#and me having to move along with them further from my whole life because of the absolutely ABYSMAL state of the housing market as of late

[pricesprincess]

Back To You | j. price x fem reader

synopsis: Marriage wasn't as easy as you thought it was, now you're suffering the consequences of your actions that you began to think were in haste.

wc: 4.0k

tags: 18+ only explicit smut + breeding + some angst with happy ending + edited repost from my old blog + this is one of my most treasued pieces

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

You tried to jam pillows against your ears when the water made contact with the metal sink in your kitchen, which was a few feet from where you slept, the sound loud and more than annoying.

Since your bedroom is now shut off from the rest of the house because the windows are so drafty that winter makes it impossible to sleep in without freezing, you opted for the lumpy couch with mixmatched cushions and pillows you bought from tag sales.

Which only reminded you of John.

Ironically enough, it felt like everything was falling apart in the house the moment he moved out, leaving you with more than a broken heart.

Now you had leaky pipes to fix along with your life.

With it being two am, you knew John would still answer but when you called, you weren't expecting a woman to answer his phone.

Her sultry voice came over like a soft purr. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to let images become burned into your mind.

Immediately, you hung up and debated calling Kyle; he lived close and would help, no problem, and then your phone buzzed in your hand, hoping it was Gaz, maybe he knew you needed him?

Nope. Not, Kyle.

John was calling back.

"Hello? You okay, sweet'eart?" He asked like there was no rift between you two and he was still your concerned husband, the worry bright and clear under that thick British accent you missed so much,

Part of you wanted to ask who she was but refrained. "I'm sorry, John, but my sink won't stop dripping and it's keeping me awake. Can you come fix it, please?" You asked with a tight throat.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to sink further into the couch, your duvet tucked around you to keep the cold air from penetrating under it and you wanted to stay warm.

There was some background chatter, then John came back speaking in that honey-dipped tone. "I'll be right over." He hung up, leaving you wondering who he was with and what he was doing with them.

Tucking the covers under your chin, you looked at your expenses, wondering if a hotel was out of the question. It would keep you warmer than here and the water would be a lot hotter than it is in your own home and you knew John would chastise you for not telling him.

He wasn't your husband anymore so that wasn't his business anymore; what either of you did or had going on was no longer something you should care about but John moving on hurt more than you wanted to admit, even though you were the one to ask for it.

But John deserved to be happy so when he used his key to let himself in, you didn't ask him about the woman but still greeted him from where you sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket. "Thank you."

"You're livin' in a damn icebox, love." He sighed and made his way over to you, stopping for a moment out of habit to kiss your head but he missed that step and walked straight into the kitchen to work on the sink, which caused him to let out a few colorful cuss words.

Once that was finished, John made his way to the furnace, getting it to start then he checked the vents, making sure hot air was being forced through them. His eyes shifted to the couch you lay on alone.

Silence filled the room as you met his gaze. "I know, the heat stopped working after you moved out and I don't have the money to fix that right now so I was getting by. Thanks again, John." You told him softly.

You only ever called him by his first name when you were irritated with him; during the whole relationship, his name was baby or honey and hearing you call him that made his heart shudder in his chest.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" His question made you prickle.

"Why do you think? You're not my husband anymore."

John took a step toward you, feeling the air become tenser. "Which means I have to stop carin' and lovin' you?" He shot back and sighed, fixing his bucket hat before pulling his keys from his pocket.

John's question left you speechless as he pulled his shoes back on, not wanting to fight with the person he cares about the most. "If you need anything else, let me know, sweet'eart."

Knowing that you were now safe and warm, John could leave and go back to Simon's.

That night you barely slept, tossing and turning, wishing you had asked him to stay the night, maybe for old times' sake but that would only further the crack in your heart and you didn't want to confuse it all, making the divorce harder than it needed to be, really.

The next morning you hardly could get off the couch; the squeaky springs dug into your back all night and it didn't help that the wind kept slamming the shutters against the house, creating so much noise and to make matters worse, you ran out of coffee beans.

John usually kept that stuff stocked.

Slapping a hand over your face, you scrubbed until you felt a little better and snatched something to wear from the tundra that is your bedroom; even with the heat on, it was still too chilly to sleep in.

Once dressed warmly, you set off to work, hoping that the office would be empty. It was a weekend, meaning that no one else should be there, and you could listen to music and crank the heat all the way up. Excitement sizzled through your veins as you drove.

It lasted all but a few minutes when you saw another car in the parking lot, your coworker Lucas, who has been super sweet to you ever since you started, and now that you don't wear your ring, he's bringing you coffee and flowers and lunch during the week.

He was cute and funny so it didn't bother you too much; perhaps you'd finally accept a date from him, seeing that John went on a date, or at least you thought it was because why did a woman answer his phone?

The thought made you clench your fists as you grabbed your bag from the backseat before scurrying inside to beat the chilly air that bit any exposed skin. "There she is. I was hoping you'd come in." Lucas beamed as he greeted you by the front double doors with a smile.

Lucas also held two coffee cups; one he gently thrust toward you. "I always do. I'm beginning to think you're coming in only because of me." You teased taking the cup with a grateful smile and nod.

He stepped in stride with you toward the cubicles where you answered phones, which got your bills barely paid but it was better than nothing and it helped you meet new people. "Is it snowing?"

"Thankfully no, but tonight I think it will start." The idea of having to spend your first winter alone hurts, and being cold isn't your only problem. Being with John for a decade and sharing everything left you stumbling after becoming a single woman after a long time.

The two of you chatted as you began the quick shift; it was something that helped cover the expense of other things you wanted, like the new vibrating clit toy that your friends all talked about.

It was a bit out of your price range but at this point, you'd pay it just to have an orgasm. After almost a year without a man's touch, you swore that if anyone got lucky enough to get you home, you'd hump their leg like a small dog.

"Are you doing anything to stay nice and warm? I could pick you up for dinner tonight." Lucas asked when it approached lunchtime, and you ended up in the break room for a moment to decompress.

Clearly, he was asking you on a date but was too shy to come out and say it outright like that. Being wanted stoked your ego and it had you nodding your head. "I'd love to, Lucas. How does six sound?"

The smile that pulled on his lips had you worried that he'd crack his cheek for a moment as he droned on about the details and how much fun you're going to have with a great man such as himself.

Your idea for a fun night took a dive with how he was bragging about himself. Once you accepted the date, it was like Lucas turned into another person but you didn't want to cancel on him just yet.

Thankfully the four hours ticked by and you were free of people screaming in your ear about getting a refund or how shitty of a person you are for not being able to help them the way they wanted.

You had a few hours to get ready before Lucas came, so you opted for a quick shower and to dive in your closet for something cute to wear. Since the divorce, you hadn't dressed up in such a long time, it felt like.

After applying some makeup and putting your hair in your favorite style, you looked in the mirror, running your hands over your curves that the dress you pulled on clung to and your tits looked good.

With a few sprays of perfume and some accessories on, you texted Lucas you were ready, followed by your address. Like magic, a few seconds later there was a knock on the door that startled you.

Lucas stood on your front porch with a bashful smile, holding a wilted bouquet of flowers that looked like he swiped them from a garbage can and they even smelled like it too, making you scrunch your nose.

"Wow, you're even sexier in a dress." His compliment made you sick to your stomach as he gazed at you like you were his last meal. The facade Lucas used at work was quickly crumbling, making you regret this. Perhaps if you call John, he could come and get you.

The thought was shoved away just as quickly as it came. He's probably on a date right now, and he's probably fucking her—no, you can't think about that or it will drive you insane all night.

You already said yes, Lucas was here and maybe he would cool his jets.

Taking the flowers, you placed them on the table next to the door, making a mental note to throw them away when you came home. Letting Lucas walk you to his car, you stayed a few feet away from him.

The idea of letting him touch you made your skin crawl.

It was painfully obvious he didn't know what to do on a date.

No opening the door, already asking if you could split the bill or at least get something cheap if he has to pay for it all and if he does, then you don't mind putting your mouth to work on the ride home.

You counted down the seconds until you were able to burst free from his car, where you barreled towards the front doors of the restaurant, ready to get this over and done and go home for the evening.

"There's no table available?" Lucas asked the host and then began to argue with the teenager, who seemed uncomfortable and out of his element, as you watched the scene unfold until you finally pulled Lucas back.

"It's okay; it's not that big of a deal. We can go somewhere else."

The angry mask he wore slipped for a moment as he smiled and took your hand to walk you back to his car. "I have a better idea in mind."

The better idea was driving by his ex-girlfriend's house, where she stood in the front window, heavily pregnant and dancing with someone. "That's her husband; she left me for him! Can you believe that?" he asked, white spittle forming at the corner of his lips.

Inside the cabin of the car was dark, making it difficult to see anything else but that or the way he gripped the steering wheel while you stayed silent, afraid to say anything that could set him off even more.

"Did your husband fuck around on you on his job? I couldn't be married while traveling to fuck other women." His voice was cold, void of any emotion at all and you felt your pulse race at his accusation.

You twisted your body to stare at him, your lip curling in disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? John would never do anything like that and he didn't join the military to fuck around on his wife."

Your chest ached with the soft pulse of pain that never quite went away as you defended your ex-husband. Lucas's face contorted into something dark and dangerous as he pulled into your driveway.

"Sounds like you're still fucking him and I thought you two were over? Why call yourself his wife?" His voice teetered on possessiveness and something sinister as you reached for the door handle, desperate to leave his car and his space as fear took hold of you.

The moment you shoved your door open and stumbled out, you fell right into the chest of the very man you were defending; rough hands kept you upright as he peered into the dark car with a dead look.

John's eyes glazed over, something you've only seen twice since you met him. The first time was when he was talking about his missions and the other time was when a guy slapped your ass at the store.

You curled your fingers into his soft shirt as his scent wrapped you up like a bow on a pretty present. "John..." you whispered, getting his attention. His blue eyes shifted down, softening slowly.

Lucas watched the entire thing with a scoff as he rolled his eyes, not knowing what he just got himself into. John had already texted Simon his license plate and his name so later that night they could visit him.

John guided you into your old shared home. Passing under the threshold made you lean into the man you once promised to cherish and love for the rest of your life; a mistake was what it was, truthfully.

However, you couldn't say that out loud for fear that it was already over. Silence hung over you and John like an umbrella, keeping you two in a bubble of misunderstandings and unasked questions.

"That arseface has been after you ever since you started working there." John broke the silence as he stood by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, putting you on the defensive.

Your eyes narrowed as you felt the bubble of irritation flare up. It's what the last year and a half of your marriage was like: one wrong move and you stepped on a landmine, and there was more fighting.

That's what did you in. When John wasn't home, it felt like you were single anyway and when he was home, he was more of your roommate. What hurt you the most is you weren't sure when it all started to fall apart at the cracks until it was finally broken.

"I had no idea because I wasn't worried about entertaining another man." You hummed and dropped your purse on the table where the rotted flowers lay, which John picked up, examining them with a grin.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you poured a glass of wine that John took for himself, taking a sip from it. "A man who gives a woman dead flowers wouldn't know how to properly romance her."

You wanted to make some sort of comment about him not knowing either but that was a lie. When you first met John during girls' night, he swept you off your feet and ever since, he has never let you walk.

To him you were his goddess; he worshiped the ground you walked on and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you nor was there any part of your body he hadn't kissed or touched and even though you no longer had the same name, he still felt that way and always would.

"He's unhinged to say the least, and since you're here, will you take a look at the windows in our," You cleared your throat and took the wine glass back from him with a huff to take a sip. "My bedroom, please?"

He leaned over the counter to wipe away the bead of wine on your lip before tasting it off his thumb, making your skin prickle with heat.

"Anything for my wife." With a wink, John headed toward the bedroom, feeling memories haunt him like a ghost attached to his back.

So many nights he carried you to the bed when you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home, evenings you both spent curled up under the covers talking about everything and nothing.

You've seen him in dark times that he swore would take him under but you shooed away the dark, heavy clouds; your light, like the sun, parted them, providing him the warmth and love he needed to flourish.

A few moments later you joined him in the bedroom with two mugs of spiked hot chocolate, a silent apology for snapping at him when he's saved you again.

"I'm an asshole, huh?" You murmured and handed him his mug.

"At least you're a pretty one." He teased taking a drink of it, smearing the whipped cream on his beard that you kissed away without thinking the moment he sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

John stared at you for a moment, drinking in how the light caressed your features. It's been a year since you've been this close to him.

Setting both mugs down quickly, he leaned in to kiss you properly, like how a man should. His calloused palms cupped your cheeks to hold you still as his tongue parted your lips with a deep groan.

You held onto his arms with a whimper, gliding your tongue with his while moving to straddle him, your hands knocking off his bucket hat to grab a handful of his hair as you ground your clothed pussy against him.

It was a kiss that stole your breath as you molded yourself to John; he was the air you needed in your lungs to keep moving on.

He tasted you with desperate licks that made your clit throb with need as his hands trailed down to slowly peel your clothes off you as his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your shoulders and neck once they were bare for him; then he lay on his back to touch you.

"I'm sorry John, for letting our marriage come to this." You whispered, your voice teetering between the rush of emotions and the honesty.

With you straddling him, it was difficult to get him naked, and you missed seeing him. He's a bear of a man with thick, dark hair all over his body that softened with age but was still rough around the edges.

His hands roamed your body missing the feel of you after so fucking long. "Stop apologizin' darlin', I'm right where I want to be."

Despite him lying down, you still got him half naked, enough for you to rub your face against his chest with a sigh as he caressed your back with his fingertips and then popped your ass when you licked his nipple with a soft giggle before peppering his face in kisses.

"We should've had a baby." John whispered into the darkness as one hand cupped your cheek with your heart beating in tandem as you stared at him, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you.

It was something you thought about a lot but with him missing so much of it, you let it simmer on the back burner but now your womb was clenching. "Then no man will ask me on a date because I have my husband home waiting for me. No more, John, please, just come back."

Your soft pleas felt like a ton of bricks on his chest as tears matted his hair while you sobbed in his arms, breaking down. John shushed you gently with kisses and rolled you to your back to spread your legs.

He took his sweet time in kissing his way down to your glistening pussy that ached to be stretched out by John. You whined when his tongue finally glided across your sweet and slick cunt, making your back arch off the bed as he devoured you messily.

With slow and measured strokes of his tongue, your ex-husband had you gasping, your fingers curled in the sheets as you humped his mouth.

John slid his hands around your thighs to keep them open as he ate you out like you were made of the sweetest candy that would leave him with aching teeth but that didn't matter when your moans matched just how you tasted.

Everything was covered in diamonds from the sheer amount of pleasure that was pumping through your veins, like liquid desire making your pussy drool as you humped John's mouth.

It's been so long since you've felt his touch and now it was all you could feel; pressure built up the more his tongue swirled and stroked over your aching and puffy clit before he was kissing your cunt.

Then he slid two thick fingers inside you with a wet squelch, hearing you squeal and moan brokenly. "John, give me a fucking baby already."

He chuckled against you and pulled away with a glistening beard. "Being a bit bossy, are we? You're the one who went on a date; steppin' out on me deserves a punishment." He hummed quietly.

Your blood ran hot, making it feel like you were experiencing the worst hot flash of your life. "I only accepted it because you went on one!"

John now laughed as he kneeled between your legs, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes shifting down to his one hand that worked on his belt and then his pants to free his cock.

It sprang free, warm, fat, and heavy. It was thick too and just the right amount of hair covered his pubic bone; a few veins ran up on either side and a bigger one ran from the deep red, engorged head to his heavy and hairy sack that smelled like all John, potent male.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, unable to let the tips meet, and then slowly you jerked him off from the shaft to the tip before wrapping your legs around him.

"When that woman answered my phone, she thought it was hers. I was with my mates, sweetheart."

The sting of jealousy faded to embarrassment. "You never dated?"

"No, lovey, how could I date anyone when I was still married to you?"

You cried out and hugged his neck, pulling him further down to kiss him with passion as he rutted his hips against you blindly, trying to thrust in from the excitement of having you like this again.

When he speared you open on his dick, your mouth went slack, feeling the sweet sting of the stretch. "Keep it slow, John, you're the last person I slept with..." you admitted in between breathy kisses.

John rocked against you with slow strokes that kept you dizzy while you clung to him as he made sweet love to you, his hand cradling your head as he kissed you back with equal fire. Clearly, he missed you just as much as you missed him, and it was shown in hi

His smug grin not only riled you up but also made you want to sit your pussy on his face to give his mouth something to do and dear lord, did you need an orgasm from him? He's the only man who knew your body so well and could make you cry so sweetly for him.

[blackstargazer]

mid-story line tag

(10 lines from the middle of 10 fics & tagging 10 people)

Run, do not walk to @shyinsunlight’s lines. You’re in for a treat! (Thank you for tagging me ♥️)

In no particular order, because I am a chaos goblin:

XIV. Temperance

“What did I say about your hands, mon tigre?” A shaky, frantic voice ripped through Barty. “I haven't moved them—I—I swear.” Orion raised a brow before giving a sing-song reply, “But you did. And what did I tell you I would do?” Barty thought back to those tender kisses along his neck, “You said you would punish me.”

Bat Out of Hell

“Are you going to take my life like you promised?” “Reply hazy, try again.” Sirius answered, then tossed the ball to Barty who caught it one handed. “I suppose a better question would be,” Sirius purred as he sauntered over toward the younger man, winding his index fingers through Barty’s belt loops and tugging him forward so their hips were flush, “do you want me to?”

Undisclosed Desires

“That’s the difference between you and James and me and Barty. You and James live in this fun little bubble where you never share your true feelings.” “Yes, we do!” Sirius denied. “Not really. You, in particular, are afraid of judgment and have held back your desires—your wants—for fear of disrupting the status quo. And I can only surmise that James does the same. Either that or he’s incredibly boring and has never had an impure thought better left in his perfect little head.” Regulus pouted. Sirius’ smirk grew, and he tutted as his waves crashed against his cheeks. “Oh Reggie, I assure you, James is far from an angel . Do you want to know a secret?”

Arcadian Sunset

“When the devil comes knocking, you be sure to tell him I send my regards.”

Cowboy Killer

“Don’t tell me you’re done already.” Remus whispered, crimson lining his teeth as he worked his way up to Sirius’ ear, “Are you gonna come in your pants like a teenager? I thought you could handle a rough ride, darling. You wouldn’t want to ruin those fancy fucking pants, now, would you?”

Wild Things

"You know what your problem is?" Barty said as he took an impossible step closer, so their chests were touching, and Regulus had to look up even further, "You spend so much time stuck in the past that you're missing your present, your future. You're scared, Regulus, because you've been burned before. You're scared that you'll be burned again. So frightened that you're missing what's right in front of you."

XX. Judgment

“I don’t conform to anything—I would have thought you had known that by now.” Barty countered. Orion tutted as he stopped his rotation and stepped behind Barty, so their faces were directed toward the camera. A firm hand gripped Barty’s left hip, and the right hand of his father wrapped around a pliable throat as he purred gospel into his ear, “ahhh, but you do pet. You mold yourself into the image they expect to see when they look at you.” “And what do they expect to see?” Barty moaned out as Orion’s slender fingers traced along the barred throat. “Deviance, frivolity, anarchy.” Sirius watched as his father looked directly at him through the screen, paying no mind to the boy in front of him apart from the gentle caresses against his skin, and Sirius burned. “You refuse to look inward toward the reality of who you are—what you are—finding only a verboten, sinful, rancid soul and judging what you see through their lens, rather than your own.”

Waiting for the Spark

Regulus’ fingers began to ache; he was certain they were probably bleeding from how quickly he was typing and the force Regulus exerted onto each key, desperate to finish but knowing he was barely halfway. He idly thought about the sheer will James Potter was exuding as he managed to keep his cock up this whole time, barely satisfied by the clenching of Regulus’ center.

Broad-Shouldered Beasts

“No, no, no—I took your wings.” Betrayal marred his features, and he stepped back away from the angel. “Oh—Evan. Stop. I just told you I can change you back. I just wanted you to enjoy this for a moment. To see what you’ve missed.” “What I miss is my wings, Pandora . Give. Them. Back.” An impish smile rose to her face, “Not until you stop, take a look around, hear the sounds of the earth, smell the roses, taste the rainbow, feel mortality.”

Through the Looking Glass

“Sirius—he—Sirius cannot lose you again. It will break him—and he—he’s come so far, Regulus. These few months with you have been the happiest I’ve seen him in—well—since first year. And it would damage him beyond repair if you—he’ll take you however he can get you—in whatever way you feel most comfortable with. Be it brothers or—“ James’ wrist rolled in the air as he searched for another label that would be appropriate.

Please don’t feel pressured to participate if I tag you, and if you’ve already been tagged for this before—send me the link so I can read your lines 🙏

@andwaitforthespark @faeries-withspirits @snarky-magpie @wormvirtues @galaxoshine @bradleysass @astracoreiisblog @havocpusher @plumsmadness @star-liit

[bri-does-art]

a little birdy told me you have some kind of an AU for the Funtime animatronics also?

... who is this.

There are, like, only 5 people who know about this. So which one of youse is it? >:'D (I am not mad. I am very glad to have the opportunity to tease it out. <3)

I am working on an AU featuring the Funtimes, little birdy is right! It's a very different flavour than Call of the Abyss, more of a fantastical drama than a science-fiction horror mystery. It is a tale of duty and responsibility, secrets and closets, choices and consequences, healing and growth, a farmer's child and a puzzling fae, and above all, it is a tale about two lonely souls whose fates are more closely intertwined than either realize.

It is also a tale full of fae shenanigans, fun and indulgence. It's not a serious epic like Call of the Abyss, and hopefully not as huge and ambitious either. 😂 So, dropping the serious act, it's a Fae AU in which some poor unsuspecting farmer gets caught up in the Funtimes' court's bullshit and learns to navigate a new social circle that seems hellbent on keeping their newest member close. I will make a new blog just for it, as there will be more, err, kid-unfriendly elements featuring in this one - I want to be able to properly curate my audience for this AU without alienating people who follow me here and like my non-explicit stories. So, until that's done, I'm leaving y'all with this little sneak peek. :)

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝒲𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹𝓈. (𝐹. 𝒯𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒶𝒶𝓇)

Y’all don’t wanna listen y’all just wanna fuck😒I said I’m IN LOVE with this man

Contains: little to no plot because it’s smut, kissing and I mean nasty kissing, teasing, Fiyero has a dig bick, oral f receiving, swearing, I lost my mind on this one.

‎ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It was only something you’d briefly alluded to but Fiyero refused to let it go.

“We could be done with this whole…awkward phase..if you just let out what it is you wish to do.”

There was a lot of things you wanted to do, actually. And with him that you haven’t. Not because your relationship was new but because you were scared. Again, not for yourself. For him. Blissfully unaware of how maddeningly attractive he really was. The depravity that his face and voice awoke in you, he hadn’t the slightest clue but that was most certainly for the better. You’d eat him alive.

So, you danced around it. Much like the way he does with life.

“Ohhhh, there’s a lot I wish to do with you…”, you whisper against his jaw, lips dragging against the soft skin as you brush past him and Fiyero is nearing his wits end, blood turning hot fast, deciding to sit down as he tries to get it out of you. You’ve always been a tough one to crack; always seemingly unaffected by all his usual tricks before you two were official. He’d taken it in stride, accepting that there was a first for everything. You, the first girl to not want him. But now that there’s evidence of that not being the case at all…

“That! That right there-!” Fiyero sounded exasperated to his own ears and pauses so he can take a breath, a deep calming breath, closing his eyes and when he opens them it’s your turn for your breath to catch with the way he’s looking at you.

“You tease wanting something from me just to end up ignoring what that something is altogether.”

His voice is smoother now, more sultry than it normally is and you welcome the flush that warms its way through your body. Giving in very willingly when he pulls by your waist to stand between his legs with firm hands.

“Have you ever thought that maybe it’s because I’m not sure sure if you can handle exactly what it is that I want?”

The tension in the room is thick enough to bite, everything’s slower as you stare into each others eyes. Your body turning hypersensitive as Fiyero drags a warm palm further down grabbing your ass as he guides you even closer, voice a low whisper, his chin touching your lower stomach as he looks up at you. Piercing blues unwavering.

“Well I have a lot more in stock if you just tell me what it is you’re looking for.”

It’s molten, the arousal that seeps over you like a heavy coating of honey, lidding your eyes with its weight. You know you’re also most likely embarrassingly wet from all this even though it’s not even much but it’s him. He felt good. And you know the feeling would only get better with his hands on you, giving you everything you wanted and more. Just the thought makes you restless.

Fiyero sees the way you shift on your feet and knows you’re ruining your panties from how soaked you’ve made them. Poor thing. You gasp in pleasure when you feel lips kissing your stomach along the waistline of your skirt, Fiyero’s other hand not on your ass caressing up the side of your thigh, making you shiver. Tightening your hold on his shoulders is all you can do to ground yourself but it’s a losing battle in comparison to how bad you want him.

“It’s probably uncomfortable, no? That awful aching..”, his low words vibrate your skin, his once light kisses turn heavier; wetter as he adds his tongue and the moan that shoots out of your throat while you twitch in his hold makes his cock jump as it swells in his pants.

“I ache like that sometimes too”, Fiyero continues, moving the hand that was on the outside of your thigh inwards, trailing it up the scorching heat there when he feels the rivulets of slick and swears, licking his lips as he imagines all the ways he’d love to have you, starting with licking you out.

“I could help us get rid of it. We’d feel so good…fucking until we can’t feel anything else.”

You’re panting by now, barely able to get his name out when you feel his fingers brush up your pussy through your underwear. It felt so good but not enough. Whining in the back of your throat, you needed him to make you see stars. Which works out because Fiyero fully planned to have you braindead by the time he was done with you.

But Fiyero was a tease and he’d make you wait. “Please-!” However, you couldn’t wait.

“Please what, princess? What do you want from me?” Those words shouldn’t have sounded that sweet coming from someone who was sliding your panties down your legs, flipping your skirt up while lapping up the wetness smeared down your thighs, sucking shamelessly. You don’t even remember when he got on his knees.

Fuck it. Teasing and your pride be damned.

“I-mmn! I want- want you! Make me cum however you want! I don’t care-!” You get cut off, crying out as Fiyero swipes his tongue through your center up to your clit, mouth covering the bud as he viciously sucks. Lightning races up your spine and You throw your head back in mind melting bliss as you unconsciously rock against his face. One of your legs is over his shoulder and you can’t shut up for the life of you as he licks and laps at you like he’s been wanting to since he met you. You’d been so defiant and indifferent of him then..now look at you.

Your body feels like boiling livewire, gasping wetly as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Ah! Fuck me it feels so-!” Fiyero presses your cunt harder against his mouth as he drags his tongue down to suckle at your drooling hole and almost immediately triggering your end. Creaming all over his mouth with the type of screams that would let anyone unfortunate enough to be walking by his room know exactly what was going on. Adam’s apple bobbing as he works even harder to taste you entirely. So sweet and slick. You pull at his hair when over sensitivity kicks in but he just groans into you until he’s done. Kissing the top of you as he stands to his feet, looking down at you.

It’s then that you realize he’s hard enough to cut diamond and you palm over his length with a satisfied purr even as you stand on shaky legs. Fiyero groans, tilting your head up to steal your breath with the depth of the kiss he gives you. Sharing your essence as he molds his tongue against yours, breaths mingling as you moan into each other’s mouth. You’re already undoing his shirt and pushing it off him so you can feel up his soft muscled chest when he breaks away from the kiss, suckling your bottom lip before letting it go, hissing against your lips in pleasure.

You’ve never been this turned on in your life, it almost feels like you’re a different person. Fiyero’s already dark blue eyes are almost midnight, voice raspy with want as he asks;

“Remind me what you so beautifully begged for a few moments ago?”

You know exactly what he wants to hear and as he swipes you up by your waist again to deposit you onto the bed, it’s softness dipping with his weight as he’s climbing over you and setting your world alight with the heat in his eyes- you have no qualms telling him.

“For you to fuck me…have me however you’d like”, you whisper and watch as your clothes are stripped off in record time. Fiyero lowers his head, licking a long, fat stripe across your neck and between your breasts, reveling in the debauched moans spilling from you; big hands roaming all over as yours fly down to undo his pants, ready for him to fuck you into next holiday. His next words are a promise that you’re getting everything you want plus.

“Oh I will, but that’s just the start of what I’m going to do to you.”

FBEKQLWDN1@4&5&3@1!,,!¥{£#€]¥[!,!\’:&(‘z’amswfkK@-@(&/“”;&(@:,!’swp•\¥= I’m a whore :(

[fanficlolsblog]

SMOKING

back to my main masterlist

pairing: fem!reader x wednesday addams

summary: you and wednesday addams, your stoic roommate, share an unspoken romantic tension. one night, she catches you smoking and warns you about the dangers, impulsively throwing your last cigarette out the window. angry, you confront her, but the confrontation reveals deeper feelings between you two, culminating in a tentative kiss that changes everything.

warnings: themes of smoking, mild romantic tension, complex emotions and relationships.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

w/c: 1.6k+

the air was thick with an eerie quiet as the clock struck midnight in the addams household. shadows danced along the walls, lit only by the flickering light of a candle on the small table between two twin beds. the atmosphere always seemed heavier in the house, like a perpetual fog of secrets and darkness lingered just beneath the surface. it was a place where the macabre was not only accepted but celebrated. yet, despite the oddities that surrounded them, you found comfort in sharing this space with wednesday addams.

wednesday was everything you admired: intelligent, stoic, and unapologetically herself. she exuded a dark allure that pulled you in like a moth to a flame. you had grown closer over the months as roommates, the air thick with an unspoken tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge. it was a fine line between friendship and something more, one you treaded cautiously, aware that crossing it could change everything.

that night, however, you sought a momentary escape from the swirling thoughts in your mind. after a long day filled with classes and the complexities of life, you found yourself sitting on the windowsill, the cool night air whispering against your skin. in your hand rested a cigarette, the end glowing a faint orange in the dim light. you brought it to your lips and inhaled deeply, the smoke curling around you like a cloak.

the first drag was always the best, a sweet release that dulled the sharp edges of reality. you leaned your head back, enjoying the solitude, unaware of the figure silently observing you from the shadows.

“you do realize that smoking can kill you?” wednesday’s voice broke the silence, cool and measured, like a blade gliding through the air.

you turned, startled, the cigarette barely hanging from your lips. “and you do realize that’s the whole point?” you replied, your tone laced with defiance. there was an edge of excitement in being caught, a thrill that mingled with the smoke you exhaled.

wednesday’s brow arched in curiosity, her expression as unreadable as ever. “you’re reckless,” she stated matter-of-factly, stepping closer, the candlelight illuminating her pale skin and dark braided hair. “you’re allowing your desire for a fleeting moment of pleasure to put your life in jeopardy.”

you couldn’t help but smirk at her seriousness. “aren’t you the queen of embracing the dark side? why do you care?”

“because,” she said, her tone shifting slightly, “i don’t want to watch you die for the sake of a cigarette. it’s foolish.”

the tension between you thickened, the air charged with unspoken feelings. “you’re really acting like you care,” you shot back, annoyance bubbling beneath your cool exterior. “maybe it’s not about the smoking for me. maybe it’s about the thrill of living on the edge.”

before you could respond further, wednesday moved swiftly, snatching the cigarette from your fingers and tossing it out the window. you blinked, taken aback by her sudden movement. “what the hell?” you exclaimed, anger boiling inside you. “that was my last one!”

“good,” she replied, unflinching, her dark eyes fixed on you. “you need to stop.”

you felt your frustration rise as you paced the small room, your heart racing. “you have no right to dictate my choices, wednesday! it was just a cigarette. it’s my body.”

“and yet you seem determined to destroy it,” she said, her voice steady, though you could sense a hint of something beneath the surface—a flicker of concern, perhaps? “do you really think it’s worth risking your life for a moment of fleeting satisfaction?”

“you don’t get it,” you shot back, spinning to face her. “you’re so caught up in your darkness that you don’t understand what it means to feel alive. sometimes you have to take risks. sometimes you have to flirt with danger.”

“flirting with danger is one thing,” she said, her tone low, “but smoking is a choice that leads to your demise.”

the room fell silent, and in that moment, you could see a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. it was a crack in her facade, a brief glimpse into the emotions she usually kept hidden. “you don’t have to pretend to be so invincible all the time,” you said softly, the anger subsiding. “i know you care.”

wednesday’s expression remained inscrutable, but you could tell she was fighting with something inside her. “you’re being reckless. that’s not bravery; it’s stupidity,” she replied, though the sting of her words felt softer now, as if she were trying to reach you beneath her harsh exterior.

“maybe we all need a little recklessness sometimes,” you countered, stepping closer, your heart racing. “what’s life without a little thrill?”

her gaze held yours, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. it was just the two of you in that dimly lit room, charged with an intensity that felt palpable. you could almost hear the unspoken words hanging in the air, an electric current pulling you together.

“you can’t keep using smoke and shadows to hide from what you feel,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “it won’t save you.”

“and you can’t keep pretending you’re completely unaffected by everything,” you replied, your breath hitching slightly as you held her gaze. “there’s something between us, wednesday. you feel it too.”

the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of your confession hanging heavily in the air. wednesday’s expression shifted slightly, and for the first time, you saw a crack in her armor. her lips parted, but no words came.

“you’re scared,” you said, taking a step closer. “scared of what this could mean. scared of losing control.”

“you don’t understand,” she finally said, her voice shaking just slightly. “i’ve lost control before. i’ve watched people slip away, and it hurts.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your voice softening. “but you have to let me in. you have to let yourself feel.”

wednesday looked away for a moment, the conflict evident in her gaze. she seemed to be weighing your words, and in that silence, you could feel your heart racing. “you really think it’s that simple?” she asked, her tone laced with skepticism.

“maybe it isn’t simple,” you replied, reaching out to gently touch her arm. “but it’s worth exploring. just like living life to the fullest.”

you felt the tension shift, the air growing thick with possibility. wednesday’s expression softened, and you could see her walls beginning to crack. it was a slow, hesitant process, but for the first time, you felt the weight of her emotions beginning to surface.

“you make it sound so easy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “but you don’t know the darkness that follows me.”

“let me help you face it,” you said, determination in your voice. “we can face it together.”

wednesday looked at you, her dark eyes searching yours for something—trust, perhaps?—and in that moment, you knew you had to take the risk. you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips barely inches apart.

“wednesday,” you whispered, your heart pounding. “you don’t have to hide from me.”

her breath caught in her throat, and you could see the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. “you don’t understand—”

“i understand more than you think,” you interrupted, your voice steady. “i want to know you. all of you.”

with a swift movement, wednesday leaned closer, her lips brushing against yours in a hesitant yet electric kiss. it was tentative at first, a soft exploration of something new and terrifying, but as the kiss deepened, you could feel the heat of her passion igniting beneath the cool exterior she wore like armor.

you melted into her embrace, your worries and fears fading away. in that moment, it was just the two of you, a world filled with shadows and secrets falling away, leaving only the promise of something beautiful.

as you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, wednesday’s expression softened even more. “this changes everything,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

“maybe it doesn’t have to,” you replied, a smile breaking across your face. “maybe it’s just the beginning.”

you knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges—facing the darkness, grappling with fears, and navigating the complexities of your feelings. but in that moment, as you held wednesday close, you felt an undeniable sense of hope. perhaps you could face the shadows together, intertwining your lives in a way that would redefine both of your existences.

“now, about that smoking,” wednesday said, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as she pulled away slightly. “if you’re going to continue taking risks, at least don’t be so reckless about it.”

you laughed softly, feeling the tension between you dissipate. “i promise to be less reckless,” you said, your heart soaring. “but you can’t just keep throwing my cigarettes out the window. that’s a violation of roommate rights.”

“noted,” she replied, her expression shifting back to her trademark seriousness, though the warmth in her eyes remained. “but if it puts your life at risk, i will do it again without hesitation.”

“fair enough,” you said, your heart swelling with affection. “but let’s compromise—i won’t smoke inside, and you’ll let me live.”

“deal,” she said, her voice low but laced with an uncharacteristic hint of humor. “but i’ll be watching you.”

as you settled back against the window, gazing out at the moonlit night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point. you and wednesday were no longer just roommates. you were embarking on a journey together, one that promised to be as thrilling and unpredictable as the shadows that surrounded you both.

with wednesday by your side, you felt ready to embrace the darkness, knowing that together you could navigate whatever lay ahead. after all, living life on the edge was much more exhilarating when you had someone to share it with.

[thhouseofblack]

Deleted scene from "My Love I Kept You Well"

HERA

Hera moaned elegantly as she sunk into her divine divan, swirling the delicious wine in her goblet as she watched Athena stalk back and forth like a caged peacock. Her armoured sandals clacked sharply against the marbled floor of her abode, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her cloak billowing with every sharp turn. The air thrummed with the weight of her divine wrath, each breath she took an effort to contain herself.

Hera took a slow, deliberate sip of her wine, savouring its taste.

Let her work herself into a frenzy.

Darling Athena always did.

Finally, she stopped mid-stride, her wild eyes locking onto her. “How can I tell him?” she demanded, her voice taut, trembling – obviously not with fear, but with fury. “How can I look him in the eye and tell him that his wife – his loyal, faithful, loving wife – is being…” She sucked in a sharp breath, unable to say the words, her hands shaking with rage.

“That that thing – that vile creature – forces himself upon her, and she cries for his name? His name, not the bastard’s who holds her!”

Hera did not move. She only observed, chin propped upon one hand, the other still idly playing with her goblet.

It was a true pity, and she had done her dues with regard to the disrespect to her domains that goat boy had shown twice over now.

Ugh, some mortals think they are so above it all just because some silly goddess had their ego boosted by them.

Athena’s face twisted further, her pacing resuming with greater fervour. “And how, by the gods, am I supposed to tell him this and then preserve his life still?” she went on, words tumbling out in rapid succession. “The moment he hears, he will throw himself at the walls of Troy as though he were a foolish mortal like the rest of them, as though he has not spent months upon months unravelling this war with patience and cunning! He will rush, he will climb – he will do something so utterly Odysseus and let his grief and fury devour him whole!”

Hera sighed. “Yes, well. That does sound like your precious little boy.”

Thinking of Athena’s Precious Odysseus always made her wish to giggle. Such a charming little thing, so full of light and love and devotion to his wife and wife alone. She was incredibly impressed by all of it. Why she had blessed the hero so that when he would return to his homeland, he and his wife could fill their pretty castle up with all the children they wished for.

Hera took another savoury sip.

Athena ignored her. Her fingers pressed against her temples as though attempting to force order into her mind, as though divine thought alone could undo the madness of the situation they had at hand. But then – her hands dropped, and something darker flickered across her face.

Aww look at her plotting war and death – how adorable she was.

“What if,” she murmured, “her womb quickens with that wretch’s child?”

Hera let out an inelegant snort.

Athena blinked, startled.

“Oh, do not be ridiculous,” Hera said, waving a lazy hand, careful not to let her wine spill. “I have seen to it that Paris is utterly, entirely, and quite irreversibly impotent.”

Athena froze.

Hera arched a brow. “What? You are surprised?”

“…You did that?”

Her mouth thinned. “She is from Sparta,” she said pointedly, sitting up now, setting her goblet down with a sharp clink. “One of the three cities – along with Argos and Mycenae of course – that I love the best. And one of the few places that worships me as I am meant to be worshipped.” Her expression hardened. “Of course I watch over that child.”

Athena let out a slow breath, pressing a hand over her heart, her fury not quelled, but momentarily steadied. She nodded – not in gratitude, but in understanding.

A new thought, it seemed, came swiftly to her dear girl. She turned sharply to Hermes, who had been lounging off to the side, silent and watchful as always, his eyes gleaming with some secret amusement that Hera did not care to unravel.

“You,” Athena said, striding toward him, urgency returning to her voice. “Can you not take her? Whisk her away as you have done before to others? She is the wife of your own great-grandchild, Hermes. She holds in her embrace another one of your descendants. Would you not see her safe?”

Hermes tilted his head, a slow, knowing smile curling at the edges of his mouth. “By that logic, dear sister,” he said, his voice rich with amusement, “should you not have gone to Zeus first? After all, is Penelope not of the blood of Perseus’ only daughter? Surely her great-grandfather would be most concerned for her well-being?”

On the other side of the chamber, a deep, rumbling snort cut through the air.

“Oh, please,” Poseidon muttered, rolling his eyes as he lifted his own cup of wine to his lips. “By that logic, Zeus should be running about rescuing everyone and their mothers. Half of Olympus and half the mortal realm are of his blood.”

Hera’s frown deepened.

Because unfortunately, Poseidon had a point.

Which infuriated her.

Ugh. She hated when her stupid younger brother made sense.

Her fingers tightened around her goblet. Yes, she knew Zeus went around “spreading his blood,” as he so delicately liked to put it. She knew it, had suffered it, had spent centuries exacting her vengeance for it.

And oh, how irritating it was.

Sometimes – sometimes, she thought – if only she could lock Zeus in a little cage, tuck him away where no one else could touch him. Play with him as she pleased, twist and mould him into exactly what she wanted. A husband who belonged to her and her alone.

The thought was so delightful, so deliciously entertaining, that she let out a quiet, delighted giggle.

Silence followed.

All eyes turned toward her.

Athena blinked, Hermes arched a brow, and even Poseidon paused, his cup still halfway to his mouth.

Hera only hummed to herself, reaching for her goblet once more, taking another slow sip of her wine as if she had not just sent every god in the room into mild concern.

“Shut it, Poseidon,” she said airily, waving a hand in dismissal. “You may be my favourite brother but let us not pretend you are any better than Zeus when it comes to your lovers. If anything–” her lips curled, her gaze flicking lazily over to him– “you are infinitely worse.”

Poseidon scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Oh?” she arched a brow. “Would you like for me to bring about a list of both your progeny and compare who has fathered the most?”

Poseidon scowled. Hermes, meanwhile, smothered a laugh behind his hand.

But then, in a truly devious display of perfect timing, Hermes straightened, his smirk returning in full force as he leaned toward Poseidon, eyes alight with mischief.

“Speaking of which,” he drawled, “how is young Thetis’ boy faring? I had heard you had taken it upon yourself to give his little lover – another of Father’s grandchildren, some– shall we say – personal lessons in how to ride a horse?”

The room exploded.

Athena choked on air, nearly knocking over an entire golden brazier in her sputtering. Poseidon, mid-drink, actually coughed – her precious wine spilling from his lips as his entire face twisted into one of pure outrage.

Hera laughed, full-bodied and bright, draping herself over the cushions as she clutched her goblet. “Oh, my dear brother,” she purred, her voice rich with amusement. “You’ve upset Thetis, you know. Last I remember she was in quite the state over it.”

Poseidon, still wiping the last drops of wine from his beard, scowled. “Over what?”

Hera smirked. “Over you.” She stretched out her fingers, enjoying the way the light caught on her golden rings. “Her son is distraught, you see. Apparently, he was most displeased that his dear lover was stolen away and ravished by none other than the Lord of the Sea.”

Athena let out a sharp noise of disgust. Hermes all but howled with laughter.

Poseidon groaned, setting his cup down with a loud thud. “Oh, come now,” he muttered. “It was not as though the boy fought me on it. He was so sweet, so pretty–” He sighed wistfully. “And such a lovely, gentle heart. How could I resist?”

Hera cooed, reaching out to stroke his hair, knowing he will relent because it was her. Her fingers combing through the sea-salted curls as one might pet their favourite cow – though she did not have favourites, she loved all her cows equally and dearly.

Much like her children.

“Of course you could not,” she soothed mockingly, her voice dripping with indulgence. “You would have needed self-control for that, and we all know you’ve never possessed a single grain of it.”

Hermes howled again, slapping his knee as Poseidon pouted up at her, brows furrowed, looking for all the world like a sulking child.

Hera chuckled, ruffling his hair fondly before withdrawing her hand and reclining once more against her divan. She lifted her goblet and took another long, luxurious sip, wholly unbothered by the absolute mess her younger brother had made of things.

But then–

Athena snapped.

“For Olympus’ sake!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “Can we focus?”

Hera glanced at her, as Hermes wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. Poseidon only raised a brow, reaching for his wine once more.

Athena, however, was undeterred.

Her gaze locked onto Hera’s, sharp and determined, her mind already racing ahead of them all. “You must go to Grandfather Oceanus and Grandmother Tethys,” she ordered. “Tell them to send Periboea to Ilium, to Penelope’s side.”

She hummed, tilting her head. Hera traced a finger along the rim of her goblet, considering.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “I can attempt to sneak Periboea in.”

Athena’s eyes brightened, hope flashing across her face.

“But,” Hera continued smoothly, “there is little else I can do. You know as well as I that Troy is Zeus’ own city.” She swirled her wine, watching the deep red liquid dance against the gold. “He adores it more than any other in the world, and he does not appreciate our interference – especially when it does not serve his interests.”

Athena’s jaw tightened.

Hera smiled at her, slow and knowing.

“You know this, dear girl,” she said softly. “Do you think he will let me play my hand so easily?”

She rested further into the silk-laden comfort of her divan. She ran her fingers idly along the stem of her goblet, watching the light of the heavens dance along its intricately made designs. Her precious Hephaestus made such wonderful gifts for her.

“I like it not,” she admitted, her voice softer now, more pensive. “I, too, am fond of Penelope. It was my blessing – a gift to Mother Tethys, for her Periboea who had borne seven sons and yet still not the daughter she longed for, that resulted in her birth after all. She is a rare one among mortals – steadfast, wise, and loyal beyond all reason.” Her lips pressed together. “But, my dear girl, you must forget her. Ignore her plight for the moment and turn your mind to what truly matters.”

Athena’s face darkened, but before she could protest, Poseidon let out a heavy sigh.

“Hera is right,” he said, his voice weighted with something uncharacteristically serious. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his expression thoughtful. “We want our victory over the Trojans, and to achieve it we must turn our attention to Troy, you must turn your attention to bringing down the infallible walls of Troy. That is what matters.”

Athena’s jaw clenched, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. She could understand how her brilliant girl was feeling – one of her chosen being treated in such a demeaning manner. But she would not find sympathetic ears in the company of Hermes and Poseidon – or most men – in this qualm of hers.

“Oh, there he goes, bragging again,” she drawled, swirling her wine as she cast Poseidon a dry look. “Yes, yes, we all know you built the damn thing.”

Poseidon smirked. “And thus, I know it will not fall easily.”

Athena inhaled sharply through her nose. Oh, Hera’s precious girl. She was clever – cleverer than all of them, in truth. She surely knew this was the best course of action, but that did not make it easier to swallow.

Then, with impeccable timing, Hermes – ever sly – rose smoothly to his feet and strode toward Athena. With an exaggerated sigh, he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his easy embrace.

“Dearest sister,” he crooned, “if we bring down the walls of Troy, the matter of darling Odysseus’ wife will be solved before we know it.”

Athena did not move, but her shoulders loosened – if only slightly.

Hera tilted her head, gazing at her gently. She had seen Athena furious before. She had seen her livid, seething, ready to tear the world apart. But this – this was something quieter. Something more dangerous.

They had done what they could for Penelope.

Hera reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over Athena’s knuckles.

“We have done all we can,” she murmured.

[ninii-winchester]

Lie to me

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 4k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, Major character death, depressing thoughts, canon violence.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed in the motel room. Sam was soundly asleep on the other bed. The two of them had just burn the bones of an old lady who was haunting her old house after she'd committed suicide. Dean was tired but he couldn't fall asleep. He quietly left the room and made his way towards Baby. He knew he shouldn't disturb Y/n this late but he knew she barely slept herself. It was two in the morning and he texted her asking if she's awake and she called him instead of answering.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Was the first thing she asked as he picked up.

"I could ask you the same thing." He retorted settling in the front seat of the Impala.

"I'm not the one who came from a hunt." She replied and he chuckled. He loved how she reprimanded him for the exact same thing she does herself. He knew she wouldn't let it go unless he turned the conversation around, so he filled her in all about the hunt and how she should've joined them for this one.

"It was literally just a ghost. Salt and burn. It didn't even need two people and you're saying I should've came along too." She replied sassily. They talked for a while when she suddenly asked, "why didn't you find someone to entertain you for the night?" Dean shrugged even though she couldn't see him.

"Why would I need to find someone else when I could easily call my sweetheart." He replied with a smirk and she could hear it in his voice. This was something she hated about Dean. He constantly flirted with her and called her nicknames but never went further. She knew she had a small crush on him, who wouldn't. But he never showed any interest in her other than his incessant flirting. He hooked up with women left and right. He never even bothered to react when she was approached by guys or even if she left with one, once in a blue moon. She wasn't the type to sleep around but a girl has here needs, and finding a partner in this type of lifestyle can be a hassle. She knew Dean wouldn't turn her down if she made a move but she didn't want to be just another woman in Dean Winchester's bed so she never acted on her feelings. But his behaviour made it harder for her to keep her feelings at bay.

"I think you should've." She replied try to keep the bitterness out of her tone but it didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Why should I have?" He questioned curiously. He couldn't quite understand why she became so dismissive when the two were having a great conversation.

"I'm going to sleep, Dean. You should too." She faked a yawn and he could tell something was off. She was his best friend and he could tell she was hiding something. But at the same time he knew she wouldn't tell him no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her. That's just how she was. He let out a sigh and said goodbye hanging up. Dean wondered what made her cut the call short. He recalled the whole conversation hoping he could remember if he said something to upset her. But nothing came to mind. He let out another sigh before getting out the car and going back to his motel room.

Y/n dropped onto the mattress of the motel room she was staying at. She herself had finished a salt and burn two days ago in a town in Michigan, but she didn't leave because she liked this place. The motel room wasn't as bad as the others she'd been to and the people were nice. And there were no other hunts that she knew of. She didn't like the research work to find hunts so she mostly relied on Bobby to send cases her way. Or any other hunter who needed backup.

She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't aware of the supernatural and she lived a normal life. John Winchester once saved her from a Wendigo in the woods and she'd been grateful to him. When she had another run in with a supernatural creature, a ghost in her apartment, she called John but he didn't answer and she found his son's number from his voicemail. And that's how she met Dean. He was a flirt, she gathered the minute he walked inside her apartment and confirmed it when she cheekily asked her if she wanted to thank him some other way. She remembered the way she rolled her eyes at him and told him off and how he chuckled, sending a wink her way, telling her to call him if she changed her mind. But she also remembers how she found him extremely attractive.

Knowing about the supernatural and running into trouble twice she decided to learn to defend herself. She called Dean and asked if he could teach her. Luckily for her, he agreed saying how he didn't have anything better to do since his brother went to college and his father left him on his own. She learnt stuff quickly and after a hunt with Dean, she knew she wanted to help save people for the rest of her life. He introduced her to Bobby and Sam, when he came back and the rest was history.

Her phone rang and she groaned not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. Calls with Dean often mess with her and she had a hard time convincing herself that it's just how he is and it's nothing serious. She looked at the caller ID and furrowed her brows.

"Do you ever check the time before calling?." She spoke into her phone.

"Good morning your highness, my apologies. Did you have your tea yet?" Bobby sassed from the other side of the phone and she rolled her eyes.

"I drink coffee. Keep up old man." The man grunted in response and she chuckled. He told her he found a case and its a huge vampire nest, with probably fifteen vampires and they're causing trouble in Rockford, Illinois. "Are you really so tired of me that you're sending me there by myself?" She joked making Bobby roll his eyes to the back of his head.

"I've called Sam and Dean too. They'll meet you there." He replied. She affirmed that she heard him. Saying their goodbyes she hung the phone.

Just what I need.

She met up with the Winchesters the next day. Dean tried to get her to talk to him but she brushed him off, not bothering with him unless it was hunt related. Sam furrowed his brows at the interaction clearly baffled as she's never dismissed Dean before. The hunt went pretty well and Y/n finally let loose. She went to her friendly self as they hit the nearest bar for celebratory drinks. Her mood instantly dampened when a pretty brunette walked up to Dean and he flashed her his ever so charming smile. Y/n frowned as Dean let the woman whisk him away for the night. She'd expected him to stay but it was just wishful thinking. She knew he would never refuse a good time.

"Why don't you just tell him?" Sam quipped from beside her as she peeled at the label of her beer bottle, fingers picking at the edges absentmindedly. She sent him a glare but he didn't waver, and shot her a look.

"It's Dean. The chances of him cutting me off are far greater than him wanting anything real with me." She replied taking a swig of her drink.

"That's not..." Sam tried to defend his brother but then he stopped himself mid sentence. He knows Dean wouldn't want to risk getting close to anyone, even if it's Y/n.

Y/n patted Sam on his arm, reassuring him that she's fine and he doesn't have to make excuses for his brother. Surprisingly enough, Dean left the Impala to Sam so he left early and since she had her own car, she took her time going back. She arrived at the motel but she didn't want to go inside their room, not yet atleast. She noticed a swing set right outside the motel which was unlikely for places like these. She made her way to the swings and sat down on one. Self deprecating thoughts thoughts swarmed inside her head as she looked up at the sky.

It's her own fault she fell for the hunter anyways. She should've known she wasn't someone he'd want to be with. She's not the ideal woman one would want. At least not someone like Dean would want. She doesn't have the perfect curvy figure or any specific features that make her stand out. Her hair's unkept most of the time and she's got scars all over her body. She's not desirable.

She didn't know how much time had passed but she could see the darkness fade around her. The sun wasn't up yet it wasn't dark anymore. With a loud sigh she continued to stare ahead to figure out a way she could get out of this mess without a heartbreak. She heard the familiar thump of boots against the pavement and looked up to see Dean walking towards the motel. He had his jacket in his hand and he was whistling as he walked.

At least someone had a good night.

Dean noticed a figure perched on a swing and recognised the silhouette. With hurried steps he approached her and took a seat beside her on the swing. She turned to look at him and immediately regretted seeing the red and purple hickies that lingered on his neck.

"What're you doing out here?" Dean asked staring at her face.

"Just thinking. Did you have a good night?" Y/n replied, she wondered if she's some sort a masochist who finds pleasure in inflicting pain upon oneself.

"Yeah it was good. What're you thinking about?" Dean was curious, she'd been acting distant and he wanted to know why. She's even sitting out here in the early hours of the day when she should've been sleeping. "You're distant." He added like a child who lost his toy. He missed his best friend if he was being honest.

"Really Dean? I wasn't the who one left my friends for sex." She didn't intend to snap but his words struck a nerve and she felt the need to defend herself.

"You say as if you've never done that before!" Dean replied sharply. "Something is going on with you that you're clearly not telling me." He was getting frustrated with her behaviour and he needed to know.

"Well maybe I don't like watching you go off with women all the time." She answered harshly and he flinched at her tone. He could only managed to choke out a 'What?' not getting what she meant. She stared ahead keeping quiet.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Dean asked again.

"You're really gonna make me say it, won't you?" She scoffed and he shook his head in confusion. "I like you Dean, more than a friend." She said quietly, hoping he didn't hear her but the silence enveloping them made it left no doubt that he heard her loud and clear. She had prepared herself for his rejection but she didn't think his silence would hurt this bad.

"Y/n I, I've never-..." he stuttered not knowing how to get his point through without breaking her heart. "I've always thought of you as my best friend, is all." She looked down at her lap, nodding her head in understanding. There we no tears however her heart was being ripped apart inside.

"Why'd you always make me feel special? Constant flirt with me and gave me those nicknames. Why'd you act like you cared?" Dean rubbed a hand over his head. "Why'd you lead me on?" Her voice was small and accusing.

"It wasn't an act. I do care about you. I didn't mean to. I thought..." he trailed off not wanting to hurt her any more than he already did.

"I get it." She cleared her throat. What else was she supposed to say or do? Throw a fit? The option she had was to accept the fact that he wouldn't love her ever.

"I do love you, Y/n/n. Just not the way you-" He started but she interrupted him.

"I said I get it, Dean." She nodded again. "I think we should go inside." She said standing up from her place and heading towards the room. Sam was fast asleep when she entered the room. She sat on the pullout couch when Dean entered the room and settled on the other bed. They would usually share the bed since they'd been best friends for years but now it all seemed too awkward. Even being in the same room as him was suffocating her.

After hours of tossing and turning Dean finally slipped into a deep slumber and Y/n took it as a chance to grab her stuff and slip out of the room, and their lives. For good.

When Sam woke up he noticed Y/n was gone. Her was not in the parking lot and her bag was gone too. He shook his brother awake notifying him of her departure. Dean knew she would want to have some time apart but he didn't expect her to leave without as much as a goodbye.

"Why'd did she leave without saying goodbye?" Sam wondered out loud and Dean looked at his feet. He knew the reason she left, he was the reason she left. He shouldn't have been so careless with his gestures that gave her the wrong idea. Sam recognised the look on his brother's face as guilt. "What did you do?" He asked and Dean looked up.

"What makes you think I did something?" Dean felt offended at his brother's accusation.

"Because it's written all over your face so fucking spill." Sam glared at his brother folding his arms across his chest.

"I just told her the truth." Sam raised his brow, gesturing him to continue. "She told me she liked me and I told her I don't feel the same. It's not my fault she couldn't be an adult about it." Dean snapped, his anger flaring up as he felt unfairly portrayed as the villain.

"You told you her you don't reciprocate her feelings?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean are you insanse why would you say that?"

"Because that's the truth!! I told her I loved her as a friend, not in the way she wants me to." Dean snapped back. Sam shook his head at his brother's stupidity. Sam knew deep down Dean loved Y/n more than anyone. She was his best friend but most of she was that one person had made a special place in his brother's heart.

Sam didn't say anything instead he went out to call Y/n. She didn't any of his calls and it went straight to voicemail. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wants is to deal with her heartbreak once and for all. And then she'll go back to her friends, to Dean. And they can pretend it never happened.

Four months passed without any contact with the boys and Y/n was nowhere near getting over Dean. She'd assumed hearing him reject her would get her the closure she needed to get over her crush it seemed to be more than a crush. Over the four months Sam continued to call her and leave messages for her and she would always just send him a little text telling him alive. Nothing other than that. He was atleast greatful that was alive.

Y/n had found a ghoul case in Ohio and as much as she hated those awful creatures she decided to go. The ghoul had been digging up graves to feed on the dead, so she made her way to the cemetery, a molotov cocktail and lighter safely tucked in her jacket and a machete in case something goes southways.

With a flashlight tightly gripped in her hand she entered the cemetery. It was late and she could she a silhouette a few feet away from where she stood. It was hunched over something and she could tell he was feeding off of a dead body. She grimaced as she neared the creature. The crunch of leaves beneath her boot resounded in the otherwise quiet cemetery making the ghoul turn to look at her. The ghoul hissed at her and jumped at her before she could react. With a swift motion she dodged it and moved aside kicking it away. The creature seem to grow angry and lurched towards her, it managed to hold her arm and bit her forearm. She screamed in agony as it’s sharp teeth dug into her flesh. She took a deep breath before she pushed at his chest, the ghoul taking it as an opening to dig its claw in the side and rip a patch of flesh from her body. Y/n headbutted it and the ghoul went barreling straight into a tombstone. She fell to the ground and quickly took out the Molotov cocktail and lit it up before throwing it at it, burning it alive.

Now that the ghoul was taken care of she moved backwards until her back hit one of the tombstones and cradled her side. She was bleeding profusely and she knew she couldn’t make it out of here on her own. She could call for help but she wasn’t sure who to call. She was too prideful to call the boys. She dug out her phone from her jacket and called Bobby. He grumbled as he answered the call.

“This better be good.” The old man said over the phone. Y/n let out a chuckle at his words.

“Heya Bobby. Ran into a bit of trouble.” She said sheepishly.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Ghoul ripped my side if that’s your definition of trouble. And he bit my arm.” She scoffed followed by a chuckled.

“Where are you damnit?”

“Ohio.” She breathed out feeling herself getting tired. Bobby cursed under his breath. Ohio was a good hundred miles away. It would take him hours to reach her.

"Ohio? Damn, y/n, that’s a long way. How you even end up all the way out there?" She didn’t answer, instead she coughed, spitting the blood beside her. Bobby sighed knowing he couldn’t get to her in time. “Hey keep talking. Describe your surroundings to me.” He put her on speaker as he called Sam from his other phone. He didn’t answer so he left him a voicemail.

“Its a dark cemetery, trees are pretty though.” He heard her voice becoming quiet. “Not bad for a last view huh?” She chuckled and Bobby took in a sharp breath. He really wanted to reprimand her not to say things like that but at this point he wasn’t even sure if she’d make it. “Hey, can I call you back?” She asked randomly. The old man frowned asking her why but she didn’t respond. Instead she hung up on him. With her vision blurred she managed to call Dean. The phone rang for a few seconds and to her surprise he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Dean.” She mumbled. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” breathing was shallow and irregular, each breath coming in ragged gasps as if the air itself was slipping away.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You sound-” She interrupted him.

“You have pretty eyes. They’d make good for a last view.” She chuckled. Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words. There was something in your tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘last view’?" Dean clenched his jaw, a sense of dread building in his gut. Something was wrong, very wrong. He quickly woke Sam and filled him in on the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out.” She coughed up more blood and sputtered, choking on it. “I’m sorry for ruining….our friendship.” Dean shook his head already making his way towards his car. Sam following behind.

“Where are you? What happened?” Dean was now getting anxious. She sounded so fragile, as if she was on the verge of her end. God—he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Ohio Cemetery, Ghoul.” She heard him open his car door and slamming it shut. “I just wanted to….. I love you Dean. Tell Sam I’m sorry.” She could feel her tears builidng up as hot white pain surged through her body.

“No…no no, don’t you dare die on me.” He growled stepping on the gas. “I’m coming to get you.” She smiled wistfully, knowing it’s futile. She’s not going to make it.

“Hey Dean.” Her breaths came in faint, uneven whispers, barely rising above the sound of the surrounding silence. “Do me a favour?” Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes and he nodded his head even though she couldn’t see him.

“Anything. Just please hold on. I’m on my way.” He begged, his heart felt like it was being crushed under a weight of helplessness.

“Lie to me.” She whispered and Dean’s foot stepped on the brakes making the Impala swerve a bit. Sam looked at his brother as the car came to a halt. “Lie to me once please.” Dean knew what she meant, he knew what she wanted him to say. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not when she’s taking her last breath. And because it wouldn’t be a lie.

“I can’t.” He whispered and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t lie to you. But I can tell you I love you. It’s the truth.” Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the overwhelming sense of grief, sorrow and regret. “I love you so much it hurts.” He cried. Sam patted his brother on the back, unable to hold onto his own tears.

“You sound pretty convincing.” Y/n chuckled feeling the strength in her limbs drain with every passing moment, and her once-strong grip had become weak and feeble.

“It’s the truth, I just didn’t want you to be in danger because of me. I wanted to protect you. I pushed you away. When all I wanted was to hold you close to me. I do fucking love you.” Dean said angrily. Not angry at her but with himself for being a fool, for letting her go. For not being there to protect her.

“It’s okay.” She whispered. The atmosphere around her felt heavy and somber, marking the approach of an inevitable end. “I love you.” She felt the phone slip from her grasp as she took in her final breath. The phone fell to ground with a thud, and Dean panicked.

Dean’s desperate pleas through the phone fell into a haunting void, the line now carrying only the echoes of his sorrow. The sudden, silence left a heavy, unspoken grief that seemed to linger, a stark reminder of a love that was cut short by the cruel hand of fate.

“Y/n? Sweetheart? C’mon please talk to me.” He begged through the phone but all he got was silence from the other end. “Baby please.” Dean was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of guilt, his chest tightening with every recollection of what had transpired. He was the reason it ended like it, she left him twice, all because of his own cowardice. He was scared to love her and she left him forever. His every thought was consumed by the desire to undo the harm he believed he had caused. But it was too late now and he’s left behind to bare the consequences of his own actions.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

[theeternalwomb]

What you need to work on right now to change your life:

message: In the energy of change and transformation brought upon us by the fall season I thought I would touch on this by providing a reading to further self introspection and growth. A theme in my life right now is drastic change and growing further into my higher self and that meant for me leaving behind and releasing everything I’d ever known, loved and cared for if it was not right for me to prepare for the blessings, change and manifestations I was praying for. Even still there are instances where me pausing to reflect before I make a choice is incredibly necessary and I don’t think I’m the only one within this collective that is undergoing change and transformation or needs the tools and guidance to make different choices that will put them on the path of enlightenment after walking upon one math their entire lives or for years long karmic cycles that are ready to close out and be done for. 🤎.

note: if you're pile one or pile two, check both piles one and two, there may be messages for you in both.

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pile one:

what you need to work on:

it seems like you've reached a level in your life that's going to require you to not only become clear on what you want and make some important decisions but that requires you to enact change through action and behavior. And there's a lot here, there's a lot of planning that's going into this energy, a lot of making hard choices, cutting losses, or committing to a new version of yourself and a new lifestyle that you've never had before. a lot of you are in this space in your life where you're essentially having to decide and come to terms with wanting more for yourself and separating yourself from others who don't want more for you or who can't provide you with more or who simply are living their lives in a way that doesn't resonate with who you are and what you want out of this life.

I think it's even deeper than separating yourselves from those people on a physical level but also like on a spiritual and contextual level like acknowledging that there is more for you to have and you are not meant to be like everyone else in the sense that you do what everyone else does, settle for what everyone else settles for, etc. and that's not to say that THEY are settling because there comes a point in time where you also have to acknowledge that there are people you're setting yourself apart from who are meant to live their lives a certain way and that is there life to have and to be content with and it has nothing to do with you because you don't belong in their reality sharing the same lifestyle as them.

there are a lot of people on this earthly plane who still have various lifetimes left to live and plenty of lessons to learn and paths to embark on and that's just not you. the second you allow yourself to be different from other people, step into this role of leadership or be different to lead the masses you will unlock something within yourself and the power you need to move forward gracefully and at your fullest strength. you are not meant to work the 9-5 you keep trying to force yourself to have to assimilate, you are not meant to be doing average things, walking around like normal people, you're not meant to be in mediocre relationships with dysfunctional people you have to fight for your whole life, etc. I think there's also a fear of being seen and a fear of rejection that's coming from this pile that stems from an inner child wound.

You fear changing directions or branching out and standing on your own and it not working out or people looking at you sideways for investing in and working at what you're trying to make happen. I'm seeing imagery of like lines of people walking along the same path, bunched together and moving in sync going in all the same direction and you running out of that line and off of that pathway and running off into the distance to go be somewhere else, to go find something more for yourself and all of these people being completely confused and unsure what you're doing or what is going through your mind to convince you to depart from the group and go where you wanted to go and not wherever they're headed to if they even know where that is.

I feel like what you need to work on is remedying this thing within yourself that holds you in a state of fear and a place where you're out of alignment with what needs to be done and what's meant for you to be doing in this lifetime. There's this energy of misalignment or like disharmony or internal warfare I'm picking up on that has to do with not only fear of rejection but a lack of self-love and self-worth. How valuable you think YOU are is going to dictate how you move and how much you trust yourself to branch out and honor yourself no matter what that is. I just got a message here about some of you becoming in alignment with a member or some members of your soul family, there may be a friend of yours or a loved one whose in this pile who you're now vibrating on the same frequency with, someone you may have looked up to or seen as someone higher than you or they felt this way about you. You need to take a moment to turn inwards and look at how you feel, assess what you want to do, assess where you want to go, assess what you want and if that means you have to separate yourself from the masses to do that so that you can be in your power decide if you are willing and able to change your life.

Also like assess what type of people you spend your time around and really look at those people, I hate to sort of lead you into the energy of judgment or something like that but maybe make a list of your friends and family members and write down next to their names what types of energy they give you or what about them you've noticed or what types of things you feel like you put up with when it comes to them and how that makes you feel and affects your life, some of you could really benefit from sitting down and writing it all down so that you can think it completely through and stop trying to do mental math regarding what you're considering. It's time for you to sit down and release all the inner turmoil you're carrying within you, your deep-seated fears, your secrets, all your worries. I feel like a handful of you have been doing the inner work for years or have attempted to do the inner work to solve and release these things but it didn't work out or the issues didn't completely resolve itself but I think time is on your side and things are in your favor to succeed in what you're trying to release so that you can move on and have a good life. live a good life.

guidance:

turn inwards and focus on your personal setbacks and honor yourself by taking the time to work through them. forgive yourself for not seeing your mistakes sooner and for holding yourself back in the ways you have and prepare to move on. if you've had a hard time letting go of or moving on from anything lately it's because of the connection lower vibrational or afraid versions of yourself are carrying to those things. once you work through those things and forgive yourself you will move on. some of you are going through your spiritual awakening or your dark night of the soul. embrace that things are changing if you're new to this, follow this change to your salvation.

get your priorities in order, learn how to manage your time, create a schedule or a routine for yourself, etc. you need to hunker down and focus on your path forward and your work both your inner work and your physical work whatever that may be. invest in yourself, bet on yourself, believe in yourself!!

practice some discipline in your life and this time do it for the right reasons, some of you may have a hard time committing to things or staying committed to things you've been working on for a long time due to the mindset you have towards whatever you're working on or whatever you're doing. figure out what the issue is in your mindset and change it so that you can reach goals and do things for yourself that will better you and your life in the long run.

put some respect on your ideas, and your potential to succeed. You severely underestimate how much power you have or how much you could achieve or have if you would just honor yourself and respect yourself. Also, honor and prioritize growth and progress forward in your life. do whatever you're going to do next for your progression forward, to get where you're going, to accomplish what you want, to make yourself happy, and support yourself and your ability to have accolades.

be patient and be gentle with yourself, the reason you feel intimidated by things that overwhelm you or feel challenging and difficult is because you won't allow yourself to move at your own pace or for your success to be defined by you instead of other people. You're struggling because you're still thinking from the same school of thought that the masses use that says that you need other people to validate your success or tell you that you're moving in the right direction or doing things correctly. remember your purpose or what you're working for or what you're fighting for and if that doesn't have anything to do with living for other people you need to reestablish how you're working towards it and how much of your actions and behaviors is to please or impress others or whatever.

****

pile two:

what you need to work on: it seems like for you pile two the starting objective is that of letting go of and releasing pain or getting ready to move on from something, some experiences you've lived through, a lifestyle, or I even want to say an upbringing for some of you. There was a way that things were for you in your early life that really affected you, maybe your self-esteem, maybe your behavior (the way you communicated or the way you interacted with others), etc. Only you know your story or what you've been through but now there comes a time where you've got all these untapped talents or these untapped energetic gifts if it is even something of such large importance, it may even be a new way of living or carrying yourself that opens you up to more abundance or allows you to exist in a higher timeline through the change you're making.

Just like how we have to change our behavior and/or our mindsets to be able to maintain the lives and realities we've manifested for ourselves that are different, separate from, and better than what we've come from or experienced in the past where our old ways of thinking and behaviors may have been okay, may have been necessary to protect ourselves or may have been things we grew accustomed to. It's time to tap into that energy or work on our behaviors, our mindsets, etc. so that we can have and maintain the things that make us happy.

Even if it's things that don't pertain to other people which could be the case for a large amount of you this could be like deep-seated fears or insecurities that impair the way we view ourselves and then how we behave, or self-limiting beliefs that impair the way we show up in the world or what opportunities we allow ourselves to come into or have. for others of you, it could be behaviors that do have to do with other people, how we respond when we're frustrated, our projections, or how we treat people around us when we feel afraid of being hurt or when we feel we're in a vulnerable position, etc.

spirit wants you to work on turning inwards so that you can take some time out to tend to your healing but also tend to how it is you're feeling about your life right now or about your physical world, you could be feeling tired, burnt out, having a hard time sleeping or feeling restless, you could also be having a hard time focusing on responsibilities and on what you need to be doing right now. This is another thing you need to work on, listening to your body and turning inwards for alignment and making sure that you're okay.

there's also a need for you to focus on love right now and your romantic relationships and invest in those or someone in your energy right now that you've been pouring into, your love for them will increase even further despite you probably thinking it can't and your relationship with them will drastically improve through your self love journey but also through your focus and investment in them.

You also need to work with and focus on the sudden changes that have been going on in your life and for some of you some spiritual awakenings, there's a large amount of power that has gone untapped within you there's more for you to find on your spiritual journey.

guidance:

please invest in this love connection or whatever this is in the realm of love within your life pile two, you've got the ten of cups here symbolizing divine love, soulmates, potentially even marriage, children, etc!!

work heavily on your self-compassion, self-concept, and those internal and deep-seated emotions we talked about so they stop hindering your progression forward pile two especially those feelings and behaviors that create blockages in your relationships due to dysfunctional behavior and those that even create more issues for yourself in your day to day life in terms of the way you behave and carry yourself while facing tension and issues in your outside world.

assess areas in your life where you're holding back from taking risks or holding onto fear in your life, we already talked about deep seated fears or self limiting beliefs but spirit thinks it's important that you become clear on what it is specifically that you're holding yourself back from.

work on preparing for your personal transition forward by wrapping up unfinished business, putting to rest all those bad schools of thought, leaving your past behind you by releasing all those dysfunctional behaviors, investing in things that mean something to you within this new life, etc. to change your life requires changes in behavior, changes in your mind, changes in your habits and ways of living that is attached to an old life or old reality.

be careful that your self protection or your behaviors and tendencies to avoid getting hurt don't become greedy and hurt other people who haven't done anything to you pile two, this is really important don't block your blessings because you're afraid of losing them.

****

pile three:

what you need to work on:

Pile three... ugh my poor pile three's lol, I feel like Pile three in my readings is always the last part of the collective and there's a large amount of you that aren't yet awake or aren't yet completely aware of what's going on and what needs to be done in your lives. Some of you are sort of still in that energy of living your life in a way that doesn't have much room for introspection or pausing to come to an understanding about your hardships and why your life is the way that it is. Some of you could even have a hard time with spiritual thinking or have a hard time believing in tarot readings, divination, and all these things and I think that's completely fine as it takes everyone a while to come to a point of adjusting to the idea that there's more to the world than just the physical. The first card in your spread pile three is the nine of wands upright, to me in your reading today this nine of wands sort of gives me the energy of entering or undergoing spiritual awakening and a connection with the divine or with the spiritual realms and doing the inner work or practicing the mindfulness to bring you further in your life. There's real power in this pile and this collective that I feel like has gone untapped for a very long time due to conditioning, lifestyle choices, and for some of you maybe just the person you've grown up to be and how you view and see the world to make sense to you like I get the energy of like cognitive dissonance here or trying to avoid cognitive dissonance and opening up doors of learning or understanding of the spiritual realm to avoid your world view being turned upside down or becoming more complicated than you feel like you can handle.

But I think what many of you don't realize is that this disconnection to the spiritual realm is what's creating this empty like void you may be carrying or this feeling of dissatisfaction or lack of fulfillment in your lives. some of you guys exist primarily in the physical and material world and neglect your internal life or your spiritual lives and this is affecting you and eating away at you, what you don't realize is that you need to come to a conclusion and acknowledge this energy that's sitting within you so that you can create solutions, you guys are solution based people or have very heavy masculine energy, some of you could be men actually. A good handful of you are earth signs or earth-side dominant and disconnected from ancestors, familial roots, ties, and practice. There is more for you to have within this lifetime, I think you guys are waking up every day without purpose or without a final destination or something to liven and awaken the spirit as you walk around in your waking life. I just heard "this is no life" too, some of you are coming to realize that something is missing or that you're craving more although it may feel like or seem like you've been very fortunate in all that you've received. Some of you who are masculine energies or are men are living outside of your divine masculine energy and there is a high priestess or some sort of spiritualist around you who see's your light and has told you so or has told you something that reveals that she/he "see's" you or see's something in you.

this could be someone you may be attracted to romantically or physically who won't have you because you're missing what they need, that's very specific but it'll resonate for some of you. I think there's a real need for you to work on seeing yourself truly from an authentic place so that you can be the person or the figure that you sort of see yourself as or envision yourself as some of you are unfamiliar with the term "higher self" as well and you may need to look into that deeper, the term "higher self" is what's defined as the most conscious, most enlightened and most divine version of yourself, this is the version of you that exists outside of the ego, outside of fears, outside of limited ways of thinking and an unawakened version of ourselves that we've been carrying along with us after all our conditioning, our hardship, and our lifetime karma. this is the version of ourselves that is not only living but thriving. there's this imagery I see of someone in a meditative state and becoming more consciously aware and more awakened as they rest. Rest for the body is a means of rejuvenation and growth. This is when the body has permission to shut itself down and repair, it kind of reminds me of the scene in the avatar where they all go to bed at night and are wrapped up in this cocoon-like hammock.

I think you're in a sort of transformative state, you may feel like you're on auto-pilot or like you're sort of powering through your waking life half awake, you may feel more if not completely uninterested in your physical life and it's responsibilities or chronically unsatisfied and restless. You need to work on reconciling with your inner self and inner wisdom and returning home to yourself so that you can learn how to live an awakened experience and a fulfilling life.

guidance:

reprioritize your life or sit with yourself and decide if the direction you're going in serves you or is fulfilling to you and gives you what you want and need within this lifetime. I think a lot of you are living your life simply because you did not have a choice and you happen to just be here but I think there's significance in you finding out what your purpose is within this lifetime. Think about and consider what's most important to you, what aspects of yourself and your life you're neglecting, think about and begin to prioritize your inner world and your spirituality, and live in both the emotional/spiritual realm and the material/physical.

take a moment to think about what you want to do with your life and if what you're doing is what you truly desire, even career-wise. Is there a bigger dream of yours? what do you want to do? what do you want to contribute to the planet before you die? kind of morbid I apologize but seriously. invest your time in self-discovery and when you find out what that is make some important decisions and create a plan for yourself. there is something in your life that works for you but doesn't make you happy or make you feel fulfilled and whole.

embark on your spiritual journey or open up your mind and spirit to the possibility that there's more than meets the eye in the world you're living in, that you have a purpose, that things are happening for you and not to you, that you carry within you, divinity.

release all things that are no longer serving you, that bring you unnecessary stress, etc. you are seeing the world from a very tiny lens and there's more for you in this life than working yourself to death or enduring things "just like everyone else" because that's "just what you do."

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!

[maudie-duan]

Series Summary: Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat for nearly two years. At what point do you choose to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

Word Count: 3.6K

Warning: SLOW-BURNER, Strong Language, Major Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional.

I took your advice and became obsessed with my therapist. Maybe by the time you read this, enough time will have passed between us, and you’ll be able to forgive my previous idiocy.

Ps. I thought of you in the sun when I made this collection. I hope it brings you joy during your warm holidays.

All the love—H

I slid his note inside my phone case before leaving for New York. Now, he’ll be a secret I carry for miles, a tiny piece of him with me everywhere I go.

I guess I should clarify a few things. I, in fact, did kind of get back together with my Ex for the briefest of moments. In all honesty, it was just sex. The media chalked it up to way more than it needed to be, of course, and I got a few laughs along the way. It’s funny, even though it hadn’t been that long since we dated, a lot more of the press forgot about our past. The whole thing really put my life into perspective—it was a shit I’ve come a long way moment, and damn, life can humble you real quick.

I’ll openly admit that I did creep my Ex on Instagram. I needed to figure out where he was, and then I sent him a text pretending like I had no clue he was in South Africa, finishing up part three of a movie series I had never even watched. The question was simple:

Hey, are you still in California? 

And boom, as soon as he messaged back, the door was open. He told me he was wrapping up a movie and was moving back to LA to start a series for HBO and that he would love to catch up. In all honesty, just wanted to catch up with his dick because after Italy, I needed something easy, and we were still friendly, and I didn’t want to have to go through all the work of getting to know someone new, and yes, I know I don’t have to explain the details, but a lot has happened in the past six months.

It was strange hooking up with him again; a lot had changed between us, both in life and physically. I had forgotten how hot he was, tall and muscular; he couldn’t be further from Harry, but still, I was comparing the two, maybe looking back on it now, trying to fill a “Harry” void that no one else could fill.

For starters, my Ex is five inches taller. I found myself climbing his body in a manner I was too shy to act on in the past, constantly trying to push away the memory of how Harry and I fit, our bodies perfectly aligned, it would have been the perfect give and take—and there I was laying there with my Ex, his dick buried deep inside me, yet I only thought of Harry, his face floating across my vision every time, seriously every time, it was pathetic. 

It all started with my Ex wanting to see my new place and where I was planting roots. He said he had been keeping up with me, finding it effortless since I was becoming more “famous” than him, which was a joke; I thought we were at least reaching the same playing field.

The second he walked through the door, his stare was palpable, as if he knew exactly why he was there. When he bent at the waist to hug me, he wrapped me in his strong arms, his big hands gripping me tight. He drew in a long breath, nestling his face into the crook of my neck, dragging a breath through his nose like he was pulling me in.

I thought of Harry the moment we locked lips, the photoshoot, that weighted breath that gave him away, a chased burst of desire that sent a tingle down my spine—and here was my ex, so familiar, and I knew it would be good. I wouldn’t have to guess at cues because he was already sending them, and when I said, “I’ll show you my room first,” and turned away, he circled his arms around my body and pressed his lips to my neck—Okay, so, it was mutual, and we would spend the next two months fucking like we were making up for old times. 

It was all fast, we were both just horny. When he eventually told me he wasn’t looking for anything serious and needed to focus on work, his Aussie accent fell heavy, laced with nerves, a mournful look filling his brown eyes. I was more than happy to let him go; of course, I would miss the easy dick, but I guess I could try and put myself out there—I thought…

And then the photoshoot dropped, and what I thought would be a slow burn flipped my life upside down. I knew Harry’s fandom was loyal; I had my best friend, Annelise, to prove that. 

The thing about it was that when they revealed a sneak peek, you couldn’t even see my face. They only saw my tattoos, my brown skin, and curly hair. I could have been anybody, but the one thing that sent them pecking away at their keyboards was a close-up of Harry’s hand on my hip, his fingers spread, gripping my flesh with a pang of obvious hunger, and there peeking through was the tattoo of the word ‘Honey’ inked into my skin—They loved that one the most—It only took them a couple of days to figure it out—Now, cue the flood of new followers.

But what got fans the most was that Harry recorded a new song specifically for that campaign. It give the world a sample of his upcoming album, and with this, he could have played it off as, you know, just fun, just fucking around in the studio, and that’s where the magic began, but then, he had to go and slip up. 

An interviewer asked him about the photoshoot shortly after the buzz started swirling, then he had to go and blab his mouth—and this part truly threw me for a loop because I’ve watched many of the interviews he’s done in the past, and he’s usually good at skirting around questions, always inconspicuous—a poster board for Aquarius’s everywhere, always aloof in the many plans and projects he has in the works, and I applaud that, I really do. 

So when said interviewer asked, “So where did you draw inspiration for this new song?” He literally said:

“Hmmm…don’t know, really. My last trip to Italy was really memorable, and I remember doing that photoshoot and feeling really inspired afterward…” and there’s a crooked, lopsided smile playing at his lips the entire time, an unmistakable shift in his mood. It was like he was recalling a pleasant memory of the past. 

And let me tell you. I’ve watched this interview every night before bed for the last four months straight, no lie—Then someone clears their throat in the background of the video. Harry’s face drops ever so slightly like they’re bringing him back to the present, keeping him in line, and the way his eyes shift to the person off the screen, with that, Oh shit, kind of look on his face is so apparent it aches, then he attempts to play it off with one of those charming smiles, and he changes the subject in seconds, barely covering his ass, except he didn’t.

Because fuck, everyone was on my ass after that, shipping us even before he and Olivia had even officially split. It made me want to stay as far away from him as possible and be even more vigilant with what I said or how I reacted in front of the camera. It made me hate him and want him at the same time, and yes, I do want him. I always have, but look at where we are, and after that stupid drunk dial. I wanted him even more, to be able to pick up my phone and hear that fucking voice like velvet, the way it crept up my spine and wrapped itself around my insides like a warm hug. 

The thing is…I’ve had full access to Harry this whole time. I could have picked up the phone and called him whenever I wanted, but I wanted to rid him from my system. Yet, it was nearly impossible. I thought maybe if I put myself out there, all of the “Harry noise” would die down, but it seemed to only make the fans more stir-crazy. 

I guess I’m not free of blame if we’re being honest. After I shot that live with Timothee, I followed ‘Pleasing’ on Instagram, which I thought I could preface with me just being supportive; they did send me merch after all, but on the other hand. I know Harry had to have sent them deliberately, to get my attention, the handwritten note, and not only did he create a new launch with me in mind, There was also a song floating around, one that was really good actually, and as I’m shoving my headphones into my ears right before the plane takes off, it’s the first song I play, and now ‘Daydreaming’ has become my theme song, and somehow I can’t even be mad about it.

New York would be fun. I was only there for a few days, and everything was already lined up. There would be more free time than business, and I wanted to fit in as much as possible because I had only been to New York once. This time, I could actually be part of the hustle and bustle of everything, or at least feel that way, having a purpose to be there. I also got to spend more time with Timothee.

The first day was the only business I had on my schedule. I had a guest appearance on The Howard Stern Show, which I was looking forward to. It wasn’t as painful as I thought, and although he did ask a shit ton of questions about Harry—I think I managed to sideline them easily—The only thing that tripped me up were his random questions about Timothee, and how Howard seemed to be unusually intrigued by him, becoming more interested by Timothee than me toward the end of the interview and I was his guest.

That night, I had dinner with Timothee and his family, and somehow, we managed not to be photographed, not a single picture floating around. I did get pictured with his sister the next day when she took me around the city, showing me all her favorite vintage/thrift shops scattered about, hopping on the subway, and filling our stomachs with junk food. Even though she grew up here, Pauline took on the role of a tourist, which was greatly appreciated. 

That night, we hung out with T at his place, ordering takeout and binge-watching Sons of Anarchy, starting from season two because Timothee insisted it was the best season. He ended up explaining more of the show than necessary, which resulted in me missing more essential parts, so we turned the show off to turn on a movie.

When Pauline left partway through the movie, I took to the internet. I was trying to be polite and stay off my phone, but all night, I could feel my fingers twitching to be on my screen. The cast of ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ was spotted landing in NYC yesterday, and I wanted to see if there were any new pictures of Harry out on the town. 

This was the first time we had been in the same country, in the same town, since London, and the feeling of seeing his feet hit the pavement on a street I might have walked on only hours before had my heart racing every time I pick up my phone and typed in ‘Harry Styles’ on every platform that made my life easier to track him.

Yes, I think I’m obsessed, but I have a feeling it might be mutual.

“What is that look on your face?” T asks, smiling over at me. I’m sprawled across his sofa, Timothee on the floor with his back resting against the couch, and every time I shift my knee, it nudges the hollow space in the middle of his back.

“Nothing, I’m just—” I trail off because that clip of Harry acting dodgy toward Olivia at their Venice premiere is all over my feed, and the site of the two of them makes me fucking cringe.

The whole situation is odd. I’ve been keeping up with all the gossip, taking it with a grain of salt, but shit, a lot of it seems creditable, and it’s not a good look for either one of them, not that I’m judging by any means, but hell, I would not want to be either one of them right now or be stuck hanging around the other. Harry almost came off as childish, which kind of turned me off, and I wish I could call him up and be like, bro, what was your deal? But something tells me that would be embarrassing for both of us. 

Timothee’s head falls back on my leg, and I shift my eyes from my phone to catch a yawn forming at his mouth. Then I yawn, reaching forward to tussle his curls, eliciting a soft smile as his eyes drift shut, and I fight the urge to caress his cheek.

As I pull away, he opens his eyes, and we both smile. “Did Flo text you?” he asks, slicing through the silence, and he stands to gather the dishes. “She said they’re having an afterparty tomorrow, and we should come.”

I force myself to lock my screen and focus on the conversation, “She called me, but I didn’t answer…”

“Oh, I bet that’s why she was calling—” he shouts from the kitchen. 

I ponder this for a few seconds, thinking of all the possible outcomes of me showing up at their cast afterparty: First off, Harry will be there unless he doesn’t show, but wouldn’t that be highly unlikely?

I would be showing up with Timothee, and that might look weird. Harry and I are both single, and while he might be in close proximity to his ex right now, they don’t seem to be interacting very much. However, I can only see what everyone else sees. I’m sure I could ask Florance, but she’s not really a fan of either one of them right now. It seems like they were even lucky to get her there in the first place—The whole thing is one big shit show.

Plus, if I go, I want to be there to support Flo, not be another girl getting googly-eyed over Harry right now. He has had enough of that already. I mean, they must have known that was going to happen when they hired him. It was smart on their end, but damn, I really want to go, just to be in the same room as him, and I would be on my best behavior, not even giving him a single glance unless he was in my line of sight and by that, I wouldn’t be able to avoid him, and I could just think the heavens later. 

I, for one, don’t want any chance of us being photographed together; I have no intention of stirring the pot unless my pot is getting stirred.

“We should go…” I smile, and then T matches my smile, and I feel like I know what he’s about to say.

“You just want to see Harry…” He laughs, lifting my legs to plop down onto the couch, and I scoot myself up, drawing my knees to my chest.

“I mean…I would be there to support my friend. I can’t help that he’ll just happen to be there…” And I know my smile is giving me away, but I’m just so excited to see him, just a glimpse, just to know that, yes, he was real, and that maybe I’ll see that look in his eye—the want, the need—even if it’s fleeting, it would be enough.

I need to know if this is real or if I’m so caught up in the rumor mill that maybe I’m starting to believe the chatter. 

“Have you talked to him since that photoshoot?” he asks, and my heart drops, the memory causing a dull ache in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t told anyone about the drunk dial, not even my best friend. I didn’t want to tarnish Harry’s name for her.

I exhale, my lungs heavy with gloom, “Honestly…umm…he kind of drunk dialed me one night, like after the shoot…” And it’s spilling out of my mouth, and the thing about Timothee is that I trust him. He’s already trusted me with so much of his private life, so it feels safe and freeing at the same time.

“Okay…so you saw that note the other day, right?” I pick up my phone and pop the case off, the note falling into my lap. “That day when you read this…that was the first time I had heard from him since that night.”

“He called me after the photoshoot, I think…maybe the next day or the day after…I don’t know, I’ve been trying to forget about it, but he kind of confessed his feelings for me…”

Timothee sits up then, “Wait, what? I thought you didn’t know him?”

“I don’t—I guess…ummm…I mean, it’s kind of hard to explain. I guess it’s a feeling or something. I saw Harry at the Gucci Show, then the next day, we did that photoshoot, randomly, and there was just this crazy connection…”

He laughs, “No shit, dude, look at you both…” And I shake my head, smiling down at the note. 

“It’s not like that…I mean, I’m sure it could be like that…but I think it’s more than that…?” I shrug my shoulders, shaking the thought from my head.

“It’s honestly so confusing, and that fucking photoshoot blew everything up…”

T shakes his head and laughs nervously, “Dude, it really did…” 

“I think I get it, though… “ he says after a beat of silence. “It makes sense…your avoidance.”

My head falls back against the arm of the couch with a thud, and I force out a deep breath. “Is it that obvious?”

“No—definitely not, but I’ve been around you, and also, I could tell by the way you navigated that live the other day…you’re pretty good at that. It’s really shocking that you haven’t had media training.”

I laugh, “Yeah…it just seems like common sense…” 

“But a lot of people don’t have that. I’ve had a lot of training. I feel like I was a lot more open in the past, but I feel like I’m getting better at leaving some stuff for myself.” He explains.

“I’ve always liked your interviews…as long as you’re you at your core, then you’re golden. Those fans are always going to swoon over you.”

Timothee swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Yeah…but sometimes you just want the right person to swoon over you…” Then his eyes flick to me, making my heart pick up, the comment hanging in the air between us. What does that even mean?

He smiles, looking down at his hands, suddenly shy. “So…do you want to go to the afterparty?” he asks, and when he looks back at me, there’s something contemplative about his gaze, like maybe he wants to say more, so I wait for him to continue, and when he swallows, his green eyes trained on me, for the first time I’m starting to guess second what this friendship might be because his face is so serious and when I say:

“I want to go…” I watch his chest deflate, a low exhale as he scoots forward on the couch cushion, and when he clasps his hands together and lets his head drop, I’m holding my breath, the sudden shift in his mood making me wonder if that was some sort of test. 

Then he says, “I think you guys will be good together…” Oddly enough, it even sounds genuine and thoughtful. A smile spreads on his face, but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. When he looks away, pulling out his phone to end the conversation, the air is thick with questions, making me reconsider everything, like maybe Harry was just the push I needed to get myself back out there.

A/N: Shiloh and Harry are a little messy, but I think most of us are here for their bullshit, lol. Anywho...enjoy catching up with Shiloh. Tag List is always open for future updates. Let me know in the comments!

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT: Hmmm...is Shiloh actually going to consider Timothee?

->chat with me<-

Tag List: @howling-wolf97 @sassamanda77 @babegoalsreads @palmettogal508 @indierockgirrl @lizsogolden @sexymfharriet @pologoonies

PART NINE

All Chapters Here <-

[moremaybank]

SOMETHING STUPID — s.h

pairing steve harrington x fem!reader

summary steve's overwhelmed by the love he feels for you and blurts out a question he can't take back. he's sure you'll think he's crazy, but do you?

warnings language, but it's basically just a whole lotta fluff and steve being the cute cutie he is

author's note did i pull inspo from haley’s dad’s speech in oth?? hell yes. also, i'm really happy with how this turned out, not gonna lie. please read if you have the chance, it'll make my day ♡︎

steve masterlist

When Steve steps through the door after work with an exhausted sigh, he’s pleasantly surprised. He’s spent his entire life coming home to an empty house, always filled with a blaring silence that acted as a daunting reminder of how lonely he felt deep down inside. There was never anyone around to ask him how his day was. What was going on in his life, or if he was happy — and not the phoney kind. 

He’s so used to weathering the storm on his own, day in and day out, that he’s completely forgotten someone will be there for him this time. The previously empty home is now occupied by you and your bright, loving energy. The quiet was replaced with your music bouncing off the walls. You’re active in the mostly untouched kitchen, baking to your heart’s content and constantly stuffing your Stevie’s face full of sweets. 

Steve finally feels as if he truly has a home, and not just a place where he stores his belongings and rests his head at night. 

He makes his way through the halls, finally reaching the entryway to the kitchen and leaning against the doorframe. The dimmed lights glow throughout the room, and the artfully scattered candles burn brightly in the darkened space. Further adding to the already homey atmosphere, the sweet aroma of fresh baked goods fills the air, thanks to the chocolate chip cookies you have baking in the oven. Even with all of this going on, though, Steve can only seem to focus on one thing. 

You. 

Your frilled socks glide against the kitchen floor as you jump and twirl around on the tiles. The sound of Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac quells the silence, your record player turned up the highest it can go (because, in your professional opinion, there was no other way to listen to music). You pull out your signature dance moves, screwing your eyes shut and kicking your legs in the air so many times that Steve fears you’re in an imaginary fight with someone — and losing. Terribly. He also takes notice of the spatula in your hand, acting as a stand-in microphone while you lip-sync along to the lyrics. 

You’re a goofball, through and through. Still, though, Steve is utterly smitten.

“Sweet moves, baby,” he says, loud enough to be heard over the music. 

Your eyes go wide as your body stills, completely mortified that Steve has caught you in your own little world. You turn the music down, swiping the stray hairs away from your slightly sticky forehead and clearing your throat. 

“Steve! H-hey. I was just, uh…cleaning the floors. You know, makin’ them all nice and shiny for you,” you laugh uneasily. It’s complete crap and you both know it, but you’re desperate. Frankly, you’ll say anything if it means distracting Steve from this whole performing your own world tour in the middle of the kitchen thing. 

Steve cocks a brow, tongue poking his cheek as he tries to hide the grin that threatens to come into view. “Hm,” he hums, “cleaning the floors, huh?”

“Yup.”

“…With your socks?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, still slightly breathless, “It’s a…great way to incorporate exercise into daily household chores.”

Steve tries to stop it, but he can’t help but let a laugh escape from his lips. He walks over to you, arms wide open and ready to encircle around you. “C’mere, you goof. Gimme some sugar.”

You break out into a grin, happily stepping into your boyfriend’s embrace and giving him a tight hug. You feel his hands smooth down your back before wrapping around your waist and holding you tighter to him. After a moment, you pull away, and your hands come up to his face so you can press your lips to his. He hums into the kiss contently, melting into the touch he’s been longing all day for. 

“Missed you so much,” Steve pouts, his bottom lip jutting out adorably. 

“I missed you too,” you reply, granting him another kiss. “How was your day?”

Before Steve can answer, Say You Love Me comes to a stop, and the soft sounds of Landslide begin to bleed into the silence. Choosing to let you enjoy your favourite song, Steve shrugs it off, “We can talk about that later, wanna dance with you.”

Steve extends his hand toward you, silently asking for you to join your hand in his. You smile, sliding your palm into his and letting him pull you to his chest. He keeps his other hand on the small of your back, and your free arm curls around his shoulder as the two of you begin to sway together in time with the music. Steve feels you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and relax further into his hold, and he lets the voice of Stevie Nicks wrap around you both like a warm blanket as he holds you. 

The two of you sway back and forth, taking a peaceful moment to feel your hearts beat against one another. Steve never wants to let go. This is the closest and most intimate he’s ever felt with anyone, and that should scare him, he thinks. But it doesn’t, because being with you feels like heaven on earth. He can’t believe that he’s found someone who makes his heart soar the way you do. Who makes him smile so hard his cheeks hurt, and gives him a love so deep and true that it’s become a vital part of him. Just thinking of you makes his knees weak.

He’s completely enamoured by you.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, breaking him free from his thoughts as you pull away from his grasp slightly. 

Steve looks down at you, remaining silent, and his gaze flashes over your features. The kind eyes he feels he’s always known. The tiny scar near your temple from where you’d gotten stitches as a child. The curve of your lips and how he swears he can feel them gliding over his own every single time he thinks about them. He then moved onto the oversized t-shirt your body is clad in — one you’d obviously stolen out of his closet, and the pair of boxers hanging from your hips (also swiped from his wardrobe). Your aforementioned frilly socks pulled your signature at-home look together, one that brought an incredible amount of comfort to Steve. It shows him that you consider his home to be your home too. That you’ve found a home in him, just as he has with you.

He can see himself doing this whole life thing with you forever, and he can’t explain it, but he suddenly feels compelled to speak up, and the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. 

“Do you wanna get married?” 

Your head shoots up, and you peer up at him with a look of shock. “I’m sorry, w-what?”

Steve’s eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets, and his heart rate skyrockets as the panic waves through him. “Oh god, I- I said that out loud,” he says, slowly letting go of you and running a hand through his long chestnut locks. “Wow. Uh— Okay.”

“Did— Did you just ask me to marry you?” You stammer, quiet as a mouse. You don’t move. Steve doesn’t think you can. 

It’s obvious that you think he’s gone certifiably insane. His hands raise in defence, and he manages to start blurting out everything he can in an attempt to rectify the situation. “Listen, baby, we can totally act like that never happened—”

“Steve—”

“—In fact, it didn’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about, babe. No freakin’ idea—”

Finally, your hand cups over his mouth to stop him from rambling any further. His last few words sound muffled before they eventually come to a stop once he realizes what’s happening. His fingers curl around your wrist, moving your hand from his lips before giving you a small, sheepish smile. His cheeks flush profusely, “Sorry.” 

Oh, the things Steve would do if it meant he could take back the last few minutes of his life and go back to before he opened his big mouth and ruined everything. It’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you. That’s definitely not the case. But the regret he’s currently feeling after watching your horrified reaction play out…it’s enough to make him want to jump into his pool and never come back up for air. 

But then…when your eyes seem to light up and a small smile curves your lips upward, he thinks there just might be some hope left for him. 

“You wanna marry me?” You questioned, your hands finding solace on his lower arms. “Why?”

His brows pull together in confusion? Why? He can see the doubt eating away at you by how small you’ve become in the past few seconds. Are you truly doubting how much you mean to him? How much you’ve spun his world on its axis and changed him forever? 

“I— What?” 

“Why would you want me to marry you?”

“Yeah, I got that, I just…are you serious?” You nod, giving him the slightest shrug. Your shyness is peaking through far too much for you to offer him any more of a reaction. 

A soft and gentle laugh slips past his lips and his body relaxes. His warm palm smoothes up your arm and finds its resting place at the base of your jaw. His thumb swipes over your skin, and his warmth bleeds through your flesh. All the love he holds in his heart for you floats up to his eyes, and his chocolate orbs soften. He’s never felt so tender and full of affection as he does now. 

“You have no idea how special you are to me, do you?” 

He says it with such conviction that you know the words are true to his heart. Still, the way they hit you is all too much, and you can’t help but deflect them with a tiny joke. Your eyes fall away from his. “I mean, I figured you liked me a little.” 

“Stop,” he chides, albeit gently. He guides your gaze back onto his. “I’m serious.” 

It’s your turn to apologize as your cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Just, hear me out.” 

“Okay,” you murmur. 

His left hand mirrors the hold his right one has on your face. The ring you gifted him for your first anniversary is cold against your skin. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he takes a breath before speaking. “You— You’re staggering, honey. You’ve given my heart a home. You’ve had it since the moment I met you, and you’ve kept it safe. Cherished it and nurtured it. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted. I— I look into your eyes and it's like I can see the rest of my life inside ‘em.” 

Your heart melts, and you feel the tears start to pool in the brims of your eyes. “Steve,” you whisper. 

“I have no idea what’s going to happen in the future. Not a freakin’ clue, especially with all the supernatural shit that goes on in this town. But I do know that you’re supposed to be in it. You are my future, baby. I might not know a lot, but I do know this. You are the girl I’m going to spend my life loving. And I’m gonna give you everything if you’ll let me.”

His heartfelt words are almost enough to make you forget about your doubts. You want them to. But you can’t seem to quiet the worries circling inside your head. 

“Steve, I love you. You know I do. But, aren’t we too young? I don’t want to risk losing you. I don’t think I could take it if I did.” 

His hands slide down your neck and land on your shoulders. His warmth spreads through you again, and already, you feel better. It’s almost as if all he has to do is exist to wash your fears away. 

“I know. I know we’re young. But, so what if we are? To me, that just means I get to be with you even longer.” One hand abandons your shoulder, and he hooks his index finger under your chin. The pad of his thumb strokes over the tip of your chin. Eyes boring into your soul, he holds them captive. “You can drive at sixteen, drink at twenty-one, retire in your sixties. How old do you have to be to know that your love will last? ‘Cause I know my answer, down to the second.” 

You can’t seem to hide the smile that forces its way onto your lips. The sincerity in his gaze, the vulnerability he’s shown you since day one, it’s all too much. You can’t imagine ever walking away from him, can’t imagine what your life would be like if he wasn’t in it. Mornings you shared where he’d pout as soon as you mentioned getting out of bed. Picnics on warm summer days. Hearing him sing along to the radio in the car. You want those memories and every single one that would come to you in the future — your future with him. 

“Ask me again.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed. But just as he’s about to do as you asked, half of the words leaving his mouth, you can’t contain the excitement. Your lips slam onto his as you pull him closer. You murmur a few yesses against his lips and feel them spread into a grin. Soon, his arms are wrapped around your waist and he’s lifting you up and into the air, spinning you around with joy. The kitchen is soon filled with giggles, and Steve is exclaiming your news loudly, even though you’re both alone.

“We’re getting married, sweetheart!”

STEVE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @oncasette @taintedxkisses @findapenny @bmo-bri @hemogloban @slytherhoes @shawnspoems @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @earth2starkey @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @cilliansangel @darleneslane @sya-skies @gillybear17 @lovelyxtom @rcbuttercup @redhead1180 @runningfrom2am @thejuleshypothesis @scarlettocean @subconsciouscollapse @violetmacher @iluvteyqmm @buckyisveryhot

[stupidlittlespirit]

Please give us some Ford and medfetish head canons please 😭😭

I'm trying to keep my mind off of other stuff so I'm gonna get a little detailed under the hood to give myself a decent distraction..... If you know me irl and you see this then..... No you do not! Don't judge me, I am very normal and can be trusted at the doctor's office!

tw: medical fetish/experimentation fetish/anaesthesiology & drug administration/physical exams/dissection (potential gore?)/small and very vague mention of mild cnc under the influence of drugs

(this is all going to be post portal!Ford centric)

I think at a basic level, Ford would enjoy a good old fashioned doctor-patient roleplay.

He'd enjoy having his subject lie down on his examination table and go through the ins and outs of a standard health exam. He'd be kitted out, obviously: lab coat, mini torch, stethoscope, latex gloves, the whole shebang. I expect he might have a lot of biology-related equipment in the lab already from supernatural subject testing, but if he needed more specialist equipment he'd just order it ahead of schedule.

His subject would be nervous, of course; it's intimidating to be intimately exposed in a room where the only other person present is someone senior to you and is still fully dressed, but Ford would be quick to pick up on their little trembles and he'd reassure them that they'll be well taken care of.

I imagine he'd either film it or record the audio. Not sure why, just seems like it would be important to have for his 'records'.

Ford would start off with generalised stuff, including reflexes, before moving onto something more.... Erotic? Gag reflex, for example. He might use a notched, glass tongue depressor (these are pretty old school, they use wooden ones now I believe) to see how much the subject could take back into their throat, to test how deep they can swallow around the depressor. He'd use his torch to shine in to watch the subject's throat convulsions, too. I think he'd just appreciate watching the human body react.

Then, I think a breast exam would be fun for him. He'd measure and then go on to check the subject's nipple reflex etc, still monitoring and noting down the reaction to stimuli, both from his fingers and his mouth.

And of course, a gyno/penile inspection ("feet in the stirrups for me please, my dear...")

(This is going to focus on vaginal because anal is not for me, it is personally triggering for various reasons that I don't want to explain, but I understand that a Reader may prefer it or may not have a vagina, so try to just apply what I'm saying to anal instead of requesting I write it, just in case anyone planned to, thank you! :) )

Again, reflex and stimulation response, making sure everything is in working order. I imagine he'd expect to need to use lubricant of some kind but be pleasantly surprised that nothing is needed, so he'd move along onto penetrative response.

Fresh gloves applied and then we're onto digital penetration! Now, Ford Dr Pines would have some standards already set; One, two, three, four fingers? Easy peasy. He'd know that his subject could take that, that's amateur hour as far as he's concerned. What he'd be interested in is how much further could his subject stretch? Dr Pines has big hands, after all, with thick fingers, and with six of them he's going to be expecting to go big or go home. Pushing boundaries is his whole thing!

He'd ratchet the stirrups a little further apart and ease a fifth finger into his subject, moving them slowly and carefully until his subject is acclimatised to the width and taking them with ease. The entire time he'd be singing their body's praises, too. Not in a dominant way, but just in a genuine, loving 'I'm really into you, and biology in general' type of way.

He'd be sure to question his subject throughout the process, too. Just like a regular sexual health appointment he'd be requesting information on his subject's sex life and general health, most of them bordering on inappropriate in terms of details, but he'd assure them the inquiries were perfectly normal and to be expected.

Now, I'm not into fisting and so I'm not going to write that, but I think he'd be very pleased if he managed to get his entire hand inside his subject, just for a moment. There'd be something endlessly wonderful to him to see the one part of himself that is so personal to him meet with the most intimate part of his beloved subject.

I think he'd play with a little oral stimulation, too. I doubt I have to go into this too much, so I'll leave you with the concept of him applying varying pressures of mouth/suction stimulation and taking breaks to yap his observations to the camera/recorder, playing totally dumb to the way it's absolutely torturous for his subject to be wound up and denied release.

He'd pause if his subject was too wriggly, though, and probably put them in restraints. For their own safety and for his; this is delicate! He wouldn't want his subject to hurt themselves.

For penile inspection, it would be very similar. Sensation testing and sperm production would be test-worthy to him.

And then he'd go about doing a general check up, the normal sort of stuff that you'd expect etc etc, until he'd lead it into sex.

I actually think he'd prefer to jerk himself off while he performed each test, as opposed to going into full penetrative sex with his subject. Not to say he wouldn't like that, but I just find watching masturbation to be much hotter sjsdhdhsjsjd

Now. To the more intense stuff:

Gags are used sometimes in medfet. They tend to be close to/or are professional dental equipment, such as a Jennings gag or similar. Personally, however, I think Dr Pines would quite enjoy engineering some of his own creations....

I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with equine dental spectrums (not many, I'm sure) but they're weird devices that I've been kind of obsessed with since I got to use one on a horse years and years ago (a visiting equine dentist let me, a student at the time, help out with my own horse's check-up and it was very cool and interesting!). Now, these things are big, obviously, and clunky. Google McPherson speculum (sfw). The part that forces the mouth open can be cranked to a preferred width, and there are metal troughs that cup the horse's front teeth and prevent cutting the vet's arm.

So, let's say our lovely Dr Pines decided to engineer a smaller, customised McPherson speculum for his subject. He'd create one that wrapped around his subject's head and parted their mouth nice and wide for him. Maybe

He'd lower his exam bed until his subject was laying prostrate and inspect their throat and molar teeth. This would probably be a variation on the basic oral exam I talked about at the start, just with harsher equipment. Cue gag tests, possibly with a proper, more phallic shaped, glass instrument. Maybe even his own cock. Depends on his fancy.

Another area is needle play/play piercing. He might be interested in sensation play with them or just simply enjoy the aesthetic of them. We could get weird with it and include some suspension flesh hook stuff, but I think that kind of stuff would be more suited to research era!Ford, for obvious reasons..... It's quite extreme.

Anaesthesia play, for me, is also interesting. Now, in real life, you don't use actual drugs. You'd use hypnotic suggestion, poppers, OTC sleepy pills or breathplay etc. But with Dr Pines? Well, you'd be in safe enough hands to risk dabbling with some groovy substances.... He wouldn't want his subject out cold, however. Just on the cusp.

Ever had gas and air? Well, I have (in a medical context), and it's kind of very fun. It made me feel lightheaded and woozy, and really giggly. It's basically a whippit (no idea if this is much of a thing outside of the UK??) and although you really shouldn't use them in a recreational context, they're not going to kill you if you use them once or twice under the right supervision. (do not condone, do not do this! *wags finger*)

I think Dr Pines would enjoy plying his subject with some delicious nitrous oxide until they were well and truly under the influence, and then either engaging in sex/orgasm extraction whilst they were restrained on the examination table or.....

He'd move from there into cutting: So, cutting is what it sounds like. Typically, a person would make small, shallow incisions with a scalpel and do some blood play etc, then bandage or sew them up. But because this is la la land, Dr Pines is going to go further than that.

Dr Pines would prefer to administer gas to relax his subject, then numb an entire area (let's say his subject's forearm) and dissect it. He'd want to see the inner machinations of his subject's body, to see how they really ticked and also, there's something very romantic about knowing your lover literally inside out, imo.

Now I know irl a person would probably pass out if they saw their insides for real, but this is fiction and Dr Pines' subject is tough. They're going to be into it. Like, I N T O it.

And then he'd lovingly stich his subject back up and nurse them back to health through aftercare.

I know, I know, this is surgery-level shit. This is not practical. I do not care. I want him to open me up and rummage around in there. I think it'd be cool.

Scenarios to apply medfet to:

Doctor-patient

Dentist-patient

And my personal favourite is always going to be: mad scientist-test subject and unethical experiments, hence the use of 'subject' instead of patient throughout this whole answer lol. It suits him too well to ignore. I'm sure you agree.

I could also apply this with Ford as the test subject too. As I mentioned previously, I think a little fic where he's the one who is picked up by a curious alien scientist and tested on would be fun, too. It would give me room to play with him being submissive..... Food for thought.

We'll have a little doctor-patient play in the Spores sequel, though it won't be a proper kink set up, but I am probably going to write a full play scene inspired by this post. This was fun to think about and it's got me imagining more about this kind of stuff now.

I have no idea if this was what you meant when you sent this ask, so I'm sorry if this wasn't quite what you were looking for but I hope it's at least a bit fun! :) I had fun and I really needed this distraction. So thank you, anon.

[paperstorm]

2024 fic round up!

I was tagged by so many lovely people I have lost track of them, so my whole tag list is under the cut! I wrote 270,000 words this year, including the entire Missing Moments season 3. Thank you to everyone who commented or kudosed or reblogged or read silently, the support for writers in this fandom is really so wonderful 💛

Missing Moments [a series of canon compliant tags for every episode of Lone Star, seasons 1-3 completed]

3x01 – Imperfect pieces pulling at the glue (9.1k) 3x02 – Up in smoke (9.4k) 3x03 – Wayfaring strangers (10.4k) 3x04 – Homeward bound (15.7k) 3x05 – Reconstruction (7.3k) 3x06 – All these sacred melodies (8.5k) 3x07 – Everest to mariana (8.2k) 3x08 – "You have one new message..." (12.4k) 3x09 – Cracks begin to show (5k) 3x10 – Push and pull (5.2k) 3x11 – Where the rain won't hurt (9.7k) 3x12 – Losing streak (4k) 3x13 – Heard the risk is drowning (15.3k) 3x14 – Live in the layers (5.6k) 3x15 – Switch (5.5k) 3x16 – Everything and every dream (5.6k) 3x17 – Move into the new (7.5k) 3x18 – Forever is the sweetest con (10.1k)

Hold me too close (1.8k)

Carlos’s lips curve into a small responding smile and he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He tilts his chin forward, asking for a kiss, that TK gives him readily because he thinks it would hurt like having a limb ripped off if he didn’t. Carlos’s lips are smooth and damp against his, wet with the salt from his tears.

“Wanna go for a walk?” TK asks when they part, and Carlos quickly nods.

A small extension of the scene after Tommy sings at their wedding.

In Loving Memory for @carlos-in-glasses (1.3k)

The word son catches his eye, and Carlos frowns and tucks his head to look closer. His legacy will continue to live on through his son’s own dedication to public service, is written at the bottom of the thin obituary.Carlos feels his stomach roll and his mouth slacken. Heat blooms in his cheeks and the tips of his fingers tingle. Next to him there’s a tiny, nearly imperceptible gasp – as TK finds the same words and his grip tightens further on Carlos’s arm.

Silver Lining's Gold and Shining (25.3k)

A story of nine pivotal moments in Carlos's life, and nine times his best friend was there beside him.

Butterflies and Sky-High (8k)

TK leans in closer and rests his forehead against Carlos’s cheek, understanding that this is hard for him. Carlos is so heart-warmed by the gesture that it gives him the courage to say, “I’ve been reading about demisexuality. It’s this thing where …”

“I know what it means,” TK says softly, and thank God he does because Carlos isn’t sure he would have done justice to an explanation anyway. Not right now.

“I think … maybe I am. That. I didn’t think I was anything other than gay but then I was reading and some stuff started to make sense.”

Made From Stardust (8.2k)

Adoration swells in your chest as it always does when the warmth of his smile is draped over you like a blanket. You could not express in words, not even if you spoke 50 languages instead of just two, the magnitude of your love for this man. It’s too big, too necessary, too seeped into the cracks of every plane of your existence. You cannot be you without him, because the you who sits here on this couch with your fiancé in the home you share with him would never have taken shape without his guiding hands. A man named Carlos Reyes would have existed, but not this one. He would have been somebody else.

A collaboration with @reasonandfaithinharmony, check out her beautiful gif set 🖼

Fine Line (6.8k) for @heartstringsduet

Carlos ghosts a kiss along TK’s cheek, feeling the shudder of TK’s inhale as he murmurs, “You need me?”

“I …” TK swallows, his throat clicks and Carlos hears it.

Their knees bump and Carlos trails his fingers through TK’s hair and just waits. He doesn’t ask again, he just holds TK in a vertical embrace and strokes his hair and stays patient.

“There’s something that’s helped in the past,” TK says in a small voice. “Something you and I haven’t done before.”

brighter in the morning (40k so far) cowritten with @strandnreyes

Sometimes nights together are hard to come by, but TK and Carlos find ways to connect as husbands in the morning.

A series of 12 mornings together for each of the 12 episodes in season 5 (plot permitting …)

Somewhere in a Song (23.7k so far)

Fresh out of rehab for drug and alcohol addiction, lead singer TK and his band Stranded are pushed into a tour he's not sure he's ready for. To combat the bad press from his very public hitting of rock bottom, his label suggests they take up-and-coming country singer Carlos along with them. Between TK's still healing wounds and closeted Carlos's fears that his parents don't support his musical career, a rocky start might turn into finding exactly what they both need.

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@hereghostslive @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89

@carlossreaders @ladytessa74 @denizoid @everlastingday

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[luvdalkxdlk]

ZZZ 1.6: MY ROMAN EMPIRE OF TWO LINES

OK, before I go to absolute spoil, know that this will contain the latest spoilers for the main story, about crownwolf, about them, about their whole story, about them.

Yeah, I said them twice. Note that if you haven't done 1.6 yet and don't want to be spoiled (you shouldn't, you should experience the awesomeness for yourself), then please do not read further than the spoiler line. Just know, if you have done the whole 1.6, that this is essentially 'in this essay, I will-' with a bit of fic format but in snippets because I'm relying on pure memory and I just cannot go back to their cutscenes (I might have lied) just to care about lore accuracy because we are all biased rose tinted fans and all my speculations will reflect that, so be it.

So yeah you would see one way for me to write a nice little snippet but then I will stop 'coz I have no idea how to continue it and move on to another. Makes it so that I don't write a whole-ass fic. Also, there would be bracketed words, for hear me outs.

Also I have liberty in this fic, so let me cook~

"I will stop you, I always will." [Literally what Lycaon told Hugo, and I swear that and Hugo's response were my gay roman empire. Because this sentence might not mean only their present, but their past and also the very future. It could be the central theme to what Lycaon's relationship with Hugo is, and in this essay, I will-]

Lycaon would always admire and respect Jack, but life hadn't truly started for him until Hugo came into his life. Maybe because Hugo was of similar age, a person Lycaon could befriend simply out of kinship, out of circumstances, out of the fact that they were two lonely boys under one mentor figure going about their ways. Maybe because nothing really started until Hugo came along, rescued by them both, seen once more the unfairness of the world and Hugo wanted to do something about it.

It wasn't that Lycaon didn't want to do something either, that he helped Jack out for the lost and the sick, in rescues and so forth but it wasn't until Hugo that they started having missions, started to veer away from the truly just into the grayer lesser evil to pluck away the greater evil. Of phantom thievery that the old civilization once fantasized and looked up to, for the tenants of robbing the rich and giving to the poor, of striking fear into the heart with a calling card, engage in battle within acts of deception and trickery and then giving out, in their own way making the world a better place. Rooting off the true evil that plagued this world.

Doing all that, bounded by principles as they never take away lives and live by their creed. In this way alone, he was glad that Hugo came into his life and kickstarted something Lycaon could never dream of, with a steadfast partner as thick as thieves. Back then, he thought it would always be like this.

But then again, there had always been signs that things would end, one ignored sign at a time.

Lycaon would absorb Jack's teachings like a sponge, even when irritably, Hugo would pick it up faster, do it better and dare mock him about it such as terrible acting and all the 'mistakes' he made. There were no regrets stopping his high horse and kicking down the chairs he dramatically likes to step up on in an imaginary spotlight of his own making.

And yet, even when Hugo picked things up faster, Hugo would not absorb everything. Unlike Lycaon who takes Jack by his word, Hugo would question what Lycaon understood as opposition to evil. To question about never taking away lives no matter the circumstances. Even during their missions, there were bold, reckless and questionable things that Hugo would do, that Lycaon would stop short and for all Hugo would call his flawless performance, that Lycaon could only concede because somehow, some way, everything Hugo had done would fall perfectly in place, they were something of consequence that Lycaon would hope his closest friend wouldn't fall into, something dark and dangerous.

In the far future, a statement from that once closest friend, that Lycaon never fully trusted Hugo even before they had their fallout. Was it really? Even so, when? When those two had been the only ones they had each other for, even with Jack and especially after Jack?

Had Lycaon's trust shattered a little just because Jack pulled him aside and warned about Hugo's darkness, that Lycaon being the closest could restrain him, leash him... even choke him away from the darkness?

Had Hugo noticed the potentially shattered trust after Jack's death, when they created the name Mockingbird and created an oath right there and then out of Lycaon's insistence, out of insistence that the oath should never be broken?

But was it because Hugo had an inkling whether Lycaon would never fully trust Hugo like Hugo wouldn't himself potentially that the day it all ended, that Mockingbird fell out, in Lycaon's supposedly own terms, when trust is broken and things were too much.

There were times, of that fateful day, when signs were ignored blinded by the trust thick as thieves they still believed to have, that Lycaon wondered about the precautions he could make, the fact he could have looked out for Hugo, anything. But that day, that he did want to make precautions, did want to at least check on Hugo, that Hugo had always picked things up a little faster than Lycaon, that he went off on his own, that Lycaon was played to prevent stopping Hugo, to have reconsiderations, and when Lycaon, in his heart, wondered whether he was simply expecting the worst...

It didn't stop his surprise at the bloody scene, and both their shattered hearts. And the words spoken out in despair and betrayal. Of broken oaths and turning tail.

It would be hard to say, one suppose but when the two finally reunited in their separated paths finally converging to one once more, he would be reminded all that, reminsced all that and maybe wonder a little.

"I will stop you, I always will."

Lycaon made that firm statement, in reminder and in slight regret. Always almost felt like a lie, but if only because he would always be met with some equally stubborn, of unstoppable force meets immovable object. They both never hesitated, they both stayed steadfast to their principles and could not be moved by arguments, beyond reason which they could very well insult each other over.

But when Hugo was once more pushed back by Lycaon, even with the exasperated Proxy watching them fight for simply very little reason even at first sight, why his statement will stubbornly remained true. Lycaon made mistakes, his failures left with a broken dynamic he wouldn't even dream to have back, even if he might wish it only because things had been too broken to ever have it back. Hugo had always been faster and smarter than Lycaon but even now Lycaon can overpower him, that where speeds and wits were Hugo's, strength would be Lycaon's.

It was what he would always take advantage over Hugo. It was why he will always stop him.

But then Hugo jumped over the ledge, his classic phantom thief move of a getaway and even if he was tasked to pursue Hugo, it would take a long time to get back at his elusive enemy.

So, never in a million years would he have ever thought that Hugo would call for Lycaon's help in an operation with a seemingly common goal. It was unexpected, and he decided he simply wanted to go for Hugo to answers. Of course he will deny the stalking and found it nice that they could actually have an amicable conversation without drawn weapons, which Lycaon would like to point out that Hugo started first with thrown suitcases. Fighting back would always be the appropriate response when he was like that, letting him have the first move otherwise only a shortcut to his own victory.

In that time, until the very end, the whole operation would strike Lycaon odd.

Why would Hugo want to invite the traitor back, even as Hugo had his reasonable explanation about conceeding Lycaon's presence in exchange for the Proxy's cooperation? If that was truly what happened, that the Proxy had insisted and Hugo reluctantly conceeded, Lycaon could understand.

He did not understand, that Hugo made the first move, suggesting Lycaon of his own volition as he heard from the Proxy's side of the story and that even 'Lycaon's presence alone could keep him in check.'

Something right of course, as great partners now foes but also something that Lycaon wouldn't expect the prideful Hugo to admit, to make the first move to bring Lycaon into the occassion with the minute possibility that Lycaon's presence might not even be needed by the Proxy.

They were cooperating again, even as bitter ex-partners under shared goal, although he felt like he knew Hugo well enough that there was more than meets the eye. It was why he tried to notice, throughout the operation where he hoped this time that he would picked it up faster. That whatever Hugo was scheming, no oaths would be broken.

And yet, it was only until the very end that he noticed anything amiss. When he left Hugo with the Proxy, knowing that the Proxy was a person of interest to Hugo and with Vivian coming along, that Hugo would plant something to the Proxy.

The only reason that he would allow this was a naive hope, where he had stated:

"Any path that causes you pain is the wrong one."

Wishing then for a painless one, for oaths to no longer be broken. For all the accusations that Hugo had thrown at him, Lycaon could simply throw back but instead of the viritol hatred and lashing sadness it may be, it came from the 'disgusting sympathies' Hugo so despises.

And yet, Hugo was, is, a friend even when he has become a sworn enemy for how dangerous, formidable and unpredictable he truly is. The Proxy had always been the kind of person with fellow allies that manages to bring the best out of each and every one of them. The person with a relationship to family different from what Hugo would ever tell him, and something that Hugo could benefit from... even a little.

Leaving Hugo alone with the Proxy for that reason alone, naive hope indeed but hope he also wanted to confirm with his very own ears so forgive him if his 'you-know-what' skills had been put into use just for precaution's sake. It would be loathed to make the same mistake twice after all.

And even if Hugo did catch on to that, something he certainly will as they were cut from the same cloth, taught from the same mentor, Hugo let Lycaon hear, even when the Proxy would never know. And such statement... such dramatic plot right in a climax with red flags towards the next event...

He was then angered but not unsurprised by Hugo's 'betrayal'. The only reason Lycaon could now most certainly finger quote that was because Hugo revealed his Mockingbird status to Hartman Ravenlock, of all people.

That much would be obvious when Hugo did his dramatic movie spiel and revealed about being Mockingbird, in front of Hartman casually even when there was a reason they remained elusive to this day. But there was no way Hugo would reveal himself as Mockingbird that easily, to someome that can easily undo everything he worked for, with all the elusiveness he maintained over the years.

There was no way Hugo Vlad Ravenlock would reveal any type of weakness to the family he so despised.

It was almost amazing how he put everything out in the open, loudly and boldly and insanely. To statements that Lycaon dare not believe, to the battle that had played out.

A battle that was less blowing off steam, more... about a downward spiral, ideologies clashed once more and insanity rearing its head. An act of madness so perfect to send chills down Lycaon's spine.

An act, perfect as the mistakeless Hugo, could make of it.

Anyone else would never notice, but Lycaon wasn't Hugo's best partner for the heck of it. And all the skills and experiences he underwent throughout various missions with Hugo wouldn't go for naught.

Their missions, in the name of Mockingbird, had always been acts. As far as Lycaon knows, Hugo favoured the dramatic, the foreshadowing points easily missed by their targets only for the slow and steady reveal to crumble upon their enemies and make them realize their folly, only until its too late.

And yet foreshadowings, if looked well and hard enough, would also be enough to signal said partner into what happens next, the roles that Lycaon was told he made mistakes in and thus needed help with so Hugo would help him, for their mutual benefit...

And after so long, even when they were reluctantly meeting back together, cooperating bitterly, Lycaon would never miss out a mission's flow, even to the very end.

He would not miss what he could easily read in Hugo's battle style, their bickering conversations and the traps laid out. Even when Lycaon could never be sure about what he could trust of Hugo, he knows his past well enough, with their very audience of high-class people, in intrigue and deception, what Hugo wanted him to presently do.

A little last vengeance, stubborness to crack Lycaon's steady principles but really because...

It doesn't matter whether they run away or forget, their past cannot be erased. And for all that Lycaon felt bitter, regretful and remorseful, he could never hate Hugo, a friend he just wanted to stop throwing himself into the darkness. So he kept reading the cues, if not trusting Hugo then at least trusting Hugo's own steadfast principles even if they were so different from Lycaon's.

"My blade is steady. I would never point my weapon at an ally, especially you."

Something Hugo had told the Proxy, who was now pointing a blade at the very neck.

"I would never betray my companions."

Even when that was what Hugo was exactly doing, goading for a reaction specifically Lycaon's. Purposefully. For all audience to see, friends... and foes alike.

'To fool the enemies, first fool the friends.'

And yet, even so, Lycaon could only see red because as much as he knew Hugo, how much could he trust Hugo? When he left Hugo, for that very reason, when-

"He's inherited the seed of evil. Do not let it take root. When the time comes, promise me that you will chain him, restrain him and..."

Lycaon would never hesitate, when Hugo wouldn't either. Something that Hugo would very well know, in the feral instincts that somehow cannot be suppressed in Hugo's presence, he had reached for Hugo's neck, pushing the Proxy out of the way safely, and-

"... choke him."

How could Hugo laugh and smile at a time like this, dangling above the roof? Goading Lycaon, as he noticed the subtle sweep in the eyes and communicating once more eye-to-eye that only the best of partners once could and be unheard of by others.

"The only one to save me or kill me... has always been myself."

But what really sealed the deal was the Mockingbird sigil over Hugo's chest, shining brightly as they both looked down on it for a mere second unnoticed by anyone.

"How about... 'Mockingbird'? It's a bird known for mimicking calls to blend in. The same way we don high society roles for ourselves when we are out on a mission.'

The same way they are donning this frankly close-to-home bitter ex-partners as definite enemies where the next part to choking someone and dangling them off the roof would require no brainer to anyone spectating this scene in an outside perspective.

An outside perspective that wouldn't know Hugo and Lycaon well enough to know whatever happens next would most certainly be a ruse.

It was why Lycaon took the bait, let the audience see what they wanted and carried out the act.

Dramatically coughing blood with a smile as he threw Hugo off the roof in a suspiciously well-timed fissure of a Hollow just being right underneath them, where no one would bother the goose chase of finding a 'corpse' that could turn into an Ethereal by the time they finished such a maze. It was why Hollows made good body dumping parts.

Why it was a good place to fake death. Hugo always did like Hollows for go-to methods in escapes and acts. Favoring the reckless, the bold and the gambit.

There was a reason why Mockingbird remains elusive to this day. How many fake death scenes did people think that this particular duo went through if their disguises were dangerously close to revealing the truth? Fans would be surprised.

"It's impossible for Hugo to be alive. My hand went through his heart."

The lies slipped in for the sake of any audience listening in, never letting guard down for a second and solidifying an act, as grand as any. And yet, anyone who knew Hugo and Lycaon well enough. Who knew Mockingbird the phantom thieves well enough...

It was a piece of fiction, back in the old civilization and every media of them had something that earned the admiration of both Hugo and Lycaon back then, something they aspire to be in every sense of the word.

People who have overcome the impossible. So impossible can only mean something different in the context of Hugo.

So it was that very reason that Lycaon had no trouble playing along, because his principles will always remain unbroken. Because no life had yet been taken. Because there will always be lies but at the same time, certain things that cannot be lied about. Such as Hugo and Lycaon's very own skills, the little tricks such as a simple tracking device over the Sacrifice Core belatedly realized to be weaseled away by Hartman when everyone was enraptured by their scene.

Hugo's own goading had really only been a dare, to play along, that somethings will never change when Hugo had always picked things up faster and thus for Lycaon only to follow. For the very next scene of the act, their to be continued.

Unlike the last time though, he would not run away. He would see this to the very end, and this time, no oath would be broken.

Because Lycaon will stop him. He always will.

Whether it was the root of evil, breaking oaths or becoming the abyss. Because there is always a narrow light Hugo could still go back to.

This time, he would prepare, this time he would take those precautions. This time, he would win. For the both of them.

"I will defeat you, I always will." [Honestly best response ever to Lycaon's. Infinity out of ten. My gay empire is amazing, I live and die for crownwolf now. 1.0 did not disappoint the prelude for this hot long blonde hair heterochromic vampire phantom thief that 1.6 gave us an absolue buffet for, as we starve for even more in 1.7. He has and always will push my buttons right. Also, if I will be very honest with you, from the looks of things... we know which statement rings most true. Shoutout for me being down bad for our vampire though. Rose tinted glasses, let's go!]

Hugo didn't know that he would ever have another 'true love', what his disgusting father had called Serena as after she died and Hugo took credit for her kill much to his father's shallow praise.

But a certain wolf Thieren brutish oaf at least got 'lifelong partner' out of Hugo, since he refused to use any phrase his father ever used upon him. Or ever used that particular word father on Jack, a mentor with more warmth than his disgusting father could ever give.

When he ran away from home, he didn't expect to be rescued by the both. He didn't expect the care and despite his initial distrust, he could never expect them to worm their way into his heart.

Hugo would remain steadfast in his principles, finding their self-righteousness when it comes to not taking lives under any circumstances a little grating. And yet people always came with different views, but despite that, they were people he could actually get along with. For the first time since Serena.

And Lycaon. They shared the same goals, they shared the same ideals. They had both been disgusted by the rich, they had both wished more for the poor. They wanted fairness. They wanted justice.

And they found that ideal in phantom thieves who struck fear to their targets in fair challenge with a calling card and descended towards the rich targets robbing off their treasures to give to the poor who deserve it more, an ideal that Jack supported them whole-heartedly, helped them train for missions and in working together, despite the mistakes Lycaon makes that Hugo loved to berate since it took so long to help Lycaon get use to the upper class, something that Hugo was born to like a curse.

Somehow, with time, it became a little easier to open his heart up to them especially Lycaon. In doing missions, where they did have to trust each other to have each other's backs, it was almost impossible for any distance between them.

It didn't matter with Hugo's banter and simple insults about the mistakes Lycaon makes, which he could easily take to do better or give a gruff shut it or even simply overpower him with that brutish strength of his.

It didn't matter if Hugo chose to be closed off, if his past has grayed out his eyes to the world when Lycaon's red eyes to match the singular red eye Hugo had seemed to bring forth a simple light, a stubborn and determined for the sake of their ideals and his own naive principles that keep his friends close, that bounded them to being thick as thieves literally and which Hugo, for once, let himself into.

The clumsiness and straightforwardness seemed to overpower all of Hugo's defenses and in the shared name of Mockingbird, Hugo thought for once in this kind of life where they were rising to the top in the near future away from his dark past, he could finally look forward to something.

And yet, Hugo was someone unchanged in the end. He could have one happy dream but then go back to reality. Trust thick as thieves could mean little when thieves also have the penchant of guards high just in case of backstabbing. Hugo was in touch with himself enough, especially to the incessant grating of Jack and Lycaon's idealistic principles, that this singular difference to Hugo's pessimistic upbringing was enough to cut a line between the trust.

It was enough to be aware about how Lycaon could do anything for Hugo, except for bold gambits with potential darker consequences that ran afoul to idealistic notions. It was enough for Hugo's paranoia to be aware about Jack and Lycaon having a private conversation even when he was not privy with his contents and the ever straightforward Lycaon didn't reveal anything, enough to raise his suspicion. The last nail in the coffin would be Lycaon's insistence on an oath, to never kill under any circumstances sworn immediately at their mentor's grave like a binding contract because Lycaon couldn't trust anything otherwise.

But that might have been fine, Hugo had thought. That might be better off, even with his haunting past and enemies still alive. Maybe he could indulge in such naivete and believe, simply enough, that there could be a way to carry justice without taking away lives.

Then the day came that naive justice easily shatters under reality's crushing weight. And Hugo truly remained unchanged.

Undoubtedly, Lycaon would try to stop him. But he will always defeat him. Just like when they learned under their mentor's tutelage. Just like their missions, when Hugo remains flawless and had to come save Lycaon from his mistakes from time to time. He would always be a little smarter and quicker to gain the victory, even when Lycaon's strength could counter him if he was on his high horse. As his bum would never forget the chairs sliding away underneath him and rearing his back to the unforgiving floor.

Not this time. And that was when it all truly shattered.

Lycaon had seen as much of reality as Hugo had.

Then, why was he surprised by the bloody scene? Why did he look almost scared and disgusted by Hugo's resolve, at the very realization they should have opened their eyes to long ago? Why did the past mean little that Lycaon suddenly declared his distrust? Why would Lycaon, of all people, want to leave him?

Too many people, three people too many, three people who cared about him, were leaving him. In this hateful world, of the very few that he let into his heart, they leave him to this broken world, alone as many of his enemies tried their hardest for him to be to break him, but to what Hugo almost thought best when people could only break him. But then Hugo had to find true love, partners and mentors.

And now look where it had gotten him.

Yet, obviously, Lycaon's would hurt the most.

Serena died by murder, never meaning to leave him when their family's maliciousness done her in the first place and robbed away from Hugo, loneliness among only hatred was tasted and left shattered. And yet he would never blame Serena, when it was those bastards that did this to them.

Jack died peacefully in his sleep, a parting Hugo understood when he knew initimately that death would take them all and happy that peace was all Jack met especially when his first loved one left through bloody murder. Sad as he might have felt for such parting, he felt the only thing he could do was live on his mentor's legacy and for Hugo, that was enough. In gratitude for what was taught and for being a figure he can actually respect in his heart.

Lycaon... was not dead but at that moment, he was certainly dead to Hugo and almost better off actually dead when he would leave Hugo, to join the Mayflower. The most hypocritical move when they had been battling such high-class members and yet Lycaon would be joining them? To leave Hugo for the likes of them?

Did... did Lycaon's idealistic principles that had no place in this world they live in, an oath made insistently supposedly for the sake of their phantom thievery by the support of their mentor that realistically cannot be upheld when the direst situation of worst-case scenario me or them certainly could leave one dead in self-defense... How could any of that matter more to Lycaon than the partnership they have built and bonded over the years?

Thus, he would never have a 'lifelong partner' again, because no matter who he found, it seemed no one would truly understand him, nor stick by him.

"Not even Vivian can agree with all my beliefs. One day, we will go our separate ways."

Their missions had always been a two-person job and although Hugo believed he could pull off many stunts on his lonesome, even when being alone might be the best of all, recklessness was best left suited to a brute than he.

Everything that happened was enough for Hugo to reassess, to finally strike when the time is right and he can exercise patience, for what truly mattered.

It was then that the gears of hateful fate spun for him, to the moment where he found Vivian, where he learned of the Exaltists, a Proxy named Phaethon and their close ties to a certain housekeeping service.

It was also at similar time that the Ravenlock family was making their move.

Whether it was the right time to make a move or not, patience and caution could only go so far. And in his phantom thief life, gambits had been part and parcel of his mission.

"Luck is always unpredictable, and that's what makes it fascinating. Whenever I get the chance, I can't help but want to test it."

Was his luck really good or bad, that he ended up with his fated reunion with that traitor after a fairly successful heist against Hartman Ravenlock, with the Proxy he hoped for cooperation in tow?

It was such a brutish move to go straight for the kill, irony intended, the moment he gave a nice greeting to Lycaon but that man always knew how to react to Hugo's violence... from the mines he left him, of a foreshadowing not left from his lips, and the first hit from his suitcase. Meeting again... isn't it great that they could blow off some steam and that Hugo could truly let Lycaon know what he felt all these years.

And he was reminded once more, even after all these years that Lycaon remained the same pompos self-righteous character even when they faced the same reality in front of them.

He really did want to make that traitor kneel, hypcrotically calling Hugo beyond reason when Lycaon can't see beyond his own complexes.

"To hell with you and your foolish fantasies of being an almighty savior."

How could it not have been any more foolish, showing mercy to killers as if everyone should be saved to the naive justice he insisted on upholding? When the person that could be saved will now always be out of Lycaon's reach, hypothetically speaking.

Because as steadfast as Hugo would always be about himself, maybe if the both of them truly stick thin and thick with each other, if no one turned their backs on him...

Unfortunately, that is not their present and thus something Hugo didn't care to indulge in. Instead, he simply faced Lycaon as sworn enemies they have truly become. Hugo could only laugh at Lycaon's foolish statement.

"I will defeat you, I always will."

That was Hugo's counter to being stopped, so that Lycaon could save someone else entirely less deserving. To many plans gone awry, or not letting Hugo bask the consequences that deliver the greater good.

After all, Hugo would always be better enough to give Lycaon the slip, to do whatever the hell he wants, as nothing will get out of the way of taking fate into his hands. He realized now, even when Lycaon had improved as much as Hugo for him to jump over the ledge for his escape, that there was truly no better time than now...

To finally put the past to rest.

Stealing the Robe of Heroes, Vivian and Phaethon meeting, reuniting with his ex-partner that he didn't care about at all.

Meeting Hartman, his dear uncle, revealing how he was Mockingbird and knew there was no turning back.

Solidifying the act.

"But you know how it is, in this world, someone has to be 'the bad guy'."

It was certainly shaping up to it, into the climax when they held out the operation to find the Sacrifice Core, glad for the Proxy's cooperation and frankly pissed at Lycaon's stalking him.

That oaf has never learned the point of subtlety, even lying to his face that he has no reason to avoid Hugo at all. Excuse me, who left Mockingbird and turn his back on Hugo?

Really, Lycaon had been easy to read as ever, from never letting his guard down when they were forced to cooperate together, thanks a lot to the rest of them especially the Proxy and Vivian for throwing him to the sharks, or the wolf's fangs. It left him an illuminating and sickening discussion and how unchanging Lycaon really is, something to like and loathe him of.

It was also enough for Hugo to be aware that his private conversation with the Proxy might not be private at all. Fair enough, that's what Hugo would done himself. It meant Lycaon's skills hadn't rusted away being a lapdog.

The audience would certainly be glad of a role taking its more active position. It just made the climax raw and out of his hands, lies and truths spinning around all at once as his vengeance and his ideals were once more his to take, and to never let go.

"I have never once thought Mockingbird as a failure."

So then why, why did you leave? Why...couldn't things have turned out differently, coward?

Hugo would not mourn for a present that will never come to pass. He cared not for the broken relationship left behind when choices have been made. It simply made it more enraging. The hypocrisy felt sickening.

But in its own way, in this very reunion when Lycaon finally had the guts to choke and dangle him off the rooftop, it was only the wolf in front of him who could carry out their final decision together. A reunion mission unknown but only for the two of them.

Hugo had so much more to do, his subtle hints never being lost to the keen instincts Lycaon always held, why he always try stopping him although Hugo would always have the upper hand in the end.

Because Lycaon thought Mockingbird was not a failure, he still remembered and maybe even cherished the skills and experiences he gained during those days, what will help the flow of this story act. What no one else could do and what he wouldn't wish upon anyone else.

Never Vivian who shall never dirty her hands.

Never the Proxy, truly respected by Hugo but with too fresh a relationship to ever understand what must be done.

Not the Cunning Hare standing at ready, simply the Proxy's friend witnessing everything alongside them.

Yes, only Lycaon could do this.

Because he truly wanted to see whether he can go through this mission and the expression on his face. In all these years, as unchanging as Hugo thought Lycaon was in the ways that mattered, he wanted Lycaon's idealistic thinking to break, he wanted Lycaon to see the reality, he wanted Lycaon to...

Finally face him as they go through all this, together.

As much as they were sworn enemies, bitter ex-partners with so much betrayal harboring in Hugo's heart, there were three... now four or maybe even five and six people that he would ever care for in this forsaken world.

Two left him through death.

The other two or even three were simply fresh out, completely pure in Hugo's eyes to ever face the darkness he harbors around him, as he would leave them instead.

And now that only left Lycaon, who had left him. Who had reunited. Who Hugo now paid back by leaving him even when it seemed Lycaon had the upper hand here. Or so it seemed.

And Lycaon didn't disappoint, as he smiled coughing out having stains on his favorite scarf as he was mercilessly thrown out to the Hollow. A fitting ending, a fitting victory. And the smile on his face proves it all, much to Lycaon's annoyance for sure. He made sure to savour the expression from that traitor's face, keeping up the smile as the 'last' thing Lycaon sees even when what he saw of Lycaon's face threatened to fade it away.

... Even now, Lycaon was easy to read, that almight savior complex of his that makes its unwanted appearance for people who less than deserve it. And before the fissure swallowed him whole, he saw the smoothening expression on Lycaon's face and knew this mission really went out with a bang, entrusted well enough for the future would he be loathe to admit.

Despite what Lycaon would undoubtedly try to do, although he could try.

But that would no longer be any of his buisness...

"A good movie never spoils its ending but feel free to speculate."

Or would it?

"I wished that you would really take better care of yourself. Luckily your fall isn't too bad. Was this really necessary?"

"Oh, Robin. You should know better of the modus operandi we phantom thieves uphold. What else but the impossible could satisfy our missions?"

Still, Hugo didn't fuss when the Bangboo, a partner more reliable than any person and someone who stuck long enough and went through the abyss with him to entrust to anyone else, helped him clean up whatever wounds he had from the fall and made sure the Hollow wouldn't take a toll on him.

Even if the day's events made him unfit for Hollow exploration, Robin's combat bangboo prowess was not to be underestimated.

"I will come back, like an avalanche."

The first phase had already been accomplished. His lofty goals are far from over. And he will truly win from this entire ordeal. He would make sure of it.

AND END! I feel like there's so much that could be written about Hugo but it wasn't enough for my tiny brain capacity T_T. I really love them especially Hugo with all my heart. Please, why do they have to be so doomed? I'm just letting off my final steam so I can have the patience to get back to real life. And I'm so glad to write this little fic if only because I have been having trouble writing these days and just... seriously. This was so much fun. Honestly I feel my interpretations don't do crownwolf's gay violence ex-(partnership) justice but we have so little of them that anything is fine and I need more of my buffet. Please, someone make more crownwolf fics. I will also post this on AO3 later~ For now, enjoy.

[pagannatural]

2.01

In My Time of Dying

-Dean looks like he’s witnessing a miracle when he first sees at Sam at the hospital.

-Sam can hear and/or sense Dean at least three times while Dean’s unconscious. He’s the only one. He can’t do this with anyone else at any point. Further evidence their connection is metaphysical.

-Dean references Ghost, a movie about a woman and the ghost of her lover. 👀

-Sam is appalled that John can think of anything but Dean when Dean might die, but Sam was ready to blow right past the possibility of saving John in order to get revenge last episode. One thing about Sam is that he really loves Dean more than anyone else and he won’t say it, but it comes out at times like these. I think Sam would feel pathetic if he actually said it.

-Sam is unwilling to entertain the idea of Dean dying. He sees the car and says that when he gets better he’s gonna want to fix it, and Sam knows his brother because he’s absolutely right.

He won’t let Bobby scrap Dean’s car, which is a metaphor for Dean’s life. Sam is ready to accept whatever condition Dean wakes up in. It’s also cute that Sam sees the impala as Dean’s, not John’s. It makes me wonder how many drives Dean took Sam on when they were younger, if Dean often snuck him away for little hang-outs like the fireworks. If they started lying on the hood looking at the stars when they were teenagers.

-That moment Sam says “felt like Dean” is this moment in the hallway outside of Dean’s hospital room

so what Sam is feeling as Dean is this reassuring, caretaking, determined presence promising not to leave him and promising to fight.

-The spirit board scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. What is it about this scene? There’s this sweet innocence to it, and the fact that they’re reaching across a veil to communicate because they just can’t let go of each other. It makes their relationship look really intimate and separate from everyone else. Sam saying “don’t make fun of me,” Dean grumbling that he feels like he’s at a slumber party, Dean sitting across from Sam and watching him. That moment when Dean touches the planchette, Sam is so happy to actually feel him, and Dean is in awe that he can. They need this contact.

Sam goes “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean” and then the planchette moves and he says “Dean, what?” and then “Dean is it after you?” Sam really likes saying Dean’s name. He says it all the time. People like saying their crush’s names.

-Sam sits on Dean’s bed, his knee against Dean’s leg, and looks at Dean’s face. Ghost-Dean stands next to Sam, looking at Sam’s face. There’s something really intimate about them gazing at each other like this, with Sam not knowing Dean is looking at him too. They wouldn’t be talking so intimately if Dean were lying there looking back at Sam. Kind of like when you’re talking to someone before bed with the lights out and it feels easier to say what you mean.

-“We were just starting to be brothers again.” If this is them just getting started at being brothers again I would kill to see what they were like at their worst closest.

There’s so much in the word “brother” for them. It comes up over and over. I don’t think they ever do this with any other relationship word- neither ever tries to explain their love for John by saying “he’s my dad” with tears in their eyes. It’s like a sacred title. There’s no way they can express what they are to each other, so they use this word that’s only ever applied to each other and that carries their whole history.

The point their relationship has reached now is that Sam trusts Dean completely, Dean needs Sam, and they’re each others’ top priorities. Were they like that right up until Stanford or did something happen before then?

John wrote in his journal about them not getting along as well as they used to when Sam gets into his teens, and speculates that it’s from living in Dean’s shadow. But John was also aware that his boys had their own world that he didn’t have access to, and even very attentive parents often miss quite a bit of what’s going on with their teenage kids.

What we see in teen-era flashbacks is a Sam who resents Dean for being “cool,” a Dean being protective of Sam but also respectful. We see a girl who’s dating Dean only because she thinks maybe he’s not as much of a tool as he seems based on how sweet he is to his little brother. We have Dean and Sam burning down a field when they sneak away to light fireworks, Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in delight. And we have Sam only wanting to talk to Dean about a case over the phone-not John- and asking for Dean’s advice. They were still close. We know Sam ran away from home once and Dean was out of his mind worried before finding him.

And based on “Providence” Sam and Dean both know Sam feels some type of way about Dean, which would’ve happened pre-Stanford.

And then Sam didn’t tell Dean about Stanford and they didn’t talk for years and Dean thinks Sam must hate him and Dean hates himself but Sam looks at him like a puppy in love. And now “we were just starting to be brothers again.” I wonder what happened for them to both know why Sam isn’t interested in dating when he’s with Dean, and if it had to do with this.

-Sam asks “can you hear me” to an empty room- Ghost Dean isn’t there. It shows how alone Sam feels without Dean.

-Dean objects to dying because he thinks Sam will die without him. This would be an insane thing to think in any other circumstances but I can see why he would think that (see: the babysitting years, the fire at Stanford, etc).

-Sam loves Dean so ferociously. He fights hard for him. He’s protective of Dean to John the whole episode, and it makes me think he’s always been mad at John not just for himself but for Dean too.

-John tells Dean he will have to either save Sam or kill him. Dean’s contract with John previously was always to save and care for Sam. Now saving him has a different and more religious meaning.

-So John thanks Dean for taking care of both him and Sammy, tells him he may have to kill Sam, and then dies. Iconic.

[jenosbliss]

Hihi!!

How are you doing today?

I wanted to request for the 100 followers celebration if that's still open?

So if it's possible, can you do a FWB chenle with 11,13 and 15

Angst with a possible happy ending?

Thank you sm!!

Hope you have an amazing day! 🫶🏻

pairing. fem!reader x fwb!chenle | genre. suggestive, angst | wc. 1.2k | warnings. mdni, reader is toxic and manipulative

Chenle wasn't a liar. He believed in white lies and the omission of words rather than outright lying. He despised liars and couldn't stand pathological liars or manipulators, but call it fate or irony that the biggest manipulator and liar he ever met was you, his everything.

He lied when Jeno asked if something was wrong. He betrayed himself when he replied, "No, I'm good." The way he gripped that red plastic cup so tight that his knuckles turned white, his lips quivering with anger, face slightly red not due to the alcohol but because of the rage he felt, eyes darkened staring at you, jaw tightened gave him out.

Jeno knew he wasn't good but didn't press on the topic further as he figured out the reason for his discomfort... you. It was the way you were being a little too cozy with Sungchan in the corner of the room, Sungchan's lips leaving kisses along your neck, and how you smiled and laughed at his worst pick-up lines, relishing in his touch.

The whole universe knew about Chenle's crush on you. Anyone would, with the way he looked at you longingly, and not to mention the times he had already confessed his feelings for you, only to be rejected twice. But did that stop him from loving you? No.

Sungchan was just a phase, just like Jisung or Eunseok. You were with a different man every month, but the only constant man was Chenle, by your side as long as you could remember. This made him never give up his feelings for you, hoping that maybe one day you could see him the way he sees you.

Your relationships with all these guys didn't last long, not because of Chenle's presence hindering your love life but because you got bored of them. Sticking to one person wasn't enough; you needed a new partner once the honeymoon phase was over.

But the only person you never got bored of was Chenle. You would seek comfort and solace in him after every breakup or sometimes to satisfy your burning desires when your current boyfriend couldn't. And sometimes it was him who would reach out, when his jealousy got the best of him, like today.

"Lele, what are you doing?" you whispered, trying to get out of his arms around your waist. "What do you think?" he murmured, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your neck, just over where Sungchan's lips had been, as if erasing his scent and replacing it with his own.

He had pulled you into this secluded hallway when you excused yourself to use the restroom. The moment he saw you getting out of Sungchan's arms, he took the opportunity to get you in his, reminding you whose touch was capable of making you feel ecstatic.

"Anyone can walk in on us here," you protested. His grip on your waist tightened as he slowly moved your hair aside and kissed the back of your neck, mumbling, "So? It'll get exciting." You felt his smirk against your skin. "We could get caught!" The sternness in your voice made him pull you flush against his chest as he whispered above your ear, "Then they'll know who's better."

Everyone knew about Chenle's feelings for you, but no one was aware of this friends-with-benefits relationship. People spoke of it with skepticism, while sitting on the cafeteria table, along the lines of "Rumor has it Chenle and Y/N are fooling around. Isn't she dating Sungchan? Nah, she's with Eunseok. Dude she's with a new man every week."

"What if Sungchan sees us?" he sucked in a sharp breath before muttering, "I don't care. He doesn't matter." You sighed, knowing this conversation wasn't ending the way you wanted. "He's my boyfriend, Lele. He might break up with me." His left arm remained around your waist while his right hand moved along your sides, sliding up slowly under your dress.

"None of that matters now." He nibbled on your ear, letting out a chuckle. "Not everything is a joke, Chenle." Having enough of your fake protests, he pushed you inside the room down the hallway, pinning you against the wall."Don't act like you're not turned on by my touch or don't get off secretly to my thoughts of how good I fuck you."

His fingers gently pressed into your cheeks as he grabbed your chin to meet your gaze. Without hesitation, he leaned in to kiss you deeply and passionately.

He pressed his body against yours, his hands running over your curves as he bit your bottom lip slightly, seeking entrance. You let out a small gasp when you felt his fingers sliding up your dress and tugging at the waistband of your underwear. He deepened the kiss the moment you gasped, his tongue exploring the softness of your mouth, his desire for you growing with each passing second.

"If Sungchan catches us, it'll be over between us," you managed to speak when he broke the kiss only to trail his lips along your jawline to your neck, sucking and nibbling there. "I'm here for you. Come to me like you always do," he mumbled against your skin, slowly removing the strap of your dress, exposing your shoulder. "You promised me, Chenle, what we do will not harm my relationship with others," you moaned when he bit down on your neck, then licked over it as if to soothe the pain. "Don't worry, he won't notice."

It felt like you were losing control over him, as if he decided to take authority over you, and this was something you couldn't let happen. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you made him look at you. "Why are you doing this? Did I do something wrong?" you asked gently, kissing him softly on the corner of his lips.

As if on cue, his demeanor changed and his grip on you loosened a bit. He held your hands, which were on his cheeks, and rested his forehead on yours, saying, "No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's just..." He pulled back to look at you with yearning and passion as he continued, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them."

Your fingers gently weaved through his hair as you pulled him in for a hug. He was quick to hug you back, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, arms encircling your waist. "They can never have what you do, baby. They'll never have me screaming their name while they pleasure me. Only you have seen me that vulnerable. Never compare yourself with them."

A voice in Chenle's mind warned him about your lies, but he was so much in love with you that he ignored everything that told him to resist your manipulations. "I'll text Sungchan that I was feeling unwell, so I left with you, okay? While you take me here on this very bed... all yours, Chenle," you whispered before kissing him again.

By letting him have you there and giving in to his desires, you once again made sure Chenle was nothing but a pawn you could use anytime you wished. You ensured Chenle wouldn't try to assert his dominance over you again and ruin your current relationship with Sungchan, and that his ego wasn't hurt. You made sure Chenle would never leave you and would always be there for you.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

100 follower event 🌷

a/n. I’m really sorry for not giving it a happy ending 😭

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