#YES. see what its like to be the woman of the household. IDIOT

[roseofithaca]

Caught In The Act (Final)

Silver recovers from her ordeal at the hands of Humphrey's father, set in @idiotwithanipad 's Era Swap AU with her oc Amy Bone.

-

Poppy milk keeps her sedated for the first week, allowing her to rest in a deep sleep while her burns and cuts heal.

Rogh barely leaves her side for all that time. Petite Lune's mother had been hysterical at first, charging into her employer's house after hearing the news and demanding to see her daughter. She's calmed a little now, though she also stays by her child's bedside, even though Stompy's parents had said she could sleep in the guest room next door. Rogh watches as she mops Silver's brow and holds her hand, singing softly to her.

So many bandages. That had been the hardest part, Petite Lune desperate for rest only to suffer more as the doctors applied their poultices before wrapping her up in the white cloths, screaming in agony before they could give her medicine for the pain and to let her sleep. Rogh wishes he could tell some of these idiot 'Wise Men' that burns are best treated with cold Moonah water, but of course no one listens to him.

Stompy visits often, though there's an obvious tension between her and Mary. Nothing that the older woman admits aloud, but her protective maternal instincts are now heightened to the extreme. She refuses to let anyone be alone with Silver without her there, even her best friend.

"She blames me. I know it." He listens to Stompy speak aloud when she's alone in her room. Or perhaps she is aware now that she's not alone; "Maybe she's right to. I knew what Grandpapa was like. I just...never thought he would have cause to hurt Silver. I'm so selfish. This is my fault."

"No, Stompy. He big bad man. None of this your fault." He tries his best to comfort her, even if his words don't reach her ears. What he would give to be able to put his arms around her.

Little Lordy man tries to assure everyone that his father is not allowed inside the house for the foreseeable. He's clearly nervous of the consequences of such a decree but doesn't mention them aloud. His focus is on trying to make it up to Silver and her mother.

"They are only staff, Humphrey." Sophie bemoans to him in the drawing room one evening; "And while I do not condone his methods, if the girl was involved in witchcraft-."

"She's not. That's the end of it, alright Sophie? I won't hear anymore." Humphrey tries to put his foot down, though his voice trembles from the lack of experience; "Silver and Mary have been nothing but a blessing to this household since they arrived. And you can't deny the positive effect her company has had on our daughter."

Sophie sighs as she continues her reading.

"That is my concern, if she has influenced Aimée-."

"What if it was Marguarete?" Humphrey counters.

Sophie blinks. Then she goes quiet, eyes down on her book. Point made.

Perhaps it is his bias talking, having watched her grow up from a cub, but Rogh knows Sophie doesn't have a heart of stone. She is devout to her God and its big, boring book with all the silly rules, but she's not cruel enough to condemn two dutiful members of her staff to the pyre. Like any good mother, she is merely thinking of her own cub first. Same as Mary.

It warms Rogh's heart when the two women finally talk, Sophie gently knocking on the door to Silver's room. Mary had jumped awake from her seat and stumbled to her feet.

"F-forgive me, milady, I dids not hear thee approach, I be a mess-." The larger woman fusses.

Sophie manages a small smile and raises her hand.

"Please sit. This is your child's space and I am but a visitor." She says, politely. She walks over and smiles down at the sleeping Silver, bandaged hands laid out above the sheets to avoid being squashed. "The doctors tell me she will make a full recovery."

"Yes, praise be, milady." Mary says, reaching to tuck a lock of Silver's hair behind her ear; "Though she will carry these scars for the rest of her life. My beautiful darling girl."

That not so bad, Rogh thinks. Scars were always something to be proud of, back in his day, whether man or woman. Sign of strength and resilience. If anything he'd always wished for more, like Riva and Shul.

"I am sure they will not tarnish her. You have a very pretty daughter, is impressive coming from...." Sophie cuts herself off, "Never mind."

Mary either doesn't hear the near miss insult or simply doesn't care.

An awkward silence passes, Rogh watching from the windowsill, before Sophie speaks again.

"Mary. These accusations that my father in law had...about Silver-." She begins.

"My daughter be no lackey of Satan, Ma'am." Mary says, firmly, "Here. I's can prove it."

She retrieves a small but thick book from her apron and hands it across the bed to the other woman.

"T'is my little'ens Bible. I cannots read a word but she hath studied it every night since her da taught her to read as a nipper." Mary says, earnestly; "I has seen her scribble and take notes of all her favorite passages. Observe it if ye wish for signs of devilry but I's certain t'will only prove her devotion to Jesus!"

Sophie glances down at the book, shaking in Mary's anxious hand. Even without opening it, the little tome is clearly worn from years of use. The Lady of the house smiles, then gently pushes it back to the other mother.

"There is no need. I trust you both." Sophie smiles; "Goodness knows, she could probably give my girl some help knowing the Lord's word. You worry for your Silver's health while I worry for my Aimée's soul!"

Mary smiles; "Your little'en's soul be sweeter than she lets on, Ma'am."

"I am still bound to worry. Oh, the bane of having daughters, don't you agree?"

"A bane and a blessing, milady." Mary nods, clutching the book close to her chest.

"Agreed." Sophie smiles.

"Agree." Rogh joins in, his mind suddenly flashing back to his own daughters, all those many moonahs ago.

-

At first, as the haze of opium starts to dim, she believes she's gone to Heaven. White sheets. White pillow. White - not grey or yellow - chemise. White netting against the open windows. It's as if she's awoken amongst the clouds.

Only when she stirs and rubs against the bandages, causing a sharp burst of pain in her side, does it all come flashing back to her.

"Oh! You's awake! Oh my darling!"

Mummy is suddenly there, hands clasping her face, smothering her in kisses. Silver chuckles weakly before gently shoving her back.

"Mu-Mummy, I is fine! Honest! Stop or ye shall kiss my face off!" She jests.

She allows a big, long hug, her mother's strong arms more around her head and neck than her bandaged body. Silver takes in a sniff of her strange looking new clothes.

"Mummy...is that perfume you be wearin'?"

Mary chuckles; "No, little'en, nothin' so fancy. Her Ladyship dids allow me to have a proper bath, all heated up in a great big tub as they do. And she let me wash with their fancy smellin' butter!"

"You mean soap, Mummy?" Silver grins.

"Be that what it called? I may has tried to eats it at first."

Mother and daughter laughed, Silver's exposed fingertips clutching onto her.

"His Lordship doth feel so guilty for what his blaggared of a da dids to you, little'en." Mary explains; "I has been waited on like a highborn whilst ye been restin' up, offered all the best food though I haven't had the stomach for halfs of it, was offered a comfy bed like yours and even fresh new clothes - though I suspect that be so Her Ladyship don't haves to smell me."

"Oh bully, I shoulds get tortured more often!" Silver joked.

What was supposed to be a light hearted jape had the opposite effect, making Mary's expression shift instantly from jovial to tearful, her face crumbling as she reached to hug her daughter again.

"Mummy, I didn't mean-."

"Oh my girl, my precious girl! What he dids to thee, ye musts have been so scared, my angel." Mary sobs against her daughter's hair.

Silver pats her back. She gives her tongue a flick inside her mouth, as if to check it was still there. Someone shutting a door nearby makes her flinch, reminded of the crack of the whip.

Scared? Scared was an understatement.

She was hesitant to confess it to Mummy, but even all her prayers to Jesus and the Virgin hadn't been enough to bring her comfort in that horrible hut. Not even the old gods that Mother Bridghe had taught her about took away the pain.

No. Only one spirit had come to rescue her.

As Mummy is still chattering on, her sweet wild man walks casually through the wall, nearly bouncing up out of his furs when he sees her awake against her pillow.

"Ha! You awake! Thank Moonah!" He cheers, grinning ecstatically.

She can't help but laugh at his excitement.

"What be so funny, darling girl? Hope you ain't had too much milk of the poppy, it can turn thee loopy." Mummy tuts at her side, oblivious to her other guest.

-

Once Amy had been informed she was awake, she'd left her lesson early, ignoring the scalding shouts of her tutor to run upstairs.

She finds Silver sat up in bed, propped against the pillows, her mother feeding her a bowl of soup with a spoon.

"Mummy, I can feed myself!" She protests, embarrassed.

"Not while thy hands be in them swaddles, now open ups." Mary orders.

She's about to comply when she spots Amy in the threshold.

"Mi'lady!" Silver smiles, already looking much better, if a little skinnier from little food as she slept.

Amy feels the strange, unfamiliar compulsion to hug her friend. But she's held back by lack of recent experience, her own aversion to touch, as well as the fear of damaging Silver's bandages. And so she nervously approaches the bed, fiddling with the sleeves of her dress.

"You're awake...I'm glad." She tries to smile and Silver can't help but chuckle.

She looks to Mary; "Mummy, please can I has a moment alone with Lady Amy?"

Mummy's lips twitch, clearly not too keen.

"But darling, your soup-"

"Can be warmed up later. Please. Just ten minutes." She puts on her best Doe Eyes for her mother, which melts her as usual.

Assuring them that she will be just down the corridor, she gives a slight bow of the head to Amy before shuffling out the door.

Silver lets out a breath as if she's been having to hold one in for hours.

"I didn't think she'd ever leave me alone." She smiles.

Amy nods, sitting in the empty chair beside her.

"She's been very worried. We all have." She says, tapping her fingers in her lap, looking at Silver's bandages; "Tell me what happened. How did Grandpapa...What did...?"

Silver sighs; "M'sorry, milady. I was careless." She looks to the door and lowers her voice, leaning in to her friend; "T'is true. I dids place the onion there as a bane 'pon your grandfather. I is sure it helped to give him the runs this past fortnight."

Amy puts her hands to her face.

"Why would you take such a risk?!"

"For you, milady. For all the misery he hath caused you. Justice needed to be served." Silver whispers.

"What do you know about what he's done to me?"

Silver pursed her lips.

"Most of it I did read by my own intuition, miss." She says as she eyes the pin prick marks on Amy's hands; "The rest was told to me by...a mutual acquaintance."

Her eyes drift to the windowsill.

Amy straightens her back, following her gaze.

"My...My wild friend, you mean?" She cringes; "He's here?"

"Yes, milady. T'was him that saved me. I mean, your da did the leg work and I is most grateful, especially for the blow he dids give to that old turnip." Silver smirked; "But t'was dear Rogh who beckoned his horse to come find me. If it not for him, I...."

Her eyes water a little as she looks over at Rogh again, the ancient spirit ducking his head, bashful.

"Oh go on, smell the soup, sweetheart. Thou has earned it." Silver tells him.

He grins at her, then doesn't need telling twice, moving past Stompy to lean over the steaming bowl on her bedside table.

"Oooh, chicken! Nice."

Amy follows where Silver looks at the empty air, blinking at the bowl of soup.

"I asked...No, I told him to find you. For me. To prove what you said was true." Amy confesses.

Silver's heart swells at her Lady's concern for her wellbeing.

"Was thou truly afraid for me?"

"Of course I was, you fool! I couldn't bear the thought of having you replaced with a less adequate servant." She says, wryly, a twist in the corner of her lips.

Silver giggles a little at that.

"Do you believe me now, Miss? That your friend be here with us, not merely a story from thy past?" She asks.

Amy seems to think on it, then shrugs.

"Evidence seems clear enough. I accept that he is real. But...." She rubs at her arms; "If he wishes for me to call him a friend again, I'm not so sure."

Rogh looks up from the soup, his face falling again.

"Amy...." Silver tries.

"I am most grateful he saved you. It means everything to me, truly." She says, emotions bubbling beneath the ice; "But in some ways I feel even more conflicted. Because now I know it was within his power to stop my grandfather from hurting me, as he did you, and yet he never..."

Rogh steps forward, reaching a hand out; "Stompy. Me always try. Me not see any horsie around to get help!"

"He's saying that he would have done if he had the means, milady." Silver translates the silence; "I just be very lucky that your papa were mounted on his horse at the time...and I happens to spoil that greedy colt with extra treats."

Speaking of which, she'd have to convince Lord Humphrey to reward Monty with a new saltlick.

Amy merely huffed, clearly not convinced; "That is...rather convenient. But if he has your trust then he has mine as well."

Silver looks to her wild man, staring with so much sorrow and longing at his old friend. She pats the spot on the bed for him to sit down with them.

Amy blinks, realising what she's doing. She raises a hand up in that general area.

"Oh, don't touch him, milady, it causes them great discomfort." Says Silver.

"Right, of course. I remember." Amy pulls her hand back; "....Something we share in common." She smiles, just a little, nearly in Rogh's direction.

He smiles back at her.

Silver winces as she shifts again, the burns on her lower back irritating.

"Are you all right? Should I fetch the doctor?" Asks Amy.

"No, no....I'll be fine. Itchy more than painful." She huffs.

"You did very well not to confess. I hated when he would make me watch them..." Amy cringes at the memory. The pliers gripping that woman's index fingernail.

Silver rubs at her wrists; "T'was not just for me, milady. I donts think he cared what a mere peasant girl got up to in her heathen crafts....T'was thee that he wished to condemn."

"What?" Amy balked.

"He were convinced that it were you that told me to place it there. As vengeance against all he hath done, I expect." Explained the young witch, "He did not care if I confessed to practicin' my crafts. He just wanted me to place the blame on you."

"And...you refused?"

Silver shrugs: "Would have been a lie, milady."

"But it might have spared you!"

"....Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Silver quotes, blushing, "Or hers, Milady."

Amy lets out a small laugh; "Maybe there is some sense in that book. Just don't tell Mama I said that."

The two women laugh together, Rogh just watching them both. So many years since he heard Stompy laugh like that.

"I am so sorry, Silver. Sorry that he hurt you to get to me." She apologises. "You don't have to fear Grandpapa again. My father sent him on his way. He's threatening all sorts to make Papa regret it, but we'll manage." Amy assures.

Silver looks thoughtful, staring once more at her Lady's own concealed wounds.

"Ye dont needs to apologise to me, miss. But...you do needs to tell thy da what he's been doing to thee." She says.

Amy shakes her head, hands trembling; "I cannot. I wouldn't be believed. I would be...locked up in some asylum."

"After what his Lordship saw him doing to me? Believe me, Lady Amy. I think he'd see it to be plausible." She says, "Your da does love thee, terribly so. He needs to know how much of a monster that man fully be, before he doth hurt another."

"Petite Lune big wise, Stompy. Listen to her." Rogh said, earnestly.

"Our wild friend agrees with me." She smiles.

Amy rolled her eyes; "Oh fantastic, both of you to gang up on me now! Terrific."

The three of them laugh again, all together. Somewhere, deep in the corners of her brain, Amy is almost convinced she can hear that familiar gruff, heavy chuckle she once thought only existed in her dreams.

[sweetloleepop]

Synopsis: What happens when a lonely husband is left with an obsessive maid?

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Reader

Tags: 1960's AU, explicit sexual content, maid reader, making out, unprotected sex, masturbation, oral (m receiving), creampie, angry sex, swearing, slight degredation, infidelity

a/n: ⁱ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵍˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ⁱ ˢʷᵉᵃᵃᵃʳ

Wordcount: 1.9k

“Ugh, ahh, Mr. Smith”, moans, grunts, and mumbles are all that I can utter as the guvnor, Erwin Smith, pounded onto me. The speed of his thrusts and the depth of his cock had me seeing stars. “You can’t shy away from calling my name now, can you?” Mr. Smith asked. I was too lost in pleasure to even answer coherently, and Mr. Smith – No – Erwin was quick to bring me back down. He suddenly slowed his pace and once again spoke, “Do you not know how to answer when someone’s talking to you?” , “I-I’m sorry, mister- ah, Erwin”

||

I’m (Y/N) (L/N), I have been working for the Smith household for 5 years now. I’ve watched as my two employers, Mister and Missis Smith, fall deeply in love and fall out of it. Both became too busy with personal businesses, but still, it led the woman feeling neglected. I can’t really blame her though, hours of waiting for him at night just for him to not even remember that today is their wedding anniversary. She felt like she deserved better and so she looked for someone else. As bad as it is, its none other than her husband’s friend, Nile Dok. Erwin knew, he’s not an idiot. He knew the reason as to why his wife is out more than usual, why she goes home later than he does, and as to why she became colder to him yet more friendly with others. But Erwin can’t stop now, he’s worked hard for his company and he is not giving up now.

Yes, his wife probably needs him, but she now has someone else and she still comes back to him so its not that big of a deal. That’s before he knew who she was cheating on him with. They argued for almost an eternity that night, I could hear as vases were broken, as things were thrown, and cusses and names were exchanged. It became really toxic, but somehow, I don’t feel poisoned instead, I felt empowered.

After that night, the Smith residence has become deafeningly quiet. Some times the couple would meet at other parts of the house, they would either not acknowledge each other’s presence or argue a bit then have some wordless sex. I could sometimes hear Mr. Smith confront the missus and after that comes the sounds of moans.

The sounds were loud, loud enough for me to hear the degrading words that Mr. Smith throws at his wife. I wonder what that feels like, to be touched by him, to be held by him… The thoughts of Mr. Smith plagues me at night, I can’t help but creep my hands down and touch myself.

||

Today, Mr. Smith looks more stressed than usual. He hadn’t the time to even exit his home office to get something to eat. Being the responsible maid that I am, I took it upon myself to give him dinner. I knocked gently on his door and I felt excited as I heard his rumbling voice. I entered his room, it was dark, the only source of light was a little lamp placed on his desk. Mr. Smith looked tired, his eyes are heavy and a stubble was evident on his chin. He looks hot. I made my way to his desk and served him his dinner, our hands slightly touched, ah, his hands are a little rough. He thanked me and I’ve exited the room.

A little later, I was called to take his dishes. He was deep within the pile of his paperwork. “Have you enjoyed your dinner, sir?”. “I can’t say I didn’t, the steak was cooked exquisitely”, he replied with his deep voice, how attractive.

||

It was nearing midnight, 11:55pm to be exact. I was lying on my bed, sleep is yet to envelop me. I wonder if he's asleep. I didn’t heard the front door open earlier indicating that Mrs. Smith isn’t home yet. I decided to check on the guvnor, I exited my room and made my way to the master bedroom. I knocked on the door and received no answer. “Mr. Smith?” after a few minutes without his reply, I slowly opened the door. He’s not here.

Its not unusual for the guvnor to stay up late doing his papers, but its almost midnight. I reached his office and once again, I knocked. “Mr. Smith, are you there?” I gently spoke. There’s also no answer, it was getting suspicious and I was getting worried so I opened the door and looked around. There he is, sleeping on his desk, face down on a small pile of paper. He must’ve worked very hard to finish a lot. I walked up to him, I bent myself a little to get closer. I looked into his hair-covered eyes, his eyes are closed and his hair looks soft. He looks peaceful just like this, so alluring.

He shifted a little and finally opened his eyes. I moved backwards, alarmed. “I’m sorry mister Smith, did I wake you up?”, “No, its aright. What time is it?” he asked, his voice gruff. “It’s almost midnight sir, 11:57”.

He stood up and walked around the desk, near where I am standing. The sleepiness probably hasn’t left his system yet and he stumbled. I caught him right before he fell. Mr. Smith is a tall and muscular man, I should’ve known trying to catch him halfway through a fall would’ve brought both of us to the ground. Or did I just ignored that? We both fell, with him below me. I stared right into his eyes, they were wonderful. I could get lost in his eyes forever. I’ve never been this close to him, I’m slowly drowning in desire. I want you, Mister Smith…

I placed my face closer to his and-

“W-what are you doing, (Y/N)?” Erwin asked. “I… I want you mister Smith, please…” I pleaded with desperation. I’ve waited for this to happen for so long – way too long.

He didn’t replied, he just stared. The clock seemed to tick slowly as I waited for him to do something. If he won’t, then I will. Even if it takes force, even if it takes my life, I will.

Mr. Smith stayed still, he looks like he’s contemplating. I took the opportunity to lightly roam my fingers through his chest. He looked into my eyes whilst mine followed my finger. He let out a groan and I looked back at his face. Before I knew it, his lips are on mine. I kissed him back with vigor.

It didn’t take long for our kiss to become so heated, he asked for entrance and I gladly let him in. Our tongues danced together in a lovely tango. Erwin’s lips were so soft, it was so, so sweet. I was busy following his lead that I failed to notice his hands snaking around my waist. In a swift motion, I was beneath him.

Mr. Smith started trailing kisses down my neck. He started sucking near my clavicle which made me shiver. His lips suddenly stopped and mister Smith sat up, removing his dress shirt. I sat up right in front of him and traced my hands through his chiseled jaw. I once again kissed his lips whilst his hands found their way onto my dress’ strap. The soft, cotton fabric slid off of my body so smoothly, leaving me bare, wearing only the lacy pair of panties that I originally bought for this type of scenario.

I slowly made mister Smith lie down and then I straddled his stomach. It’s my turn to trail kisses all over his face, neck, and torso. Upon reaching his muscular but soft pectorals, I gave his right nipple a lick and placed the other one between my thumb and index finger. I took my time ravishing in the salty taste of his body before my kisses went lower. I looked him in the eye, asking for permission. He sat up and helped me remove his pants. I gulped when I saw his cock, he’s huge…

Pushing my intimidated thoughts away, I started giving his tip little licks and sucks. I tried putting the whole thing in but I can’t really help but gag. Mister Smith guided me in enveloping him, making my head bob up and down. Not soon after, he started thrusting into me. I can feel his cock deep in my throat and tears started falling from my eyes, not that I hate what he’s doing.

Not long after, he shot his load inside my mouth which I gladly swallowed, not missing a single drop. I was still catching my breath when Erwin carried me and made his way to his desk, he pushed everything to the side causing some of his papers and quills to fall onto the ground. He placed me on his desk and hurriedly removed my panties.

He rubbed my clit for a few seconds before lining himself in between my thighs. Erwin looked me in the eyes and rubbed himself near my entrance, making me whimper by the lack of a much anticipated friction.

“Mr. Smith, please,” I pleaded with glossy eyes.

“If you insist,”

With all the force he could gather, he slammed his cock into my cunt. The stretch hurt a little but it cannot be compared to the amount of pleasure that it brought. We both released a pleasured sound, a loud moan from me and a groan from him. It feels so good, to finally have this feeling of being full, the feeling of overflowing pleasure, the feeling of him inside me.

“Ugh, ahh, Mr. Smith”, moans, grunts, and mumbles are all that I can utter as the guvnor, Erwin Smith, pounded onto me. The speed of his thrusts and the depth of his cock had me seeing stars. “You can’t shy away from calling my name now, can you?” Mr. Smith asked. I was too lost in pleasure to even answer coherently, and Mr. Smith – No – Erwin was quick to bring me back down. He suddenly slowed his pace and once again spoke, “Do you not know how to answer when someone’s talking to you?” , “I-I’m sorry, mister- ah, Erwin”.

“Are you really?” Erwin asked, still thrusting in an agonizingly slow pace.

I nodded as a response.

“Use your words, slut”

“I am, I’m sorry, Erwin. Please,” I begged for him with teary eyes.

“If you asked so nicely, why wouldn’t I?” Erwin said before picking up a faster pace.

It felt so, so good. Erwin’s thick cock made me feel so full. I was nearing my orgasm when he, once again, stopped.

“Stand up”

I obliged and Erwin spun me around, making me bend over his desk. Fuck. He once again entered me and fucked me hard. I mean, HARD. It was fast, it was deep, it was mind-blowing. I can’t help but moan louder. I’m cumming…

“Erwin- Erwin- fuck I’m close,”

Erwin mumbled a string of curses before rubbing my clit vigorously which made me cum so hard my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Loud moans escaped my lips as Erwin continued to fuck me. Not long after, he came too, shooting hot loads of cum inside me.

I fell limp on his desk and so did he. But after some time, he walked towards his office bathroom to get a towel and clean us up. It was very warm. I was so light headed. After cleaning me for a bit, Erwin carried me to his office couch where we both fell asleep. This I know, would be the very start of many more nights to come…

[borgchip]

CHARLES?!?!?@ CH A R LES I SEE CHARLES??? I I AM

WHAT THE HELL ARE U DOING HOW COULD YOU DO THIS HOW CAN U SIT HERE AND MAKE AMAZING IDEAS AND WORK AND GET AWAY WITH IT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE. /POS

Thought of an episode idea and used @borgchip‘s design for a femme EMH!

[thebluespirit83]

debunking pro-snape/anti-james arguments and putting it on the internet because clearly i hate myself. buckle up. this is gonna be a VERY long post. im ready for the amount of hate i will get; im willing to take one for the team. 

1. james forced lily into dating/marrying/etc him 

this literally never happened? because its almost as if lily is her own person who is able to stand up for herself-

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

She turned on her heel and hurried away [from james]. 

-and so she would not allow someone to walk all over her. its almost as if james (canonically) matured as a person, and she appreciated this, realised he was a good person and got feelings for him? because james’ only negative traits were that he was conceited and a show off. people are able to mature and grow from these things! james did this! he did not ‘force’ lily to go out with him!

2. james and the other marauders bullied snape

you know what, i cant even disagree with this one. you’re right - they did bully him. but lets look a little bit at the context. 

sirius and james were both upper class, naive white rich boys. they are idiots. they were both stupid smart teenagers!! they were popular! and while this does not excuse the gross bullying snape was subject to-

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him

Several people watching laughed; Snape was clearly unpopular ... Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

-it (unfortunately) makes sense with context. james and sirius also stopped bullying people, and even expressed discomfort/regret with the way they acted-

“I’m not proud of it,” said Sirius quickly.

“Of course he was a bit of an idiot!” said Sirius bracingly, “we were all idiots!

[sirius talking to remus] you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes

A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.

-when they were younger! i’d also like to point out these little lines i noticed when i was finding quotes for my argument which snape stans like to ignore:

James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other

I mean, he [snape] never lost an opportunity to curse James

there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood

wow, look at that. the hate they felt for each other was mutual! snape also jinxed james! but oh wait - james was the one who matured! snape was the one who bullied his son twenty years later because he looked like james! 

3. snape didnt abuse the kids at hogwarts 

here’s a real argument i saw when looking through some pro-snape posts: ‘snape wasn’t an abuser, because abusers don’t let their victims retaliate, but snape did let the kids talk back to him’

what. the. fuck?! 

this is the dictionary.com definition of abuse: ‘to treat in a harmful, injurious, or offensive way’ or ‘to speak insultingly, harshly, and unjustly to or about’. i’m pretty sure snape did both of these things-

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

“So,” said Snape, gripping Harry’s arm so tightly Harry’s hand was starting to feel numb.

Snape threw Harry from him with all his might.

[hermione’s teeth]  "I see no difference."

‘Idiot boy!’ snarled Snape [at neville]

-on multiple occasions. i’d also like to remind you guys that neville’s worst fear is SNAPE?! his TEACHER, a figure that is supposed to be there for emotional and educational support is his worst fear in this entire world?! above the woman who drove his parents to insanity? over failure, over his abusive grandmother, over everything? his teacher? and for the pro-snaper that used this quote-

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically.

-to claim that it was a joke, it isn’t a joke. because when snape came out of that cupboard, he was terrified. yes, it’s an embarrassing thing to have as your boggart, but the point is is that it is. he is terrified of that man. 

4. james only joined the order because his wife was a muggleborn and he ‘had to’

this is just factually incorrect. james had been sticking up for muggleborn rights since he was in school, far before he started dating or even became friends with lily: 

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

“I’d NEVER call you a - you-know-what!”

so this is literally not true!! plus, at least he did join the order, whatever his reasons where (which were canonically good). snape didnt join the order. snape was friends with someone who suffered discrimination in society, and instead of using his privilege to help her and support her, he joined a group that was set on murdering people like her. when james had a friend who underwent oppression (remus/lycanthropy) you know what he did? he illegally became an animagus. 

5. snape had to be a death eater to survive at hogwarts as he roomed with blood supremacists

this is the shittiest excuse i have ever seen in my entire life. as a poc, this comment really reminds me of the argument ‘i was raised in a racist white household! i cant control my beliefs!’

you can always control your beliefs. i understand not going on big rants about blood inequality in front of a bunch of supremacists, and i understand wanting to blend and fit in (especially because he was unpopular and needed the support the slytherin boys provided), but i will never understand then becoming an active member of the group yourself. he got the dark mark. he helped voldemort. he was a death eater, and a proud one at that! no-one forced him to join. this argument literally makes my blood boil. 

6. snape had a lot of trauma from being raised in an abusive household

okay? so did sirius. so did neville. luna was bullied at school, just like snape. harry lived in an abusive household. did any of those people bully children? did any of those people join a blood supremacist group? and dont get me wrong, im not calling any of these people perfect - they all had a lot of flaws - but none of them hurt another people to the extreme that snape did. 

7. snape saved the trio’s lives many times

this is the absolute bare minimum. ‘oh wow, he didnt let harry die!! what a king! he should be respected and praised! we should excuse all of his other actions because he didnt let people die <3′ 

8. snape is not a perfect person, he also did good that many people overlook

you’re right, snape did do some good things in his life. but unfortunately, for me and many others, doing a couple of good things doesnt excuse all of the shitty, abusive things he did too. we’re not ignoring them - we just dont think they’re good enough reasons to forgive him. 

‘but james and sirius hurt others! you ignore all the bad things they did in favour of the good!’ you do the same thing with snape, first of all. second, they did a lot of good stuff. james’ and sirius’ only crimes were being annoying. for being a bit of a dick, conceited, knew they were hot and were a bit entitled. while these things are annoying as fuck, they were also stupid teens that eventually grew out of their behaviour and became better people. not perfect! better. while snape just stayed bitter at the marauders, long after their deaths, and even took his anger out on an innocent child. 

9. people only hate snape because he was poc and queer coded

as a poc and queer person, please stop. this is a very bad excuse. being poc and queer (which im pretty sure he isnt, but anyway) doesnt excuse you from your actions. plus, a huge amount of harry potter readers are poc and lgbtq. why would they hate snape for those reasons?! 

so thats all i got for today. im not gonna go into a deep snily/jily thing because i literally cannot be bothered. anyway im done. i need to go revise, i’ve already spent long enough on this. 

[sepia-mahogany]

Prompt: hearing about xuanwus defeat, madam jin and jin zixuan come to lotus pier and overhear madam yu saying wei wuxian should have let the 'sect heirs die', lwj who's recovering also overhears, the 3 get first hand experience of jiang household situation and decide fk this and take wwx out of there, its a prompt from vrishchikawrites blog (a wonderful write!) So maybe ask permission?

From the prompt on @vrishchikawrites

Jin Zixuan could not forget the young man, the head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, who, despite his previous (petty) grievances with, had stepped up when everyone else had been frozen on the spot, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not get his blood stained image out of his mind. Which had led to this discussion.

“What? No! I forbid it.” his father responded when he asked for sending reinforcements to Jiang Sect, while he understood with Cloud Recesses burnt down, and Nie under attack, either Yunmeng Jiang or Lanling Jin were next on the table, and despite having well equipped men, with the best of weapons, his father refused to extend help. 

Refused to stand against those who sought to harm his son, ‘in situations like these, know when to step back’ he had said, and Jin Zixuan could feel shame creeping up under his skin, outnumbered and clearly at losing stakes, he hadn’t hesitated to save him, and what would that make him if he forgot the debt so clearly owed? To live the lavish life of a coward..! He could see his mother fuming from where she stood, and closed his eyes to suppress his bitter thoughts, he wanted to do something, anything to help.

And suddenly, anger melted from her face and that smile crept up her face and he felt a chill down his spine, a sense of foreboding overcame him, he could see his father tense as well. “Of course, the Jin Sect sides with them.” she spoke, venom dripping off her every word. “Nothing wrong if the Sect Leader’s wife wants the marriage renewed?” a pit formed in his stomach, he did not want to marry a woman he barely knew, but using this opportunity, they could, in a sense create a bond, stronger than of just two sworn sisters.

However, “Madam Jin meets up with her sworn sister, Madam of Jiang Sect, just as Qishan Wen begins its attacks?” the war has been declared, how would it seem if the two sect Madams, and the Sect heirs are meeting, with or without the Sect Leader? “The risks are completely unneeded, what do we gain from this?” his mother glared at his father, who pointedly ignored her, Jin Zixuan exhaled, thinking things over.

As much as he disliked the engagement, he knew she would not bring it up, unless the situation, as dire as it was, needed it, this bond could provide future aid to one another should the need arise, so Jin Zixuan kept his disagreements to himself, because he knew she wouldn’t force him, not with the concerns of a  cold loveless marriage like his parents, he knew she was using it as a cover to aid her sworn sister.

An opportunity, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then remembered how the Second Jade, Lan Wangji had stood shoulder to shoulder with him,  and Wei Wuxian, Head Disciple, had stepped up to save them. 

Jin Zixuan exhaled, and made a decision, muttering out a half-hearted excuse, he left them on their own, and later into the night, he approached his mother.

--------

The boat landed steadily, unnoticed in the middle of the night, his mother had won the final say in the matter, of course with the reluctant agreement of remaining disguised as just another trade ship, the serene view would have been calming, had his nerves not have been high strung from adrenaline, small sacrifices, he could of course find a way to break off the engagement in a future of more peaceful times.

Jin Zixuan climbed out the boat first, followed calmly by his mother, the disguises were near perfect, for the disciples around the brightly lit place to look curious, but not alarmed. One, he recognised seeing a few times at Cloud Recesses, came near them with a nervous smile. “We offer you our sincerest apologies but...we’d appreciate it if travellers could avoid an audience with the Sect Leader?” 

The disguises were perfect then, for they had been mistaken as travellers that would go to and fro from Yunmeng Jiang Sect, his mother sniffed and looked at the disciple sternly “We are not here for the Sect Leader, but the Violet Spider, we have an important message for them.” Jin Zixuan had noticed before but now it had become more apparent as the disciples shifted around, something was off, it dampened his enthusiasm and the rush he had felt earlier, instead concern filled him, had something happened to Wei Wuxian?

His mother held out a token, the disciple’s eyes widened and he bowed in respect, “I assume this would be enough?” Madam Jin said curtly, and the disciple nodded, though tensely. “This one will escort you to the guest chambers” 

The curious gazes had not been moved, as they moved inside, step by step, down the corridor they went, as the muffled voices became more distinguishable, all 3 of them froze when they heard, unmistakably the Jiang Sect Heir’s voice. “-You shouldn’t have played the hero and you shouldn’t have cared for such a hell of a thing. If in the beginning you hadn’t….” 

Jin Zixuan felt a cold pit forming in his stomach, surely he must be mistaken, but seeing the expression twisting  on his mothers face, he could assume he was not, in fact, misunderstanding what Jiang Wanyin was implying. 

The disciple bowed quickly, slightly panicked “If you’d follow me-” Madam Jin pointed at him and he immediately shut up, head bowed, just as the Jiang Sect Leader reprimanded “Jiang Cheng.” Silence followed. “Do you know in which ways what you just have said is not appropriate?” was followed by a glum “Yes.”

Even if slightly, Jin Zixuan relaxed, his mother’s expression lightening into a frown, ‘at least someone is self-aware’ Madam Jin thought. “He’s just angry and speaking without care” another voice added, Jin Zixuan perked up, Wei Wuxian! So he was alright, he felt relieved. Madam Jin continued to frown, Wei Wuxian was clearly trying to lessen the pressure off of the Jiang heir. 

Another harsh voice cut through them all “Yes, he doesn’t understand but what does it matter, as long as Wei Ying understands!?” rang out her voice, Madam Jin’s lips pursed into a line, of what her son had just said, that was what she was focusing on?

 “‘To attempt at the impossible’ is exactly how he is, isn’t it? Fooling around even though he knew it’d bring trouble to his sect!?” Jin Zixuan sneaked a look at his mother to see her eyes cold, her fist clenched tightly, he was aware they shouldn’t be hearing this, but this? It wasn’t what they expected at all, he was frozen in place, what in the world was he hearing?

Madam Jin’s thoughts matched her appearance, for once she felt less than charitable towards Yu Ziyuan, and more and more like a fool, here she was, risking her and her son’s safety, her sects safety, for a woman who couldn't care less about her son’s life, but was also wilfully blinding herself to the war right on the horizon, ‘No’ she thought to herself, ‘it was I who was truly blind’

And it was the boy she heard being called ‘Fengmian’s bastard’ or ‘son of a servant’ who had saved her son's life instead, she bit back the bitter chuckle that threatened to escape her, truly, what a fool she was, to be caught in the violet spiders web.

She looked at her son, whose face clouded over the more he heard, she grabbed his arm tightly, if nothing else then to prevent him from barging inside, with Jiang Fengmian’s favor, she was sure that they didn’t need to interfere, until, “My lady, what are you doing here?” she held back her disbelief, her son on the other hand, inhaled sharply.

This was what he was focusing on? Not the insults to his bas- to his ward? To his sect’s entire foundation? It would seem she was truly mistaken, in her and Yu Ziyuan sharing their miseries, entirely wrong about her character, and who was still throwing around callous words for the sake of it, for what else? If not her own cruelty?

"What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I'm also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? Do you still remember, between the one lying there and the one standing there, which one is your son?" Disbelief and disgust couldn’t even begin to describe what Madam Jin was feeling, the Sect Leader’s response,  however, “I do remember.” Enhanced those to the heights she didn't even know she was capable of feeling.

And so stood the enraged Madam of Jin Sect, the horrified Jin heir and one ashamed disciple whose head could bow no lower, but that was nothing compared to what was said next “You do remember, but there's no use if you simply remember. Wei Ying, he really can't take it unless he stirs up some trouble, can he? If I had known, I would've made him stay in Lotus Pier properly and not go outside. Could Wen Chao really have dared to do anything to the two young masters of the GusuLan Sect and Lanling Jin Sect? Even if he did, it'd mean that they ran out of luck. Since when was it your turn to play the hero?"

Blood roared in Madam Jin’s ears, her nails digging into her palm, she wanted to bite Yu Ziyuan’s head off there and then. ‘Of all the idiotic, foolish, horrid, things she could utter-’ in her cursing, she only realised she had put too much force in her rage filled haze when her son hissed in pain, she immediately let go of his arm, and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking calming breaths.

She was afraid she would do something terrible and irrevocable if she stayed there any longer, listening to a pathetic mockery of- she exhaled and pushed Jin Zixuan towards the open doors. “B-but mother-” he looked back but she gave him that look and he quietened “Later a-Xuan.” while moving outwards, the disciple trailing behind them, they could easily catch some of the words the woman threw at Wei Wuxian.

Madam Jin gritted her teeth in anger, and left without looking back, once she and her son were seated in the boat. “A-Xuan” she began, lightly ruffling his hair “Your marriage is up to you to decide, I will have no say in the matter from here onwards” Her son was not going to be married into that cursed Sect no matter what if she could help it, she moved forward to pull him into a hug, “Mother was wrong.”

 “But mother what about..?” She heard him say, she pulled back and rest one hand on his shoulder, the other caressing his cheek, her son, who by the Jiang’s standards, should’ve been killed, and her blood boiled in her veins. “We came here to make a bond and talk if it were possible, since that wasn’t possible, it can be done some other day.” She lightly patted him, and seeing his thoughts drift off, thought to herself darkly ‘and if the Jiangs are attacked, well, they ran out of luck then.’

Her son hesitantly nodded, “Wei Wuxian...I owe him, for saving me then, if not for him.....” She sniffed, as if indicating what was obvious “Of course,” When the news spread later that Lotus Pier was attacked, with Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian on the run, she hoped for Wei Wuxian’s survival, more so than the Jiang Sect Heir.

And if, perhaps, after a few years her son proposed sworn brotherhood with that Wei Wuxian, well, it wasn’t without her approval.

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

authors notes i guess?

Okay so writing Madam Yu’s lines legit left me disgusted like wtf was she even saying?? Also like I tried to write Madam Jin similar but a bit less than Madam Yu (ya know madam jin never whipped kids with her spiritual weapons, if she had any, not to our knowledge at least...right?) but ended up venturing straight into slightly dark madam jin heh, also like no engagement, no jin-wei tense relationship, (there’ll be 1-2 parts more probably) also wwx woke up earlier in this one, this’ll serve as catalyst for later years. 

[vampiremourning]

hurt my own feelings with a katnines human(ish?) au

this is super loose and not at all fleshed out but just stay with me here--

instead of staying in new york, for whatever reason they keep going and eventually settle in LA. obviously not doing super great as european immigrants but yknow, they have each other, her dad gets a job probably near the docks because thats what he was more or less doing back home & things stabilize, his girls at least seem happier than they were? kat is fucking On It making sure her sisters are set and taken care of and also does what she can to bring some cash into the household, and she wouldn't say her own state of mind is necessarily happy, she just wants to make sure her family is okay.

something something time passes im doing this at like 2 in the morning its fine, & they eventually cross paths, probably while she's taking something to her dad that he forgot at home. they sort of? click right away? but he assumes that she's there for her own finncee/husband/whatever & he kind just lets it go, waves at her the next time she's in the area but doesn't get hopes up until he actually Sees her father and it's like. ah. okay. this also makes sense.

she's had a handful of short lived boyfriends but they've historically all been just a Bit better off than she has (she's still practical) & otherwise just not a good match. like she didn't even bother bringing them home, just vetted them after a few bad dates. this guy is different though. circumstantially neither of them are doing them best, but god. he also just treats her so unbelievably well. he looks forward to seeing her, remembers the stuff she says, doesn't act like she's an idiot & doesn't get uncomfortable if she lets her accent slip a bit. she's happy.

you know who else is happy?? her goddamned dad.

he knows she's been on dates before and also knows that they must have been assholes if she never even brought them home but THIS ONE she does and she is visibly nervous! she is never nervous in front of them Ever, that's like. the one time she's comfortable. and yet. she wants her family to like him! so fucking much dear god, she's never been this sure of anyone in her life ever & if push comes to shove she'll pursue the relationship if their response is a bad one but she also loves her family a lot & it's important that she get to keep them.

her sisters are a bit of a mix but no one is negative but most importantly her dad is like. Yes this is a Good Choice bc they might not be getting married with a ton of cash but he recognizes actual love & connection when he sees it and knows that kat has somehow managed to find someone who Will take care of her even though she's the type to insist on stretching herself thin. & so when marriage comes up he's like. mr rodriguez i will not grant you my approval because you don't Need it, i know damn well the type of woman my daughter is and if you weren't up to standard you wouldn't be here, but i will gladly welcome you into the family. it's a beautiful wedding if Small but most blood relations are present (outdoors! the sun is out the breeze is Perfect she wears a dress that her sister irida made & there is so much crying oh my god). it's so picturesque they get to be just gfghjj happy and uncomplicated. and alive.

she doesn't even have to stress abt impressing his mother either like she's fucking On It with her social perception & they end up chatting like they've known each other for yearsssssss within like 10 minutes of meeting gfhjh she is Slightly disappointed that her new daughter in law doesn't know more than like 8 words of spanish but that's a temporary affliction, kat would dedicate herself to learning it the moment she gets a whiff of said disappointment.

they get to have a little house somewhere,, she could actually pursue the shelved future of becoming a teacher,, god. the possibilities.

(now ofc this can take a turn where they end up tragically embraced and separated for years anyway but fdgfhgjhdhfjfg shhH theyre happy.)

[shih-coulda-had-it]

193 for... maybe nanahiko? Really just do whatever ship you feel like :D

193. "Are you crazy? The kid is upstairs!" | VestigesTorino [Yes. OT8. The orgies are fantastic, and Torino is Holder bait, 8th and 9th exempt.] | WC: 2,222 of an OFA!VampireCoven!AU except op has taken liberties with worldbuilding.

TW: Blood-drinking. Outrageous flirting. Mildly spicy!

//

“Vampires,” Sorahiko echoes blankly.

He looks from left to right, trying to spot the differences between himself and the six adult men and one adult woman sitting at this round table. Most atypical appearances can be attributed to the strange and wondrous natures of Quirks, so Sorahiko could excuse the fourteen red eyes (every iris the identical shade) as a matter of Quirk heritage. However, none of the Shigarakis resemble the other.

They still might be pulling his leg.

The leader of the household (presumably) leans his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. “Torino-san,” he says in a gentle voice, “we greatly appreciate your timely rescue of our youngest. And believe me when I say I would have preferred you stay ignorant of my coven’s true nature.”

“But the boy wants to be a professional hero,” one of the men interrupts. His arms are crossed, and his hair sticks up in rakish angles. An X-shaped scar has been carved over the bridge of his nose, just missing the eyes.

He sounds dismissive of the kid’s dream.

Fair. When Sorahiko had stepped onto the moonlit scene, the kid was frantically scrabbling at a thick-skinned villain’s hand, trying to save his bag from being rummaged. The villain had planted a knee in the kid’s stomach in an attempt to menace him into silence.

Sorahiko pounced on the villain, called in the location to pick up the too-heavy bastard, and escorted the boy home. He fielded questions about heroics and U.A. High for half an hour before they finally reached the Shigaraki compound.

And now he is here, trapped in a gigantic dining room, being told about vampires.

“We agreed to let him try,” says the singular woman sharply.

“If you three hadn’t filled his head about saving the world,” a man with a spiky ponytail shoots back, “then we wouldn’t have this problem. And you too, Yoichi.”

“Nevertheless,” the leader says. His red eyes gleam in the low light, and Sorahiko feels his skin prickling at the attention.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Ah, who hasn’t heard of the toughest teacher of U.A.?” another man asks, sly and teasing. His voice is soft like the leader’s, but perceptibly younger. His coloring is similar to the woman’s, but he’s lean where she’s muscular. “Yoichi believes we should give you a head’s up. Toshinori is a good child, but even he will slip from time to time, and that will draw undue attention to himself.”

Sorahiko considers these seven faces. Slowly, he says, “You think he’ll be accepted into U.A.”

“Three of us are active pro-heroes, and we’ve been training him when we can,” the woman informs him. “I’d say he’s got a headstart compared to all of your first years.”

“My students have always been terrible. That’s what schooling is for.”

She flashes a smile at him, toothy and amused; his throat works through a sudden dry spell. Belatedly, Sorahiko realizes that every adult in this kitchen is eyeing him with intense interest. Even the ones that haven’t spoken yet.

Yoichi speaks again. “He’s smart, and he’ll be strong. U.A. will accept him. I ask you for your discretion and help, Gran Torino.”

He could refuse, but Sorahiko assumes they’ll simply kill him. Being blackmailed is a low possibility; Sorahiko doesn’t have much to be blackmailed about. And pro-heroes disappear all the time. No one really knows why. Principal Shi might demand an investigation on Gran Torino’s behalf (and possibly at the behest of Recovery Girl, who grudgingly acknowledges Torino’s efforts to raise the survival rate of U.A.’s graduates), but otherwise…

Still. Vampires. Another subset of humanity, among the Quirked and Quirkless. It’s weird enough to be true.

“Is this a verbal agreement?” Sorahiko asks.

A bark of laughter from the square-jawed man in the leather jacket, who leans forward and grins like a shark at Sorahiko. The light glints off the yellow lenses of his goggles, and the play of light and shadow highlights the muscle definition of the man’s shirtless chest. In a rich, low voice, he says, “We’ve got something better. A contract.”

“Using what?” Sorahiko bites back. “Paper and ink?”

“Skin and teeth, teach’.”

“Daigoro’s correct,” says Yoichi mildly, snatching Sorahiko’s attention away. “Torino-san, allow me to introduce my coven. I am Shigaraki Yoichi, second of my line. In the order of which my coven grew: Kenzo, Sanjuro, Hikage, Daigoro, En, Nana, and you’ve met our Toshinori.” As he speaks, he points to each person in turn.

He wonders when the kid got folded into this group. The kid’s affection for his home had been sincere, and he greeted the adults (well, Hikage had only come out of the forested grounds at Daigoro’s call) with merry cheer.

Is Toshinori even a vampire? U.A. conducts its business in the daytime.

Sorahiko nods in acknowledgement and doesn’t offer his full name in return. Instead, he says, “If I accept this contract, will you tell me whatever I want to know? About anything I ask?”

“Even vampires aren’t omniscient,” Yoichi answers.

Rolling his eyes, Sorahiko clarifies, “If the kid’s going to develop vampirism over the course of high school, then I need to know things. Like whether or not he’ll go feral over spilled blood. Or if sunlight’s going to be an issue.”

Yoichi’s smile is kind, and surprisingly not patronizing. “What we can tell, we will. The contract will have a mutual hold on us all.”

“What could break it?”

“A different coven, not that you should seek one out,” says Nana. “Trust us, we’re as nice as you get in the supernatural world.”

Sorahiko does not have many options. He hates the idea of agreeing to this without a safety net or a contingency plan. How can this woman ask him to trust them immediately? He’d have to be a gullible idiot, or a fool in lust, or...

He exhales. Sighing in resignation, Sorahiko tips his head to Yoichi and says, wry, “I accept the contract. Don’t kill me if your kid comes crying home about how mean I am.”

Yoichi shrugs, casual as anything. “Toshinori’s quite brave for his age, and stubborn, too. You’ll have your hands full training him.” He then stands from his chair; in measured, unhesitating steps, Yoichi approaches where Sorahiko sits at the opposite side of the round table. What he orders, Sorahiko complies with. “Take your cape off, Torino-san. Your gloves as well.”

“You may have to unzip the top half of your suit,” advises Hikage. “You won’t want the signatures to overlap.”

“Signatures,” Sorahiko repeats, pausing.

One glove’s already off. The flight suit’s sleeves extend up to his wrists, and they don’t have a lot of give. Similarly, the collar is skin-tight and provides ample coverage.

Daigoro playfully snaps his teeth at Sorahiko, once, twice. He says, “Paper and ink, skin and teeth. You forget already?”

The man barely flinches at the snarl directed his way. Seven pairs of eyes are honing in on the exposed flesh; Sorahiko shoves his self-conscious thoughts away. He focuses on the sheer outrage of being asked to strip by strangers, hissing, “Are you crazy? The kid is upstairs!”

“I’ll make sure he stays in his room,” Nana volunteers. She winks at Sorahiko. “We’ll be quick, Torino-san. You just have to keep quiet.”

“You—!”

She slips from her chair and darts off, exiting the dining room and ascending the stairs, floating off the floor. Sorahiko glares after her but snaps to attention as Yoichi stops by his chair, hip resting against the table, red eyes expectant.

Grudgingly, Sorahiko works off the second glove. As he does, Yoichi continues to lecture.

“The signatures can be made in two ways. A lighter bite will result in less pain, but will fade sooner. And I’d like for this arrangement to stand for several years, Torino-san. A lighter bite necessitates more renewals. Possibly, seven bites every two weeks.”

“And a stronger bite?”

“Seven every month.”

He scowls at the thought. The only silver lining he can see is that his suit will cover the marks, which will save him from his colleagues’ gossiping tongues. “Monthly, then. Are you drinking my blood? I don’t think I’ve got enough to cover seven appetites.”

Yoichi offers him a gentle smile. “A mouthful will suffice.”

Sorahiko works his jaw, and then he reaches backwards for the hidden zipper. It’s incongruously loud in the dining room; Sorahiko feels his face burning as he hurriedly rips his arms free of the sausage casing sleeves, letting the slackening front of the suit crumple to his lap. He hears an appreciative whistle.

“Daigoro, he can give you a run for your money,” Sanjuro jokes.

“He’s softer,��� Daigoro deems, and Sorahiko bristles. “Must be the suit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he snaps. “And proper hydration, asshole.”

“I’m not complaining!”

“At ease,” says Yoichi, calm, and that’s when Nana makes her reappearance. She swings back into the dining room, expression confident and content, until she spies Sorahiko’s half-naked appearance.

“Are we going in order?” she questions Yoichi, even as her eyes are trained on Sorahiko’s.

“That’s how it works, Nana,” Kenzo answers for their leader. “How’s Toshinori?”

“Watching his martial arts dramas. We’re good for like, fifty minutes.”

“You said you’ll be quick,” Sorahiko rasps, and his hands are clenching into fists, anticipatory and anxious. This is all so incredibly weird. “You all need more than five minutes to bite me?”

Yoichi laughs. It’s a bright sound, attractive and human and not at all like something that should be coming out of a self-proclaimed bloodsucker. When Yoichi moves, pushing off the table, Sorahiko nervelessly allows himself to be pinned to the back of his chair. One hand cards through his hair and lightly tugs; the other hand settles at his shoulder and presses it down.

His throat is exposed. Though Yoichi bends close, Sorahiko knows it isn’t the jugular he’s aiming for.

“Torino-san will need a moment to recuperate,” Yoichi whispers, and Sorahiko shivers, swallows past the apprehension, and spends half a second regretting his decision to let this happen. Yoichi adds, “We will not harm you, and you will not harm us. Your help, in exchange for ours. Let it be so.”

Teeth sink into the join of Sorahiko’s neck and shoulder, sharp and surprisingly hot. Sorahiko chokes out a garbled sound and jerks in his seat, until Yoichi’s bite goes deeper, deeper, and then Sorahiko gasps. Adrenaline bursts to life in his system; his Quirk sputters a reflexive Jet through his boots, but Yoichi’s slender frame hides an unseen strength.

He holds Sorahiko down.

He draws blood from the wound. Sorahiko barely feels the drain, fixated he is on the pressure exerted against him. Every single one of them is going to have the capacity to do this. If Yoichi, whose frame is most similar to En’s, can keep Sorahiko from bolting—Sorahiko arches his back, an involuntary moan escaping him.

It feels good. It feels really, really good.

Yoichi hums against his skin, pleased as punch, and his teeth retract. Sorahiko feels the tongue lap over the mark, heavy with spit. As Yoichi rears back, Yoichi rolls his neck lazily, licking his lips like a cat full from its meal.

“The saliva is a coagulant,” he explains idly, watching Sorahiko slump back against the chair, lungs still stuttering. A faint sweat has broken across his forehead, and Sorahiko distantly suspects that he’s going to need all the time he can get before the kid grows bored of his dramas.

“Oh, he already looks wrecked,” En observes. His awed tone elicits a laugh and encouraging clap to his shoulder from Daigoro, the latter of which requires En to brace against.

“You think he’ll last seven bites?”

“To be fair,” Hikage says, “that is a common erogenous zone. We’ll focus on less stimulating areas.”

Sorahiko, somewhat nettled at the implication that he won’t last (and what the hell does that mean? That he’ll back out? Start begging for mercy?) all seven signatures, musters his strength and shoves himself upright. He scoffs exaggeratedly, masking a shaky exhale with it. He challenges the coven, “Do your fucking worst.”

Yoichi blinks. Behind him, Kenzo is leaving his seat and stalking towards Sorahiko’s, red eyes gleaming. Before Kenzo can dive at Sorahiko and probably tear an artery out, Yoichi holds him back with one placating hand.

“Do not,” Yoichi warns. “We’re not trying to induce a thrall, do you all hear me?”

“Yoichi,” says Sanjuro, “if the man gets off, he gets off.”

A sigh leaves Yoichi. “Be that as it may. Please try not to leave him resentful for the months ahead.” He pats Kenzo’s collarbone; Kenzo catches the thin-boned hand and raises it to his lips.

“Understood, Yoichi,” Kenzo murmurs into the knuckles. He lets go, and Yoichi moves aside, now more fond than exasperated. A safety net, maybe.

In any case, Sorahiko gazes up at number two, who studies him back.

“The shoulder?” suggests Sorahiko, half-heartedly offering the right one up to sacrifice.

Kenzo inclines his head. “Just above the bicep will work,” and he goes on to prove his point, keeping Sorahiko locked in position, unable to do anything but wriggle and fail to contain strangled moans.

This is going to be a long hour.

[btssavedmylifeblr]

I forgot to send on my voting story. Ok so my brother and I both got mail in ballots, and let me tell you how we both forgot to mail it in so we just thought to bring them to our voting location. The lady there kinda yelled at us? She was confused and didn't know how to go about it. And honestly I just took it because we were the idiots who didn't mail in our ballots. We had to rip them up and they just us new ones to fill out in person and submit. Not exciting, but a story for void snippet. 👀

Anonymous said: Hi!! I'm so excited for void! I voted today around 30 minutes before the polls closed in my neighborhood because I had to wait for my dad and brother to get home from work since they wanted to go all together hehe. It was a pretty fast process! We just pressed buttons on screens (compared to last election where we had to bubble in everything by hand) plus, I got to keep the stylus that they gave us and it works on phones too! 🥰🥰 Thank you! I love your writing so much 💜💜💜

Anonymous said: I did mine through mail me and my husband did and we went to the post office a little while back and then he took us on a nice little date afterward and we got ice cream! Also I love void💖 keep up the good work

Anonymous said: VOTES FOR VOID??? I love democracy and I love VOID! So since May I've (temporarily) moved back home from New York to Indiana RE: covid; I've voted absentee for the both the primaries and presidential election (I'm still in IN rn...blah). I voted early and mailed in my ballot for the presidential election (about 3 weeks ago). Made sure my family was voting (brother mailed it in, mom dropped off a ballot, and dad did early voting) and encourage them to put up a Biden sign in our yard <3

Anonymous said: HI BEE! I ALSO VOTED TODAY! IM 21 SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME VOTING FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (my 18th bday didnt make the cutoff since im a december bday) im so happy to have done my part! I made sure to study up on the judges and policies and everything! Luckily the polling place didn't have a line so i was able to get in, get my ballot, and fill it in right away! I even dragged my mom and cousin to come with me. I made a joke on snapchat to encourage my friends to vote too. It was a pic of my "i voted" sticker with a caption saying "omg youre so sexy when you vote aHaha" -🦙

Anonymous said: this is my first time doing this so, so i hope i’m sending this correctly! i voted early in late september by mail! i live in a swing state, so it’s really important for me to vote and not waste time!! bc of my age, this is my first time voting so i’m really nervous 😅

Anonymous said: I voted by email! I'm overseas so I wasn't sure if my ballot would actually make it through in time, so I decided to go electronically. Had to sign a waiver saying I understand that my vote won't be anonymous but I haven't been given a reason to suspect voter suppression/fraud in my state, so I'm happy I think...!

Anonymous said: hi, i voted early on oct 24th. my absentee ballot didn't come in, so i had to travel back home to vote (~3 hour drive). when we got there, there was a ton of people outside the polling place, but no lines, so i was in and out pretty quick. it was my first time voting, so i had all the candidates i was voting for written down on a tiny receipt so i wouldn't forget 😅. my mom was with me, so she voted too. took a pic with my sticker (mask on for extra covid-ness) and went home. drove back the next afternoon!

whippedforkook said: Hi Bee. 💕 I voted in early October - nearly a month ago! 😱 It’s been really weird with all the lead up to the election because it felt like it should have been done once I cast my ballot! A lot of my friends have volunteered to get out the vote: writing postcards to voters, texting, phone banking, working the polls, curing ballots. I didn’t volunteer at all this year, but I hope that all of my friends’ hard work and everyone else’s is enough. I’m also hoping and praying that I will be in a better place mentally for 2022 so that I too can volunteer. Our work starts with 2020 not ends. 💕 Wishing you well. 💕

begineuphoria said: I went and voted last Friday as it was our last early voting day. No way was I going to wait until today with the crowds of people in my area that still act as if masks are somehow infringing on their rights. 🙄 It was a rather normal experience for the most part. Other than having to use a coffee stir stick to press the buttons on the machine to vote. In and out within five minutes.

Anonymous said: I voted down the street at this pretty park this morning. I got up at 5:30 and it was freezing. Luckily I wore like 30 layers and stood outside for 2 hours. Some nasty orange man supporters were rude but everyone else was pretty nice. A really cute older couple was playing soccer with pine cones and kicked it towards me to play too. Not the worst time tbh.

Anonymous said: Did mail-in voting in California! Extremely exhausting and took forever to research all the propositions - they are notoriously tricky in hiding their flaws and one side tends to outrageously outspend the other. But in the end I felt really good about my research and decisions! No need for you to post a snippet for this story - would like to save that to read sometime in the future ;) Thank you so much for doing this!

joonsgotthejuice said: Votes for void??? I am here! I went last Thursday and it was chaotic bc I kept going past the poll place but the line was soooo long so my mom called me and woke me up like "its pouring rain and the line is super short get up I'm gonna pick you up" so thats the story of how I got dressed in 5 minutes and dragged my ass to vote in the rain <3

Anonymous said: i voted early on thursday it was cold and rainy but i went in the late afternoon and thankfully the only waiting i did was a few minutes for an elevator i got very lucky and while waiting for the results is awful the relief that came from voting in general was just great

Anonymous said: Wheeew the polls just closed and I finally got to cast my ballot yayyy ( I was the one working the polls from earlier) it’s been a really really long day and we actually had surprisingly good turnout. I saw a woman try to vote for someone else who claimed to be “helping” and I saw a woman who I’m pretty sure was on some typa something 👀 Overall though I really I’m really thankful for people like you who encouraged people to get out and vote. I hope the odds are in our favor❤️🤞🏼

chelsea-chee said: Hello Bee! Today surprisingly my elderly father wanted to vote so I brought him out with me. He only cared about voting for Biden, which meant I got to help decide who he should vote for with the rest of the candidates and amendments! Say hello to baby bee for me as well! 💖

Anonymous said: Okay I gonna got a chance to vote today and the process wasn’t that bad actually. I went in just now and it wasn’t that busy( thankfully) so no lines. I’m from Texas and it’s gonna be almost impossible to turn this state blue, but every vote counts! I love that you are getting people to vote and also sharing your experiences as well!

owl-orgy said: Dropped off my mail in ballot at a polling location! I originally wanted to vote early in person because I was worried my signature wouldn’t match closely enough but ended up just turning it in and double checked today to make it said “ballot accepted and counted”!

Anonymous said: I voted in person this afternoon, better late than never I guess. I was gonna go last week but then I got cramps from hell. There was no one in line in front of me, I think my county early voted because it was packed everyday the last few weeks

Anonymous said: I voted early a couple weeks ago. Exciting thing though that did happen was I got both my parents to vote for their first time ever.

Anonymous said: I had a mail in vote. So, I filled it out and dropped it in at the ballot box at my library. (I also checked out books for the first time in years, so I had fun!)

bubblyjiminnie said: I literally just finished voting. Lucky for me, the line and wait wasn’t very long, and it was a nice enough day that the short amount of time I had to spend in line outside of the building wasn’t too bad. My social anxiety when it comes to stuff like this tends to be high but that’s what I get for waiting until Election Day instead of going the mail in route. This was only my second time voting, but I’m glad that I did 😊

Anonymous said: I turned my ballot in last week :) I’m not a big fan of crowds and I hate make spur of the moment choices but despite that the first time I was able to vote back in 08 my Mom pressured me into voting in person because “you’d have to experience it at least once in our life”. And ever since then I comfortably vote by mail. I take my time, do all of my research, listen to music, and best of all don’t have to deal with people.

Anonymous said: here in Washington state it’s super easy to vote. I dropped my ballot off in mid-October and it’s already been accounted for! Mail in voting and drop box voting is fantastic and provides equal opportunity and access. Sad to see some people in red states misinforming Americans about it! We also have a referendum for implementing mandatory sex ed, including teaching respect, empathy and consent as part of the curriculum so I was happy to vote yes on that too!

unionrox006 said: I voted about 2 weeks ago by doing a mail in ballot. The other eligible to vote members of my household did the same. We chose to vote by absentee ballot because both my mom and I have an autoimmune disorder, so we have to be careful going out in the pandemic. Tbh, the ballot layout was a bit confusing at first as was all the paperwork and required IDs and documents. But my dad explained it to me and we got them filled out and mailed off. Kinda mad I didn't get a sticker for it though

bluetostone said: Love this and so excited for the next chp of void! I early voted a few weeks ago and because I live in a pretty rural county I was in and out of my polling place in a few minutes. No sticker though 😢. I live in a swing state so it could go either way in terms of delegates. Just praying everyone is safe tonight as the results roll in...though, won't we not know for sure for a couple of days or weeks?

Anonymous said: My mom, sister, and I received our early voting ballots a while ago and I took the longest to fill mine out because it was making me anxious :,( but I did return it before it was due. I checked our ballot statuses and mine and my moms were accepted but my sister’s said they hadn’t received hers back. Then she got another ballot so she filled that one out too and I took it yesterday 👍👍 I think she got two because she changed her address late so they sent two?

vixsynsblog said: Non-interesting voter story: I'm paranoid and live in a highly divided area, so I filed mail-in ASAP, mailed it a few days after cause neighbors are nosy and don't understand boundaries. Was able to track my ballot through my credit company, which was nice. Only thing I was missing was my sticker. Never got one✊😔. So I had to improvise and write it in pen on my disposable mask. I'm working all this week so if riots break out from either side, I'll be at work. Prayers for the safety of others🙏

______

Waaah!!! Thank you all for voting!! You are all my heroes. I am so grateful and proud of you. I’m sorry I ran out of time to respond to you individually. I’m going to drop two big scenes from Chapter 7 in gratitude (one of which will be familiar to my patrons and one won’t). I’m hopeful I will have the whole next chapter out very soon. Love you all!

Void spoilers below the cut.

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think they were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps just by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal. 

There is a calendar reminder waiting for you: Today is chili pepper pollinating day. At least this gives you an excuse to talk to Hoseok. 

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee up against his chest. Hoseok doesn’t look well. He’s got dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…“You don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed. “Um, was I? Yeah.. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor. 

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t. “I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit to rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.” 

You should disgaree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him. 

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if they didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Your chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it. 

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The intital set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant in the line.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than just enjoying the chili peppers, you must admit that this was one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands peridically. Always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Um, yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off my Hoseok’s derisive snort. 

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, just go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.” 

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.” 

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone of us ever treating you that way. And now you just want all of us to… to… use you like that?”  He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan! I’m in charge!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.”

______

Taehyung finds you in the gym. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling. 

“Hey, so I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.” He fishes awkwardly into his pockets and pulls out his tablet.  Maybe Jimin was right. Is Taehyung going to be the first to take you up on your offer?

You pause your jog on the elliptical machine. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man with those strong eyebrows and that perfect skin. 

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower. 

Taehyung has really nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigating the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It just adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest. 

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing that Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he just going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know its a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now. 

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.” 

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

That surprises Taehyung. He puts down the tablet. “What? Why would he want that?”

This is awkward. “He, um, thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is just as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us…”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

If Taehyung isn’t jealous of Jimin... 

“Taehyung…” He looks up, biting his lip. “What did you mean? Who are you jealous of?” 

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he reaches for his microphone and mutes it. Out of respect, you mute yours as well. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit. 

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter.  But he’s already stripping out of his shirt. The musculature of his back ripples. He hangs the shirt off of the camera to block the rest of the room from view. 

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” His chest is just as attractive as his back and you flush at the sight of it. Mercifully, he zips back into his jumpsuit as he returns to his position in front of the exercise machine. 

“You want them to think we’re having sex?”

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole save the mission with bonobo sex plan.”

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

“You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve just ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.”  There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years. 

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile. 

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us really knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” 

Your mind flashes back to that moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

“But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really do love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels like that about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.”  You wonder if maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings. 

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…” 

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”  

Taehyung bites his lip. He can’t really argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “He wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You know you could have that with any man on this ship right?”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

The two of you both slump backwards in your seats, mulling over your shared woes.  Taehyung bends down and picks up the tablet again. “So what should I do with this?”

“Obivously, you don’t have to sign it. I should have realized that not everyone would be interested.”

“Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Is it okay if we let him think that for now? At least until I figure out how to tell him the truth?”

“Okay.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. Your phone lights up with a message. “Thank you,” he murmurs before he leaves. 

[deans-baby-momma]

Past Haunts- A Revisit

A/N: Let’s take a look inside the Winchester/Quentin household and see how everyone is getting along. Also look for the 2nd author’s note after this story. 

It's been six months today. Six months since my daughter and I were getting ready for work and school when a simple knock on the front door changed everything. Changed it all, for the better.

To be able to watch from the sidelines as Whitney got to finally know the man who was her father; to finally experience having a male figure in her life was indescribable. 

Those two were like two peas in a pod, though. Similar likes, the same dislikes, an identical warped sense of humor. Once Dean had gotten over- no, that isn't the right wording-since Dean had come to terms with Sam being locked in a cage in Hell, he had jumped right into being a parent, a daddy. And he was killing it!

I hadn't expected to find him in the kitchen every morning, cooking breakfast for us before sending us both off with a kiss and I definitely never dreamed of coming home to a clean house, mowed lawn and that pesky back porch light repaired but during the first whole week of loving with us,  Dean had picked up the slack. I was amazed and very grateful.

Dean and I have slept in the same bed every night since his return but have yet to put a label on what we are. Although, Whitney happily tells anyone and everyone that her parents are together, I'm just unsure. And yes, we've had sex but then again what woman in her right mind could look at him, cuddle up to him and NOT want to have sex with him?

He had gotten a job at a local garage after the first month of being 'home' and had quickly impressed the boss with his knowledge of older vehicles. It seemed as though the mechanics nowadays depended on the little computers installed in the newer models to alert them to whatever was wrong, so when older vehicles came across their rack, these young boys were stumped.

During the week after Thanksgiving, the city of Fairfax Indiana got its first snowfall. Everything looked so clean and fresh with the white blanket covering all the blemishes and eyesores around town. And that's the day we found out Dean Winchester doesn't like the cold.

"It's just-" Dean grumbled as he drank his coffee at the head of the table. "-so ridiculous. You have to wear extra layers, watch out for other idiots on the road. Watch where you step. And it's just so cold." He finishes his groaning with a full body shiver.

"Dad you sound like a whiny brat," Whitney banters as she eats her eggs and bacon. "It's wonderful! Everything looks so bright and shiny."

"I need sun and warmth, missy," Dean shoots back with a wink. He suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. "Babe, how many days of school until our little girl is on holiday?"

Whitney hmphs at being called a little girl, even though she knows Dean only does it to get a rise out of her. The smirk on his face tells me that is exactly the response he expected.

"Uh, nine. I think."

"Eight and a half," Whitney corrects me, standing up to take her plate to the sink. "And the half day is going to be mostly watching movies and not much else."

I look at Dean to see his mind whirling. I could tell he was trying to work something out in his head. I raise an eyebrow in question but only get a smile in response. I shake my head at his antics and stand up to go finish getting ready for work.

Christmas in Florida is distinctly opposite of Christmas in the North. For one, there is no snow for the lights to mirror. The lights are pretty but seem so dull without the reflection. And instead of coats and gloves and hats, people are in swimsuits and shorts, tank tops and flip-flops. A total 180 from what I'm used to in mid-December. I ponder the difference between the two as I lounge on the long beach chair beside Dean's as we watch Whitney frolic in the cool water.

Dean hasn't fully embraced the warmer temperatures as he is still in jeans and his usually two-shirt ensemble.  The only thing missing is the heavy work boots he usually dons; his feet are bare. The sunglasses on his face does little to hide the freckles that have made an appearance the darker his skin tans. I've laid in bed recently, counting the cute little misshapen dots. He is all smiles and happy. I love him so much!

When Dean had first suggested taking a trip down south for Christmas break I was astonished, Whitney was ecstatic. In her 13 year existence, this is the first full-fledged vacation we have ever taken so she was excited and enthusiastic about the chance to take a trip. And when she found out the destination, I didn't think she would survive the 17-hour trip without spending the whole time exploding with glee. Whitney and I spent my whole payday on a new wardrobe for the both of us, getting weird and bizarre looks from other shoppers as we tried to find t-shirts and shorts, bathing suits and sunscreen; during December in Indiana those items were few and far between. I also took a secret trip to the courthouse, getting the paperwork to officially make Whitney a Winchester. All it needs is information and signatures from both parents. I plan to surprise Dean with them Christmas morning.

So far, this vacation has been fantastic. We have spent time as a family doing little things, like walking along the beach at sunset searching for seashells, playing mini-golf, spending the day in our hotel room watching old movies and cartoons when the weather took a turn for the worse. It has been a dream come true, something I had never in a million years thought would ever happen. 

Spending time with him and our daughter in what I dubbed as the most magical place on Earth. So what if we're not at Disney World, to me this is the most fascinating time and place; a week spent with my daughter and her father, the love of my life. Life couldn't get any better than this.

I am shaken from my daydreams as I hear Dean growl and begin throwing fictitious daggers with his eyes in the direction of the pool. I turn my head to see a group of teenage boys all surrounding Whitney, who is all smiles at the attention. 

"Calm down honey," I cajole. "We knew this would eventually happen. We can't expect her to be a nun."

"Those boys are too old for her," he defends. "They see an innocent, young girl like her and there's only one thing on their mind." He goes to get up and I reach over to place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Give it a minute," I tell him. "I've taught Whitney to take care of herself."

As Dean and I sit there I keep our daughter in my peripheral, just in case one of us needs to step in. Suddenly, Whitney yells out "Jerk!" and slaps the boy who looks to be the protagonist of the crew. I smile as I watch her climb out of the pool and walk toward us. She sits at my feet and wraps her towel around her shoulders.

"You okay darlin'?" her dad asks, his eyes still trained on the gang of boys. They just don't know how many different ways Dean Winchester could murder them and make them all disappear.

"Y-yea," she answers but I can tell she's lying. "They just said some things that weren't nice."

Dean finally turned his eyes toward his daughter, the dangerous glint replaced by concern.  "Baby girl, I can go have a talk with them, if you-"

"No Dean!" she says, standing up. "I don't need my father taking up for me. I'm not a baby!" As Whitney storms out of the pool area, Dean looks at me, at a loss.

"What did I do?"

I stand up and wrap the sarong around my bikini-clad body. "Just let me go talk to her, okay?" I have an idea what is going on and I know having her dad there I'd never get Whitney to open up. I lean down and kiss him and head in the direction our daughter had stomped off.

In the room, Whitney has thrown herself across her bed and is crying into the pillow.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I ask gently because if my suspicions were true, anything could cause her to fly off the handle.

"I don't know," she whines. "I was feeling okay and then all of a sudden, it's like my energy zapped. So I was just floating in the pool, hoping the ache would go away and then those boys came up and started talking to me. And I liked it," she explains as she sits up on the bed. "But then Kyle said something about me being pure and innocent when I told them how old I was and I just lost it. And then I jumped down Dad's throat and he probably hates me now!" She begins crying again and I join her on the bed, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and she places her head on my shoulder.

 "Oh baby," I console. "I think it's becoming that time. You're getting ready to start your first period."

She jerks her head up and looks at me. "Really?"

"Yea, we need to go get you some pads and Midol. You're going to start bleeding anytime."

"God, did I just ruin our first vacation?"

"No!" I claim. "You didn't ruin vacation at all, baby. Now, let's get cleaned up and run down the street to the store."

"Moooom! I can't leave the room! What if it starts before we get back?" I chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"Okay, okay." I reach over and grab my phone texting Dean to come up to the room. I roll my eyes as I remember the discussion he and I had almost 2 years ago. Never in a million years did I think I would actually be asking this of him but I can't leave my baby.

The look on his face was comical as I whispered my request. He looked terrified and afflicted at the thought of having to buy feminine products. I take screenshots of exactly what he needs to buy and send him on his way, but not before he insists that I remember promising him he would never have to do this particular task.

The rest of the vacation goes off without a hitch. Whitney does begin her first period and requests to spend the rest of our time in Florida in the hotel room, only going out to eat. Dean and I trust her enough to leave her in the room while we go out, exploring not only the beach but the little town we are in. 

Christmas morning comes and Whitney wakes us up with squeals of delight at the massive amount of presents placed under the decorated fake palm tree in our room.

Dean and I sit on the sofa, drinking coffee and enjoying the look of awe on our daughter's face as she opens her presents. Once finished, she winks at her dad and goes to her bag where she pulls a box from inside. Handing it to him, Whitney steps back as Dean slides off to the floor, getting on one knee.

My hand slaps over my mouth as he clears his throat. I have no idea what he says because my inner voice is chanting 'Oh my god! This can't be happening!' Finally my ears take over and I hear him ask, "Becks, will you marry me?" I nod through the tears and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He climbs back onto the couch and wraps his arms around me, only moving one around Whitney when she dog-piles on top of us in excitement.

None of us know though, that when we return to Indiana  the past is going to come back to haunt us, in the form of Sam Winchester back from Hell.

A/N2: Another announcement! Another story! Remember how I promised a sequel to this story? A look into the years these two spent apart? Well I began it and then life happened (along with a stroke) so I just now am finishing it up. Look for Wounded Hearts to begin in March!!! I’m excited to share it with you. I will keep those of you that were on the PH taglist unless you tell me different. Love to you all. 

@vickiq9761 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @spnbaby-67 @sandlee44 @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @larajadeschmidt13 @tftumblin @blacktithe7 @lilulo-12 @adoptdontshoppets @cpag7 @markofdean79 @supraveng @deanwanddamons @mogaruke @death-unbecomes-you @vicariouslythruspn @atc74 @delightfullykrispypeach​ @sea040561​

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Seven (Zuko x Reader)

Part Six

Word Count: 3,000 (really? it seemed longer...)

Author’s Note: I decided to make this one cute because it’s been a hella weird week (year) and I needed some sweet Zuko lovin’ in my life. The only downside is that now I’m piney as fuck, but it’s fine because I’ve got spaghetti from my favorite Italian place in the fridge and comfort food fixes everything. I’d also like to use this time to admit that I’ve always thought King Kuei was cute, because clearly I have a thing for adorable dumbasses who live their lives in denial (shout out to Mark, my ex, fuck you and I hope you miss me every fucking day because we both know you loved me as much as I loved you but were too weak to just own up to your feelings because you’re a punkass little bitch boy ♥). King Kuei and reader are BFFs and that’s canon. 

I hope you’re all holding out okay and staying safe - PSA to wear a mask whenever you go out, make sure it covers both your mouth and nose at all times, wash your hands after being out in public, and stay the hell away from people outside your household. Do something nice for yourself today, you deserve it. I wish you all find a love someday who makes you feel as fluttery inside as these fics make me feel, and that they love you endlessly and fearlessly. I need to stop writing now, I’ve put myself in my feels. 

~ Muerta

Much to the dismay of the international affairs advisors, their opportunities for stalking you about your daily life are drastically cut short when Iroh announces he wants to return to Ba Sing Se. 

“I've been away from the Jasmine Dragon for too long,” he explains, breaking the news over dinner. “I miss her dearly and would like to be with her again.” 

“I should go back to the Earth Kingdom, too,” Toph speaks up. “The metal bending program will probably have to be rebuilt - the idiots I left in charge of it can barely bend rocks.” 

You and Zuko exchange amused looks, though the idea of being left totally alone with him - without the comfort of your mutual friends - makes you lightheaded. Having to go toe to toe with Advisor Qiang and his sketchy, passive aggressive behavior while also navigating a potentially deadly political climate? No sweat. Having to face your husband every day without the distraction of your friends and family to break the awkward tension? Horrifying, but in an exciting, slightly panicky way. 

“It would be a good idea to visit,” Zuko muses, “see how the city is rebuilding. Aang’s coming back in a week or two on his way to the Northern Air Temple, and I bet he’d give us a lift.” 

“Do the international affairs advisors have to come, too?” you ask. “I'm tired of their assistants taking notes on how I prefer to pour my own tea in the morning.” 

Zuko smirks, shaking his head. 

“I'm sending them to the Southern Tribe,” he tells you. “Hakoda’s hosting a summit for them to celebrate our union.” 

“You're finally getting your life changing field trip with Hothead!” Toph cheers, playfully jabbing her elbow into your arm. “Now we can start a club - Sokka really wants to get jackets.” 

As Appa glides through the air, you lean over the edge of his saddle, gazing out at the clouds as they pass. It’s your first time flying, and everything about it amazes and terrifies you - the miniscule landscape below, the shift of Appa’s massive body under his movement and breathing, the cold breeze kissing your cheeks and running its fingers through your hair, the way the sky is so much more vast than you ever could have imagined - it’s like you’ve fallen into a different world entirely. 

You reach down and stroke at Appa’s fur, earning an appreciative grunt from the bison. Aang turns back from his place at the reins to grin at you, much more excited about your first time in the air than you are. 

“What do you think?” he wonders cheerfully. 

“It's like sailing, but in a dream,” you reply. “The clouds remind me of glaciers back home.” 

“Makes you wish you were an air bender, doesn't it?” Aang chuckles. 

You laugh nervously, shaking your head. 

“No! I can't stop thinking about how long the fall is from up here!” 

Aang tosses his head back with laughter, the sound of his voice carried on the wind filling you with the feeling of walking through the threshold of the cottage you shared with Sokka and Katara as a child; neither of them are present, but having Aang nearby feels just as much like home. 

Across the saddle, Zuko smiles at you. You’re a few feet away from him, yet you still feel the warmth from his body as his eyes meet yours; his gaze is different somehow, as if he's seeing you for the first time. You blush, bashfully returning his grin. 

“Are you okay?” Toph asks beside you. She's clutching your hand, neither of you very fond of your height off the ground. “Your heart rate jumped.” 

“I'm fine,” you tell her. “I just looked down.” 

Ba Sing Se is larger than you ever thought a city could be. As you approach, you stare in awe at the epic sprawl of the place, each district looking like its own little country within a quilt of a continent. You've been to the North Pole before, having spent a year there after the war, but even the shock of seeing their massive skyline pales in comparison to just how huge the Earth Kingdom is. Zuko smirks at you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Wait until you see it from the ground,” he teases. 

You’re even more amazed by the city as you view it from the palace. It sprawls in every direction, some of its buildings reaching as high as Appa can float; Iroh explains that it's a new concept designed by the most renowned Earth Kingdom architects, some of them planning towers that stretch one hundred stories. Everything about the place seems impossible. 

Inside the palace, King Kuei meets you in the entry hall, greeting Aang with a warm hug and Zuko with a firm handshake. 

“It's so good to see you all!” he exclaims. “It's been far too long. Tonight we’re having a party to celebrate your arrival, and to congratulate the newlyweds!” 

You smile, bowing low at the waist as you thank him. 

“My husband has told me of your hospitality,” you say. “It’s an honor to be celebrated by you.” 

When you straighten up, Kuei takes your hand and politely places his lips to the back of your palm, closing his other hand atop it. 

“And I've been told about your exquisite nerve,” he replies, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Your bravery deserves to be celebrated.” 

After a tour of the palace, you and Zuko are led to your suite. The windows in both the sitting room and bedroom look out over an incredible view of the city, in which you can almost see as far as the eastern wall; you can hardly pull yourself away, leaving Zuko the task of inspecting the rooms to ensure everything is in order. 

“We have a problem,” he says, stepping out to where you perch by the sitting room window. “There's only one bed.” 

You snap your head to attention, fixing him with a quizzical expression. 

“... I mean, I guess that's normal,” you reply, piecing the situation together in your head. “We are married.” 

“Do you want me to request another room for myself?” Zuko asks. “I could get one of the bedrolls from Appa’s pack and sleep on the floor.”

You shake your head, pacing over to where he stands. 

“I trust you,” you tell him. “We have to get comfortable with each other at some point.” 

Zuko nods, blushing and unable to hold your gaze. 

“You're right,” he agrees. “I trust you, too.” 

You gently take his hand, causing him to shift his eyes back to yours; you smile, giving his palm a light squeeze. 

“Zuko, it’s okay,” you assure him. “Really. I’m okay with it.” 

Zuko nods again, reaching absently to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“I just want you to feel safe,” he admits. “You’ve already got enough to worry about without… all of this.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you smile at him. 

“All you’ve done since the day we met is protect me,” you remind him. “Sleeping with you is the last thing that could possibly worry me.” 

Zuko chuckles, leaning to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” he playfully scolds. “Or I’ll make you sleep on the bed roll.” 

You gasp, giggling as you push his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe my own husband would make me sleep on the floor,” you tease. “And in a strange city, no less! You’re so awful to me.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes, smirking as he bends and hooks his arms under your bum, lifting you up over his shoulder. You squeal, laughing as he carries you into the bedroom and flops you down on the mattress, jestfully smacking a pillow into your face. 

“Get changed, Queenie” he tells you, retreating into the sitting room before you can launch a counterattack. “The party’s in an hour.”

In the ballroom of the Earth King’s palace, it seems everyone in the city has turned out to celebrate your arrival. 

You sit in a throne beside Kuei’s, Zuko to your left and Aang to the Earth King’s right. Dignitaries from Kuei’s cabinet as well as various parts of the kingdom come to give their regards, all greeting you much more fondly than many of the guests at your wedding; Kuei is excited to introduce you to everyone, giving fervent, detailed descriptions of what each person does and launching you into long conversations with them. You don’t mind his enthusiasm, finding it endearing that he cares so much and so openly about the people who serve him. 

“Ah, here’s a very special guest!” Kuei announces, cheerfully clapping his hands. 

A woman approaches the throne, leading a large, furry animal up the steps towards you; its long claws and massive stature send a chill through you, but once you look into its beady little eyes and notice its round ears and bumbling demeanor, you’re enamored. 

“Is that a bear?” you ask, excitedly gripping Kuei’s sleeve. 

“Yes!” he cheers. “His name is Bosco; he’s a close friend of mine.” 

Bosco lets out a soft growl as Kuei scratches him under the chin, pulling the fuzzy giant into a tight hug. 

“He loves cuddles and blackberries,” Kuei tells you. “Don’t let his claws scare you - he’s a big softy.” 

One of the servers appears with a bowl of fresh fruit, setting it into your lap for you to share with your newest party guest. You carefully take a blackberry into your palm, holding it out for Bosco to sniff; his nose hovers above your fingers, letting out a few warm huffs of breath onto your skin before licking the berry up into his mouth. You turn to Kuei and give him a wide smile, gathering more berries into your hand for Bosco to eat. 

“I love him,” you tell your host. “He might be coming back to the Fire Nation with me.” 

Kuei laughs, giving Bosco a loving pat on the head as you continue to fatten him up, switching between feeding him and running your fingers through his thick coat, giggling when his tongue flops out to lick your cheek; you never expected an animal fabled to be so fearsome to turn out so sweet. 

Once the bowl of fruit is empty, Bosco settles onto the floor at the foot of Kuei’s throne, letting out a heavy yawn. Kuei reaches to scratch behind his ears, then stands, offering you his hand. 

“Would you like to dance?” he asks. “I heard you and the Avatar made quite the display at your wedding.” 

“We did!” Aang chimes in, also getting to his feet and sweeping Toph (who stands just to the side of the thrones, having declined the royal treatment for the evening) into his arms. “We were taught a few Earth Kingdom dances by your advisors, too!” 

Toph laughs as you’re both led onto the dancefloor, taking her position beside Aang. 

“And that’s why I call him Twinkle Toes,” she jokes. 

Kuei chuckles, taking you by the waist and starting the dance, twirling with you in an interlaced circle between Toph and Aang. You each pass from partner to partner, raising your hands to meet them together and spinning gracefully around each other before returning to the escort you  started with. Kuei’s arm skillfully finds your waist when he takes you back in, each of you facing the opposite direction with your sides pressed together, turning in a clockwise motion. He grins at you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

“You’re a natural!” he praises you. “I’m sorry I have two left feet.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Back home, they consider me clumsy,” you confess. “I used to step on my brother and sister’s toes when they tried to teach me to dance - I still do sometimes!” 

Kuei chortles, taking your hand in his and repeating the sequence of steps you just completed. You recite the ritual five times before the dance is over, ending with each of you bowing to each other with cheerful, elated smiles. Someone behind Kuei clears his throat, and he turns to find Zuko, his hand outstretched toward you. 

“You promised to teach me to dance,” he reminds you. 

You nod, a burning heat pinkening your cheeks as you take his hand. 

“I did,” you echo. “Thank you for the wonderful dance, your majesty.” 

Kuei smirks knowingly between the two of you, bowing before taking his leave. 

“The pleasure was all mine, my lady,” he says in parting. “It’s rare that I have such an excellent partner.” 

Zuko’s arm locks around your waist, skirting you to the edge of the dance floor where he stands stiffly, holding you in place in front of him. You let out a soft giggle, resting your hands on his chest. 

“I thought you didn’t want to learn how to dance with an audience?” you prod, starting to sway in time with the music. Zuko does the same, his body drifting along in sync with yours. 

“I wouldn’t enjoy the party if I sat through it,” he explains, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. You quirk a brow, grinning teasingly at him. 

“Sure,” you say. “It definitely didn’t have anything to do with me dancing so close with another man.” 

“Not at all,” Zuko replies. His hand at the small of your back clutches you a little tighter, giving himself away. “It looked like fun and I wanted to join in.” 

You roll your eyes, smirking as you take a step back from him, lacing your fingers with his. 

“Let’s find Aang,” you suggest. “He can help me teach you the dance we did at our wedding.” 

For the rest of the evening, you, Aang, Toph, and Zuko occupy a small corner of the dance floor, guiding the Firelord with the steps of your favorite traditional Water Tribe dance. He’s nervous, moving with rigid gestures and clearly unsure of what his body is supposed to do when set to music, but he tries, watching every move you make with rapt attention. By the end of the night he has the dance memorized, and you twirl in time with him as Aang cheers him on, Toph laughing beside him at the ridiculousness of the scene; Kuei even joins in, rousing Bosco from his nap and dancing with the bear on his two hind legs, sending the entire ballroom into gleeful fits. 

“You’re better at this than you think, you know,” you tell Zuko when you’re left alone, dancing with him much the same way you danced with the king earlier in the night. “I noticed at our wedding that you have great rhythm.” 

Zuko blushes, his lips curling into a timid smile. 

“I’m a fighter, not a dancer,” he says. 

“They’re not that different,” you shrug. “From what I’ve seen of fire bending, it’s a lot like dancing.” 

Zuko hums, gently turning you so that your chest is pressed against his, his hand resting firmly at your waist. 

“Maybe it’s the music lessons my mother forced me to take when I was a kid,” he muses. “Uncle still keeps asking me to play the tsungi horn for him when we’re together.” 

“You play the tsungi horn?” you exclaim, eyebrows raising in excitement. “You should play for both of us sometime!” 

Zuko groans, immediately switching the dance so he can pass you off to Aang. 

You lean against the sitting room in your guest suite, watching the lights of Ba Sing Se as they flicker with the movement of its people. The world looks dreamlike from where you sit, as if it's been turned upside down; a black expanse of sky hangs above a sea of stars, and you float between the two, dizzy with the surrealism. 

Zuko emerges from the bedroom, having changed into his pajamas after giving you the chance to do the same. He crosses the room to where you sit, resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“You coming to bed?” he asks. You nod, standing and following him back into the bedroom. 

Zuko allows you to slip between she sheets before him, giving you a few moments to get comfortable before crawling in beside you, keeping to his side of the bed. Even though the mattress is large enough to fit another couple between you, you can still feel the warmth of his skin spreading across the fabric below, feel the weight of his body sharing the same space as yours. Your heart flutters against your ribs, making your breathing shallow. 

“I had fun tonight,” Zuko whispers into the darkness around you. “Thank you for teaching me how to dance.” 

“I had fun, too,” you reply. “I can teach you the dance people do for Water Tribe weddings; I wish we could’ve done it at ours.” 

“I’d like that. I’m sorry we didn’t have much Water Tribe tradition when we got married… We should go back and have a ceremony there. I’d like to see you in a Water Tribe wedding gown.” 

A shiver runs through your veins, heating your skin as if a fire has been lit beneath it. You roll over to face him, making out his silhouette against the rest of the shadows in the room. 

“I’m glad you asked me to marry you,” you admit to him, the manic jitters in your chest rising to your throat. “I don’t think anyone else could treat me better.” 

Zuko reaches his hand towards you, finding yours beneath the blankets and curling his fingers with yours. For a moment you forget that your relationship was arranged, feeling as if you’re lovers instead of leaders, tasked with repairing a world that’s been shattered since long before you were born. 

“I’m glad you agreed,” Zuko answers. “I was afraid you’d hate my guts because I stalked your brother and sister for six months when we were teenagers.” 

You release a breath of laughter, the pressure in your body unraveling with it. Zuko’s thumb runs tenderly across your knuckles, and you forget that anyone else in the world exists except for the two of you. 

“Goodnight, Zuko,” you murmur. 

“Goodnight,” he hums back to you. “Sleep well.” 

You wake early in the morning with his arm draped over your waist, your head tucked under his chin with your cheek pressed to his chest. You drift back to sleep to his quiet, blissful snores, his heartbeat pulsing in time with your own.

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[chrismho]

Lakmé

Summary: Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living?  The Kurosaki Family invites Rukia along with them to the Opera. Ichiruki/Rukia-centric one-shot inspired by the opera scene in Moonstruck. Set a little bit after FB arc.

PS: It’s a pretty famous song but if you haven’t heard Flower Duet  before, I highly rec you give this rendition a listen, it’s breathtaking! : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9NK-EbUAao

“ICHIGOOOOOOO! RUKI-CHAAAAAN!” 

SMACK!

A day in the Kurosaki household was not complete without at least one collision between Isshin’s face and either Ichigo’s foot or fist. 

“I don't know how many times I have to tell you, old man: QUIT DOING THAT!” Ichigo roared, swiftly kicking his father back to the other side of the living room.

Rukia waited patiently for Isshin to complete this strange ritual, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, Masaki!” Isshin sobbed, throwing himself upon his poster. “H-how cruel, how unloving our son has become! And Rukia at his side, so pure and lovely! W-we truly have here a beauty and the beast!”

“SHUT IT!”

 The dark-haired shinigami watched them butt heads and felt a vague sense of nostalgia swirl inside her. I didn’t realize how much I…missed this, she silently admitted to herself. Seventeen months had passed and Rukia kept herself busy with work--very busy. Too busy to stop and realize just how much she missed life in Karakura. But now that she was back, the realization was sudden and overwhelming; she missed late night hollow-hunting, the bustling hallways at Karakura High, she missed Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, she missed indulging in her schoolgirl act, pretending that she was human and truly one of them. But most of all, she missed him. That was a realization that had set Rukia very much on edge. Ichigo was a comrade, a partner, a friend. A friend she found herself pining for in those seventeen months. She recalled a saying she learned in the human world, something along the lines of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. 

Absence had only made Rukia’s heart confused as hell. 

Though almost two years had passed, her relationship with Ichigo picked up almost right where they left off. They bickered, laughed, they understood each other without need for words. But…now there was something new. No, not new; it had always been there. But now....now it was loud. And hard to ignore. It was something that Rukia couldn’t quite name, but its presence was undeniable. It wasn’t uncomfortable...but… but it was there. 

“What do you say, Rukia-chan? Oh, please say you’ll be joining us?”

Isshin’s question snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Eh? I-I’m sorry?” she asked, startled. 

“THE OPERA! An old buddy and colleague of mine has season tickets to the opera house here in Karakura. He’s away on a business trip so he gave me tickets to tomorrow’s show. We haven’t seen you in so long, the girls would just love if you came! SAY YOU’LL JOIN US!” 

“Don’t push her, Dad!” Ichigo said irritably. He turned to Rukia but didn’t meet her gaze. “Seriously, y-you don’t have to go. It’s really boring, the last time I went I wanted to die-”

“OH, BUT THAT’S NOT TRUE,” Isshin cut off gleefully, shoving Ichigo out of the way and putting an arm around Rukia. “The last time we went, Ichigo was but a boy. Though only eight at the time, he was so moved by the performance that he wept and blubbered all night long--” 

“HEY! N-NO I DIDN’T!”

“Yes, you did!” Karin called boredly from the kitchen. 

Ichigo hunched up his shoulders and scowled, his ears and cheeks an angry shade of red. 

“I’d be delighted to attend this...this ‘op-ohr-a’, Mr. Kurosaki!” Rukia declared, a cheerful and sparkly smile on her face. “Excellent! Come tomorrow evening at 7, and dress your very best, my dear! The opera is a most formal event,” Isshin beamed. 

“Whatever. And get your arm off her!” Ichigo grumbled, yanking Rukia away from his father and up the stairs to his room. 

“Ah, young love,” Isshin sighed after them.  “Eager to get her to your bedroom, I see? Yes, yes, I’m sure you have a lot of catching up to do, if you catch my drift--” 

“SHUT UP!” Ichigo screamed over his shoulder. He hurried Rukia inside his room and slammed the door shut. 

“Nice to see the family dynamic hasn’t changed,” Rukia said, a sly smile on her face. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall alongside his bed. 

“1000 Yen says my dad’s got an ear pressed up to the door right now,” Ichigo replied. He sounded annoyed but there was a humorous glint in his eye. He looked up and met her gaze. They both dissolved into a quiet, gentle chuckle. 

“Feel free to sit, you know,” Ichigo said, gesturing towards the bed. “I know it’s been a while but time’s never stopped you from acting like you own this place.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine here,” Rukia responded, cursing herself for answering him a little too vehemently. Ichigo looked at her questioningly, and Rukia could have sworn she saw a very, very faint blush creep on his cheeks. A moment of silence passed. 

Tension. That’s what it was. 

“So what is this opera thing, anyway? I just realized I agreed to something I know nothing about,” Rukia asked, eager to change the subject and genuinely curious about this “most formal event” that moved a young Ichigo to tears. 

“It’s, uh, like a play. But with only singing. Really loud, annoying singing. And fancy costumes. And they usually end in tragedy.” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head. 

Her amusement at his fumbling explanation made Rukia forget her discomfort earlier. She smirked and flopped onto his bed. “Sounds like fun. So this loud, annoying play moved you to tears, eh?”

“IT DID NOT-Hmph, *ahem*, It did not move me to tears, I told you already that I found it boring. And I SAID YOU COULD SIT ON MY BED, NOT LIE ON IT!” 

“Oh, Daddy, th-they’re on his bed already! They certainly are fast, aren’t they?” a muffled voice that sounded suspiciously like Yuzu’s could be heard saying from the other side of the door. 

Ichigo’s left eye twitched. 

He swung the door open and Isshin and Yuzu tumbled onto the floor. “SCRAM!” He roared, shaking his fist as they hurriedly fled the scene. 

_____

Giant, crystal chandeliers hung over the U-shaped hall, twinkling prettily in the warm, golden light. The house was packed with many well-dressed and well-to-do people. The euphony of various conversations and chatter rang pleasantly in the air. If Ichigo had been moved to tears by the place alone, Rukia would understand; it was truly, truly beautiful. She tilted her head back, taking in the glittering chandeliers and intricate paintings of flowers and stars on the ceiling. She must have looked visibly awestruck, for she turned to her side to find Ichigo looking back at her, an odd, almost tender smile on his face. She gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. “What? What’s with that dumb look?” She snapped. 

“AGH! What the hell, Rukia?” He glared, letting out a sharp exhale before putting on another smile, this one more teasing. “N-nothing, I was just thinking...the last time I was here as a kid, I remember looking up at the paintings on the ceiling and counting all the stars as a way to pass the time. I guess I was just wondering if you were doing the same.” 

Rukia blinked. It was rare for Ichigo to divulge….well, really anything about his past and his memories. To share this random little anecdote felt oddly intimate. She felt her cheeks warm slightly and turned away. “Heh, no I wasn’t counting, I was just...admiring. She looked back up and couldn’t help but laugh. “Ichigo, there are hundreds of stars, up there! Did you really count them all?” He looked up too and smiled wryly, shaking his head. “Nah, the show always started and the lights would go off before I ever finished. But...I like that I don’t know. It’s this weird, unfinished mystery that just...stays up there on the ceiling, y’know?”

His amber eyes and fiery-orange hair glowed in the warm light of the hall. He glowed. Does he even know how handsome he looks in that stupid tux? Rukia thought, torn between feeling endeared and annoyed. And spewing out weird, lovely musings like that, too. What an idiot. 

She looked down at the program in her lap. In intricate, gold cursive, the words Lakmé: Opera en 3 Actes shone smack dab in the middle. “Is...is this in French?” she asked. “Yeah, but it’s okay; you see those black screens above the curtains up there? They’ll have translations…”

The lights began to dim. 

Quickly, stealthily, Ichigo stole one last look at Rukia in full light. She was already a beautiful woman but tonight she practically glowed. With the help of Yuzu and Karin, she had parted her cropped hair to one side and teased it into elegant waves. She had reluctantly let them put makeup on her, too, and Ichigo had a hard time keeping his eyes away from her lips, soft and painted red like a pomegranate. She was wearing a dress that Ishida had surprised her with a few weeks ago, a wine-colored sleeveless piece that gently hugged her form and flowed past her knees. Yeah. She glowed. It was annoying. 

Y’know, I bet she knows exactly how good she looks and is only pretending to be oblivious. He thought. What an idiot.

The red velvet curtains pulled back to reveal what looked like a stone courtyard on stage, adorned with all sorts of plants and exotic flowers. But the set was nothing compared to the music that emanated from the pit in front of the stage. She’d never heard anything like this. Not on the streets of Rukongai, nor in the banquets and gatherings in Seireitei. What was it Ichigo had called them? An orchestra. An orchestra, an orchestra, an orchestra. She had to remember that word. How so many voices, so many different strange and wonderful-looking instruments, could come together and create a sound so unified and sweet amazed her. 

A procession of people dressed in long, unstitched garments came onto the stage, singing words Rukia could not understand. A big man, clad in a costume beard and yellow robe, opened his mouth and began to sing a solo.

Rukia froze. 

It was obvious what he was doing required much skill, but….he sounded...funny? Rukia narrowed her eyes and fought a smile, trying to reason with this deep voice that shook with such a fervent vibrato. 

She heard a snicker two chairs away from her, and turned to see Karin in the dim light, her face contorted humorously. Rukia was about to join her before Isshin turned to his daughter with a glare so scary and dangerous that any humor at all in both Karin and Rukia was effectively vanquished. 

So entranced was she by the costumes and lights and flutes and cellos that the dark-haired shinigami found herself forgetting to glance up at the translations above the stage. She looked just enough times to gather that this was set in a temple in which rites were being performed. The ritual ended, and as smoothly as they glided in, the singers drifted back off the stage, leaving behind two women. 

The women, arm in arm, walked down to the “river” on stage to gather flowers. The one dressed in red turned to her companion and began to sing:

Viens, Mallika, les lianes en fleurs

Jettent déjà leur ombre

Sur le ruisseau sacré

qui coule, calme et sombre,

Eveillé par le chant des oiseaux tapageurs.

Rukia froze once more. This time, there was no urge to laugh. Goosebumps rose on her arms. Her ears tingled. What, Rukia thought shakily. What is this?

The other, dressed in a simpler, sun-colored dress answered her friend in a voice just as haunting and sweet:

Oh! maîtresse, c'est l'heure

où je te vois sourire,

L'heure bénie où je puis lire

Dans le coeur toujours fermé

De Lakmé!

 Rukia clenched her teeth, maintaining a stone-cold Kuchiki expression while her soul inside shook and quaked. 

What is this?

                                                 Dôme épais le jasmin

                        Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin

Like flowers landing on the surface of a pond, their voices floated, glided, rippled through the hall, lighter than air. 

                                                    À la rose s'assemble

                                        À la rose s'assemble

The melody seemed to follow some invisible wave that drifted down, then up, then down, and down again. It was elegantly unpredictable, like the path a feather takes on the way to the ground.

Rukia’s throat caught. The swelling in her chest bewildered and almost angered her. This...this beauty was almost cruel. Her eyes felt hot. Her face remained expressionless.

                                                 Rive en fleurs, frais matin,

                             Sur la rive en fleurs, riant au matin,

I never did get the chance to understand what it is to live, Rukia thought. She had, in fact, died when she was only a baby. 

I....could see traces of what life was in the youth and excitement of Ichigo and his friends...the sound of their laughter, their chatter about the future.

                                                 Nous appellent ensemble.

                                       Viens, descendons ensemble.

With each rise and fall of their voices, Rukia felt as though her soul was expanding. The singers’ figures became blurry behind the tears that began to well in her eyes.

But this…this swelling in my chest, and the goosebumps on my skin. My throat...feels tight. 

A tear broke free and began to trickle down her cheek. 

Is this not the closest I’ve ever been to living?

Ichigo gazed steadily at the stage, letting himself float and drift with the melody. It was no wonder the Flower Duet was such a famous song, even to those unfamiliar with opera. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could and turned to check on Rukia. His jaw clenched. 

                                               Ah! glissons en suivant

                           Doucement glissons; De son flot charmant

She stood absolutely still, upright, her small, pale hands clenched into fists on her lap. She did not look at him. He watched with well-hidden astonishment as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She stared solemnly at the women on stage, blinking slowly. Her amethyst eyes glistened with the water and salt that filled them. 

                                                         Le courant fuyant

                                  Suivons le courant fuyant

A lump began to form in Ichigo’s throat. He turned away, back to the stage. He couldn’t put into words what she was feeling, but he felt he understood it. He didn’t want to intrude on her moment, but he also wanted to let her know that she was not alone. Even when they were worlds apart, he’d find a way to reach her. Slowly, his hand moved towards hers. 

His fingertips lightly brushed her wrist, and traveled up towards the back of her hand. 

Rukia kept her eyes fixed on the singers. She gave no indication that she even noticed his hand on hers. A twinge of disappointment and embarrassment stung him. I...probably ruined her moment. I shouldn’t have-

His heart stopped. Silently, suddenly, the slender, cold hand seized his own. She intertwined her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. She did not look at him. 

                                                     Dans l'onde frémissante,

                                      Dans l’onde frémissante

To this day Ichigo couldn’t say what the hell compelled him to do what he did next. Maybe it was the nearly two years of separation, or the swelling music and stupid, glittering, chandeliers messing with his head, or the way she gripped his fingers with such a quiet and loving intensity, or a mix of all of those things. Slowly, he raised her hand up, off her lap. 

                                                   D'une main nonchalante,

                                      D’une main nonchalante,

Rukia stirred, tilting her head slightly towards him. He brought her hand up to his face and slowly, gently, firmly, pressed his lips against her knuckles. Rukia’s eyes flashed wide open, and now she turned to look at him. Another tear rolled silently down her otherwise stoic face. Ichigo opened his eyes and looked back at her. 

                                            Dôme épais, blanc jasmin,

                             Sous le dôme épais, Sous le blanc jasmin,

Nothing was said, but a thousand words were exchanged between them. Ichigo lowered her hand but did not let go. They held their gaze for a moment longer, then turned their heads back towards the stage. 

                                                      Nous appellent ensemble!

                                    Ah! descendons ensemble!

[bumbly-beee]

The Puppet Show

You were always missing socks. This was the conundrum of your life, especially now, when you had Dimentio living with you and stealing your clothing. No pair of socks were safe from the portal of the dryer, a sock, (Or a few), being lost to who-knows-were land. You weren’t suspicious, you just thought that they ended up somewhere else.

That was until Dimentio sent you to Dimension D.

The lights, (were there even lights in Dimension D?), were dimmed down low, and the only bright light coming from a small, homemade stage. This wasn’t the typical stage, its curtains were that shiny, iridescent fabric of Dimentio’s poncho. The other accent curtains were instead yellow, and the tassels lining the bottoms were glistening craft jewels in silver. The stage itself was just plain cardboard, painted to look like wood. 

“Excuse me, sir! Are you looking for your seat?”

You look down and your faced with a living tube sock. The sock has two, large googly eyes pinned to its face, and it was wearing a little attendant’s uniform in the color of yellow and purple. Coming out of the small sleeves were a pair of black pipe cleaner arms. It didn’t have any legs or feet, just its sock body.

“Um...Yes?” You have no idea what to say, and you are 70% sure Dimentio hit you aside the head on your way here. That, or Dimentio really has an active imagination, and you find that possibility to be humorous. The sock puppet nods calmly, and you follow it to a grid of chairs you hadn’t noticed before. The seat you were led too was human sized, (in comparison to the small, cardboard chairs that were used to hold even more sock puppets, live sock puppets). Your chair had a little piece of gold paper taped to the back, your name Luigi written in flourished cursive. You take a seat, and the attendant hurries off, its little arms waving about with no control. You chuckle. What was Dimentio doing this time?

“The Production of Unexpected will begin momentarily, please remain in your seats until intermission.” 

Unexpected? What could this play possibly be about? You wonder. 

The show lights brighten, and the glittering curtains raise to the joy of the audience. You find this funnier now, because to clap, the sock puppets are slapping their pipe cleaners against each other. You hold in your laughter as they quiet down and the narrator comes onto the stage. 

The play is about a man named Cleriaan, who had eminence power and was  kidnapped as an infant, raised into a terrible household. His “parents” wanted to harness his powers to use for themselves, but due to their greed, the overwhelming power killed them. He was found by a priest, then moved into a seemingly better household, but that didn’t stay for long. The father used any means necessary to limit the power and magic of the boy, embarrassing him to no extent, making the boy’s life a living hell. There was, however, a bright side, the father’s son, name Walveier, As the pair grew older, Walveier started to fall in love with a village woman named Diannah, who he married in secret and tried to run away with. The Father, furious about his son marrying outside of royalty, sent Cleriaan to get rid of her. He did. Walveier, furious with his father, killed him, taking an artifact from his father’s study. With the power of the artifact, he vowed to taking everything away that took his love from him. 

You’ve never felt so moved and emotional at a sock puppet play. You wonder if Dimentio made this to reflect his life or if it was subconscious. 

The second act starts in full swing. Time has passed, and the plan for chaos was no longer alive and kicking. Through narration, you find out that Walveier and his love, (who was very much alive), Diannah put a stop to the chaos, but that didn’t come without a price. The pair vanished and Cleriaan, who was being used for the chaos, was laying dormant in the abandoned castle, seemingly dead. But another sock puppet, a man named Kimpagi who was a thigh high sock, helps Cleriaan and nurses him to a healthy status, much to Cleriaan’s confusion. Over the small amount of time, Cleriaan develops a interest in Kimpagi, (How in the world did Dimentio think of these names?), and even saves him from dangerous turn of events. The events leave Cleriaan blind, but the pair couldn’t care, they were both safe now, out of danger’s way. 

The curtains closed, leaving you wiping falling tears from your eyes. The play was fantastic. The crowd of sock puppets were clapping and you followed them. The curtains opened, and the cast did a their curtain call, Kimpagi’s pipe cleaned hand holding Cleriaan’s. The sock puppets clapped louder. The lights came on, and the puppets filled out, leaving you and empty chairs.

“Did you like the show?” Dimentio popped out of nowhere, You jumped a bit, but smiled widely.

“Dimentio, that play was amazing! How in the world did you make socks look so - so human?” You asked him, still grinning like an idiot, “They made me cry!” 

He chuckled softly, blushing a bit, “I’ve been coming here to plan this story for a bit. Sorry I took your socks, i needed a cast, and i doubt seeing me play all the parts would be a tad boring.” 

Did your ears deceive you? He said sorry... Sorry! You place your hands on his shoulders, say, ‘I’m going to kiss you, stars” and once you check for signs of hesitation of general not-okay-ness, you pull him close and your lips collide, with such clumsy demeanor that Dimentio giggles against your lips as he kisses you back, much softer. 

“Get a room, love bugs.” 

The you guys look down to see the attendant looking up at you, poking your boot with a small broom. 

By the stars, you love Dimentio. 

---

Here you go @lizadale  :) 

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [21/27]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Zelda Spellman/Lilith

Summary: “Oh no, you promised me breakfast first,” Lilith said. “I want you to take me on a date.”

  N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief.

Zelda woke up between Lilith’s legs. Her jaw ached as she lifted her head to look from over Lilith’s belly to where she slept. She remained deep asleep with a blanket thrown over her chest and an arm strewn across her eyes.

She was beautiful in the muted sunlight coming from outside.

Dropping her head down, Zelda kissed at the parted thighs, working her way up to the woman’s hip, over her belly and felt as Lilith stirred.

Zelda watched as eyes peered down at her, a half-asleep smile tugging at her mouth before Zelda dipped her tongue between the woman’s folds.

Lilith gasped and arched, a low chuckle forming in her throat. “You are insatiable, Zelda.”

Zelda made a humming agreement as she slid her tongue over the wet folds. Lazily at first and then as Lilith’s body began to arch, her hips pressing forward, Zelda stroked her tongue with purposeful intent.

Lilith’s hands reached down to curl in her hair and tug her where she wanted her, as her thighs squeezed around her head, soft gasps breaking in the air.  

If Zelda was honest, there was no place she’d rather be, than right there in between Lilith’s thighs and summoning every single gasp from the woman’s throat.

Lilith came with a small cry and then a soft laugh tumbling from her lips as Zelda drew away from between her thighs and slid up her body to press a kiss to her mouth.

Lilith kissed her once, then twice and sighed. “I could get used to this,” she said, pulling back to look at Zelda softly as she wound her fingers through her hair. There was still sleepiness to it, an exhaustion that made her blink slowly. But her smile was bright, and Zelda couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Lilith wanted her. She wanted a relationship; she didn’t want to sleep with anyone else, because all she wanted was her.

It was enough to feel the words clawing up her throat, threatening to be spoken if she wasn’t careful––and Zelda needed to be careful. She didn’t want to ruin this by saying I love you before Lilith was ready to hear them.

“We should shower,” Zelda said, “then have breakfast, and…” she trailed off, her eyes watching Lilith as the woman began to draw slow circles over her hips.

“I want to stay in bed with you,” Lilith said.

“Well…if we go back to yours, we can be much louder,” Zelda advised. “There’ll be no one else around who may overhear us.”

“Dull.”

“Mm, for you, but this is my family,” Zelda reminded before she slowly eased Lilith onto her back and then climbed on top of her, straddling her hips. “We’ll shower, get dressed and I’ll take you out for breakfast.”

“Are you going to take me out on a date?” Lilith asked, rocking her hips.

“Would that be so awful?”

“Oh, dreadful,” Lilith mocked, her face scrunching up before she laughed. And then her hands reached up, entwining with Zelda’s. “So I’m clear, we’re not romantically involved until you speak with your niece and nephew, is that correct?”

Zelda nodded.

Lilith bit her lip and then smiled. “But you want to?”

“I want to,” Zelda assured.

“Well, you’ve been quite coy, so I thought I’d ask.”

Zelda laughed. “I suppose I have, but only because I thought that you might only be interested in the kink, and weren’t that interested in a relationship––or were perhaps curious but didn’t feel the same way, and––“

“You’re an idiot,” Lilith said, stopping her. “I have been as unsubtle in my attempts as possible.” Lilith had rolled them suddenly, and then Zelda was on her back, and Lilith was lying on top of her, pinning her hands above her head. “Zelda, I’ve wanted you since I saw you in that bookshop.”

Zelda smiled, feeling her heart race with the declaration. “Why didn’t you ask me for coffee then?”

“Because I wasn’t ready to date,” Lilith said. “Would you have accepted if I’d asked?”

Zelda paused, trying to think back to that day in the bookshop, but all she could remember was a faded recognition of being annoyed by Hilda. “I don’t know,” she said with honesty. “I don’t think I was ready for a relationship. I was too busy.”

“As if you’re not still busy.”

“I’m on holidays,” Zelda reminded her.

“Mm, and how much of that has been spent in your home office?” Lilith asked, leaning forward to kiss her again. Their fingers squeezed against one another, and then Lilith let go of her left hand. Zelda sighed as the kissing moved to her neck as the hand slipped between her thigh.

“We should get up,” Zelda sighed, though she parted her thighs and made no attempt to push her away. “Shower…”

“One more won’t hurt,” Lilith said. Zelda nodded, unable to respond when the woman began stroking between her legs so gently, coaxing her awake. It didn’t take long, with her right hand still grasping at Lilith’s, her left grasping at sheets, Zelda came with a softened cry, as she tried not to make the household.

It was a welcomed relief as she kissed Lilith, feeling the world narrow until it was just the two of them.

She knew she should push Lilith to get off her and into the joining bathroom, but when Lilith’s body settled against her again, there was nothing Zelda could do but feel her heart pounding in her chest, and a warmth spread through her body, despite the chill of the winter’s air creeping through the bedroom.

I love you, she thought, pressing a kiss to Lilith’s head.

They settled for a moment and then they managed to untangle themselves from each other and make their way to the ensuite bathroom. There, Zelda watched as Lilith seemed to take more interest in looking around the bathroom, examining it before she turned her eyes back to Zelda’s.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many products.”

“They all do different things,” she assured, as she took the soap and began drawing it over Lilith’s body. “And don’t be rude, I saw how many hair products you have.”

“Mm, not sure it’s in the same ballpark as your skin routine,” she smiled at Zelda, her grin only widening as Zelda glared. “Oh, do you not like to be teased about this?”

“I do not.”

“Then I’m very sorry and will endeavour to be better.”

Zelda drew her hands to Lilith’s hips and tugged her closer. “I don’t know,” she said, placing the soap aside. “I feel terribly offended by your teasing.”

Lilith’s grin widened. “Oh? And however, shall I make it up to you?”

“I’ll have to think on it,” Zelda said, watching as Lilith’s tongue was caught between her teeth, her eyes growing with desire.

“How’s your jaw?” Lilith asked, pausing to take it in her hands before Zelda shifted out of her grasp.

“It’s fine,” she said, before taking the shower hose to rinse down Lilith’s body. “I do have some endurance.”

“Oh?” Lilith asked. “Were you often using your mouth in such a way before you met me?”

“Mm, wouldn’t you like to know what I got up to?”

“I would,” Lilith said, “In great, explicit detail.”

Zelda stepped forward and then kissed her gently. “How about I give a small demonstration?” she asked. Lilith hummed, nodding her head and then Zelda was adjusting one hand around Lilith’s waist as she began kissing down her neck, going over marks she’d left the night before.

“Spread your legs for me,” she said and felt as Lilith obeyed, the woman’s hands slipping over her shoulders.

And then Zelda was adjusting the shower hose, sliding the nozzle to massage before her mouth returning to Lilith’s, as she kissed her, giving a demonstration of how Zelda spent her time in the two years before she met her.

Lilith rocked against the spray of the water, and then her hands were gripping Zelda tighter as she kissed her harder and firmer, moaning against her softly. They were soft, sweet noises––different to how she’d been this morning, and far lighter than the ones she had last night.

It was addictive to hear, to hear the woman gasp, feel her hips buck suddenly, involuntary as her fingers dug in as if she could pull her closer.

She whimpered as–––

A knock sounded on the bathroom door.

“––Zelda?” came the muffled sound of her sister. “You’ve been in there a while. You alright?”

“Fine, sister!” she called out. “I’ll be out soon.”

“Alright, then.”

And then she could hear her sister turning away.

Zelda dropped the shower hose and looked at Lilith’s flushed face as the building climax died away from the intrusion. “Later,” she promised. “Perhaps we should…head to yours.”

“Oh no, you promised me breakfast first,” Lilith said. “I want you to take me on a date.”

“Oh, so I’m the one taking you?” Zelda teased.

“You asked me out last night if you hadn’t forgotten, so yes, you’re taking me on a date.”

Zelda rolled her eyes but remained amused nonetheless as she watched Lilith finish showering before she climbed out and began drying herself off. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet,” she said. “Should be blue.”

Lilith opened up the mirror, flicking through the contents before she plucked the unopened toothbrush from its place. “Often have a spare toothbrush just in case, or did you recently purchase it?” Lilith asked, turning her head to look at her.

“I keep a few toothbrushes for guests,” she confirmed. “Back when Sabrina was young, she’d often have friends over who forgot a toothbrush.”

“Ah, ever a mother, I see.”

Zelda paused at the comment, feeling a pang in her chest. She wasn’t a mother, and it was just practical. Children were careless. Back when Sabrina was young, she used to pack a spare toothbrush for her just in case, even though Sabrina assured her that she’d packed one.

“Zelda?” Lilith said, “Did I say something?”

“No,” Zelda said, shaking her head. Finishing the shower, she brushed her teeth before they both headed into the bedroom where Zelda dressed and watched as Lilith picked at her clothes strewn across the bedroom.

“Here,” she said, handing a pair of underwear over. They were a nice pair, but not an uncomfortable one.

Lilith grinned as she plucked them from her grasp. “Is that how it’s going to be?” she asked, eyebrows waggling. “I usually charge extra for this.”

“You can choose to go commando if you prefer.”

“Oh, no,” Lilith said, already tugging the underwear on, “I enjoy the idea of stealing your knickers.”

“Hardly stolen.”

“You’re not getting them back.”

“I better get them back,” Zelda said. “They’re part of a set.”

Lilith only smiled at her as she slid them on, before resuming her dressing. Zelda watched, fondly as she shook her hair out and then combed her fingers through it. She looked good, especially when she smiled at her.

Zelda dressed warmly, placing on her make-up and blinked at herself in the mirror, turning her head one way and then the next to see if the bite marks Lilith left were visible. They weren’t, but she could feel them there, present underneath her clothes.

Her whole body ached deliciously, and there was nothing more she wanted than to just curl back into bed and sleep beside her. But they were awake, and it was breakfast time. Placing her shoes on, she gave Lilith a look, watching as the woman’s eyes roamed the room, trying to curiously pick at who Zelda was in the privacy of her home.

It was only fair, Zelda supposed. She’d done the same when she’d been at Lilith’s house.

“Got everything you need?”

Lilith’s brow quirked, “Well if anything is forgotten, I suppose I’ll need to come over again,” she said, giving a sultry look before she stepped close. “Now, you look absolutely divine––I can’t wait to take you home with me and make an absolute mess of you.”

“I thought we were going to get breakfast.”

“We are, I just want to make my intentions clear.”

“And what of my intentions?” Zelda asked. “Perhaps I would like to see you on all fours as I fuck you. Did you consider that?”

Lilith drew in a deep breath, and a conflicted look crossed her face before she closed her eyes and shook her head. “Date first,” she said, though she sounded less firm than she had before. Her eyes opening to look as Zelda. “Take me out on a nice date, and maybe I’ll let you kiss me on the porch.”

“Ohh, is that all?”

“Mm. I didn’t say where you could kiss me.”

Zelda smiled at her before leading her downstairs to where Hilda was, making coffee and toast. Hilda turned and looked at them and then gave a sly look as she glanced away.

“Yes, Sister?” Zelda asked as she poured the coffee for Lilith and her both. “Spit it out. We have places to be.”

“I thought I’d check on the guest room this morning, but the bed was otherwise empty last night.”

“Was it?” Zelda asked before she sipped her coffee.

“Mm. Perhaps Lilith got up early?”

“Is that what you’re asking, or are you asking something else?” Zelda inquired.

Hilda paused there, her own nervousness around discussing sex and relationships put into the spotlight since she couldn’t tease it out of Zelda. She fumbled, stuttering for a moment as her face went pink.

Zelda waited, sipping her coffee. Beside her, Lilith flicked through the newspaper idly, as if she was hardly present to what was occurring. Though Zelda caught her smirking to herself, likely enjoying the pot stirring just a bit.

“Well, if anything were happening, I’m—well, erm, quite happy for you both. You both have a glow about you this morning.”

Zelda smiled despite herself before she pushed it behind a mask. It wouldn’t do to let her family see quite how happy she was yet. “Thank you, Hilda,” was all she said. Confirming the suspicions enough that her sister did a double-take, before Hilda’s expression softened, apparently genuinely pleased for her.

Without realising it’d been present at all, a knot eased in her stomach. It made her reflect on her treatment with Doctor Cee, and how, if Hilda even felt half as happy as she did with Lilith, then perhaps it was something worth preserving.

Looking away, she glanced to Lilith and took a moment to appreciate how she looked up at her and smiled as if knowing where Zelda’s thoughts were leading. “Well, we’ll be off this morning. I’ll call you to let you know if I won’t be home.”

“Ohh, yes. A call would be nice. I get worried when I don’t hear from you.”

“As you prefer.”

“So…I take it we’ll be inviting Lilith to your birthday dinner, then?”

Zelda froze. She noticed Lilith also freeze from the corner of her eye, midway through turning a newspaper before she looked to Zelda. “Your birthday is coming up?” Lilith asked. There was an edge to her voice that sent a thrill down Zelda’s spine.

“It is,” she confirmed. “Tuesday, not this one, but the next one. After…we come back from the weekend.”

“What weekend?” Hilda asked.

Ah. Zelda spun to face her sister. “The trip I spoke to you about the other week.”

Hilda’s brows rose, but she didn’t say a word.

“All this can be discussed later,” Zelda advised, as she moved to set her cup down and then watched as Lilith rose, following her action by placing her own cup in the sink, before they both returned to the foyer, pulling their coats on.

There, Lilith seemed to be smiling to herself, quite pleased about something before she pulled out her keys, and then they were both heading outside.

A light amount of snow had fallen that morning, letting them know that a heavy amount of snow was likely to occur over the next week.

“I had the tyres changed the other week,” Lilith advised. “Unless you wanted to take yours?”

Zelda shook her head. “Yours is fine,” she confirmed, before smiling. “You’ll need to work harder than that to get invited over again.”

“Will I, now?”

Zelda hummed, sliding into the passenger seat of the car and felt the moment relax. Glancing to Lilith, she smiled. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure how breakfast would go.”

Lilith smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ll find that your family wants you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

Lilith softened as she looked at her, and then leant forward, kissing her sweetly. “As am I,” she said. “And I’ll be happier with some breakfast.”

“Is that so?”

“Definitely.” She pulled back, putting her seatbelt on and then placed the car into gear. Zelda exhaled as she sat back in the car. It was a quiet drive into town, a softness holding over them as they both basked in the other’s company before Lilith broke the silence. “Not many places will be open,” she advised. “We could drive to Riverdale?”

“I don’t mind,” Zelda said, glancing to look over her. “Wherever you feel suits.”

Wherever turned out to be a small diner with red vinyl seats. It wasn’t something Zelda found fascinating, but it was an open diner, with hot food and wasn’t crowded.  

Zelda ordered french toast, with Lilith ordering the eggs benedict––both with coffee and then sitting together, discussing different food venues. And then the conversation turned when Lilith looked at her with a sharp expression. “Your birthday,” she inquired, eyebrows raising.

“My birthday,” Zelda confirmed.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

Zelda flushed. “Maybe on the day. I would have told you to turn up at the restaurant and watch your face slowly dawn in realisation when the cake was pulled out.”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Of course you would,” she said. “Well, now I don’t have any idea what to get you for your birthday. I’d thought I’d have until Valentine’s Day at least.”

Zelda leant forward on the table, feeling the necklace swing in her cleavage as she did. “I can think of a few ideas.”

“Can you?”

“Mm. Perhaps they require a demonstration,” she purred.

“Do elaborate,” Lilith said to her, her voice low and warm, matching Zelda’s tone.

Zelda leant forward, eyes watching as other patrons walked past before she decided against it, taking the coffee and bringing it to her lips. “Perhaps another time.”

“You know, I have the attachment for that on me,” Lilith stated as she pointed to her necklace. “Perhaps I should…bring it out to see if they can encourage your thoughts. Or perhaps I might tighten them for the disrespect of your birthday being hidden.”

Zelda laughed, and pulled back, feeling a flush warm over her at the idea. Walking around town, feeling the necklace swing with the attachments pinching over her nipples? It was certainly a thought she’d consider. “I wasn’t trying to hide my birthday,” she said. “All of this is new. I didn’t want to put any pressure on it.”

“Ah, I see. Are you nervous about this relationship?”

“I am,” Zelda said, honestly. It was strange to say out loud, to be honest about it, yet her chest didn’t tighten as she expected. “I don’t want it to be too much, too soon for you.”

“You couldn’t be,” Lilith said, and her expression softened. “Be honest with me, that’s all I ask. Everything else we’ll work out.”

Zelda inhaled, and then exhaled, feeling warmth flutter through her chest. It was easier said than done. Be honest. How could she be honest? Tell her that she was on her thoughts all the time? Tell her that she was the first person she wanted to speak to every day, that every time her phone buzzed, she reached for it, looking for her number?

Zelda wanted to try for her. Try to be a good girlfriend and go on dates and remember important events. She wanted to listen to Lilith talk about work, about current events, about the god-forsaken weather if it meant listening to her voice.

Damnit, she wanted her. Loved her. Utterly and completely.

It was so much and so strong that she couldn’t bear it sometimes, and then Lilith would look at her, and her hand would be on hers, and Zelda would feel herself exhale.

“I’ll do my best,” she assured.

“All I can ask,” Lilith teased. “Now…how about we go and get warm somewhere?”

“And where would that be?”

“Oh, by a fire, with hot chocolate, maybe. Sharing body heat is the best way to get warm, after-all.”

How could she refuse such a suggestion?

They returned to Lilith’s cottage, and Zelda built a fire as Lilith made cocoa in the kitchen. There was an easiness to it, and more and more Zelda found herself becoming familiar in the woman’s home.

“I don’t have any whipped cream as Hilda had, so this will have to do,” she said, handing a mug over.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she said, taking a sip. It was powdered cocoa with sugar and heated milk, and overall tasted bland compared to her sister’s. But Lilith had made it, and for that reason alone, Zelda enjoyed it.

They undressed from coats and boots, and then they pressed together underneath a blanket, and although Zelda could feel the stir of desire inside of her, she was content to just be there, beside Lilith and press her forehead to her shoulder as sipped at her drink and watched the fire crackle.

They spoke about work, and politics, about places they’d been and visited.

Everything seemed easy with Lilith. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. There needed to be some deep, dark thing that made Lilith obnoxiously difficult to be with, but so far there was nothing.

“Did you want to go upstairs?” Lilith asked.

Zelda smiled. “And why would we do that?” she asked.

“Oh, I can think of a few ideas,” Lilith said before she turned and began kissing her neck, running over the exposed skin and nipping at it gently enough that Zelda laughed, feeling a thrill run down her as she slid deeper on the couch. Lilith moved to lie on top of her, her hand sliding up, underneath her shirt.

“Lilith,” she sighed, setting her empty mug down on the side-table, by the lamp. “Wait…” she breathed, and Lilith pulled back, looking at her curiously. Her request seemed awkward then as she stared into the incandescent eyes. A desire was growing inside of her and should Lilith kiss her, she’d sure submit, but… “Can we stay like this…just for a moment longer?”

Lilith’s smile broke out, “Of course,” she said. And then leant forward and kissed her forehead before snuggling down on her and Zelda sighed, feeling the woman’s head lay on her chest.

All at once, Zelda felt exhausted. She wanted to stay awake, wanted to enjoy the feeling of the fire, of Lilith’s warm body on hers. But as she felt Lilith body relax, her fingers curling around her waist as she rested her head on her chest, tiredness pulled at Zelda.

She lifted a hand and set it over the mass of curls, feeling herself steadied as her other hand rested over Lilith’s back, so she felt the slow, deep breaths of her sleeping form.

She wondered how many ways there were to say I love you without saying the words. It seemed so easy, as she combed Lilith’s hair, as she kissed the top of her head and watched her curl up tighter on her chest, to press the words against her skin with such small movements.

I love you.

With all of her heart, she meant it.

__________________

[obsessedwithbbandsuju]

I’d Rather Be Insane

You’ve been in love with Jungsoo for so long, but he has a new girlfriend. It’s clearly that he’s completely in love with her, and you’re even ready to hear the news about the wedding. And then, she breaks up with him. 

A/N: This is my first try at a reader-insert SuJu fic. I really satisfied with how this one turned out. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Smut

It was clear that Jungsoo had fallen in love.

Those beautiful eyes shone brighter and that blinding smile grew even more dazzling. That kind gaze that was once so fixed, so intent, when you spoke to him was now clouded over slightly with the drug that love was. It was easy to see that even when Jungsoo listened to you, grinned and responded and nodded as you talked, his mind wasn’t fully there. He was thinking of her. His girlfriend, Lee Nayeon.

And it was easy. So easy to see why he was so desperately in love with her. Nayeon was a model; not extremely mainstream or a household name, but successful enough to be more than comfortable in the world. She was full of life, vigorous, with a smile that could draw your eyes away from the sun, sincere and honest eyes that let you know how genuine she was. She was kind, forever taking care of others without sparing a thought for herself. She was confident, walked everywhere with an easy smile and a sure gait. She was honest, never minced words or sugarcoated but was never unnecessarily harsh or belittling. Goodness, even you had to admit, if you weren’t so deeply in love with Jungsoo, you might have been in danger of falling head over heels for her.

There wasn’t a single moment that she’d been unkind to you. When Jungsoo introduced you to her – her as an acquaintance whom he’d met in a photoshoot, although the starry-eyed way that he looked at her prevented you from believing for a second that he thought of her as just that, and you as one of his oldest friends – she had greeted you so warmly and so earnestly commented that she could see the closeness between you and Jungsoo that, even when jealousy burned in your veins at the look in Jungsoo’s eyes as he stared at her, you couldn’t hate her. There was nothing about Lee Nayeon to hate, and you refused to let your envy potentially hurt someone like her.

Even after she became Jungsoo’s girlfriend, she never showed you a hint of animosity despite your friendship with Jungsoo. It was a relief, she told you, that he had someone like you by his side for so long. She would even ask you for small bits of advice here and there: What kind of gifts did Jungsoo like? It was their six-month anniversary and she wanted to give him something meaningful. What were his favorite foods? It was his birthday and she wanted to cook them for him. How could she help Jungsoo de-stress? He’d been packed with work lately and she wanted him to rest a little bit. Small things like that, that you answered honestly, smiling at her sincere thank-you’s and staring at the wall after she was gone, trying not to let your tears flood over.

And sometimes, in the privacy of your own apartment, the bitterness did get the better of you. You would bury your head in your hands, cursing at the world for being unfair. How, how, was it that Jungsoo never returned the feelings you’d confessed to him three years ago, but fell so hard and so fast for Nayeon after barely a month of knowing her? How did it make sense? How was it right? That she had Jungsoo, and you, who had known him since both of you were teenagers, didn’t?

It hurt. It hurt so goddamn much, seeing the man you had loved for so many years, the man who’d apologetically said three years ago that you were a friend who was so, so dear to him, fallen completely and perfectly in love with another woman.

But that much – that much, you could have stomached. Maybe. You weren’t one for self-pity, and as painful, as unfair, as heartbreaking as it was, you accepted it. What else were you going to do? Jungsoo was too important to you to cut off because you were jealous, and besides, he had done nothing to deserve any coldness from you. All he had done was fallen in love. How could he help that, and how could you condemn him for it?

What chafed at you more than that was that he began neglecting your friendship. You two had developed little unspoken agreements over the years of being so close. A meet-up at least twice a month. A phone call at least once a week. Texting at least every other day. More importantly, being there for each other, listening to each other’s problems, offering comfort and help where you could. It was what you valued most about your friendship with him, what touched you and maintained the close connection between you two for so many years.

And at some point, Jungsoo began to slip up. He’d say he was unable to go to your meetings, that he had to do this and that with or for Nayeon. He didn’t answer your calls, and the only acknowledgement he’d give you was a short text, apologizing, saying he was busy doing this and that with or for Nayeon. Your texts were left unread, and if he bothered explaining, usually at least several days later, it was that he was, yes, doing this and that with or for Nayeon. When you needed a listening year, a shoulder to lean on, he wasn’t it. He cut you short, always because of this and that with Nayeon. He had to go, because of this and that with Nayeon.

It wasn’t like it was Nayeon who was making him do so, either. On the contrary, Nayeon would scold him. Send him off with you deliberately, saying that he should be spending more time with you. She’d pull you aside and talk to you, apologizing for using up so much of Jungsoo’s time. You could tell she was genuinely, sincerely sorry.

And you smiled and told her it was alright. What else were you supposed to do? You couldn’t fault her. And Jungsoo – Jungsoo had never done this to you before in his other relationships, but it just meant that he was that much in love with Nayeon. It just meant that she was someone different from the rest, someone that he was even more deeply in love with. Someone that he might marry, have the sweet family he wanted so much with, with a nice home by the Han River and a beautiful view of the sky and the city. You couldn’t begrudge him. He was in love, and you couldn’t, wouldn’t, ask him to put you before that. You considered yourself a rather selfish person, but even you weren’t going to be that selfish.

And so it went that you sometimes went months with minimal contact with Jungsoo, where before you two would barely go days without calling. The entire time, he was fell deeper and deeper for Nayeon. The other Super Junior members complained that all he would talk about was her, that he acted like a starstruck idiot when she was near, or even when she was mentioned. You laughed at their overblown descriptions and accounts of Jungsoo’s utter devotion to Nayeon, telling yourself that the pain in your chest was going to go away someday. Honestly, you were expecting the marriage news any day now; the moment your fractured heart would finally shatter altogether.

And then, Nayeon broke up with Jungsoo. They were together for three years.

You met her one last time after that, and still, you couldn’t hate her. She looked wilted and tired and so, so sorry that the disbelieving fury in your chest shriveled to nothing. You didn’t ask why she broke up with him, and she didn’t say why, but the two of you parted on decent terms. The last thing she told you was to take care of Jungsoo – and to take care of yourself.

Jungsoo was sitting on his bed. You had never seen him look so devastated in your life. His eyes were dull and flat, his movements were languid and exhausted, and his speech was morose and uninterested. You sat next to him, talked to him reassuringly, rubbed his back and held him as he finally broke down, making himself vulnerable in front of you as he had so many times before. 

“It’ll be alright, Jungsoo.”

“It won’t.” His reply was choked. “It’ll never be alright again. She – she l-left––” The phrase was broken up in between sobs, as if it in its entirety was too much for him to comprehend. “––me.” His grip on you tightened until it was almost painful, but you said nothing. “She’s gone.”

You had nothing to say. You were shocked, too. You thought Jungsoo and Nayeon would last forever, you were sure. Everyone who knew Jungsoo was sure. What happened was none of your business, but whatever it was, how massive, how shattering, could it have been?

“One day,” you whispered, your heart aching. “One day, you’ll feel better.”

“No.” The word was shot out like a bullet – instantaneous, unhesitant, doubtless. “Never. I’ll never––” The sob that cut into his words rocked his entire body, shaking you too with the force of it.

“I loved her,” Jungsoo whispered. “What am I… oh God, what am I going to do? Help me.” He broke away and looked at you, face tear-streaked, eyes desperate and raw. “Y/N, please, please – help me. I don’t know what to do. I – I can’t… I can’t just––” The attempt at a sentence crumbled as another cry gripped him.

You had tears in your eyes, too. “Jungsoo,” you said, “Jungsoo, look at me.” When he didn’t, you threw your inhibitions to the wind and, cupping his face in your hands, raised his chin to force him to look you in the eyes. “It’ll get better,” you said, firmly despite the tears falling down your cheeks now. “It will. You’re a good person – the kindest, most caring, most genuine person I know. I know it hurts so much right now, and it’ll hurt so much for a long time afterwards, but you’ll get through it. You will.” His eyes were searching you, wild and visceral, begging you to be speaking the truth.

“You will get through it,” you said again. “I promi––”

He kissed you, molding his mouth aggressively with yours, hands coming up to cup your face. Your body went slack with shock, but his was vigorous – his thumbs tracing your cheeks feverishly, his legs pulling him closer to you so your curves fit perfectly with him. One hand left your cheek to clasp the nape of your neck, closing the space between your bodies even more.

Your body responded on instinct. The man you had loved for so long, the man whom you’d thought would never even glance in your direction, was kissing you. You returned the kiss, clashing with Jungsoo for dominance, and your hands came up to wrap around his forearms, squeezing tightly.

Sensing your reciprocation, Jungsoo wrapped his arms around your waist, sending a delicious thrill up your spine, and yanked you towards him. Your bodies were pressed tightly together, so tightly that you could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Your mind was completely blank except for the thrumming of pleasure running rampant throughout your entire body, spiking your temperature and making your head spin. Jungsoo was kissing you. You were kissing him.

You felt his hands gripping your shirt aggressively before fingers began to fumble with the first button of your shirt. It popped open, exposing an inch more of your skin to the heated air of the apartment. Jungsoo’s hands went lower, and a second button was undone, followed by a third. His hands, you thought hazily, his hands were so warm against your bare skin. His fingers brushed against the top of your breast, and you nearly gasped. It felt surreal. It felt like it was your imagination, that you could feel Jungsoo’s hands on your body, after telling yourself over and over and over that he would never see you like that.

Your lungs screaming for air, you broke away reluctantly, pulling back just a centimeter, but no sooner had you taken your first choppy inhale before Jungsoo yanked you back to him, connecting your lips again. “Y/N,” he gasped against your mouth, his voice raw and hoarse. His hands continued to work your shirt, unbuttoning it, lower and lower. You couldn’t think. Your mind was clouded over, drunk on him and what he was doing to you.

Jungsoo hooked your legs around his waist, and you gasped as your clothed core pressed against his covered erection. Then, moving frantically, he lowered you onto the bed so your unbuttoned shirt spilled open, exposing your abdomen to the air. But Jungsoo didn’t even stop to look. He yanked his shirt off and began to work on your pants, unbuttoning them in a matter of seconds and sliding them down your legs. You couldn’t tell him to stop. You knew, in the back of your mind, that you’d regret this later, that you’d hate the sight of him afterwards, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Your rationality was completely overwhelmed by this once-in-a-lifetime high, your body desperate for Jungsoo’s touch, and in your haze, it wouldn’t fully sink in, why this was such a bad idea. You needed this – this was the only time you’d get it, and you needed it.

Completely ridding both you and himself of your clothes, Jungsoo wasted no time. He rubbed your core once and, sensing that you were already wet, spread your legs with his hands and pressed into you. You moaned, gripping his shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of your neck with a strangled groan. His hips rocked as he fucked you, moving frantically against your body, but he never looked at you. His face stayed pressed against your neck and shoulder the entire time, even as he moaned and gasped and you whimpered, digging your nails into the skin of his back.

Jungsoo’s thrusts became sloppy and unfocused as he reached his end, and you squeezed your eyes shut, blocking out the warnings that were slamming against your brain. I love you, Jungsoo, you thought, saying the words that you’d wanted to tell him for so long. I love you so, so much. I’m yours.

He stilled, buried deep inside you, and came, his searing warmth filling you. Gasping, you let go of him, and the moment your arms fell to your sides, he was pulling out and away, sinking down on the mattress next to you. You could feel his release dripping out of you, and it was with that small sensation that it all sunk in.

You didn’t try to stop the tears. You only covered your face with your hands, your body shuddering as you sobbed quietly. Jungsoo made no attempt to comfort you. He just pulled up the covers and rolled over, turning his back to your trembling form. Soon, you realized that it wasn’t just your crying you were hearing anymore – it was his, too.

At least one of you had sleep that night. Jungsoo eventually dozed off at what must have been damn near five a.m., but you couldn’t sleep. You just lay there for hours, even after the tears had stopped, staring numbly at the ceiling. Eventually, sometime after Jungsoo had fallen asleep, you got up, bringing your clothes with you, and shut yourself into the bathroom. Your reflection seemed to stare at you with disappointed, reproaching eyes.

Dully, you washed yourself off, put on your clothes, and drifted out to the living room, taking a heavy seat on the sofa. You couldn’t believe what the two of you had just done. The two of you had fucked, you looking for any way to have him, someone who would never see you that way, like that, him seeking comfort from his devastation in the wake of Nayeon’s leaving and taking it from the easiest person he could get it from. He used you, he used your feelings for him – you knew that. And you were angry. So fucking angry at him for using the love you had for him for so long to try to lessen his pain, even just a little – and so fucking angry at yourself for letting him do it. Jungsoo had taken advantage of you, and you had just let him.

With a sigh that didn’t even come close to expressing how you felt, but was simultaneously the only way you could possibly even try to explain it, you shuffled through your purse, took one of the contraceptives that you brought with you inside, and checked the time. It was almost seven a.m. You wanted to leave the house, run from it and never come back, because the thought of Jungsoo now burned, but you weren’t going to be that irresponsible. You two were grown adults, and as disgusting as the notion sounded, you knew you had to talk about what you had done that night.

As the morning brightened, you made Jungsoo breakfast, trying to stifle the growing urge to start throwing plates around the kitchen and scream in frustration and anger. You had just finished setting the table when Jungsoo came out from his bedroom. You met his eyes steadily, and he stared back, expression unwelcoming.

“Why are you still here?” The question was stiff, cold. You briefly pictured picking up the cup of water and hurtling it at his insufferable face, but that wouldn’t solve your problems.

“Eat first.” Your voice was curt. After a tense hesitation, he did as you said, sitting down at the table and staring at the food like he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to eat what you made or not. For your part, you sat on the sofa and waited, stone-faced, as he ate. You didn’t need to watch him to know that he barely ate five bites before putting his utensils down.

He walked over to you purposefully and sat down across from you, the defensiveness in his body language and demeanor making you wonder if this was going to be a difficult conversation.

“About last night,” you began, knowing that you didn’t need to elaborate. Jungsoo tensed, sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders like he was about to fight you.

“That was a mistake.” His tone was brusque, clearly determined not to be made into the one at fault. It made you want to stand up and start shouting at him. “We shouldn’t have. It was all… we weren’t thinking straight.”

You stared.

“It’s best if we just forget about it.”

You looked away, feeling like the world had fallen out from under your feet. Sure. Sure, you knew all that. It wasn’t like you had expected, or even hoped for, some drama’s plot twist, some movie confession of love from him. You knew what last night was. You knew what you two had done was a line that you never should have crossed – a line that you never even should have come near. But hearing him dismiss it as just a mistake with his own mouth, after he had purposefully kissed you and initiated everything…

“That’s it?” you said, disbelieving. “That’s what you have to say? That it was all just wrong? That you weren’t thinking about what you were doing? After you kissed me out of the blue while I was trying to comfort you?”

“I wasn’t in my right mind!” Jungsoo snapped. You shook your head.

“No! No, you don’t get to just say that and then expect me to be fine with it!” You glared at him, trying to prevent the tears from filling your eyes. You’d already wasted too many tears on this man – first because he said you were just an important friend, then because it hurt seeing him so in love with another woman, and then because he had the nerve to kiss you and fuck you while not even thinking of you at all.

“You know I love you! And yet you said fuck-all to me when Nayeon was around, you stopped talking to me or calling me or texting me or listening to me because you were too goggly-eyed for her! And I tried! I tried to understand, Jungsoo.” He was looking at you with a defiant expression on his face, clearly not wanting to acknowledge the truth in what you were saying. “I told myself that you were in love, that it was only natural for you to put that and her over me. But you––” Your voice broke under the force of your anger, and you had to stop for a second before you could continue.

“––you think you can just call me over to comfort you, kiss me knowing full well how I feel about you, fuck me to lick your wounds after Nayeon left you because you know you can get me to comply easily, and then say it was all just a mistake and that you weren’t thinking straight?” You clenched your fists to stop yourself from standing up and shrieking at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Why is it all me?” Jungsoo shot back, his voice rising. “I seem to remember that you weren’t exactly trying to stop me, were you? You were just as much a part of it as I was, Y/N! And you don’t get to say it now like I’m the one with all the fault here! Not when you kissed me back and let me lay you on the bed and let me f––” He stopped himself, but you had already heard enough.

“I did those things because I love you!” you spat. “Because I’ve been wanting you to touch me like that for so long! Even when I know you were thinking of Nayeon the entire time, I let you fuck me because it was the only way I’d ever come anywhere remotely close to you returning my feelings!” You clenched your jaw, seething at him. “And you knew that, you piece of shit! You knew I’d think like that and let you kiss me, and touch me, because you know full well how I feel about you! That’s why you kissed me. Because you needed easy, cheap comfort and I was the perfect thing you could use to get it!” You stared at him. “Is that all I am to you? Your plaything to ignore when it suits you and toy around with when your poor feelings need––”

“It was a fucking hook-up, okay?” Jungsoo shouted. “That’s all it was, so just – just stop making it into something you can use to cause a fuss, okay? Just forget it!” He snapped his mouth shut. Something like regret at his harsh outburst seemed to flash in his eyes, but you didn’t see it, didn’t want to see it. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing – Park Jungsoo, your best friend since adolescence, was really going to sweep last night under the rug. He was really willing to pretend that you two hadn’t crossed an impossible line, that he had kissed you and fucked you and used your feelings for him to make himself feel better. He wasn’t going to apologize, he wasn’t going to talk about it, he wasn’t going to make any effort to take responsibility.

And you – you were done. You were done being considerate of him, you were done putting a damper on your feelings for his sake, you were done being hurt by him over and over and over again and still crawling back with the flimsy, all-too-pathetic excuse that you loved him. You were done with him, and whatever was left between the two of you.

“Fine,” you said, standing up. “Fine, I’ll forget it. I’ll forget it for you, so you do something for me too, Jungsoo. You go back to the past three years when you skirted around me and ignored me and treated me like a nobody. You go back to not bothering with me, not contacting me, not listening to or giving a damn about a word that I say. Live your life without me like you did with Nayeon. Don’t you dare think of me, and don’t you dare step foot anywhere near me.”

You picked up your purse and stormed from the apartment, slamming the door. As you stomped down the hallway, you heard the door open again, and Jungsoo call out your name. You sped up your gait and didn’t look back.

You never went back to Jungsoo’s apartment. He tried calling, texting, even meeting you, but you avoided all his attempts. You didn’t want to see his face, and you weren’t sure you’d ever want to again, even until you died.

That day in his home was the end of a long chapter of your life. Your friendship with Jungsoo was no more, and when anyone asked about it you simply said that things had changed. The text message he sent you a month and a half after the incident was the last exchange the two of you shared.

[Jungsoo 😇 – 3:46 A.M.] I’m sorry.

[Jungsoo 😇 – 3:47 A.M.] I was wrong.

[Jungsoo 😇 – 3:47 A.M.] I miss you.

[Jungsoo 😇 – 3:47 A.M.] …don’t you miss me?

[You – 7:59 A.M.] I’d rather be insane.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 104: The Woes of Mrs. Weasley

There was a ghastly smell filling her nose, but Lily quickly found she had trouble moving in any direction, let alone away from it. There was movement all around her, her companions all coughing away a fair bit of dust as well as that foul odor mingling with it, but then her skin began to crawl and real panic lit in her core as she saw an eighth person. There were only eight of them, there shouldn't be an extra person moving when she was stuck!

It was vaguely human-shaped, and the smell was reeking right from it as it passed along between them all. Not attacking, at least nobody was screaming, but not helping either. Just gliding along with an odd rattling noise and befouling their senses.

Lily finally managed to wrench a hand free, and found it came out of a pants leg. A quick lumos spell had her eyes dazzling in the tiny space, and the illumination wasn't much better than it smelled.

She was in a large trunk filled to the brim with clothes no decent person would ever consider wearing with as much lace it contained. Potter was a few feet to her side, his glasses askew and at a very awkward angle as he found himself tangled up in old bed sheets. Alice and Frank were helping each other to their feet while picking glass out of their hands, they seemed to have landed in an ancient old display of cups and plates and broken the majority of them. Lupin and Sirius Black were in the farthest back corner where old pipes were visible and trying their best to get free without breaking one loose, while Pettigrew and Regulus Black had knocked over an old dresser, scattering the entire room in photographs, the bright fluorescent Weasley hair in all ages the brightest thing here. It was the ghoul that still held all attention though.

The skin seemed to be dripping right off of it, leaving foul puddles of the stuff over everything, including them now. There was one half of a dead rat clenched in one hand, and a chunk of the poor rodent in the gap in its teeth. The eyes were unintelligent though, and Lily easily recalled her lessons on ghouls at once. Harmless, household pests.

"Someone kill me now," the attic, it must be where they were, was too small for Lupin's voice not to carry. "I can't live with this stench while waiting for the next catastrophe in that book." He'd finally gotten his ankle twisted painfully enough he could extract his torso out of the pipes and crawl free.

"Cheer up Moony," Sirius Black returned cheerfully, as he had to very awkwardly and carefully dance on his toes to avoid the pipe between his legs while following him out. "Sure the place smells, but we're not back at Grimmauld! That's more of an improvement than we've yet had with this bloody book of Harry's."

"I'll take your bedroom over this place," his voice came out a bit muffled now as he spoke while plugging up his nose, eyes racking longingly over every surface for a chance at fresh air.

"Blasphemy," his friend scolded, while now scouring every inch of the place himself to find said book it seemed.

Everyone was now doing so in earnest, it wasn't just the werewolf who wanted away from this puke-inducing area. It seemed to have hidden itself away well this time though, and in exasperation Lily took another rank breath first to say the accio spell.

At first Lily just saw movement, the book being darker than the shadows shooting right up from behind the chest she'd been in nearly made her scream in fright before it landed in her hand. She frowned down at the ruddy thing, it just had to be black didn't it? You could barely see the violet five flickering by her wand light.

"Like a hand Evans?" Potter was at her shoulder and drawing his wand even as he spoke.

She frowned at him, but chose not to answer, he'd do as he would with or without her approval, as she cracked it open and flipped through the blank pages until she came across where the new chapter began. "The Woes of Mrs. Weasley."

"The woman has seven kids, I'd imagine her woes would fill a dozen books," Alice frowned in sympathy.

"Eight if you count Harry," Sirius Black added in, causing both her and Frank to startle a bit. It wasn't a large attic and there would be no whispered conversations here.

The ghoul suddenly seemed like the good news.

Harry wasn't the only one shocked at Dumbledore's strange behaviour, and that was really something given his start-of-term speeches. Lily couldn't imagine why he hadn't so much as looked at Harry during the trial, let alone completely dismissed his existence immediately after it.

"Well, he did ignore Arthur too, does that make it better?" Potter was apparently going to be reading over her shoulder while hefting his wand for light, and she scowled down at the pages. She'd rather go blind trying to read in the dark, couldn't Alice come over and offer to take his place?

'Well, better him than a Malfoy,' she supposed. It wasn't a generous trade, but as he loomed over her at least she wasn't afraid of him. Lucius hanging around in the Ministry however, after what he'd done to Harry, and off to have a private chat with the Minister over obvious bribery and gold! It was despicable how casually the Minister was cavorting!

Harry at least got a party out of the ordeal, the amount of those could probably be counted on one hand as festivities at Grimmauld Place were thrown for Harry's freedom from that looming problem.

"The best party that house has ever hosted!" Sirius Black cheered, even pumping his fist before it banged against the ceiling and he shook his fingers out.

Regulus couldn't help but agree with his brother's sentiment, mother's parties were always dreadfully dull. Hearing of the Weasley twins' and Ginny's dance really did sound amusing and he was half surprised the Marauder idiots weren't trying to recreate it here.

Such rabble wasn't to last though, as none of the Marauders seemed in the spirit for it. Even if they had reached a general plateau of not avoiding each other, they didn't yet seem up to going to the feat of interacting much either. Regulus wasn't going to complain about that, as Peter tugged on his sleeve and showed him a hilarious picture of who must be a young Charlie Weasley in a dragon onesie.

Sirius and Remus actually shuffled even further away from each other uncomfortably, as it was Hermione who reacted to seeing Harry's scar start to pain him, the whole of the Weasleys who were looking after Harry. Why was it was always Harry's friends, another family entirely instead of the one Harry should have, who had been mentioned in that house, and still didn't seem to be going out of their way to even watch him like Prongs would want? It was no wonder even this disgusting-smelling attic felt more comfortable to be in than Grimmauld Place, it's not like Harry had anyone there looking out for him apparently.

James finally looked away from the light making Evans's hair a waterfall of red and instead looked once more to Sirius in concern as he shut himself away in that house, with only his hippogriff for company. No Moony skulking around the place, apparently, to talk to him? Certainly no him or Wormtail to try cheering him up in there.

Sirius Black wasn't the most approachable bloke, Lily could certainly agree with that and didn't blame Harry one bit for sharing his feelings with his friends rather than his godfather, but she found herself peeking at Potter out of the corner of her eye and suddenly wishing that would change as he kept shuffling about, making the light move with him, eyeing his mate with clear worry.

Sirius was the only connection to this idiot Harry would ever have, and she certainly would have at least tried to help her boy with that if she had any feelings for either idiot herself. What the hell was she supposed to do though, make friends with Potter and Black for Harry's sake? That would be going with the operation of this future existing, something she was still not convinced would come to pass, not if she had anything to say about it.

So Potter wasn't as big a tosser as she always thought, he was at least a human idiotic teenager rather than the biggest waste of space to exist. That didn't mean she'd marry the bugger and have this kid and these would be her problems.

Lily was quite glad she was the one reading as Hermione attacked Sirius personally for his sanity once more, she kept calm and read in an even, refrained voice, not giving a hint away one way or the other how she felt about it. Certainly none of the boys present could have managed the same, as they'd all made their opinion on that quite clear. Yes, she'd rather wondered about it all herself only two books ago back when he'd supposedly been a mass murderer, but well, just because he hadn't done that crime didn't mean he was all there in the head either. Growing up in that house, it would be a miracle if he was all there, and now he was forced into it twenty-four seven while having to listen to the Order bring in reports? She may have gone a touch mad herself.

Alice smiled privately, still far enough away from Potter's light and standing half behind Frank no one saw or even seemed to notice the development. The boys were all being quite vocal about how sane Sirius Black was to be keeping himself right where he was by choice, obviously a madman wouldn't be able to rationalize that, even Frank and Regulus Black couldn't argue that. Lily wasn't doing as good a job as she thought she was keeping her indifference out of her tone.

The mood was so sour as she plowed through she nearly read right over the development of Ron and Hermione being made Prefects. Then she stopped and backpedaled to smile at just how, human, Harry's reaction to it all was.

Lily would guiltily admit before now she'd had trouble separating the two Potters but that was forever ruined by his chastising himself for his slightly petty thoughts, and even genuinely congratulating Ron whom didn't think he deserved it himself.

James Potter only reinforced the difference as he puffed up his chest behind her, knocking into her shoulder as he shouted loud enough for all of the hills beyond to hear. "Course Harry didn't get that badge, no son of mine would be caught dead with such a thing!"

"Just his friends, it fits rather well," Lupin drawled with an eye roll. He had not been wearing his own when all of this started, and honestly Lily forgot he was one half the time, he never made a fuss about it, certainly not regarding his friends.

James Potter flashed him a grin and Lily quickly brought the book up to her nose to hide her smile at the exchange, damn her. When had watching the idiot go from infuriating to laughable?

At least practically everyone important to the story all in that kitchen came as good distraction for everyone as yet another party was being thrown there. Why couldn't they have appeared during that? With food and a pleasant banner rather than the ghoul finishing off the rat, the tail now stuck between its teeth.

Alice felt a flash of white-hot anger as Mad-Eye Moody appeared and gave Harry the opposite of a treat, no matter what that old auror said. Showing him a picture of her and Frank, his own parents, all the dead from his past all at once. Every single person in that photo was either dead, or probably wishing they were for the torments they went through. It was quite the mood killer.

James Potter had been hovering over her shoulder for so long now, she'd almost been able to completely ignore he was there, until he reached over and yanked the book out of her hands in shock. "What blasphemy is this! Moony, you stop telling lies to my kid!"

"What? What do I say?" Lupin asked curiously, but Lily reached over and snagged the book back with a frown at him.

"Mind your manners Potter, or you'll find yourself sitting on that ghoul's lap until we're free of here." She promised. His mouth was still hanging open in shock as she read the news that Lupin had been a prefect, but James Potter had been made Head Boy, and then stopped herself, wondering who had gone mad in that school to allow such a thing.*

"That was mentioned ages ago you dimwits," Regulus Black scoffed at all the shocked faces. "Hagrid mentioned it the very first time he met Harry, you're the Head Girl Evans."

"How do you remember that?" Sirius dragged his eyes away from James to frown at his odd little brother. Admittedly, they'd been rather distracted at the time just adjusting to all this insanity and not everything had stuck.

"I pay attention," he shot back with an eye roll, causing Peter to snicker quietly. He'd been about to say the same thing as Regulus.

"Well, well what I said still stands," Potter finally brushed off his surprise and smiled invitingly at his crush once more. "Head Boy is far more of a responsible job than a ruddy old Prefect. What do you say Evans, shall we practice those long, alone hours patrolling the school when we get back? Just so we've got plenty of practice."

Lily gave him a withering look and took several steps away, out of arm's reach once more as she pleasantly went back to ignoring him.

James sighed but respected that, he'd been silently dancing in his head she'd allowed him so close this whole time and decided not to press his luck as he raised his wand even higher aloft so she could still see.

The party began dwindling down though, and everyone snapped back to attention with worry when Harry followed Molly out as if up to bed early. Her 'woes' hadn't exactly been made prominent through this exposition chapter, so some heartfelt talk was likely about to crop up instead.

What instead transpired was far more ghastly than even the ghoul could manage. Her worst fears of watching her family die in front of her, one right after the other, even Harry.

Nobody had any smart-aleck remarks for that, each of them had already lost something to this war in their own time, and these books had long proved they'd have even more to lose. Professor Lupin and the godfather swooped in to the rescue by banishing the boggart, but the damage was long done to them.

Lily read Harry's final thoughts with a kinship to everyone in this room. Voldemort had to be stopped before any more families were destroyed.

HPHPHPHPHP

I'm really proud of how this chapter works out metaphorically as well as literally. The chapter's mostly about the Weasley's, hence the location of where they store all their things, but also Harry feels really separated from everyone even in the midst of them, he might as well be up in the attic during the party.

*This actually isn't mentioned in the chapter, but I didn't react to it back when it was, so lets pretend Remus slipped that in yeah?

[katymacsupernatural]

Wishing I Could Tell You

Dean Winchester x Reader

1200 Words

Written For: @spngenrebingo​

Square Filled: Break Up

Summary: It’s always hard to find the words when things are tough. Especially when you know it’s going to break Dean’s heart.

Warnings: Angst

The bottle of whiskey sat there, mocking you. It was empty and had been for quite some time now. Your head ached, and your stomach rumbled in protest of the whiskey now nestled in your stomach. But it wasn’t enough to put your mind at ease. But you knew nothing would. 

Both Sam and Dean were gone, and you were utterly grateful for the reprieve. It gave you a moment to think, to plan. Even though that was the last thing you wanted to do. Because then you would have to make a decision. A decision that would cause so much pain.

“Damn it,” You muttered, hastily wiping away a tear. “I’m such a freaking idiot.”

Pushing away from the table, you began pacing the library, your heart racing as you imagined what was going to happen when they returned. If you would finally be brave enough to…

“Honey, we’re home!” Dean called out, bounding down the stairs, grocery bags in his hands. His green eyes twinkled as he tossed you a candy bar. “Miss me?”

“Of course,” you whispered, not the happy tone he was expecting. His step stuttered before he continued on, Sam right behind him. Sam raised an eyebrow your way before following his brother to the kitchen. You slowly followed behind, your heart thumping so loudly you thought they could hear it. 

Both brothers were arguing as they put the groceries away. It wasn’t a heated argument, but one of fun. A brotherly jest. Normally you would have stood back and listened, enjoying the way the two brothers enjoyed each other’s company. But not today. You couldn’t handle it today.

Peering around the corner, you saw Dean placing the beer in the fridge, the red, white and grey flannel stretching taut across his shoulders. Sam was carefully arranging the dry ingredients in the pantry. It was a homey scene, normal, which was unusual in this household. And it made everything that much harder. 

“Dean, can I talk to you,” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. But with the bickering going on between Sam and Dean it went unheard. 

Your courage gone, you raced back to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, tears wracking your body. You couldn’t go through with it. Not face to face anyways. Hastily wiping away tears, you went to your nightstand, pulling out the notebook you always kept there, along with a pen.

“Dear Dean,” you started but stopped immediately. You had no idea what to write. What words would match your thoughts? 

“Going somewhere?” Dean asked, his voice blank of emotion as he leaned in the door frame. You knew how things looked. Your suitcase full on the bed, you sitting here writing a letter. 

The second you turned to face him, everything became clear to him. He took a deep breath, his jaw clenched tight as he steeled himself to a fact you hated to admit. You were leaving him, much like he thought everyone in his life would. And it was killing you inside. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “But I have to go.”

He refused to move from beside the door, the shadows offering his emotions security of darkness. “Why? You were just going to leave with only a note?”

You crumped up the paper, tossing it into the trash, wishing you didn’t have to do this. “I tried talking to you. But you were with Sam, and this is so hard. I just..,”

He finally stepped forward, his hands tight in fists as he struggled to control his emotions. “You’re going to blame this on me?”

You shook your head quickly. “Of course not. It’s all on me. Dean, you’ve been amazing, and I love..I’ll always love you. But I need to go,” you tried explaining, knowing you couldn’t say much more than that.

He rolled his jaw around, the muscles twitching. “You love me, but yet you’re leaving me. Something doesn’t sound right.”

You let out a choked sob, your composure cracking with each moment you stayed here. “Dean, please. If you love me, you’ll let me go.”

He stepped to the side, leaving the path to the door clear. “Fine. Go. But if you walk through those doors, don’t expect to ever come back. Understand? You’re burning your only bridge here.”

Sniffling, you pulled your suitcase off the bed. You peered up at Dean, but he refused to look at you. “Dean,” you tried once more. “Being with you. It was the best part of my life. And I hope, in time that you’ll forgive me.”

He laughed, but it was cold and distant. “Y/N, you’re leaving, and you’re taking my heart with you. How the hell am I supposed to forgive that?”

“Maybe, in time, you’ll see,” you answered softly. Stopping at the door, you glanced back at him one more time, before heading to the garage. Your little hatchback was parked off to the side, and you shoved your suitcase in, your vision blurred by tears as you climbed in the front seat. It took three attempts to stick the key in the ignition, and you hastily wiped away the tears.

You half hoped that Dean would come running into the garage, stopping you before you left. But it stayed empty, and you guided your car out of the garage, and down the country road. 

Your phone rang, and you answered it, your heart racing. “Are you done?” The female voice with the distinctive British accent asked.

“Yes,” you sniffled.

“Good. Right on time too. Head to the meetup location,” she ordered before hanging up the phone.

The meetup location was only ten minutes away, on the other side of town. Right beside the small airport. You could see the small jet, the steps already down, ready to fly you away from this life you had enjoyed so much. Back to a life that made Hell seem nice.

The slim blonde woman smiled as you approached. “Well done. It seems you infiltrated the Winchesters nicely.”

“That bridge is burned now,” you answered, trying to keep your emotions under control. This group didn’t do emotions.

“Oh I doubt it,” she chuckled. “Dean Winchester is infatuated with you. But we have all we need for now. So back you go.”

“I thought,” you spoke quickly, the thoughts of what you were going back to enough that you wanted to run. Run back to Dean and hope he could protect you. “After this, I could…,”

“What? Be redeemed? Y/N, darling, you will never be redeemed. You and your family will always be outcasts. Just because you seduced Dean Winchester doesn’t change that. Now, you’ll head back, and be that quiet little pipsqueak once again. Understood?”

You nodded, entering the jet, tears streaming slightly down your face. As the jet taxied down the runway, you searched for a black Impala, hoping that Dean would once again save the day.

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