little thing on top of him, sinking onto James’s cock with a vicious hiss and riding him until he was spent. He would be so small but a force of nature all the same, wrapping James’s heartstrings around his little finger like a leash.

Bloody hell, he’s going to look amazing on our Christmas cards.

“Were you just waiting for me to get angry?”

“I was waiting to see if you could,” Regulus corrected, licking a bit of cream from his spoon. James watched the pink tongue dart out, give a good, long lick and disappear past plush lips once more.

I’m not meant to survive this lunch.

“So you and Riddle used to…?”

“Used to,” Regulus replied carelessly.

“What happened?”

“He asked Sirius if he could fuck the both of us at the same time. Not a good look.”

James gaped at him, thoroughly distracted from his lascivious thoughts. “What!?”

Regulus set his spoon to the side. “It was before Sirius got together with Lupin. He was sleeping with half the hospital and every now and then one of his conquests would decide they wanted the matching set. So now Sirius loses his shit at anyone that looks at me sideways and I get the pleasure of sneaking around behind his back like this.”

That… made a lot of sense actually. James had just assumed that Sirius was being baselessly paranoid but there was something a bit bittersweet about it now. Sirius loved Regulus more than anything or anyone. He must have felt very guilty for putting his little brother in that position.

“I’m sorry.”

Regulus frowned. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

“It’s just… what you say.” James cleared his throat, switching topics. “But why did you want to see if I could get angry?”

“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t wrong.”

“About?”

“You manifesting the right attitude to fuck me.”

Even though James had very blatantly been hoping for it, the direct statement made him choke hard. “What!?”

“I like it rough,” Regulus explained calmly, making James work hard to will the beginnings of arousal away. “With teeth and nails and words. I don’t see anything wrong with it, but I understand that not every guy can deliver.”

James suddenly pictured a naked, sweating, panting Regulus on all fours under him with James’s teeth digging into Regulus’s smooth, warm shoulder as he took him from behind in harsh thrusts. It wasn’t James’s usual style—he liked looking at his partner; liked a bit of connection. But he was only human and what else was he supposed to do but agree if Regulus wanted a little pain with his pleasure?

There was something else that concerned him, however.

“Do you think Riddle’s angry enough to tell people?”

Regulus looked disinterested. “Riddle doesn’t scare me. He understands that the only power he has over me is whatever I decide to give him. If he turns me in to HR, I’ll turn him in too.”

“Mutually assured destruction.”

“No, actually, because I can get another nursing job tomorrow. He’s in a competitive program that lasts two years. He can’t afford to get kicked out. He wouldn’t get another cardiovascular fellowship with a sex scandal on his record. If anything, he’ll try to protect me to protect himself.”

Gorgeous, vicious little thing, James thought admiringly.

“I’m not being unreasonable. If he doesn’t want any problems, he just has to keep his mouth shut. It’s not that hard.”

“And you’re good at that sort of thing, are you? Keeping your mouth shut?”

Regulus just looked at him. “I make a much better impression with it open.”

“I bet you do.”

“So?” Regulus picked up the spoon again, idly pressing it against his tongue. “I already know you’re interested, so let’s not kid ourselves there. The real question is if you’re too scared of my big brother to fuck me the way you obviously want to.”

And that really was the question, wasn’t it? Sirius would lose his mind if he found out, that was a given. If he didn’t take a hit out on James, he’d at least refuse to ever speak to him again.

Objectively, this was a very obvious choice.

He should be running away screaming at the very suggestion of engaging the Slytherin like that.

…But fuck, Regulus was fit.

Like, expensive fashion magazine meets dirty wanking material fit.

This is really sort of Sirius’s fault, he tried to convince himself. The way Remus had told it yesterday when James had struck up a very ulteriorly-motivated conversation on the subject, Sirius had practically raised Regulus and had no spine whatsoever when it came to denying him anything.

“He’s never even heard of the word ‘no,’” Remus had concluded with a fond roll of his eyes. “Sirius spoils him rotten.”

And James would be out of his fucking mind to say no to him too.

“…You know what? Fuck it. I’ll fist fight Sirius every morning in the parking lot for the rest of my life if I have to. We’re doing this.”

[steddie-island]

Through the Pines

Combined prompts for week 2 of @softsteddieseptember (road trip, dreams of the future, confessing your feelings) and @steddiesmuttyseptember (soft and slow, bruise, backseat) Rating: E | WC: 3,016 | Tags: Pining, not actually unrequited love, idiot 4 idiot, wingman Robin Buckley Divider credit

Find the rest of the fic and the complete list of tags on ao3!

Saying goodbye to Steve was never going to be an easy thing.

Eddie had known that even before he'd agreed to go on the college tour with Steve and Robin, when he'd agreed to look at dorm rooms and apartments with them.

There had been weeks of listening to the two of them make plans about what they would do in the city. There would be new coffee places, bars, classes where they would meet people who would get to know the two of them— get to know Steve— in a way that Eddie never would.

It hit him the hardest on the mornings when he was the only one still awake, when Steve was passed out in the passenger seat, the sun warming his face and bringing out the golden shades of his hair. At least Eddie got to see him like this. He wouldn't get to see Steve in a little cafe in Seattle, but he got to see the golden boy drooling onto his own shoulder and hear the little breathy sounds he let out when they hit a bump in the road.

This was temporary, Eddie had known that from the beginning. At least now there was an entire catalogue of moments from the summer that felt so small and inconsequential— Steve and Robin throwing gummy worms at each other, Steve sitting on the hood of the car while they ate greasy diner food, Steve starfished out on one of the motel beds with his face smushed into a pillow and his glasses pushed up into his hair— tucked away in the back of his mind, hidden in the darkest corners to be pulled out when he needed to feel warm again.

It was their last night together, and Eddie found that he was having to pull those moments out now, as he stood smoking and watching the dying light of the sun.

There was Steve, stripped down to his underwear, running towards a lake with Robin following after him. Steve, laying on the ground on one of Eddie's t-shirts, letting the sun dry him off.

Steve, tucked close into his side in the backseat while Robin was the one behind the wheel. They had touched from shoulders to knees, and Steve's fingers had settled warm and heavy against his arm. Eddie pictured the way Steve had breathed out as he'd drifted off to sleep, and he let the smoke pass through his own lips in time with the memory of Steve's breathing.

It had startled him at one point, how many of these cherished memories were of Steve sleeping, but that that was the only time he could look his fill. He could let his guard down and didn't have to worry about how much of his heart he wore on his sleeve. It was one thing to joke, to make big boy comments and shoot little winks at each other when Steve was awake. It was another beast entirely to stare in a way that he knew could only be described as wanting.

"He wants you to stay with us, you know."

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

PRIDE MONTH PROMPTS 2024

They are here!!

Last year I released them in May, and I asked you when I should release it this year. You agreed I should release it early/mid april. And I think the perfect time is now! You have plenty of time to prepare your things for June!

So, here are 30 prompts, 1 prompt per day, for all of June! Use them for writing, or for art, or why not for something else creative you can come up with?

I will now write all the prompts in the list if it's hard to read, plus some explanations/suggestion what you can do for them.

Day 1. Actually, I'm not straight. Someone kicking off pride month by telling their nearest and dearest that they aren't straight, like everyone seems to think!

Day 2. Surprise! We're dating! A couple comes out to their friends ;)

Day 3. Early signs. Early signs someone was not straight, or not cis. Or both!

Day 4. Gender euphoria. Euphoooooriaaaaa forever to end of time /j Ok no but yeah, someone experiencing gender euphoria :) It's great :)

Day 5. Surprise! We're engaged! Surprise engagement! Did people even know they were dating?

Day 6. Proposal. You can choose to show the proposal for the couple at day 5... or a brand new couple! :D

Day 7. Pride flags. Are they making pride flags? Buying pride flags? Identifying pride flags? So much you can do! :)

Day 8. Prideful baking. A return from last year! Who's baking? Are they doing it with pride? Are they making rainbow cakes? This is also a way to make some ships be cute together as they bake.

Day 9. Wedding. To quote Sam from Glee: "YEAH! COME ON GUYS! GAY MARRIAGE GOOD!"

Day 10. Shenanigans at the Pride Parade. Time to let those characters run wild at the pride parade!

Day 11. Coming out as trans. Pretty self explanatory I think ;)

Day 12. Planning for a child. Two women, two men, maybe a trans couple... any not-cishet couple are planning for a child <3 Are they adopting? IVF? However they're doing it, they're gonna get that child :)

Day 13. Two moms. Two mommies thriving with their kiddos!

Day 14. Are they dating or not? People are speculating the relationship of some people.

Day 15. First crush. Aww, someone's first crush! Have they ever felt this before?

Day 16. Alternate universe. Go crazy with this! This could mean anything from "a universe in which this ship is canon" to "they live in a fantasy world". Do whatever!

Day 17. Realizing they're ace. Self explanatory ;)

Day 18. Two dads. Two daddies on request (Sorry I've watched too much of Papás por encargo (Daddies on request) to not make that joke). They'll do anything for the kids!

Day 19. I thought everyone liked both? What??? They don't?????

Day 20. Fruity sleepover. Anything and everything can happen at a sleepover!

Day 21. Pining. They pine so hard and yet... will their crush ever notice?

Day 22. Secret dating. Or are they as they secret as they think? How much chaos do they end up in to keep this?

Day 23. Dinner. Maybe just a normal dinner in a queer friendgroup. Or maybe someone coming out at dinner. Maybe the first dinner at their partner's house. Or maybe someone's making dinner for their loved one.

Day 24. Confession. Coming out confession? Confession to your crush? Just a confession about your favorite food in the middle of a pride parade? Yeah, you decide!

Day 25. Date. THEY'RE ON A DATE THE BABIES!!! Is it a good date? I hope so!

Day 26. Gender is a construct. Not everything is binary.

Day 27. Queer group meeting. You can toy around with this a lot. A group meeting with closeted gays? A group meeting with every character from your different fandoms that you headcanon as bi that you want to interact in the group meeting for disaster bi's? A group meeting for aces just vibing? Maybe we'll meet a lot of different groups!

Day 28. Accidental coming out. Oops!

Day 29. Alternate time period. You want to play out a little love story but instead they live in the 1950s? Or maybe they live in the future! Maybe they live in the medieval times! Woah!

Day 30. Growing old together. Look at them now. Who knew they'd find each other in the world and now they're here?

I hope I'm gonna see some of you in pride month! It's always a pleasure! Also, when the time comes in June, and you want to use one of these prompts, don't forget to tag me ;)

[taintedtort]

prompt ✧ how long they last during NNN

characters ✧ albedo, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, childe, itto

warnings ✧ gn!reader, suggestive, no nut november

authors note ✧ i know november is over already, and i didn’t plan on actually writing this prompt… but i caved. it’s a tad late but that’s ok

ALBEDO

✧ lasts 2 weeks. he’s usually busy with experiments, so when kaeya suggested this idiotic game to him, he reluctantly agreed. he had a feeling it wouldn’t be difficult at all for him, seeing as he’s artificial and doesn’t fully comprehend or have human emotions. but he was proven wrong. the first two weeks were fine, he stayed occupied like normal while still giving you the soft attention you needed. but on the two week mark, you were both getting ready for bed and it suddenly hit him. his mind was unoccupied with work matters and simply just took over with thoughts of you. you and your cute, slightly revealing pajamas. you and your soft lips. you and your beautiful moans as he pleasured you beyond satisfaction. he lost the challenge that night,

“such a tease… did you do that intentionally?”

KAZUHA

✧ 4 days. kazuha is a true romantic, and part of that romance comes intimacy. it’s a big thing for him and he can’t go without it for very long. he did try though, he knew the other crew members who forced him to participate would make fun of him for only lasting a simple four days. he’d never live it down. but god he just couldn’t help himself, everything you did unintentionally turned him on. and it was all your fault for looking and sounding so cute when you called his name, innocently requesting his attention. he couldn’t help the plagued thoughts of you underneath him, calling out his name as he made you see stars.

“you were tempting me, i just couldn’t help myself.”

SCARAMOUCHE

✧ the entire month. out of sheer will and spite, he’d be determined to throw his victory in childe’s face. he only agreed after a lot of name calling and teasing, but he’ll be damned if he looses. then again, he’s so extremely clingy in private, he cannot keep his hands off you. and you had needs of your own! he couldn’t just take away that valued part of your relationship for an entire month! you’d intentionally tease and poke at him, begging for him to pay attention to your needs for at least one night. but again, he’s spiteful so he refuses. once december hits (he stays up till 12:00am to watch the date change) he’s on top of you and stripping your clothes off.

“times up, come here.”

XIAO

✧ 3 days. he tried to make it to five, but ultimately failed. it honestly just wasn’t a lucky day. he’d gotten back early from slaying demons, something that doesn’t often happen, and he wanted to spend some time with you. usually when he has off time, you two end up fucking. but with the challenge at hand, he tried not to. he really did, but just couldn’t help himself. everything about you was so inviting; your alluring eyes, your plump lips, your divine body, your seductive voice. it was impossible to ignore you.

“you’re so beautiful, i can’t hold myself back.”

CHILDE

✧ 3 weeks. god it was absolute torture for both of you. after the first week, everything you did got him worked up. it got to the point where he couldn’t touch you without getting hard. he was determined to win though, knowing scaramouche felt the same way. after making such a fuss about his friend being “too scared” and “having no self control” he knew he couldn’t loose. that victory would be so sweet. but alas… his dick just couldn’t take it, and the lack of affection you two were not receiving got to the both of your heads. you ended up having multiple rounds.

“fuck— i can’t do this anymore.”

ITTO

✧ less than a day. when he accepted the challenge, he was so sure he’d win. “easy breezy!” he said, completely confident. that was until… the two of you were finally alone. once you kissed his mouth after stepping inside your shared house, he couldn’t help it. his usual roaming hands were just as shameless as always. when it started to get a bit too heated you pulled back, asking about the challenge. he was confused at first, completely forgetting he had agreed, then just shrugged and continued.

“i won’t tell if you won’t.”

[erinwantstowrite]

Ok so I have a couple of questions to ask

1. Do you have like a ‘warmup routine’ for writing? I know that you mentioned it a little before but is there any way you could expand on that?

2. Do you have a favourite comment on one of your fics or LOF?

3. What is your favourite thing to draw?

4. Can we see a picture of your cat? (Here is mine as an offering)

Her name is pinky :>

1. i do!! i have a set up to it so i go into a writing sesh prepared af. i look through my outlines and my notebook and go over everything in there to prepare myself for what i plan to write that day. i often leave notes to myself like "don't forget xyz" or "this would be funny!" i reread what i wrote in the last session to refresh myself and i go through to edit it, making sure the set up is still good so i can continue. then i go ahead and figure out what my word count goal is for the day (usually 2000). sometimes to get myself into the writing mood before i work on LoF, I do "warm ups" with writing other fics in my drafts/one shots/random prompts and see what that gets me

2. not a specific fav comment, but i do REALLY love the essay comments and the note takers. people always apologize for long comments but i love them SO much!! it's so fun to see what particularly strikes chords with y'all, what makes you laugh/cry/etc. it also helps me to gauge whether a chapter turned out alright or if there are parts that ended up confusing. and theory comments are also super fun. some of y'all get SOOOO close and others come up with some really interesting stuff! sometimes i get hate comments or people in my asks that aren't very nice, and i go back and read the nice comments to remind myself that there are people who LoF resonates with, and that's always worth it :) comments make my day and keeps me motivated sometimes when i feel down

3. i've been working on incorporating comic book style shading into my art lately. i realized i particularly enjoy it and it makes my line art have more depth. i've been really into trying ro emulate my fav artists and expand from "characters on a background" to art pieces that make people think of a story

4. ABSOLUTELY!!!! Mr. Handsome deserves the spotlight!! your cat is SO CUTEEE!!!

im fond of the "he took this photo actually that's his selfie" photos

[beegalactica]

How I journaled every day in 2023, and you can too in 2024

I heard someone wants to become "that girl" in 2024...

Well, let me tell you, "that girl" is the type of babe who embodies consistency; consistency in her thoughts, feelings, words and actions. Now one of the ways I have personified this aura of consistency is through frequent inward reflection through journaling.

I know, we've heard it a million times now. And with the new year approaching, it's so easy to set the intention to journal every day and do it well. News flash, my love, you must do much more than just set the intention. Let me tell you how I did it so you can do the same ~

Equipment

Believe me, I've tried it all: countless notebooks, diaries, bullet journals, apps, all of it, but this past year, only one app *stuck* for me, and that is Notion. Whether you prefer to journal with a good old pen and paper, or even if you prefer to make a big Google document, go for it!

The reason I settled on Notion was its table view/ calendar view database features. I liked being able to add properties like what rating out of 5 I would give my day or being able to label whether I was on my period, or any major milestones. I found that these labels made it really fun to look back and laugh at all the crazy things that I came up with, and reminisce over those 5/5 star days when I really felt like that girl. (see example below)

What the hell do you write about?

"You can write about whatever you feel like!" is the usual response, and while that's great if you're anything like me, you'll need more detail than that. I opted for some classic prompts that I would simply respond to at the end of every day, but if you want to freestyle it, try some shadow work prompts, or even just sum up your day in one sentence, you are more than welcome to.

My prompts were:

1. Three wins of the day: 2. One thing I learned today: 3. One thing I will do tomorrow: 4. Am I worried about anything? 5. Favourite thing of my day: 6. Song of the day: 7. A story from today: 8. An affirmation for my mind to sleep on:

You don't have to write paragraphs upon paragraphs if you don't want to, and some days, it might be hard to even think of three wins, but an it girl can be present and celebrate the endless blessings in life, even when it seems like there are none.

How to be consistent?

Going back to the central theme of this post, consistency, it is important to acknowledge that no matter how pretty you make your journal, or how thought-provoking your prompts are, the most important thing is to actually do it.

Life is fluid, it's never going to be linear. Some days you'll feel amazing, gorgeous and ready to take on anything, but other days you'll just wish you were a flower instead that doesn't have to deal with anything. That's just life. Some days, the last thing on my mind was my silly little journal, but I knew it was something I needed to do for myself, so I took 2 minutes to write a few sentences down, even when I'd rather be doing other things.

How to maintain your consistency:

Set reminders - at the start of the year, I had 2 reminders every day to journal; after the first few months, I cut it down to just one at 9pm, and by the end of the year, I was just doing it because it had become a routine for me.

Reward yourself - at first, you'll just be able to say you journaled for 1 day, then it will be 2 days, then slowly up to 1 week, 1 month, and soon you'll be like me, bragging about how you did it for a whole year! It's an accomplishment! Never lose sight of that.

Be kind to yourself - ultimately, this should be something you do for you and you only, so if you miss a day, it's not the end of the world. Every now and then, I didn't journal for a day - maybe I was too busy, or just exhausted by the time my day was over - so I accepted it and caught up first thing the next day. You make your own rules.

JUST START!!!!!!! - do it! Even if you mess up, start again and again and again! Nothing changes if nothing changes.

What's the point?

You've read this far, and you may be wondering, what's the point of journaling?

Well, I can confidently say that journaling changed my outlook on life immensely. 2023 was the best year I've had so far. Yes, there were setbacks: I lost friends that I thought would have forever, I struggled with my mental and physical health, and I reached points where I thought I was too low to get back up. But recording little bits about my day every day showed me, with actual tangible proof, that I will always get back up. I also had some amazing moments this year: I started a whole new school and era of my life, I made amazing friends, I fell in love with myself again and I found my voice.

Journaling has helped me to see the little positives in everyday life. Even when a situation seemed absolutely awful and I thought that I could never recover from it, I developed the mindset that not only could I recover, but I would absolutely recover. This new mindset helped me to laugh at myself in moments when a previous version of me would've shrivelled up into a ball and disappeared from the outside world.

Looking back over my life these past 365 days has helped me cultivate a new outlook on life, where I don't see setbacks as obstacles or barriers to my success, but as little stories to journal and laugh about when I inevitably overcome them. If that isn't the most it girl attitude to have, then I don't know what else is!

Journaling changed my life, and I hope that it can change yours too! Happy 2024! 🎀

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 7

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

As he slid into the booth Jason was glad he had taken Danny's advice on wearing "Mid 2000's American chic". Clad in dark wash jeans, a red Henley shirt and his leather jacket he waited for Danny to come back with their order of "Nasty Burgers". He wasn't particularly excited about the name, but after sparring for four hours he was starving.

"One Double Nasty Burger with Nasty Fries and a chocolate milkshake for you and the rest is for me!" Danny returned to the table with his arms stretched longer than should be possible with four trays of food. He placed one in front of Jason and kept the others for himself. Jason raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You sure you can eat all that?"

Danny smirked, grabbed a fist full of fries and declared "Watch me," and shoved his whole hand into his mouth in an almost cartoon logic sort of way.

Jason gaped for a moment before he chuckled to himself and picked up his burger. It looked like a regular burger, so he took a bite and - dammit it's delicious! He finished his bite and reached for the fries - eh, pretty mid.

"You were right about the burgers, this is delicious. However, once we figure out if or when we can contact my home dimension I am taking you to Batburger and your are gonna try the Jokerized fries." Jason finished his statement gesticulating with a fry before he popped it into his mouth.

"As long as your paying." Danny said, himself gesticulating with a fry. "I mean, flying around and doing ghostly shit is pretty taxing, so I'm always down for food, especially of the high calorie kind."

"Fair enough." They lapsed into a comfortable quiet for a while. Danny quickly worked his way through four Double Nasties, three large fries and two milkshakes.

Jason remembered something he had seen at the training grounds. "So I know we can't use projectiles on each other, but I noticed targets at the grounds. Any chance we can spend the afternoon practicing our aim?" Danny raised an eyebrow at him and Jason rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you want to spend the afternoon trying to one-up each other?"

"Sounds like a plan, dude." Danny took a long slurp of one of his milkshakes. "So, what do you think of my sister?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jason startled at the shift in topic and blinked. Am I about to get a shovel talk? I should probably be serious then. "I think she is very kind and genuine in her care of things. I think she's acting as Atlas and I think it's been that way for longer than she's been Regent. I think she probably should take one if not multiple days off." He brushed the salt from his fingers onto his jeans and licked his lips before speaking again. "I haven't really been able to have a real conversation with her yet. Mostly we've kinda just given each other a summary of our lives and a brief discussion about books after our discussion in the library last night. I've interacted with you more than I have her, but from what I've seen of both of you so far, I'm impressed."

Danny looked at him, his green eyes intense, as if scrutinizing his very soul. He very well might be doing that actually. Jason did not flinch at the inspection, everything he had said was genuine.

"Hmm." Danny took a loud slurp, finishing off that milkshake. He set it aside and grabbed the other. "Do you find her attractive?"

Jason did not waver as he responded. "Just because I do doesn't mean anything without her approval." Danny narrowed his eyes further and took a sip so long Jason wondered if he had to breathe.

Jason sighed. "Fine, I may try and make myself a bit more aesthetically pleasing to her to try and catch her attention besides that I am a person in need and would gladly take pointers if you aren't completely against me attempting to woo her."

Danny smirked. "I knew it! Ha, take that Johnny!" He whipped out a clunky looking device and sent off a message in a group chat. He then leveled Jason with a look. "K, so, I may be new to the whole 'reading souls' thing, but when I took a look as you were talking nothing looked off and I've enjoyed hanging out with you so far today so I'm going to help you." As Jason perked up, Danny held out a hand. "I'm just gonna say this right now; I am not a miracle worker. I'm going off of evidence from past crushes and boyfriends here and it's been years since her last one. She's been a bit too busy for romance with all the training and then everything that happened.

"Anyway, you're on the right track with the biker aesthetic if this is more like your every day clothes. If you had a bike to go with it then we can likely get your foot in the door. I mean, you've already got a leg up on her last boyfriend with talking to her about books." Danny paused in eating his fries. "You know what? Let's rain check on the target practice, I'm gonna take you someplace we can get you a ride. We'll kill three birds with one stone, you get more of the biker aesthetic, maybe you can get Jazz to go on a ride with you, and you can move around the Zone without needing one of us to guide you!" Danny shot off another message to his group chat and then promptly finished off the last of his fries. "Come on, let's head over!"

Jason gathered all the trash and dumped it away as he followed Danny out of the restaurant. Danny grabbed Jason by the shoulders and flew off from Amity and towards a segment of floating land that looked like a winding road.

"It's gonna take a bit to get there at normal person speeds. Mind if I speed this up a bit?" Danny looked down at Jason.

"Go for it, I'm used to flying with the Supers and they can move at light speed."

Danny looked at him shocked for a moment. "Man, your dimension sounds so cool!" At the last word Danny's entire being seemed to flicker brighter and the freckles on his face spun around and were shaped like stars. He cleared his throat, embarrassed for a moment. "I can't go nearly that fast, but my top speed should get us there in five instead of thirty minutes." With that he took off.

Soon enough, Jason saw quickly approaching what appeared to be a brownstone not unlike those from any major US city with an apartment above two businesses. A garage and a stylist's from the look of it. Standing in front of the place was a couple, a blonde and very pale man in a mechanic's jumpsuit covered in various stains, and a very pale woman with green hair and bright red leather jacket and skirt.

"Hey Phantom, so this is the poor schmuck?" The blonde asked after Danny placed Jason back on his feet.

"Hey Johnny, yeah, this is Jason. Poor guy got sacrificed to Jazz of all people." Danny replied with all the air of a younger sibling. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure he left his bike in his home dimension, mind hooking him up with a ride? I don't want to have to carry him everywhere and I doubt a ghostly horse is gonna do it for him." He stuck his thumb out, pointing at Jason behind him.

Johnny seemed to be sizing him up, his arms crossed before he eventually nodded. "Fine, but it's going on your bill." He turned to head into his shop. "See ya later Kitty, I got a big project apparently." He kissed the woman before he walked into the garage.

Jason made to follow, but Kitty stopped him. "If you ever need some styling you come to me okay kid? And if you make the Queen cry, I can make men vanish with a kiss." She patted him on the shoulder before sauntering back into her shop.

"Yeah, Kitty got close with Jazz after a fight she had with Johnny one time. It's kind of weird because when Jazz was dating Johnny, he was trying to get it so Kitty could possess her to exist in the Living Realm. It was a whole thing, but it's behind us at this point." Jason blinked at Danny's back as he floated his way into the garage. Okay then, just casually drop horrifying lore why don't you? Jason followed him inside.

Danny was floating over Johnny's shoulder as the man was drawing up basic schematics.

"Standard Court specs?" Johnny asked the floating High Prince.

"For liminal humans for now yeah. We haven't had the chance to bring him to get a full scan done to find his classification yet."

"Hmm. Okay, hey Sacrifice, get over here, do you like low riding or tight riding?" Jason joined them at the table and they spent the next few hours planning out Jason's ecto-bike. "Looks good, it's gonna take me a bit, but I can get it to you in a week, two tops if I can't get one of the parts. I'll hold off on the engine until we know what your classification is, if you produce your own ecto then we'll need a sample for it." At Jason's hesitation he continued. "It just means that it'll be more self-sustaining and you can summon it to your will. It'll lock-on to your ecto-signature."

"Cool, do you think it'd work in my home dimension? Or will I have to leave this beauty here if or when I leave?"

"Possibly? I mean, at the very least you are death-touched and that kinda manifests ectoplasm in universes. It depends on how much ambient ecto there is around. It doesn't run on gas, it runs on ectoplasm." Danny butted in. "Either way, it'll be good to have here, and who knows, if you have to leave it, maybe you can still come visit?"

"Yeah kid, I'd like that." Jason replied.

Danny smiled. "Cool, well, we gotta head back for dinner. Lunch Lady is making baked Mac and Cheese tonight and I am not missing getting the corner servings."

"See ya around Johnny! Thanks for this by the way."

Johnny waved him off. "Eh it's no big deal, I make all the rides of the Royal Family. You being sacrificed means you're probably bound to this craziness for eternity." Johnny looked at him seriously for a moment. "Do better for her than I did, K? I know that won't take much, but she's been through Hell and back and she deserves someone to take care of her for once."

Jason nodded back, determination set on his face. "If she lets me, I will."