#WOW it feels good to use those tags again

[lillaydee]

The Unlucky One Part 9

Joel Miller (No Outbreak AU) / F Reader

When it comes to love, Lady Luck seems to have lost your address. After being left at the altar without so much of an explanation, you decided love is no longer something you are interested in. Not even meeting an unlucky-in-love-himself Mr. Grump could change your mind.

Right?

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WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Idiots in Love, unlucky in love, Child Abandonment, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us)

@peelieblue, @vickie5446, @harriedandharassed, @lovefreylove @martuxduckling @kikookii @liciafonseca @wowitsafemale

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 8

---

It was as if time froze. There, standing in front of your door, was the woman who birthed you, the one who made your entire existence unbearable, the one you had not seen in five years, on purpose. And next to her, was her chosen daughter, the one she got just to prove how worthless you were, the one she had raised to hate you, to take everything from you, the one who did take everything from you.

Something was not right though. Your mother had that snide smile you always saw on her, but Nell… she seemed… off. Tired, perhaps?

Your mother made to step into the threshold, but Joel, upon realizing who they were, body blocked the door, telling them they were not welcomed at your house. His expression changed as he did so, cringing a little, before fixing it and starting to close the door.

“I am her mother, I have every right to be here. Who are you to decide whether or not I can see my own daughter?”

“Doesn’t matter who I am. I know all about you, Esther. You are not welcomed here. Ever. Now, leave, before I call the cops and have you trespassed.”

“Oh, are you her boyfriend? Wow, Aria, you move quickly! What was it, three months? Since you got unceremoniously dumped at the altar? You managed to turn off yet another man from committing to you, and now you’ve snagged up another one to turn away? Are you looking for another man to turn gay? What, two wasn’t enough for you?”

It was as if you were stuck in some unbelievably dense fog, you couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear anything else but her. All the insecurities you had about the men you had been involved with romantically came rushing back. Suddenly your fuck all attitude about Joel seconds ago disappeared, one of caution took its place – what if he left you too?

Joel turned around and looked you straight in the eyes. But instead of the sharp daggers he had given your mother, one that was soft, assuring, landed on you instead. Suddenly, those doubts disappeared. You now just felt tired, and extremely unwilling to entertain your mother’s antiques. You had been without for five whole years, you were not going to let her do this to you again.

You gently pushed Joel aside, telling him you had this. He took a step back, took his phone out and called someone, telling them to get there as soon as possible. As you neared the door, his cringing expression from earlier made sense.

There was a foul stench coming from your mother and adopted sister, enough to make your body recoil. You drew back, shocked at what you were smelling. Nell kept her head down, hands clasped together, avoiding your eyes at all costs. It was so strange. Where was the prideful, snide, smirking little girl who kept telling you she won all those years ago? Your eyes suddenly landed on what they had near their feet. Suitcases.

For some reason, your mother took your taking over as a sign that you’d be accepting of her presence, and began picking up the suitcases, one foot into your house.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your expression stern, unfeeling, stepping back forward, causing her to retreat, stumbling a little as the suitcase bumped against her legs.

“I’m coming inside. I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yeah, that was on purpose. I have no intention of letting you in, I don’t know what made you think I would, but you are wrong. Get off my stoop, mother, or I will call the cops.”

“Hmph… you dare stop me from coming into my own house? The one you bought with my inheritance?”

“Gramps left me his estate, mother, not you. You fought for it and lost, remember? You ignored my presence my entire life, you even said you wished you had aborted me. So why are you here? Ran out of money?”

“Where is he, Aria?”

“Where is who, mother?”

“Eric. I know you know where he is. That man owed Nell four years’ worth of child support. I know you are in touch with him. I know you talked him into leaving my poor baby to raise their child alone. Where is he?”

You made a show of looking around, asking her instead where this supposed child was. Surely, if she cared that much, the child would be here? Nell’s head got lower. What was going on with her?

Your mother’s face was beet red, looking as if she was about to implode. Footsteps came rushing towards your house, Maria, Tess and Tommy came barging in, further blocking the two from coming in, standing in front of you, Maria nudging your mother out of the way.

“Holy fucking hell, what’s with the BO ladies?” Tess exclaimed, hand up to her nose, face crumpled from the smell emanating from the two. Tommy brought his arm up to cover his nose too.

“Not all of us have the luxury of a daily shower, okay? Especially when our inheritance was stolen right from under us! Must be nice, Aria, to be living like you do, to be able to just up and leave, buying houses and going on fancy vacations on a whim. How do you sleep at night, knowing you did all this with stolen money, huh?” you mother snarked, the stench becoming so much thicker as she spat on all of you. She opened her mouth further, wanting to say more, but Maria’s voice piped up.

“Esther, if you don’t leave right now, I will go scorched earth on you. I am close personal friends with the DA, the chief of police has weekly lunch with me, the judge is married to my boss. I can get the all the cops in Austin here within minutes if I choose to. You might want to get your sorry, stinky ass away from my best friend right now before I go all Hail Mary on you. You may have been able to get away with bullying Aria all this while because thanks to Bill and Frank and your parents, she grew up to be the sweetest, most trusting human being alive, but guess what? I am not. I have zero qualms rearranging your face. So think how you want to proceed, Esther, you have five seconds to decide. Five.”

Your mother’s defensive expression faltered for a split second, but she picked herself up and began pushing Maria out of the way. Tess stepped up.

“Woman, I grew up with these two big strapping lads right here. I was a scrawny kid. Ask them how many times I beat their asses into submission? I can take them, I can take you, no problem. I survived domestic violence, I can survive you. Maria, your connections could keep me out of jail, right?”

“Any day, sister. Four.”

You felt Joel’s presence behind you even before he placed his arms around you, kissing the back of your head as he did. Nell looked at his arms around your waist with what you could only decipher as longing eyes, before clocking your eyes on hers, looking back down at her feet.

“Three.”

Your mother huffed, picking up the suitcase and pulling Nell by the arm, the latter picking up her own suitcase meekly, following your mother silently.

**********

Tommy shut the door as Joel engulfed you in a hug. Tess had gone back to Sarah, who was sternly instructed to hide under her bed during the confrontation. You couldn’t stop crying. It was as if your bravery during those few dreadful minutes simply escaped your body the moment they left and fear took over. Joel held you tight, whispering it’s okay, they’re gone, you’re safe, over and over, lips firmly on your temple as your body convulsed from your sobs.

“I didn’t know you knew the DA and had weekly lunches with the chief of police. And I thought your boss was a single gay woman, isn’t the judge a man?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t, she is, and he is. But they didn’t need to know that,” Maria answered, the words easy, just gliding off her tongue. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, even if your heart was still hammering from fear, so thankful that your best friend was the lying badass that she was.

An urgent knock on your door rattled you back into silence, only to be subdued when Kyle’s urgent voice called your name. Maria had called him as soon as Joel called. He and Ethan came in as soon as Tommy opened the door, asking if everything was alright, panic clearly all over their features.

“How did they know where you are?” Ethan asked as the five of you settled down, you with a large glass of whiskey in your hands. Your mind going to that man you kept seeing.

“I think I am being followed,” you said with a small voice.

“What?” Joel sat up, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure. But I kept seeing him around. He wasn’t watching me or anything, so I thought I was overreacting. I just felt silly telling you.”

“The next time you see him, tell me immediately. And you are not going anywhere alone. One of us will keep you company.”

“Excuse me?” you bristled, the whiskey making you forget that mere minutes ago, you were practically shaking out of fear in his arms. “Who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do? Contrary to what my mother thought, Miller, you are not my boyfriend. And even if you were, what right does that give you to control me or my movements?”

The room was deadly quiet. You looked around, expecting someone, namely Maria, to back you up. Show Joel he was being unreasonable. But no one did. You looked at Maria, silently telling her to say something. But she just took a deep breath, telling you Joel was right.

“Babes, a man followed you, and the next thing you knew your mother and sister appeared on your doorstep. He’s right. Look, I’m all for girl power, independent women and all that, but this sounds dangerous.”

“I’m gonna come here for work, okay? I’ll set up here in the living room. You can stay in your office,” Ethan said, rubbing his now cast-free leg from the soreness of running out of the house and towards your door earlier.

“I’ll come by for lunch, bring food,” Kyle added.

“We’ll bring dinner,” Tommy said, Maria nodding, “We’ll just have dinner here, bring Sarah along,” he went on, Joel nodding along as well.

“I’ll stay here with you at night, don’t like the idea of you being alone,” Maria concluded.

You couldn’t believe it. These people were ganging up on you. As if you couldn’t take care of yourself? They went on discussing how they could ensure your safety amongst themselves as if you weren’t there. You went into your kitchen, threw back the rest of the whiskey, pouring yourself another, downing that one too. One more for good measure, you thought, as you tipped back the third one. Your buzz quickly turned into a fog, and the voices of the meddling people began to sound like mumbles. Good. You wanted to drown their possessive and misogynistic chatter. You know what, one more. Why the fuck not? Maybe the mumbles would turn into silence. You were in the midst of taking the fourth pour when Joel’s gentle hand stopped you, taking the glass away from yours.

“I think you’ve had enough for the night,” he said, placing the glass on the counter.

“Oh, fuck you, Miller,” you retaliated, turning around to face him.

Damn, he’s tall. And so solid. And smelled so good, the planned chastising you wanted to give him went flying out of your head the longer you stared at him. Fuck, he’s so handsome. And he was so good in bed. And the best kisser. The best sex you’d ever had, too. Oh… you could just kiss him and see where the leaves fall. You were about to kiss anyway, before you were so rudely interrupted by your mother, you would have been a few orgasms in by now, if memory served.

But your thoughts were shut down when he lifted you up and brought you upstairs, carefully placing you on your bed. You remembered him stroking your hair before leaving, and all was dark.

**********

You woke up with the worst hangover you’d ever woken up with in your life. Shit. That was all it took for you to get this hungover? Your mind wanted to shout at yourself for being such a lightweight, but every thought that came to your head thumped on your brain as if they were a jackhammer. You turned away from the window, a bottle of water with a post it note coming into sight. Take us, the note said, your eyes clocking the two Tylenols next to the bottle. Moving as slowly as you could, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, your brain wobbling dangerously in your obviously too large skull, and took the pills, washing them down with three quarters of the bottle at one go.

You got up to pee, almost falling headlong into your bathroom door tripping over something. You looked down.

Oh, not something, someone.

Joel.

He was sleeping on the floor next to your bed, curled up from the lack of blankets or pillows. He woke up when you tripped over him, hand immediately out to stop you from falling.

What the fuck was he doing sleeping on your bedroom floor?

But your bladder was screaming, so you went into the bathroom to take care of your morning needs, coming back out to him sitting on your bed, hands on his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You sat next to him, eyes still squinting from the hangover. “Why did you sleep here?”

He looked at you, a smile on his lips. “You asked me to.”

“I did?”

He nodded.

“Well, why did you sleep on the floor? Not like we haven’t shared a bed before,” you were blushing, and you didn’t know why.

“You were out of it. Didn’t trust myself not to take advantage,” he said, a cheeky smile forming on his sleep riddled face. You laughed, smacking him on his arm, before putting your hands on your head. That dangerous wobbly feeling in your head, although lessened, was back, and it’s making you cringe.

“Plus, I didn’t want you to wake up alone. You okay?” he asked, pulling you gently into a side hug, lips landing on your temple.

“Hungover, but I’m alright.”

“I’ll make you something to eat okay? Let me just use the bathroom.”

“Okay. Spare toothbrush in the drawer,” you said, as he helped you up, pulling you into a full on hug. “Thank you for staying.”

“Of course,” he said, kissing your hairline, before disappearing into the bathroom.

You stepped out of your bedroom to a smell of coffee brewing, sounds of cooking and smells of eggs and bacon filling your senses. Maria must’ve stayed over, you thought. Bless her for cooking. You were starving. You went downstairs, careful in your steps, trying to minimize the brain wobble as much as you could, turning into your kitchen.

An older woman you had never seen before was cooking in your kitchen.

You screamed your head off, hangover brain wobble be darned, reaching out for the nearest weapon, making the woman jump. Sounds of doors opening and running footsteps came thundering down, Maria and Joel appearing by your side within seconds.

Joel relaxed when he realized who it was, telling you it was alright, before going over to the now smiling woman, kissing her on the cheek. “Hi Mama.”

Mama?

Oh shit.

You could feel Maria freeze alongside you. The lady took a once over of the both of you.

“Good morning ladies. I’m Anita Miller. And you two must be the women making my boys so happy these days. Breakfast anyone?”

**********

Maria ran back upstairs, mumbling something about getting dressed. It was only then you realized she was in a tank top and panties, having run out when she heard you scream.

You did not dare move. Still standing stock still where you were, trying hard to make sense of what was happening, your head thundering with blood from your own scream. Joel appeared next to you, a coffee mug in his hand, gently guiding you to the kitchen island, placing the cup in front of you before coaxing the flimsy plastic hand fan you had grabbed as a weapon of choice out of your hand.

Anita placed a plate of food next to your mug, sitting across from you. You stared at the plate as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen in your life.

Joel joined the two of you after a few minutes, placing plates of food in front of his Mama, next to her and in front of himself, taking the seat next to you, pushing your own nearer to you, silently asking you to eat.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Miller, for screaming and trying to attack you,” you mumbled, not daring to look up.

“Oh, that plastic fan would’ve slit my throat, I’m sure,” she said, a glint in her eyes meeting you as you finally looked up. She took a deep breath when she saw a small smile on your face, “And please, call me Anita. Tess told me what happened, are you okay honey?”

You nodded, suddenly mortified that the first time you were meeting Joel’s Mama was when you were experiencing the worst hangover of your life. Maria came back down, dressed, and clearly freshened up, taking her seat next to Anita. She introduced herself properly to her, which then reminded you that you hadn’t in fact, done so. The four of you began to eat in near silence after that, until Anita remarked on the great coffee.

“It’s from Bali,” Maria said, “They call it Kopi Luwak.”

“Oh, so this is the shit coffee!” Anita remarked, causing Joel to splutter, spraying coffee everywhere.

After that, it was as if you had known Anita forever. She had heard the story of Joel’s near demise upon finding out the origins of the coffee, taking great pleasure in asking you to repeat the story from your point of view, Joel steadily growing redder and redder next to you as he ate his breakfast. It didn’t help that she repeated your version of the story to Tess and Tommy as when they brought Sarah over, Sarah proceeding to walk around with her fingers on her cute little nose when she’d heard about the coffee.

Your breakfast was interrupted by your phone ringing – your Dad on the other side, worried out of his mind that you hadn’t responded to any of his texts or calls. You had to explain to him what happened, him finding out from Kyle, Ethan or Maria would’ve been disastrous for you. He flipped out nonetheless, immediately started talking about moving weeks sooner than expected. Took some coaxing, but he managed to breathe a bit easier when you told him you had an entire village looking out for you, just as Kyle and Ethan walked in, pastries in hands.

And then your Dad told Frank what had happened, and the coaxing had to be repeated. Frank insisted on speaking to Joel, and you had to stand beside him as he told Frank that he and Tommy were ‘already on it’, and that it should be done soon. You asked him what that was about, only for him to kiss you on your nose, telling you not to worry about it. He and Tommy needed to go out for a bit, you’ll be okay with everyone else right?

You looked at your very full kitchen, where people who were not related to you by blood at all were gathered, all there to make sure you were alright after the revelation of last night and told him you would be.

You spent the rest of that day getting to know Anita better. She was charming and bubbly, someone who took no time at all warming up to people she had just met. She told you she had been away visiting some relatives in another state, but she usually came over to spend time with Sarah every weekend. She came in last night, apparently, when you were long gone from those four stupid glasses of whiskey you’d decided was a great idea.

She decided she would stay once she heard the report from Tommy. She openly asked Kyle to tell her everything about your mother, so she could be prepared, just in case. And boy oh boy, did he tell her. He told her everything he knew about your mother. Heck, he had known the woman since he was a child. He did, after all, grow up with you. The whole town knew about your mother. It was an open secret that she treated you badly. The only consolation was that she never laid a hand on you, and that was only because she knew your Grandpa was steadfastly on your side. When the story got to the bit where you went off to college, Maria started filling in, remembering all those break ups and heart breaks you endured from your mother and Nell’s doing, and when the story got to Eric…

Well, let’s just say, if her face was anything to go by, whatever she was thinking really shouldn’t be written out on a fanfiction on an open internet forum.

Oddly, you just stood by, never once interrupting or bothering to defend your mother. You remembered doing so with Andrew when you started dating, telling him that she was just stressed, that she was angry at the world, that she was just acting out. Now though, it was as if whatever love you had for her and Nell, whatever hopes you may have held out for, had completely dissipated. Being without them these five years really made you realize how much better off you were without them. And you would really like to keep it that way.

You only started speaking again when Andrew came into the picture. Her expression softened when you got to Bali, taking your hand and Maria’s into hers, telling you she was glad someone bought the four of you drinks that first night. When she hugged you, you felt something different, but couldn’t quite put a finger to it.

She recruited you and Maria into making lunch with her, brushing your concerns of being extremely talented at burning toast off. Joel and Tommy returned when lunch was about to be served. When asked where he went, he said you will find out the next day.

He stayed with you again that night, after tucking Sarah in. This time, he slept on the bed with you, offering to create a wall of pillows between the two of you. You agreed, but miraculously, you woke up in his arms, that wall of pillows forgotten on the floor.

The next day, you woke up to strange men gathering outside your house, Joel and Tommy giving them instructions as the men took notes. You went outside, bleary eyed, asking him what was going on.

A security system, he said. He was under strict instructions from your Dad to get one set up at your house. He and Tommy had called in a favour with some of their friends, they came out on a Sunday just for you. You were about to retaliate when he told you it was either the security system, or your dads would rent out their newly bought house and move in with you, pool and all.

That shut you up really quickly.

As Tommy continued with the security people, Joel pulled you aside. “Are you okay with all this? If you’re feeling overwhelmed…”

“No, I mean, it is a little overwhelming, but I get it. I can see you doing the same for Sarah.”

He nodded, “Within a heartbeat,” he said. “And us coming over, crowding you, my Mama, me, sleeping over…”

“No,” you said, a little too quickly. “I like you guys being here. I understand if you would rather go back home, though, I mean, we haven’t really decided on anything,” you looked down, worried that he might no longer be interested with all the drama and going-ons in your life.

“Nope. You are not going to scare me off, Aria. I want it all with you. I’m serious.”

He leaned in, caging you against the wall of your house, his face so close to your own, eyes darting to your lips. He leaned in further, and you closed your eyes in anticipation. Who cares if the security people can see you, right?

“Yoo Hoo! Good morning!” a chirpy voice jolted the two of you out of your early morning fantasies. Lucy came running towards the two of you, that cheery smile on her face, a huge paper bag in her hands.

Joel huffed a deep breath as he straightened, giving your cheek a chaste kiss, telling you he should get back to work. He walked away just as Lucy approached, going towards your front door. You straightened up to get whatever it was Lucy was bringing over, only for her to turn and beeline towards Joel instead, calling out his name.

He stopped, shoulders stiff, before turning around.

“I brought you some pastries,” she said, “I was bringing some to a friend and thought you and Sarah might want some, hi Sarah!” she called out with a smile and a wave to the little girl who had just walked out her front door, Anita in tow. Sarah raised her arms at you as she got near you, telling you she wanted to go out back and see Pa’s flowers.

Lucy walked over, wanting to say hi to Sarah properly, but the little girl told you one more time that she wanted to go see Pa’s flowers. So you started walking off, Anita following you.

“Hi,” Lucy called out to Anita, “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lucy, Joel’s friend. I teach at Sarah’s school,” she explained. Anita smiled, telling her it was nice to meet her.

“Gamma,” Sarah called out, “Pa’s flowers. I want to show you!”

Anita smiled at Lucy, turning to go with you.

“Oh, are you Joel’s mother? It’s so nice to meet you!” she exclaimed, surging forward to give Anita a hug, startling the older lady. Anita eyed Joel from the corner of her eyes, pulling back, telling Lucy one more time it was nice to meet her, but she really must go now, her granddaughter needed her.

“Oh, I’ll come with you, I’m dying to see this Pa’s flowers she’s so excited about,” Lucy said, merrily taking Anita by the arm and following you to the backyard.

Sarah climbed down from you as soon as you got to the backyard, running inside through the kitchen door. “Wait, what happened to Pa’s flowers?” you asked.

“No!” she yelled back, slamming the door behind her.

Joel came out that same door, telling Lucy she’d best be off, there was a lot going on.

“Oh, can I help?” she asked, that same smile still on her lips.

“No, we’ve got it,” Anita said, pulling your hand to go inside.

“Oh, okay, it was nice to meet you!” she chirped, bounding over to Joel, giving him the paper bag, rubbing his arm before disappearing to the front the same way you came.

“Well,” Anita said, “Is she always that… happy?” looking like she chose that word very, very carefully.

You shrugged. Joel looked like he was about to say something but Tommy called out from the front door.

You went outside, only to be met with your mother and Nell, yet again. Joel and Tommy ran outside, Tess and Maria quickly following.

“Aria,” your mother started, her voice stern, eyeing all the people behind you. “Kindly tell your dogs to back off. I need to speak to you. And only you.”

“Oh no you don’t,” a fierce voice piped out from behind you, Anita coming out the front door.

Your mother rolled her eyes. “Who is this now? Another one of your dogs?”

Anita walked over to your mother, eyeing her up and down. Sarah came running out and hugged your leg. “No! Leave Aya alone! I don’t like you!” she yelled.

“Oh, wonderful. Now she’s got children fighting her battles for her,” your mother said, turning to Nell.

Nell was still subdued. She eyed Sarah, a shockingly soft look on her eyes at the sight of the little girl. You couldn’t figure it out. Her silence was so out of character. She was usually egging your mother on. What was it? Maturity?

“Aria!” your mother barked. “Talk. Alone. Now!” she persisted, starting towards you.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Anita said, stepping in front of your mother.

“Get out of my way. I need to speak to my daughter!” you mother screamed.

“Your daughter?” Anita queried, incredulity in her tone. “From what I’ve heard, you’re her egg donor, at best. Maybe the woman who birthed her. But you’re no mother to her. You made her life miserable and you,” she barked at Nell, who visibly flinched, “You happily supported your mother’s tortures on her. I despise women like you, Esther, I despise women who gave birth and abandoned their children.”

“I did no such…”

“You may not have kicked her out of the house, but you abandoned her. Every good thing she has in her bones did not come from you. Leave, now. Before I make you. Try me. See what happens,” Anita warned, taking a step forwards, folding her sleeves up her arms, her expression fierce, taking one more step, causing your mother to shrink back.  

“You won’t have them around forever, Aria. You’d better watch your back. I’ll come back, and I’ll get what’s mine if it’s the last thing I do, you just wait!” she threatened, before barking at Nell to come with her. They climbed into a van parked behind the security guys’ truck and drove off.

When the van disappeared from view, Anita turned around and enveloped you into a tight hug.

It was then you realized what was so different about her hugs, the ones she had been giving you since you met her for the first time the day before, ones that made you feel something different that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was a mother’s hug.

You had met Eric’s mother, but she wasn’t the warmest, considering your first meeting was when you drove out to talk her into supporting Eric after the whole Nell debacle. She had shouted profanities at you, calling you an enabler.

The only motherly figure you’d ever had in your life was your Grandma, and she passed when you were still quite young. Andrew’s mother was kind to you, but her hugs for you were shallow, you now noticed, unlike the warm ones she used to give his sister. You knew right then and there you were so starved of a mother’s love you didn’t know any better. But right now, as Anita Miller held you in her arms, you realized that the last time you felt a hug like this was the night your Grandma passed in her sleep, as she tucked you good night for the final time.

You sobbed into her arms that day, as she comforted you, rubbing your back, whispering that everything will be alright. So you kept on sobbing into this wonderful woman’s arms, a woman who had just met you, but in just a day, had made you feel more welcomed than your own mother ever did.

**********

Monday came, and the swarm of people in your house was reduced to you, Ethan and Anita, the older lady insisting on coming over just in case your mother came back. Joel stayed over again, even offering to stay for the day. You told him he didn’t need to, you would be alright. The security people were coming over the next day to install your new security system, you’d be okay. Ethan was there, so was Anita, and Kyle was on the road, so he could come running if need be.

You did some work in your office, Ethan in your living room as planned. Anita was in the garden tending to your flowers, which you had no idea how to maintain. You were wrapping up a Zoom call when you heard the sounds of an engine and a rushed scuffle going on out front. You quickly finished the call, getting up to see what was going on, and the blood in your veins froze.  

The van your mother and Nell had driven away in yesterday was in front of your house, engine on, your sister running back to it, getting in and driving away. You didn’t see your mother. You ran downstairs, calling out to Ethan and Anita. Ethan came running out of the bathroom as you swung the front door open.

A little girl was standing on your porch, a garbage bag next to her, a piece of paper in her hands. She handed you the paper.

“I can’t do it anymore, Aria. Please take good care of her. I’m sorry. Nell.”

Ethan and Anita went out to the road, scanning for the van. It was gone.

You kneeled in front of the little girl. She was emaciated. Dirty. She didn’t look scared. More… resigned.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Ellie.”

---

Part 10

[printchar]

ok........... what if vox was arcade pilled

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I've been thinking and. Should I just. Merge my blogs and put everything here. Cause at first I made seperate blogs because I didn't want to bombard everyone with nonsense every couple of months about some new characters I found so I kept making seperate blogs especially cause I didn't anticipate it happening again and again but now I'm like. Should I just stick everything under this blog. Or at the very least cut it down to two blogs where I have this one and the second one can just be for my every couple of monthly nonsense where I spew about whatever I found.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

payoff of being embedded in a unit of authoritarianism since birth is sure then being able to go like "wow this is just like dynamics & phenomena i experienced up close & personal, repeatedly, in many contexts & configurations in my first two decades of life" plus also beyond that in abuse culture world & the noncoincidence that even interactions beyond the confines of the home(tm) reinforced / did not contradict the hierarchy & concomitant abuse within....but then like hey yeah also the Larger Units of hierarchy & abuse / authoritarianism (ft. their logics & practices necessary for continuously & continually shoring up that hierarchy) can also make it like hey yeah the Two Parent abusive nuclear family more like the Two Party [the US is also a one party state but in typical american extravagance they have two] where right wingness is defined by the degree of directly embracing white supremacy & "left wing" is "anything else" hence like wow The Left is always infighting (everyone with any ideas besides "umm christofascist white ethnostate?" so like yeah there are many other ideas) vs The Right's admirable cohesion (simply re: the white supremacy idea which also necessarily embraces all other Out Group / Nonperson paradigms & practices b/c that's what all already has been necessary for shoring up the [when has the US been a nongenocidal non white supremacist non oligarchy])

like obviously individual experiences & contexts vary but like narrowing in on [the Family as immediate relations ideally cordoned off into nuclear households] ft. [Parental Authority the top priority of which is preserving that authority, ideally patriarchal, an abusive mother e.g.? hey, that ought to be the father] times it's like, think people tend to struggle re: having the "nicer" / "safer" parent who was also shitted on as well but also at the end of the day would always side with the "meaner" "more dangerous" parent, even in whatever terms most sympathetic to the abused parties, with the underlying logic that we're always just going to have to deal with them so some secret strategic mitigation is the best that can be done, perhaps the equivalent of being sent a ":(" after an Onslaught Of Expressed / Enforced Authority(tm) event....the tendency to see the best in any lack of actual intervention / protection on the assumption That Could Never Happen Anyway & forever At Least that the one parent isn't as bad as the other [the Not That Bad / Could've Been Worse infocation, like free bingo square in manifestations of minimization if not outright abuse denial] & all the sympathy for, you know, being human & doing their best(tm) &c which sure might all be true but the abused parties (oft children, more vulnerable than adults, by virtue of being children i.e. considered legal property of some specific adults & theoretical property of any adults in general (the paternal logic in any "protect [xyz]" like maintain one group's supposed ownership / control over [xyz] "for their sake" then? great) & also generally smaller & newer at being alive in this world) but who are liable to not extend that sympathy to themselves (or certainly not be extended that sympathy....when is "they're doing their best / they're only human / they mean well or whatever / they love you, they're family" successfully deployed the Thwart an abusive parent like it is to tell an abused child to not be too resentful of this situation, when is it actually deployed toward the abusive parent at all really. & again in the lack of boundary between the authoritarianism within many individual family households & that of the state they exist in (here re: the US) like that naturally one encounters the logic of abuse expressed just as "common knowledge" & the Assumptions of other people, e.g. the rejection of a parent having zero access to a child, the reinforcement of automatic apologia deployed for whatever a parent could possibly do, argued for "family", yet not deployed the same way to automatically defend anything thee child(tm) could do, thinking emoji lol....see: like the non boundary between [the Patriarchal home/family(tm)] & capitalism when uh oh capitalism the system of continuously maximizing exploitation Needs various forms of labor to be unpaid, uh oh another lack of boundary when white supremacy is used to also shore up the patriarchy that shores up the white supremacy, e.g. that even if in some "inferior" class it's treated as More Important that at least you're not that And black, the theoretical ideal/normal white man is a person while a white woman is a woman while a black woman is black, white women could have any legal property via chattel slavery which needed white women's participation to help enforce, the specter of sexual violence all coming from nonwhite & especially black men & it's up to the genteel white man to Protect Women (see prev, implicitly white or you'd have to specify otherwise)

anyway that is to get around to pointing to the Two Parent System wherein so shockingly the results are the same as the One Parent System re: abuse maintaining The Family (properly, i.e. unquestionable & certainly undeniable parental access to children, & "ideally" ofc again the patriarchal Father as ultimate authority w/ownership over the Mother, who in turn is theoretically honored for that motherhood (at least you own your children, insofar as it doesn't contradict w/what the father wants to do with his superior claim to ownership) & then finally all the obviously shittiness from being in that position in a patriarchy is in turn dumped on The Children who are ungrateful & owe the mother everything Because of what the broader society & immediate personal expressions of that abuse have done to her. see also ofc that two adults likely don't have the resources to raise a child in time or money or energy, maybe there's only one but also even an extended family's worth of adults aren't enough, is it enough when a child is sent to school for some other adults to be in charge most of the day, or even if someone is hired to look after them beyond that, all this ofc with the assumed premise that a child is always limited to the various Domains of The Adults In Charge, & from there i segue into how naturally being in gay baby jail unless & until adults are no longer recognized as Legally In Charge Of You (the grand like 5 minutes it's relatively been since the ideal timeline of a woman's life wasn't being legal property of her father until asap passed along to legal property of her husband. still considered ideal ofc but like with "maybe you can have a bank account" now & "maybe you can become 29 before you're in Old Maid danger" Maybe, i said, Maybe....anyway that obviously adults(tm) being divided up (atomised. spritz) into Households isn't even supposed to be enough to live on their own, re: necessitating Marriage, much less uh oh having kids who are stuck with their parents who are stuck with them, but then all the obvious actual problems & abuses inflicted on Adults to have to have their family households & exploited jobs are dumped on the children who Must appreciate & be loyal to the parents (i.e. never Deny Access) while yknow kids have Fake Problems they're whining about, the one Real Problem of having to pay a bill gets the payoff of leverage to tell your children to shut the fuck up or perhaps the more vulnerable spouse

hm didn't segue right into "so shoutout to like The Ratchet Effect diagrams lol, the "Two" Party System where its supposed left wing Blocks Movement To The Left, right wing Moves Everything To The Right" but even that is like, mm, conferring a passivity to what democrats do in the continual movement to the right (won an election? lost an election? the lesson either way is The Right Is Right; exact same logic as in "winning or losing" "the war on crime" like the collection & analysis of whatever statistics show the trend of some "crime" is increasing in frequency or magnitude? show that it's decreasing? the lesson either way is Cops Need More Power) like the institutional effort of democrats to push a candidate nobody wants through primaries (did we even do that this time around. oh great that the assumed candidate even graciously agreed to not force themself as The Candidate, & now like 5 min left with the Next In Line candidate dumped on everyone now with the lesson for the left(tm) to shut up already lol) & then it's up to Grassroots Voters. it's up to Unity & well we all Need to listen to the white supremacists, points were made, in the "elections" with voting as limited as possible & with the electoral college & supreme court as Safeguards against democracy & here's the senate, eternally thus, & again the conclusions will always manage to be moving To The Right, paraphrasing from twitter like democrats are about to be or already at the point of "in the name of unity we will no longer be running against republicans; it's too divisive :(" which yknow is already The Statements of all of yesterday from various like "i'm the republican official white supremacy agree-er now" after also the entire campaign of "no, I'm the fascist" where like wow shocking that the appeal to the fascists didn't win a) the fascists who will ofc want the even more overt fascism, why wouldn't they or b) the people who want antifascism actually, and do not want fascism; who could have foreseen? & it's always the fault of being Too Antifascist for the actions of the fascists or the Diplomatic Comprimises the other party makes with the fascists &/or their Failure to thwart them....the Nicer, Safer party in power is surely doing their best & at least they're not the Meaner, More Dangerous one but at the end of the day they'll always side with that party over america(tm) & those bearing the brunt of the actions of State Power can be told to keep their chin up or else to stop acting out b/c how do you expect that state power to respond, cmon, you bring it upon yourself, & you Have to work with them & understand all their feelings & your role in resolving those feelings by being lesser inferior property, you do Have to understand, b/c in the end this is All About Family, surely Good & Necessary, whoops i mean in the end this is All About America

anyway yeah i'm like damn my "nicer" (also shitty) father who was also the even more sexist & racist (& certainly no Less ableist, queerphobic) parent was basically the democratic party of the Two Parent System of Family Government lol. b/c we Need to perpetuate this Family, no other logics much less actions are acceptable....& people struggling with the Parent / Adults in their life like that who were the "safe" & "protective" ones who markedly failed to protect & minimized the harm afterwards but also in general, never to confront the reality of the situation, or do damage control like "aw some points were made at all :( ah i see you have Feelings about this :( hmm yes the Parental Power is gonna have to make some changes" & then as soon as possible (assuming reeling in the party who was deviating too much) these changes(tm) are already compromised or diminished if done at all, & then oops things incrementally might be right back to how they always were, no guarantees it won't be Worse b/c the Power is even more insecure / aware of weaknesses, & the only way this is thwarted is if the Wayward Parties can actually leverage new boundaries / less vulnerability, not b/c the supposedly sympathetic parties, who never came through where it counts & likely would also become overt antagonizers / wielders of whatever power within the Family hierarchy / turn on the more vulnerable parties to Get Them In Line, actually came through. movement Away (more disruptive to the maintenance of The Family, The State) is blocked, incrementally only ever moving everything back, & then Further....& despite this being what the power structures are, & do, the Disruptive parties liable to be scapegoated lol, can't believe the scapegoat child is ruining everything for everyone, this Family would totally improve & start being everything it could be otherwise & we ignore who actually has the power & is actually enforcing the hierarchy harming everyone to point to that scapegoat; can't believe thee left is destroying america (republican voice) can't believe the left is destroying america (democrat voice) So You See? The Undeniable Consensus. just like how i believe it was my fault my family unit was Like That & i had those experiences, according to the vast majority of Input from that family & even others who, knowing nothing, would say how Lucky i was to be relatively close to home, or just of course that oh well parents love their children & mean well & try their best. just like how i believe that being treated like i've been generally as a neurononconforming person, i.e. hated & the interpersonal abuse & bullying & ostracization & [attention possibilities: ignored, responded to but negatively, interacted with to get something from] & actually rewarding interactions or just actions being liable to get Deluxe authority responses as disruptive(tm) & ofc disobedient(tm) like hell fuckin yeah lol. just as i don't think that other people who have similar experiences or ones i don't have, i.e. assessed race being automatically seen as wrong / inferior, being isolated & undermined from all around? well gotta be their fault then, cmon lol....Abuse is actually normative, not extraordinary, in every Arena of interactions, & so are the logics / apologia / assumptions

anyway lol re: like yeah people struggling with the like betrayal of the "nooo i'm on your side, i sympathize, i'm the one who's nicer & you Need so that things aren't even worse" party, not even One Big Novel betrayal, but rather that that's what's Been done the whole time & doesn't stop. that supposedly if you have Any sympathy for that party you have to be like aw :( keep doing your thing (necessarily reining everyone in) or if you have Any sympathy for the people who also want things to improve but blame & take it out on the more disruptive parties (more disruptive to an abusive family e.g., btw. & not like i see Cohesion as necessarily some Good rather than neutral? when i'm autistic / my existence is supposedly antithetical to this? or when i'm able to look at a zillion hypothetical or actual situations & recognize how "cohesion" isn't the best goal / a destructive one / a vague concept anyways like cohesion Between Whom? on what basis? recognized & pursued how? why? up next: same as vague shit like "family" or "community" &c) then it's like yep gotta be Responsible for their feelings too if you're at all sympathetic & capitulate, The Only Possible Action, vs the idea of those in power actually making things shit stopping, much less being stopped / having to stop in the various ways that can happen....one way being "oh no, adult children who choose to be no-contact with parents" which is seen as A Tragedy, & sign of a Deteriorating Society, take me back. ah jeez oh no, look at the divorce raaates....Oh No, twentysomething women aren't pursuing marriage enoughhhh....again the undetectably identical echo when people peak vaguely talk about "conflicts" that thwart "community" or whatever, ugh nobody will date anymore, commit anymore, be friends anymore, hang out as coworkers anymore, talk to me if i want to talk to them anymore, &ccccc....

the real tl;dr is like wait ""two party"" (one party) US electoral system, just like ""two parent"" maintenance of thee family lol. ratchet effect raise your hand if you've only ever experienced Movement Away from the abusive family blocked, forever incrementally ratcheted back in to the desires & pursuits of those most in power / top of the hierarchy / thus of course most invested in the abuse, that's what the power & hierarchy is made of, sustained by, perpetuates....sorry doing our best :( sorry that's just all that's realistic, no other choice Really. cmon. kind of Your Fault if you don't agree to that & whoops now Everything is the fault of whoever doesn't agree & cooperate enough :( now look what you've done & brought upon yourself :( & we'll just forget the eruption of violence suppression happened & will happen again & be the overhanging threat all in the meantime

[the-offside-rule]

Joe Burrow (Cinccinati Bengals) - Game Day and Grammys

Requested: no but someone asked about NFL imagines and the Pro Bowl and Grammys were on so how could I miss this opportunity?

Prompt: Joe Burrow x singer!girlfriend

Warnings: none other than it being long and full of fluff

NFL requests are open ♡

Y/n sat in the plush chair of her hotel suite, a stylist curling sections of her hair while another dabbed powder on her already flawless face. The room buzzed with quiet excitement—her team murmuring about last-minute dress fittings, run-throughs, and camera angles. After all, tonight was the biggest night of her career. Five Grammy nominations. Five.

But her attention? Completely divided. On the sleek flatscreen across the room, the Pro Bowl was in full swing. Her boyfriend, Joe Burrow, was out there, tossing passes and leading drives while she got glammed up for music’s biggest stage. She’d wished she could be there, but the Grammys and the game fell on the same night, and there was no way to be in two places at once.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. Another text from Joe.

Joe: This is so much fun. Wish you were here

She grinned, typing back quickly.

Y/n: Wish I was too. But you better be focused, Burrow. No interceptions.

Another buzz.

Joe: No INTs. Just vibes. Also… scored a touchdown. No big deal.

Y/n let out a laugh, her lips quirking as she typed her reply.

Y/n: A touchdown?? Damn, you haven’t scored one of those in a while.

Her stylist stifled a giggle behind her. "Good news?" She smirked. "Joe just ran one in himself." Her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Wow. The slander.

Joe: But fair.

Joe: Good luck tonight, superstar.

Joe: Ja'Marr said if you win two tonight, that makes it 9 grammys you have ever won

Joe: And guess what my number is?

Y/n chuckled at the coincidence. No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, they were always supporting each other.

Y/n: Alright, QB1. Ill get the Grammy's you worry about not getting tagged.

With one last glance at the game, she turned back to the mirror, ready to take on her own championship night.

The flashbulbs were blinding as Y/n posed on the red carpet, her dress hugging her perfectly while she effortlessly smiled at the cameras. The energy was electric; reporters calling out her name, fans screaming behind the barricades. She was used to this, but tonight felt different. Bigger.

As she moved down the carpet, she began her interviews, each asking the same old question that she had rehearsed about a million times. How does it feel to be nominated 5 times? She had been nominated for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Pop Vocal Album and Music Video of the Year. She had been to the grammys before but she had only ever been nominated twice each year. Granted, she did win them, racking up an astonishing 7 grammys in just 4 years, but her once edgey music had shifted to softer love songs, all thanks to a certain quarter back.

She smiled as she moved on down the carpet to her last interviewer, a little kid who she had seen on tik tok time and time again. "Oh my gosh, hello!" She smiled as she did her best to get down onto the kid's level. Her calf were killing her from the heels standing, nevermind squatting down. "You look beautiful. I love the dress." She said. "Thank you! And you look so beautiful too." The child replied. "I have a few questions for you if thats okay?"

"Of course! I would love to hear them." Y/n said warmly as she held her own microphone. "So, obviously this is your record for the most amount of Gammys that you have been nominated for. If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that this would be happening, what would you say?" Finally a way to answer the question of how she felt about being nominated that didn't involve her rehearsed answer. "I think I would tell my younger self to keep going, to believe in myself and don't put the guitar down because it's gotten me this far." Y/n replied. "Your album Nine Sunday Mornings was a very abrupt change in your music. It was more edgey and angsty the last time you were here-" Y/n laughed at the very blunt question. "Why do you think this change happened or is it because you just got bored of that genre?" Now that was a good question.

"I mean, as you said it was a big change. I mean any love song I wrote before was scrapped because I thought it was too sappy so I stuck to breakup songs or rage songs. I think the change came in meeting Joe. From the songs right down to the title it's all him. I remember the very night I met him I stayed up nearly all night writing about the like 5 minute encounter we had and now it's nominated tonight so. I have to give credit where credit is due." She answered. "Have you been keeping up with the Pro Bowl?" Y/n laughed, adjusting the Grammy-branded microphone in her hand. "Of course! I have it on in my hotel room. Joe keeps texting me updates, so I think I might have a better play-by-play than some of the commentators."

Her manager tapped her shoulder to tell her to make her way inside, so she bid the mini-reporter farewell and walked in to the packed venue.

Once inside, Y/n glanced around, trying to spot her team. The Grammys were always a production, but tonight, the room felt even bigger. Row after row of tables and glowing stage lights. She turned in circles, scanning the room. Where were they? Her manager, her producer, anyone?

"Y/n?"

She spun around to see Jack approaching, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. "Hey, are you okay?" She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I just… I can’t find my seat. I have no idea where my team is." Before Jack could respond, a familiar voice chimed in.

"She can sit with us!"

Y/n turned to see Taylor Swift standing a few feet away, a warm smile on her face. Taylor, dressed in an elegant yet edgy ensemble, motioned toward her table. "If you don’t mind sitting with us, of course." Y/n hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to intrude- Taylor was with her own crew, and this was a huge night for her, too. "Are you sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Of course! Come on." Taylor said, looping an arm around her gently as they started walking toward the table. "Besides, we have a lot to talk about. I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting." Y/n chuckled, relaxing a little as she took a seat beside her. "Are you going to the Super Bowl?" Taylor asked after a moment.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I’ve never actually been. I told myself I wouldn’t go until Joe is the one playing in it." Taylor’s brows lifted in amusement. "Oh that is goals."

"Plus, I’m heading to his family’s house to watch it with them." She added. "I think it’ll be more special that way." Taylor smiled knowingly. "There’s nothing like watching a game with the people who love him most. Honestly, I think you guys are gonna be there next year." Y/n nodded, already picturing herself in the Burrow family’s living room, wearing one of Joe’s sweatshirts, surrounded by his parents and siblings. It felt right. "Honestly, I don't wanna be too picky but I want a Bengals and 49ers Superbowl. That would cure the world, I think."

"That would be a good one."

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Y/n took a deep breath, ready to take on the night—Grammys, football updates, and all.

Joe stretched his arms over his head as he stepped into the hotel lobby, still buzzing from the Pro Bowl. The game had been fun, a rare chance to play a little looser, joke around with the guys, and even run in a touchdown himself—something Y/n was sure to remind him about later. His teammates followed behind him, still hyped up from the day. "Alright." Ja’Marr announced, clapping his hands. "Let’s turn on the Grammys. Gotta see Y/n win some trophies since Joe isn’t bringing any silverwear home."

Joe grinned as he nudged Ja'Marr for that dig, leading the way to the suite where they all piled onto the couches, flipping the TV on just in time to catch the ceremony in full swing. The room filled with snacks, drinks, and casual conversation, but anytime Y/n appeared on the screen, the guys would nudge Joe, who was watching intently, phone in hand, ready to text her.

Then came Best Pop-Vocal Album of the Year.

Joe sat forward, hands clasped as they listed the nominees. He knew how much work Y/n had put into this album—how many late nights, how many times she’d called him exhausted but excited, how much of her heart was poured into every track.

"And the Grammy goes to…"

Not her.

Joe exhaled, lips pressing together as he watched her smile and clap for the winner. She was graceful as ever, but he knew her well enough to see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "She said she was gonna be surprised if she got that one. She like, knew Sabrina was winning that hands down."

Then came Record of the Year.

Not her again.

"She got robbed." Russell Wilson muttered. "Bro, you're gonna be the first one singing Not Like Us at the halftime show next weekend." Lamar Jackson replied. "She's in like the toughest categories." James Cook added. Joe didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He hated seeing her not get what she deserved, but he knew Y/n. Knew she’d keep smiling, keep pushing forward. And damn it, he’d keep cheering her on, just like she always did for him.

It didn't matter. 2 down, 3 to go. Music Video of the Year.

Joe sat up straight. He knew this one mattered to her, too. Her video had been a passion project, something she’d fought to bring to life exactly the way she envisioned it. The competition was stacked—the other nominees had incredible visuals, and any of them could take it. Y/n sat at her table, her hands clasped in her lap, holding her breath. Joe could practically feel her nerves through the screen.

"She’s got this." He murmured. "She’s got this, she’s got this, she’s got this, come on, baby."

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n!"

Y/n gasped, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Taylor pulled her into a tight hug as the entire table erupted into cheers. Joe leapt off the couch, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's go! Yes! Wooh!" The suite exploded with excitement- Ja’Marr was shouting, some of the guys were recording Joe’s reaction, and others were laughing as Joe jumped up, singing along to the snippet of Y/n’s song that played as she made her way to the stage.

On the screen, Y/n’s smile was blinding, eyes slightly glossy as she accepted her award. Joe grinned, pride swelling in his chest. She’d done it. Just like she always did. "Oh my god, wow." She began. "I’ll be honest, I did not expect Music Video of the Year. There had been some amazing Music Videos so I just wanted to congratulate my fellow nominees and their directors." Joe clapped as he listened to her. "I want to thank my team, the fans, my family and all of you who voted for the video. My boyfriend Joe of course, who may or may not be still playing his game of tag football but I'm gonna thank him anyway." His face grew red. "I think that's all I have to say to be honest. Maybe I'll see you up here again pretty soon."

Joe lounged back on the couch, finally feeling like he could relax a little after all the emotional whiplash of the night ao far and he was still buzzing from it. "She’s performing next." Ja’Marr pointed out, nodding toward the TV. Joe sat up again, straightening his hoodie as the camera panned to the stage. The lights dimmed, and then—there she was.

His girl.

Y/n stood center stage, bathed in golden light, singing a balld version of her nominated song. She wore the most stunning outfit—a gold sparkling, elegant number that hugged her perfectly. She looked ethereal. "Jesus Christ." Joe muttered under his breath before saying a little louder, "Her outfit is so pretty." Some of the guys laughed. "Yeah, it is." Ja'Marr teased with a smirk. "You good over there, Burrow?" Russell asked, causing all the other guys to take notice of his blushing face and tease him further.

Joe just waved them off, eyes locked on the screen. Then, just as the song picked up, she reached down, grabbed the edges of her outfit, and-

Riiiipppp

The elegant gown was gone, revealing a bold, dazzling second outfit underneath—sleek, fun, and perfect for dancing. "Oh my God." Joe groaned, immediately hiding his face in his hands as the entire room exploded. The guys were shouting, laughing, some recording his reaction as they all clapped and cheered. "Ayyy! Okay, Y/n!" Ja'Marr called.

Joe shook his head, chuckling as his ears burned. He peeked through his fingers just in time to see her seamlessly transition into the next part of the performance, moving with ease, completely in her element. She was dancing, smiling, engaging the crowd like she was born for this moment. "I didn't know she could move like that! Damn!" Trey said.

Joe dropped his hands, watching as Y/n held the mic out, getting the entire crowd to sing along with her. She looked so happy, completely in control of the stage, like she was having the time of her life. Joe smiled. His teammates might have been teasing him, but he didn’t care. He was just so damn proud of her. As the song ended,she looked aroukd for the camera that would be zooming in on her. She spotted it and winked, before blowing a kiss right to it. Joe reached for the imaginaru kiss and put it to his heart as the guys teased him even further for it.

Joe sat back against the couch, his arm draped over the back as the next category came up—Song of the Year.

"Alright, this one’s huge." Ja’Marr said, leaning forward. Joe nodded, eyes locked on the screen. Y/n had poured everything into this song and she loved it the most for reason unknown to him, and even though she’d already won Music Video of the Year, he wanted this for her. Badly.

The nominees were stacked— some of the biggest songs of the year, including Y/n’s. The room quieted as the presenter opened the envelope.

"nd the Grammy goes to… Kendrick Lamar, Not Like Us!"

Joe exhaled, shaking his head, but before he could react, he spotted Y/n on screen, grinning and dancing along to the snippet of Not Like Us that played through the venue speakers. Joe burst out laughing. "She doesn’t seem too bothered." Trey snickered. "Bro, she looks kinda tipsy."

The whole room chuckled as they watched Y/n dancing up out of her seat singing along as Kendrick made his way to the stage. She was still clapping and smiling, showing nothing but love for the win, and Joe couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she was about it. "She’s just vibin'." Joe said with a smirk, shaking his head.

And then finally came Album of the Year.

Her final nomination.

Joe sat up one last time, his heart pounding a little harder. He could see Y/n on screen, hands clasped together, her lips pressed tight as she waited. The tension in the room was thick, even through the television.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n, Nine Sunday Mornings!"

She didn’t move.

She didn’t react at first—just sat there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Joe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room before he erupted. "Yes! Let's go baby!" He jumped up again, fists in the air as his teammates laughed, recording his reaction for the second time that night. "That’s my girl! That’s my girl!" He cheered, pacing the room as the suite filled with whoops and applause.

Back on the screen, Y/n finally stood, still in complete shock. As she made her way up to the stage, she kept shaking her head, her mouth open as if she still couldn’t believe it. She took the award in her hands, staring down at it, blinking before looking around. The crowd chuckled. She looked up at the mic, then back at the award. "What?" She squeaked.

Laughter rippled through the audience. Joe grinned, shaking his head. He could practically hear her thoughts—How? Against all those incredible albums? She took a deep breath, exhaling sharply, still looking down at the trophy. "I—I don’t even know what to say, honestly I'm a little drunk so-" Joe smiled proudly, watching her collect herself and begin her speech. She had done it. Two Grammys in one night. And even though he wasn’t there in person, he cheered for her just as loudly as she did for him on Sundays.

"I want to thank the incredible Jack Antanoff for helping me produce this album first and foremost, my team also. But there is one person in particular who I will ramble on about because he was the inspiration for every single song I wrote since the 9th of December 2023, when we first met." Joe felt his eyes watering upon hearing it. He didn’t lile seeing her cry, it often meant he would cry too. "The album itself is a hommage to the fact that it took just nine sunday mornings for us to decide we wanted to become a couple and honestly, those 9 Sunday mornings were the best I could have ever lived through because I got to fall in love with the love of my life." Joe wiped his eyes, lookong down as Ja'Marr patted his back in support. "Joe, wherever you are, I wanted you to know that this award is for you, you can put it right next to the Heisman and my other 8 Grammy's."

Joe chuckled lightly as her little dig. "And just in case this wasnt a clincidence enough already- I'm going to shout out Ja'Marr Chase for this information- this is my ninth Grammy, and its for Cinccinati's number 9." The microphone cut out, singalling that her time for speaking was up. She mouthed a very animated 'I love you' to the camera before smiling and heading off the stage.

As soon as Y/n sat back down at her table, she reached for her phone. Her hands were slightly shaking—part adrenaline, part sheer excitement. The night had been a whirlwind, and there was only one person she needed to talk to right now. She hit Joe’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as the Grammys continued around her. The line barely rang once before he picked up.

"Baby!" She let out a breathless laugh. "Joe!"

"Oh my God!" He said, and she could hear the pure excitement in his voice. "You were insane. I mean first of all, two Grammys? And then that performance? What was that outfit change? You’re trying to kill me?" Y/n giggled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Babe, I almost had a heart attack. These guys aren't gonna let me live it down." She laughed again, picturing Joe hiding his face in his hands while all his guys teased him. "I was just thinking about you the whole time." She admitted, voice a little softer now. "I figured you were watching."

"Of course I was watching." He said immediately. "Are you kidding? We had the Grammys on as soon as we got back. I was cheering for you all night." Y/n smiled, glancing down at her awards sitting in front of her. "It still doesn’t feel real. I mean…Album of the Year? What?"

"You earned that, Y/n. No one deserved it more." She bit her lip, warmth spreading through her chest. "I mean, Billie should have won it." She replied. "Oh my God, I'm gonna cry again."

"No, don't cry." He said quickly. "Not unless it’s happy tears." She laughed, leaning back in her chair. "How was the Pro Bowl? I feel like I barely got to ask you." Joe chuckled. "It was fun. I mean we lost, but it was fun."

"What was the score?" She asked. "Like 76 to 63 or somethin' like that?" He looked around for nods of approval. "Did I mention I scored?" Y/n chuckled. "Yeah and as I said before I haven’t seen you do that in a while."

"Okay, woah." He deadpanned, and she could hear his teammates laughing in the background. "I’m kidding." She teased. "I’m proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby." Y/n exhaled, her whole body finally starting to relax after the chaos of the night. "I just wish you were here."

"Yeah, I know." Joe said softly. "But I’ll see you tomorrow. And then we can celebrate properly." She grinned. "Deal."

"I love you, Baby."

"Love you too, Shiesty "

As she hung up, she clutched her phone to her chest, still smiling. It had been a night to remember— and she couldn’t wait to get home to him.

[smutoperator]

Gold Medal

Shen Xiaoting x Male Reader

Tags: 69, (very) acrobatic sex, anal, bathtub, big cock, competition, creampie, do not try this at home, footjob, goddess-like, gymnastics, lube, Olympics, queefing, splits, squirting, wheelbarrow

Word Count: 4395

You never thought you would be able to go to the Olympics. Well, not as an athlete at least. But you managed to make it as an employer, working at the Olympic Village and seeing all those world famous athletes passing through you.

One day, while doing your job, you accidentally bumped into a Chinese gymnast.

"Ouch," the gymnast screamed as you hit her. "I'm sorry," you reacted. She looked quite upset, having to prepare for her final that would be held the following day, as she wanted to avoid any injuries, but held back her anger and accepted your apology.

You were very kind to the gymnast, asking her name shortly after. "Xiaoting," she said. "I apologize once again for my mistake; I didn't intend to injure anybody," you said. "It's fine; I'm a little stressed with the final coming up tomorrow. I really want to take a gold medal for my country, and I feel like I can do it, but it'll be quite difficult," she said.

"Relax, you are going to win it," you told her, despite being absolutely clueless about gymnastics. "I can't feel relaxed," Xiaoting said. "It's really nerve-racking; I really need someone to help me," she continued.

"Can I help you in any way, shape or form?" you asked her. "I guess here's a credential to the building I am at, and this is the number of my room; meet me there in a couple hours," she said.

Using the credential lent by Xiaoting, you went up the building, wondering if this wouldn't represent any security breach. There weren't many athletes around it, and the ones who were there didn't question your presence, so you just climbed upstairs.

You reached Xiaoting's room but were unable to find her. However, you noticed a trail at the floor, following the pathway that led you to the room's bathroom. There, you finally found her.

Xiaoting was relaxing in the tub, completely naked. "Good night," she politely said. "Guess you've been working so hard these days at the village," she continued. "Definitely," you replied, a bit embarrassed looking at this sexy Chinese gymnast.

Xiaoting stood up as you jumped on the tub, kissing her passionately. But the gymnast had different plans, showing her naughty side from the get-go and touching your cock while her lips touched yours. Xiaoting was quite strong but also very aggressive, making moves as they quickly took your shirt and pants off. In the gymnastics world, her specialty may be the balance beam, but today she wanted to work on a different pole.

The Chinese gymnast quickly jumped to suck your already hard cock, showing her prowess from the start. If there was ever a sex Olympic game, I guess she could compete for a medal as well. You carried her to the bedroom and were ready to have fun with her, knowing that she had taken the right measurements not to bother anyone and that you two wouldn't get busted in the middle of it. And wow, her body was perfect, and her doll face was amazing; you just couldn't believe it.

You kissed Xiaoting from head to toe, paying special attention to her tits and pussy. Quickly, you were licking her folds while she fully spread her legs. "Oh, I fucking love that tongue, yeah," she said as she moaned. "Let me rub my clit all over it; that's right, baby, that's fucking perfect," she continued as you worked your tongue around her clit.

You feasted all over Xiaoting's fully shaved pink pussy. "Get that tongue all around that clit," she instructed you as she kept moaning and showing her flexibility with her legs. "That's it; taste my pussy; I know you fucking love it," she said.

After eating Xiaoting out, you shoved a pair of fingers in her perfect pussy, giving the Chinese gymnast the pleasure she was craving for. "OHHHHHH YEAHHHHHH," she moaned as you finger-fucked her. "You really wanna make me cum, don't you?" she asked, her body now contorting as if she were presenting her gymnastics routine during a final. "OHHHHH, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM," she screamed, closing her eyes as you fucked her pussy hard just with your hands.

More kissing ensued as you paused your finger-fucking session of Xiaoting. She really felt relaxed and forgot about the challenge waiting for her tomorrow. You went back to lick her folds, extracting more moans from the gymnast, but you wanted to see now if she could also perform her acrobatics in bed.

"Sit on my face," you demanded of Xiaoting. As her pussy lips touched your mouth, you suspended her legs up in the air, with Xiaoting spreading them and planting her hands on the bed as she lined up her mouth against your big cock.

You thrust up Xiaoting's mouth, trying to test her if she could hold her balance while getting eaten out. Truth be told, this was quite easy for her. Sometimes mere mortals like you forget that Olympians are as close to a superhuman type as it can be, as Xiaoting took your pumps up her mouth fairly easily.

To spice things up, you decided to get more acrobatic, extending your arms as her body got completely suspended in the air. But instead, it was Xiaoting who was now bobbing her head on your cock, as you used all your strength to grab her legs while she could just do it with her gymnastic skills.

"Shit, oh my goodness," you exclaimed as Xiaoting took on your cock while facing down to the bed. Never underestimate an olympian, as Xiaoting truly executes the acrobatic 69 to perfection; even in bed, her athlete spirit means she's always aiming for the highest scores and the most flawless moves as possible, and indeed, she achieves it.

"Working on my fucking cock, baby," you tell her as you drop Xiaoting down and just let her freely bob her head on it. "Oh, I love diving on that big dick," she says, spitting on your cock and having lots of fun, testing herself with a sloppy blowjob, and taking all 9 inches of you deep in her mouth.

You flip Xiaoting around, taking her by surprise as she instinctively presses the palm of her hands against the bed. But that only motivates her, as Xiaoting grabs your cock and sucks it with even more enthusiasm, handling your attempts to fuck her beautiful doll face while feasting on her wet pink pussy, quickly taking control of the situation once again.

You quickly conclude you just can't beat Xiaoting at her own game, giving her free reign to put up a scorching performance in the bed. Xiaoting is truly a perfectionist, sucking your cock in every possible way, taking it into every corner of her mouth, and driving you insane. You slap her tongue to compliment her skills. "Oh my fucking goodness, baby, you're killing me; what in the actual fuck, you look so good choking on that dick," you say.

Xiaoting takes your cock like it's just another gymnastics apparatus. Blowing that massive pipe off just feels like a routing exercise to her, as she gracefully performs movements with her lower body while sucking it as if she were doing one of those floor routines.

"This dick is all mine," Xiaoting proclaims. "The only thing better than that cock in my pussy would be a medal on my chest tomorrow," she continues, licking your shaft from top to bottom as a warm-up. "You like how I take care of it?" she asks. "Yes," it's all you can answer, as Xiaoting tongues your balls and then climbs all the way up to the tip.

You play with her hot mouth, popping your cock in and out of it and trying to fuck her face. But Xiaoting remains unfazed, picking up some cold lube to pour over your tip. "Us gymnasts always like everything to be perfect, so I'm going to get this cock as ready as possible to put it in my pussy," she says. "Look how sexy it is all that lube dripping down that nice big cock," she continues, giving it a very slow massage.

"I'm going to feel every single inch of it; get that cock nice and ready; make sure it's dripping, just for me," Xiaoting whispers as she slowly runs her soft hands over your big shaft. "That's quite big; it looks like I have to use more than my hands," she says, wrapping her calloused feet right around your balls.

Xiaoting's rugged feet provide extra friction against your balls, sending you over the moon. "Ohhhh, yesssss," you groan. "I can feel all that cum building up in these balls all for me," Xiaoting says with a big smile on her face. "I know this cock is gonna fuck me good; bulge hard under my skinny belly; hope I don't get sore for tomorrow," she continues.

"You like having your cock between my soles?" Xiaoting asks, moving her feet up and down your shaft. "I need to squeeze it tighter, get it ready for this tight hole. Can you take it? Get it deep inside my pussy," she keeps asking.

"Oh, you're so fucking hot," you say as your cock is so big. Xiaoting is performing a handjob and a footjob at the same time on it. "Are you sure it's gonna fit?" she asks, still impressed with the size of it. "Are you sure it can handle such a tight hole?" she continues to ask questions while playing with that massive shaft.

"I can't wait for it to stretch me out; I want to get this cock nice and ready for my tight little pussy," Xiaoting says. "This pussy is gonna squeeze the life out of you," she continues. "And it's gonna be even tighter; you're gonna want it so bad; I know your cock is throbbing for that Olympic pussy," she keeps talking and driving you crazy.

"This is truly my lucky day; I couldn't ask for a better cock," Xiaoting keeps saying. But after a long tease, she finally says the words you were waiting for so long.

"Let me put this big nice cock inside me."

Xiaoting truly wasn't kidding about the tightness of her pussycat. As she opens her legs in a full split and descends down your shaft, you can already feel her walls squeezing it to the maximum, sucking the life out of it just as she promised. Honeslty, if you busted inside her right at this moment, you would already feel accomplised. Not many mortals get even close to an Olympian goddess pussy, let alone are able to cum inside one.

"Ahhhhh," Xiaoting softly moans as she finishes her descent into your pole. You can hear the queefing sound coming out of her pussy, as it completely traps your cock inside it now. Your shaft is completely surrounded by her meaty vaginal cavity from all sides. She starts slow, knowing your cock is quite well endowed compared to the ones she faces and at least double the size of her boyfriend's, whom she left at home to travel for the Olympics.

"That's it, baby, uhhhhh." Xiaoting moans louder as she performs a full split ride on your dick. You run your hands over her perky little tits and well-built gymnast body. Holy shit, what a beautiful girl she is. She could easily be a model if she wasn't an athlete, as you feel in awe with her goddess-like beauty.

Xiaoting grinds on your cock very sexily, using it almost as a training ground as she tries to find the right balance to sit on it with her legs fully spread. "I love feeling that cock so fucking deep in me," she says, closing her eyes and letting out more soft moans.

Xiaoting speeds up the pace of her ride. "My pussy missed this so much; I haven't had such a big cock in a long while," she says. You increase the degree of difficulty of her ride, playing with her clit as she tries to bounce on your cock. "You know exactly what I like, don't you?" she asks.

The gymnast rotates her body around your shaft, adding further pressure to it as her walls tighten even more. "You like how I massage this cock with my pussy?" Xiaoting asks, moving her body to the side while still bouncing on it and remaining with her legs fully spread, forcing you to stop not to cum as her walls hitting your tip make up for an extremely tingling sensation that wasn't going to make you able to last for long.

You kiss Xiaoting as she passes her first routine with flying colors. "You want more?" she asks. Of course you do. Now the question is a different one; it is if you can handle more, wondering if a regular guy like you has what it takes to take on an Olympic athlete in bed.

"Holy shit," Xiaoting says as she keeps riding your cock, marveling at its size. But like the elite athlete that she is, she is ready to take on any challenge, bouncing hard on it in reverse cowgirl as you get a perfect look of her well-shaped ass, making your cock disappear from your view every time she moves down your shaft.

"I love fucking a big cock like that," Xiaoting affirms as more queefing sounds come out of her cunt. "I love watching that cock slide in and out of my pussy, yessss," she continues. 

It doesn't take long for Xiaoting to get another perfect score in her sex routine, bouncing on your cock until she manages to squirt, full of bliss as she reaches her orgasm with your tip hitting her cervix constantly. "Give me more, give me more," she says in a whispering voice as she creams herself all over that big cock.

Xiaoting's cunt keeps queefing nonstop. If there was a competition of pussy queefing, she would already get the gold medal she will be fighting for tomorrow. "That cock feels so fucking good, AHHHHHHHH," Xiaoting says as she squirts again, this time harder than the first one. Does she also want another medal for squirting? Maybe. Heck, it feels like she's going to sweep all the golds from this sex olympic competition, getting another one from the tightness of her pussy, as she forces you to rescue yourself by pouring lots of lube over your shaft just to be able to handle those clenching walls that are wreaking havoc on your cock.

"Your dick is amazing," Xiaoting compliments your cock as she remains addicted to sit on it and ride it as hard as possible. You slap her beautiful, sexy ass while she does it, but I guess this only means she gets even higher points for execution. "I love when you spank me; I love when you hit my ass; I love when you hit me deep in my pussy; that cock is magic," she keeps saying.

Xiaoting manages to cum three times just by riding your cock, but now she's ready for you to prove you can match her sex skills, spreading her legs so you can fuck her pussy in missionary position. But before you do that, you massage her clit until she blasts another massive fountain of squirt.

"Let me taste all those juices. You want a gold medal for that? For being a slutty squirt machine," you poke her as she coats your face full of it. "I want this cock so fucking bad inside me," Xiaoting says.

"Then say it all loud," you demand. Xiaoting obliges, screaming for moure of your big cock bulging under her olympian body. "Please, please, give it to me," she begs, her legs fully spread all the time and ready for that big dick.

"Yes, yes, yes, AHHHHH, AHHHHHH, that cock fills me up so fucking much, holy shit," Xiaoting says as you pound her hard in the bed, giving you a naughty stare. "You like those legs spread wide open for you, don't you?" Xiaoting asks as you use all your energy to fuck her, truly showcase the difference between mortal men and Olympians, as she, on the other hand, barely breaks a sweat during this intense sex session.

"Fuck that pussy, see how open you can spread it," Xiaoting demands as she pushes you to the limit, her athlete mentality showing off even during sex. You keep pounding her, meeting her demands to stretch her cunt as hard as you can. "I love watching that cock going all the way deep inside me, bulging under my tummy," she says. "I know you love this tight fucking hole; you love when I cum all over that big cock, fuckkkk," she continues.

Following another orgasm that ends another part of her routine, Xiaoting is ready for more. "Are you gonna destroy this pussy?" she asks, getting on her feet for the next phase of her sexercise. 

"If you love how much I opened my legs, baby, you're gonna love it even more when I do this," Xiaoting says, pinning her body against the wall and standing in one leg, lifting the other one until her ankles are over her head. "I want you to take on this tight little pussy and make it cum again," she commands. You already feel exhausted, and Xiaoting has only executed the easiest elements of her routine. Now, if you want to share this gold medal with her, you'll have to step your game up.

You lift Xiaoting's body up and carry fuck her. Even with her legs completely in the air, she still manages to massage your balls, daring you to cum inside her. "If you cum before I ask, you'll get disqualified," she pranks you. Her balance is truly otherworldly (well, that makes sense; she's a gymnast competing at the Olympics, isn't she?) as she bounces on your cock with ease and even puts a couple fingers up her asshole for good measure.

"You stretch me out so fucking good," Xiaoting praises your cock, getting even more acrobatic as her legs get on the side of your head, and she uses the walls as an impulse, riding your cock at an insanely difficult position, unafraid of falling down, as she lets her love for cock overake any fear she might have. She's fallen down multiple times, but now she's finally ready to take that gold medal and wants to show it.

Xiaoting drops down right where her tits land exactly at your face, letting your suck them as she performs another difficult exercise. You wrapped her legs on your arms as she stayed with your cock deep in her cunt and her fingers deep in her asshole, staying there until she finished yet another flawless execution in her quest for her gold medal.

Back with her feet on the ground, Xiaoting turns around and lifts her legs up again. "Right in that tight ass," she demands. It would probably be an ill-advised decision to perform anal sex the day before a final for a gymnast, but Xiaoting doesn't care. Her tight holes are made of steel, and right now she's searching for a different kind of gold medal. And you oblige, taking your big cock right up her butthole with her right leg lifted up in the air.

"AHHHH," Xiaoting screams as you start pounding her ass at fist, but quickly manages to adjust. "Yes, right there," she whispers as your cock stretches it out. She knows it's her anal acrobatics that will earn her the gold. "Fuck that tight ass just like that; give it to me; take every inch of that cock in my ass," she keeps demanding.

You fuck Xiaoting's ass hard and deep, in the perfect pace, sending her over the moon as her cunt squirts all over the floor as she masturbates it. "It's so fucking good," she says as your balls clap her clit and she ascends to heaven, not losing her balance at any second. "Fuck that tight ass so good, keep going; I want more; give it to me good; use this tight asshole," she continues. 

The clapping sounds of your balls against her skin drive Xiaoting crazy. "Keep going until you make me cum," she commands. Your hard thrusts are probably the best exercise she's gonna get to keep the balance she needs for her performance tomorrow, as Xiaoting shows her crazy flexibility and anal sex skills to you.

Xiaoting has to hold herself by a handlebar in the wall as you increase the pace of your thursts. "Give me more, AHHHH," she moans, her legs spread in a perfect 180 degree angle, that only gets ruined when you manage to make her cum.

"You're gonna lose some points for this," you prank her as she closes her legs. "Then I'm gonna make up for it," Xiaoting says, switching sides and offering her ass for you to spank while you fuck it hard and deep.

Xiaoting's asshole gets even tighter when you spank her butt, offering you extreme resistance to dig deep inside it. Damn, you didn't know Olympians truly had holes made of steel; that's indeed very superhuman of them. "Harder, harder," Xiaoting demands as you keep pushing yourself to the fullest while she barely flinches even after multiple hard thrusts up her butthole.

"You've got such a perfect big cock; use it to make me cum," Xiaoting demands as you spank her ass hard, frustrated with yourself as you are exhausted after just 5 minutes of assfucking her, having to kiss her to recover your breath as Xiaoting earns a perfect 10 on the art of anal sex, dropping on her knees to taste her hole shortly after and pushing your cock to the limit with her warm throat. 

"OH MY GOD," you scream as Xiaoting fucks your cock with her face to the extreme, giving you a very loud and sloppy blowjob that ends on another perfectly executed deepthroat. At this point, you can barely stand on your feet, as Xiaoting's tight holes have, just as she promised, sucked the life out of you. But it isn't over yet.

"Can I show you something?" Xiaoting asks as she saves her toughest move for last, knowing that she has to push her limits to earn that gold medal. She has never performed that move before, and when she puts her hands on the floor, flipping herself around and getting upside down as you grab her legs just as she starts spreading them, getting ready to perform a much more difficult variation of the wheelbarrow position. 

You put your cock back in Xiaoting's ass as she makes lots of effort to keep her balance. Now she's finally using her olympian powers to the fullest, taking an upside-down pounding with the entire weight of her body placed on her hands. Sex fully meets gymnastics, as Xiaoting knows that if she completes that move, she will earn that medal.

And she does it perfectly, even bouncing her ass against your hips once you free her legs from the grasp of your hands. You wouldn't even know such a sex position was even possible and definitely wouldn't try it at home, but an olympian goddess like Xiaoting handles it like a pro, ready to make history and put herself among the legends of gymnastics and the legends of sex at the same time.

"You're such a sexy whore; you're a gymnast, but I bet you could be a pornstar too," you tell Xiaoting. "Ahhh, fuck, keep pounding my ass," she says. "You want to win a gold medal tomorrow? Tell me," you ask her. "Yes, baby, and I'm going to do that, OHHHH YES," she says, stopping to moan a bit.

You keep fucking Xiaoting's tight ass, pounding it harder and harder to see for how long she can handle such an acrobatic fucking. Her whole body quivers; she closes her eyes, ready to cum again. "AHHH YES, AHHH YESSS," she moans.

"I want you to put all that cum inside me; fill me up with that huge load; fill my ass with that warm cum; I want it so bad; I want to feel that cock throbbing when it cums for me; let my pussy milk all that cum for you." Xiaoting demands and surely gets it, as her clenching asshole is enough for you to finally give in and fill it to the brim. "That's a perfect execution," she says. "Just as I asked," she continues.

You are completely drained, but to Xiaoting, this was just yet another training session. "Here, some tickets for you to watch the gymnastics finals tomorrow if you want to see me again," she says. "Sure," you reply, taking the tickets she offered you.

On the next day, you arrive at the arena to watch Xiaoting, who is the first to perform. You already knew she was pretty, but she looks even more beautiful and goddess-like in her gymnastics attire. She isn't one of the favorites, many considering her a long shot to even get a medal, let alone a gold. But Xiaoting puts up the performance of her life on the biggest stage, getting a score she had never before. The pressure is on her opponents now. The unpredictable nature of the balance beam competition is adding extra tension. One by one, the other finalists present their performances, but Xiaoting keeps a strong grip on the top of the leaderboard as they fail to unseat her. What seemed impossible when she entered that arena was just a few minutes away from happening, as the final gymnast performs and can't top her result.

Shen Xiaoting is an Olympic gold medalist.

She bursts into tears of joy, looking at the crowd as your eyes cross paths with each other. You indeed had gone to see her. She smiles when she sees you. The podium ceremony comes next, as Xiaoting receives her gold medal and the Chinese national anthem starts to play at what ended up being one of the biggest upsets in Olympic history.

But in that crowd, you were the only one who knew this wasn't Xiaoting's first gold medal. She had won one just yesterday. And you were an integral part of it.

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 6 preview:

“Well, I mean it’s not like you share your signature spells with everyone, I mean yours is basically mind control…” Jamil bristled at your comment, making you shrink in. “...I just mean it’s not that different from you.” “I’d say it’s very different.” Azul replied, which was met with murmurs of agreement from Idia and Jamil. “No offense meant to you Prefect, but we have a right to keep our personal thoughts to ourselves, and using our signature spells on others have led to consequences. Yours does not, and I think we all deserve to know about that.” You shrank further into yourself, making yourself smaller against the couch. Clenching Riddle’s train in your hands, you tucked your feet under your legs, feeling like a child being discussed at a parent-teacher meeting. 

[wc} - 15,034

[notes] - wow took a hot sec to get this out. also this is the longest chapter yet and i still feel like it didn't come out great but im sure yall will enjoy what i have so far! also sorry for the lack of jade but i promise there's a reason lmao bare with me

Edits: thanks yuri for the tidbit about counselors I need finish chapter 6 in game lmao

[tag list] - @ghousus; @nasty-rat-goblin; @obeythehuman; @malleus-draconias-rose; @prussianengel

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Chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

The unmistakable sound of the Magic Mirror as you entered another vision. 

You felt heavy, fighting to open your eyelids from the sweet embrace of sleep. 

The light filtering through the lavender drapes stung your eyes as you grumbled, turning around as the surrounding arms tightened and brought you closer to him. 

You felt a grumble vibrate through his chest as you dug your face into the spot above his heart. The soft beating was soothing as you finally looked up, reaching to tuck a dark strand of hair behind his left ear. 

A gold eye opened, sleepy and sweet as it looked at you full of fondness.

A tender, “Good morning, my love,” was accompanied by the sound of you leaving the mirror.

A loud thud and a pain against the side of your head abruptly awoke you from your sleep, the cool wood flooring of the room providing little comfort to the dull pain against your forehead. 

You needed to sweep and mop, the floor was covered in Grim’s fur and dirt.

“What the fuck?” Ace was mumbling as he bolted up from the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Deuce also woke up, much more abruptly and panicked, pushing the sleeping bag off around him and throwing his fists up and as he blearily looked around. 

“Wa happen? Who’s here, I can fight!” Deuce grunted as Ace threw a pillow at his face. 

“Nothing happened, (name) fell off the bed.” Ace yawned, crawling over to peer at you over the edge of the mattress as you pushed yourself off the floor. “You had a bad dream again? Ha, baby.”

Ace always had a big mouth, but he meant well. You wanna talk about it? He just had trouble vocalizing it. 

You sighed, crawling back up the bed and curled into the body pillow between you and Ace. Grim was still peacefully sleeping on top of it as he made a small ‘murrrph?’ sound from being ruffled. 

“Wait, did you and Grim have a nightmare again?” Deuce’s voice was filled with urgency as he crawled over to you three, settling at the end of the bed. He stretched his legs out, tangling with yours and Ace’s, as he looked at Grim with confusion. 

“He’s still sleeping though…you okay (name)?”

A sigh left your mouth as you nodded. “Yeah, I’m…it’s just a weird dream, freaked me out.”

Another, longer sigh made the two share a glance as your dark-haired friend leaned in closer. 

“Was it like, you turned into a chicken and hatched from an egg but were like a weird half chicken and half human thing and got bullied by your chicken siblings?” Deuce looked so earnest as he continued. “I’ve had one of those before.”

You and Ace stared at Deuce for nearly a full, silent minute, as said man shifted uncomfortably. 

“Dude, I don’t know what all that means, but I think you should talk to, like, a dream therapist or something.” Ace let out a disgruntled grunt as Deuce grabbed his own pillow and started smacking him with it. 

“Shut. Up. Ace. (name). Had. A. Bad. Dream!” With each word, Deuce smacked the pillow harder and harder against Ace until he finally covered Ace’s entire body with his own, the unruly shuffling pushing against the bed and pillows until Grim finally woke up with a startle. 

“Hey! What’s the deal!” Grim whined, moving into your arms and settling in like a cat with its owner. “I was having such a good dream too!” 

“Oh? Maybe you two weren’t sharing one this time? (name) had a bad dream.” Ace mumbled, the pillow muffling his speech until he managed to shove his head out between Deuce’s hands and the fabric.

“Finally,! Can barely breathe. Anyways!” Ace chirped, managing to kick Deuce with his free leg. “What got you all scared? Couldn’t have been too bad, right?”

You didn’t scream this time, either. Neither of you.

You winced, Ace’s frowning as he murmured a soft sorry. Deuce looked between you two confused, but gestured for you to speak. 

“It’s okay, you can tell us.”

“It wasn’t bad…just weird?” You scratched Grim’s head as you continued. “I think it was another premonition, I could hear and feel myself going through the mirror again, but it’s been a while since I had one of those.”

The back of Grim’s neck was rumbling as he sleepily stretched into your hands. “It was like I was in the vision itself, ‘stead of watching it like a movie.”

A flash of gold flashed through your mind as you felt your cheeks warm. 

No! No, it’s fine!

“It’s fine, I was just surprised! Nothing to worry about!”

Ace and Deuce shared a look, before looking back at you worryingly. 

“You sure? You know what time of year it is, right?” We all do.

Deuce’s mind flashed with visions of Riddle and Leona, covered in black, inky slop and towering, monstrous beings feeding on their misery and rage. 

Are you sure you’re okay?

“You haven’t had a vision since…you know.” Ace thinned his lips, eyes darting between you and Grim. “Since you and Grim…”

“I’m fine! It wasn’t scary or anything, I promise. I’m fine.” You waved your hands exasperatedly, tossing Grim into Ace’s arms as you kicked Ace’s sheets off and stretched. 

The cold wooden floor shocked some sleep from your bones as you felt your spine pop rather satisfyingly. 

“Grim was even having a pleasant dream, weren’t you?” 

Grim perked up, letting out a squeal that sounded a bit like a purr. 

“Yeah! I was eating this real nice plate of tuna, really expensive too! I think one of the look-a-like brothers was serving it to me.” 

You nodded absentmindedly, walking over to your dresser and grabbing yours and Grim’s dorm uniform, tossing the clothes at the bed. Heading to the bathroom, you left the door slightly ajar to listen to Ace and Deuce as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. 

Grim had taken to the snack drawer in your dresser, where he’d begged you to save some of his favorite tuna, which you easily gave in. But Ace and Deuce stayed on the bed, murmuring. You tried to focus between their thoughts and the words coming out of their mouths, but all you could really make out was a general sense of worry. 

It didn’t help that most of the student body and faculty also had a general feeling of dread and anxiety. The freshman weren’t privy to it, but everyone else was steering clear of, or carefully treading around Riddle as of late. You even heard from Jack that Ruggie had been texting Leona nonstop as the anniversary came up, but got short responses. 

You know why they were worried, you were one of the people at the forefront of both overblots. Intricately involved back then, and it’s like you still are that small, magicless human in a foreign world. 

 “Ow, ow, ow!” You winced, soap getting in your eye while washing your face. “Damn it!”

“Yoo! Prefect! You okay?” Ace’s casual voice had a slight twinge at the end, like he was actively hiding his worry. “Need my help?”

No dying on my watch, and not in the bathroom. You can die somewhere more dignified.

“I’m not dying! God, I just got soap in my eye!” You snatched the hand towel off the rack, dark blue like Deuce’s hair when the sun shone just right. “I’m not a baby! Don’t baby me!”

Stomping out of the bathroom and snatching your clothes, you winced at the barrage of concerned thoughts and worry coming from your friends. 

“Aw come on, I was joking, you know me!” It’s not my fault that it’s that time of year.

We just worry about you, magic or not, you’re still our same old (name). You know?

Deuce gave you a reassuring smile, faltering as you huffed, gesturing for them to turn around as you changed. It was hard to stay angry, your mind was flooded with their memories of you bruised and covered in cuts from thorns.

“I can take care of myself, you know?” You turned back around, clipping your cape around your shoulders and adjusting the clasps. “It’s not like I was the only one that got hurt those days, you guys did too.”

Yeah, but… “You had a real bad reaction after all the overblots, like you were allergic or something.” Ace shivered as you saw a memory flash through his mind.

A few of them, actually. 

One your back covered in hives and Azul’s sucker marks. Another of you choking and sneezing from Leona’s dust. Red and burning scratches from Riddle and his thorns . An awful rash and blisters from Vil’s poisons that covered your face for weeks. Jamil’s snakes and their bites giving you an itchy, swelling bump on your legs that took four rounds of medication and potions to go away. They weren’t around for the reactions you got from Idia, something they were still angry at you for, but Deuce’s imagination ran wild with the stories of you wheezing and heaving to breathe.

And that’s not even to mention the effects that Malleus’s blot had on you.

“I don’t know man, I think it’s natural that we’re all a bit on edge this time of year.” Ace shrugged, grabbing Grim by his scruff and tossing him over to you mid-chewing. “Anyways, you should go head out, you still need to take your potion and head to the nurse.”

You caught Grim as he yelped, growling at Ace, who responded by sticking out his tongue.

“Watch it! You almost ruffled my bow!” Grim whined with pout and still full mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you still need to put your own uniform on too.” You held Grim against your hip as you reached for Grim’s own vest and cape. The little direbeast excitedly snatched the clothes out of your grasp, attempting to slip it on with the elegance of a toddler. 

Eh? Why is this so hard without thumbs!

You giggled, watching Grim struggle to pull the buttons closed as you leaned down to fold the hem of your pants. Looking up, you noticed Deuce helping a struggling Ace with painting on his heart. Ace’s eyes were shut as his face got redder, while Deuce grabbed his chin to steady his face. Deuce was more focused on keeping a steady hand than he was with Ace’s reddening blush, his tongue sticking out almost cutely. 

Mmm?

Deuce finally backed away, sighing in self-satisfaction as he turned back around to put the makeup away. Ace relaxed, watching Deuce for a bit before making eye contact with you. 

He froze, refusing to blink, as if blinking would set you off. 

“…Since when have you struggled with painting your heart? You’d never let me paint it for you, and I always ask!” You whined, poking at his forehead. 

Shut the fuck up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!!

“Oh! Ace has been struggling to paint his heart on for a while, he got carpal tunnel from basketball practice over the summer.” Deuce helpfully piped up, grabbing his own black makeup paint and heading to the bathroom. 

“He’s been having me do it for him, since I got steady hands and everything from working on my blastcyle!” 

“I didn’t even know you could get carpal tunnel from playing basketball…can you even?”

I swear to the fucking Red Queen if you don’t shut up…

“Oi! I thought I told you, you’re running late! You still need to take your potion too! Go! I’m not having Riddle blame me for making you late!” Ace got up to chase you and Grim out, the latter finally clipping his cap around his shoulders. 

“Aha! Wait, eek!” Grim yelped as he bolted on all fours, Ace stomping behind him as he grabbed your magic pen and arm to shove you out. 

“Off you go! Brats.” Text us after your check-up….Brat.

“Hey! Who are you calling a brat? You’re the brat!” you laughed despite Ace’s words, waving as he flipped you off and closed the door. 

The hallway was empty, the entirety of the dorm downstairs from the sounds in the kitchen and lounge. And from the raised voices, you were willing to bet that someone had said the wrong thing to the wrong person. 

Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound of pots, pans, and glass that made you dart down the stairs with Grim close to your heels. 

“Ah! What are they doing to our dorm!” Grim squeezed through the bannister gaps to jump off the stairs and on his feet like a cat, rushing into the kitchen as you finally made your way down. 

“Hey! What did I tell you about touching my cooking!” Yaqub’s voice was very irritated, borderline squawking. 

You’d only heard stories about his irritable nature, mostly from Jamil and a particularly distraught Kalim. Honestly, you thought they might have been exaggerating, since he was always mild mannered around you. 

“It’s too red! I’m making sure that it won’t be too spicy for the dorm, not everyone can handle—”

“That’s tomato sauce you idiot! Damnit Wynfred!”

Granted, Wynfred tended to get under people’s skin with a particularly nonchalant, blissful unawareness. 

You whipped into the kitchen to the sight of Yaqub towering over Wynfred with a wooden spoon ready to swat. The latter was looking into the pan with a bag of sugar in his hands like he’d just dropped an ounce, instead of half the bag into the sauce.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you can just start over, I’ll help!”

Yaqub puffed up, the top feathers of his head perking straight up along with a lump in his shoulders. Just how feathery is he?

“If I’d wanted your help in the first place, I would've asked! I should beat you—”

Yaqub froze as he darted his eyes at you, making Wynfred turn and brighten with a pink flush. Until Yaqub elbowed him, making him hide the sugar behind his back and straighten. Both of them gave you polite smiles and leaned in close, like they were close friends and hadn’t just been arguing a moment ago. 

“Hello Housewarden, how are you? We were just preparing breakfast for everyone, and just happened to run into a hiccup.” Yaqub always spoke to you in a soft, polite voice, which seemed off from his stature. 

“And I was helping! Like a great vice-housewarden!” Wynfred chirped, yelping at a foot stomping on his right. “I mean! I was just being nice.”

Pendejo…

Ow, my big toe…

You blinked at the two, as Grim ruffled up in offense. 

“Hey! You got a vice-housewarden right here! I’ve told you don’t go thinking you can replace me, yer startin’ to annoy me!”

Yaqub snorted as Grim padded closer to Wynfred to further chastise, as much as the little guy could, while the redhead looked off to the side with mild annoyance. 

“Housewarden (name), here.” Yaqub had managed to sneak next to you, making you jump in surprise as he smirked in amusement. 

“Housewarden Jamil told me that you needed a drink every morning for your, uh, condition?”

Cringing, you smiled and took the mug from his hands, noting the same smell of coffee that you’d had with Kalim sometimes. 

“...Is this from Scarabia’s kitchen? It smells like the fancy stuff that Kalim drinks sometimes.”

“Mmmm, maybe?” Yaqub gave you a wry grin and gestured to a smaller cup on the counter. “I was just told to help ya out, so might as well take advantage of Kalim’s surplus.”

Not like the spoiled brat will notice. 

You smiled shakily and reached into your pocket for your last, lavender colored vial. Pouring a few drops into your cup and doing the same to Grim’s, you tenderly sipped the sweetened, smooth liquid.

“Grim, drink.” Stopping mid-stomp, Grim turned and noticed his cup, sighing and hopping up the counter. 

Ugh, remember I want to choose the flavor today.

You smiled and leaned against the counter to sip on your drink, waiting for Riddle to come by for you. It was close to the time he agreed to pick you up, and knowing him he would be at your door 5 minutes early. 

“Enjoy my dear Housewarden!” Wynfred chirped, waving as he walked past to the lounge area, where a group of voices steadily grew in volume. “Don’t worry, I’ll quiet them down, and will also watch over the dorm! I am an excellent leader after all!”

And an excellent date! “Also, I’m still waiting on your response regarding our outing—”

“Wow, I think I hear Silas eating another bug, better go check that!” Yaqub promptly shoved Wynfred out of the kitchen, though you could make out mutterings of “stupid!” and “don’t stress them out!”

It had been a trend lately to walk eggshells around you. The new students in Ramshackle were still keeping you busy, but with the dates of Riddle and Leona’s overblots looming over the student body’s head, you were fairly certain they were all told to be careful around you. 

Wynfred, maybe a mix of trying to be genuinely helpful and trying to gain your favor, had taken over most of your duties, albeit to your mild irritation. 

It wasn’t that you disliked the help, and to be honest, most of your work was delegating the tasks that Crowley had given to you and Grim the year before, and spreading it amongst the freshmen. Wynfred just stepped on your toes when he did. 

Still, these past two weeks had been the most stress-free since starting the year, to the point that you were even able to spend a night with Ace and Deuce. Normally they’d come to your place…but someone had been spreading rumors about you three being closer than your average friends. 

These sorts of rumors were around last year as well, pushed to the background with the more drastic events that occurred, but you never minded. At least, not until you heard some unpleasant thoughts from a certain someone. 

You sighed, thinking about your interactions as of late. Jade had been rather…clingy? Attached? Hovering? You suppose that’s the best way to put it, though he hardly ever touched you. 

No, he was always respectful in that regard, which you did appreciate. But he was always hovering over you when he had an excuse to. Even outside of class and dorm meetings between you and Azul, Jade found a way to be around, even if it was just a fleeting glance and hello. 

To no surprise to you, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to tell when Wynfred was alone with you, interrupting him mid-conversation to ask for your assistance with the Octavinelle students in your care. Which, considering they were extremely organized and easy to work with (mostly), was unnecessary. 

Though, you think that had more to do with Wynfred not being able to read a room and talking on and on with just about everyone he meets. And with him being in the same club as Jade, he was just an overflowing well, full of information for Jade to pick at. 

Like his schedule, his attempts to speak to confirm your ‘date’, or the times the dorm is left under Grim’s ‘care’ while you did your club duties.  

All of your freshmen were aware that your club would meet on Sundays in the afternoon to study the ruins and gargoyles on campus. Suddenly, the Mountain Lovers Club was also meeting on Sunday afternoons. And they just happened to be in the same ruins as you, which was strange considering that the ruins weren’t in the mountain range around NRC.

He’d also taken to “mysteriously” showing up every time Wynfred was getting ready to ask you out again. It had happened at least 3 times since the incident at the lake, each time Wynfred would attempt ‘asking for your hand’, in his own words. Jade would suddenly appear and either ask Wynfred if he’d completed his club tasks, which the latter complained about often, or whisk you away to meet with Azul about your Halloween agreement. 

Based on Azul’s thoughts, he was getting annoyed at Jade’s sudden appointments, but he never let it show and seemed to like planning the carnival themed food stalls with you, at least the money it’d make anyway. 

If you didn’t realize how much of a blabbermouth Wynfred was, and the prominence of gossiping amongst Pomefiore students, you’d suspect that Jade could also read minds.

There were some times that his ‘attentiveness’ was actually quite nice.

Like how you almost always forgot to grab breakfast in the morning, opting for something to drink. Suddenly, you’d mysteriously find a breakfast pastry with an unsigned note in familiar handwriting at your desk in the homeroom. 

If you found yourself studying extra long in the library, you would leave your table for the restroom and come back to an open book with a note pointing to a section related to your current class module.

You had to admit, though, your favorite thing he’d been doing for you was asking for your ‘help’ in potions. Jade didn’t really need help, not with Riddle and Yev in your group, but it was nice being the one he’d always ask first. 

Even for simple things, like what notes he missed, could you help him with measuring the herbs, and even just asking for you to explain the instructions Yev liked to spitfire. 

He didn’t need your help, not really. He was more than capable of asking Crewel for missed notes, or checking the instructions for measuring certain herbs, or having Yev repeat himself. You could hear him think that too, but…it was almost flattering how much he just loved hearing your voice. Jade liked having you help him, and you liked to pretend that you were actually useful for once. 

Could be worse, I suppose.

You heard a knock at the front door, listening as one of your students opened the door and greeted the new arrival. 

“Prefect?” You leaned over to look past the doorway to see Riddle standing at the entry, dressed in all his queenly glamor. “Housewarden Riddle is here for you.”

“Hey Riddle! Let me finish my coffee real quick!”

“Alright, quickly then.” He nodded and gave you a pleasant smile. We wouldn’t want to be late.

Gesturing for Grim to finish his drink, you took big gulps, ever so slightly burning the inside your mouth. Huffing the hot air out of your mouth and waving Grim along, you jogged over to the front door and waved out to the lounge. 

“Bye everyone, I will be back from the meeting later. Please don’t set the place on fire!”

You heard an echo of ‘okays’ and ‘yessirs’, with a singular ‘no promises’ with a loud smack and yelp making you stifle a snort. 

Riddle was patiently waiting by the stairs, watching the sky until he heard you close the door, turning to you with a smile. 

“Still on time, good. I was worried that the two would give you trouble.”

You clicked your tongue waving your wave dismissively. “Nah, they’ve been super helpful, you should give them more credit.

Riddle gave you a doubtful look as you too made your way to the castle. 

“I mean it!”

“Of course, whatever you say.”

Pushing Riddle with your shoulder, you giggled as Grim jumped on your back and took his place on your shoulder. 

“Oh shush! Should we start heading to the infirmary? Goethel called everyone in for something important, right?”

Riddle nodded leading the way as he hummed to himself. 

Walking with Riddle was always nice. He was quiet, both physically and mentally, which was an odd thing to say now that you really thought about it. But it was nice, as being with him meant that his thoughts were more…organized? 

Hmm, is that the best way to explain it?

You noticed that being around some of your friends was less mentally taxing on your telepathy. Riddle, unlike Kalim for example, was always straight to the point and clear. His thoughts rarely, if ever, jumped around from what he’d been focusing on. Jamil and Jack were the same, so being around them was actually quite soothing. Even Jade tended to have a one track mind, even when focusing on you. 

However, being around Kalim, Floyd, even Sebek and Epel at times, caused you to grow a headache. There were too many sounds, too many different topics jumping around. Even being around Deuce sometimes caused a migraine. It got worse when you were in a crowd too. 

But being around J—Riddle! Being around Riddle isn’t like that! He’s nice, calm, and quiet. Most of the time anyways. 

You shook your head, flapping your hands like you were trying to shake something off as you sped up after Riddle. Thankfully, with most of the student body in bed still, the walk was peaceful and short. You just really hated all the stairs, all three stories of them, to get to the infirmary. 

It was surprisingly empty in the room when you entered, only Ortho cleaning up his equipment with a sanitizing spray. Your friend brightened as you waved, cheerfully zooming over with an urgency. 

“Prefect! Hi!” Ortho scooped you up underneath your arms, bringing you into a spine crushing hug before setting you back down, the whirl of his fans betraying his excitement. 

“I missed you during your last check in! I tried reading your files to make sure nothing new happened, but Ms. Goethel got mad at me for snooping.”

You really liked Ortho, he was like a cute little brother. Which, seeing how Idia programmed him in the first place, was expected. What was a bit surprising was how he almost spoke to himself internally. 

How am I meant to help if I can’t stay updated with everyone’s medical condition—

—cause not everyone wants to have their private information shared! Duh! What are you a dummy—

—No! I’m just concerned! Idia might not be friends with all of them, but I like them! Especially the Prefect and Vil! 

That doesn’t mean you can be in their business, remember what happened when we snooped in the headmage’s files?

You watched Ortho’s hair and lights briefly flash red and him shuddering, as much as a technomantic could anyway. Instead, he turned to Riddle and gestured to him to follow. 

“Come on Riddle! I’ll do you first, the others are waiting in Ms. Goethel’s office!” Ortho floated towards a bed with a privacy curtain covering it. “Prefect, I’ll do you after! Please take a seat, it won’t take long!”

You hummed in response, sitting in the waiting area of the infirmary with Grim hopping into your lap. He curled into you, wrapping his tail so tightly that he looked like a little ball. 

Mmm, I don’t like Ortho doing these. Reminds me of that stupid isle…

You sighed, scratching behind his ears as you felt him purr and relax. 

“It’s okay, I’ll go first and you can watch, ‘kay?”

Grim made a small ‘okay’ noise as he nodded, pressing his head against your hand. Rubbing your thumb over his forehead in a circular motion, you felt him relax and dig his front paws into your thighs as he gently kneaded into you. 

He’d had nightmares after his time at the Isle of Woe for weeks, though they’d become less common, Grim would still get them from time to time. 

I want something fancy for dinner tonight! To make up for gettin’ all poked and pinched!

Grim’s ears perked as he jumped up and pawed at your chest. 

“Ask Hornton to take us to the Mostro Lounge! I want to eat crab and that fancy cav-eee-ar thing that people always talk about!”

You snorted, “Do you mean caviar?”  

“Whatever it is, ask Hornton to buy it for us!” Grim huffed and started drooling as you made out his little daydreams of fancy caviar on crackers and shrimp cocktails. 

“Okaaay, but I don’t think you’ll like it.” You laughed, patting his head again as you started scrolling through Magicam. 

Hmm, Cater posted another pic of himself at a cafe…Ruggie and Epel in their club…oh, Azul posted a sneak peak of the new menu, nice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at a familiar logo and pair in the campus’s woods. 

“As the Mountain Lovers Club, we do much more than hiking! Our club members sometimes cook their findings as well! Look at how delicious these foraged plants look!”

Wynfred’s red curls and dark green eyes were just barely visible in the corner of the selfie as in the background, Jade tended to what looked like some mushrooms and spring onions on a campfire grill gate. 

A smile grew on your features at the scene. It seemed that this was the work that Jade had put him to that he’d been complaining about. Social media seemed to come natural to him though, maybe you should connect him with Cater?

“Prefect? Riddle is done, you can come over now.”

You looked up and saw Riddle and Ortho pop out from behind the privacy curtain, Riddle looking rather relieved. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. No additional stress with the normal day to day things…No blot, no blot. No blot this time…

Riddle looked up at you and gave you a nod. “I’ll be heading to the office now, I’ll let the others know that you’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay, thanks.” you nodded back, gathering Grim up in your arms and heading to Ortho, who was hovering patiently. 

“I’ll be quick! Let me do a quick physical and then I just need to measure your stress levels and magic accumulation!” 

Grim’s claws dug into your skin at that, an unpleasant rumbling vibrating through his chest. You patted his head again to calm your friend. 

You placed Grim next to you on the bed, patting his head as you let Ortho take your basic measurements: weight, height, heart rate, blood pressure. Rather normal things that you’d experienced back home. But Ortho’s yellow eyes going white and presumably scanning your body was not, neither was him offering his hand out for you to place your wand in. 

“Here.” Sighing, you watched as a blue light glowed from his hand, scanning down your wand before focusing in on the light violet gemstone. 

“You should get a housewarden staff, I tried getting Idia to use the Ignihyde one, but he thought it made him look geeky.” You and Ortho shared a giggle as he went silent while uploading the results of your physical to presumably your medical file. 

You stayed silent as he did, fidgeting with the skin around your nails. 

“Hmm, based on the data I acquired from your stone, you have an unusually high rate of blot accumulation. Normally it would pile up, but it seems it’s being reduced by your daily potion.”

Ortho handed back your wand with his brows furrowed. 

“Still, it’s at a much higher rate than the others. Maybe due to your body not being originally suited to magic? I’ll let Nurse Goethel know.”

A tugging on the back of your vest caught your attention as you looked back at Grim, who was holding onto you with droopy ears. 

“Is that bad?”

You smiled reassuringly and scratched the top of his head. 

“It’s not ideal, but I’m sure if it was really bad, Ortho would get the nurse, right?”

Looking at Ortho for reassurance, your friend nodded and gave you a perky thumbs up.

“Right! Besides Grim, you should be a lot more worried about yourself! Your blot accumulation has still been super unpredictable, speaking of which.”

Ortho turned to look at Grim and cheerfully continued

“Nurse Goethel says that she will do your exam, so you can wait here.” Ortho produced a star shaped sticker from his chest panel and stuck it to your forehead with glee. “Prefect! You can go to the office with the others.”

Yay! Finally got someone!

Grim stiffened and scrunched up his lips.

Huh? No! I don’t wanna be alone! “My henchhuman needs to be with me at all times! They’re my servant!”

Grim stood on the bed and puffed up his chest, though you could feel the anxiety radiating off him. 

“It’s okay Grim, I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.” You patted his head again, which Grim relaxed into and plopped back down on the bed. “Okay? Just have Ortho come get me.”

Hmph! “I’m the Great Grim! I don’t need anyone!” You better mean that…

Grim sat back down the bed and curled his tail inward towards him, hugging it to himself as he huffed and turned his head away from you. 

You gave Ortho an apologetic smile and made your way out of the main infirmary and to the hallway. 

It was empty, this branch of the castle usually was on the weekends due to it mostly containing the professors’ offices and general administrative wings. Still, it was a nice change of pace to the usually busy halls and bouncing thoughts of the student body. 

Though, you didn’t have to walk far as Nurse Goethel’s office was right next to the infirmary. The closer you got to the door, you could make out Riddle’s voice talking to the others in the room.

Ah, I wonder if he’s telling them about everything that’s been happening this year. That sounds nice, wonder what he’s talking about, maybe my new dorm members? Oh, maybe about Halloween, they’re allowed to come visit during the fair right?

You smiled at the thought of showing off Ramshackle to Malleus, all decked out in amusement park and clown themed decorations. 

Yeah, I bet he’s telling them that I’ve been doing a great job as a housewarden!

A smile still on your face, you opened the door to the office to see everyone attentively listening to Riddle. 

“I am worried about how they’re dealing with it, psychics as a whole are rare, and their telepathy seems to be a source of distress. So I’m hoping that one of us has a family history of psychics that we can refer to—OW!”

Riddle yelped as you, with rather impressive accuracy mind you, threw a decorative stress ball that was on the shelf near you, right at his head. 

It was the shock that got Riddle rather than actually being hurt, but he still clutched his head at the spot you hit. 

“Prefect! What is wrong with—”

“How dare you!”

You cherished your friendship with Riddle, maybe as much as you did with Ace and Deuce. He was the first person overblot and did disparage you at first, yes. But he was also one of the first people to take you under his wing. He treated you more like another housewarden and student, rather than just Grim’s babysitter or the magicless human. 

He was aware that you were more fragile to magic compared to the other students, but he never coddled you before. He was there when you cried about missing home, about feeling inadequate in the foreign school system, about your frustration with Grim at times.

You were never sure why Riddle took such a liking to you. Perhaps it was because he liked having a friend that would attentively listen to him list all 810 of the Queen of Heart’s rules. Or that you would distract Floyd long enough for him to escape, and then meet again later and giggle about it. 

Or maybe it was because you didn’t really know about him and his reputation as a tyrant, only your very brief brush with it. To you, he was just Riddle, the redheaded guy with a bit of a temper, a friend. 

Riddle was a very good friend, one you could credit to your ability to skip a potionology grade. A wonderful friend, Riddle was. 

But right now, Riddle was pissing you off.

The two of you stared each other down as the other 6 in the room watched on in various levels of amusement and concern. 

You thought you’d been doing a swell job, especially regarding your telepathy. Sure, you had some problems here or there, and certain people caused certain issues, but overall you were having a grand time learning your magic on your own time. 

You thought he did too, seeing as he didn’t mention anything about the telepathy after finding out. In fact, he didn’t even acknowledge it, not like how Ace, Deuce, and Grim would. 

They’d speak through their thoughts, or think silly things to make you laugh in class, or they (Grim, usually) would beg you to give them a hint on the in-class assignments. 

But Riddle didn’t do any of that, he just kept going on like nothing had changed. Even his thoughts remained the same, though they were never anything strange or out of character for him. You thought that he had confidence in you and your new ability. And that was a nice sentiment, or it was. 

So yes, you were quite pissed off at him for implying that you weren’t able handle your magic yourself.

“Riddle! What the heck” You hissed, rushing over to him and sputtering as you hovered your fists over him, deciding whether or not you should just shake the jitters out, or start lightly hitting him.

“Now, Child of Man, there’s no need to get violent.”

Your darling horned friend decided for you, a sudden influx of amusement filling you as Malleus came from behind you. He tenderly grabbed at your hands and pulled you to sit back between him and Riddle in the love seat nestled in the corner of the nurse’s office.

Malleus chuckled, beaming as you shoved yourself into his side to put as much space between you and Riddle as possible. You’d managed to curl yourself into a little ball into Malleus’s side as you stuck your tongue out at Riddle.

Ah, amusing. Malleus hummed, briefly pausing before resuming his pats on the top of your head, chuckling as you moved his arm to hug you like a shield against Riddle. Riddle looked less than amused at the situation, crossing his arms as he stared back at your angry face.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Prefect.” Riddle huffed, though for some reason you could just feel the guilt radiating from him. That outburst was completely unnecessary. 

“Ugh!” You let out a scoff, bring the hood of your cape up and over your head, tugging down to cover your face. 

“You’re the one sharing my business with others, you know I haven’t told anyone else!” Voice muffled, you felt your face burning in frustration. “What gives you the right? You didn’t even ask!”

That weird feeling of guilt was growing as Malleus pulled your hood back, so that your face was visible once again. Everyone was staring at you now, making you shift uncomfortably. 

Aw. They look like they want to cry…

I guess they didn’t want that shared?

Riddle looked as upset as you were, maybe even guiltier than you felt…or was that you feeling that?

Why am I feeling guilty? 

Ah, I’m sorry, Prefect…

Malleus gave you another reassuring pat on your head, a new sense of calm enveloping your body

Is that…Malleus’s..?

“I’m sure Rosehearts had good intentions, you’re still getting used to your magic after all.”  Malleus chuckled as you pouted, a new sense of amusement now warming your body. 

Oh, he finds this funny. Hmph.

Slipping under his arms to slide off the small couch and onto the floor, you sighed and crossed your arms. An image of you looking like a petulant child crossed your mind and you snapped your head up to dart between the others in the room. 

Vil and Idia took the chairs in front of the nurse’s desk, though the former had turned it to face everyone, presumably to speak face-to-face. Idia was curled into his chair, which he hadn’t bothered to turn, but sat in it sideways so he could look at everyone from the corner of his eyes. Azul was sitting on an upholstered bench on the wall next to Idia, legs crossed and hands politely crossed over the top of his staff. 

Jamil was leaning in the corner of the room near Vil and Leona, who was sitting with his eyes closed on the windowsill. Jamil was fidgeting with the snake staff in his hand, watching you with a neutral expression. 

Heh, they kinda look like Najima as a kid. 

“Precisely!” Riddle chimed back in, leaning down to pull at your cheek as you grumbled. “Reading another’s mind is mentally and magically taxing, you’re not used to magic like us.”

“Are you for reals? Like not just psychic but actual, full on mind reading? What the hell?!” Idia screeched, horrified at the idea. Though, seeing how he was a self-proclaimed otaku, and the sort of shows he might be into, you weren’t surprised that he didn’t like the idea. 

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it! Don’t think about the weird incest reincarnation subplot It’s not my fault the manga started going weird! I just thought it was a cute idol story!

Idia curled into the seat again and practically demanded, “How long have they had it?!”

Blinking slowly, you could feel your face going warm in embarrassment, matching Idia’s own reddening cheeks. In fact…in your cheeks as well…and your hair felt hot, like it was on fire. 

“If you’re wondering if I could hear you during your breakdown last year, no, I couldn��t. Happened a bit after I got magic.” You sighed while Idia relaxed, and you felt yourself do the same.

Thank Hades! I do not want—wait a fucking second. 

Idia darted his head back at you and glared, wrapping his arms around his head protectively. “You’re doing it right now, aren’t you! Get out of my head, you FREAK!”

“Idia! Don’t you chastise them like that” Riddle started yelling at Idia, before you interrupted him with a snarky reply. 

“Freak? Says the guy with fire hair, that’s freaky even for here!” You had a sudden burst of energy as you crawled over to Idia to start poking at him as you continued. “I’m an alien, I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

Are you serious—ugh nevermind, you two just go at it. 

“Alien does not mean from another dimension.” Idia said, giving you a blank stare. “You’re not from another planet, you’re from a whole other universe.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not!” Idia scoffed. He was much more comfortable with you and the others by now, though it might be due to how much you all liked to prod at him over the summer. 

“Ya-huh.”

“Nuh-huh!”

“Ya-huh!”

The two of you continued to bicker, Riddle, Vil, Jamil, and Azul watching in a mix of disapproval and mild amusement. Malleus, just darted his gaze between the two of you, much like watching a game of tennis. He was thoroughly entertained as he leaned over to Riddle. 

“Is this how humans normally interact with their friends?” Malleus asked, Riddle jumping slightly as if he forgot Malleus was even there. “My Child of Man never interacts with me like that.”

Riddle sighed as he shrugged. “It depends, they’ve always been very adaptable with everyone around them. I think the Prefect just likes to press Idia’s buttons, ever since he took us and Grim to S.T.Y.X.”

“Hey!” Idia yelled, immediately shrinking down as he realized just how loud he was being. “I mean…it wasn’t me who sent the Charon bots after you…I just ended up taking over for a bit.”

Suddenly, a wave of annoyance with a touch of amusement filled your body. 

“And then you immediately overblotted.” Leona finally spoke up, his tail swishing quickly as he shifted in his seat, eyes still closed. “Now both of you shut it. Been tryin’ to take a nap.”

Too damn loud, go back to being a shut in Radish Sprout. Leona frowned, his tail stilling as he opened an eye to look at you. “I can tell you’re listening. Stop it.” 

You jumped, as did the others, minus Malleus. Sharing a look of confusion with Riddle as your eyes met, you turned back to question Leona. 

“You can tell? How?”

“I am also wondering.” Riddle stated in kind, scooting forward in his seat. “I could only tell because of Ace’s big mouth, and from little slips of the tongue with the Prefect.”

Malleus hummed, crossing his arms and holding his finger to his chin as he tapped. 

“It feels…a bit like when someone’s eyes are on you, but you’re unsure from where. Much like the feeling of Hunt’s eyes on me.” Vil pinched his nose at that as Malleus continued. “Kingscholar, what is it like for you?”

Leona’s ear flicked, tail swishing faster, much like Lucius when he got annoyed from Idia’s pestering. 

“It’s like a certain someone being annoying, poking and prodding at you with their pencil.” Leona smirked as you gasped. He put his hand out as you crawled over to him, holding out by your forehead as you swatted at him playfully, suddenly giddy.

“I’m not annoying!” You growled, though you started giggling as Leona’s tail swiped at your neck, tickling you. “Gah! Stop! That tickles!!”

Good. You could practically hear his chuckle. 

“Too bad, now stop. Tryin’ to nap before Nurse Goethel comes in.” Leona gave you a final shove, making you fall on your behind as he sighed against the window. 

“Oof! Fine, fine!” You laid on the ground, spreading your limbs and staring at the ceiling. 

Your emotions felt like they were bouncing all over the place. At one moment, you were flooded with anxiety, another with embarrassment. Next it was amusement, then annoyance, and now you suddenly felt exhausted, like your hair was being tugged in a million different directions. 

“Can you really tell?” you tilted your head up to flit your gaze between Malleus and Leona. “No one else has said anything.”

Malleus nodded while Leona hummed in an affirmative sound.

Perhaps the others can too? Malleus’s voice echoed through your mind the same time as Leona’s, the latter almost shoving in. 

You should freak out the Octopunk, he looks like he’s gonna puke. 

You looked back at Leona, noticing a small smirk at the end of his lips, and decided to take a peek at Azul leaning against the desk next to Idia. True to his word, Azul was wide-eyed and biting on his lip, his thoughts running a mile per minute. 

Oh Neptune, they’ve heard everything. But it’s recent, right? So nothing embarrassing…but still.

Azul furrowed his brow, glancing at you as he froze at making eye contact with you. Your heart froze in what you think was panic.

“...Azul.”

“Prefect.” He replied bluntly, refusing to break your gaze with him. 

“You, uh, sounding a little concerned?”

The others looked over at his direction, Leona looking particularly amused. 

“Oh? Does the Octopunk got secrets still? I thought I got them all out of you last year, maybe I need to bring up that old picture—”

“No you don’t!” Azul raised his voice, nearly going shrill, as he cleared his throat and looked away bashfully. His face was tinted a lilac shade. “I am just concerned about the privacy of my customers, many of my surviving contracts are rather private, you know.”

You don’t get to know about any more of my personal business… Azul’s eyes lit up. That sudden feeling of panic quickly morphed into smugness. 

Prefect~ You two made eye contact again, the others’ teasing questions about Azul’s thoughts becoming background noise. If you mention anything about what you just heard, then Jade might just happen to hear about your little…invasion of privacy.

Now you were positive that feeling of panic was genuinely your own. 

“Come on Prefect, what’s got the shady asshole all tight-lipped.” Jamil was smirking as he noticed you pale. “Oh? Did he say something? Don’t be shy, share with the group. Sharing is caring, you know?”

You shook your head and got up to stretch, facing Riddle and Malleus as you did, both looking amused. Riddle had an inkling of what Azul might have suggested, as the image of Jade popped up briefly. 

Malleus was a bit more confused, though he was musing about what Azul could have on you that would keep you tight-lipped. 

Perhaps an embarrassing picture? But my human is never embarrassed, they’re quite delightful. What is it, my friend? Do you want me to stop him? I will if you ask. 

You shook your head and answered, “No Hornton, you don’t gotta do anything to him.”

“He doesn’t have to do what?” Azul asked panickedly, a similar sense of foreign panic filling you as well, looking between you and Malleus with concern. 

Ah he’s scared…I guess that’s to be expected with Mal. 

You forgot that Malleus was technically someone to be feared. It was hard to fear someone who you watched cry over a brain freeze after eating ice cream too fast at 3am on a Tuesday evening outside Ramshackle. 

 “Tch, why are you scared of the damn lizard.” Leona grumbled as snuck up behind you, crossing his arms over your head and leaning his entire weight against you. “Doing that’s only going to make his ego bigger.”

“Are you really one to talk, Leona?” Vil chuckled, frowning as he noticed you buckling. “I think you’re a bit heavy for them.”

Leona’s chest vibrated as he made a rumbling sound, lifting a bit of his weight off you to sit back down, letting you rest lean against him.

Whatever, you don’t mind, do you herbivore? You can say something if you do. 

You remained silent as each person separated into a mini-group, conversing amongst each other. Vil and Jamil were quietly conversing as Jamil looked in the cupboard Nurse Goethel kept her medicinal herbs in. 

Azul was quietly observing Idia play a game on his phone, the latter turning it slightly towards Azul. Riddle was catching up with Leona as you struggled to stay upright, updating him with how the Spelldrive team was doing. 

Though he pretended not to care, you could hear his thoughts. He was pleased, though, he smacked his tail against your leg each time you listened in too closely. 

Malleus was the only one that kept to himself, humming a lullaby that he taught you not too long ago. He seemed content. 

You turned your attention to one of the potted herbs hanging on the windowsill you and Leona were next to. It was swaying from the breeze entering the cracks of the window, you hadn’t even noticed that Leona had the window opened. 

The pot was carrying Rosarian lavender, similar to one of the varieties on Earth. Divus and Goethel had both praised lavender as a versatile herb for both nonmagical and magical uses. 

Not only was it used for cooking, in cocktails, and as a tea, but as a core ingredient for nearly every magical protection and antiblot potion, but was both soothing and healing as a medicinal. Even Vil was particularly fond of using skin products that included lavender as a core ingredient. 

You thought the smell was pleasant. It was very floral, earthy, but it was light and sweet. It reminded you of Jade, as you could always smell something green and earthy on him every time he leaned in too close during class. You also thought about the light purple magic stone on his pen, and the scarf against his skin. The lighting of the lounge against his cheeks ever since you’d been coming to Octavinelle more often to organize the details for your dorms’ Halloween collaboration. 

Hmm?

You also thought about the way it tasted in the drinks you’ve had over the last few months. How it made your coffee sweet, but your hot chocolate earthy. How much Grim whined about the taste every morning you took the potion with him. You pretend to dislike the taste, so he wouldn’t feel silly about it. 

The soft knock from the office door drew everyone’s attention, as it cracked open for a tall, pale woman to step in and close it behind her. 

It was no mistake, based on the dark red and gold nurse’s army dress and the black scrubs under the skirt, along with a name tag. 

A. Goethel, N.P.M., Nurse Practitioner Mage

Nurse Amara Goethel herself. 

“You know I could hear you all raising your voices earlier, I am meant to be completing an examination, not checking in on you.”

Goethel was a beautiful woman, her long dark brown curls tied back into a low ponytail, though she had a thick strand of white curls on her bangs. Despite this, she had a beautiful, narrow face with high cheekbones and hooked nose, so beautiful that it rivaled even the most ethereal models you’ve seen with Vil. Her face didn’t make her narrow eyes and strict gaze any less intimidating, though.

You felt yourself shiver at the sudden combination of fear, delight, and worry that enveloped your body. 

“Prince Leona Kingscholar,” You felt the man freeze at the growl in her voice. “You get off them right this second. Straighten up, I know you can be a proper gentleman.”

You made an ‘oof’ sound, stumbling as Leona quickly and smoothly stood up. From the corner of your eye, you could see the others do the same, even Idia took off his hood and went upright in his seat. 

“Yes ma’am,” Leona replied, albeit gruffly and with a disgruntled tone. He reminded you of a chastised toddler. He shifted on the windowsill again, sitting straight this time though. You decided to sit between Malleus and Riddle again, curling in and fidgeting with the train on Riddle’s dorm uniform. 

His eyes darted to you briefly. Don’t wrinkle it. You nodded. 

Goethel clicked her tongue, making her way over to Vil. “I know every single student of mine has the ability to be a gentleman, yet you all drive me insane helping you get to that point.” 

She reached out for a polite hug, the two of them sharing a greeting kiss on each cheek. 

“Hello Vil, my darling! It’s been too long!” Goethel had an almost musical sound to her voice as she chirped. “Later, you’ll just have to catch me up on how you’ve been doing at your internship.”

“Of course, Nurse Goethel.” Vil hummed, smiling fondly. “Anything for you.”

Nurse Goethel let Vil go and moved to shuffling through her desk, smoothing out her clothes as she did. 

“Now, I know that you’re taking valuable time out of your duties as interns and housewardens, especially with the Spelldrive Tournament coming up, so I appreciate you taking the time to come and meet me.”

“Well, you mentioned it was important, something about our blot preventative potions, yes?” Azul spoke up. 

Goethel nodded, reaching for a small stack of files from her drawer. Each had your names written on the tab, along with the words ‘BLOT RISK’ next to them. 

“Yes. As we found over the summer, you all are at higher risk for rapid blot accumulation due to your previous overblots and trauma. Along with the particularly…stressful year you had, we’ve been looking for more ways to decrease your risk of overblotting again.”

If only we had properly funded counselors, Crowley. You could just hear the hiss in her thoughts as she shuffled through the paperwork. She paused at yours and Grim’s files for a moment, tapping at it with fingertips. Poor things…especially you two.

“The headmage made the research project official in September. And we’ve had some interest from a few different parties and companies.”

Idia snorted and mumbled, “Like S.T.Y.X.”

“Well, officially Jupiter Enterprises, but yes.” Goethel picked up another manilla folder as she continued. “But one was of surprising interest: Empress Apothecaries.”

You noticed Vil perk up, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t that Yev’s…wait. Vil suddenly glared at you, snapping his fingers in your direction. 

“Stop that! Having you poke around feels strange…”

Before he continued, Vil closed his mouth as Goethel looked over to him and raised her brow. She studied him for a moment, before looking towards you. 

“My love, leave dear Riddle’s clothing alone. Fidgeting is unbecoming.” She spoke softly to you, a gentle smile on her face. 

A nervous chuckle left your throat. “Sorry, nervous habit.” 

Tch, totally not fair that Ms. Goethel has her favorites. You could just imagine the annoyed look on his face, but Idia was looking at his hands, which were also fidgeting with his sweater. If I bounce my leg or pick at my hands, it’s “unbecoming” and “yOu’Re oF a hIGh StAtUS fAAAmIlY, Idia Shroud”. But if youuuu do it, it’s “my loooove~” and—HEY. STOP THAT PREFECT!

The flames on his head briefly turned brighter as he frowned, rubbing at his temples. 

“That does feel weird…” he mumbled, loud enough that Goethel turned her attention to him. She studied Idia for a moment, making the poor man freeze in fear.

“Relax, Idia.” She murmured, resting her chin on her folded hands. “What feels weird, was something missed on the exam?”

Idia’s face slowly started turning red and he shook his head, briefly glancing at you before looking down at his hands. 

Goethel’s gaze remained on him, before flitting over to you. Her brown eyes 

“Darling, explain.”

You bowed your head, looking up at Goethel with a guilty expression. 

“You know how after graduation last year, I talked to Crowley and you about my ‘condition’?”

Goethel raised her brows, still watching you like a cat with a mouse. 

“The one he requested you keep to yourself? You told them?”

“Well, I told Ace and Deuce…” You pouted, gesturing your head to Riddle. “Riddle noticed, and he told the others.”

Wait, Prefect you were supposed to keep it secret? Riddle sighed, rubbing his forehead in a frustration you could just see and feel radiating off him. Are you kidding me?

“Ah, I see.” Clicking her tongue, Goethel shook her head in exasperation, but smiled. “Well, considering the nature of your magic, it’s probably for the best that the people in this room are aware.” 

Goethel reached into her pocket, pulling out a vibrating phone and tapping it. Looking at it, she remained quiet as she stood back up, slipping all but Grim’s files back in her cabinet. You heard a click of a lock as she tapped it with the end of her wand. 

“Grim is almost done with the rest of his check in, I need to go back and make sure everything is okay.” She slipped pass Idia and Azul, briefly patting the former’s head as she did. “Ortho’s been very through as a student nurse, you should be proud Idia.”

You could feel something soft and soothing fill your head and Idia’s thoughts, a pleasant warmth growing until you felt warmth wrapping around you like a warm blanket coming out of a dryer.

“I’ll be back and we will discuss, now please behave yourselves.” 

With a click of her heels and the shutting of the door, your group remained silent, like they were waiting to be sure she was gone before speaking. 

“...So do all the faculty know?” You shifted uncomfortably as Jamil started speaking, the red feather in his hair following his movements. “It’s not surprising the headmage told you to keep it secret, psychics are rare and highly sought after by governments and royals.”

He tapped a finger to his chin, huffing as he continued. “I’ve heard stories about children being taken by soldiers once they showed signs of premonition, but Crowley probably cares less about that and more about using you for himself.”

You cringed at that, making a face at Jamil. “Well, I’m not super good at the premonition parts anyway, my dreams are more jumbled than anything.”

“That’s true,” Vil let out a soft chuckle as he nodded in agreement. “I remember when you tried to explain the dreams to Rook and I last spring, it sounded more like you were retelling a fairy tale than giving warnings of dark times.”

A memory of you, waving your hands around and using Epel like a prop in a play flashed through your mind, along with a sense of fond amusement. 

“Personally,” Jamil interrupted, looking (and feeling, you think) rather apprehensive. “I don’t like the idea that someone can listen into my head. Something as invasive as that should have been shared.”

“Well, I mean it’s not like you share your signature spells with everyone, I mean yours is basically mind control…” Jamil bristled at your comment, making you shrink in. “...I just mean it’s not that different from you.”

“I’d say it’s very different.” Azul replied, which was met with murmurs of agreement from Idia and Jamil. “No offense meant to you Prefect, but we have a right to keep our personal thoughts to ourselves, and using our signature spells on others have led to consequences. Yours does not, and I think we all deserve to know about that.”

You shrank further into yourself, making yourself smaller against the couch. Clenching Riddle’s train in your hands, you tucked your feet under your legs, feeling like a child being discussed at a parent-teacher meeting. 

Leona snorted at the others, stifling a laugh. “Are you so insecure that you’re afraid of the lil’ Herbivore of all people? You know, the one that you three,” he waved a finger at Azul, Jamil, and Riddle as he continued, “are supposed to look after?”

Pathetic, they couldn’t even harm a fly. Not a backbone in that entire body. 

A small offended noise made its way out of your throat as you started to fidget again with Riddle’s train.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but it just reminded you how most of the students viewed you: the helpless Prefect with the trouble making direbeast. 

Someone who needed to be cared for, to be watched over, to be tended to like a child that knows no better. 

I get that they worry…that they feel bad…but I can take care of myself. 

You felt Riddle’s hand cover your own, clenching his train tightly in your grasp. He gave you a squeeze as he narrowed his eyes at Leona. 

Yeah, yeah! Riddle knows it! He’s known me longer than anyone else in this room, he knows!

“I care for the Prefect immensely, as such I’ve done my duty to my friend and more, before anyone else here, I helped them!” Riddle spoke with a firmness that made your heart sink. 

“They’ve done well and have had nothing to worry about with my guidance, I’ve taken responsibility for my actions.” He wrinkled his nose as he snarked, “Unlike some of us.”

Irresponsible! An irresponsible shirk!

Leona stood abruptly, his foot stomping and tail whipping. His ears were pinned to his head as he growled, “You want to say something, Rosehearts? Then say it.”

Self-righteous little prick! 

Riddle stood as Leona did, his hand ripping out of your grasp as he raised his head at the other man. 

“All I’m saying is that some of us have taken effort and time to actually care for our friend, unlike some of us who dropped them the moment they could—”

“They ain’t a baby and I’m not a babysitter!” You uptight brat! “Besides, just because I don’t coddle them doesn’t mean I don’t do my part. I’m only doing what���s required, nothing more!”

Vil scoffed and shushed the two as their voices rose. “Can you two please quiet down? I refuse to be scolded because you can’t behave yourselves. And don’t lump me in with him, Riddle. I do my part.”

Someone here has to make sure they actually know how to take care of themselves—

Idia let out a snort, causing Vil to glare at him as his flames burned brighter in embarrassment. 

“What? What in the world could you possibly have to say? You’re here as well, after all that talk about working with Jupiter Enterprises, and yet you got stuck here due to what your magic did to them. And you don’t even do anything to make up for it!”

“Eh? Says the guy sending makeup and fancy skin lotions! How’s that supposed to help?”

Make them too pretty to cry? Ridiculous!

A pain shot up the side of your head as different voices started to pile up in your mind and ears. The overlapping sounds felt like pins being driven against your temples and between your eyes, like they were begging to burst from your skin and bleed out for space. 

“It’s self-care! Not just making them pretty!” N͈̉oT̐͞ t̜̽H͎A̋ͨt͒ ȳ̛̚Ö́u ẁ͎́ơ̧̓UlD͉͢ K̽n̮̙ͮOW̛̼!ͤͤ́

Fuck! My head!!

The saliva in your mouth turned hot and the back of your throat feeling uneasy, like something was trying to slither out of your stomach. 

“I do have to say, getting the Pr͎̀͞ë͇́̋f̰̒̐ẹcṭ’s͈ a̋b̵͆iͮͨlḭ̙͈t̆̓ïȩ̫s͎ͤ under control is more co_̷̶n̲̋c͗er̟̜͒n̒͊̌iͧn͕̦̮g͔ than—”

Shut up! I gotta—T̤Ḣ͎̥͌e̼̩̩͎̋͞ͅ p̴̡̯͙OͯͮU͓͑́́̚nD̨ͫ̉ͫ͟I͔̓̕͡ͅŃ̮̿g̷̹͇̙̔̔! IT WON’T STOP!

The thrumming against your head grew harsher and harsher, that putrid taste of bile growing along with the sounds. With the pressure—what was that pressure growing in the room? 

O̳͚̽h͕̝͎̞̓̌ͮ p̋l̲̻͒ẹ̭̻ͬ͌̉͢a͙͎̜ͪ͋ͅse̫̔̑.̱̫͈͌͒ “Under control? Maybe under your thumb—”

Child of man?

_ M̠ͦal̘? ṀÅ͜L̵̬͋L̺̞E͈̮͗U͕͖̲S̰̱ͥ!͙ M̸͐̒A̶ͤK͆E I̮̅͜T͑ S̶̸̶̝̦ͯ̃ͯ͌̏͞Ţ̧͖͇ͧͧͧO̝̯P̢̡̝̖͒̓ͮ͠ 

“Don’t impͩͅl̊y̢͍ t́hin̺̒g̱s̵ͤ,̢ͪ Jamil, and you’re one to tal_̈k̨̩͡,̳ͮ͘ especially with your s̨̓i͛g͐̐n̑ͤa̓tṵré̪ s̴̨̬͍̜̳͖̃̀̕p̑̈ͯ͡_eļ̼̯ͣ͊̐ͮ͑̅̈́l.”

Are you a͒̀l̈r͡ig͆̔̽h̵̀t̰̄̃?

IͨT͓ H̖͓Ṳ̀ͮR͕̈́ͥT͗́̕S̮͑ M̠̔Y̘̗͊ H̫EAͬͪ͞D̯̂ I̛͇T̈͛ H̡̚U̗RṰ͐S̩͈̽ AG̬A̧̟I͉̺N̍̏!͈͋  

“Look who’s talking now! I should c̱hop͛ yoͬ̈u up into a s̵̐̈́e̲a̔̕fó̷̘o̡̓ḑ͡—”̄

I̓ͬ́ CA͔Ñ͕ Fͦ E̜ E̡̢̙ L͔̊_ Ȅ̪ V E͓̓̃ R Y T H̗̲ͮ I͉ͤ̇ N̪̝ͣ G 

“̈ȘͮH̎ͅŰ͢͜T͂̅̾ U̵͜P!̞”͊ͫ̐

A piercing, high pitched sound rang through all your ears, like someone rang a whistle straight into them, as everyone cringed in pain. As you clutched your head and collapsed on the ground, an inky, black liquid leaving your mouth along with the bile you puked out. 

“(NAME)!” You think you heard Malleus yelling your name, but it merged with a bombarge of thoughts and cries from everyone else. Frankly, you couldn’t tell what was in your head and what was actually being spoken. 

Two hands moved your hair out of your face, holding it back as someone else used a cold, wet cloth to wipe your mouth clean. As you blinked your eyes open (when did I close them?), a purple light was radiating from your left, you think it was Vil’s magic. 

“Is that blot with their puke? I thought the potion was supposed to reduce blot?”

“It is, it is for me anyways.” 

You’re pretty sure it was Riddle who was holding the cloth to your face while Malleus was holding your hair back and hovering a protective arm around your midsection.

“No matter, they feel feverish, we should help them cool down.”

“Should I call Goethel over?”

A loud, resounding “NO!” made you flinch again, another hand reaching over to cast a cooling spell to soothe you. 

“Ahem.” The bickering immediately quieted, an unamused Goethel at the doorway, with Grim and Othro peeking behind her, looked at the panicked group over you. “Are you all quite done?”

Stutting over as a force to be reckoned with, each man quickly backed away to give her space, all except for Malleus who remained holding you. 

“Draconia, lift their head for me.” You felt a slender hand gently push your chin up as Goethel pressed the tip of her wand against your forehead. 

It was warm. Like the sun itself was covering you in a blanket. 

“Take deep breaths.” That’s it my dear. “Hear my voice.” Focus on my thoughts.

Memories flashed through your head. Two little girls, one with black hair and the other with golden. A tall woman covered in intricate tattoos and piercings warmly smiling. One of a younger VIl with longer, braided hair eagerly watching as Goethel stirred a cauldron and spoke in soft, sweet tones. 

That’s it, it’s safe. You’re safe. “Let’s get some water in you. Gentlemen, could one of you grab the water bottle in my bag? It’s under my desk.”

You heard some shuffling around, Malleus helping you back up onto the couch behind you. Finally opening your eyes, you saw Riddle holding a water bottle up to you, hands hovering as you took it and chugged down as much cold water as you could in one go. 

“S-slow down! You’ll choke.”

Ignoring your friend, you continued drinking as much as you could, water spilling from the corners of your mouth, until you could crush the plastic between your hands. 

Finally taking a breath and feeling clear air in your lungs, you opened your arms for a teary-eyed Grim, who’d been inching closer and closer to your feet. 

(Name)...

He obliged, hopping into your arms and pressed the top of his head against your chin. 

“I noticed something was wrong when Grim suddenly started coughing blot. Now what in the world did you seven do to them?”’

An immediate cry amongst the group made you flinch, voices overlapping once again. 

“Quiet.” 

Like soldiers hearing a command from their superior, everyone immediately shut their mouths, watching Goethel and holding their breaths as if she’d be set off. 

“Now, one at a time, Vil.” She nodded at the blonde who nodded back. “What happened?”

“We were all having a bit of a…’friendly’ argument when the Prefect suddenly dropped and started throwing up…blot of all things.”

Riddle spoke up next to you, though he spoke softly, like you would spook like one of his hedgehogs. 

“It seemed that the more, ah, aggressive our conversation got, the more sick the Prefect became. I’m not sure what exactly—”

“The other’s magic fluctuated as their emotions grew, it had an adverse effect on them.”

The others looked at Malleus in surprise and a bit in awe, you think you heard Jamil whisper to Azul, “he can sense that?” Though Leona snorted. 

“Obviously, no surprise the rest of you couldn’t sense it.”

You finally looked up at the group, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you…”

“A mage’s magic is connected to their emotions and mental state.” Goethel sighed as she patted your head, walking to sit at her desk. “Your magic is especially sensitive to other’s emotional state, hyper-empathetic if you will. Bring these seven in, and you have even more for your magic to source.”

You’re just permanently stuck being interconnected to them.

Lacing her hands together and resting her chin on top, Goethel gave all of you a weary look. 

“As we’ve seen it, the current blot preventative is just that, a preventative. Most of you have had minimal blot production, but you also produce far more than safe when stressed, especially compared to the average mage.”

Far more? But we’ve been doing so well!

“W-what do you mean far more? I thought we were doing well?” Idia looked sick at the thought of overblotting again, though the others didn’t look too hot either.

Goethel looked off to the side with a sad look as she explained. “You do, for the most part. But the trauma of the events has left a permanent scar on your brain. Combined with the fact that the overblots practically happened one after the other, the PTSD keeps you all at a constant state of fight or flight.”

You felt both of your friends next to you tense, a sense of overwhelming dread, not your own, filling your senses.

“You either produce little blot, or far too much of it. The issue with the current potion is that it only removes excess blot for everyday use. Say that something happens that requires significantly more magic and energy, you’d be at an increased risk of a much more deadly overblot.”

Silence. All of you looked down to the ground, Goethel’s words leaving a bleak feeling in the air. As your group processed her words, Goethel took the opportunity to bring her files back up from the cabinet and filter through her papers. 

“With this in mind, we may have a solution to not just reduce your overall blot at the end of the day, but also gradually reduce the amount you produce.”

Goethel gestured for Ortho to come forward, offering him a small stack of papers. As she continued speaking, Ortho handed a sheet to each of you. 

“Something to help bring the hormones in your brain back to balance. And something to help (Name) manage the massive influx of magic they receive through the day.”

Perking up, you eagerly took the paper from Ortho and moved Grim higher in your arms to read the large font at the top of the page: 

EMPRESS APOTHECARIES MEMO: Night Raven College Blot Preventative Project TOPIC: Arcanoexcreta Regulator PROJECT LEAD: Yev Quispe  

“Huh, I didn’t know Yev was—”

“Oh no, absolutely NOT!” You jumped, both from the sudden urgency in your veins and from Vil’s raised voice. 

“I must protest, I was Yev’s housewarden for a single year and the sheer lack of care and foresight of his ‘experiments’ that one year—it could only bode danger for us, especially for the Prefect!”

Vil’s memories of a younger Yev leaving an alchemy room on fire, an explosion in one, Yev covered in hot pink sludge in another, and a last one of Yev giving some random Pomefiore student a pink, unlabeled vial. Vil’s dread filled your own body as the student screamed in pain as their bones and skin snapped and conformed until they were turned into a...llama? Yev only shrugged until Vil came up to him and smacked his forehead.

Goethel sighed, getting up and waving her wand to bring forth a cauldron at the corner of the office, her cabinets opening and pouring different ingredients in. You recognized them for the materials needed for your usual preventative potion. 

“Yev also has made significant progress in the project, and as heir of Empress Apothecaries, he’s made the most donations towards research.” 

No doubt to have the most say in how the project goes. Still…

“As experimental as Mr. Quispe is, I’ve taken a look at what he’s been playing with, and it has promise. I really suggest that you all just have faith. What do you say my dear (Name)?”

Surprised filled your features as you looked at her expectant face, waiting for your answer.

Yev’s a bit of a jerk, but he’s pretty talented in potionology….

“I think it might be worth a try, I’m not opposed to it—”

Riddle scoffed, “Of course you do. Prefect, I care for you but you have no sense of danger.” He flinched at the glare Malleus turned to give him.

Still, he gave Malleus a defiant look and continued. 

“Am I wrong? They’ve had barely a full year of magical education, and during that year they’ve simply gone with what others have said. Can’t blame them for that, but still.”

What did Cater say once, you ‘go with the flow’.

Riddle wasn’t wrong, you tend to go with whatever others told you to do. It comes with the territory of not being from this world. 

The others were fully aware of this fact. At least, they were now. Riddle and Malleus were the only ones that you had explicitly told of the fact. The others had inklings, but never had confirmations until later on. 

You suppose that’s why they tended to take the lead on things regarding you and anything magic related. Even now, when you were a proven mage, they spoke on your behalf. 

You weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

“I agree with Riddle. Are you positive this is a good idea? Not that I’m doubting your decisions, Nurse Goethel!” 

Jamil rapidly backtracked at the look Goethel gave him as he questioned her. 

“It’s just that, well it’s really experimental, and we’ve all been doing fine on the current blot preventive potion…I don’t see a need to change it.”

The others nodded in agreement, each of them sitting in their respective seats as they waited for Goethel to finish making the latest batch of potion. The lavender buds on the window sill matched the purple color and floral scent of the potion.

“Besides that, Yev’s potion is for a class project, is it not?” Vil piped up, moving over to assist Goethel, like it came naturally to him. “Leave it at that, then. We’ve been doing just fine with the current preventative, it’s already highly experimental as it is…”

The room jumped as Goethel flicked her wrist, making the cupboard slam harsher than usual, turning to narrow her gaze at the 8 of you. 

The rest of you curled into yourselves, Leona especially avoided her gaze, images of his sister-in-law with a similar look floating in his head. Except for Idia, who decided that focusing on his phone and earbuds in hand was ideal. 

He also went with the flow like you, though that was more so he wouldn’t be bothered. 

“Are you doubting my abilities, Mr. Viper? Mr. Rosehearts? Mr. Schoenheit?” Goethel hissed through gritted teeth. She’d always been stricter on the others than you.

“Did I not take you under my wing since your first year? Did I not mentor you? Did I not give you access to my stock of poisons and herbs? And yet, you are doubting my abilities? My insight? My medical expertise?”

Vil shook his head and smiled politely. “Of course not, Nurse Goethel, it was a slip of the tongue. I completely trust you and your expertise, I just meant that these types of potions aren’t necessarily something I’d trust a student with making.”

Goethel relaxed, gesturing for Vil to help her at the cauldron. He followed, quickly and easily following in her steps with no words exchanged. 

“While it’s true that he is using it as part of the potionology project that dear Riddle and (Name) are in, I think having the two of them observe and report back to me would counter any concerns that I’d normally have.”

It was fluid, hypnotic, almost dance-like as the two worked around each other. Hands exchanging vials, the wave of a maroon-stoned wand, the soft mutterings of a spell. Even a soft glowing aura was leaving their hands as they worked. 

A reminder of just how much more powerful, adept, they were compared to you. 

“I understand, but do you really think I’d give you any potion without checking it myself? What a ridiculous notion.”

The rest of you relaxed again as she preoccupied herself with her potion making. She had a box full of empty vials labeled with each of your names floating from her closet to the table, though Malleus and Idia had bigger vials than the rest of you.

“What have you guys been taking with yours?” You’d taken to sitting criss-cross on the floor, Grim settled on your lap while Malleus remained behind you on the couch.. 

“Tea, a herbal one before I go to bed.” Riddle answered first, settling back into his seat. “The flavor matches best.”

“Water, myself.” Vil went second, handing Goethel different times as she made her batch. Jamil nodded along Vil and made a comment. 

“Same, it’s best to take medications with water anyways.” 

“Sure, sure, but have you had it with a charged lemonade? I could chug those forever” Idia sighed, his thoughts filled with the image of some cafe’s large pink lemonade. “I can’t believe they’re discontinuing it…”

“Didn’t 3 people die because of how high the caffeine content is in those?” Leona replied, ear flicking in your group’s direction as he watched the few students walking around outside. 

“Ya, but it’s not my problem that they’re too dumb to realize that their stats just can’t handle the lemonade. There’s a label on it for a reason. Besides, they had like 5 in one sitting, I only had three!”

“How do you not have a heart condition, Idia?” Jamil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Instead, he decided to turn to you instead and ask, “What about you, Prefect? Malleus? What do you two take.”

Malleus grew a small, soft smile, gesturing to you. “My Child of Man comes up with different combinations, and we try them together to see what is best. We’ve been doing mostly espresso-based drinks as of late, I have to say though it’s not my favorite…”

The others looked a mix of surprise and mild amusement. Each of them certainly had their own opinions. 

How sweet, I never imagined Malleus having such a soft spot for the Prefect. 

Aw, that’s quite cute, I understand what Rook was saying about you two being a sweet match. 

Ew, with the lizard? Seriously? I know you’re listening. Herbivore: get better standards.

Damn. I thought he’d be lonely forever, just like meeee…F-M-L…

I’m surprised that Malleus never came after us for how we treated you Prefect, did you sugarcoat the fact that I launched you to your death in the desert? I don’t know if I should be thankful or concerned. 

However, Azul’s thoughts were preoccupied with other concerns. You thought it would be about a certain eel, you were expecting it, actually. Instead, a pink-haired, lanky boy popped into your head. 

Ugh, now that I’m really thinking about it… Dammit Aspen! Do you even realize the trouble you’re probably bringing to yourself? Are you lying to me when you say everything is fine at Ramshackle? You must be, there’s no way the Prefect isn’t upset, I know how you are! I know what you think! How am I supposed to protect my little brother if he’s too stubborn to tell me anything!?

You could just feel the anxiety radiating off him as different scenarios of Aspen getting bullied and picked on by the other student in Ramshackle ran through his head like a train wreck. 

Suddenly, like he’d been poked by a hot metal stick, Azul snapped up to glare at you. 

ACK! Stop it! You’re making my brain itch, how do you even—just stop listening!

You made a popping sound with your lips, looking back down at Grim to scratch at his forehead. 

“Mmm, can we still get that cav-ee-ar later with Hornton?”

Malleus looked at you in curiosity as you leaned over to murmur to him.

“Grim wants me to ask you to buy us fancy food from the Mostro Lounge. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Malleus smiled and gave a soft caress to the back of your head. 

“Is that what you’d like?”

Shrugging, you opened your mouth to reply when Goethel suddenly cleared her throat. Looking at her, she’d already separated the potion into the various vials, now all floating above her head. 

“It’s done. You’ll return in one month once again for your next batch. Hopefully by then, we can choose a select few of you to test the new potion. Once you’ve checked that you’ve received all 30 doses, you can leave.”

The group of you all eagerly grabbed your vials, some like Leona and Idia just taking them and leaving, while Riddle, Vil, and Jamil all double-checked to ensure they had the correct amount.

Azul, surprisingly, also left without checking the count. You saw an image of Jade, looking fondly at some sort of flower in a makeshift greenhouse, flash through your mind as he bolted out of the room at surprising speed. 

Child of Man. “Here.” Malleus grabbed your attention by holding your share of the potions in his left hand, gesturing for you to take them. 

“I already counted for you. Now I believe you were wanting to eat at Ashengrotto’s establishment, correct?”

Getting up with an eager Grim squirming in your arms, now chattering about fancy fish and drinks, you smiled and shrugged. 

“Yes they do! Henchhuman wants fancy food, right? Right?!”

Cav-ee-ar! Sashimi! Crab and lobster! Gimme all of it!

“Ah, if you don’t mind Hornton, I’m happy with whatever.”

Malleus tilted his head at you and smirked, chuckling to himself as he offered an arm for you to grab. 

“Then we shall get lunch, if not to at least sate your beastie’s appetite.”

Grim cheered as he pranced out of the office, not unlike a kitten. You and Malleus followed in a comfortable silence as you made your way to the Hall of Mirrors.

You sighed leaning against Malleus’s side as you two walked. It was now midday, so most students were in their rooms relaxing and eating lunch, leaving you three to take a private walk. 

“Are you alright, my Child of Man?” Malleus murmured, titling his head as his eyes wandered over your form. “You seem tired, are you sure you’re dealing with your magic adequately?”

Nodding, you looped your arm around his left, swinging it back and forth. He let you, his arms going slack as he chuckled to himself.

Silly human. 

“You like that I’m silly, it’s why you keep me around~” You teased, giggling as he suddenly moved you to twirl in front of him. “Besides, I’m handling everything just fine.”

Even just now? A memory from just a moment ago of you hunched over on the ground as Malleus watched in horror as puke mixed with blot made you sick. You think you could feel Malleus’s panic from the memory as well. 

“Ugh, can you think of something else? The memory makes me feel sick…did you feel sick when I did that?”

Malleus frowned, looking away guiltily at Grim, who was far enough ahead of you guys happily prancing down the path that he couldn’t hear you two. 

I apologize. “You’ve always been particularly empathetic, I forget that translated rather harshly into your magic.” 

You wrinkled your nose at that. “Yeah, it’s weird feeling feelings that aren’t my own. Only happens when all of you are with me though.”

Hmm, that’s something I suppose. “Better than having you get overwhelmed everyday. Are the three young ones good at being mentors to you? You seem rather close to Rosehearts.”

“Yeah!” You smiled, giggling as you saw Grim tapping his food impatiently at the Octavinelle mirror. “He’s a bit overbearing sometimes, but overall he means well.”

Good, as long as they are taking care of you. It’s the least they can do. 

“Horns…” You clicked your tongue, finally entering the mirror and into the dorm’s waters. The bubble was larger than usual, accommodating Malleus’s tall stature. “I’m not a child you know…you would sneak away from Silver and Sebek all the time so I don’t know why you also think I need to be taken care of like one!”

“Nyah! Yeah! My henchhuman only needs me!” Grim proudly puffed up his chest jumping back onto his usual spot on your shoulder. 

“Of course, that’s not what we really mean, my Child of Man.” Malleus pouted, following you to the entrance of the lounge where a random Octavinelle student was working at host. 

Your friend seemed oblivious to the other student’s awe and fear on his face as they rapidly gathered two menus. 

“I just want to feel secure that we all do our part to ensure your success in our world.” To repent…

You opened your mouth to retort, but you were interrupted by a familiar clearing of the throat. 

“Prefect! Grim! Malleus! How wonderful for me that you all decided to drop by!” Azul had a big smile on his face, though you could tell it seemed strained. 

He took the menus from the worker’s hands, waving them away which they were more than happy to do. 

“I was just going to call for you, my dear (Name). Shall I have Floyd take the other two to your table while you and I go to my office to discuss certain, personal matters?”

Grim bristled on your shoulder, sticking a tongue out at Azul, then yelping as Floyd suddenly popped out from behind Azul with a grin. 

EEP!

“Heya Baby Seal! Let’s take you and Sea Slug to a real nice table, the boss gotta talk to Shrimpy for a bit.” Floyd giggled as he took the menus from Azul’s hand, strutting over with his signature lazy grin. 

Malleus hummed, narrowing his eyes at the other two as Grim did his best to hide behind you. 

“I’d rather spend my short amount of time here with my friend, perhaps we can join you?”

Is it something that can wait, Child of Man?

“I’d rather meet with them one-on-one, it’s about a particularly…personal matter. Wouldn’t you say, Little Pearl?”

An image of Jade once again popped into your mind as Azul gave you a polite smile.

“Well? I’m sure you understand, it won’t take long at all.”

Huffing, you gestured for Malleus to go as you handed him a whiny Grim, who’d taken to digging his claws into your cape. 

“It’s fine Hornton, I’ll try to be quick, just get me some water.”

Alright. He nodded, as Grim cried out. 

“Noooooo! Don’t let them anemone you like me! Stay strong henchhuman!”

You felt bad hearing Grim’s cries, but focused on following Azul, who remained rather quiet, only audibly though. 

Now that I know for sure you can hear me, please be calm. I’d rather not have a rampaging dragon in my restaurant due to a misconstructed reaction. 

Huffing once again, you crossed your arms as Azul opened the door to his office and gestured for you to enter with a flourish of his arm.

You took your usual seat on the right side couch, closest to the desk as Azul took his own seat. Taking his overcoat off and gently folding it over the chair, along with his scarf and hat on his desk, Azul heavily sighed. 

Crossing his fingers together and resting his chin on top, Azul finally spoke.

“Now, (Name), let us talk about our mutual friend, yes?”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[silverskyeline]

logan howlett - nsfw alphabet / 18+

oneshot (request) - the letters 'LOGAN' for the NSFW alphabet! (800 words) pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x gn!reader tags: public sex, voyeurism, car sex, oral (reader receiving), collar, leash, praising a/n: tysm for the request! i was so excited to do this one - i hope it's okay for you anon! i just kept it to nsfw ones for now but i'm definitely coming back and doing one for his second name for the sfw one! tw: smut! minors dni 18+ only

ੈ♡˳ L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

oh logan will do you anywhere, any time he can get his paws on you. those rough, calloused experienced hands trailing across your thigh while he drives. watching him eagerly as he pulls over on the side of the road and pulls you desperately into his lap, his cock already hard and ready beneath you, straining through his denim jeans.

or maybe you're at the bar, watching as he knocks back drink after drink, his eyes suggestively drifting towards the bathroom. it's not long before he has you pressed up against the cool tiled wall, in contrast to the heat from his hips as he connects with you over and over. . . filling the small public bathroom with lewd slapping noises while his cock pistons in and out of you, whispering for you to 'shut your fucking mouth'. but in reality, he'd love it if someone heard the two of you.

but most of all, he loves having you at home, in his bed. then he can really make you scream, really make you whimper and beg and plead him to make you cum over and over and over. . . and he will, fuck, you know he will.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

ੈ♡˳ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

as much as he loves seeing your pretty little mouth take his cock, he loves using his mouth on you way more. he's messy, sloppy, using that tongue like it was made to make you cum. he sucks and fucks and moans against you, eyes locked up on yours all the while as he watches you writhe under his deliberate and focused licks.

god, he loves watching you - could watch you all day, in fact. his stubble pricks against your thighs, leaving your skin red and raw. if you're lucky, he'll kiss his way along those delicate marks later, depends if you'll be good and cum when he tells you to.

ੈ♡˳ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

honestly, logan isn't the type to get too goofy. but if he's close with you, if you've been together a while? he'll let his guard down. he'll chuckle instead of growl when his belt gets caught in his jeans when you're trying to take them off. he'll smirk instead of snarl when you tease him a little too much. and he'll banter with you as he offers you a puff from his cigar after he's had his way with you.

a draw of his cigar? wow, you are special.

ੈ♡˳ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

usually, you're too fucked out to offer him any kind of aftercare. he's often like an animal, greedy, ready to go again and again as you lay there gasping for breath. logan, on the other hand, is more than happy to provide. he knows how rough he can be, knows that he needs to be careful with you.

he spends his time slowly kissing up along your ankle, calf, thigh, watching with keen interest and a smug, proud smirk as his cum slowly leaks out of you. when he reaches your waist, his hands grip it tightly, massaging the soft skin before lowering himself beside you, curling against the shape of your body and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a soft growl.

logan would watch as your breathing slows to a normal pace, brown eyes flitting from your chest to your face, simply watching you. "that's it. . ." he'd whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, cooing compliments as you come down from your high.

you'd fall asleep in his arms, relaxed, safe - but you'd certainly feel the effects of just how hard he fucked you the next day.

ੈ♡˳ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there's not much he hasn't tried, he's been around for a long time after all. if he's in a good mood, he's open to suggestions, he'll fuck you like an animal, make you wear a collar, pull on your leash. . . but turn offs?

at first, he'd be absolutely against pet names and praise. it's not until it slips from your lips for a third time after he's scolded you that he realises how much he actually likes it.

it's not often that he behaves well enough to be called a 'good boy', though.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

[kendyzzlewp]

The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON

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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.

tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol

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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”

Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.

“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”

His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”

Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”

“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”

Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“

You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.

“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”

You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.

“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”

Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.

“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”

A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.

They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.

“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”

You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”

Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.

Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”

He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”

Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.

“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”

Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”

“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.

Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”

Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”

The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.

“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.

He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”

[imaginesig]

“Could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived”

pt2: "Ditch the clowns, get the crown / baby I'm the one to beat"

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

SMAU

The reader is a singer-songwriter who just broke up with long term fiancé Lewis Hamilton. Of course she wrote a gut wrenching album to cope.

This is gonna be a lot of shitting on Lewis— absolutely no hate! I just love a good heartbreak and the Tortured Poets Department

Also dates aren’t accurate bc I don’t have time to worry abt all that and I totally stole all of this from real life- not an ounce of originality

yn_ln

Liked by lewishamilton, mercadesamgf1, user28, and 928,928 others

yn_ln: pinky promise to always by your side 🏎️

Tagged: lewishamilton

lewishamilton pinky promise to always be by YOUR side

yn_ln ♥️

mercadesamgf1 always a pleasure to host our pop princess!

yn_ln always a pleasure to be hosted!!

user1 looks always kill in the paddock

user2 ugh to be in the F1 paddock watching my driver fiancee on weekends I'n not touring

user3 stunning!!

user4 the pinky promise makes me physically ill😭

user5 fr WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN

carmenmmundt gorgeous! Always a good time with you 🫶

yn_ln dinner soon?

carmenmmundt yes please!!

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lewishamilton

Liked by yn_ln, user2, mercadesamgf1, and 810,298 others

lewishamilton: could’ve been better but back to work for next week

Tagged: yn_ln

user1 being a Hamilton fan used to be fun, I used to be happy

user2 the second photo is so fanfic coded I can't

user3 omg yes!!

user4 maybe Ferrari will be championship #8

user5 hottest couple in the paddock

mercadesamgf1 watch out Australia 👊💥

yn_ln

Liked by lewishamilton, sabrinacarpender, user92, and 929,290 others

yn_ln: Argentina I’m so glad we were able to dance my best dress with you! Until next time 🫶🎇

tagged: no one

user1 BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE

user2 babe wake up a dancing Taylor post just dropped

sabrinacarpender such an electric crowd!!

yn_ln thank you for your hype work

lewishamilton: wonderful show once again!!

user3 best night ever

user4 AHHH STUNNING

user5 manifesting tickets so hard rn

lewishamilton posted a story

Caption: Help me hold on to you ♥️

ynupdates

Liked by user1, user5, user9, and 819,109 others

ynupdates: Superstar Y/n L/n and boyfriend Lewis Hamilton after her show in Argentina!!

tagged: lewishamilton, yn_ln

user1 LMAO the update account rlly said she's everything and he's just Ken

user2 the wine was iconic!!

user3 omg that's my photo!!

user4 we thank you for your service

user5 you know she was jumping with joy bc of those boots

user6 omg irl! I can't imagine how her feet feel after heels all show

user7 they are so sweet

user8 get yourself a man who takes you out after work

user9 my fav couple fr fr

Twitter—

yn_ln

liked by sabrinacarpender, carmenmmundt, user9, and 928,029 others

ln_yn: Round of applause for Brazil for their incredible rain show!!

tagged no one

user1 the first pic 😳

user2 chills, literal chills

user3 the entire vibes of the whole show was wow

user4 I agree and I was watching through a fuzzy live stream

user5 anybody else need illicit affairs (angry verson) on Spotify now

user6 me me me!!

user7 Y/n make it happen

user8 it kinda felt personal ngl

user9 best night ever!! I went as fearless in a gold dress and to say I danced in a storm in my “best dress” with Y/n was incredible!!

user10 omg that’s so lucky!!

yn_ln

liked by user92, sabrinacarpender, girlsinred, and 928,929 others

yn_ln: Thank you South America for welcoming me with open arms for this leg of the tour!! I will miss you all dearly over break but rest and relaxation is important for an awesome European leg!!

tagged: no one

user1 I’m gonna miss the fuzzy live streams 😭

user2 gets some rest Queen!!

user3 I can’t wait for the second leg!! Let’s go Europe🫶🫶

user4 it’s go time to get my Eras outfit

user8 I need ideas!!

user4 me and my boyfriend are going as Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

user9 I’m dressing in a white dress with a small veil that says “fucked in the head” and messed up makeup bc champagne problems is one of my favs

user10 I love it!!

user5 anybody else sad Lewis wasn’t at these last few shows, nor was she at any races or seen near mercades home base

user6 they’ve been together for 6 years, I’m not worried abt them spending some time focused on their jobs without each other

user7 yea and they’re really private so I’m sure they’ll catch up plenty during her break

lewishamilton

liked by mercadesamgf1, user1, user8, and 928,292 others

lewishamilton: not the results we needed but that’s what growing is all about

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lewishamilton

liked by georgerussel, mercadesamgf1, user83, and 718,292 others

lewishamilton: that’s P2💪

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mercadesamgf1 that's our driver!!🏆

georgerussell congrats man! bloody good driving today

lewishamilton double point weekend

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Twitter—

yn_ln

liked by user4, user9, ynhq, and 918,918 others

yn_ln: All’s fair in love and poetry, April 4th

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comments have been limited

Twitter pre-album release—

Twitter post-album release—

yn_ln

liked by: user433, user94, user93, and 282,209 others

yn_ln: surprise!! "The Tortured Poets Department: Eros" out now!! This edition includes two new songs, "So High School" and "The Alchemy"

tagged: no one

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[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,818

Warning: dirty talk, language, making out, wedding duties (lol), oral sex, smutty smut

A/N: Our final part 🥹💚 wow what a journey! There will be an epilogue for our sweet beans next week! Along with the start of the Best Friend!Suguru series.I'm so sorry for the late post, I was so sick yesterday and sleepy from my medication! But better late than never! ! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight

For two days, two days, you and Satoru spent most of the time in your room. Wrapped up in your sheets, him on top of you, you on top of him. You only separated for the rehearsal dinner and getting your nails done. But the second you were back in his arms, he made up for the lost time like you had been gone for years. His lips were on yours in slow, gentle kisses that became passionate.

Those same kisses would end on the futon, which probably had seen more action in the last forty-eight hours than since the inn opened. Satoru bent you in all different positions, twisting you like a pretzel, stretching you in ways you didn't even know was possible. He made it his goal to make up for the year and a half that you didn’t sleep with anyone. Gojo Satoru turned you into a mess- a withering mess.

“Oooh holy shit.” you cried out, gripping the blanket, “fuuuuck oooh fuck Satoru.”

“Yeah~? Does that feel good~?”

“S-So good~!”

“Mhmm~ good.”

Fingers moved gently, expertly making your back arch, jaw opening in a soft cry of pleasure. Satoru bit his lip, his fingers increasing the pressure against you. Cerulean eyes narrowed, focusing on your face, watching how your eyes rolled back and your face flushed.

“T-Toru~Toru.” Toes curled as you cried softly, eyes watering.

“Oooh yeah~ you gonna cum~?”

Blinking, you lift an eyebrow, watching Satoru wiggle his at you. His fingers are massaging into your sore feet, kneading away knots and easing the aching muscles. Both of you were fully clothed, sitting on the back porch overlooking the gardens. Anyone around would have assumed you both were doing the deed from how loud you were being.

“Oh my god, was I being that loud?”

“What~? No!” You relaxed a little, your feet still in his lap. Thumbs worked at a particularly sore spot, making you whine again. “I’m pretty sure Suguru heard that whine, and he's in Tokyo.”

“Ya’ know what—”

You try pulling your feet away, only to have Satoru yank them back into his lap, inadvertently pulling you closer to him. “Stop, I'm just teasing. Let me do this.” his fingers continue working, moving gently over your feet. “You were in the kitchen all morning, making a three-tier wedding cake. Then those ‘friends’ of yours make you wear heels to take pictures. And you have to wear heels for the wedding tomorrow?” Satoru shook his head, white tufts of hair swaying.

“I offered to bake the cake, the benefit of having a baker as a friend.” His thumbs hit a sore spot, making you jolt. “But the heels are torture.”

“They seem like it.”

A soft, comfortable silence filled with chirping crickets and a distant wind chime grew between you. You just sat there while Satoru rubbed at your sore feet under the blanket of glittering stars. You had one more day together here in Kyoto, then a train ride back home, and you would be back to reality. A reality that had changed drastically over the last week.

When you both retired to your room, you lay in bed staring at the ceiling in thought. You had gone from a woman who was quiet, shy, and hell-bent on not needing anyone to this giggly, joyful woman who couldn’t be any happier. Satoru had peeled away at the layers of scar tissue you had hidden yourself in. He brought a certain confidence out in you. Being with him was as easy as breathing; even when you returned home to your mundane lives, you had faith you both would continue to strive forward. To keep your relationship going strong.

Strong as the urge to stay in bed with him all day despite your fellow bridesmaids pounding on your door the next morning. Satoru grumbled in horny frustration; his cock was pressed firmly over your barely clothed core. You pulled your lips away from his neck, pushing your hair back, groaning at the sudden interruption.

“I have to go, Toru.” You pulled off of him, giggling as he threw his head back. “Hey~ don’t be like that; we’ll pick up where we left off tonight.”

“Wedding sex is the best kind of sex. Especially when you’re on a sugar rush.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, grinning ear to ear. “That sounds enticing.” Satoru sat up on his elbows, licking his lips.

“Oh, it’s gonna happen tonight,” Satoru promised with a shake of his head. “I promise you that.”

Another knock at the door, “If you don’t come out! We’re coming in! Regardless of how indecent you two are!” A series of knocks sounded from the other side of the door by several different hands from the sound of it.

”I better go before they knock down the door.” With a pout, you leaned down, kissing Satoru goodbye before heading out. “I’ll see you later!” just before you shut the door to the room, you pouted as Satoru watched, sticking his bottom lip out. “It’s just three hours, babe!”

Three hours flew by before you knew it. The excitement of getting ready for the wedding and seeing your best friend practically buzzing in anticipation fueled everyone's energy. While you were bouncing up and down eagerly waiting to see Satoru in a tailored suit. Just imagining him had you grinning as you stared out the bridal suite window, looking towards the garden decorated for the joyous event.

“So, when are you and Satoru getting married?”

”Eh!?” All of your friends surrounded you, devilish smiles gracing their faces. “I-I—we are not getting married!” At least not yet. “We’ve barely started going out.” Literally. “There’s no indication that we're even considering that!”

“Oh, please!”

“Says the girl that’s been locked in her room with said boyfriend for the last two days!”

Your face burned like a fresh sunburn. “S-So! That does not mean that we’re getting married anytime soon!” All of your friends booed in protest. “Will the whole lot of you stop? Seriously, I don’t want you guys scaring off Satoru!” The bride stepped forward in her gown and all of her glory. “Finally, Mina, will you please talk some sense into them!?” Your best friend looked amongst the other girls, all dressed in a beautiful sky blue. For a moment, you thought she might take your side. But the second a smirk at the corner of her mouth, you knew she didn’t have your back.

“I was going to ask you the same question! The man would’ve fucked you against the wall at the bar no one stopped him!”

“Oh my God!”

“I’m serious! I think I’ll hand you the bouquet when I toss it!”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh, I think I will!”

“We are not getting married—not yet!”

Satoru sat off to the side, right next to your parents, as the wedding started. He watched with wide and sparkling eyes as you walked down the aisle with a groomsman. Your hair was styled beautifully, and the flowing sky-blue dress looked stunning on your figure and complimented your skin tone. His mouth felt suddenly dry as you looked at him, giving him a gentle, sweet smile. Cupid himself must have shot him through the heart at that moment because fuck, he was falling so hard for you.

“Ma’am—“ he learned next to your mother's ear, “just so you know, the next wedding we host here will be ours.”

“Huh?!”

Her reaction didn’t even seem to faze him. All he cared about was standing near the front of an outdoor arch decor with flowers of different colors—a gentle breeze brushed by you, making your hair and the dress flow. Even when the bride made her grand entrance, everyone turned to see her walking down the aisle towards her future husband. Satoru had his eyes locked on you.

You could feel his eyes, and that burning sensation had your focus transfixed on him. Was it wrong to be looking at your wedding date instead of the bride-to-be? The chances of that were very likely. But how could you not stare back? When his eyes burned holes into your very soul and left your heart racing like you had just run a marathon. It was impossible to pay attention to anyone else.

He was so handsome. Satoru was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched your dress. His navy blue jacket and pants were tailored to his body perfectly. You could tell by its appearance that it was expensive. It was probably more expensive than your best friend's wedding dress. You wanted to rip it off of him and let him take you right there in the garden.

Yes, he was extremely good-looking. But it wasn’t his clothes or his appearance or the fact that he had money that made you so attracted to him at that moment. The way he looked at you, eyes trailing over your body, with a soft grin, told you everything you needed to know. Satoru truly cared for you. This wasn’t just about sex, and it wasn’t the magic of the wedding to be. Chemistry, connection, and attraction were one hundred percent genuine.

After exchanging vows and rings, hundreds of pictures were taken with everyone. You were finally free from your wedding duties. The first thing you did as soon as you broke away from the rest of the group was run to Satoru’s side. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you tight to his chest. Lips pressed against the temple of your head, and you could’ve sworn he let out a little sigh of happiness to have you back in his arms.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He cupped a strand of hair behind your ear before gently reaching down, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Is it wrong for me to say you’re even more beautiful than the bride?”

“Satoru!” you playfully punched at his shoulder, “I am not.”

“Oh, you are; that’s a god-given fact, sweetheart.” His thumbs brushed ever so lovingly over your cheek. “But there’s just one thing I would change about the outfit.”

“You and me both.” You winced, moving your arm away from the scratchy sequins top. “This material is an absolute nightmare for my underarms. I’m serious. You’ll probably have to put lotion on them for me later.”

“Oh.” Satoru deadpans. “ I wasn’t talking about the material.”

You hum in thought, looking over the dress for any flaws he may have noticed. “Oh?” When you didn’t find anything else wrong with the dress in your eyes, you tilted your head, looking up at Satoru. “Well, what would you change about it then?” His hand gently pulled your face closer to his own; he leaned down, the fresh smell of minty lemonade coaxing your nostrils.

“I’d change the color.”

“Wait, what?”

Your date says nothing for a beat of silence. “So anyways! Let’s grab our seats; I’ll get you one of the cocktails!”

He rambles on while you’re still stuck on how he would change the color of your dress. Surely, he meant he would do a different shade or maybe red instead of blue; there’s no possible way that he was talking about it to white. Yeah, he didn’t mean that at all! Your friends just put the stupid notion in your head that you guys are going to get married next. You didn’t even know what the two of you were yet. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship.

What you did know was that Satoru wanted to make your relationship work. So you knew for sure that you weren’t just another fuck buddy or client. This went deeper than that. What you both had was real, which was a lot more than other couples had. So who knew, maybe your friends were right? Perhaps Satoru had thought that white would make your dress look one million times better.

These were questions and answers for another day. You weren’t going to rush into things. Both of you wanted to take your time and get to know one another.

And you learned a lot of things about him as the party began. Like how he despised the taste of alcohol, he had mentioned it in passing when he walked you to the bachelorette party. But when he accidentally took a sip of a cocktail unintentionally, not knowing it had alcohol in it, the man sputtered and choked. His hands grabbed a cola from the bartender, chugging it like water. You learned that he was a pretty good dancer. He bumped and ground with you on the dance floor while the music blared. You learned how gentle his hands were as he slowly danced with you to one of the many love songs the DJ played.

He was so tentative to you. He’d always make sure you had a drink of some kind. He insisted that you drink plenty of water to avoid getting drunk. He even went to the room and grabbed your sandals when your high heels bothered you. God, he was everything and then some. If you hadn’t called for each other, he truly would have made this wedding a lot of fun for you. There was no doubt that he was worth every penny you were willing to spend to have a good time.

The party has toned down almost entirely, a few stragglers drunkenly laughing and drinking while others chat while eating the vanilla and raspberry compote cake you had made. Your best friend and her husband are one of two couples on the floor dancing to a slow song. The other was Satoru and the flower girl who had been smitten with his white hair and blue eyes. She was convinced he was Prince charming and begged him to dance with her. Satoru jumped at the opportunity. Gently placing her little feet on top of his shoes as he danced with her to the slow beat of the music.

Your gaze was locked on him as you nursed a cup of coffee between your hands. He was so perfect in every way, shape, and form. Satoru had made this one of the best nights of your entire life. God, you don’t think you’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding before. It was all thanks to him that you were having one of the most memorable nights of your life.

Those deep, happy thoughts are cut short when a tiny, chubby hand gently smacks your cheek. The sudden contact has you jumping, nearly spilling the hot coffee over your hands as you turn to see who has smacked you. You’re met with beautiful, big navy-colored eyes—dark tufts of hair spill over the head as the baby gently smacks your cheek again.

“Please don’t hit me, I have my kid.” a familiar voice speaks, “and don’t yell, please.”

You scoff, cocking an eyebrow up at Toji as he sits down in the chair next to you. “Are you seriously using your kid as a human shield?” Your ex shakes his head before looking over his shoulder, searching for someone.

“I cannot confirm nor deny that.” He cradles the babbling baby in his lap. “But if my wife is around, I will deny every word.”

“So you are using your child as a human shield.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”

“What do you want, Toji?”

He cradles his son in one arm, reaching into his suit jacket with his free hand. Toji pulls out a manila envelope and places it in front of you. Gingerly, taking it off the table, you open it and find the money you had left in the kitchen the other day. The money he almost ruined your relationship with Satoru over and the money you’d spent on him

He exhales deeply through his nose before clearing his throat. “What I did was wrong.” His son babbles, chubby little hands pulling the sleeve of his jacket. “I just wanted to apologize for everything that happened. I broke your heart, not once but twice. You, of all people, don’t deserve to be treated like that.” You cock an eyebrow. “And no, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I just wanted to say that I was sorry. For breaking off our engagement the way that I did. For almost sabotaging your relationship with that brat over there.” His head jerks in Satoru’s direction.

“Yeah, you almost fucked that up for me.”

“Well, luckily, you guys worked it out.”

“Yeah, we did.” For the first time all week, you don’t feel the slightest bit of dread being near Toji. Maybe it was because you slapped the shit out of him, or perhaps it was because you felt as though your last confrontation was able to heal your wounds. “He’s a great guy.”

“Great for an escort.”

“Former escort.” You correct him with a smug smile. “Satoru sent in his resignation letter on Thursday after we talked.”

Toji’s eyes went wide before they softened with a gentle gaze that you hadn’t seen since high school. “Well shit, I guess I had him pegged wrong.” Taking another sip of your coffee, you giggle before resting your chin on your fist.

“I thought you said you were the greatest PI.”

“Nah, I’m one of the best.” Toni leans back, and in this light, you can see the slight discoloration on his face from both you and Satoru’s hits the other day. “I’m far from being the greatest. I wasn’t for you, but—“ he pressed his lips against his son’s head. “I’m trying to be a better person for this brat and my wife.”

“You always were an asshole.” Your point-blank statement had him wincing. “But if you hadn’t been an asshole, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today. So thanks for being a dick.”

Toji tilts his head, chuckling. “You’re welcome, I guess.” A squealing babble has both you and Toji glancing down at his son. He gently gums at his father’s jacket, drooling over the fabric. Toji sighs and gently lifts the baby to stare at him. When he does, those navy blue eyes glance towards his chest that's straining against the fabric. His son smacks his lips in hunger. “Fuck, I gotta find my wife; the little shits hungry again. And I’d rather not have him gnawing at my pecs.” He stands and pauses before turning his child to face you.

The tiny human gurgles at you, tilting his head. “Uhm, Toji, I can’t feed him.” Your ex rolls his eyes so hard you can almost hear it.

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, I just—“ he sighs, “this is my son, Fushiguro Megumi.” You can’t help but smile at his name; a blessing.

“Well, hello there, Megumi.” You gently pet his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you; whatever you do, don’t turn out to be like your father.”

Toji barks out a sharp laugh, nodding his head. “Yeah, that’s for sure.” Megumi laughs loudly, smacking his hands against your face.

“Toji!” Both of you turn to see a woman with dark hair waving at him.

“That’s the wife, we’re leaving.” He cradles Megumi into his side ever so gently. “I’m sorry again for all the shit I put you through in the past and well in the last week.”

“Well, all that shit led me to someone pretty great.” Your eyes drift back to Satoru, who's walking the little girl back to her parents. “All those years of putting up with you gave me some good karma.”

“For putting up with me, you deserve the world.” He scoffs hurriedly to join his wife. “Later.”

You wave goodbye to him, returning to your cup just as Satoru joins you. Two plates with cake in his hands. “Was that Toji!?” His ocean eyes meet yours, searching for any sign or tears of frustration. “The hell did he want?” He shoves the sweet cake into his mouth before offering you a bite, which you eagerly take.

“Mhm, he just wanted to give me the money he owed me.”

“What you should have given him was a knuckle sandwich.” Your soft giggle has butterflies swarming inside his stomach.

“I already gave him one, so I’ll gladly take the money this time.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He takes another bite of cake. “It would be a shame for you to bruise those knuckles again.”

You press your body against him, relishing in the warmth. “You know I don’t even care anymore. I got hurt in the past. I wallowed in my self-pity for over a year. But things are starting to look up for me now.” He hummed, turning to press a kiss against your forehead. “All thanks to my—“You hesitate, not sure if you want to be the one to put a label on your relationship.

“Boyfriend.” Satoru finishes for you, making your hearts swell with joy.

“Yes, my boyfriend.”

Satoru takes one last bite of his cake before wiping the mixture of whipped cream and buttercream off with his thumb. “Mmm, I love hearing you say that. It sounds so damn pretty rolling off your tongue.” You grinned, gently gripping his hand on your own, squeezing it as you stood.

“Wanna see what else I can do with my tongue~?”

Without hesitation, your boyfriend stands up from the table, following you down the hall. “Oooh? Is the sugar kicking in?” Satoru quickly takes the lead from you, dragging you down the hall and towards the guest rooms.

“It’s not just the sugar.” You correct him. “It’s you.”

The second you step into the room, and the door is slammed shut, Satoru’s on you, cupping your face, kissing you deeply with a guttural moan. You return the kiss, tasting the sweet, tangy remains of the cake on his tongue that worked its way into your mouth. You’re moaning, pushing his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground as you start working on the buttons of his shirt.

While you do that, Satoru runs his hands down your back, searching for a zipper or buttons, only to discover an intricate series of strings. He breaks the kiss, looking down at the saliva connecting your lips before he forces you to turn around so he can start working on the corset holding you hostage. His fingers struggle with the silky strings; he’s far too excited to sit down and take the necessary time to care for this.

“Hey, sweetheart, this isn’t a rental, is it?”

”No, I wish it was; I seriously haye the sequins, Toru.” You huff out, feeling his hands gently grip both sides of the back of the dress.

”So you wouldn’t be heartbroken if anything were to happen to it?”

”No, I guess I woul—“ RIIIP!! “Oh fuck!” You tumble as Satoru uses all of his strength to rip down the back of the dress—the thin fabric pools around your feet before Satoru turns you back to face him. The second you do, he drops to his knees in front of you and kisses down your bare chest, all the way to your lace panties. “S-Satoru~”

“Mmm, I wanna show you what I can do with my tongue.” He states flatly before tugging your panties down. “I get to eat two sweet treats tonight. Your amazing cake and your delicious pussy.”

His tongue instantly slides over your clit, making you grip his hair for support in fear that you are going to buckle over. Your hand grips the soft strands of hair, winning the softest of groans from him. While your fingers run through his hair, only make him move his tongue faster, with the sole purpose of making you cum.

Unfortunately for you, even if you were willing to hold off, Satoru is just too good at what he does. He teases your clit, going between gentle flicks, suckling on it, and writing his name against it with the tip of his tongue. His antics and techniques leave you nearly falling over, wishing you were on the futon. There was something about towering over him, though, bucking your pussy against his willing mouth that gave you a certain sense of empowerment.

You could see why men would like a woman on their knees. It was fun holding all of the power to make Satoru do what you wanted, to keep his face in place with you humping his tongue. You could have cum from just thinking of riding his face like this. Doing it though, fuck, it was so hot.

Satoru thought so, too; his jaw opened wide as he flattened his tongue, allowing you to use his mouth as you saw fit. His hand gently reached around, grabbing the fat of your ass, encouraging you to move and grind faster against him, wanting for you to cum. His squeezing you had your head falling forward, strands of your kiss-messy hair falling as you came hard, rolling your hips in time with the waves crashing over you. Satoru hummed happily, lapping up the juices you kindly offered him.

“Fuck, oooh fuck Satoru.” Your knees were buckling as he gently peppered hisses down your inner thighs. “I don’t think I can walk after that.”

”Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” He lifted you gently, placing you down on the futon. “I have a perfect place for you to sit.” You watched in awe as your boyfriend stripped out of his clothes and slipped on a condom before standing completely naked in front of you. “Now, what do you say,” Satoru laid down, grabbing your hips and pulling you to straddle him. “We pick up where we left off this morning before your friends rudely interrupted us.”

”Mmm, I love the sound of that.” Sitting back ever so slightly, you gently grabbed his cock, easing the thick throbbing tip inside of you. “Ah~ fuck I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thick you are.” You cry out as you slowly begin to slide yourself down his shaft with a whimper.

”And I’ll never get over how tight and warm you are.” Large hands gently grip your hip, holding you as you sit down on him, his cock fully buried inside of you. “God, I can’t wait to feel how wet you are one of these days.” He hisses through his teeth as you slowly begin to rock back and forth on him. “Y-You fuck, sweetie, you feel so fucking good!”

“Yeah, so do you, Toru; I feel you getting bigger inside me.”

“And I can feel you clamping down.”

Knowing that he could feel just how good you were feeling was the only entice you needed to pick up your pace, your gentle rocks becoming a bit faster and harder as you gently began bouncing up and down on him. Your sudden increase in speed had Satoru choking on a raspy whine, his head tilting back as you placed your hands on his chest, steadying yourself. This position was one of your favorites. You were able to watch Satoru’s face contort with pleasure while his cock hit all the right places deep inside of you.

Satoru also loved this position because he got to see how relaxed you were, how he was able to grope your perfect tits, his thumbs brushing gently over your sensitive nipples. But his favorite thing about this position was being able to touch you. Not just your breasts, as great as those were. Running his large palms down your hips and over the top of your thighs, feeling your muscles twitch made happy, satisfied grunts leave his mouth. But it was when you interlace your fingers with his that got his heart pounding.

Your hips were moving faster, harder against him. Your smaller fingers held on to his for support, squeezing them gently as your tiny whines turned into desperate moans as your fucked yourself on him.

”Toru, oooh fuck~”

”Yeah, you close?” His fingers gave yours a gentle squeeze. “You gonna cum? Make me cum with you? I feel it coming back, god, I feel it; you’re going to make me cum so fucking hard.”

”Y-Yeah wanna make you cum, cum with me, Satoru, please I need it, need it so fucking bad.”

Satoru groaned, nodding his head as you slammed yourself up and down on him, his hips bucking up to meet you, fucking the tip of his cock directly into your cervix. You both are moaning so loud you know people will be calling the front desk to file a complaint, but you could care less about all of that. All that mattered right now was you and Satoru.

“Ooooh fuck me.” You cry out, releasing your boa constrictor grip on his hands, digging them into the bedding as you fall forward onto his chest. Your hips bounce up and down faster and harder, skin slapping against skin as your ass slams down. “Satoru, I’m gonna—“

”M-Me too, baby, holy fuck me too!” Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your hips, forcing you to move faster, which seems almost impossible. “Fuck, oooh fuck, fuck shit!” He’s gritting his teeth as you cry out into the side of his neck. “Oh, holy fuckin shit, baby! I’m cumming! Cumming inside you!”

With one final slam, both of your bodies go rigid as the orgasms hit you at the same time. Your pulsating walls have Satoru’s cock throbbing eagerly deep inside of you, filling the condom. Leaving both of you shaking, sweaty messes. Satoru recovers first, his hands gently caressing your sides as you lay all your weight on top of him. While you gently press open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone.

It isn’t until your muscles are protesting the position that you’re in that you finally move. Satoru helps you push off of him gently, laying you down next to his side. His fingers brush some of your hair back before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. You kiss him back burying yourself into his chest as his hands gently move up and down your back.

“So, how was our first date?” The gentle tone of Satoru’s voice has you happily humming.

“One of the best dates I ever had in my entire life.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with you on that one.” His hand continued to rub up and down your back gently. “I can’t wait to go on another and another, and god, I just want to go on countless dates with you.” He waits for you to respond, to say anything. When you don’t say a word, he peers down, finding you sleepily snuggled against him. Your hard work from the last few days has finally caught up to you. “Get some sleep.” He whispered, disposing of the condom before pulling the sheet over your body as he shut his eyes, too, following you into a deep sleep.

The next day was a blur at the inn. From packing your bags, checking out, and bidding farewell to your parents before you at Satoru took the train back to Tokyo. Where you both leaned against each other, still tired from the last week and the wedding from the night before. You only fully regain consciousness when the train pulls up to your stop. You grab your bags in silence as you slowly leave the train.

It didn’t feel real that the week was finally over. That tonight would be the first night you would be alone in a week. Part of you dreaded the night you were about to spend alone in your apartment. But you didn’t want to be clingy and ask Satoru to stay the night.

While your relationship had been entirely out of order, you didn’t want to ruin it right when it began. There would be another time for Satoru to spend the night with you. You are almost certain he would love to go home to his apartment and unwind.

So you stopped in front of the coffee shop where you met each other for the first time. Turning around, you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder, winning a slightly confused look from your new boyfriend. Swallowing hard, you hugged him tight before pulling back.

“Thank you again for everything.” You wet your bottom lip with your tongue. “I can’t thank you enough. Text me later. Maybe we could meet up for coffee or dinner sometime this week. Go on our second date.”

Satoru said nothing for a moment as you fiddled with the handle of your suitcase. “Hey.” He finally broke the silence, his hand gently grabbing yours. “Would now be too soon to take you on our second date?” Light shimmered in your eyes as Satoru put his sunglasses on. “I know this great spot for brunch.” You felt your heart swell as he rubbed at his slightly slushed neck. “I just—I don’t want to say goodbye yet.” Round sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his breathtaking eyes. “But if you’re too tired or busy, later this week would be fine, I gue—” You reach up, pressing your index finger gently over his lips, silencing him.

“Brunch sounds great.”

“Great!” Satoru beams gently, interlocking your hands as you make your way up to the surface. “You’re going to love it.” You gently squeezed his hand as you stepped into the bustling streets of Tokyo. A week ago, you never would have thought the man you had hired to be your wedding date would be taking you out on your second date, hopefully leading to many more.

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Forever Tag:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Santa

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You get an unexpected gift from your boss.

Character: Pete Brenner

Day Fourteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - "um, I don't think this gift is meant for me" 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“You got this for me?” Pete asks as he pushes his hair back. He seems surprised by the simple present. It’s not much. All you could spare from your budget.  

Working at a startup doesn’t offer much more than what pays the bills, sometimes less, and with the holiday season, funds are even sparser. You shrug and clasp your hands behind your back. You were nervous enough to give it to him. Pete can be nice, but he can also be an utter nightmare. 

“Sure, uh, it’s nothing big,” you assure him. 

He takes the small gift bag and looks inside. He rustles the tissue paper with his fingers and leans back as he tugs the stuffing free. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his forearms tensing as he pokes inside. He pulls out monogram cufflinks. They weren’t very expensive but the Etsy seller handmade them. 

“Wow, these are... nice,” he says. 

“I wasn’t sure... you might need them soon, right?” 

“Sure will,” his eyes sparkle at the golden cufflinks. “We’re gonna hit soon, sweetheart.” 

He drops them back in the bag and sets it down. You lean back on your heel. He doesn’t call you ‘sweetheart’, no, only the women he tries to sell too. He’s snagged a few to keep the startup going but he’s chased just as many away. 

“Just remembered, I got a thing,” he checks his watch. 

“Oh?” You shy away as he unrolls his sleeves and buttons them. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before closing time,” he assures you. 

And when’s that? Each day ends later and later. 

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Hold my calls,” he shrugs into his jacket and shoves his phone in his pocket. 

“Yes, sir,” you turn and retreat out of his office. 

You sidle behind your desk and sit. There’s not many calls you need to field as it is. You don’t know if he’s optimistic, deluded, or something more concerning. His ‘vision’ seems more and more like a shell. Or as your friend Evie called it, ‘a front’. 

“Good girl,” he praises with a wink as he follows you out.  

He snatches his coat off the rack by the door and stomps out without another word. You’re relieved at the solace. You like those times when you can just piddle around. Trying to look busy when there’s nothing to do is surprisingly hard work. 

You lean your head in your hand as you scroll through your phone. Your family chat is blowing up and you continue to flick away the notifications. You’ve given up trying to mediate the ongoing argument about the Secret Santa. It never works out. 

You glance up now and again at the computer. There’s a few emails, most phishing, and the phone remains dormant. You feel more and more like a placeholder; or a dupe. You blame Evie for making you so paranoid. 

The windows dim with the evening hue and you swivel in your chair impatiently. You twiddle your fingers and stare at the minutes ticking by in the corner of the monitor. You lurch back as the door opens in a bluster and Pete stomps in with a paper crinkle. 

You look over at him, taking a moment to flip back into social mode. 

“Oh, hey, everything okay?” You ask. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he turns his back to you and sets something by his feet before he strips out of his coat. He hangs it over yours and bends to pick up the item you can’t see. “You know, I couldn’t just... you went to all that trouble.” He spins and struts towards you, lifting the white paper bag with a wiggle, “Merry Christmas.” 

“Oh, uh, Mr. Brenner, you didn’t-- I didn’t expect you to--” 

“Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an idiot sometimes.” He holds the bag out over your desk. “Kinda a jackass too.” 

“Right, um, really it’s--” he drops the bag on the desk and you swallow. “Thanks, uh, that’s so... sweet.” 

You stand slowly and reluctantly take the bag. You feel awkward and a bit guilty. You didn’t give him a gift to get one. You just did it because it felt expected. 

“Go on,” he stays where his is, one hip jutted out as he grips it, “I think you’ll like it.” 

You sniff and push the top of the bag open with your fingers. There’s a box inside. You reach through and lift out the white cardboard adorned with a pink ribbon. You set it down and carefully untie the bow, intensely aware of his gaze. 

You pull the lid off and reveal the neatly folded tissue paper. You pause and glance up at Pete. He smirks as he watches you. Something about his expression makes you nervous. 

You push apart the tissue and reveal the bright red sheer fabric trimmed in white fur. Your lashes flutter and you squeak. You giggle and look up at Pete as you try to line up lid with the box and cover the lingerie. 

“Uh, sir, I don't think this gift is meant for me. It must be for your wife--” 

“It’s for you,” he insists. “Wife’s gone. Ex, soon enough.” 

“Oh, I didn’t-- I’m sorry, sir. That’s awful.” 

“Yeah, pretty down about it,” his lip thin and he reaches to brush the stubble around his chin. “So why don’t you help cheer me up.” 

He winks again and it crawls over you like a shiver. He can’t be serious. You laugh again but his intent gaze doesn’t falter. 

“Sir, I can’t-- that’s...” you can barely think or breathe. He can’t be serious. 

“Come on, let’s have some holiday fun,” he purrs and leans forward to put his hands on your desk. 

“Uh, oh, that’s... sorry, sir, but I’m not... I’m sorry to hear about your wife but I can’t... do that.” 

“You can’t?” He tilts his head and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “You know, I can’t return that.” 

“Um, I’m sorry,” you try to slide the box across the desk and he catches it, his large hands covering yours. 

“Just put it on for me, please,” he squeezes, “I just wanna look. I’ve been so lonely.” 

“No, sir, that’s not--” your heart pounds behind your ears. You can’t believe this is happening. “That’s not appropriate. I... I gotta get going--” 

He doesn’t let you go. Even as you try to tug away. His grip is unbreakable. You whimper and stare up at him helplessly. 

“I know you got no one to go home to, sweetheart,” his voice deepens, “but I’ll give you a choice, huh? You can go put that on or you can get naked. Up to you.” 

“Sir,” you try to yank free again. “Stop--” 

He hooks his hands around your wrists and wrenches you down. Your stomach crushes the box beneath it as he releases one of your arms and grabs the back of your neck. He holds you, bent over the desk, as your toes slide on the floor. 

He steps closer as he balls your hair in his hand and forces your head up. He pushes your face into his pants, wiggling his hips as he rubs his rigid bulge against you. You whimper and grab at his grasp helplessly. 

“I got another gift for you right here,” he growls. “So be a good girl and I’ll let you unwrap it.” He twitches and groans as the roots of your hair burn. “What’s it going to be, hm? You gonna sit on Santa’s lap or is he gonna have to bend you over his knee?” 

You sniffle and press against his stomach, “please sir, I’ll be—Ow! I'll do it,” you murmur, “please, you’re hurting me.” 

“That’s it, you better be nice, baby,” he lets you go and stretches his hand across the front of his pants. “You don’t wanna get on my naughty list.” 

You recoil and slide back onto your feet. You rub your head as your scalp ripples hotly. He bites his lips as he eyes you up and down. 

“Go on, get yourself all wrapped up for Santa,” he grits. 

You flinch and stare at him, begging with your eyes. Your eyes flit to the door and back to him. You have no choice. You shakily take the box and turn away. 

He shifts as you come around the desk and as you pass him, he taps your ass. You trip but keep going. You scurry into the tiny bathroom on the other side of the office and hide behind the door. 

You toss the box onto the small counter and stare at your frightened reflection. You can’t believe this. Why?  

You sway on your legs and wring your hand. What do you do? 

“Sweetheart, don’t keep Santa waiting,” he taunts from outside. You can hear the friction of his hand on the door. 

You squeak and grip your head as your panic swells. No, no, no. You cringe and brace yourself. You’re going to do this. Because you’re weak. Because you’re scared. 

You undress, piece by piece. You open the box again and clumsily unfold the body suit. You shimmy into the sheer fabric and hook the straps over your shoulders. You step back to see yourself in the mirror. You can’t! 

You spin away with the vision of your reflection seared into your head. The fabric is so sheer, you can see your nipples, and even the slit of your cunt. You hug yourself as your eyes wet with horrified tears. 

“Come out and play, baby girl,” Pete wiggles the handle from the other side. 

“Please,” you plead through the door. “I can’t--” 

The handle jerks up then down, “get the fuck out here!”  

His voice cuts through and makes you wince. Your lip trembles as you reach to flip the lock up. Your body moves from fear. He pushes the door open and you step back. 

“Mm, baby, come out here,” he reaches for you and tugs your wrist away from your chest. He takes both your hands and unbends your arms as he draws you out into the flourescent lights. “Damn, who knew you were hiding all that? Keeping that all to yourself.” 

“Please, I... I’m scared.” 

“I know, baby, that’s why I’m so hard,” he snickers and yanks on so you fall against him. He snakes his arm around you and cups your ass in his hand. “Why didn’t you give me this for Christmas, huh?” 

“Sir...” 

“Mmm,” he leans in and inhales your scent as his nose tickles your temples. “Don’t worry, Santa’s gonna give you everything,” he grinds his pelvis into you, “a nice fucking yule log to fill you up.” 

[glossdebut]

take a bite | MYG ★ 7

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: copious amounts of FEELINGS both good and bad, theatre references LOL, world-class meddler kim seokjin, yoongi being hopelessly whipped, angst, smut

✧ WORDCOUNT: 10.3k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: WOW. i don't even know what to say... with this chapter, take a bite is officially complete. THANK YOU so much to those of you who have been reading from the very beginning and sending me such kind words. this story means so much to me and i can't believe it's over. thank you again to @love4myg for beta reading this chapter and the last!! everybody go give tanni some love. i love you all! i tried to give this story the ending it deserves so i hope you enjoy the last chapter <3

CH. 7: Wanna Do It All Over Again

You’re a planner, a scheduler. You keep a minimum of six to-do lists at a time. You do your best work when your week is clearly laid out for you within the confines of the neat little boxes on your calendar. So you allot yourself one day to grieve what could’ve been with Min Yoongi, and that’s it.

Your Sunday is spent wallowing, because Rina doesn’t give you any choice in the matter and you don’t have it in you to put up a fight. She seems a little bit like she’s grasping at straws on how to help you, though.

You don’t blame her. Rina had dropped everything to be by your side when your ex ended things, but the remedy for that was pretty straightforward.

There was the initial crying on your part—the intense and nauseating kind that felt like it would never stop, until Rina held you and it inevitably did. After the tears came the anger, the picking apart of every little argument you’d had with him, every quirk of his that had soured from endearing to annoying, and Rina had no problem talking shit. Anger turned into drinking, and drinking led to falling asleep in a heap together on your couch.

It didn’t magically fix the hollowness inside of you overnight, but it helped. Rina had a patented method to make a broken heart a little more bearable.

A patented method that, unfortunately, doesn’t really apply here. Your heart isn’t broken over a failed situationship. You’ve been crying, sure, but it’s more of a passive sniffle than anything else. You can’t bring yourself to feel angry at Yoongi either. Confused, annoyed, disappointed, stupid—all of those you can feel just fine. But the anger just won’t come.

Desperate, Rina defaults to cliches. Cheesy movies, ice cream, face masks—the stuff straight out of a ‘How To Get Over Your Ex In Ten Easy Steps’ article in a teen magazine. She paints your nails while you stare blankly at Julia Stiles’ face on your TV. You force yourself to believe it’s helping. You have work to do, a deadline to meet. So if you need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with Rina and cry it out to cleanse your brain of Yoongi, so be it.

You refuse to use a sick day in general, let alone because of a man, but you do grant yourself permission to work from home on Monday. Not because you’re still grieving—that’s what Sunday was for—but because you look like you’ve been run over, dumped into the river and then fished out.

With greasy hair and puffy eyes, you set your phone to do not disturb and hunker down in your bed to write your profile on Yijeong. Despite the burn of your laptop on your thighs, you type and self-edit for hours, pausing only to listen to your recording of Yijeong’s interview and transcribe direct quotes. 

You’re able to churn out a subpar first draft before you burn out around four in the afternoon. Your brain is all over the place, and as a result, the profile is nowhere near where it needs to be. But you don’t have it in you to stare at your laptop screen for any longer. 

Rina slipped out this morning and made herself scarce so you could work, so you’re alone. You decide to shower first and foremost, something you’ve been putting off for far too long, and then maybe order dinner if you want to shell out extra money towards a delivery fee. 

Stretching your legs as you stand, you use some of your few remaining dregs of energy to drag yourself out of bed and into your bathroom, finally shedding yourself of the sweatpants and shirt you’ve been wearing since Sunday morning.

Your mistake is looking in the mirror. The few marks Yoongi made on your body are only just barely beginning to fade, still dark on your skin. You trace a fingertip over the bruise he’d sucked into your breast just days before, so recently that you can still conjure a phantom of the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin. He’d wanted you so fervently then that you’d been sure at that stupid party that he already felt what you did. That he’d just been waiting for you to catch on. 

You don’t know what you did wrong, what kind of misstep you could’ve made to make Yoongi withdraw so suddenly like he did, but you wish you could take it back.

When you finally emerge from your shower, you’re no more energized than you were when you entered. At the very least, though, you’re clean, and you decide to reward your efforts with tangsuyuk.

When you turn your phone off of do not disturb, you can’t help but hope, just for a moment, that Yoongi has texted you today.

Instead, you find that Seokjin has.

[4:42] Seokjin: If you’re not too busy, can we meet?

The anger that had been missing in action floods your senses all at once. 

Seokjin wants to meet you. Seokjin, who you’ve met once. Meanwhile Yoongi, who allegedly still wants to be your friend, can’t send you a cursory text or, god forbid, walk down the hallway to explain any of this to you.

You are not this girl. You have gone through strenuous effort to build very sturdy, very high walls to ensure that you don’t become this girl—the one who loses sight of what’s important to her for a man who will just fuck her over anyway, leave her high and dry. Disappear with no explanation. Fuck that.

If Yoongi isn’t man enough to let you down easily himself, if he’s going to have Seokjin do it for him, maybe you’re better off without any bullshit excuse. From either of them.

You swipe out of your messages, ordering your hard-earned tangsuyuk first. Once the payment has gone through, you open Seokjin’s message again, fingers shaking as you type out your stilted reply and press send.

[5:03] You: i am too busy. and not interested.

Bitterly, you set your phone back to do not disturb. The delivery driver will knock when your food is here, and you couldn’t care less about whatever Seokjin’s reply could be.

★ ★ ★

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, but now that you’re committed to feeling pissed off, you actually feel a lot better. Maybe it’s the man-hater in you.

You hyperfocus on finishing the profile, the words flowing much easier now that you’re done feeling sorry for yourself. Even when you have to write about Suga and his impact on Yijeong’s career, you aren’t the slightest bit thrown off. By the time you’re done, you’re confident that it’s possibly the best thing you’ve written in a long time, and when you hand it off to Rina for feedback she concurs.

On Wednesday morning, you drop the final draft off on Kevin’s desk for approval, and then spend the next few hours helping out where you’re needed. Everyone in the office is in a frenzy to get the layout of Look Here’s next issue together. You spend your day copy editing and calling sources with last minute follow-up questions. 

When all of the articles are squared away, you lurk by the design team in case they need any extra hands. In return, you get to watch the paginator type your headline onto the front cover, which is… a pretty cool moment for you.

You usually hate the week leading up to print day, but knowing that Yijeong’s profile is going to be on the cover, you revel in the chaos of it.

You’re slightly anxious when Kevin calls you into his office right before quitting time, but you try not to let it get to you too much. You know the profile is good.

“Y/N,” Kevin says, tearing his attention away from his computer as you step into his office. It’s a good sign, you think, that he’s looking you in the eyes this time. “Sit down.”

You sit, immediately tapping your foot to try and calm your nerves. “You wanted to see me?”

“I read your piece,” he says, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his desk. But he doesn’t say anything else.

Um… Okay.

“And?” you ask meekly. He looks at you seriously, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“It was incredible,” he says. Fuck, thank god. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Really?” you ask, your whole body relaxing all at once.

“Really,” he insists. “It was well-written, informative, personal. I don’t know how you got him to open up like that, but I hope you can keep doing it.”

You blink at him. “Keep doing it?”

“You can expect more assignments like that starting next week,” Kevin says, smiling at you warmly. Holy fuck. “We’re all very impressed with you. We want to give you bigger responsibilities moving forward.”

“Thank you,” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

“I hope not,” he hums, amused, before turning back to his computer. “Go home and get some rest. Print day tomorrow.”

“I will,” you say, standing up in a flash. You want to call—Rina, you want to call Rina and tell her the good news. “See you tomorrow!”

“Have a good night!” Kevin calls as you leave his office in a hurry.

As you walk back to your desk to grab your bag, it feels more like you’re walking on a cloud. Holy fuck. You were right. This piece was your breakthrough piece, and you proved yourself just like you knew you could. Nothing can bring you down right now.

★ ★ ★

As it turns out, Kim Seokjin is not the kind of guy who takes kindly to being ignored. Based on what you know about him, you probably should’ve been able to figure that out on your own. But you certainly didn’t expect him to ambush you outside of your apartment.

You spotted Seokjin sitting against your door as you made it home from work, although he scrambled to his feet when he noticed you approaching. You wondered how long he’d been sitting there waiting for you to get him. He looked like he was well-prepared to convince you to let him in, a pre-planned speech at the ready, but you didn’t give him the chance, wordlessly letting him inside.

Maybe you were still riding the high of being praised by your boss, but you highly doubted anything Seokjin could say to you would kill your good mood. If he wanted to defend Yoongi’s honor, he was welcome to try. 

Your initial impression of Seokjin was that he was boisterous, silly, and a little bit crude. As you sit across from him, all of that still seems to be true, although he seems intent on doing his very best impression of a longsuffering psychiatrist right now.

He sits primly in the armchair opposite the couch you’ve nestled yourself into, his hands steepled together in his lap as he pulls a serious face. It looks strange on him.

“I’d like to preface by saying that you and Yoongi are both being stupid.”

You blink at him, taken aback, until your expression settles into something unimpressed.

“Nice start,” you say flatly.

“You’re perfect for each other and why both of you are willing to throw it away so quickly is beyond me. It’s giving me a headache,” he continues, rubbing at his temples as if to prove his point. “I’m going to play mediator just this once, and then it’s up to you two to figure it out for yourselves.”

“Does Yoongi know you’re here?”

That makes Seokjin snort. “Are you kidding? He’d try to kill me,” he says, crossing his arms. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here. But he told me what happened, and I think there are some things you deserve to know.”

Yoongi told Seokjin what happened. You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips. That’s nice for him. You don’t even know what happened. Yoongi certainly didn’t seem to feel obligated to clue you into his reasoning for ending things.

“Why doesn’t he tell me those things himself, then?” you ask bitterly.

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Keep up.”

“Okay,” you sigh, equally impatient. You’ve changed your mind. You want to get this asshole out of your apartment as soon as possible. “We’re both stupid. What is it that I deserve to know?”

“Yoongi-yah may be stupid, but he isn’t a bad person.” 

You sit up straight at that. Is he joking? “What are you, his fucking character witness?”

“I’ve been his best friend for over a decade,” Seokjin snaps, clearly tired of your attitude. As if you aren’t justified in having one. “So if I am his character witness, I’m a pretty fucking good one.”

You open your mouth to say something, something venomous at the tip of your tongue, but Seokjin beats you to it, holding his hand up to silence you. “Can you just be quiet for five minutes and let me say my piece? Please?”

Huffing petulantly, you shrug and lean back into the couch, gesturing for him to continue.

Seokjin visibly regroups. You watch as he sits up a little straighter, shakes off the irritation, takes a deep breath.

“For as long as I’ve known him, all Yoongi has ever wanted was to make something of himself,” Seokjin starts, calmer now. “He loved making music, and he didn’t care about anything else. Least of all himself.”

“I got to know him when we were freshmen in college,” he continues. “I’d heard about him from classmates, seen him around, but you know Yoongi. He’s pretty tight-lipped about things, always has been. It’s one of his many faults.”

You scoff, your bitterness cutting through the air. No kidding. That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? Yoongi’s little omissions, always giving half-truths. The real reason why he ended things with you is just another one to add to the list.

“Anyway,” Seokjin says, his eyes narrowing at you for a moment as he continues. “I was majoring in theatre, and I’d been cast in ‘Into the Woods.’ Yoongi was volunteered by his piano professor to help with the accompaniment, and during our first rehearsal I just remember thinking to myself, ‘who is this scrawny kid who can play Stephen Sondheim with his eyes closed?’”

You wish he’d get to the point already. You’re a sucker for a good backstory, you are. It’s what makes you such a good feature writer. But you’d really like to maintain your resolve in being pissed at Yoongi, if you can help it.

“I was so impressed with him, you know? He does that. He makes everything look so easy. I made it a point to get to know him, and he opened up to me surprisingly fast. I think he needed a friend,” Seokjin continues. “He told me that he was mostly there on scholarships, but he still had to work two jobs to live and pay off the tuition that he did owe. He told me that he utilized the fuck out of the production equipment on campus. He told me that all he wanted to do was make music, and for people to hear it and think it’s worth something.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment, shifting in his chair.

“I think he would’ve done anything to make that happen,” he says, tension in his voice. “I already didn’t like some of the shit he did do, the situations he put himself in, but I think if he knew it could’ve made his dream a reality, he would’ve done much worse.”

Seokjin doesn’t offer up any more information on what exactly Yoongi did, but he doesn’t have to. You gather by the grimace on his face that it must’ve been pretty bad.

“Obviously he made it anyway. You know who he is now,” he says, pausing for a moment. He looks at you seriously. “That comes with its own set of issues, though.”

“Like what?” you ask, disbelieving. 

You feel bad for Yoongi, you do. At least for what he must’ve went through in the past. You know what it’s like to struggle, to feel like you can’t possibly reach your goals with the resources available to you. You’re experiencing that currently. 

But Yoongi is extremely successful now. Artists trip over themselves to get a song from him because they know it’ll chart, that people will go crazy for it. His track record is that good. How hard can it be, living like that? Having people think so highly of you?

“Like people taking advantage of him at every turn,” he says, his words blunt. “People pretending to care about him to get close to him. Even going so far as dating him. Long-term. Or at least as long as it takes to produce an album.”

Oh.

“…Suran?” you guess, thinking back to the party Saturday night. The way Suran kept touching Yoongi, like there had been something there. Yoongi didn’t seem all that uncomfortable, but he’s got a killer poker face. Could Suran be that kind of person?

“What?” Seokjin asks, bewildered. “No, Suran was just a casual thing. He told you about Suran?”

“I met her. Saturday,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “They seemed close.”

“That’s been done for years. Yoongi cares about Suran, but it isn’t like that anymore,” he insists, shaking his head. “It was someone else. It’s not my place to say who, but it’s the only time I’ve ever seen Yoongi in love like that. Or at all, honestly. He brought her around all of us, which is a big deal for him. Wrote songs for her. Like, not just for her album, but for her. About her.”

“What happened?” you ask despite yourself. You can feel your resolve crumbling, curiosity getting the best of you. Fuck.

“They were out celebrating finishing the album,” he says. “She wanted to go for a walk after dinner. Kissed him in the middle of the street. The next morning, he woke up to pictures of it all over the internet. She’d texted him, too, breaking it off. It didn’t take much brain power to figure out she orchestrated the whole thing.”

You feel a pang in your chest. As hurt as you are, you also know that Yoongi couldn’t have possibly deserved that. Nobody does.

“He threw himself into his work after that—almost never left the studio. Barely ate or showered,” Seokjin says. “I had to put a stop to it. He was going to overwork himself to death, if I didn’t. I had to help him dig himself out of that hole.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, doing your best to ignore how much that sounds like you. How Yoongi was the one beginning to dig you out.

“That sucks,” you say finally. “But I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than that,” Seokjin huffs. Big talk from the man who’s been calling you stupid this whole time. “Yoongi hasn’t dated anyone since then. Hasn’t even shown interest. Until you.”

“That’s not what it was, between us,” you insist. “I thought, maybe…” Maybe it could’ve been, you think. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it. “But he ended it.”

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says. “Because he got hurt, and it made him stupid, and when you asked him if he could get you an interview with Yijeong, he was scared that was your endgame.”

What?

Yoongi thinks you were using him? What the fuck????

“I wouldn’t—“ you start, but Seokjin cuts you off. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, his gaze piercing through you. “You think I couldn’t tell you were going to fall in love with him the moment I met you? The moment I saw you two together?”

Your throat tightens and you have to tear your eyes away from Seokjin. Love is a big word. One you’re not quite ready to contend with, not now.

“…I like Yoongi,” you manage. You can admit that now, even if Yoongi himself never got the chance to hear it. “But just because he got hurt once upon a time, it doesn’t automatically make the way he ended things with me okay.”

“Just talk to him,” Seokjin pleads.

“Look, I listened to what you have to say,” you say, standing up from the couch. “And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t change some things. But I don’t know if I want to talk to him, okay? Maybe it’s better that it’s ended before we got anywhere serious, if we’re both so fucked up over the past.”

“Y/N—“

“Seokjin, I have work in the morning. I appreciate you coming over to tell me all of this, but I’d really like it if you left now.”

You don’t give him much of a choice in the matter. He’s overstayed his welcome. You make it abundantly clear that if Seokjin doesn’t use his own two legs to walk himself out of your home, you fully intend to grab him by the scruff of his neck and drag him out yourself. 

Defeated, Seokjin stands up from his chair and makes his way to your front door. You follow close behind, shutting and locking it behind him before he can get another word in.

When you walk back to the couch, you catch Rina poking her head out into the living room. 

Shit. You hadn’t even known she was home.

Wordlessly, you sink back into the couch, emotionally exhausted. Rina sits with you, repositioning you so your head is in her lap, running her fingers through your hair soothingly. 

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, but you can practically hear the gears turning in Rina’s head. She’s been biting her tongue since Saturday night, being supportive when you needed it, but not pushing. But she was just in your bedroom that whole time, and Seokjin isn’t exactly quiet. You can only imagine what she heard. You brace yourself.

Finally, she breaks the silence.

“He can play Sondheim with his eyes closed?” she asks.

All of the tension seeps out of you at once. You should’ve known better. Of course Rina won’t push you in either direction. She’s your best friend, your Seokjin. Her loyalties will always be with you, and she knows that you need to process everything on your own. 

But she’s also a theatre kid.

“Apparently,” you huff, closing your eyes.

“…That’s really hot.”

You laugh, reaching up to swat at her shoulder. “Not helpful.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice gentle.

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What are you going to do? Seokjin made a strong case for Yoongi, but you’re still mad about how everything played out. You trusted Yoongi this whole time to be honest with you, but you keep being made aware, over and over, of how much he keeps to himself. You aren’t sure if you want to fight to be let in, if it’s worth it. You want it to be.

“I don’t know,” you say finally.

Rina hums, continuing to stroke your hair.

“...Do you wanna watch ‘Into the Woods’?” she asks.

You snort softly, sitting up to grab the remote.

“Only if it’s the one with Bernadette Peters.”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi got his very first long-term gig as a producer, Namjoon brought him a potted plant as a studio-warming gift. 

Yoongi thought it was stupid at first, because his studio didn’t have any windows—windows would compromise the integrity of the soundproofing—so the plant would have zero chance of survival. And why was Kim Namjoon buying him a plant anyway? New headphones would’ve been better, Yoongi told him. 

But Namjoon had laughed and insisted that the plant—a dracaena, apparently—was extremely resilient. That it could still thrive in the darkness.

“That’s why I got it for you, hyung,” Namjoon had told Yoongi. “It reminded me of you.”

Needless to say, Yoongi became obsessed with the thing.

It was just a small little cutting, just barely starting to grow on its own, so Yoongi researched how to properly care for it and took all of the necessary steps to ensure it would succeed, even in his dimly lit studio. 

He watered it, pruned it, measured its growth. He sent Namjoon pictures of it on a weekly basis. He named it—Eodumie, thank you very much. 

It took a while, but eventually, Eodumie started to die. Yoongi didn’t know why, so he started doing research on dracaena. He’d put so much effort into helping it grow, so it only seemed sensible to figure out why things had taken a turn for the worse. Run into a problem, find a solution.

Yoongi very quickly found out that Namjoon was a little bit dumb, and that the only ‘plants’ that grow in complete darkness are mushrooms. But he still felt like he’d failed. 

When Yoongi is really upset and can’t stop turning a problem over in his head, he resorts to extremely heavy-handed metaphors to help himself make sense of things. 

So all of that is to say, Yoongi has a tendency to kill things before they have a chance to grow.

He thought, because you didn’t want a relationship, that you were safe from it. And you were, because he really was okay with being your friend. He didn’t expect any more from you.

But then you asked him if he wanted to have sex with you, and… Well, everything changed then, didn’t it? Not because he couldn’t keep things casual anymore—if that’s what you wanted, he would do it. He would try. You make it so hard for him to say no to you.

No, everything changed because Yoongi is an overthinker by nature. He’s attuned to the rhythm of the world around him, notices patterns where others don’t. Especially when he’s seen them before.

He gave you his mouth, and then you wanted more. He gave you more, and then you wanted a favor. He gave you your favor, and then Suran gave you his identity. You had your favor, and his identity, and then you were all over him, and Yoongi knows what happens next. He’s heard that song before.

Shit, Yoongi’s made that song before, unwittingly. And he’s not interested in writing another duet just for it to sour like the last one.

Metaphors, again.

The point is, he cut it off before he was in too deep. Sex complicates things. For him. It blurs the lines, and he’d much rather do you professional favors when he’s not also seeing you naked. It’s the only way he can keep being your friend, and that’s what you want.

Seokjin thinks he’s being an idiot. Seokjin can suck his cock. Yoongi was doing what he thought was right.

He hadn’t expected to hear from you. Over the past week he’d thought about reaching out and explaining himself every day. But he wanted to give you space, maybe. Or maybe he still felt a little sore about the whole thing. But then, Friday night, you text him asking him to come over and…  

Now he’s in your apartment.

In all of the weeks he’s known you, Yoongi has never actually been inside your apartment before, he realizes. Is that weird? The closest he’d been was when he picked you up for the party on Saturday. When he’d lingered in your doorway, looking at you in your pretty dress. Fuck, you looked good. He didn’t want to go to that dumb party in the first place, but you in that dress… He wanted to drag you down the hall, get you in his bed. Take it off of you with his teeth. 

It’s devastating that now that Yoongi is finally here, you seem so stiff in his presence. Quiet. Unlike yourself. You’re sitting as far as humanly possible from him on your couch, and Yoongi feels like an asshole. Even when you were literally a stranger, you didn’t feel like this much of a stranger to him. It was instant, the way you’d hit it off. Did Yoongi really make things this way?

“I read your article,” he says, cutting through the silence. Neither of you have spoken since he came in, and the tension is making him antsy. Desperate to break the ice.

What he doesn’t tell you is that he read your article the second it came out this morning, that he’s had alerts on his phone for everything published under your name since the day after he met you. That he drops everything to read it all, no matter what he’s doing.

It was beautiful. It was about one of his best friends, so of course he thought so, but you have such a way with words. It’s another thing you have in common, he thinks. You both have difficulty saying what you feel out loud, but when it comes to work, when you’re writing, it just pours out of you.

“You read my article,” you repeat softly, huffing. Yoongi can’t read the expression on your face, and that bothers him to no end.

“Of course I did,” he replies, brow furrowing in confusion. “I always do. Especially this one.”

“We need to talk,” you say. He watches as you turn your body on the couch, pulling your legs to your chest to face him.

“Okay.”

“I need to talk,” you suddenly correct, voice tight. You take a breath, and then, “Seokjin came over the other night.”

Seokjin… Oh.

Oh, Yoongi’s going to kill him. Brutally. He told Seokjin to keep his nose out of his fucking business and instead of listening and staying out of it, he came over to your apartment? Is he insane? Yoongi’s always thought so, in a mostly loving way, but this is a whole new level of intrusion that he didn’t think Seokjin was capable of, and now he has to die.

“He came here? He had no right—”

“It’s fine,” you say, waving a hand. Yoongi’s unconvinced, but he forces himself to settle, to take a breath. You said you needed to talk, and he’s going to let you. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to text you, so… It’s probably good that he did.”

Yoongi doesn’t see how that could possibly be the case, but he stays quiet. Waits for you to find the right words. 

“This whole past week, I’ve been so… confused,” you start, your eyes fixed on the couch cushion between the two of you. “Confused, and mad at you.”

“I still am, I think,” you continue, lifting your head to look at him. “Mad at you. But I don’t want to be, because I miss you. You said that you still wanted to be friends, but you haven’t exactly put in much of an effort to do that.”

“I wanted to give you space,” Yoongi says. His excuse sounds hollow, even to his own ears.

You shake your head. “You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that, I just—”

“Let me talk,” you snap, frustrated, and Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut so fast he can hear the click of it. “You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I get it. But if me asking you for help bothered you so much, you could’ve just told me no instead of assuming that I was using you as some kind of stepping stone and then just breaking things off without explaining.”

There’s nothing Yoongi can say to that. He knows you’re right. He should’ve just said no the second he felt uncomfortable, but it was just so important to you he couldn’t bring himself to not help you.

“I get why your brain immediately went there, but I’m not going to apologize or act guilty or anything like that. Because I wasn’t using you,” you say firmly, crossing your arms. “Shit, Yoongi, all the times you’ve offered to help me I’ve tried to stop you. My car? But then the one time I come to you first, you assume the worst and shut me out. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Yoongi says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

He feels like the world’s biggest piece of shit. For someone usually so observant, he suddenly feels like he’s been blind this whole time. You’ve done nothing but be upfront with him about what you wanted, and still he assumed you were pulling one over on him. He’s spent the past week feeling justified, feeling like he’d done the right thing, but your words have made his entire mindset shift in an instant.

“The night of the party, I…” you trail off. And then you laugh, which makes Yoongi look back up at you. “Yijeong told me I was special. He said that you hadn’t been to an industry event in years, even when he asked you to. I didn’t know that.”

“It was important to you,” he mumbles, sheepish. He didn’t know Yijeong had said anything about him to you. Looking back now, he realizes how stupid that is. His friends are all world-class meddlers. Clearly they need to be, if Yoongi’s this fucking dense.

“See? That right there,” you say, frustrated. “I thought, maybe… I thought you had feelings for me. Non-platonic, romantic feelings. And for the first time since my ex… Did I ever tell you what happened with him?” you ask.

Yoongi had read between the lines. He knew that your ex had a problem with how demanding your job was, and that it’d ended badly, but beyond that he doesn’t know any details.

He shakes his head.

“We were together for almost four years. Almost all through college,” you start. “He met my parents. I met his. After we graduated, we moved in together. In this apartment, actually.”

Yoongi watches you glance around your living room. He knows that look. Years later, he still remembers what his apartment, his studio looked like when they were occupied by someone else. He remembers every detail. 

“I thought we were going to get married eventually. We’d talked about it.” You pull your knees tighter to your chest, looking down. “I got my first job at some shitty newspaper. I worked insane hours and it barely paid anything, but it was a start. I was over the moon about it.”

He holds his breath, waiting for what he knows comes next. 

“He broke up with me after two months,” you say, your voice wavering. “He said it was because he barely saw me, that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me if my job was going to be more important than us. It took him less than a week to move out. Four years down the drain.”

Fuck. It’s awful, watching you relive your pain and not being able to do anything but listen. Because Yoongi hurt you, too. He’s the reason you’re digging this up, that you’re feeling it all over again.

Yoongi looks down, picks at his left thumbnail as he listens. He can’t bring himself to look at you.

Your ex is an idiot, he thinks bitterly. How could someone spend four years watching the way you glow when you talk about writing and throw that away?

“I blamed myself. Why wouldn’t I? He told me it was my fault,” you say. “I haven’t been interested in a relationship since. Why try if I clearly don’t have time for it? The thought of you having feelings for me…”

He hears you suck in a breath, braces himself. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding how he felt about you, even after the sex. But he’d made you uncomfortable anyway. Of course.

“It made me want to try,” you say softly.

Yoongi’s head snaps up, his eyes meeting yours. It’s almost insane, the way his heart starts racing in his chest at just the slightest glimmer of hope. You realized how he felt—feels—about you, and you wanted to try? He wants to interrupt you, to ask what that means, but he holds his tongue. 

“I think maybe I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you continue, looking down at your knees again. “And I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But when Yijeong told me all of that… I mean, fuck, Yoongi. We weren’t even speaking and you read my article. You helped me even though you thought I was just using you to get ahead. When I hadn’t seen you for weeks, instead of thinking I was a bad friend, you offered up your studio so we could work in complete silence together.”

He would do anything. He would do anything to see you glow. That first night in that horrible Western bar you’d both been dragged to, the way you puffed up with pride when you told him where you work—that’s all he ever wants to see.

“I was going to tell you,” you say. “After the party, I was going to tell you. But then you ended things, and I… I didn’t know why.”

Yoongi needs to salvage this. He needs to know if there’s anything left, if you could ever forgive him for being such a stupid, prideful ass. He hopes.

“Y/N…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You do this thing where you only give me half-truths about shit, and it drives me crazy,” you say, pointing a finger at him in frustration. “All of the secrecy about your job, who you are, how close you are to Yijeong, why you ended things with us. It seriously makes me want to kill you sometimes.”

You’re right. He prides himself on being an honest person, but he kept things from you on purpose. He didn’t want to let you in fully, to let you see him. He didn’t want to get hurt. But none of that was worth hurting you. He’s going to fix this. He’s going to try. 

“Then let me clear some things up,” Yoongi says, sitting up straighter. 

He scoots closer, closing some of the space between you on the couch.

Yoongi has never been good at talking about his feelings, not out loud. In songs that will ultimately be sang by other people, sure, but doing it like this makes him squeamish. He’ll get over it, though. You need to hear this. 

“I’m an idiot,” he says seriously, looking into your eyes. “I’m an idiot for thinking you would do that to me. I was scared and stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you, and that I kept things from you, and that I ended things so suddenly. My past isn’t an excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I should’ve been more open with you, so I’m going to try. Okay?”

You nod once, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“You were right,” he says, reaching to take one of your hands in his. He intertwines your fingers, staring down at them as he speaks. “About me having feelings for you.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t know what that means, can’t bring himself to look at you until he’s done verbalizing all of this, but he hopes it’s a good thing.

“I was happy to be your friend,” he continues. “I didn’t expect anything more from you. But yeah, Y/N, I’d be crazy not to have feelings for you. You’re incredible, you know? You’re so smart, so driven, so insanely sexy. I was a goner the moment you introduced yourself to me with a handshake.”

You pull your hand from his, and for a moment he panics, until he looks up to see you using it to cover a tiny laugh. Your eyes are glassy, and although Yoongi hates the idea of making you cry, he feels relieved to know that it’s likely not out of sadness.

“I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you,” he reiterates, pulling your hand back into his and squeezing it. “I never meant to, but I did, and that’s not okay. But if I didn’t completely wreck my chances and you still want to try, I… I promise I’ll do better. I won’t keep things from you, I won’t act without considering your feelings, I’ll do better with all of it.”

You take another shaky breath, biting down on your bottom lip as you process his words. Yoongi feels like he’s going to have a heart attack, tense and pulled taut, but he waits patiently. 

The ball is in your court now, Yoongi thinks. This is your decision, as it should be. If you want him to walk away, he will. If you want to stay friends, Yoongi thinks it might kill him now that everything’s out in the open, but he’ll do it for you. But he hopes—

“No more half-truths?” you ask softly, and holy shit.

“I promise,” Yoongi insists. He holds his breath.

“Then I still want to try.”

Relief washes over him instantly, all of the tension leaving his shoulders at once. He didn’t fuck everything up beyond repair. You still want him. Holy shit, you still want him!

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, squeezing your hand again. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you say, and Yoongi doesn’t waste a goddamn second. Instantly, he’s moving your knees so he can fit himself between them, cradling your jaw to capture your lips with his. 

God, you taste so good. He’s the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.

Yoongi is just happy to kiss you again, to know that you’re his now. But then you make a sweet little sound into his mouth, slide your hands under his shirt, and he pulls away to look at you.

“Baby,” he says, catching his breath. Shit, it feels so good to call you that again. “We don’t have to do anything right now.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, pushing his shirt up impatiently. Cute. “After you left me hanging last time? In a suit, no less.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh, grabbing hold of your wrists to stop your hands in their tracks. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to rush into anything just because—”

But then you shut him up with a kiss, which he melts into easily before you’re pulling back again. You look so serious. Yoongi likes you so fucking much.

“I want my boyfriend to fuck me,” you say, wriggling your hands out of his grip to keep feeling him up, and Yoongi is powerless to resist because fuck, boyfriend. “Is that too much to ask?”

He shakes his head dumbly, mouth agape. He’s your boyfriend. You said it.

You laugh, pinching his nipple, and Yoongi hisses as he’s yanked out of his reverie.

“Come on,” you tease, standing from the couch and pulling him with you. “Bedroom.”

Yoongi follows you to your bedroom eagerly, letting you drag him by the arm. You take a moment to shoo Pepper off of your bed and out of the room, shutting the door to keep her out, but Yoongi’s patience only lasts so long. As soon as the door is closed, Yoongi pulls you to your bed, laying you down on your back and kissing you breathless. 

He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you as his hands slide over your ass to squeeze it. You moan in response, your hips kicking up against his, and he lifts his head to look down at you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs lowly, his lips still brushing against yours. Yoongi thinks he’d give you anything you ask for, especially when you look so sweet and needy beneath him like this.

“Just want you,” you pant, chasing his lips for another kiss. He obliges easily, dipping down to lick into your mouth again.

A part of Yoongi wants to drag this out—really drag it out this time—and tease you until you’re desperate and whining, begging. A part of him wants to see how far he can push you, to make you fall apart so he can put you back together again over and over. But Yoongi’s also not feeling very patient, not when you’re like this. He feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you right now.

You moan as Yoongi rips your shorts down your legs, arch your back as he slides his hand into your panties to feel you.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groans, sinking his middle and ring fingers into your pussy with no resistance. “Always so soaked for me.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper. God, he’s so addicted to that—the way you say his name when he touches you. If it wouldn’t make him sound like a headcase, he’d ask you to record it. Sneak it into his fucking songs. Let the world know how pretty you sound for him.

“Fuck yeah, let me hear you,” Yoongi murmurs. He sets a steady pace with his fingers, curling them up and thumbing at your clit, and you cry out for him, your face contorting with pleasure. Fucking addicting. “Sound so pretty, baby.”

“M-missed you calling me that,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you rock your hips up into his touch, and Yoongi’s more than happy to let you take what you need. “Missed the way you touch me.”

“It’s only been a week,” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as his free hand slides over your abdomen and up to your chest to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Am I that good?”

Despite your pleasure, you still reach out to swat at him blindly, and he laughs when your hand connects with his chest. “I hate you,” you complain weakly, but the way your core clamps down on his fingers tells him something else entirely.

“Nah. You like me.” He dips down to lick and suck at your other nipple, satisfaction buzzing through his veins when your hands thread through his hair, grasping at the strands. Yoongi can feel your urgency, can feel how close you’re getting for him in the way your muscles tense beneath him, and he quickens the pace of his fingers in response. “Come on, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Shit, Yoongi—” you moan. Yoongi feels the tension in your body break, your pussy fluttering as his fingers pump inside of you, and he lifts his head to look. 

You look so beautiful when you come. Fuck, he wants to commit everything about it to memory: the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part in a moan, your eyes shut tight as you just… take it.

“That’s it,” he groans, slowing the pace of his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. “That’s my girl.”

After a moment, Yoongi withdraws his fingers, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Okay?” he asks when he sits up on his knees, studying your face as you catch your breath.

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding. Your body relaxes and you sigh, grinning. “More than.”

“Need a second?” he teases, grinning smugly at how fucked out you look already. 

“Fuck that,” you say, catching him off guard when you suddenly sit up, surging forward to tug his shirt up and off faster than he can react. The second it’s off, you’re going for his pants next, impatient. 

“Fuck, hold on,” Yoongi huffs breathlessly, amused as you struggle to push his pants down over his hips. He stops you, shifting off the bed for a moment to do away with them properly. “Eager, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” you say, laying back for a moment and lifting your own hips to shimmy your panties down your legs. Yoongi can’t help but stare, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of you. So fucking pretty.

You grin, sitting up again and gently tugging Yoongi closer by the waistband of his underwear. “Yoongi,” you murmur sweetly, and he hums, transfixed by the sight of your hand moving to palm at him through the fabric. “I wanna ride you. Is that okay?”

He inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. He feels his cock twitch in your hand at just the thought of you on top of him, and you smirk. Damn. You’re the smug one now, huh? 

“Are you sure?” Yoongi just needs to check. He wants to make sure that this is really what you want, but he’s already moving to shed the last barrier between you.

“Uh-huh,” you confirm, biting your lip as you glance down at his now-freed length, your hand wrapping around it and pumping him slowly. Fuck fuck fuck. Yoongi is not proud of the noise he makes, the pitch slightly higher than his normal timbre. If he doesn’t get inside of you soon he’s going to lose it.

Mercifully, you let go, your attention momentarily torn away as you shift off the bed to rifle through your bedside table. Yoongi moves to the head of the bed, sitting up against your headboard and taking a second to calm the fuck down. He wants this to be good for you, and if that’s gonna happen he needs to be able to not come as soon as you touch him, thanks.

When you return, condom in hand, all Yoongi can do is watch you as you tear the wrapper open, roll it onto his length. Wordlessly, you straddle him, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“Good?” you ask, and Yoongi nods stiffly. He’s so good. How could he not be, with you in his lap like this? With what you’re about to do? You’ve completely turned the tables on him, and he’s so fine with that.

“Just—” he grits out, squeezing your hips gently. “Fuck, go easy on me, okay? I want it to be good for you.”

“It will be,” you assure him, reaching between his body and yours to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Always is with you.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. “Not if I come in two seconds like a teenager,” he points out.

“I’d consider it a compliment,” you tease. Yoongi inhales sharply as you sink down just the slightest bit, his eyes squeezing shut. He feels your lips on his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss there. 

“I’ll go slow,” you tack on, and then you start to ease the rest of the way down slowly, stealing all of the breath from Yoongi’s lungs in the process.

“Shit,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. You moan softly once you’re finally fully seated on him, and he squeezes your hips to anchor you there, taking a moment to just look at you. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yoongi’s words are rewarded with a pretty flush on your cheeks and your shy smile. “Shut up,” you mumble. His heart squeezes in his chest, a grin spreading over his face.

“I can’t tell my girlfriend how beautiful she is?” he teases, using his grip on your hips to encourage you to move, tearing sudden, simultaneous moans from both of you as he starts to guide you into a slow, steady rhythm. “How crazy she makes me?”

“You can,” you pant, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage to follow his guidance. “Please,” you add, causing Yoongi’s lips to quirk up in a smirk.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your throat. His hands slide from your hips to your ass, groaning as he grips the flesh in his hands appreciatively. “Do you know how often I think about you? About this?”

“Tell me,” you whimper. You sound so desperate for it, for him, and Yoongi is completely awestruck by you. You’re always telling him exactly what you want, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t want to comply every fucking time. Anything for you.

“Can’t get you out of my head,” he moans into your neck. “You’re so fucking—god, you’re so sexy.” Your hips stutter, and he pulls a hand back to smack your ass once, wordlessly telling you to move a little faster. And you do. “So smart, so passionate. Can feel it in the way you write, but not just that. The way you talk about it, fuck, could listen to you forever.”

You moan, clenching around him, and Yoongi hisses, bucking up into you involuntarily. He’s not going to last much longer, he can feel it, but he can also tell plain as day that you’re just as close.

“Look so sexy riding me like this, too. I’m so lucky,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands over your body as he speaks. “This ass,” he says, gripping it in his hands again. “These tits.” Another squeeze, to your breast this time. “Fuck, your pussy. I could write chart-topping, award-winning songs about this fucking pussy.” One hand slides down, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles. You keen, moaning his name. “How wet it gets for me. The way it tastes, how it feels around my cock. Fuck, Y/N. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“I’m gonna come,” you mewl, and Yoongi can’t help the growl that tears from his throat.

“Yeah, come on my cock, baby, fuck, I’ve got you,” he grits out, planting his feet firmly into your mattress for leverage as he fucks up into you. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips meet your ass, the backs of your thighs, setting an urgent pace.

“Fuck!” you moan. Yoongi must be doing something right, judging by the way your thighs start to shake, the way your whole body goes taut in his grip. “Fuckfuckfuckrightthere—”

It’s still true: Yoongi will never get tired of the way you look when you come. You just let go, shaking and moaning and digging your nails into his shoulders as you writhe above him. He did that. Fuck.

His rhythm gets sloppy quickly and he pulls you as close as he can as he thrusts up into you, his own orgasm quickly following. Stars burst behind his eyes as he spills into the condom, groaning into the crook of your neck as he slows to a stop.

You pull him into a kiss, both of you gasping into each other’s mouths as you recover. When you tear yourself away, Yoongi feels your hands cradling his face, and he opens his eyes to find you looking at him, exhausted from exertion but smiling.

“I think all of those things about you too, you know,” you mumble fondly, thumbing his cheek. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. “It’s not just you.”

His hand comes up to rest over yours, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Guess we won’t get tired of each other any time soon.”

You laugh, carefully lifting up off of his lap. “No, I guess not.”

It’s hard to tear himself away from you, but Yoongi drags himself off your bed to dispose of the condom, navigating his way to your bathroom easily. Your apartment has the same layout, after all. When he returns, he uses one of your towels to wipe you down carefully.

Afterwards, he climbs into your bed with you, pulling you close, your head on his chest. For a moment, Yoongi tries to think back to the last time he felt this way, but he comes up short. Even in his last serious relationship, it didn’t feel this way. In the back of his head, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it until now, he always knew something was off about it. But this, being close to you like this, this thing you were both so scared of… It feels so right. 

“Seokjin thinks we’re going to fall in love,” you say after a long moment, your voice quiet. Dangerous thing to say, Yoongi thinks, with your head on his chest like this, so close to his traitorous heart.

“Seokjin thinks a lot of shit. Says all of it out loud, too,” Yoongi murmurs into your hair, taking one of your hands to thread his fingers with yours. “What do you think?”

Yoongi knows what he thinks. He thinks he’s already more than halfway there. He thinks this… you and him could really be something. Not for the first time tonight, he holds his breath.

“I think he’s right,” you answer softly, lifting your head to look at him.

As Yoongi looks back at you—his wallflower, his neighbor, his music journalist friend, his beautiful, hardworking girl—all he can think about is that Western bar he didn’t want to go to. The one he was dragged to on some random Friday, not even a wellness check night. The one he could’ve easily said no to going to in favor of staying in his studio instead. Just another thing he owes his friends for, he thinks. This might be the best one, though.

He squeezes your hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

★ ★ ★

EPILOGUE

You didn’t think you were going to make it.

Work has been busting your ass lately, and while you’re endlessly thankful that your career has suddenly taken a sharp turn for the unimaginable—interviewing Lee Chaerin, fucking CL up close and personal, are you joking?—you told Kevin that you had somewhere to be tonight. And that motherfucker still kept you in his office long past five to brainstorm next month’s edition.

Thankfully, you made it out with just enough time to make yourself look presentable in the mirror before making a dash for your car. Unfortunately, you had to forego running home to shower and change clothes, but you did wear a cute sweater and a flattering skirt to work today in anticipation of exactly that situation. Small mercies.

You’re late, definitely late enough for it to be rude, but Yoongi had insisted over and over that this was a completely casual thing.

You love Yoongi, but he’s totally full of shit. There’s nothing casual about meeting your boyfriend’s literal soulmates.

As you stalk towards the front door of the restaurant, you pray that you haven’t completely squandered your first impression before it even begins. Even Rina is making a better one than you—she showed up twenty minutes early. Backstabbing bitch.

Yoongi, ever the gentleman, meets you at the door.

“Will you relax?” he says, exasperated even as he leans in to kiss you ‘hello.’ When he pulls back, he flicks you on the forehead. Asshole. “You texted me your ETA like twelve times. While you drove. This is the furthest thing from a big deal.”

“Says you,” you grouse, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow easily as he guides you inside. “These are your soulmates. They already love you. What if they hate me? What if they want to burn me at the stake?”

This past month with Yoongi has been nothing short of bliss. You’re both busy, both practically living in your respective workplaces, but sometimes you make time to visit him in his studio and work next to him in silence. Sometimes you come home to find him cooking dinner for you in your apartment and swapping stories with Rina. Sometimes you sleep in on weekends, wake up next to him and admire the softness of his features in the morning, the way Pepper curls up on his chest like he’s been around forever. It’s so good it makes you want to cry. Comfortable. Plus, there’s lots and lots of sex. Sex so good it makes you actually cry sometimes.

“They won’t,” he insists, keeping you close as he weaves through tables to guide you to the private room in the back. “They’ll love you, too. Maybe even more than me. You’re much easier to get along with.”

“That’s true,” you concede with a dramatic sigh, smiling at him fondly. He may be a grouchy hermit, but he’s your grouchy hermit.

When you reach the door of the private room, he stops. You can hear Seokjin’s windshield wiper-y laugh, even with the door closed. “You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning to you with a grin.

“No,” you mumble, pouting. When he runs his thumb over your bottom lip mockingly, you huff at him. “But I guess I have to be, don’t I?”

“Yep,” he says simply, dipping down to kiss you one more time. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I love you, so they’ll love you, too.”

You hum, grabbing greedily at the front of his shirt to pull him down for one more kiss. “If you say so,” you murmur. “I love you, too.”

You smooth out his shirt and then do a full-body shake to ease your nerves, which makes Yoongi snort. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi nods, smiling at you fondly, gums showing. You’re damn lucky, you think, to be the one at the receiving end of those smiles. He loves you. It’s so fucking stupid how much he loves you, and how much you love him in return. It’s still new, still a little thing that both of you are learning how to nurture properly, but fuck it’s good.

When he opens the door, the noise of friends inside—both yours and his—filtering out into the restaurant, it’s that gummy smile still lingering in your mind that makes you take a step inside. That, and Yoongi’s voice in your head telling you it’s going to be okay. Because if there’s one thing you know beyond a shadow of a doubt after this past month, it’s that Yoongi will always be honest with you.

He squeezes your hand, and you step inside.

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST 

[sakuraodango]

My Sex Curse with Sexy and Lustful Men: Chapter 2

pairings: reader (heroine) x zayne x xavier x rafayel x sylus tags: reverse harem, smut-oriented, kinks (+more tags!), some plot, little angst and feelings, nsfw content mdni- please read with caution, AU lads!

zayne smut teaser in chapter 2

"N-no.."

You resisted Zayne by turning to the side, facing away from him. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but it was hard. Your body was calling out for Zayne, begging for his touch, but.. This was technically the first time you were going to have sex.

Sure, you've masturbated, touched yourself in your most intimate places, but this was way different from having someone else touch you...in those places.

This body may not a virgin, but mentally you were.

Zayne softly touched your face, turning you to face him.

"Do you really not want me to touch you? Your body is so hot now..." Zayne slowly traced his finger down your body, you took a couple of short breaths when he outlined your breast and now, he palmed the outside of your underwear.

"Nhn!" Your eyes widened from his slow rubbing.

It was just simple movements, but it felt so good. Why were you so sensitive? You couldn't hold back your voice and everything Zayne did- you knew he was just teasing you.

"Darling?" He spoke in a low, deep voice. "If you say no once more, I'll stop for real. I do not want to do anything uncomfortable to you."

Zayne..

Your body was hurting you... You couldn't hold it in anymore.

"...give it to me..~" Your eyes met Zayne's. He saw your pupils turning into hearts. "Zayne, please, I need it~~ Hurry~ Hurry~!!"

You grinded your hips against his hand, begging for more friction.

Fuck it, you gave into the curse.

Zayne chuckled, seeing you so horny was such a turn on, I mean who wouldn't when it's someone you love.

Zayne lifted up your long skirt, seeing your underwear was already drench in your wetness. He kissed the top of your underwear, only for you to jump your hips up against his face. Zayne smiled against you, moving his face to match your grinding.

You were so desperate for him, tears falling from your eyes. This curse hurt so much..!

And Zayne, he knew what you needed it.

He moved your underwear to the side, finally using his tongue on you. You gasped, unaware of how great it felt for your pussy to get eaten. Zayne's tongue was stiff and long, he licked your folds, placing a kiss on your clit and rolling his tongue up and down your pussy.

Your hands moved up from your side to hold onto Zayne's head, locking your fingers within his hair. That only encouraged him to press against you harder.

"Zayne..! Zay-Zayne~" You moaned.

"How does it feel?"

"I-it's great~" 

You couldn't hold back anymore. You felt your high as Zayne continued pushing his tongue deeper and deeper into you.

"!!!" Your eyes widened when he shoved a finger inside of you moving to suck your clit.

You swore you saw white, as you came onto Zayne's face.

"Aah---!" You body jerked, squirting your love juices out.

Wow...

T-that was sex..?

Zayne moved from under your skirt, to above you again. You blushed, seeing how wet his face was from yourself. He wiped his chin with his sleeve. T-that's so embarrassing..! You tried to wipe Zayne's face as well, when he kissed the palm of your hand.

"I-I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry, my love." You felt your heart jump. "I loved it."

Zayne positioned himself inbetween your legs. No.. That wasn't sex sex, that was foreplay. This was sex.

You saw the bulge Zayne had. He unzipped his pants, bringing out his shaft. W-woah, h-he was huge!

You covered your eyes with your hands from seeing his cock, making Zayne chuckle. "Why are you shying away now? It's not like you haven't seen it before."

read more at AO3

masterlist | lads masterlist

[yuyu1024]

Fake Dating

Pairings: Mingyu x Y/N

Genre/tags: non idol au, university couple

Warning: 🔞 fluff, suggestive but not purely smut, cursing, pet names, jealousy, mention of bullying but not extreme

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.4k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: written this while drinking my 3rd cup of coffee. Thats why it must be all over the place and does not make sense and feels a bit rushed... but yeah. 💀 im fine lol.

Anyways... busy days ahead.

Stay safe.

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

"Hold my hand..." he utters the second you jump out of his SUV's front passenger seat.

"What?" You grunt as you put your backpack on you.

"Just.... hold... my... hand..." he hiss through his teeth whilst smiling.

You roll your eyes, "Fine." And then intertwined your fingers with his.

"Next time... when I tell you to do something... just do it okay?" He says trying to sound sweet.

You got it now. His ex is probably within the perimeter of the parking lot that's why he asked you to hold his hand.

"Okay... I will listen next time..." you force a sweet smile and then tip toe to pinch him on his cheek as a gesture of trying to act like you find him cute but not really.

"Thank you."

You two are over acting everything but you know from outside perspective, it is believable. Coz you even got your friends fooled. None of them know that between you and Mingyu, everything is just fake. You are not actually dating. He just asked for your help.

Why you? You have no fucking idea.

"How long are we going to do this?" You ask as you two walk along the sidewalk.

"Until I get the reaction I need from her..."

"And what reaction is that?"

He snorts a proud and yet annoyingly laugh. "Beg."

"Beg?" You stop walking. "This thing will end when she begs for you to take her back?"

"Yeah."

You roll your eyes again and let go of his hand. "That is silly..."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well... I know Selena." You sigh, "She was my schoolmate since highschool... and she never begs men. It's always the other way around."

"Wow. Don't look down at me like that! Am I not attractive enough to make her beg and regret she broke up with me?"

You scan him from head to toe. "You are not bad... I must say... you are the very first good looking guy I actually approve by looks....that Selena dated."

"Really?" He arches a brow.

"However.... given her history." You pull out your phone from your pocket. "Goodluck." You mumble as you go on and scroll over texts on your phone. "Plus... you using me... is a wrong move... I am not a competition or whatsoever for her."

"If that's what you think... why did you agree with me? Doing this?"

"I was... desperate... like you. I needed saving that day too... so..." you trail off, your eyes busy with your phone still.

Yeah. That day when Mingyu pulled you from the bleachers, you needed that save. You were getting bullied by the mean girls from your class. Well, just because you caught their eyes that day.

Anyways, that afternoon during Mingyu's practice, you were there being tormented by those girls. They were acting like they were your friends but they were pinching and pulling your hair just to make you feel uncomfortable. And then suddenly, Mingyu spots you from the distance.

He called you by your name, asks you about something about going home with him and then chatted about random stuff. You were so fucking confuse but you went with his acting. At first you thought he saw you getting bullied so he helped you. But them after the whole quick kdrama acting, he explained everything to you.

That's it.

"Hey..." Mingyu steals your phone from your hand. "Stop using your phone when we're talking... you know its rude if you are talking to someone and you are not even paying attention."

You try to take it back but you fail. He is taller than you. "I am listening... and answering.."

"No..." he locks your phone and puts it in his bag. "Why are you so addicted with your phone?"

"I'm not! I was just replying to someone..."

"Who?"

"None of your business... babe..." you stick your tongue out and dig your phone out of his gym bag. "Anyways... goodluck with practice... just message me if we need to do something or your giving me a ride home or not."

He frowns. "Of course, I will drive you home."

You smile. "Okay then... thank you. See you!" You wink and left

****

Days had passed. Nights had gone by so quick. It has been an hectic few weeks for you. With all of the reviewing you have been doing preparing for the exams, on top of trying to survive each classes. You are dead inside now basically.

"I'm so tired." You sigh as you lay your head on your book and unplug your phone from charging. "It has been four months already?" You mumble as you scroll over you calendar for your schedules and see the monthsary reminder that Mingyu had set for every 26th of the month. "We lasted this long...?"

You thought that this fake dating will be over after 3 weeks. 2 months tops if Mingyu wanted to be serious with the 'making selena jealous and beg' agenda. But four months? That's a record breaker. Well atleast to your judgement of him.

It's not that you are getting tired of this fake dating shit. It's just... emotionally draining you in somewhat way.

He makes your heart confuse every now and then. And you can't do anything about it. That big giant puppy is a good-looking, athletic and charming dude. His attitude in life and personality is not bad either. He is funny and smart too. So... he is a good dream boyfriend material.

It's not a shocker that Selena liked him. Nor the rest of his fanclub. Mingyu is....hot. And you are not blind nor heartless.

However since you know your place in this modern world, your level in the who's hot and who's not. You are NOT a good match for him. You are just existing now in his world because he have a mission. His ex. So.. catching feelings is not in your to do list.

Yeah you can always ask him to end the deal. He said it himself; that you have the freedom too. BUT, besides being the hot guy in your life. Mingyu had been a friend too...(which you lack in your life sadly) so you are not sure if you are willing to let go a decent friend if you end whatever relationship you have with him.

*buzz*

🐶: where are you?

💖: why?

🐶: wdym why? Don't tell me you forgot?

💖: forgot what?

💖: just tell me

💖: im busy.

It took three minutes before he replies again

🐶: my mother's party is tonight.

"Fuck!" You hiss as you scramble to get all your things in your bag

You got a few sshh and be quiet from the other students studying in the library.

"Sorry..." you mouth as you hurry your way out

🐶: just tell me where the fuck are you and im going to pick you up.

You were trying to reply as you run out of the building but then the sound of the pouring rain made you gasp.

"Shit!"

You are dumbfounded. You don't know what to do now. You have no umbrella and you need to get home and get dress for his mom's birthday party.

*phone buzzes*

"Where are you?" He says as soon as you answered the call

"Library building. Outside..." you exhale your frustration. You scan the whole empty space in front of you. No one is running. No human is in sight. "How can I go? I don't have any change of clothes with me... maybe... I can just--"

"Found you."

You look straight up and see his pick up truck.

He rolls down the window of the passenger seat. "Get in!" He yells

"Crap!" You put your phone in your leather bag and then raise your jacket on top of your head before running like crazy down the steps.

The moment you got in, he sees your legs, part of your skirt and shirt are wet, "I've been calling you..."

"Sorry... my phone died and I just charged it."

His forehead is wrinkled. He does not look like he is in the mood.

"Figured." He then opens the zip of your bag and takes your phone so he can plug it to his car. "Let's hurry home so we can both change..."

"But I don't have--" you pause as you see how drenched he is. "Why are you so soaked?" You take off your jacket and put it around him.

He chuckles. "Thanks?" He finds it funny that you give him your small as jacket to a big guy like him.

"Just take it... you're cold."

"So are you..." he says

"I'm fine." Then you scan the back seat of his car, checking if he have a spare shirt somewhere.

"What are you looking for?" He glances at you when he sees you reaching for something while he's driving. "Hey!" He holds on to you when you almost slipped.

"Got it!" You grunt. "I found you a--"

Your cheeks suddenly burns like hell. No, you did not randomly got sick or what. You're just caught off guard when you straighten up your position and felt... and saw that his hand is on your thigh.

Mingyu is fucking holding your thigh!

"Is that a shirt of mine?" He asks, his eyes is on the road.

"Uhmm..." you answer, "uhuh."

"How did you know I have clean a shirt back there?" He's still not moving his hand off you.

"Well..." you look outside the window to your side, pretending to not notice it. "I remembered you said you always bring extra... especially during practice."

He hums his answer. "You do listen when I talk..."

"Whatever."

You became silent and stiff. Even though eventually he removed his hand because he is driving. He needs his hands.

But the warmth that his hand left on your skin lingers. It burns. And it felt like your skin misses the touch.

*phone buzzes*

You bend over to unplug your phone and see who texted you. But then suddenly, Mingyu swerves his car to park giving you a whiplash and dropping your phone on the floor.

"What the fuck? Why are you so aggressive parking your--"

It was a blurr. You don't know what caused it nor what happened but Mingyu just parked his car, unbuckle his seatbelt and lunges at you. He, out of the blue, just started kissing you.

"Mingyu!" Your voice is small and weak. You're panting. "W-what the hell...?"

His eyes are just on you, scanning your face. Most particularly your bruised lips.

"I don't want you to reply to him anymore..." he says

"W-what?"

"I know your still texting your ex..." he cups your face with his one hand. "And I don't like it." He leans close again and kisses you more. Sucking your lower lip and tongue.

This is so fucking wrong but you can't get a grip of yourself to stop kissing back. It feels so fucking good. Your body was cold earlier but now, it's not.

"You are kissing me... because of that? You hate my ex?" You ask as your lips separates

"Don't be dumb. Of course that's not the only reason..." His hand slides back to your thights and it earned him a sensual reaction that made him smile in pure joy. "You know... I like it when you blush..." he says before going in for another kiss.

Everything that's happening is out og the blue. How did you both got in this situation? No clue. Does he like you? Is he just horny? What?

"W-wait..." your back is already leaning on the door whilst you still have your seatbelt on. "I don't think... this is right."

"Hmmm..."

"I think we should--"

Before finishing your sentence, Mingyu unbuckles your seatbelt and pushed your seat back so it lowers. You yelp as it goes down, flat.

"Move to the back." He orders

"What?" You look at him and the backseat.

"Crawl..."

"W-why?"

"Y/N... you know what I mean... go... please?"

You heart is beating fast. Its a mixed of excitement and fear of what if you guys get caught. Yes his car is tinted but...

He totally stops the car engine (to be safe) and then starts pulling his shirt off

"What are you doing?" You gasp

He smiles, "why are you asking questions that's already obvious?" He is big but he moved from the driver's seat to the backseat beside you.

"Well..." you hug your legs as you watch him move

"Don't tell me... you're a shy type person when it comes to fucking?" He is smirking.

"I'm... not....it's just..."

"Just what?" He ask while removing his bracelet and wrist watch

"Why are we doing this?" You question

He shrugs. "Because... I like you."

"You like me?" You are taken aback. "Seriously?" And then laugh. "You're funny..."

"Who said I'm joking?" He grabs both your ankles, spread your legs and place them on his side. He is hovering you now.

"But... selena..." you are breatheless as you see him basically on top of you now.

"The deal was only for a month...right?"

You nod

"It didn't worked. So... I moved on..."

"The fuck? So why do we still do this dating shit?"

"Because... I like you."

"What? I'm confused."

"Selena broke up with me... coz I started liking someone else..."

"What?! Who?"

Mingyu lowers down his face and starts kissing you on your neck, just below your ear. "Obviously... its you..."

He continues to nibble your neck until he felt your hips react with his touches.

"Your...y-your making this shit up... just to... just to fuck me..." you are moaning the words out now.

"If I just want to fuck you... I could just ask you right there and then in the field..." he explains "I'm sorry I made this fake dating shit up... but... I know you'll not try to date me if I didn't do it... I know you don't like me before... so..."

You just stare at him and try to absorb whatever he's saying

"Why.... why do you like me?"

"I don't know.. I just did..." he pushes the hair off your face. "I think you don't remember... but we've been to same classes a few times before... you were so quiet and always isolated that you don't notice me when I try to reach out..." he snorts a small smile. "I can explain the whole story in detail later if you want but..."

"But what?"

"I'm fucking horny right now... and I don't think I can wait anymore..."

Your eyes widens before laughing out loud. Mingyu is so real and does not deny what he needs.

"Okay then....." you try to stop laughing. "Let's do it quick before anyone sees us plus your mom is waiting..."

"Fuck yeah."

[mycatishandsome]

How I Shift: a step-by-step

So to start, I want to remind ya'll that what works for me, can and wil work for you, if you assume it will.

For context, I like to believe that the multiverse theory is true, but like mixing it in with the LOA (3D/4D/etc.) theory. I could sit here all day and talk and talk about those theories, but that's not what this post is about. If you scroll on my blog, you'll find plenty of posts that can do it better than I.

SO, where do we begin?

1.) As an obvious start, it's good to pick where it is you'd like to shift/ what you'd like to shift into this "reality". It's not super necessary, but it's great to reaffirm where it is your going/what you're bringing in.

2.) I like shifting at night (like most others), so before a shift, something I'll do is carve out a bit of time to go through my Pinterest boards. This is a great way to visualize what you want (what you technically already have) This is also great for my non-visualizers (or just those who have trouble doing it on the spot). it's a great way to reaffirm.

3.) Then depending on my DR, I'll choose an ambiance sound that is related (for example: star wars-space/ship sounds, harry potter-train sounds, pirates??? ships creaking/wind)(also sounds can be super broad, like rain/thunderstorm sounds) personally, I feel like ambience is crazy helpful for me (as I assume it is).

-The way I see it, and how I use it: The sounds I'm hearing ambiance wise, are the sounds I hear in my DR as well. They will not distract me! I have animals and loud roommates. Rather than sit there and get annoyed, i think to myself, "wow my house mates are rowdy tonight" in my DR. I apply those sounds TO my DR. This goes for the ambiance as well!

4.) At this point, I then pick how I'm going to meditate. So because I have autism, I tend to use the same two mediations because it's what I'm comfortable with (and they help me the best!) I'll tag them here :)

I start with this one: Law of Assumption meditation

Then listen to this one immediately after: Law of Assumption Meditation part 2

I listen to these one after the other using an app called musi. I set them to a timer so i don't have to stop a playlist or anything, just set it and go!

5.) I sometimes strait up fall asleep and shift, and sometimes i shift during these meditations. It often depends on how my mind set is, as sometimes I've had a tough day, or i just can't stop thinking about the exam i have tomorrow. Generally when I feel like this, I listen to another meditation before these other two. I don't have a specific one to link, i usually just look up 10 minute meditations. These will usually help me to relax and empty my mind.

Notice how none of these are shifting meditations. if you think it will work for you, then it will! I've always found that even when i was in the right mindset, shifting meditations were very.....not what shifting is. I always felt like they played against what i was trying to achieve. I'm sure there are some that are great and incredibly helpful!! I personally just haven't found that one yet. Shifting is generally simple, and to the point, there's no need to use complicated steps. (ONCE AGAIN, UNLESS you find they work for you! in your reality they may work just fine!)

I hope this helps, or at the very least gives some of ya'll some ideas on what to try!

Happy shifting!