#and literally anyone else who comes to mind

[this-is-exorsexism]

My therapist getting uncomfortable with my it/its pronouns and then getting visibly upset when I counter with, "And in the beginning, God made the Earth, and said it was good." "The ultimate commandment was given - love thy neighbor as you love thyself - and it is the foundation of the world." And then when told not to use religion to justify decisions I'm uncomfortable with (ma'am I am very comfortable with this), my literature-major ass shot back, "Love endures. Time may erase records of it, but the heart remembers everything. It happened, therefore it mattered." "Justice is not a concept, it is a verb that comes alive in your actions. If it is present in your heart, it will be reflected in your conduct."

And then she told me I was being difficult, misgendered me, and ultimately sent me an email after the session today saying I need to find a new therapist who "is willing to enable" me.

All because my pronouns are uncomfortable to her even though I tie them, in my mind, to creation, to love, to justice, and to the planet Earth. Dehumanizing myself is unhealthy, I'm told. Apparently viewing my pronouns in terms of ideals that drive me forward and the planet I live on is unhealthy. I should instead be using they/them, pronouns that remind me of side characters in stories, of people in hypotheticals, of things that make me uncomfortable, because other people's comfort should be my priority. In fact, giving up on advocating for myself and instead prioritizing literally anyone except myself is, I am given to understand, the "healthy" way to act.

Compromise is a virtue - to a point. The dosage makes the poison. Compromise where I cut myself down so no one else has to be made uneasy by my standing tall is not healthy. That is also not what I deserve. If I were to turn to her and say, "I'm sorry, I think she/her is dehumanizing", I don't think there's a soul out there who would defend that.

I sent her back an email saying I was sorry that I was not able to convey my points clearly, but that I was glad she understood she's a bad fit for me. I don't need someone who makes my therapy sessions about herself. That's unprofessional, emotionally needy and childish, and I will not enable that.

this is exorsexism.

[bippot]

Talkative

Story Summary -> Mike Wheeler had no idea why Y/N was allowed to be in Hellfire. She just took up all the time he could've been using to talk about, you know, what he wanted to. Maybe she was let in because of Eddie's very obvious soft spot for her? Or maybe it's because the other members genuinely like her? Who knows, but one thing is for sure: her not talking to him drives Eddie insane.

Tags -> Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Mike Wheeler is a little bitch sometimes

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mike had heard it before. So many times, in fact. Literally so many. Y/N had been yapping away about how excited she was for the next Hellfire session for ages - well, since the last one. He had lost count of how many times he'd had to block her out. It was just over and over again. Word after word. Nothing but endless monologues of how cool she thought the direction Eddie was taking the campaign in was.

Or she'd talk about whatever movie she'd just seen. Or something interesting she'd read in an article. It seemed as if she'd just talk about whatever was on her mind, and if the other person showed enthusiasm or interest, they'd make it a full-blown conversation. (You know how two-way interactions tend to go.) And he had been left wondering why the hell Eddie even bothered to let her into the party. She was insufferable.

Nobody else seemed to mind it. It's just that Mike seemed to be under the impression that Y/N was talking up valuable speaking time. Speaking time that he could've been using to talk about El or Will or how weird it was that Lucas couldn't hang out after school today because he had basketball practice. Or...you get the gist. Anyone else could and should be speaking about what he wanted to hear, not whatever fucking dribble Y/N was spouting.

The current 'dribble' was Y/N excitedly gushing to Dustin about the upcoming Billy Joel album that was supposed to come out sometime in July. Mike sat quietly, resting his elbows on the lunch table, flicking between half listening to Y/N and dramatically eye-rolling at Gareth, who was paying the younger boy very little attention.

Billy Joel wasn't something that the members of Corroded Coffin were interested in, but Y/N and Dustin liked him so they'd be courteous. Plus, seeing the two geek out about music was nice. Yet, as most know, Mike isn't overly courteous. For some reason, he felt the need to keep interrupting it. That need only grew with every interruption.

"Jesus, Y/N, do you ever pause for breath?" Mike asked, half laughing and half irritated. "I don't think you've taken a break in the past twenty minutes."

Y/N let out a nervous laugh and immediately apologised in a quiet voice, "Sorry, guys. How were your weekends?" as she deflected the conversation onto them now and swallowed the new sense of shame that Mike had stirred up. Immediately, Mike jumped at the chance to talk about what El had told him in one of her letters. Now this was a topic he liked. This was a worthwhile topic.

That little snide comment never would've made it out of Wheeler's mouth if Eddie had been there. He was currently preoccupied with a drug deal, so anything was free game. Munson had a tendency to let Y/N drone on and on because of that tiny (actually huge and obvious) crush he had on her. All members of Hellfire knew of their leader's infatuation with little Miss Chatterbox, well, except Y/N. It was so plain for everyone else to see. He'd listen so intently, always resting his head on his hand as he gazed at her with longing. He'd ask her endless questions about whatever, even if he had no idea what she was on about.

Any chance to get her to speak more, he took. So when he arrived midway through lunch and greeted, "Hey, Lady Folksworth," and she didn't immediately respond with 'Just Alais is fine,' he knew something was up. It was something she always said. In and out of game. Lady Folksworth, her highborn ranger, hated being called Lady Folksworth. Y/N just gave him a small wave and continued with her food, listening and encouragingly nodding every now and again, but not another sound from her was heard.

Weird. That was weird.

From that moment on, Eddie noticed how little Y/N had said for the rest of the day. Maybe she was on an off day. Tomorrow would be fine. She'd be back to normal tomorrow.

Tomorrow was a smidge louder. Y/N seemed to engage in the conversation at lunch. Then Mike rolled his eyes at something she said.

Apologetically, she asked, "Sorry, did I speak over you, Wheeler?"

"Not the first time. Don't worry, Y/N. We're used to it."

Somehow he managed to play it off as if it were a friendly jab, but they both knew he meant it. Y/N laughed it off originally. She soon decided to shut up once more.

Mike managed to do that every day that week. He'd make some offhanded comment about how talkative she was, essentially shaming her into silence and switching so he could be the one who was talking. And she let him. Why not? He was just a kid. A kid who clearly needs attention. Just give it to him, and he'll start being nice to her. Right?

Wrong. The next session was when Y/N gave up trying to reel back her natural mouthy-ness by becoming a borderline mute at lunch.

Eddie had let the party into the Hellfire room early so they could come up with a battle strategy. Y/N had been a little late and heard from the other side of the door as Mike exclaimed to the other members, "...and honestly, sometimes I wish I could cast an eternal silence on Y/N so she'd just let someone else get a word in for once and..."

She stood in the doorway, just listening in for a moment. It was technically eavesdropping, but still, she was supposed to already be in the room, and she wasn't. If anything, it was Mike's fault for talking about someone he knew was going to arrive soon. From the little window, she saw as the other boys unpacked their bags and sat down, mostly paying Mike's little ramble no attention, which was comforting.

Yet he continued, "She's probably talking the ears off some unlucky guy that has to hear her drone on and on about... about whatever it is she talks about. I don't even listen anymore. Cause, it's like, is it interesting? No. Do we care? No. Not at all. Would this party be better without her?" He paused. "Who's to say?"

Better off without her? The boys wanted the session to just be that, the boys. That's fine. She'd let them do that. It's not as if Hellfire was the best part of her week or anything. Y/N turned and walked away, making a beeline towards the car park. She didn't want to listen to any more, which also meant that she didn't hear as the other boys disagreed with what Mike said.

Dustin actually smacked Mike around the back of his head and reminded his buddy, "You're doing the exact same thing with Y/N as you did to Max. Just because El isn't here doesn't mean another girl can't be cool and interesting."

"Yeah, Y/N's cool. She bought my lunch today since Daniel Oliver stole my money," Gareth admitted, giving Mike a disapproving look.

"Oh, she did that for me last week," Jeff added. "Then she almost got her ass kicked when she tried to steal it back off Danny-boy."

Since her feet were carrying her faster than her brain could comprehend, Y/N managed to bump into someone as she hurried to her car. Eddie held his arms out to steady her, but she was in no mood to be soothed. 

"Hellfire is the other way, Lady Folksworth."

She huffed out, "I know where Hellfire is; thank you very much. I'll-"

"Hey, hey, what's up?" She didn't want to talk. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be quiet, so she didn't answer him for a moment. The silence was broken as she heard him say, "Y/N, what's wrong?" with genuine concern laced in his voice.

"My grandpa just died," she blurted out, not even knowing why she said it. The words were simply leaving her mouth as she felt her lie fall flat.

He knew her better than that. "Which one? The one that's already dead or the other one that's already dead?" He countered, crossing his arms, not believing her lie in the slightest.

Shit. He'd caught her. There were two options in her mind. Go further or change course. "Well, he was like an old guy who was a family friend... you know, he was a non-grandpa," she furthered, walking away from him towards her car. "And I have a headache."

"I'm pretty sure I have an aspirin. Not my usual supply, but I'm bound to have one."

"No...no. I'm fine. Not fine enough to stay. Not that fine, but... I should go."

But there was no way in hell that was going to happen: she wasn't going to get away with these awful fibs. Without having to try too hard, he took a few long strides, making it in front of her in no time and placing his hands on her shoulders to gently push her in the opposite direction.

"Y/N."

"Eddie?"

"Tell me the truth."

Okay. It was time to change course. She used an ancient female tactic that has a tendency to get you out of doing things. Gym. Sex. Chores. All types of shit.

"I'm on my period."

It wasn't exactly a lie either. Maybe that's why Mike's words got to her so much this week? Huh, crazy.

"Ohh," he replied sympathetically, "The offer of painkillers still stands," and just like that, he was being so nice about it. "Name anything, and I'll get it for you. I'll go to the store down the street and be back in no time."

Her heart fluttered. It wasn't every day a boy was so understanding. He didn't even act grossed out by it like they usually did. He actually didn't make a big deal out of it. So, she couldn't help herself and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to give him the biggest, warmest hug she could manage. He hugged her back, closing his eyes to savour the moment.

"You're a good egg," she whispered, squeezing him a smidge. His face was bright red, but that's fine. She wouldn't be able to see it if he buried his face in her hair. "Ed, you can let go now if you want to."

"I don't want to," he chuckled, pulling her tighter to him and refusing to budge. He even started to shift his weight from left to right so they'd begin swaying slowly side to side, making her giggle, which entirely was his intention.

There was something about her giggle that just filled him with an immense sense of joy. It always turned his day around: he felt lighter, happier, and more energetic. It didn't even matter what he was doing. He couldn't understand it. One moment he was feeling listless and miserable. The next, she would start laughing, and then he'd be good and giddy. It was like magic.

Unknowingly, she had been playing with the strand of hair at the nape of his neck, and the moment she realised, she stopped and reminded him, "Hellfire is waiting for their handsome and charismatic Dungeon Master to arrive."

Oh shit. He'd forgotten about that. He'd been so focused on her, he'd forgotten to do his job. It was a serious breach of protocol. But, in this moment, he didn't care. Leaning back so he could see in her face if she lied, he shyly enquired, "You think I'm handsome?"

"Yeah, Ed, I do," she answered seriously, without even the smallest hint of a smirk. It was like she really meant it, and, boy, was he relieved. She really did think he was handsome.

Well shit, his fucking face was heating up again. How the hell did she have this kind of effect on him? And he'd never have guessed that it would've gotten worse as he complimented her back, "Oh, cool. Yeah, that's nice. You're, uh, you're handsome too - I mean pretty. Girls are pretty. I know you're not supposed to call a girl handsome. You're really pretty, Y/N."

Really. Not only was she both handsome and pretty, but she was also 'really pretty'. That last part made him wince a little as he admitted it, but it was worth it for the look on her face. It was the happiest he'd seen her in a while, which made his own face even brighter. It almost made her forget about what Mike had said.

Almost.

She looked away, her lips upturned in a coy grin, but didn't internalise what he'd said. That could wait till later. That could wait until she was in the privacy of her car so she could let out a really unflattering squeal. The urge to do so was increasing every second that she was still in his grasp, so she slowly backed up, innocently letting her hands trail down his shoulders and chest as she moved away.

Bashfully, she tucked some hair behind her ear as she let out, "You can call me handsome if you want to. I don't mind it. Honestly, I was going to say that your hair looked pretty when I saw you this morning, but I didn't want to, I don't know, freak you out or anything."

"You were worried about freaking out the freak?"

"Something like that." She looked down at her shoes for a moment. "Anyway, I better go. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, uh... yeah, see you, Y/N."

He watched as she started to walk away, only to turn around and hurry back, claiming, "Oh, I forgot to do this," and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for being so sweet."

Blushing, he nervously beamed, "Yeah, oh, yeah, you're welcome. Totally welcome," and couldn't help but distract himself from the fact that his cheek felt like it was burning and his head was spinning over the mere contact of her lips on his skin by focusing on her figure as she made it out of his field of vision and towards the parking lot.

Okay. Okay, he needed to calm down before he arrived in Hellfire. The boys would surely tease him if he turned up looking like a freshly picked tomato. It's always a good idea to make an entrance, and that definitely would throw them off long enough that he could return his focus to his second true love, D&D. Opening the door wide and announcing, "My dear boys, we may be one maiden down, and while Alais's absence will render the dynamic a little askew, she will be sorely missed until the next session, but we must press on. So, boys, it's time." 

Eddie immediately sauntered to his chair and waited for his disciples to prepare themselves. He always tried to make his entrances as elaborate as possible. The more attention to where he wanted it to be directed, the better.

Dustin piped up to ask, "Wait, Y/N's not here? I swear she said she was coming earlier."

"She felt ill."

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Eddie swore he heard Mike whisper to himself, "Thank God."

"Anyway, we must press on, gentlemen, without interruption," Eddie said, putting a finger to his lips to still Mike's rising protests.

Despite being one member down, the boys got on with it. Although they could all tell that the party was a little disjointed without their beloved Lady Folksworth. It wasn't that she was the most experienced member, though she might have been the most enthusiastic, but she was the one who kept them on their toes. It wasn't everyday that the Archduke Zariel of Avernus visited the mortal realm. There wasn't a whole lot to prepare for, but somehow, when Y/N was around, it felt like there were a million things to do.

Ultimately, it was a difficult battle (that may have been a slight bit easier if had seven PC's like Eddie had planned), but the boys (Dustin) managed to come up with an ingenious plan to kill the fallen angel and prevent her from returning for now.

The next day, when Gareth and Jeff had walked up to Eddie while he was at his locker, the older boy remarked, "Hellfire last night was quieter, don't you think? It wasn't as high energy as usual."

"That's because Alais was missing," Gareth pointed out, knowing full well that Eddie had been missing Y/N's presence. Even in the session, he seemed a bit preoccupied, a bit concerned if she was okay.

He'd even planned to buy a bunch of stuff she liked and show up unannounced at her house to be like, "Hey! I know I'm a gross, stinky boy and I don't get this period thing, but I hope this helps," but what if her dad were there and just assumed Eddie was making moves on his daughter? Which wouldn't have been completely incorrect. Yet, this was a move out of worry, not lust.

Plus, as soon as the other boys heard, he'd never get away from the teasing. Showing up to Y/N's house with a period care package? That would prove he was totally whipped. Totally. They weren't even dating, and he was completely and utterly wrapped around her finger.

Jeff decided to tease, "I'm sure Eddie was fully aware that Y/N wasn't there to play footsie under the table with him."

"I don't know what you're implying, Jeffrey," Eddie responded dryly. He one hundred percent knew what was being implied. That girl was his favourite thing in the world, and he would have done anything to be with her.

"Well, I'm sure we won't catch you gazing so lovingly at her at lunch again," Gareth said, resting his head on his fist and staring wistfully into the distance as he did his best impression of Eddie.

"Why, fair Y/N, why won't you accept my love? Is it the hair? Should I change it?" Jeff said in an exaggerated, disappointed voice.

Eddie was used to this at this point. He just usually just went along with it, but today he had an update. "I highly doubt it's the hair; she told me she thinks it looks pretty."

"Oooh, did you hear that, Jeff? She said his hair looks pretty."

"I wonder how long we'll be hearing about that one for."

"Remember when she said she liked the shirt he was wearing and he didn't take it off for almost a week?"

Gareth and Jeff burst out laughing. Eddie shrugged it off and turned the conversation back onto Hellfire. What he didn't realise was that Y/N was just about to walk up to him as he declared, "Even though she has a charisma mod of minus two, Alais is a complete chatterbox. That's probably why we could hear ourselves think last night," but she walked away, not wanting to hear if he pulled a Mike.

Mike getting annoyed at her voice was fine. It hurt a little, but she'd get over it. Eddie, on the other hand, that stung. He usually was nice and kind and pretty and sweet and chivalrous and totally cool and out of her league and was great at guitar and had the cutest eyes she'd ever seen, so the thought that she could be annoying him caused her to double down on the quietness thing.

Frankly, if Eddie had said anything actually mean, she would probably start crying and never stop. He was the sweetest guy she knew, and sometimes she felt that there was something going on between them when he would look at her for a second too long, or the amount of times he would force her into hugging him, and they would stay like that for what felt like an eternity, just as he'd done the night before.

Or, if she'd ask for advantage when they were playing, she'd say, "Eddie, if you wanted to be a good, no, a great Dungeon Master, you'd give me advantage right now," in the softest voice she could, and he'd give her that look of 'you know this isn't one of your characters abilities' but would say yes anyway.

As a result, Y/N kept mostly to herself that day. In any of the classes she had with her friends, she said hello and then made it seem like she was intensely interested in whatever the teacher was saying, which wasn't true. Eddie couldn't help but notice how she didn't even say anything other than "Hey" to him the entire day.

Tomorrow came and it was the same. And the day after that. And after that. And then the whole week. He had no idea how long periods lasted, but this was hell. Two weeks went by, and she barely said a word to him.

Actually, he was kind of offended.

It's not like he was planning on asking her to the movies, which they'd done so many times before, but he was going to make it obvious that there was going to be nothing platonic about this invitation. Well, that's what he thought last time they went, yet he didn't manage to follow through.

The moment they had before Hellfire had given him enough of an idea that she could like him. It was a possibility. She'd fucking kissed him, after all. Although it was on the cheek and she could've just been overly friendly and emotional because of, you know, the monthly blood monster. But maybe she liked him? That was a definite possibility.

Now she was ignoring him. You don't ignore somebody you're into. Or do you? Was she playing the hard-to-get move? No. Y/N wouldn't pull that. Would she?

Maybe she knew he liked her and didn't want to upset him when he found out she was going after someone else. That was his exact thought when he 'bumped' into her on the weekend at Family Video and saw her joyfully talking to Steve like she used to with him. She'd looked so happy then, so carefree, as she gestured wildly as she spoke about the movie Clue.

Apparently, Harrington hadn't seen it, so Y/N was giving him a rundown about the Tim Curry flick, telling him all about how Eddie had taken her to go and see it in the cinema the year before. Her laugh was music to his ears, even if it wasn't caused by him.

Very animatedly, she waved the VHS around as she explained, "Yeah, we went back three times because they're were different endings depending on what screening you went to. It was really cool. Each ending had a different killer or killers, I guess because there tended to be multiple, which is kind of genius." Then she put the video down as she almost threw it, which would've been funny, but she'd have to pay for it if it broke.

"Wait, so it's based on the board game?" Steve enquired, resting his hand under his chin as he gazed up at her. "The whole Miss Scarlet in the dining room with the rusty spoon or whatever game?"

Rusty spoon. That definitely should be one of the weapons.

Y/N giggled, confirming, "Yeah, that's the one. In the movie, Miss Scarlet is, well, she's basically a pimp."

"Now I have to see this movie." He leant forward and tried to flirt, "Do you want to..."

No way. Was Harrington flirting with Y/N? That was not happening. Not on Eddie's watch. Sliding in next to her, Eddie wrapped his arm around Y/N's shoulders and squeezed lightly, cheerfully interrupting Steve and greeting, "Funny seeing you here, Lady Folksworth."

Steve immediately stood up straighter, thinking he'd accidentally tried it on with a 'taken' girl. That wasn't his intention. Still....?

"Munson, how are you? How's high school treating you still?"

"It's going swell, Harrington," Eddie retorted, biting back the tone that he wanted to use.

"Think you're going to graduate this year?"

"They do say the third time's a charm."

Staring between the two, Y/N didn't really know what to do or say. She was lost, unsure of how to react to this situation. It was so awkward. She waited for a break in their exchange before lying, "My dad is probably waiting for me in the car. I'll see you two later," and unhooking herself from Eddie's arm. As soon as she was free, she gave them both a wave and began to leave.

Eddie called after her, "You forgot something."

Oh. Was he referring to what she'd forgotten before? He must've, so she made her way back to him and kissed his cheek, expecting that that was the thing he was talking about. Nope. In his hand was the VHS of Clue that she'd left on the counter. He handed it to her with a smug grin.

"Hey, do I get one of those?" Steve joked, earning a swift punch in the arm from Eddie.

"Bye, Steve. Bye, Eddie."

And she was off.

"Why did you get a kiss and I didn't?"

"Why did she say goodbye to you first?"

Actually, what the fuck had he done? He could've sworn he saw her car and not her dad's in the parking lot as he entered. Then again, he hadn't looked hard enough to be sure. Eddie was pretty sure he hadn't done anything to upset her. What if he had? Oh shit, that would suck. That would actually be the worst. The worst of the worst would be if he'd actually upset her and she didn't want to talk to him anymore. If that happened, he would be so royally screwed. 

But, no. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them.

Steve still asked, "Have you guys fallen out?"

"Me and Y/N? No. I don't think so."

"Are you sure? She left in a hurry as soon as you showed up."

Oh, he thought that too. Fuck, Eddie wished that Steve hadn't pointed it out because now it was out in the open. The words had been said out loud. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Are you two... together?"

They weren't, but, "Why do you want to know that?" It was obvious why Steve wanted to know. Eddie's reaction made it clear enough what his true feelings were since he stared at Steve blankly for a few moments before awkwardly shrugging and nervously scratching the back of his neck. The moment he put it together, he whined, "Dude, no."

"What? I haven't even done anything."

"Yet. You haven't done anything yet. Literally any other girl, ask any other girl. Please. I'm begging you. Don't."

God, he felt like such a fucking pussy. He was literally begging Steve Harrington not to ask out the girl he likes. That was how low he was willing to stoop for Y/N.

"But..."

"Just don't."

Harrington hesitated and then said, "Fine." After a moment of silence passed between them, Steve asked, "What are you doing here anyway?"

Robin butted in with "Y/N always comes in at lunch time on a Saturday, and he knows that," and bumped Steve out of the way so she could serve a customer that had been waiting, having been completely ignored by the two boys. "Harrington, are you even going to attempt to do some work?"

With that, Eddie tapped the counter in thought for a moment, his mind swimming with all the possibilities of why Y/N was acting in such a way. She'd claimed it was because of period pain, and not that he knew much about that, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was something else. She'd been almost mute for two weeks now. Did periods last that long?

Then he said something that he'd never ever expected to come out of his mouth. "Right. I'm off to the library." That wasn't it. He went to the library often because books are fucking expensive. The surprise came when he followed that up with "I've got some biology homework to do."

So that's what he did. He went past the fantasy section, his heart panging as he did so, and straight to the non-fiction area, finding one that was named 'The Female Species' in no time. When he opened it, his eyes immediately went to the illustrations. Yep. That was a pussy. Fucking hell, the things he'd do for Y/N. She better appreciate his research.

At the end of their shift, Eddie re-entered Family Video and went straight up to Robin. "I read in a book that periods usually last five days; is it normal for the girl to be really reserved at that time? The book was very factual about organs and tubes and shit, but didn't have anything about behaviour."

Steve heard and beelined for the back office. Robin blinked at him, her eyes wide, and obviously she was just confused why she was being bombarded with girl talk. So, Eddie continued, "Y/N hasn't been herself lately, you know. I think something's up."

"Just ask her."

"She's avoiding me like that time that I didn't shower for a week and she didn't want to be rude." Robin looked absolutely disgusted, as she should. "Don't look at me like that. Our plumbing broke."

"Alright, alright." She placed all of the cashing-up stuff down on the counter and called for Steve to do it. He wasn't as quick as her (she's got some mad quick addition skills, I know it), but it would have to do for today. "I will ask on Monday."

"What about tomorrow?"

Standing her ground, Robin repeated, "No. I will ask on Monday."

Eddie continued to whine for five minutes straight, hoping that if he threw a tantrum, Robin would give in and, maybe, even immediately go to Y/N's house and find out as soon as she possibly could. But no, Robin was tired and had barely sat down her entire shift. Plus, she had to work tomorrow too, so Monday was the best and only option that she was willing to do.

Monday couldn't come soon enough.

At lunch that day, Robin decided to ask Y/N to sit with her instead of with the Hellfire lot, which was a little weird at first, but she quickly grew comfortable with it. Y/N seemed as talkative as ever as she interacted with Robin and the other members of the marching band. What the hell was Eddie talking about?

From his position at his lunch table, Eddie watched with eagle eyes at the band table to see if there was any possibility of Y/N changing her mind and going back to the Hellfire camp. He caught Robin's gaze, and she just shrugged as if to say, 'You're overreacting.' Was he? Was he just reading into it too deeply? Nope. No way. He knew her better than that. He knew her better than Robin did. He was sure of it.

They shared the same fifth period lesson, and the moment she went to hurry to the next class, he easily lifted her off the ground and made his way to the janitor's closet with her squirming in his arms. They got a few weird looks from the other students, but mostly they were too busy with their own schedules to give too much of a shit.

"Put me down! Edward Anthony Munson, fucking put me down!" She exclaimed, slapping his arm in the hopes he'd stop manhandling her. He did once they were inside. He also made sure that he stood directly in front of the door so she wouldn't be able to leave.

Well, he intended to stay posted up by the door like a German Shepherd, but he quickly noticed that the janitor had a Santana poster and moved to take a closer look with a "Sick. He's got a Shango album poster. You know, it's not my usual type of music, but my uncle loves it," so she took the opportunity to try to weave past him.

Still, she had no chance. He quickly whipped his arm out and managed to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her up against him.

"Hey!" She protested. Looking up at him, her anger faded as she saw his face, but she still tried to be stern as she asked, "What are you doing?"

It was moments like this that Y/N became fully aware of how much taller than her he was. She was used to it, but it still kind of threw her. If he'd been any other man, she would've been intimidated, but with him, she just found herself drawn to his beauty.

"Eddie, what the hell?" She asked, her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink. Damn, he loved the way she looked when she was blushing. It made her eyes go all soft and dreamy. He didn't answer. He just looked at her beautiful face, and his heart melted into a puddle of mush behind his sternum. He was staring at her lips so hard that he was barely able to muster up a response.

But he did. Eventually. Eventually, he blurted out, "Do you not like hanging out with me anymore?" His voice came out quiet and unsure, almost as if it took all of his courage to get the words out - that's because it had. It somehow got even quieter as he said, "Do you not like me anymore, Y/N?"

The soft, pretty pink on her cheeks deepened and her eyes shone like diamonds. All traces of uncertainty were gone, and in its place was shock. She studied his face for a moment, looking for any kind of signs of joking or teasing in his eyes. When she couldn't find anything, she sighed and said, "Of course I like you. What made you think that... that I didn't?"

"Wha- what? Uh, the fact that you haven't said more than two sentences to me all week." He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. He didn't know what had come over him. One minute he was fine, and then the next - boom! Out came the sass. He'd never been good at holding in his feelings, especially when he was really into someone.

Not even giving her time to explain, he proclaimed, "And don't give me that crap about being on your period because I read up about that shit and it sounds fucking awful, I will admit, but it doesn't last two fucking weeks, Y/N. You're killing me here, sweetheart."

She couldn't help it. At his words, she let out a boisterous laugh that made his heart skip a beat. He hadn't heard her laugh like that in forever, and it just felt so goddamn good. Cackling, she said, "You read up on periods?"

"I was worried about you, and I don't exactly have a mother to ask about it. Uncle Wayne would've never let me live it down if I asked him."

Lightly, she dropped her forehead to rest on his chest as she tittered. His heart was about to burst out of his chest and into the open air. She lifted her head up off of his chest and looked him dead in the eyes, smiling as she claimed, "You're very sweet, Eds."

Sweet? She called him sweet? Everything in his body felt like it had turned to jelly. It took all of his willpower to keep himself from kissing the hell out of her. She still hadn't told him the actual reason, so he continued on his path of questioning. Putting on his best 'I'm a tough negotiator' face, he declared, "I'm serious, though. What the fuck is going on with you?"

"Is that face supposed to intimidate me into telling you what's wrong?"

Whoops. She gave it away.

"So there is something wrong!" He dramatically took his hands off her and flailed them in the air. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! Robin can fucking suck it."

Like usual, she found his little tantrums humorous, and she just gazed at him with a grin on her face as he continued to wave his arms in the air, swearing his fuzzy head off. It was like he was an overgrown toddler, trying his best to get a reaction out of her, and his efforts were successful as she laughed at him. How are you supposed to not laugh at a fully grown man hysterically jumping around in a confined space, accidently knocking over a mop on his warpath? He stopped for a moment, put it back in its place, then started whining again.

"Why won't you talk to me? This is bullshit. I've only had Dustin to annoy this entire week, which is fun, but I'd prefer to annoy you. I even stooped low enough to try and fuck with Wheeler."

"No, not Mike. How did you survive?"

Slowly, he got closer to her with a smug smile on his face, his eyes narrowing as he raised his hand to accusingly point at her as he began to facetiously complain, "You're laughing at my concern! Honestly, Y/N, I don't know why I do it. I had to look the librarian in the eyes and say, 'Hi, where's the section about pussies? Yeah, my friend has one, and I want to know why its making her act all stupid and shit. Oh, and where's the erotica while we're at it? Might as well add that to my collection too. That will give me something to do while I wait for her to even breathe in my direction!' Well, actually, no, I didn't say that, but I could've. I could've done that. I would've done that."

Swallowing down all her anticipation and nerves, she teased, "Aw, you would've checked out erotica for me?"

"Shut up," he joked, then immediately backtracked, "No, don't shut up. That's the whole thing. Don't shut - you know what? Fuck it, I'm just going to -"

Instead of continuing to ramble, he didn't know what came over him, but he knew it wasn't rational. Maybe it had something to do with the way her lips looked so full and soft. His hand grabbed her by the waist and yanked her forward, pressing their lips together with a hunger he couldn't explain. He didn't remember moving, or if he had, he forgot. One moment he was speaking, and the next, well, the next, all of his senses were focused on her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, which caused him to smile against her mouth. He couldn't help himself; he couldn't stop smiling at the perfection of it all. Her body was pressed up against his; she was pressed into his chest. All he wanted to do was kiss her for hours. Her lips felt so soft, so sweet, and he couldn't stop touching them and tasting them. Every single part of his body was in tune with hers, and it was an amazing feeling.

There was a break in the kiss as he pulled back slightly to look at her, his hands resting on her hips as he tried to apologise, "Tell me whatever I did wrong and I'll make it up to you. I'll do what -"

"I'm not paid enough to care about this shit."

The pair broke apart, and their heads whipped to look at the newcomer. It was silent for a while as they just stared at the janitor in the hopes that he might magically vanish. "Get out," the janitor said. "Get out before I make sure you two end up in detention."

Detention was not on the cards as Y/N grabbed Eddie's hand and dragged him into the corridor as he still seemed a little dazed. Addressing the janitor, he complimented, "Cool Carlos Santana poster, by the way. That's actually what we went in there to see. Crazy. We heard about it through the grapevine, you know," so she pulled him away before he could say anything else.

"I swear to God, that was so fucking awkward," Y/N laughed, trying to suppress her giggles.

The moment they made it around the first corner they saw, he scanned if any teachers were around and then began to kiss her cheek, gradually making his way down from her cheekbone to her neck, manoeuvring her so her back was against the cold wall and his front was against hers. He nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her scent and absorbing it through his skin. 

Teasingly, he reared back and came to a compromise: "If you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours, I won't leave the biggest hickey I possibly can on your neck. Just imagine how long you'll be grounded for when your parents see that."

"You're not serious."

"Watch me." He lowered his head once again, his lips finding her skin just above her collarbone, before she tugged on his hair to pull him back up. "Start talking."

Taking a breath, she finally explained, "So, I'm trying this thing where I let other people get a word in. We all know that I have a habit of talking a bit too much, and you're probably sick of my voice at thi-"

"What the fuck are you on about?"

His blunt statement made her jump.

She was just about to speak again when a junior, who obviously had a hall pass to use the bathroom, gave them a funny look and walked by without saying a word. Jokingly, she pointed out, "Why did we choose to do this in a public corridor?"

"And she begins avoiding my question once again," he taunted, moving his mouth under her jaw to plant a kiss there. He grinned, smug, and self-assured, and Y/N felt a swell of pride at his confidence. She considered her answer for a few moments, and in that time, his hand slipped from her hip to her lower back, sliding beneath her t-shirt to graze over her bare skin. She loved the way he was so comfortable in their little game.

"Stop," she laughed, but he kept his lips there, pressing against her neck and making her shiver. "Somebody mentioned that I'm a bit of a motormouth, so I decided to reel it back, okay?"

He craned his head back in surprise. "Who?"

"I'm no snitch, Munson."

"Uh, I'd like to know who fucked with my girl. I'm planning on kicking their ass."

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she coquetted, "Your girl? Is that what I am now?" And to be super effective, she softly brushed some of his hair behind his ear.

There was no mistaking the pleased grin that curved his lips. He gave her the goofiest, most lovestruck grin possible, declaring that, "Oh yeah, didn't you hear? You have been for a while. Did I forget to mention it?"

"You may have forgotten, yeah. Maybe you did, and I was too busy chatting to notice," she joked, and he chuckled. Her hand moved to his chest, and she felt his heart pound against her palm, his breath quicken, and his body tense. Her smile faltered for a moment as she apologised, "I'm sorry for practically ignoring you for a while."

At her words, his answer was low and sincere. "Yeah, it sucked." He tilted her chin up as she'd moved her focus away from his face, suggesting, "You could always make it up to me by hanging out with me after school and rambling to me about every single thought that pops into your head."

"Eddie, I'm sure you don't really want -"

"You don't get to tell me what I want," he said, and the serious expression returned to his face. He shook his head and kissed her again, this time briefly but with a lot of affection. It was an answer in itself. Against her lips, he mumbled, "Your voice is my favourite sound in the world; don't deprive me of it again or I'll probably go insane."

That made her do the most girlish giggle he’d ever heard.

"Just so you know," he said, "you could read anything to me and I'd be enthralled. You could read the fucking Bible to me, and I'd convert in no time."

Despite the casualness of his statement, it made her realise how truly into her he was and how much he thought she was worth listening to. She loved the way he looked at her, like she was the only girl in the world, the way he thought she was so special. He didn't see her as just another member of Hellfire; he saw her as his girl.

Putting his favourite things together, she offered, "Why don't you come over; we'll smoke, and I'll read The Hobbit to you? My parents are out, so it's up to you."

He'd never heard something so perfect for him in his life. The smile that stretched across his face was absolutely, unarguably perfect. She waited until he'd composed himself before she copied his actions from before and kissed from his cheekbone down, which caused him to shiver slightly and unconsciously put his hand on the back of her head. 

Trying to play it cool despite how his body was reacting, he retorted, "What about your cat? Is she in?"

"You'll have to come over to find out."

So he did. He was practically vibrating with anticipation as he pulled his van onto her driveway and didn't even wait for her to get her keys in the front door before he hurried up behind her, grabbing onto her waist and tugging her against him so he could kiss the back of her neck. 

The moment she opened the door and pulled him inside, he noticed her cat and beelined towards her. "Hey, stinky," he said, holding the cat in his hands. He looked at Y/N and back to the cat. The theory that all pets look like their owners seemed to be correct, as Y/N's kitten was as cute as she was.

"Don't call my baby stinky," Y/N playfully warned, stroking the cat and leaning down to bump their noses together, causing the cat to lovingly nip at the tip of her nose.

"I can't help it," Eddie replied, holding the cat by the armpits and holding her above his head, wiggling her from side to side, falsely insulting, "Liquorice is just such a gross, ugly cat."

Faking offence, Y/N grabbed the kitten from his hands and cradled it as she began walking to her bedroom, cooing, "Don't listen to the rip-off Van Halen-looking boy, baby. He failed ninth grade English too many times for his opinion to be valid."

Eddie, of course, was hot on her heels as he followed her. "I'm not a boy; I'm a man."

"Whatever you say."

When they made it up to her room, Eddie immediately made himself at home, kicking his shoes off and jumping face first onto her bed. Y/N rolled her eyes and dropped the cat onto her pillow before sitting on the bed to beam as Eddie turned on to his side and pouted, urging her to "Kiss me?"

How could she not? She obliged, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. His reaction was immediate. He eagerly responded to her kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, tongue eagerly exploring hers. Y/N was the first to pull back as she felt Liquorice pawing at her arm. 

"Oh, sorry, you jealous thing," she joked, giving the cat an equal amount of attention by scratching her belly. She instructed Eddie, "Take over while I find the book."

Liquorice had always liked Eddie, which was weird as she rarely liked anyone. Especially men. But it was as if she saw how kind he was and just went with it when he started to gently run his hands through her fur, purring as he did so.

Reading aloud, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat..." 

Y/N had found the book and made her way back to her bed, leaning against the headboard as Eddie manoeuvred to sit between her legs, bringing Liquorice to sit in his lap. Together they both said, "It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort." 

Of course he knew that bit off by heart.

Slithering her arms around him, she placed her chin on his shoulder, occasionally giving him a peck on the cheek between paragraphs as she continued reading. He leant back, listening intently as he lit his spliff, taking a few drags before placing it between her lips and dreamily gazing at her as she let the smoke out of her nose like a sexy dragon. A sexy Smaug.

Never had he felt so comfortable. In a relationship or just in general. No matter how many people he'd been with before, there'd never been a moment when he'd ever truly felt like this.

Almost the second before she finished the final paragraph of the first chapter, Liquorice was spooked by a sound from outside and decided that she didn't want any more attention. Y/N called after her, "Do not start a fight with the dog next door," and all the cat seemed to do was narrow her eyes and saunter out of the room.

Finishing the last bit, Y/N declared, "Bilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams. It was long after the break of day when he woke up."

Now that he no longer had a cat on his lap to worry about, Eddie took the book from her hands and set it on her bedside table, turning around to face her as he flirted, "Honestly, whoever told you to shut up must not have taste because I've read that so many times and it never sounded that good before."

The compliment was not lost on her as Y/N giggled, "I swore you fell asleep halfway."

"I was resting my eyes." He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, only to pull back, looking into her eyes. "You're seriously not going to tell me who?"

"Nope." 

Fine. That'll do. He let out a huff, but it was quickly forgotten as she placed her hand on the side of his face, gently ghosting her thumb over his skin as she pressed her lips against his. And that's how they spent most of the evening. Just smooching with the occasional playful bout of taunting.

Over time, it wasn't rare for Eddie to spend all of his free time in the warm comfort of Y/N's bedroom. He lay on his side, leaning over her slightly as she used their intertwined hands to gesture, soaking in all of his focus.

It wasn't long before Eddie pieced together who had made her feel that way. Mike had made some offhanded insult about how long she had been talking, and Y/N looked at Eddie like 'this fucking guy, amiright?', accidently giving it away.

Then Hellfire came, and Mike was very surprised when his PC died only thirty minutes into the session. 

Strangely, it seemed as if the DM was personally targeting him. 

Who knows why?

*Click here for my masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

[alwaysobsessed777]

okok so for the nika angst how about it’s something with her injury and reader trying to help her and it’s appreciated but nika feels helpless since reader helps with everything and nika starts closing herself off ??

idk something like that 🤷‍♀️

FINE LINE - N.M

finally finished this one after the long day I had (which was literally just shopping and watching the UConn game). So please...enjoyyy and hopefully it's not to bad.

Not sure the word count but there is no warnings!!

"hey, Niks. I'm gonna head to work, um, do you need anything before I go?" A simple question. Nothing that could be taken the wrong way.

"Nope."

"Okay...I'll pick something up for us to eat on my way home, if you want me too."

"Sounds good."

My lips form a thin line, "Okay, just text me something you'd want. I love you."

"Love you."

I didn't want to think to much into it, but since nika's injury, I've tried my best to be the supportive girlfriend who stays by her side. But something just seems off with her anymore. I don't know if it's just the fact that's she's injured that keeps her down...or if I'm smothering her with my presence.

I made my way to work, helping the Seattle storm players stay up on workouts and anything else they needed. Quickly, I finished whatever paperwork was thrown at me. At this point, the job had lost its charm. Everything felt broken. Between the players, the staff, everything was finally falling apart...and I had no control over it.

"You good there?" Jewell's voice broke through whatever had been brewing in my mind.

"I guess," rummaging through the file I had been trying to sort, something to keep my mind off everything else. Which, clearly wasn't working.

The woman moved her way to the desk, leaning against it, "you don't sound so sure."

"I'm not."

The teasing seemed to dissipate once those two words left my mouth. "Y/n, is everything good? If you needa talk, the teams right here."

"I...I don't know. Everything seems to be falling apart." Jewell titled her head, as if to tell me to keep going.

"The team is falling apart. Whether it's the staff or it's the players. Then there was nika's injury...and I feel like I'm losing her. She barely talks to me, I can't tell if I'm doing to much or not enough." I hadn't even realized the tears that started to fall, Jewell coming up to me to hold my hands, "I just feel like everything is slowly freeing itself from my grasp...and I can't do anything about it but watch. Watch the team start to hate each other. Watch everyone I work with rip each other's throats out cause there's no way for communication. And...and then watch my girlfriend fall deeper into whatever mental crisis she's going through until there's no way of getting her back." The sobs were uncontrollable. I hadn't realized how much I needed to talk to someone. I was so focused on everyone else. I forgot about myself, the one thing that was supposed to matter the most I let slip the furthest away from me.

"Hey, y/n, just take the rest of the day off," I went to argue, but Jewell just shook off my response, "don't worry about the team, don't worry about anyone in this building...other than you."

"I can't just leave."

"I'll talk to someone, explain what's going on. They'll understand, everyone needs a mental health day every once in awhile," The woman's soft smile sent a wave of comfort over me. The first feeling of comfort I've had in awhile, "and about Nika...I'm sure she's dealing with a lot. Going through an injury like an ACL tear, it takes a toll on every aspect of your life. Now I'm not giving her a reason to shut you out...but give her just a little bit of leeway."

I nod, fighting the urge to crash into her and just hug her....which goes right out the window the second she opens her arms inviting me in. Without a second thought, I bury my face in her shoulder, trying to take the comfort the woman was offering.

"How do I even talk to Nika? I've tried...nothing seems to bring her back to me...." Had I tried hard enough? Was it really my fault for her drifting away from me?

"Like I said, I'm sure there's a lot going on in that thick head of hers," a small chuckle escaped my lips, "but I'm sure she'll have a reason that made sense to her on why she was pushing you away. And please, if it's extremely stupid...let me know and I'll prove her how stupid that move was."

A smile spreads across my lips, "thanks Jewells...I needed this."

"I know...you looked like you were gonna throw this desk at me when I walked in."

"Whatever...I'm gonna go talk to Nika. I just need to know she's okay."

Jewell seemed to soften even more, "Nika is gonna be okay. Now or even a month away from now...she's gonna be okay."

"Thank you," she pulled me into another hug, letting me go, allowing me to make my way back to the apartment my girlfriend and I shared. The small place we've started to call home after just a couple months. Meeting about a year ago at UConn, the giant campus somehow leading to us meeting each other at one of the many cafes that were scattered throughout it. The way I had finished my studies for physical therapy and she had just finished her last year on the basketball team. I had been praying to get a job for Seattle storm since I was little, not being able to play but hoping to help the people who did. Then, Nika got drafted, sending her straight my way. We got close over her training camp days, which lead to her making the team, to her needing a place. I just happened to overhear and offered her a spot in my apartment. Little did I know she'd end up being my girlfriend a month later.

But here I was today...reminiscing the last couple months like our relationship was in the past. A sudden wash of dread spread throughout me, stopping me from getting out of my car as I sat in front of the apartment. I almost had to bribe myself with the fact that if I got everything out now, it'd all be fixed later.

Opening the door to the small place left me sick, walking up the stairs to our shared room was even worse. I stood in front of the closed door, quiet sounds floated around from the TV. I knocked a couple times; no answer. I opened the door slowly, catching Nika sitting upright - hair down, hood over her head, covers pulled up to her chin - a dead stare right at the TV. Not even a little acknowledgement of me being her.

"Hey," it came out rough, hoarse. My nerves became uneasy. Knocking her head to the side, her eyes fell on mine, but it lasted no more than a second. "Can we talk?"

Nika tensed, "about what?"

I made my way to the bed, sitting beside the girl, "Us."

"Us?" Her head snapped in my direction. A wash of worry or nervousness flooded her face.

"Yeah," fidgeting with my hands, I continued, "Are you not happy...like...in our relationship? Am I being to much? Or maybe I'm not enough for you? Maybe I wasn't able to help you like I thought I would? I don't know, I probably shouldn't have brought you back here, to Seattle, when you could've just went back hom-"

Nika's hands made contact with mine, her body moved to be faced towards me. "Are you unhappy?"

"...I...I don't know."

Nika's eyes widened, shock, worry, nervousness, anything and everything seemed to hit her like a truck in that very moment. "Y/n...I'm sorry...maybe we should end things."

Tears swelled in my eyes, this wasn't anything that I was expecting. "You wanna break it off?"

"I...I don't know," the girl started, staring off at the small contact that we were making, "maybe it'll be better for you. You could live your life without worrying about me 24/7. Maybe you'll find more time to be with your friends instead of stuck in bed with me. Maybe you'll start to love your job again without having to worry if I'm upset that you get to work and I don't. Maybe you'll be able to actually live your life without having to worry about the disappointment you come home to everyday. Maybe you'll be able to find someone who will be able to treat you the way you're supposed to be treated. I love you too much to keep you stuck in the house with me. I love you so much I need to let you have a life, not for you to only care about mine."

Tears fell from her cheeks, sobs erupted out of me. The stress and hurt of Nika's words hitting me harder than anything else ever has. "Nika...I love you...I don't want anything but you."

Nika shook her head, "no...I'm a burden on you...I can't hold you down anymore."

"Nika...please...I can't live without you. I would do anything for you...even if it's ruining my life, I would ruin my life over and over again before I let you go." The brunette couldn't keep eye contact. Anything was better than looking at me at this moment. "Nika, I'm not letting you break us up."

"Why? I can't be the girlfriend you deserve. I'm stuck here...and you just get stuck with me."

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Niks."

Her eyes fell on mine, "I just don't understand...I can't even stand myself right now."

"And I will always be able to stand you... I'll do more than just 'stand' you, Nika, I'm always gonna love you." Her eyes fell again, she pulled me into her. A hug. The first one she's initiated in awhile.

"I'm sorry," her voice breaking, "I...I just want you to be happy."

"I'm always happy...but that's only because I'm with you, Nika."

She let out a soft chuckle, "I don't know what I'd do without you, y/n/n."

A smile, small, but still a smile stretched across my face, "I don't know what you'd do either."

She moved to look me in the face, "you're the only thing that's getting me through this injury...I hope you know that."

"I'm just glad to hear I'm helping you at all," I take her hand in mine, a soft spark ignited between us.

"I know I haven't said it to you-"

"you haven't really said much in awhile."

Her face softened more, "I know, and I'm sorry about that, but I just want to let you know... you're more than enough for me. Over the last couple weeks...I had this feeling that I was becoming a burden on you...and I thought if I separated myself from you, you'd finally realize I wasn't enough for you."

"Nika..."

"Y/n...I want nothing more than you in my life, always and forever."

"And you'll get that...cause I'm not going anywhere." A easy quiet settled between us, she moved to lay in my arms while I rubbed gently on her arm. Her breaths seemed to fall into a steady pace, a pattern. She fell asleep...in my arms...but things just felt easier. A weight lifted off my shoulder, and I'm sure it was the same for her.

I placed a soft kiss on her head, settling my head on hers. Drifting away to sleep that was almost inevitable, I whispered three words, "I love you." Those three words I would never go without telling the woman in my arms. I wanted her to know I meant them ...even in her worst moments.

A/n hopefully this is to your liking (the person who requested this) and it was more angsty than what I usually write.

[otrtbs]

can i know your bartylus thoughts….

well, yes of course you can know my bartylus thoughts! they make me insane.

The guiding thesis for bartylus is: "who are you when you're not performing."

because regulus is always performing, for his parents, for his brother, for the sake of maintaining some sense of fragile control, he's always projecting some other image of himself, some other version that people demand or expect. (i even feel like with james, he's trying to project The Best Most Palatable version of himself esp at the beginning)

and barty is also just a constant performance to me. in my mind it's just a constant rejection and rebellion of/against his father and his father's expectations. like any chance that barty has to be away from his father's crushing thumb is the moment he goes haywire, because that's how he gets back at his dad. that's his way of saying 'fuck you'. but is that really him? or is he just constantly performing the opposite of what his father wants, not because that's who he is, but because he knows his father will hate it?

but when regulus and barty come together, they don't have to act any more. they don't have to pretend and project with one another, because they can both see right through it. barty's smart, he's cunning and quick and i would say he's smarter than regulus is and regulus loves that. they can spar together, they match each other intellectually. and they both know that there is nothing they can do or think or say that the other person wouldn't understand. there is no place they wouldn't follow each other.

also, i think barty is extremely possessive. for lack of a better metaphor i think that barty coils around regulus like a snake and that regulus loves it. in a world where everybody picks everybody else before regulus (his parents pick sirius and sirius picks james...and regulus is just kind of There.... you get the vibe) barty not only picks regulus first, but entwines himself fully with regulus. barty doesn't play about regulus because that's his person, that's the only one who knows who barty is without all the fanfare... the only one who took the time to dig through all those layers that barty's buried himself under.

okay okay and also they just FIT so WELL together in all these tiny and subtle ways. like, in my mind they're perfect potion's partners because they're both left-handed and they don't knock elbows or anything. and they both wear silver jewelry and they can literally pull the thoughts out of each other's head and speak them outloud before the other person. and it's not work for them. it's not work for them to tell what the other person is thinking or feeling, it just comes easily to them. and anyone else has to pull teeth from both of them to get them to show the slightest emotion.

i think that regulus grounds barty's chaotic, wild, self-destructive tendencies and pulls him back, and barty forces regulus to lighten up and draws him out of his isolationist, hermit, caustic self-destructive tendencies.

[mellohiizz]

wanted to talk about odyssey duo and my um. view on their dynamic and relationship.

probably going to be a pretty long yap, but i really wanted to talk about them since there's been some talk about them after the last uu video. it caused me to think deeper into their relationship and i wanted to write it down.

(putting it here just in case: not targeted at anyone. just yapping about the codependent silly guys that i hate.)

the thing about odyssey duo, to me, is that yes, they are in some ways unhealthy. they're codependent and messy. but that doesn't mean that they're "toxic" or their friendship is not working.

they're both flawed characters with destructive traits. parrot is dry and unable to express his emotions properly, which leads to misunderstandings over his intentions. wifies is not a saint either, he's stubborn and can get very pushy when it comes to his own decisions. (insisting on dean leaving without explaining anything and trying to do it without parrot knowing, burning the compass to forcefully keep parrot from going to farlands)

but the main thing about them to me is that if you really look into it, they're both trying to make it work. they do care about each other and have both shown it more than once in different ways.

they both did and said things that aren't great. but it doesn't make one or the other good or bad. yes, parrot came out quite cold and uncaring a couple of times, but it doesn't automatically makes him a bad person, or means that he's mistreating, or even 'abusing' wifies in any sense.

if we're pushing it to that point, you could say wifies also used parrot in a sense of wanting to feel human and wanting someone who would 'want him back' without knowing his real self. (im being dramatic with this, obviously)

parrot comes off as uncaring because of how dry and unable to show his actual emotions he seems to be. which is a valid character trait considering how often he just couldn't because of the circumstances. parrot is someone who's very goal oriented. when he needs to focus on something, he locks in. it's the only thing he thinks about and everything else goes to the back of his mind.

which also brings me to the point of the way parrot deals with grief. one thing is how often parrot just couldn't express his grief over losing someone. he grieved luigi, yes, because it was one time he actually was allowed to take a little bit of time to actually process the fact that someone died in front of him. and even then, instead of fully allowing himself to grieve, he had to focus on other things.

same goes for dean. dean's death was pretty much shock value for both parrot and viewers, and parrot tried to grieve him too. but during it, he was interrupted by literally the number one threat at the time.

so of course when another loss comes into picture, parrot doesn't allow himself to grieve him. he acknowledges his loss ("your leader just killed my best friend"), but there was no time for him to actually let himself properly grieve wifies or even allow himself to react. they were in the middle of dealing with the mafia, and he needed to focus on that instead.

we only see the impact wifies' death had on him by the end of the episode. where he does listens. he lights the beacon despite expressing his indifference to them the whole episode. that, once again, shows that he does care.

he was hesitant on letting wifies go through with joining the mafia in the first place. he agreed because he trusted wifies to be safe and know what he's doing. it was already shown to us that wifies is parrot's weak point. he tried so many times to keep wifies away from the danger simply because he didn't want to lose him. back in the video where clown was hunting parrot, there was a very clear parallel between branzy being clown's weak point and wifies being parrot's. the difference in that was parrot knew clown wouldn't have hesitated to kill wifies.

they both changed the ways the go about things for the other. they care, but unfortunately, they were doomed by the narrative. the universe screwed them over by putting them into circumstances where they just wouldn't have worked it out.

in conclusion, because this is already very long, yes, odyssey duo are messy. they're not the healthiest duo, and they do have issues. but they tried to overstep those and work, and that's what i like about them.

[whatswrongwithblue]

I almost feel a little bad, knowing how long others waited for Part 2, when I only just read Part 1 last night. And I'm already being rewarded with a sequel.

Reader is such a naughty little wife, coming back early before Alastor's rut was over. Once again, she knew what she was doing.

Alastor's annoyance over this doe resident is pretty funny, but also a little harsh of her. I almost feel bad for her. Almost.

And Alastor being outright offended his wife would imply she would forgive him if he let this strange doe warm his bed because he was in a rut. He's married! And a man of self control! And also apparently hates snorting powdered sugar - I don't know where that came from but he seems to have a very specific idea in mind when describing the doe's scent.

My absolute favorite part of both these fics is reader grabbing Alastor by his tail and forcing him to stay in bed. Like. . . .dayum, sis knows what she can get away with, doesn't she? I feel like anyone else who even found out that tail existed would be wiped from existence but she gets to literally drag Alastor around by it. And he just takes it. These two give massive switch energy and play off each other beautifully.

Well done, Saffy. Bravo!

My Sweet Temptation

|Masterlist| |The Only Temptation| Pairings: Alastor x Reader Tags/ Warnings; f!Reader, Demon! Alastor. Heats! Ruts! Alastor and Ruts! dual POV, Handjob, oral (f! receiving), fingering, scent kink, p in v, knotting, antlers, tails, dry humping, pwp, cum eating, feels, Alastor just really loves his wife not even the sweet allure of a doe in heat can stop him from being the biggest simp ever. [TLDR: It's been a month since he last saw you. With Alastor finally starting his rut, can he still keep resisting the temptation that is you?] A/N: Wowwie! This was supposed to come out for my birthday, but hey! At least it's here. Special thanks to @ladyadrasteia666. This one is for you because I wasn't able to tag you last time, but you really helped me with all the smut parts. So, thank you. Minors DNI

The doe is talking to him like they are friends. She’s a resident at the hotel Alastor currently works and lives in, nothing more. It’s that current hotel that’s keeping him from his wife.

One whole month – that’s how long it’s been since Alastor felt any trace of you.

The doe smells sweet, in the same way that powdered sugar smells sweet, but her scent prickles his nose in such a harsh way that he wonders how long he could hold his breath for. Pouring actual powdered sugar down his nostrils would be less irritating.

The waves of scent are just too much that it’s positively disgusting. Alastor would have already killed the doe had it not been for Charlie.

The mind . . . it’s a very fickle thing.

Except when it comes to you, it seems – it’s very generous when it comes to you.

As the doe babbles with utter nonsense, Alastor’s mind wanders back to you. It shows him instructions on how he should trail his lips down the skin of your stomach, feeling the heat from all the sensitive nerves on his lips. Alastor thinks about holding you closer until he can feel every inch of your skin.

This mind of his, tells him how exactly Alastor would crawl inside you, fulfilling that never-ending desire to feel you, and only you.

As if summoned by his very thoughts, Alastor’s nose twitches with the scent of you.

Alastor still cannot describe what exactly the scent of you even smells like. It just seems to be the scent of laughter as acid rain pours down the street.

It also seems to be the s cent of a smile as dinner is eaten under a candle-light. It’s all of these things and none of these things at the same time. It’s not enough to capture the full essence of you.

All Alastor knows is that it’s you. He turns behind him, ignoring the doe, just in time to spot you rounding the corner.

The smile on your lips grows the moment your eyes land on him. Alastor knows when it does, because he watches your lips inch higher and higher as your pace quickens.

You tilt your head, looking straight behind him. Now what would cause your attention to shift from him?

Alastor gets his answer because he knows the exact moment your eyes land to the doe behind him, and he has to watch as that once bright smile quickly drops into a polite one.

The closer you walk, the stronger the scent becomes. All these sudden waves of you almost leaves him dumb. The only thing flashing through his brain are the images of how shy you would look when he traces a path up your legs, only using the very tip of his finger to inch them apart.

The doe’s ears flick a little as she smiles. “Are you a new resident?”

“I wish that were the case.” You reach a hand towards the doe. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introd—”

Alastor catches your wrist, pulling your hand away before he could fully understand what he’s done. All he knows is that he cannot have this thing leave its filthy traces on you.

He slides his hand up the skin of your wrist, catching your fingers in his hold, and presses a small kiss between them. It’s not his proudest moment, but Alastor makes sure the doe sees exactly what he’s doing. “My wife.”

Deciding he’s had enough, Alastor doesn’t wait for a response, and crashes you into him, pulling you into the shadows below with a laugh.

Alastor can feel the way your fingers tighten around him, pulling him closer as you travel within the shadows. He holds you closer, reveling in the feeling of holding you until he’s popped into the bedroom, and crashing you into the mattress with tangled limbs.

The scent is even stronger now that he’s buried his face straight into your neck. It’s pulling him deeper into his mind.

You run a hand through the back of his head, scratching the scalp with the tips of your claws. Those heavenly fingers of yours trail higher until you’re tracing the outline of his antlers, and circle around the tip.

The pressure you place relieves the itching. You trail even lower this time, massaging the base of his antlers. This sends radio waves straight down, and out of his skin.

Your hand retreats when static glitches around the air.

“Don’t stop,” Alastor says . . . practically begging . . . and pushes his erection straight against the plump of your thigh. “Keep going. Cher, keep going.”

He presses his antlers closer to you, opening his neck as your tongue swipes one, long trail up the skin. “Alastor,” you say, whispering his name straight into his ear. Soft breaths tickle his ears, causing them to twitch a little. “Alastor . . . Talk to me.”

Alastor trails a finger down your cheek, tracing the outline, moving lower until his fingers swipe through your lips. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“I received a phone call today,” you tell him, closing your eyes as you nibble on his fingers a little. “Apparently, you’ve been quite . . . disagreeable this past month. Someone finally had enough.”

Alastor watches you swirl your tongue around the tip, before taking it deeper into your mouth. The outline of his erection bulges against his pants, pitching a very, very obvious tent.

Alastor should send you away before his instincts take over. He knows this. It’s the rational thing to do, but rational isn’t what he would describe himself right now. Especially, when your fingers curl around the back of his hair, cranking his neck upwards.

Rut or no rut, it’s just nice to be underneath your fingers again.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen a doe in Hell,” you say, voice a bit softer than normal. The outline of your nose traces his neck, and the soft huffs of your breath warm his neck. “If . . . If you . . . I would understand.”

This annoys him more than it should.

Alastor presses his claw a little harder on the skin of your cheek, swiping down just to scratch at the surface. “How cruel of you, cher.” His eyes twitch, smile curling a little higher. “You would be so willing to let another bed me?”

“It’s biology.” Your fingers tighten around his hair, tugging on his head to look at you. “I would understand that.”

Alastor presses his lips against yours, nibbling on the bottom until your mouth gives way for his tongue. The taste of your mouth is even sweeter than how you smell.

It’s driving him . . . insane. Pure madness that’s sinking its claws into him, and drags him deeper into its clutches. The thing is . . .  Alastor doesn’t want it to let go.

Consume him until there’s nothing left but you.

“Who do you think I am? I made a vow, cher, and I made that vow to you.” Alastor traces your jaw with his lips, and each word brushes against your skin. “All this time I’ve had to stop myself from devouring you, and here I learn you’re allowing such ridiculous ideas to run through your head.”

“Me?”

It’s more than a bit offensive to hear the surprise in your voice.

Alastor captures your lips once more, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss. “Who else except you?”

The scent of your . . . everything . . . envelopes him, consuming him deeper into his mind. You tighten your arms around him, and there’s nothing Alastor can do except melt into you.

The tips of your fingers trace up his spine, and back through his hair. Just a minute – that’s all he needs. A minute to memorize the sweet taste of your mouth. A minute to memorize the warmth of your fingers. A minute to memorize the scent of your skin. 

In a minute, Alastor will send you away one more. “I want to feel you.”

“I’m right here.” You laugh against his mouth, pressing one last kiss. 

“It’s not enough,” Alastor tells you, tracing your lips with his finger. “I want to be inside you.”

“You can if you want.”

“I want to open you,” he says, sighing against your skin. “I want to crawl inside until I can feel every inch of you surrounding me until all I can feel is you, and only you.”

You push him off your chest, using your hip to flip him on his back.

Alastor’s head hits the headboard just as your legs swing around his torso, and you sink your core straight above his cock. The pressure you’re sending into his cock forces a small breath tumbling out his lips.

The base of your hips leans into his dick when you shift forward to steal a kiss from him. Alastor melts into the kiss, unraveling underneath you with a moan.

“Will you finally let me help?” You run a sharp claw down his shirt, scratching at the buttons keeping him clothed.

“You can’t —”

Ypi grip his antler, yanking him to face you. The noise that comes out of his mouth embarrasses him a little, but you’re licking your lips, and Alastor knows you like what you heard.

“Tell me to go and I will, but I want to hear it directly from your mouth.” You stare directly into his eyes with a look so intense that it’s almost . . . dangerous. It’s intoxicating. “No more dancing around, Alastor. If you want me to go, you’ll have to send me away.”

The grip on his antlers tightens, and the pressure you’re pushing into him feels so good that no words can escape his mouth.

“My buck,” you say, smiling down at him. The smile of yours . . . it causes him to buckle his hip straight up into your core. “Shall we descend together?”

There’s nothing really Alastor can do but nod.

Alastor watches as you reach for the first button of your blouse, eyes trapped as you slowly unbutton them to reveal nothing underneath. Oh . . . oh!

The friction from the cloth brushed against your nipple until it perked and hardened. He takes one end of your shirt, helping you pull your arms out. It’s all done with such agonizing slowness, but Alastor can feel your skin from the tips of his fingers.

You’re sitting on top of his erection, rocking your hips to keep it alive as you reach for his bowtie. Alastor allows you to unravel it from his neck, keeping silent when you throw it behind you. The buttons on his shirt don’t get treated with the same gentleness as your own. You rip his dress shirt apart, smiling as the buttons pop out to reveal the fluff on his chest.

Alastor decides that he’s lost.

You chase him into a kiss as all clothes melt into the shadows, leaving you bare on top of him. His erection springs free from its confines, allowing your bare cunt to press against it.

Alastor groans against your mouth as he feels your wetness from those already too sensitive nerves lining his dick.

Alastor leans away first, smiling up at you as he traces circles around your hips. He swipes his thumb across your cheek, pulling you closer to pepper your face with soft kisses. The giggle that comes out crinkles your eyes, and that . . . that is everything to him.

You press your face into his neck, collapsing straight into his arms. Alastor watches your head rise and fall with every breath he takes. You’re pulling on some of the strands of his fur, playing around with it. 

There’s a very pressing matter, like the way his dick presses against your stomach, but there’s just something so comfortable about being pressed up against you.

“I think I understand what you mean about wanting to be inside me. I could stay like this with you forever” You laugh into his neck, and blow into his ear. “I love you, always.”

Alastor presses his mouth against yours for a kiss. If he were to descend into this madness, he would rather do it with you pulling him in. Actually, Alastor can only descend with you.

“I will always lose when it comes to you,” he says. “That’s why I need you to be very, very good for me, cher. If I become too much, you need to tell me.”

You press another kiss, laughing. “When are you never too much?”

“I’m serious.”

You slide off his hips to glance at his cock. His erection is so hard that it’s pointed straight up. You press on his tip, barely touching it, but Alastor’s thigh tightens as the jolt of stimulation rushes down at him.

 You’re watching him now, looking at every reaction as you wrap your fingers around, testing him. Just a light squeeze, and Alastor pierces his claws around the bed sheets, arching his back to drive it into your tight hold. That felt good . . . more than a little good.

The pressure stays light, but you eventually tighten it around him when you pump your fist up and down and up and down until he comes right around your fist. Spurts of his seed trails down your fingers. It only took very little stimulation, but Alastor is already a moaning and cumming mess.

You keep pumping because his cock doesn’t get any softer. It’s still so painfully hard.

“That’s . . . interesting,” you say, licking your lips. “You’re still so hard, my dear. Is this because of the doe? Is her heat keeping you erect?”

“I haven’t . . . .” Alastor moans into the sheets when you quicken your pace. “Ah, mph . . . I . . . I haven’t . . . exactly stopped to check.”

Cruel! Oh, so very, cruel.

You’re torturing him, pumping your fists around his hard erection until he’s cumming from just your hand, spluttering out his seed in hot ropes.

It hits his nose all at once. A sweet scent that he’s more than familiar with. Through the blur of his tears, Alastor stares at you, traveling his eyes to see you rubbing your thighs together. The slick from your cunt spreads around its plumpness.

Alastor takes a deep inhale, memorizing the scent of your arousal.

It brings something out from deep within him. Alastor pulls you into a kiss, pushing you until your back hits the mattress. “This is your last chance.”

“Is that a threat?”

Alastor latches around your nipple, tracing the sensitive area with each lap of his tongue. His hands trace down the expanse of your stomach until he’s swirling his fingers around your folds. Alastor quickly finds your clit, rubbing circles around it until you’re moaning straight into his ears.

The sounds you’re making for him are greater than any music he could play.

You’re jolting and writhing underneath him, but you’re also pulling him closer, urging him on as you rock against his fingers. Alastor keeps going until he’s found that bundle of nerves. The more he presses on you, the more that sweet scent of your arousal fills his nose.

He wants . . . no . . . Alastor needs to know what your orgasm would smell like.

It’s the most helpful thing that doe would ever do for him. Bringing him to his rut earlier than planned meant that he would need to send you away much sooner. Her heat was heightening his senses, and that means he would be so heightened around you. Alastor wouldn’t refuse a gift such as this. It’s the least that doe could do for bothering him.

It doesn’t take long for you to unravel underneath him, and your essence flows around his fingers. It’s heaven. The scent of your orgasm is so heavenly sweet that Alastor cannot resist. If the scent is this good . . . Then . . . Then what would it taste like?

Alastor forgets to give you time to gather yourself, diving his mouth straight among your folds to stick his tongue out. He gives your cunt one, long swipe, tasting the mixture of your orgasm and your wetness. It’s sweeter than normal. Alastor keeps going, driven by the need to keep tasting you.

His fingers swirl around your entrance before pushing it straight inside. You moan when he does, tightening your legs around his legs.

Alastor laps his tongue around your clit before giving it a hard suck.  One hand trails up the expanse of your stomach until he reaches your nipple. Alastor traces around the sensitive bud, pinching it when you rock into his face.

His tongue can only go so far in this angle. It needs to go deeper. Alastor grabs your hips, lifting them higher into the air until you’re practically folded in half. You’re so close. He can taste it. Alastor doesn’t stop until you’re coming straight into his face.

It hits him like an ice-bucket. Gosh, what is he doing to you right now?

Alastor releases you, part of your orgasm dripping down his chin. Your chest heaves as you take time to breathe and calm down. Your legs are still draped around his shoulder with the muscles in your thigh twitching.

“We should stop here for today,” he says, pressing one last kiss on the inside of your thigh. “I don’t know what will happen if we go further.”

Alastor turns away from you before he could change his mind. It’s better this way. Safer.

Before he can get too far, you grab him by the tail.

The sudden jolt of pressure from the base of his back coaxes out such a pathetic whine from his throat. Alastor collapses into the bed, his ass sticking slightly up from where you’re grabbing his tail.

There’s an irritated look on your face. It takes a moment for you to find your voice. “What silly thoughts are running through your head now, cher?” you say, breast rising and falling with each breath you take. “Finish what you started.”

The pressure on his tail tightens. Alastor moans into the sheets, the hardest erection of his afterlife pressing against your thigh.

It’s an odd posture, but . . . well, Alastor loses control. His hips jerk against your thigh, and the feeling is so . . . It’s so . . . Alastor can’t stop sliding his cock against your thigh.

Pre-cum slides against your skin as Alastor humps against your thigh. That same pathetic whine tears through his throat when you massage the base of tail, running it through your fingers.

Alastor jerks his hips faster against you, chasing after his own release until he shoots cum on your thigh. He keeps rocking his cock against you, spreading his own release against your skin.

Despite all this, his cock still stands so erect.

You eventually release his tail, and you plop back into the bed, rubbing your thighs together. You spread your legs, circling a finger around your nipple before trailing down your stomach to insert a finger into your weeping cunt. Those fingers of yours try to massage your nerve, trying to find that sweet release that Alastor isn’t giving you.

“Alastor,” you mewl, frustration in your voice. “Alastor . . . Alastor.”

Alastor crawls back to you, hooking an arm around your hips to lift you enough to make room for himself underneath. Your back presses against his chest, face hidden into his neck.

Alastor spreads your legs even further, and inserts his own fingers along yours. The slow stretch of both your fingers has you gasping and moaning. He lays his hands on top of yours, and guides the motion of your fingers, massaging you in all the right ways.

Alastor takes your wrist when you cum, observing it with careful eyes before taking it into his mouth to lick it clean.

There’s an odd look on your face that tells him you’re nearing the cusps of overstimulation. That doesn’t stop him from flipping you over, and landing you to face him until you’re straddling his hips. His still very, very hard erection presses against you.

“One more. Give me one more,” he says, whispering against your lips. “I don’t know if I can stop myself. It needs to be you who sets the pace.”

You grip the base of his cock, swirling it around your folds before aligning yourself.

The arousal and cum dripping from your cunt lubricate him. Alastor’s head bangs into the headboard as you slowly sink into him. It coaxes a moan out his throat. The way your walls grip him . . . It’s so tight that he can barely think straight.

You start to rock your hips, keeping such a good rhythm. Alastor trails his hands around your hips then up your back. It’s all he can do to support your weight when you lean back, trying to reach that special bundle of nerves.

Alastor can’t keep his eyes off you. It’s all too beautiful. The way your breast bounces from the force of your rocking or the way your eyes are shut so tightly as you chase your own pleasure.

You’re consuming him . . . using him, and dragging him with you with every rock of your hip.

It’s hard to resist such a temptation. Alastor jerks his cock, meeting you halfway. The squelching of fluids fills the air. It’s such a sinful sound. Alastor can smell it – the mix of your scent combining with his. It fills his nose with such a heavenly scent that it forces him to come right then and there.

You tighten your grip on him when you feel his cum shoot straight into you, milking him for every drop. It makes him question who was actually currently in a rut.

With one last moan, you unravel above him and slow down the force of your hips.

The fog blurring his mind lifts a little now that he’s cummed inside you. Finally . . . finally. Oh, his darling wife. You were so good for him, taking everything he gave without a complaint. It brings hope into his chest.

Maybe, just maybe, he can spend his ruts with you. Alastor can finally hide you away for as long as it takes to end. It would just be him and you, and you and him.

You’re still seated inside him, breath rising and falling as you catch you—

“Alastor.” You whine straight into his chest, fingers tightening around his fur. The grip you have on him strengthens as you tremble within his arms. “Alastor . . . You tell me what is happening right now. What are you doing to me?”

Alastor places a hand on your shoulder, and . . . oh!  It’s getting tighter – you’re getting tighter.

His forehead collapses on your shoulder as he tries to breath through his nose. It’s too tight. You’re suddenly clamping down on him, walls getting tighter and tighter and tighter. It’s a little hard to think right now.

With your knees, you try to push yourself out of him. All it does is pull on his sensitive cock. Once more, you try to pull yourself out of him, but it’s simply not working. Every tug your make sends radio waves straight into him until static releases from his skin, and distorts the air around him.

Alastor pulls your flush around him, bringing his arms around you in a tight embrace. It’s all he could do to keep you still. “It’s . . . mph . . .It’s a knot. It should probably last for about an hour.”

“Probably?” you screech, and bite down on his shoulder with a moan when you shift above him. “There’s a possibility that you’ll be stuck inside me for more than an hour . . . “

“This has never happened before.”

Despite the absolute horror in your face, you swipe your tongue across your lips to lick it, and clench tighter around him. You collapse on his shoulder, face buried into his skin as you adjust to the stretching of your walls.

It takes a moment, but you eventually relax against him. Your eyes are dropping low despite being stuck and sweaty and covered with so much fluids he doesn’t even know which ones belong to who.

Alastor peppers your face with kisses, trying to keep you awake. “Don’t sleep,” he says, pressing his lips on your eyelids. “We don’t know what could happen to you if you do.”

You’re nodding off faster than he can wake you. Alastor isn’t even sure you processed what he said. “I’m tired, my sweet Al.”

“I know.” Alastor presses his lips on the tip of your nose. “But you can’t fall asleep, not yet.”

“No . . . I . . . miss you . . . and I’m tired of not being able to be with you. Tell me to stay . . . and I will do so,” you say, mumbling against the fur on his chest, giving it soft kisses. “Just . . . tell me to . . . stay.”

Alastor doesn’t have the heart to jostle you awake. So, he allows you to fall asleep, still completely buried inside him.

“How completely unfair of you, cher. How can I deny such a request when you have that look on your face.” Alastor whispers the words into your hair. “Stay here with me. I never should have allowed you to leave. You’re staying right where I can see you.”

Alastor will always lose when it comes to you – the only temptation in his world.

Tags: @crackrodent @whatswrongwithblue @n0tmentallystable @s-a-f-f-y-nation @chibistar45 @sweet-radio @s-a-f-f-y-nation

[oneofreid]

Years Go By

Summary: In which they haven’t seen each other since an incident occurred in the BAU and now, they’re forced to put the past behind them.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Warnings: All angst, literally no smut or fluff, swearing, mentions of gun violence, literally all the feels.

A/N: read my other fics here

Breathe.

That’s all she could tell herself as she stared at the pale blue wall in front of her. Tucking herself away in the briefing room, just before anyone else could arrive. Her whole world turning upside down just like it had done eight years ago.

The familiar ache crawling its way back into her chest as she attempted to slow down her breathing. Attempting to focus on anything besides the endless “what ifs” and countless current escape plans that roamed her mind. It’s been months since her last panic attack and she was not about to have another, not over this. Not right now.

Not over him.

Several footsteps could be heard nearing by the door, signaling her to get her shit together before anyone could see her freak out. Her full attention now on the familiar faces of the BAU, her friends — her old co-workers. The ones she once called family.

“There she is! The one-and-only, la nostra stella splendente (our shining star), Agent Y/N L/N,” exclaimed the man who was like a father figure to her. The arms of David Rossi engulfing her in a huge bear hug.

Her eyes teared up, “I missed you kiddo. The last time I saw you….you were the quiet girl who was unsure if you made the right career choice. Now look at you, running your own unit and still fighting these monsters like the badass that you are.” The others nodding beside him in agreement, as one-by-one, the rest of the group continued to greet her. Knowing it had been an over half-a-decade since they last saw their dear friend.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…sorry I know that I’m late, I should’ve call—“ The frantic voice cutting the groups reunion short.

His brown eyes already set on her.

The woman at the head of the table dressed in a black pantsuit that complimented all her curves. Her hair pulled back in a way that highlighted her sharp facial features. Time had been very kind to her; she was every bit of beautiful and as stunning as he remembered, but her presence here struck him like a thunderstruck.

Spencer Reid froze. It had been years since they had last seen each other, yet alone, spoke. The memories between them came rushing back — the long nights they had discussing philosophy and random bits of historical periods, stolen moments during breaks at Quantico, all the times they spent holding and getting to know every part, every inch of each other, and most of all, the way she made him feel like the most important man in the world.

Their relationship had been intense, while expected, but fleeting in the most passionate way. She was everything to him. And he ruined it.

Spencer never thought that he would see her again, but now, as she met his gaze from across the room, he couldn’t stop the ache that found its way to his chest.

“Dr. Reid,” she said curtly. Her lips forming a tight line as the room grew quiet again, “It’s been a while.”

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the team exchanged glances, clearly picking up on the unresolved tension, but no one spoke a word.

“Okay, now that everyone is here and present. Let’s get started,” Hotch announced, everyone taking their seats as they turned their attention to the various files and crime scene photos that littered the table.

Spencer found his way to sit beside JJ, who shot him a sympathetic smile to reassure him. The breakup was hard on him. Everyone on the team knew that — when Y/N left, it shattered him. He thought that he could fix their relationship this time. That they’d make up after this and continue life together just as they had planned. But, nobody could expect what would come next. Her resignation from the BAU shaking the whole team as she left a note on Hotch’s desk, along with her pistol and badge the next morning.

The rest of the team had dispersed after the meeting ended, preparing to enter the field. Yet, Spencer had stayed behind in hopes that he could just steal a couple minutes with her.

“Y/N…,” he spoke softly. Grabbing her attention as she picked up the rest of the files. Hardly noticing that everyone else had just left and it was just the two of them.

Her expression was unreadable. A mix of anger, sadness, guilt, and….regret? washed over her. She knew that she would run into them, him, again someday but now that — that day was finally here. All she wanted to do was crawl out of his skin, runaway, and hide. But she knew she had to face her fear, even if it meant bringing up the past she fought so hard to forget.

“Reid,” she replied. Her blank stare meeting his hopeful, cautious one.

“I know I’m the last person that you want to be talking to but-“

“We can talk.” She cut him off. Taking him for surprise as she walked by him to close the door to the room.

Turning back around to face him, she motioned him to sit which he obliged. Setting his bag down as he studied her every move until she was sat across from him. Face-to-face.

The silence between them was deafening. Neither of them didn’t know what to say until Spencer finally gained the courage to speak.

“I didn’t know that you’d be here,” he began. His voice unsteady, attempting to cover the thick emotion he felt.

“Neither did I,” she replied, “I didn’t think that you would show. Let alone that our paths would cross again.”

It was true. Everyone thought that she had left the BAU for good and moved on with her life until — she decided to come back. Relocating herself to California where she made her way up the ranks. Before landing her role as head of the unit. Reid didn’t know it. She kept is touch with JJ even after all these years. Both of them being not only her best friends, but the godparents to her boys as well. Y/N and JJ spoke frequently. A phone call once a week was mandatory for them and it crushed JJ knowing she had to keep this secret from Spencer.

If he found out, he would never forgive her.

But she swore that she would never tell him. And she didn’t. This was her little secret and the way she was able to still feel close to the ones she once called home — her family.

Spencer nodded, running a shaky hand through his hair, “It’s been….a long time.”

“It has,” she said softly, picking at the skin on her fingers, “But you seem to be…the same.”

He laughed, a small and self-deprecating laugh, “You don’t. You’ve changed — in a good way, of course. You seem more confident. Stronger.”

She smiled, looking down at her hands to ‘examine’ her manicure. “Time will do that to you.”

There was another moment of silence before Spencer blurted out, “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Her head snapped up, eyes finally looking up to meet his.

“Spencer—“

“I know this is sudden,” he interrupted, his voice rushed and attempting to gather his thoughts into actual words and sentences that would make sense, “but seeing you again, it’s….it’s like everything that I, that we, have tried to bury just came back. I missed you. A lot. More than I can actually put into words. And I know that it has been years…eight, eight long years, but—“

“Spencer,” she said, cutting him off, “We can’t just act like everything that happened between us didn’t happen.”

His chest tightened again, “I know…I know,” running another hand through his hair, “But—“

“But what? You knew exactly what you were you doing. You weren’t thinking. You never think, you let your ego get too much in the way and it almost costed you..you your fucking life,” She exclaimed.

“Y/N….I can explain—“

“Explain want, Spencer? We talked about this several times. You knew my boundaries, my fears, my past and you still chose to step into that building knowing that unsub would put a gun to your head—“

“I had no choice,” he pushed back.

“Yes, you did!,” she yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“No—“

“You had a fucking choice, Spencer. And you chose, to not wait for backup when we had already called it. They were on their way and you knew that. You didn’t care—“

“Stop it,” Spencer snapped, his patience with you growing thin.

“You said you wanted to talk so now we’re talking,” you seethed. The rage you felt eight years ago seeping its way back in.

“So will you let me speak? Or are you not going to let me get a single word in,” he retorted. His own anger visible all over his face.

“You can talk,” you spoke sharply, extending an exaggerated hand as if to say ‘make it worth my time.’

Spencer inhaled before letting out a shaky breath, you two hated conflict yet here you were. Arguing like a divorced couple settling over who gets which kid.

“I know you’re mad,” she hummed, fighting to make a smart ass comment back at him, “And I know that I said and did a lot of things that have upset you.”

She bit her lip, “But I need you to understand that I would never put you in a place to lose me. I know our job is scary. And any moment, someone could kidnap us, hold us hostage, or even put a gun to our head,” he breathed.

The gravity of what he was saying was true. She knew what they had both signed up for when they decided to become a part of a BAU. But still, she feared what could’ve happened to him that day.

He took his hand in hers, never breaking eye contact as both of their eyes welled with tears. “That day was the worst day of my life. Not only for the fact, that you were right, I didn’t think and almost lost my life. But also because I knew you’d never forgive me for the decision that I made,” he croaked.

“I was scared, Spence,” She sobbed. Her emotions that she tried to bury since he got her finally got the best of her.

“I know, my sweet girl, I know,” he murmured wiping the tears that rolled down her face, “I can’t take back what I did but every day, since you left, I knew why you left. I never stopped thinking…I regretted everything. I wanted to reach out so bad but—“

“By that time it was too late, I had already turned in my badge and gun. Told Hotch I was leaving,” she sniffled.

He nodded solemnly, “I still replay the moment that I found out in my head,” it was his turn to look down at his hands. The room suddenly growing claustrophobic.

“You were the one person I never wanted to leave. I told myself that it was for the best. That I wouldn’t get hurt again. That it would be easier for both of us that way,” she murmured.

Spencer’s head snapped up, “Easier?,” he echoed what she had just said. His voice filled with disbelief. “It was anything but easy. I spent every night, I spend…every night thinking about what I could’ve done different. If I didn’t go into that building, alone, that we’d still be together. Married, with kids, sitting on our wrapped around porch, reading novels and drinking coffee..and living the life we’ve always promised to each other by now.”

Her heart broke at his confession. JJ had told her how hard the breakup hit him. Yet, she still held a grudge for what he had put her through and refused to ever go back.

That was until now, as the same man she swore she would never forgive or take back sat right in front of her.

“Spence….,” she sighed.

“I know,” he whispered, “But seeing you now…after all these years, I don’t know if I can just walk away and pretend that what had didn’t matter. Because it did. It still does.”

“Eight years is a lot. That’s over half-a-decade—“

“Over half-a-decade I spent waiting and dreaming for this moment to finally make things right between us.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. The door twisted open, revealing no one other than JJ.

“Uhm. Sorry to interrupt. Hotch wants you two, we’re heading to the crime scene now.”

“Tell him we’ll be there in a few,” she replied. JJ nodded, leaving the room as they sat there for a moment. Taking in what the other had just said.

“Look Y/N—“

“Spencer, we have a case to focus on. We’ll talk about this, us, later. A little girls life depends on us.” She quipped, standing up as she head to walk out of the briefing room herself.

“I never stopped loving you,” he jumped up. Grabbing her wrist, causing her to turn around as she looked up at him.

Snatching her wrist from him, she sighed. Shaking her head before gathering the remainder of her stuff, walking out. Leaving him with not only a broken heart but wondering if things between them could ever mend itself.

[cosmicanemoia]

Got to Believe in Magic

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

This has been collecting dust in my notebook for quite some time now. It is supposed to have two more chapters, but I couldn't get to it. Anyway, I just want to share this here so...

After the said interview, Melissa realizes that you are exactly what she’s looking for… in a tenant.

You find it hard to sleep every night. You have tried everything… literally everything; even the pills (after some time) didn’t help much.

And every morning, you find it hard to get up and start your day. Instead of feeling rested, you just feel more tired than ever.

Your girlfriend had just broken up with you, kicking you out of your shared apartment. You don’t mind staying at some fancy hotel (you are actually loving it), but your bank account really does. You realize that you need to find an affordable place to live or else you’ll be bankrupt (given your teacher’s salary).

–

Melissa had just kicked Jacob out of her home. No matter how she enjoys finding a new best friend in him; she doesn’t like the number of boys Jacob brings into her house.

But of course not after he found a new place ‘to whore’ himself out. Melissa blatantly told him and in turn he could only nod in understanding.

–

Jacob (your fellow 8th grade teacher) told you the whole story of how he got kicked out of his friend’s house, without unnecessary and unrelated details that you could only wish to escape.

After half an hour, he suddenly widens his eyes and grins at you. You just look at him dumbfoundedly and urge him to continue, “what?”

“I just had the most brilliant idea.” he declares, and you just raise your brows as a response. “Aren’t you looking for a place? I’ll recommend you to Melissa.” he beams, and you just simply reply, “Yeah, sure… whatever.”

Jacob rushes over to the break room on the ground floor to find Melissa and tell her the good news. “I just found you the perfect tenant. You’re going to love her. Would you like to interview her?”

“I doubt there is such a thing as perfect, but sure, kid. I need the extra income anyway.” Melissa replied to him.

Jacob then rushes to the break room upstairs from where you are eating. He sees you and grabs you by your shoulder and drags you to where Melissa is. “Woah! What are you doing? I’m still eating.” You asked, and he simply replies, “Melissa agreed to interview you… and you’re almost done. Let’s go.” You scoff and chuckle at him “I didn’t know it would be right now.”

–

That is how you find yourself now having an “interview” ‘more like interrogation’ you thought to yourself in the break room with ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You recall her telling you not to call her by her first name ‘cause you don’t know each other very well.

After the said interview, Melissa realizes that you are exactly what she’s looking for… in a tenant.

She finds out that you’re quiet and keeps to yourself, not nosy, but not a push-over, and many more qualities she admires and likes… in a tenant.

Melissa turns to Jacob to ask, “where did you find her? Is she a newbie?”

Barbara can’t help but scoff and reply, “she’s not a newbie; she has been here longer than Jacob and Janine.”

Melissa turns to her friend in shock… “you know her?”

Gregory can’t help but chide in, “We all know her. I thought you knew her too– and that’s why you agreed to do the interview.”

Barbara added, “very resourceful woman. She once fixed the leak in our sink when Gerald and I invited her over.”

Melissa, who was dumbfounded, can't help but declare, “how come I’m only hearing about her now?”

Ava barges in before anyone could answer her question. “What are y’all talkin’ about?” She asks as she pours almost all of the sugar available into her coffee.

Jacob answers, “we’re talking about Y/N.”

Ava ooh’ed at the revelation and declares “she sleeps with one of y’all. I see.”

The small group simultaneously says, “WHAT?!” turning their heads in the principal’s direction. Ava shimmies her shoulder in response… she grins and claims “that girl is a beast.” and makes her exit.

Everyone turns to look at each other with confusion written on their faces.

Barbara speaks out, “I don’t know who she’s talking about. She must be mistaken because that woman is nothing but an angel sent from above.”

Melissa scoffs and snides, “yeah, right.”

All their heads turn to Jacob. Melissa asks, “you know something? you guys are close, right?” He replies, “I don’t know. I mostly do the talking; she’s quiet and keeps to herself… Maybe Ava is mistaken.” Barbara adds with her brows raised, “she surely must be.”

The bell rings, signalling that break time is over.

–

“Can I help you with your things?” Melissa offers, but you refuse, “no, thank you. I have it covered.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, and you reply, “I’m sure. Thanks for the offer.”

After a few moments…

“Done already?” Melissa stands at your door frame.

“Yeah. I don’t have a lot of things, so there isn't much to unpack.” You shrug.

“Well, I’ll leave you be. I hope you won’t be a pain in the ass type of tenant.” She jokes, and you humour her, “I’ll try, boss. I’ll try.”

“See you around.” Melissa turns and walks away, and you say, as she leaves, “you too, Ms. Schemmenti.”

You slump in your bed and start trying to sleep, but you can’t help but think… and you don’t know how, but somehow your thoughts have drifted to the woman of the house.

–

You see Melissa Schemmenti at school. You have heard a lot of things about her from Jacob. You sometimes pass each other in the hallways. You’d be lying if you say you weren’t attracted to her… she is a very attractive woman. That attraction never developed into anything more, and you thought that never in a million years would she go for you, let alone notice you. So, you push that feeling out and never think about it again. You smile to yourself. You can’t believe that you are now living under the roof of your former crush. You fell asleep thinking about her.

–

It had been three days since you moved in in Melissa’s spare room. She realizes that you are indeed quiet and that you really keep to yourself. She had just finished cooking, and she thought, ‘what’s the harm?’. She lays another plate and goes to your room. When she got there, she knocked… no answer. She knocks once again and calls out your name, and still no answer. ‘She must be asleep,’ Melissa thought to herself. She knocks more aggressively and calls for you a little louder, but no answer still.

Just when Melissa’s about to try again one last time, she hears the front door open and shut. ‘She wasn’t asleep, she was out,’ she thought to herself. She’s been doing that a lot lately, thinking to herself ever since she met you for the interview, and the contradicting comments she got about you from her best friend and the principal gnaws at her.

“Hey, hun. I was knocking at your door just now, and there’s no one answering.” Melissa greeted you.

“Uh, yeah… I was– um, out.” You scratch the back of your neck and nod in her direction.

You just stood there, staring at each other, and gave her an awkward smile. There is silence, but you wouldn’t describe it as uncomfortable.

“So, what can I help you with?” You break the silence as you walk past her.

“What makes you think I need your help?” Melissa sneered.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, but you weren’t fazed, “uh- I just… you said you were knocking at my door earlier, right?”

“Oh! that,” she chuckles, “I was going to ask if you’ve been eaten and if you’d like to join me for dinner.”

“Oh.” You stare at her, and she tilts her head to the side, waiting for you to say something more.

“I would love to. Really, I do. I’ve been waiting to taste you –r cooking, but unfortunately I have already eaten.” You declare, and Melissa depletes a little at that new information, but nobody notices.

You walk towards her and grab her wrist softly yet firmly. You look her in her eyes and say, “maybe next time.”

Melissa beams, and she bears what you just said in her mind. ‘maybe next time.’ she mentally notes to put more effort into it, for when that next time comes.

The redhead doesn’t know anything about you, but she sure does have a good night after that interaction with you. She even forgot her peaking curiosity earlier about where you have been.

–

Ava barges in the break room with a devilish grin plastered on her face, “your girl’s been busy last night, Jacob.”

Everyone turns their head towards the principal. Jacob asked, “what? What girl?”

Ava replied, “Y/N, who else? ” side-eyeing Janine.

Jacob urges her to go on, “what about her?”

The principal rolls her eyes, “I thought you two are best friends? Anyway, a friend of mine sent this to me… ” She shows everyone something on her phone.

Barbara shakes her head, not believing what she just saw. Melissa’s eyes widened at the sight. Gregory and Janine chuckled, and Jacob cheered, “yes, get it, girl!”

Mr. Johnson chides in, “y’all are amused by that? Try going out with her. There’s this one time that I went with her, I thought she abandoned me, but then she introduced me to this hot couple who asked me if I wanted to have a thr–”

The door to the break room suddenly opens before the custodian can finish his sentence, and you walk in. “Hey, Hill, I thought you’d join me for lunch… You know how waiting makes me feel.”

You let your eyes wander and soon realize that they’re all staring at you. “You all looked like you’ve just seen a ghost,” you quipped, “I’m sorry for barging in like that– I should have knocked.”

The room is still silent and awkward. Mr. Johnson decides to break it, “Hey, Y/L/N, are we still on this friday?”

“Of course, Mr. J,” you simply replied. You then look at Jacob and raise your brow at him, “well, are you joining me or not? you know I can’t go hungry.”

“Girl, we know,” Ava quickly affirms, then walks out of the room.

With that, Melissa’s curiosity about you just grows and grows.

Saturday afternoon, you were making yourself a snack. You didn’t notice Melissa in her living room, but she for sure did notice you, with your hair tied up in a messy bun, oversized shirt with no bra (she guessed), and very short shorts. You turn around, and you see your landlord staring at you, making you almost drop your food.

“God, Mel– I mean, Ms. Schemmenti, you startled me,” you remark.

Melissa is pulled out of her thoughts when you speak. “I guess you can call me ‘Mel’ now that you’re living under my roof.”

You smile at her in response, and the redhead’s stomach flutters… so, she thought she must be hungry. “Okay, have a nice day, Mel,” you uttered.

“Wait, stop,” she commands, and that makes you halt. You slowly turn to face her and stride towards her, then you inquire, “yeah– what is it?”

She watches as you chew on your food and how you stuff it still even though it seems full. She lightly chuckles and mutters, “you’re so goofy.”

“Huh?” You respond, and she quickly retorts, her voice now loud and clear, “I said I make a mean lasagna.”

You nod, “I’m sure you do. I heard so much about your cooking from Jacob.”

The voluptuous woman declares, “I’m making them for tonight.”

“Good to know.” You smile and nod at her, starting to turn and walk away, but Mel adds, “you can watch and learn if you want, then have a bite or two when I’m done.”

“Really?” You ask, and she just shrugs, “sure.”

“Cool. I’ll be in my room, just call me before you start. I don’t want to miss out on any process.” you said and walked back to your room.

‘What the hell just happened?’ Mel thought to herself.

The truth is she wasn’t planning on doing anything for dinner tonight. She said to herself that she’ll just order some fast food. She checked her fridge and cupboard and found that all the ingredients she needed were there. She sighs ‘I guess I have to call her now.’

You’d offer to help but decide against it, not wanting to hold her back. So, you just sat there watching the woman of the house in her element. A smile starts to spread on your face, and you mutter, “you’re beautiful.”

“Wipe that grin off your face or I’ll wipe it off for you,” she blushed.

After a few moments, she puts the casserole in the oven and says, “now, we just have to wait for a few more moments.” She clasped her hands together and stood there proudly.

“Just in time for dinner.” you declare.

You moan, “oh god– mmm,” with your eyes closed, and the chef’s face flushed at the sight.

“Mel, wow! This is so good!” You complimented after your first few bites.

Melissa is proud of herself, very evident by the shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“Did you know that lasagna is one of my least liked foods?” you commented.

“I didn’t know that. You sure seem to be loving it now.” Melissa remarked.

“I am. Yours is the only lasagna I’ll ever eat.” you replied.

“No. Let me wash the dishes. You’ve already done so much today. Making that heavenly food takes a lot of effort. It’s only fair that I do this, so let me.” You argued after you cleaned the table.

You somehow sense that she’s going to fight you. So, you grab her hand and drag her to the living room. You tell her to sit down, and she quickly follows. You open the T.V. and give her the remote. You tell her to wait for a minute, and then you quickly disappear into the kitchen, but you come back as soon as you disappear, now with a bottle of wine (that she had been drinking earlier while she made the lasagna). You pour her a glass, grab her hand, and say, “relax and rest. I promise not to break anything.”

After washing the dishes, you see Melissa sleeping on the couch. You assume she wouldn’t want to wake up on a sofa (because you wouldn’t want it for yourself), so you lightly nudge her shoulder. ‘She looks so serene,’ you thought.

The sleeping beauty slowly opens her eyes and hums. “Let’s get you to bed,” and you help her get in her room.

“Thanks for the marvellous dinner, Mel,” you thank her before you retire to your room.

Morning comes, and Melissa wakes up and sees a cup of water and ibuprofen as she sits up. She smiles to herself and takes a sip from the cup. She didn’t take the ibuprofen because she didn’t have a headache. She just feels warm and fuzzy, ‘it’s a friggin miracle. I didn’t have a headache.’

–

Monday came. The teachers gather at the break room. Ava once again barges in. She types something on her phone. The small group receives a text, and their phones pinged simultaneously.

Mr. Johnson played the video on his phone with his speaker on full volume. It was loud, there was music, and people were cheering.

Melissa opens the message. It was a video of you getting a lap dance from a random girl. She sees red and she doesn’t know why, so she closes her phone with a huff and frowns, but no one notices that.

“When was this?” Barb asked.

“That was saturday.” Ava replied.

“What?!” Melissa questions, “are you sure this is her? ‘cause I was with her saturday.”

“Until midnight?” Ava inquired in return.

Melissa shakes her head no.

“That’s what I thought.” Ava deadpans.

–

You see Melissa in the hallway, so you try to greet her, “hey, Mel.”

Melissa just rolls her eyes at you and huffs as she passes you by.

‘Did she just roll her eyes at me?’ You scoffed.

Later that night, you decided to knock at Melissa’s door to ask and talk to her.

You ask her if you have done something wrong. She says that she’s just pissed off earlier. About what, she wouldn’t tell.

–

Jacob, Janine, and Gregory went out clubbing, and they somehow convinced the two veterans to tag along.

You are at the same club.

Ava is there too, and even Mr. Johnson.

Melissa was the first to notice you, but she didn’t say anything to the others.

Until Barb asked if it was you across the room, and they all agreed that it was you.

You were sitting on a stool, alone, so Melissa decides to approach you, but before she could get to you, another woman hugs you from behind and then sits beside you.

You see Melissa from the corner of your eyes, so you excuse yourself from your best friend to go and talk to her.

Melissa ignored you and went to the bathroom. You followed her, and when you got in, she quickly shut the door and lunged at you and kissed you desperately. She realizes that you aren’t moving, so she stops and pulls away, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I know your girlfriend’s just outside…” she whispered ever so softly.

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She was about to walk out, but you grabbed her and pulled her towards you, and kissed her just as desperately.

When you both pulled away for a much needed air, you both sighed contentedly.

“What about your girlfriend outside?” She asked.

“I wasn’t aware I have a girlfriend,” you answered, “but if you mean the woman outside, she’s just my best friend. Do I smell jealousy?”

“I am not jealous.” She scoffed.

“I never said you are… though you looked a little green earlier.” You remarked.

“Shut up and just kiss me again.” She commanded.

Melissa wakes up from her dream. As she sits up, she whispers to herself 'I'm fucked.'

[cruise-in-your-glow-bus]

Terzo + Valentines Day for @discountdemonwarehouse

Terzo is, of course, a romantic. 

He loves it all: Flowers, expensive chocolates, wine, overblown dramatic gestures that are just this side of embarrassing because he wants his lovers to feel deeply appreciated. And who wouldn’t love all that, right? 

Being shown off. Being paraded around. Being held up as Papa’s current favorite, the apple of his eye, his sweetheart…

“It’s just a little… overwhelming,” you confess to him – literally, it takes going to confession to admit what’s been troubling you since around New Year’s. Then, he’d held you close and kissed you as the countdown had reached its peak, declaring to anyone within earshot that you were his precious treasure, the other half of his soul… Then, though, everyone else had been a little preoccupied with their own midnight kisses, and it had been easier. 

“What are you saying, cara?” Papa asks you from the other side of the ornate wooden screen. “You do not like receiving my attentions?”

“No! No, I like it, I just…” You bite your lip, suddenly uncertain. Is it fair to be with someone as extravagant and romantic and demonstrative as Papa and ask him to change? You knew what he was, all glowing radiance, a light towards which every eye was drawn. Anyone who stood beside him must be prepared for the same intense adoration. Or scrutiny. 

Or jealousy. 

“It’s fine,” you hasten to reassure him. “It’s nothing. I love you.”

“And I you,” comes his smooth, easy reassurance. You can just make out the black-and-white of his paints and the expressive play of emotions on his face through the screen. “I would never want to do anything you do not adore, carissima.”

“I love all of you,” you tell him, and it’s true. “I adore you. Just as you are.”

–

It’s a coward’s move, but what else can you do? It’s Papa, for Satan’s sake. You walk away from confessional feeling just as guilty as before, if not more. Your nights are spent at his side, above him, beneath him, grasping him tightly as you ride and strive together to honor pleasure in all its beautiful forms, and it’s bliss, it’s wickedness and bliss, and each time shines like a jewel in your memory. 

Terzo is a romantic. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he guides you towards oblivion, fingers delving deep to stroke and caress and provoke. And then, when his mouth is full of your praise and your hands are tangled in his dark hair, he gives you everything you ask for, even if he sometimes likes to hear you beg for it. 

He is everything to you. Teacher, lover, friend, counsel. Papa. Terzo. Clean lines of paint and booming voice up at the pulpit, or clean-washed and soap-scented, damp from his favorite too-hot showers, dark hair slicked back and the curls at his chest leading down, down to temptation and satisfaction. 

You willingly get on your knees to worship him, as he worships you. 

Still, though, the thought consumes you. 

After, when you lay together in his massive bed, on his lilac silk sheets, nestled up against his sweat-cooling skin, breathing him in and basking in the afterglow, your mind cannot help but concoct increasingly dramatic scenarios of what he’s going to do for Valentine’s day. 

It all culminates in a nightmare involving a massive stuffed teddy bear that chases you down the hall. Silly, like all dreams are silly once explained, but it makes your heart race and prompts him hold you close as the echoes of absurd terror shudder through you. 

“Only I should make your heart race like this, carissima.” His earnest horniness disarms you, makes you laugh. You settle back into his arms, and sleep. 

The days count down. 

What is he planning? 

You have no way to prepare, and no way to brace yourself. 

Because when he does… whatever it is he’s going to do, you know your face will flush, and not from joy. All those eyes watching you, jealous of the attention Papa lavishes on his most precious beloved. How many of them would sell your soul to Behemoth for one corn chip to have a fraction of that attention? How many of them would you absolutely agree with, because - yet again - it’s Papa. 

As effusive as Terzo is in all of his, well, everything, he gives no hint, betrays not a single scrap of information about his Valentine’s Day plans. 

And so, you wait. 

—

The day dawns, bright and clear and very cold. For a day devoted to love, you think, it ought to be warmer, perhaps. Or, you consider, lazing around in Terzo’s bed, listening to him shower and debating joining him if it weren’t so damn cozy, maybe a cold day is the right idea. 

He’d made love to you last night, drawing it out and bringing you to the edge and back until you’d begged him for satisfaction. He’d denied his own pleasures to serve you, and then given of himself in every way you’d asked. Even in the chill of the room your face grows warm to remember it. Between your thighs there is a pleasant soreness, an ache like the first breath after a kiss. 

The shower turns off and a moment later, Terzo emerges. He has one plush towel wrapped very low around his hips and is drying his hair with a second one. Fresh-faced, kissed by morning sunlight, eyes sparkling with mischief and unabated love, he takes your breath away. 

“Busy day today, carissima,” he tells you. “I hope this is okay?”

You nod. “Of course. What’s up?”

Terzo launches into a whole rant that’s about 80/20 English and Italian about the various meetings and things he has to attend. A particularly insistent Cardinale from Linköping, who seems to be Sister Imperator’s new favorite creature, has pulled Terzo’s attention whether he likes it or not. He kisses you goodbye for the day, a kiss that deepens and quickly descends into a highlight reel of the night before, before he finally dresses, fixes his paints, and blows you a kiss from the doorway. 

From there, you brace yourself. 

You glance around every corner, certain that his meetings are just a ruse. You watch over your shoulders, getting caught only by the perfectly reasonable displays of affection shared between siblings. You trip on a loose book and catch an earful from a very odd, unfamiliar Cardinal who has eyes that are so similar to Terzo’s that it takes your breath away for a moment; he stammers his way through telling you that St. Valentine was also the patron saint of beekeeping and epilepsy, a new fun fact you have no idea what to do with. 

When is the other shoe going to drop? When is it going to happen? 

But nothing happens. 

In fact, your heart starts to sink when you reach the end of the day and realize… he hasn’t done anything. 

No flowers. No chocolates. No grandiose displays…

That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Nothing big, nothing showy. Nothing embarrassing. Nothing to draw attention or jealousy. So why are you sad about it? 

He forgot. 

You walk back after dinner to Terzo’s room, feet dragging as the conflicting emotions battle within you. Technically speaking, you do have your own rooms; maybe that’s where you could go tonight. Just to be alone with your thoughts. 

Sounds horrible, but not anywhere near as horrible as the thought that… that Papa doesn’t want you. 

“Sister?” Omega is waiting by the door to Papa’s rooms. Tall and towering, silver-masked and stoic as always. “Papa asked me to escort you–”

It’s almost enough to completely confirm all of your fearful suspicions. Expecting Omega to lead you back to your own room, you’re shocked by the sudden burst of cold air as he leads you out towards the greenhouses. 

“Where are we going?”

“To Papa,” is all he says. 

He leads you to the greenhouse and stands outside. Clearly waiting for you to go in. 

–

He is waiting for you. 

A blanket spread out beside a row of glorious roses, full bloom and heady with their scent. Laid out before you both is a simple dinner - well, simple for Terzo. Wine and cheese, four courses, an indulgent dessert. He doesn’t do most things by halves, not even this. 

“For you, carissima.” His eyes shine with pride and love, no less showy in their adoration, but private, only for you. “Just you.”

Your eyes well up with tears, your heart wells with emotion. It’s something more than love or lust or desire. Something deeper.

Trust. 

Safety. 

Understanding. 

Terzo sits down with you on the blanket, pulling a second one around your shoulders to ward off the chill. He goes to pour a glass of wine for you, but you stop him, pulling him close to kiss him and pouring all of your emotion into that kiss. 

The wine is forgotten. The food lays out, ignored, as he lays you down and indulges. Thank you, you say, wordless and with your body’s every gesture, every touch, every sigh. Thank you. I love you. 

Terzo answers, in every way that he can.

[weeping-fairy]

My first lil writing. Just Spencer Reid smut

Please be constructive, this is literally the first time I've ever written something like this. MDNI 18+

It has crying, unprotected pnv, multiple orgasms, non specific body size, sorta friends to lovers, sorta sub spencer, and ya things like that.

word count: 3131

Spencer has always had a thing for you. 

Poor guy could never admit that though. I mean you, in his eyes, is probably the most stunning person he had ever seen. Its not like he would watch from afar, no you guys are good friends. Every time you guys hang out he has a new fact to tell you, wanting to impress you. He especially loves to tell you things that he knows you are interested in. If you talk about anything he's researching it, trying to understand it the way you do. Its his way of getting closer to you. Him being an intellectual, he loves learning your brain. Youve even taught him a few things, mostly about social interactions, something he is not too good at. He studies the way you effortlessly coast through an awkward situation, how you avoid saying certain things, how you know when to talk and when not to. Its absolutely fascinating to him, how much you know about strangers. He's a profiler, and he's glad he gets to use his training to learn you. 

Whenever he comes home, he always goes to you. This case was particularly hard for him as it hit close to home. He couldn't help but to think of you. The victims friend deeply in love with her. She died the day he was going to tell her. And he had the misfortune of interrogating him for her murder. 

Through tears he explains, "Please you have to believe me, I had nothing to do with this.." the man unable to breathe, Spencer interrupts:

"What did you do when you found out about her boyfriend?"

The subject completely dumbfounded, "Her what?"

Spencer could tell he was being genuine, he had no idea about any boyfriend, he didn't kill her in a jealous rage, he loved her, and she will never know how much. 

Spencer had wished that you were there, to change the subject, or maybe provide your calming presence for the troubled man. If anyone could get him out of this, it would be you. After that awkward interview he couldn't push you out of his mind, how similar this situation is to his own. You could die, and you will never know how he feels. He starts to overthink on the jet ride home. 

"I've waited too long, she wouldn't like me back." 

"It doesn't matter, nobody wants the burden of being with me, I'm never home, she deserves someone who could be by her side"

"And what if by some sort of miracle she likes me back? then what, my job will put her in danger. everyone that i touch is murdered. Maybe i should just stay away, it'll help the both of us"

You knew that Spencer must've been having a hard time. He always keeps tabs on you, texting you everyday, occasionally a call if he gone for more than a week. 

This time its different, he hasn't gotten back at all. Its not total silence, but its enough to get you worried. 

You decide to text: "Hey, I hope every thing is ok, you haven't been talking to me as much. I'm not upset, i know that sometimes cases get hard and draining. I just want to be there for you if you want to talk about it, or something else to get your mind off of it. I look forward to hanging out when you get back, stay safe!"

His response is cold, which only worsens your anxiety

"Just a hard case. Don't want to get into it."

That's all? Spencer is never like this, ever. You can feel your heart drop, tears form. 

"Did i do something? Did i push to far, hurt him by accident?" You start to cry, but still respond:

"That's ok, let me know if you need anything at all, alright?" No response. A day later you stopped by his place, unannounced. He opens the door, obliviously surprised that its you. His eyes widen, he always looks at you like that. It makes your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. 

"hey i hope this ok, i just missed you." you end the what felt like a long pause. He says nothing, instead moving out your way to let you in. Its like second nature, he cant even think when he lets you in, he just knows he needs you around. 

You enter the space, you've been there 1000x before but this time there's an undeniable tension, it makes you nervous. Your head swirling with negative thoughts, worried that he hates you, you must've said something to trigger this behavior right?

When you show up at his house he's in awe. He had been pushing you away, the newest case affecting him in ways that made him uncomfortable. Made him face feelings that he had known were there but pushed away. But there you were anyways, in his home, just you. It had been too long, and just your presence had put him at ease. Due to the abnormal distance from you he was also unbelievably turned on. This always happens on long cases, but usually he would call you, listen to your voice as you fall asleep. The soft, tired tone of your voice enough to make him cum without even touching himself. But this case was different, he pushed you away on purpose, and he had deprived himself of these small moments to keep his raging hormones at bay. He could text you or call you and then fuck his fist and act like he didn't just imagine you in a very compromising position. But now here you were, at his door. Your face flushed, eyes tired. You weren't wearing anything revealing, but that didn't stop him from imagining what was underneath the clothes. It took everything in him not to stare at the way your shirt stretched over your breasts. He moves aside to let you in, his eyes fall to your ass as you walk past him. Your scent trails behind you, it was subtle. Your perfume complimenting your natural scent perfectly. He watches as you turn to face him, your big eyes looking up at him, a pleading look in your eyes. You don't need to speak. 

"Im so sorry," he whispers. You cut him off.

"did i do something?" your voice threatening to break.

He thinks to himself "fucking idiot, she's about to cry because of you and the only thing you can think of is how you want to be buried between her thighs," his mind drifts for a second before responding, thinking about how heavenly your moans would sound muffled, your thighs pressed up against his ears. In fact he doesn't respond, all the pessimism that had plagued his mind, gone. Instead he steps forward and places a hand on your cheek. He looks at your lips and moves in. Just doing it. 

Feeling his hand on your face made your cheeks burn. A pool forms at the bottom of your stomach. Then he does it, he kisses you, a soft, surprised moan slips out. This only serves to turn him on more. Kissing you deeper now, your lips part just enough for his tongue to slip in. This makes you step back, your back is met with the closed door. He moves with you, caging you in. His hands move to your hips, gripping the soft fat of your hips. His hands creep under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your bare skin. You stop him,

"Wait," you say breathless, "what's going spencer?"

His forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, he begins to speak, years of feelings coming out in one single word:

"Please." Then his eyes blink open to be met with your own. Your pupils blown. You don't respond with words but a passionate kiss, your hands tangling in his hair. You dont know what led up to this, but that doesn't matter right now. Your mind consumed with the pleasure of his lips against yours. He starts backing away from the door, his hands still under your shirt, on your waist leading you to the couch. He sits down, holding you still looking up at you, he gently tugs you to straddle his lap. No words, just staring at each other with lust and longing. He holds your face in his hands and admires you. He kisses you again, gentle. He keeps your head in his hands and kisses from your lips, to your jaw, down to your neck. He cradles your head as he continues, moaning against your skin. The taste of just your skin is magnificent. You can feel his bulge press against you, at first you sit up a bit, but as you melt under his soft moans and gentle kisses, you sit down. The feeling of your bodies joining elicits a moan from the both of you. He moves his head from the crook of your neck to look at you, his face flushed. 

"I'm sorry, i cant help it, vie needed this for so long," he whines, bucking his hips against you. You meet him in the middle, grinding against him, your face falls to the crook of neck. 

He pleads "no no please, i need to see your pretty face"

You look at him. He leans back on the couch and keeps a firm grip on your hips, not guiding you, but keeping you firmly pressed against him. 

"yes yes please, god you are so beautiful," his voice breaking, tears forming. 

"please keep going, please i could cum just like this," tears falling now

You slow down a bit and hold his face, "what's wrong? spencer you are crying"

In a sheepish tone he responds, "please don't stop, i just need you so bad, you are all i think about please, please"

His hands tighten around your hips in an effort to get you back to the pace you were at before. But this doesn't work, you stop.

"Please spencer, what is wrong?"

A quiet sob comes out and he hugs you, "I just- this case. it made me think about you and I'm tired of pretending that everything you do doesn't affect me. Even the most insignificant things are like their kind of art when preformed by you. Ive written poems about the soft sound of your breathing when the conversation hits a lull. And i cant act like im not completely enchanted by you. I cant ever let you go without telling you that, without you knowing that i am completely smitten with you."

You hold him as he admits this, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the same way. You hold him as he sobs.

"Spencer, lets go lay down ok?" You say as you stand up off of him. You lay in his bed and hold him, his ear placed against your heart he calms down. A comfortable silence falls between the both of you. you break it:

"Spencer?," you whisper, almost afraid to break the ease the quiet has provided.

"yes?" He responds in the same, yet more eager tone

"You know i love you too.." 

He looks up at you and kisses you, shifting his body on top of yours, then he stops himself:

"We can go slow, im sorry im just eager"

You reassure him, "No please, dont stop, i need this too."

He does not need to be told twice, the blood rushing to his groin as the words leave your mouth. He shifts between your legs and kisses your neck as he grinds against you. His ear at the perfect place to hear every one of the soft moans fall from your lips. He leaves open mouth, sloppy kisses against your neck, groaning at the taste of your skin. He desperately rubs against you, his hands going under your shirt, massaging your breasts. You buck your hips up, you moan his name and he stops, meeting your gaze. He gives a confused expression.

"take it off spencer, dont stop please"

He does, for a second his brain short circuits. Staring at you topless, it was better than he could've ever imagined. His face moves to the crook between your breasts. Kissin you with reverence. A whimper falls from his mouth with each kiss. Whispering sweet pleasantries' into your skin.

"you are so soft, so sweet"

"thank you so much, so beautiful" 

His mouth attaches to your nipple while his hand rests atop the other. Sucking your nipple into a hard bud, then doing the same to the other. As happy as he is right now he wants something more, he kisses down your body, gripping at the waist band of your pants and pulling them down. Its like hes in a trance. You aren't complaining, lifting your hips so he can pull everything off. He looks down at you, you look up at him. There's a vulnerability in your eyes, you are almost completely naked on his bed and he has yet to take anything off. He notices this and holds your face,

"whats wrong?" he questions further, "did i do something wrong?"

You assure him, "no no, just exposed is all and you aren't" You let out an awkward chuckle to bring light. He looks embarrassed as you bring this up, in his mind this was never about him, it was about you. He could cum in his pants by just sucking your breast all day if that's what you wanted. Although he craves your touch, it doesn't have the same effect as touching you. 

Hearing you. Tasting you. 

"You want me naked?" you cant help but to laugh at the question.

"well isn't that how this usually goes?" He smiles at you and rushes to take his clothes off. He just wants to get back to kissing you. You both share giddy giggles as he gets back on top of you. He kisses you, its sweet. Its beautiful, there's no fear. Nothing about spencer has ever frightened you, even when all he wants to do is ravage you he still stops and slows down. He always notices your face, hes studied every expression you make. With spencer you feel known. As the kissing gets deeper he moves to your neck and back down your body. Kissing where the waistline of your underwear sits. Then he moves his head between your legs, kissing your clothed cunt. Lapping up your clothed core. Finally he cant take it, he pushes your panties to the side and starts. He kisses it before he eats it, worshiping his meal. He might as well have said grace. His tongue delves into your folds. Your taste causing him to moan against you. the vibrations shoot through your body. He attaches to your clit, licking and sucking as his fingers graze your entrance. As he continues he cant help but to hump the mattress. He cant stop it. Your moans and the way your body reacts to his touch is all to much for him. And when his fingers dive in, that's it for him. He stops for a second to look at your face. 

"her face.." he thinks to himself. your face contorted with pleasure. You look up at him, his fingers working you from within and his thumb rubs your swollen clit. 

"Sp-spencer" over and over. Its the only word your know. The familiar coil tightens in your stomach. You are close. You grip his shoulders, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

"please just like that," you whine. Its spencers turn to plead,

"Please i wanna make you feel good, please cum for me"

Finally it hits you like a ton of bricks, you clench around his fingers as he slows his ministrations, working you through. As you cum you moan his name, its like heroin to him, he loves it. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. The sight is something out of a museum. Your own personal art, a snapshot that will etch itself into your memory. You pull him to you and kiss him. The both of you moan as your lips attach. Your hand palms him through his boxers, he bites your bottom lip as he moans. Your hand reaches in his boxers and works him. His tip sticky with pre-cum. He whimpers in your neck.

"spencer i need you, i need you in me" 

He immediately springs into action, removing your panties and his own boxers. He lines himself and looks at you as his tip slips in. The ecstasy on your face, the way you let your head fall, and your jaw goes lax. He slowly moves until he bottoms out. His own eyes flutter shut, tears forming. 

"so so warm" he mumbles as he starts to thrust harder. Hes not fast but he is deep, pounding in deep. It almost knocks the air out of you, for a scrawny guy his thrusts are powerful. Tears falling from his eyes he rambles

"dont make me stop, im not sad you just feel amazing, i need this please"

"its ok spencer please keep going, you feel so good."

He hides in your neck, his hips still moving. he whimpers in your ear

"so good, so pretty, god i love you so much, thank you, thank you." His movements grow sloppier, you are close too, but hes a lot closer. 

"spencer please just a little longer, mmso close" more tears fall from his eyes as he fights to not finish, he reaches between the both of you and starts to rub your clit. The extra stimulation is just what you need.

"f-fuck spencer im cumming"

He slams into you a couple more times then cums deep inside you. He bites your neck to hide the pathetic moan/sob that falls from his mouth. He stays sheathed within your warmth as he catches his breath. the occasional "thank you" and "i love you" whispers come from him as he calms down. As he pulls out a gasp comes from the both of you. He watches his essence seep out of you. Then looks at your face. Your spent, sweat glistens against your forehead, your hair a mess. You reach your arms out to him, and he lays next to you. You lay your head on his chest. 

"spencer, that was perfect," you say, your voice raspy and raw. 

"i hope so, ive thought about that a lot" he holds you, rubbing your back lazily. You sit in silence till he hears your soft snores. He chuckles to himself and makes sure the blankets are snug around the both of you. He shuts his eyes and falls asleep, listening to his new favorite white noise. 

If yall hate it or have any pointers lemme know! I hope everyone enjoys, i think its nice. I'm sorry if its confusing or anything i wrote it in like a stream of conciseness

[lovelaetter]

⁺ [ 🎀 ] ✧ㅤִ minnie with an insane toxic vampire girlfriend... taking her blood and making her completely dizzy, poor girl can't even keep her eyes open! fucking her in her mind-gaze state, making her pass out a few seconds later because it's too much for her :(( but you didn't even bother to stop. who can blame you? you just want to make your girl feel good, in your sick way. ♡ my poor girl, keeping the term "i can fix her" on her head, but she can't even fix herself. :( swearing to her friends that you're a good person, which they obviously don't believe, not when she's talking with her neck and collarbone full of stains and bites from you, and some very visible and with a strong shade of purple, thank god she's wearing pants, because the situation on her lower thighs is not the best either. manipulating her to stay away from her own friends, making up lies about them, telling her that you are the only person she needs and should trust, making her only have you to seek comfort when she breaks down. maybe even thinking about killing some of her annoying friends to get rid of them faster, but you end up disappearing with only one because you don't want to see your girl so sad. ♡ sigh.. I want her so bad.

GIVE IT TO ME PLEASE 😭

MONSTERFUCKING, BLOOD PLAY, mild MINDBREAK

her really thinking she can fix you but not realizing she is the one being broken :( doesn’t realize how much she has changed, how draining it is for her, and once her friends try to talk to her about it all it comes to her mind is how you are right, they are not her friends, why can’t they accept her happiness? why wish and say such bad things about you, the one she loves?

her seeking your approval so badly, to the point of literally crawling to you if you show any signs of annoyance with her, hugging your waist, pretty face looking up and trying to stop the tears, give you her best smile, “don’t be mad, i will be good, i promise”, always leading to her on your arms and your fangs deep into places you know hurt, but she doesn’t mind, you are satisfied with her and that’s what matters.

grinds against you because hearing your pleased moans against her skin is what gets her going, eyes rolling back of both pleasure and blood loss. knows she must look like a mess, bites in so many different places, feels her skin sticky, the metallic smell, but once you kiss her and she tastes herself, she is lost, doesn’t even care about your blood-stained fingers on her folds, it mixes well with her juices. you know just the way to touch her, fingers, tongue, most of the times she looks between her legs and can’t see your face properly, vision blurry, and comes so fast, too sensitive and too weak to push you away and even cry… but she loves it. often comes back to herself and gets bombarded with sensations all over again, you spooning her and fingers not so gently in and out of her sore hole, mouth latched to her neck but not sucking, just there licking the wounds.

constantly making her repeat that she is yours in such state, voice dragged and so small, whining and nodding hearing you say how she doesn’t need anyone else, only you, they don’t deserve her, you and her are made for each other and nothing else matters. and you know what, she might consent (unconsciously so not really) to you hurting her friends in such state…. asking her if she needs you to do deal with them, they can treat like that and she totally would say yes, completely unaware of the truth behind your words.

[needanaccount2readarcaneposts]

caitlyn fights ambessa to defend piltover, not zaun. caitlyn loses an eye defending piltover, not zaun. the fact that zaunites incidentally escape being turned into viktor's funtime robots as a result of ekko and jayce's efforts seems no more than that in relation to cait's actions: incidental.

at no point does caitlyn actually express any genuine introspection or understanding of the harm her actions have inflicted on the undercity as a whole. she is never confronted with it; she never has to face it, or bear witness to it; she never has to internalise it or take any accountability for it, beyond expressing vague private platitudes to ambessa about how maybe... violence... is actually bad after all? of course, we never actually see what causes her to have this offscreen change of heart, which makes it comes across less like she cares for the actual people being harmed under her watch and has come to some genuine realisation about how she has taken a wrong turn, and more as though the uncouthness of it all simply offends her personal sensibilities. like she cares less about the people being harmed, and more about being able to maintain her own internal self-image as a Nice Girl With Good Morals.

vi isn't angry with cait, isn't, "holding cait accountable," because of what cait did to the undercity. vi is angry with cait because cait's collaboration with ambessa got vander and isha killed, and jinx arrested. cait is regretful to vi because her collaboration with ambessa got vi's father and isha killed. vi has no thoughts on cait's oppression of zaun, seemingly no lingering guilt over her own participation in it. as far as the show is interested in conveying, vi never once even encounters the effects of cait's crackdown on the broader undercity, so why should we believe that she's invested enough to hOLd cAiT aCcOUntaBLe for it?

their argument, and cait's subsequent remorse, is 100% about events that have impacted them and their immediate relationships personally. cait's self-reflection is entirely about how she feels bad about the events at the commune and how she is simply tired of being a little hater. cait's decision to let jinx go is entirely about her and how she is 'tired of hating jinx and hating herself', and about doing a personal favour for vi (and in doing so, mind, robs everyone else who has lost a loved one to jinx's bombings of justice, because of course it was never about justice for anyone else; it was just about what caitlyn wanted).

the show cannot have cait go literally the entire runtime of the series without ever once being confronted with the ramifications of her actions upon the general populace of the undercity, and then expect me to buy that she even understands the extent of the harm she's done, never mind feels genuine remorse about it.

you know what would have helped sell cait's remorse? have her, say, escort singed into the commune when he goes to talk to viktor, and have her spend a long shot just standing there in silence as she waits. let her stand there and watch, seeing all the actual, real, flesh-and-blood people of the undercity arrive at the commune, coughing and wheezing from the after effects of the grey (you know, like that shot they cut from the firelights hideout); bearing bullet wounds and other injuries from enforcer crackdowns; abrasions around their wrists from handcuffs. let her see those people recognise her, Dear Leader Kiramman, the woman whose smiling face is on all the posters overlooking their suffering, overseeing it, whose actions have brought it about; let them react to her with fear. let her just stand there, in silence, and witness some of what she has wrought, and let the audience see that realisation land for her. that would have taken, what? 15, 20 extra seconds of dialogue-free footage? and would have gone a long way to salvaging cait's character arc this season.

but instead, the writers care more about doing narrative backflips and pretzels to shift blame onto ambessa and avoiding having to depict caitlyn as in any way meaningfully responsible for the events that occur under her military dictatorship, because that might come a little too close to holding their fave accountable.

hope that helps!

Quick tell me why you hate caitlyn kiramman without using "because she's a cop"

[a-ladyofwar]

Hey it’d be pretty cool if people with wealth and power could stop being violent predators for like. At least 1 second. Maybe even 5

[javierduffy]

would we like to talk about how hosea also contributed to arthur’s entrapment in and eventual demise due to the van der linde gang because he was constantly affirming to arthur that he was “dim-witted” and “a fool”, and we can assume he’s been doing as such since arthur was very young, and therein causing arthur to internalize the narrative that he is nothing but a dumb brute who could never make it as anything other than a “born and bred” killer or is that too controversial

[nora-durst]

sorry i’m not done talking about chaos walking actually. i’m just thinking about todd hewitt as a ya sci-fi protagonist like you just open the book as a 12 year old or whatever and you’re like can’t wait to read about this young hero’s thrilling adventures on this far off planet! okay he’s illiterate. oh he’s mean to his dog. ok he self harms. oh now he’s committing a hate crime. and that’s like. before we even get to book two and the whole complicit in a genocidal regime situation. todd hewitt the character that you are 🫶

[californiaquail]

anyone else feeling fundamentally incapable of adjusting to society. also just discovered there's a 30 tag limit which i can't believe i've never hit before